#he was too excited about his newfound freedom and that's what killed him

[k-s-morgan]

hi katrin i am such a huge fan of your meta analyses on hannibal. i was wondering if you ever had any thoughts of what would happen during s4 and if you ever had plans of writing your own post-fall story. i feel like you would absolutely crush it!!

Hi! Thank you, I'm so glad you found my metas useful!

I'm so satisfied with S3 ending and with the stories of other writers that I never felt an itch to write my own version of S4. Largely because I genuinely think Hannibal and Will have overcome the worst of their obstacles in the show, and now they only have a way up. In my fics, I prefer to tackle the biggest conflicts and drama myself, so I don't have a story interesting enough to tell.

I have a list with the post-canon recs here if you're interested, though they are pretty old at this point.

As for my thoughts on S4, I have two versions, one that I think is logical and one that Bryan might have created.

For the former, I imagine Will and Hannibal learning how to live together, and Will slowly figuring out the extent and specifics of his darkness.

Will consists of unpredictability, and Hannibal is fascinated by it. I think Will is going to kill when an impulse strikes. For example, he might go shopping, without having any dark plans, and end up murdering someone because the circumstances pushed some unfortunate soul onto his path. Will might or might not display the body depending on his mood. Today he can be in an artistic mood, but tomorrow he’ll be in a violent and impatient one, wanting to destroy the body entirely and leaving a total mess behind.

Will might prefer to kill “bad people” in the first two seasons, but it’s the process of murder that excites him. So I see his righteous choices as a preference that helps him justify his dark nature partly, not the core reason for his violence. Hannibal seems to be moved by his interest in human nature and his hunter instinct, but Will, I think, is a truer killer because he actually feels drunk on murder. Unlike Hannibal, he looks downright euphoric when/after he kills Randall and Francis. In TWOTL, Hannibal is more focused on the fact that his dream came true and he and Will killed someone together, but Will seems primarily caught up in the murder after-shocks themselves. Hannibal thinks about Will, Will thinks about how beautiful blood looks under the moonlight.

So, I believe that at first, Will will stick to killing bad people like murderers, but once some times passes, his need for justifications will fade. He’ll move on to rude people, only his rude will differ from Hannibal’s. Hannibal doesn’t differentiate between genders and ages, but I think Will will. He’s interested in a feeling of power, like he himself says, in a sense of dominance, so he’ll look forward to a fight. He won’t be interested in attacking a teenager like Cassie, for instance, because the power imbalance is too prominent. But as soon as someone more equal does something Will heavily dislikes, something that wakes his bloodlust (a personal insult, physical or verbal abuse toward other people/animals, etc.), he’ll attack. He’ll be careful - he knows how to avoid being caught, but it will still be unpredictable and passionate. Will is a storm to Hannibal’s calm.

As for Bryan's version, he said a great variety of things about what S4 could be about over the years, to the point where it's nearly impossible to form one coherent picture. Here is my attempt on it.

Will is going to feel drunk on his newfound darkness and freedom. He was repressed for so long that now that he Became, he’ll be losing his focus and drowning in his own preferences, forgetting what they were and turning into a much more vicious monster any of us expected. He’ll be chasing the high he felt from killing Francis and failing to find it. He’ll be surrounded by blood, his past victims (hence the return of everyone dead, like Bryan mentioned), and more madness. A part of him will want to impress Hannibal, to prove that he’s a worthy partner (which is supported by Will seeking Hannibal’s approval throughout the show - the way he glances at him after biting Cordell is a good example; the way he has low self-esteem and knows Bedelia failed Hannibal’s expectations). So he’ll be acting more and more violently.

Hannibal will see that Will is losing himself in a new way. He won’t want to start a physical relationship with him (which Bryan mentioned) because he’ll be afraid that it isn't for the right reasons, that Will is too far gone to made decisions. So, he’ll feel like the best therapy would be to push Will even more and make him realize that he’s approaching their new life from the wrong angle, to make him figure out that this isn't the kind of killer he wants to be. To do this, Hannibal’s manipulation will entail them going after Alana and Margot.

Will won’t be fond of the idea but Hannibal will manipulate him into accepting it, intending it as a test that will finally make Will snap out of his state. So Will will initially help hunt them down but then he’ll realize this isn’t what he wants to do. Hence finally getting his mind back and being happy in S5.

[breakerrhexis]

A Dream for A Dream: CHAPTER ONE .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. “Past the blood and bruise Past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk? When did our lessons begin to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?” - happiness, taylor swift .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

I stood alone on the boardwalk where the seven of us – the seven heroes of Baldur’s Gate – once watched the ashes of the Elder Brain fall like snowflakes. I remembered how we held our bated breaths, drenched in sweat beneath the glint and steel of our armor. There was a moment when the realization of our newfound freedom finally sunk in, and we screamed in delight. Freed from the threat of the Elder Brain. Freed from the terrors and nightmares of our past and our present.

But within all that happiness, within that joy and relief, I remembered the total heart-wrenching grip of regret whenever I looked into Astarion’s cold eyes.

We defeated a monster, but did I create another one in its place?

Baldur’s Gate bustled with life as I left. All around me, the harbor was decorated with candles and flowers to commemorate the fallen.

Baldur’s Gate was rebuilt in a matter of months from what I heard and where I once used to see crime and refugees scattered about, forgotten and neglected, small stalls and businesses stood, air brimming with dreams and excitement. Baldur’s Gate was reborn anew after the battle, it seemed.

I hadn’t thought I’d visit the city so soon, just shy of a year since the terror ended. After Astarion became another version of Cazador — something he would surely kill me for if I said — I couldn’t bear the weight of my regret and left. Karlach had pleaded for me to stay, to rebuild Baldur’s Gate with the others, but how could I tell her that I’d made a mistake that was eating me alive?

In the heat of the moment, when Astarion looked at me for aid, I couldn’t say no. To think that 7000 souls in exchange for a little bit of power and a little bit of sunlight was worth it appalled me then and now. But I couldn’t find it in me to strip him of his chance to finally feel safe, feel free. And it hadn’t felt like it was a choice for me to make, either. It was his. His and his alone.

But was it?

Of all the things I did, I led Astarion astray and damned 7000 souls in the process. It was my biggest regret. My most bitter heartache.

And I felt the true sting of it all when he peered at me as if I was an ant under his shoe — a life to be dangled on a thin thread, his to do what he pleased with. Because he could if he wanted to. His words in Cazador’s tomb haunted me for months after.

I simply told Karlach to watch out for Astarion; that he was not the man he used to be.

A sad smile fell Karlach’s face. “I know, soldier.”

As much as it pained me to admit, I left Baldur’s Gate like a coward and sought to drown out the growing shame with strangers, drinks, and adventures. In truth, I yearned for a home — and I often found myself reminiscing the months where I was infected with the tadpole because, at least then, I had… a family.

But I let them down. I failed Astarion. I failed me. What good were swords and words if I couldn’t protect the people I loved the most when my decision threatened to the tip the edge of delicately-balanced world?

I hadn’t returned to Baldur’s Gate to ache and reminisce, though. As much as I wanted to reach out to them — Shadowheart, Karlach, Wyll… even Astarion — I had to protect them from the evil at my feet.

I needed to figure out what was hunting me before it was too late.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Diabla’s Diabolist smelled like lavender incense and sulfur. A much more pleasant scent to the fish and piss smell of the lower city, and I welcomed the smell with a smile.

Overhead, a bell dinged and a tiefling with purple highlights behind a counter looked up. Her eyes widened in recognition behind her round glasses then filled with excitement.

“Are you Tav?” She squealed. “The brave leader of the seven?”

“Uh—um—Me, Tav, yes.” My cheeks burned at my lack of grace.

“It is such—” she reached across the counter, aggressively shaking my hand “—a pleasure to meet you. I heard you saved the tieflings from Emerald Grove. Did you know I have a cousin there? And you cleared the shadow-curse? How was that?”

I reeled at the onslaught of questions and rubbed a sheepish hand across my neck. “Not hard, to be honest? I had a lot of help. How’d you know it was me, anyway?”

“There’s a mural of you and the seven! Have you not seen it? And there’s also the songs— do you really kiss a goblin?”

I almost screeched. “No! Gods — did Volo say that?”

She shrugged.

Holding in a shudder, I asked her if she had any information on any yellow-eyed devils.

“Why? Trying to kiss them?”

I could feel myself turning a thousand degrees hotter.

“I’m just pulling your leg!” She laughed. “And to be clear, ‘yellow-eyed devil’ is a rather broad description, don’t you think? I can think of a dozen devils with yellow eyes.”

“I’m not even sure if it’s a… devil, to be honest. It’s kind of like— a huge a shadow, you know?” I stretched my arms wide. “And about this tall. Blends in with shadows. Kind of has this creepy ass smile.”

“Sounds diabolical, indeed.”

I sighed. “I know, I know. It’s not much. I just can’t seem to find any information on this thing for a reason. Please tell me you have something.”

The purple-haired tiefling shook her head and my shoulders deflated. Then, she snapped her fingers. “But I bet my Nana knows something. Hold on.”

She scurried off into a velvet red curtain behind her and after a few moments where all I heard was short, rapid-fire whispers, an older woman rolled out in wheelchair with the girl behind her, a none too amused look on her face.

“This is Nana Diabla! Nana, this is Tav! Oh, and I’m Karisa.”

Nana Diabla stared me down. I waved sheepishly, nervous under her piercing red eyes.

“Not much of a hero, you seem.”

Karisa gasped.

“A hero, I am not, ma’am. Just someone who happened to be at the right place at the wrong time.”

Diabla hummed, eyes softening the slightest bit. “I hear you seek information on a creature with yellow-eyes, made of shadows, and a ‘creepy-ass’ smile?”

“Yes—uh… it’s kind of like lips stretched wide across a face I can’t see. A face made of darkness. Or maybe there’s no face, but just lips.“

“When do you see it?”

“Mostly at night, I think? Either in my dreams or before I head to bed.”

“Do you know why?”

I shook my head.

Nana Diabla pushed herself closer, then beckoned me to lean forward. As I did, she touched my forehead with two fingers, crowned eyes fluttering shut.

I tried to look at Karisa, but Nana Diabla snapped at me to not move.

Nana Diabla’s eyes moved rapidly behind her thin eyelids and her hand began to quiver. Soft, almost silent unfamiliar words fell her from her lips. The air thickened around us.

A sudden sigh that came from neither of us startled Diabla and she pulled her hands away abruptly, as if my skin burned her.

For a moment, she was quiet. Like she was processing something.

“You poor thing,” Nana Diabla murmured at last, gaze faraway and distracted. “Haunted. Wretched. This creature that stalks you savors in your guilt. Festers in your sadness. And it grows ever so hungry for more. And more. And more.”

I swallowed.

Nana Diabla finally looked at me, uncertainty and terror in her eyes. “I do not know what this thing is, but I know it wants you weak and full of fear. It relishes in it.”

Well, this certainly did not help my fear.

Nana Diabla could see it in my face. She ordered Karisa to look for Selune’s amulet to which Karisa’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. But she hurried to retrieve it, returning no less than a few seconds later with a silver amulet shimmering with a soft silver glow.

Nana Diabla draped the silver amulet in my palms and grabbed my hands in an unfamiliar, motherly kind of way.

“This will light the creature in the moons glow if it hunts you again. I can’t tell you if it’ll last. The moon-maiden’s power can be limited, but keep this on you and do not be afraid to seek help in your friends, Tav.” Nana Diabla squeezed my hands.

“How much?” As I reached for my coin bag, Nana Diabla stopped me.

“It’s a gift.” She smiled. “For protecting all of Faerūn. Now go, you know who you must seek.”

Firstly, I sought a pot where I could puke.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

So, I was haunted by more than mere “demons of my past”. This thing savored in my shame and sadness which were emotions I was abundant with lately.

How fucked was I in a scale from 1-10?

What would’ve Shadowheart said? Lae’zel? Halsin? Jaheira? Would Astarion scoff? Would Gale have jumped at the chance to show off a new magic trick?

The thoughts didn’t help me as I laid alone in the Elfsong Tavern, tangled in thin sheets and reeling in a sense of loss. I left all the candles lit in the room and the curtains open so moonlight could fill whatever crevices fire couldn’t, afraid it would strike at me once more.

I needed them, I realized then. I needed them terribly. And I needed Astarion.

How long had it been so I dreamed of my old love? A love I never claimed out of fear…

Did I have a pattern in my life? It seemed I ran and when I ran, demons followed. I could run to the edge of the world and that still would never save me.

I recalled the time Astarion confessed his failed plan to manipulate me. It was a memory I often I thought of. It was one of the last few moments before his ascension where he was true and genuine. Eyes soft and vulnerable.

I remembered his hand in mine as I said that what he needed was a friend, not a lover, and the soft ache that filled me then. I loved him so much. Then. Forever. Now. But I believed — no, I knew — he needed safety and comfort outside out of a romantic situation.

And, truth be told, I wasn’t ready either. Astarion was a delicate man. I didn’t think I could be good for him, even if I tried. I was afraid I’d break him, but I’d bet a thousand times that he’d snap at me for thinking him delicate and for making this choice for him.

Still, when I said friends, Astarion looked grateful. “Friends… I never had those before.” He smiled at me, softly.

Sometimes, I wondered if anything would’ve been different if we had dated. Maybe. Maybe not.

And I ached so much that night I thought, surely, the creature would haunt me, but the city was still and quiet in the Elfsong Tavern and I remained safe.

Yet, I refused to sleep, afraid of the smile that lurked in the depths of my darkest dreams.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Author’s Note:

I am so tired 😴 I’ve been rewriting this since yesterday and is it far from perfect and little bit self indulgent? Yes! Absolutely! But was it fun to write? Yes! And a bit sad. My Tav is a haunted, piece of work. Will there be Astarion romance? Soon ;). Got to build up to. Love a little friends to enemies to friends to lovers saga.

Not edited. Will not be edited soon. Will upload second part tomorrow probably.

[vinegar-on-main]

This one's from September I think. It's the one Alfion fic I've written

The dragonstones had all been returned to their rightful owner. Along the way, Therion had encountered a ghost from his past. With some blood, sweat and lots of tears, that was dealt with. Well, his friends also helped.

Alfyn had been more than happy to be a shoulder to cry on when Darius reared his ugly head. He was surprised such an encounter had affected Therion so much, but he didn't judge him. Therion needed support and he would provide it.

The thief watched intently as the butler removed the fool's bangle from his wrist. He rubbed his wrist as Cordelia began speaking.

"I know our deal is over, but you're welcome to visit whenever you want to," she smiled.

Therion hardly heard a word of what she said over the excitement of his newfound freedom. His arm was so light without that accursed chain. The sore, red indent it created was free to heal.

"I'll think about it," he lied, his attention was still fixed on his wrist.

They exchanged shallow farewells before Therion left. He didn't return to the inn, he had to be alone. The others must not see him cry again.

Boulderfall fortunately had several nooks and crannies to hide in. It took no time to find one on a cliff high above town. Therion could look down at the citizens as they went about their day, unaware of the great relief he currently felt. To them all, it was another boring day. He sat on a rock and looked up at the sky.

Clouds rushed by in the strong wind. How light they must be. The heavy weight on Therion's wrist was gone, now as light as the fluffy clouds looked.

When he shed the fool's bangle, every memory with it no longer meant anything. They shouldn't. That chapter of his life was behind him now, and he could move onto something new.

But he thought of Darius. How that man terrified him. He always thought he could kill him if they met again, but when they did, he could hardly fight. He had to rely on his friends to kill that bastard as he stood frozen in terror.

Alfyn had been the one to drag him out when Darius fell. He rushed Therion to the inn and held him as he cried. He stayed with him for hours, stroking his hair and kissing his cheek till he had worn himself down and could cry no more.

The memories of burdening Alfyn could go too. They were unpleasant. He didn't want to rely on anyone, especially not him. Such a sweet man deserved to love someone just as good as himself.

"Finally found you! We were starting to get worried," that oh so beloved voice said.

Therion looked to his side at the cheerful Alfyn who approached. He sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"It's nice up here," he smiled.

Instinctively, he leaned on his lover. He was exhausted, Alfyn's chest was his favorite pillow.

"So you got the band off?" he asked.

Therion nodded and lifted his hand which Alfyn took. He carefully held it as he examined the mark. Alfyn's hands were a bit softer than his, more gentle and quite a bit bigger. Therion's hands looked tiny in his.

"The mark'll go away soon," Alfyn said.

Gods, he really was the sweetest.

"Are you sure you like being with me?" Therion muttered.

The question worried Alfyn more everytime he was asked. Therion was perfect but couldn't see it himself.

"Why wouldn't I? You stole back three dragonstones! You know how awesome that is!?" Alfyn smiled like a child.

"I guess it is."

...Perhaps not all fool's bangle memories were bad. Lots of them had Alfyn. He would laugh with and kiss and hold Therion with the biggest smile on his face. Those memories were precious.

Awwwwwwww

[the-clones-deserve-the-best]

A Force Dyad: Chapter 5

There are more graphic depictions of male/male sex later in this chapter, so I must include a warning. I also did say that I would add some smut at the end of the last chapter.

Enjoy some of my cringey sex dialog.

______

Yord paced around Qimir's Coruscant flat, thinking how he would break his new relationship to Jecki and Osha. He wanted to come forward to them. Whether they approve of it or not, hiding this won't help either.

Yord took a breath as he waited for a response from Jecki to meet up. He was going to tell her and Osha. When the response came through, Yord took the information and started out.

Not before kissing Qimir while he laid asleep on the couch. He put a blanket over Qimir and gave him another kiss.

"I love you." Qimir smiled.

"I love you too." Yord responded. He pulled a hoodie on as he walked out the door.

Osha brought Mae with her. They all got a booth at a popular diner. Jecki sat next to Yord. She was that happy and relieved to see him. Mae sat awkwardly playing with her utensils. Osha tried to get her to communicate with the same Jedi she tried to kill a few days ago.

Jecki and Yord sensed the tension. So Jecki did what she does best, embarrassed Yord. She got a dastardly smile on her face.

"So tell us about your boyfriend, Yord!" Jecki announced. "I believe his name is Qimir Ren, right?"

"You know?" Yord yelled, covering his mouth.

"Yup. We all assumed that you when weren't coming home or trying to contact us that you were doing the forbidden saber duel." Jecki teased.

"You're okay with this? With Qimir being my boyfriend?" Yord asked.

"We accepted Mae. Besides, with everything going on with Master Sol, this is a nice change." Jecki responded.

"How much do you know?" Yord asked.

"I don't know the full story. I stormed out when Sol confirmed that he was lying about the events." Jecki sighed. "I didn't want to hear anymore. The Sol I knew was dying in front of me. I wasn't ready to face the reality."

"So honestly, it just made hearing the truth about Qimir, and you made this whole thing such a relief!" Jecki revealed. "I mean, he still killed our comrades, but so did Mae. If Osha asked us to give her a chance, then I guess we can try to do the same for Qimir."

Yord felt a flood of relief, knowing he had his friend's approval. He won't have to choose between his boyfriend and friends. The truths that are coming out about Brendok and Qimir's exile made their news good by comparison.

Later in their bedroom, Yord rested on top of Qimir, his head on Qimir's chest. Qimir's chin on Yord's head. His arm wrapped firmly around Yord. A warm blanket covering both of the men. A holo-drama was on for the background noise.

They shared a few passionate kisses and then a few more. Interlacing fingers. Yord returned his head to Qimir's chest.

Yord held up his end of his promise to Qimir and left the order. Tasi Lowa was transferred to Plo Koon. A condition Yord made with the council in exchange to leave peacefully.

He was supposed to leave his lightsaber, but Jecki snuck it back to him when they met earlier.

Right now, Yord just wanted to enjoy his newfound freedom. Plan out their new coven. Where'd they'd settle down and how'd they'd recruit new members. They could definitely start by helping refugees.

They found themselves consistently talking about having kids of their own. The more it was brought up, the more excited Yord got about carrying a child.

They wondered if they should wait a bit longer since they just settled in together. They wanted to make sure their baby would have the stability they needed.

When they discussed it, Qimir would randomly find himself rubbing Yord's belly. Even if they were on top of each other. Somehow, Yord's belly would become accessible for Qimir to put his hand on. They took it as their sign to have a baby. But not now. They had to secure some necessities for themselves. Also, find out how Mothers Koril and Aniseya did it.

While studying the dark side under Darth Plagueis, he watched his master do experiments on the midicholorians to create life. Qimir always paid close attention. They both wanted the same goal but to use it for different reasons.

Darth Plagueis wanted to live forever. Qimir didn't care about that. He wanted to create a new life that he and Yord could raise as their child.

It did not matter if they were biological, adopted, or padawan as long as their children were healthy.

One night, they threw caution to the wind and gave natural conception a shot. It wouldn't happen, but their ultimate goal was bonding through sex.

Qimir started by removing Yord's shirt and kissing his neck, making his way to his chest, from left to middle and burying his face in Yord's chest. He turned his head slightly to bite his pecs. He felt Yord pull him closer and guide him to their bed on top of him.

Yord separated his legs to let Qimir lay on him. He slid his hands down Qimir's back and started pulling on his shirt. Qimir lifted himself up to allow his button to be undone so his bare chest could be pressed again his lover's.

He made his way back up Yord's neck to his jaw line, then finally to his lips. He pushed his tongue into his mouth.

Yord's free hand yanked Qimir's pants. He took his free hand to help get his pants completely off before springing up to free Yord from his. The two locked eyes as Qimir positioned himself between Yord's legs and penetrated him.

He knew his little jedi rule follower was enjoying it. He penetrated deeper to get closer to his fellow former Jedi. He made his way back up through placing a trail of kisses on Yord's stomach, then chest, then neck, and finally reuniting their lips.

He returned to biting Yord's neck just below his jaw line. Humping just right to make Yord moan with each thrust. Yord wrapped his arm tightly around Qimir and grabbed a handful of his hair.

Qimir whispered filth into Yord's ear to make him more aroused. "Jedi scum!"

"Fuck the Jedi." Yord yelled as he orgasmed

"No. Fuck you!" Qimir smirked.

"Fuck me yourself, coward!" Yord snapped. Qimir pulled out to flip Yord over and reentered him.

"You're going to regret that." Qimir teased.

"I better." Yord moaned.

"You broke so many rules." Qimir started. "I have to do this. You're making me do this."

"I'll break more!" Yord moaned as Qimir pulled Yord closer. He felt Qimir bury his penis deeper into him. One of his hands interlaced with Yord's own, the other grabbing Yord's chest.

Yord got his turn on top. There was no kissing this time. It got a little rougher. Qimir thrusted while Yord moaned. Qimir's strong hands on his hips, holding him in place.

Knowing his Jedi wasn't going anywhere, Qimir grabbed Yord's dick and started massaging it. He kept playing with it and rubbing it just right.

The look of absolute pleasure of Yord's face made him go rougher. Between his own orgasms, he checked to make sure Yord was still experiencing pleasure.

With the two men facing each other once more, Yord lowered himself to Qimir's chest for his turn to leave hickeys and bite marks. Leaving a trail of kisses up his chest and neck to reach his lips. This time, he pushed his tongue into Qimir's mouth. They shared deep, passionate kisses.

Passionate kisses that would continue even after Qimir came inside Yord three times. They both experienced many orgasms at the same time. Every time he came he felt Yord's inner muscles tighten around his cock.

The session was over. Or so Qimir thought as he watched Yord get off of him. Only for Yord to spread his legs and penetrate Qimir.

"You think you weren't going to have to answer for your crimes?" Yord teased. Qimir was surprised at Yord's sudden snatching of control. He loved it!

"Yord Fandar!" Qimir laughed easing himself. "Are you bossing me around now?"

Yord closed the distance between them, returning the penetration he gave him earlier. Yord copied Qimir's trail of kisses up his chest to his lips. Not missing a step.

Through their connection, Yord knew Qimir was loving this. He would be pleasantly surprised by Yord taking charge. Qimir left scratch marks on Yord's back. They exchanged a few more long, passionate kisses before Yord came and pulled out.

Yord laid on his back and pulled Qimir towards him. Qimir rested his head under Yord's chin. Their arms wrapped tightly around each other before they finally rested.

"You were okay with what I did, right?" Yord asked.

"I love it when you take control." Qimir answered, running his hand across Yord's chest and stomach. "It was quite a pleasant surprise. You are free to do it more. If I don't like it, I will let you know. It will most likely be because I'm tired."

"Good. I'm glad we can agree on this." He kissed Qimir's head and then tilted his head up to kiss his lips. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." Qimir replied, returning the kiss.

"I remember we first did this as padawans in our late teens." Yord whispered. "The thrill of it combined with worrying if one of our masters would walk in on us."

"I remember that too." Qimir laughed. "We were on a mission to your home planet of Alderann, and our masters had to go help with peace negotiations. Little did they know we were also having negotiations."

[beantothemax]

The dragonstones had all been returned to their rightful owner. Along the way, Therion had encountered a ghost from his past. With some blood, sweat and lots of tears, that was dealt with. Well, his friends also helped.

Alfyn had been more than happy to be a shoulder to cry on when Darius showed his horrid grin again. He was surprised such an encounter had affected Therion so much, but he didn't judge him. Therion needed support and he would provide it.

The thief watched intently as the butler removed the fool's bangle from his wrist. He rubbed his wrist as Cordelia began speaking.

"I know our deal is over, but you're welcome to visit whenever you want to," she smiled.

Therion hardly heard a word of what she said over the excitement of his newfound freedom. His arm was so light without that accursed chain. The sore, red indent it created was free.

"I'll think about it," he muttered, though his attention was still fixed on his wrist.

They exchanged shallow farewells before Therion left. He didn't return to the inn. He had to be alone. The others didn't need to see him cry again.

Boulderfall fortunately had several nooks and crannies to hide in. It took no time to find one on a cliff high above town. Therion could look down at the citizens as they went about their days. He sat leaning on a rock and instead stared at the sky.

Clouds rushed by in the strong wind. How light they must be. The heavy weight on Therion's wrist felt as light as the fluffy clouds looked.

When he shed the fool's bangle, every memory with it no longer meant anything. They shouldn't. That chapter of his life was behind him now, and he could move onto something new.

But he thought of Darius. How that man terrified him. He always thought he could kill him if they met again, but when they did, he could hardly fight. He had to rely on his friends to kill that bastard as he stood frozen in shock.

Alfyn had been the one to drag him out when Darius fell. He rushed Therion to the inn and held him as he cried. He stayed with him for hours, stroking his hair and kissing his cheek till he had worn himself down and could cry no more.

The memories of burdening Alfyn could go too. They were unpleasant. He didn't want to rely on anyone, especially not him. Such a sweet man deserved to love someone just as good as himself.

"Finally found you! We were starting to get worried," that oh so beloved voice said.

Therion looked to his side at the cheerful Alfyn who approached. He sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"It's nice up here," he smiled.

Instinctively, he leaned on his lover. He was exhausted and Alfyn's chest was his favorite pillow.

"So you got the band off?" he asked.

Therion nodded and lifted his hand which Alfyn took. He carefully held it as he examined the mark. The feeling of Alfyn's hands holding his own was familiar and welcome. But Alfyn pressed a kiss to the mark.

"It'll go away soon," he said.

Gods, he really was the sweetest.

"Are you sure you like being with me?" Therion muttered.

That question made Alfyn's heartache even more everytime he was asked. Therion was perfect in every way but couldn't see it himself.

"Why wouldn't I? You stole back three dragonstones! You know how awesome that is!?" Alfyn smiled like a child.

"I guess it is."

... Perhaps not all fool's bangle memories were bad. Lots of them had Alfyn. He would laugh with and kiss and hold Therion with the biggest smile on his face. Those memories were precious.

pie….. pie!!!!!!!!!

THIS IS THE SWEETEST NICEST THING EVER OH MY GOSH

just!!!!!! the! everything!!!!!!! alfyn always being there for therion whenever he isn’t feeling ok!!!!! him always staying with theri whenever he was upset until he literally couldn’t cry anymore!!! all of that happening directly after the fight with darius!!!!!!! theri thinking that he doesn’t deserve alfyn but he does!!!! he deserves so so much and he just doesn’t know that!!!!!

and the whole thing you’re with the fool’s bangle being a physical representation of his memories!!!! with it off he’s leaving a part of his life behind!!!! but when alfyn kisses it!!! it’s like!!!! not all the memories with it were bad!!!!!!! aaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!

I am going to go to your house and. piledrive you directly into your bed because I love this so so so much. how are those two related? good question.

[stuffs-i-wrote]

Guardians

Soldiers were the first. They came to be sometime around the tenth century. Take from that what you will. The first was Nicole, though she went by a different name at that time. She was taken in by the war god, who can be called The Rush, for gods have no need for names, and turned into the first modern-day God-Killer. At the time, however, they were just called the Others. That particular name wouldn’t come until the late 19th century. 

All The Rush wanted from his experiment with the Others was bloodshed. He truly was a war god, and cared little for other things. This didn’t bother Nicole, however, because fighting was something she did even before being chosen by a god. She did her job until she was fatally wounded, and pulled off the battlefield, for good. The Rush, in anger, cursed her with poisonous breath, though he did revoke his curse when she promised to raise another generation of warriors. Nicole kept her promise and the second generation of Others were raised. 

Nicole did her best with them, but they still ended up dying in battle. Nicole mourned, The Rush raged, and the cycle continued. In an attempt to keep her people from being completely wiped out, Nicole took to more covert tactics. Leading smaller groups to her kids for an ambush, keeping the people they’ve caught for longer periods. It was all about the adrenaline rush. 

As time passed, and Sovereigns and Scholars were brought about, The Rush gifted his warriors with something to make them stronger and faster. They sprouted fur and scales, more animal than man. Nicole groomed her children to be obedient and never question her, convincing herself it is for their own good. There was a hierarchy. The best fighters were given more leeway and responsibility, the worst more constricted. Nicole runs a tight ship and does not allow for deviation. 

The Rush was killed sometime in the 20th century, around the 1930s. He had gotten too greedy, and decided to curse Nicole and steal her away from her children. Soldiers rallied against him, with help from Scholars and Sovereigns, and The Rush was killed by a Scholar named *********. By the Rules of Conquests, She became the new goddess of war. 

Sovereigns were next. There’s a bit of confusion as to when they truly came to be, but most agree that they first came to be around the 16th century, when The Glow went out to find her own Guardian. She picked Chiron and gave him the gift of flight with raven wings. The Rush decided that he couldn’t be outdone, and forced his warriors to go through the pain of an Enhancement, as well. 

Chiron traveled for many years, flexing his newfound freedom, until he met a certain poet in the 1800s. The poet made Chiron his muse and faked his death years later. The Glow turned him into an immortal raven so Chiron could have him around forever. Or as long as he would like. Chiron settled down in the House and took to his duties with pride, well… There was a rough patch in the 1940s, but he’s fine. Really!

The Glow was more specific with her worshipers than The Rush or even ********* were. With Soldiers, Nicole was the one who had the final say and she would say no if she saw no potential. But The Glow had a much more hands-on approach. She would have Chiron bring them to Her and see them for Herself. If She found you satisfactory, She would bless you with Her divinity. It would scar something fierce, but it gave Sovereigns the ability to shine brightly. She also granted them with one wish, and most went with changes to their appearances, a different hair color or body shape, a new nose perhaps. 

Sovereigns tend to be the face of the House, even now, and love anything shiny and expensive. They’re vices are more carnal pleasures over a Soldier’s more innocent need to please. Sovereigns have a bad habit of caring for nothing but themselves and what brings them joy, which makes them exciting to their goddess, which keeps them alive. But it also makes them cruel and narcissistic.

Scholars were third, and the last, Ones to be added, and they didn’t have a Guardian for many generations. There were two periods of Scholars, the old ones (called Poets) and the way they are now. The end of the Poets was marked by the loss of their Guardian, Lavender, who was murdered by two Others. The two were cast out, but their actions still affect Scholars to this day, but they are a story for another time. 

It took thirty years for The Librarian to find someone new for his acolytes. He eventually found His choice in a young woman named Ana, who was marching for peace in America. The Librarian offered to support her endeavors in exchange for servitude, and she agreed. He remade Ana in His image, even giving her a new name, Lilian. 

Lilian is still alive today, and is honored throughout her time in the House as a kind woman who lets her charges do as they please. She worships The Librarian so her charges can spend their time doing things that actually interest them, He is not picky so long as He has someone giving Him attention. 

Scholars are just that, scholarly. They want nothing more than to know everything about everything. They’re also the most magically inclined out of all three Classes. Scholar personalities are marked more by their love of knowledge and thirst for power than anything else. While Sovereigns fight outwardly and act rashly for power, true Scholars are sneakier. They play the helpless victim until they get whatever it is they’re after. This has the unfortunate side effect of actually helpless individuals becoming Scholars. The Librarian allows this because He enjoys watching his acolytes struggle amongst themselves. 

He is perhaps the most picky of all gods, real or not. He expects nothing but exactly what He wants from His people, and won’t allow for anything else. Scholars quickly become amazing actors. The Librarian takes great pleasure in breaking strong personalities until they become completely reliant on Him, because the more He’s needed, the more He’s worshiped. Most bird-people come from Scholars. 

Scholars are the keepers of history for Others, and they hide large catacombs full of information. Past trials, old scrolls of ancient magics, even the dead are taken here. It is the most well protected place in the House, and Soldiers would give their lives to protect it. They have. The Librarian gave his acolytes the ability to float, to traverse the catacombs easier, most Scholars use it to play up the helpless act.

[slasherhaven]

Hi!! Love your blog <3

Could you write how the slashers would react to their newest victim (and future S/O) succumbing to Stockholm syndrome?

The Slasher with a victim (future S/O) that succumbs to Stockholm Syndrome

Thomas Hewitt 

Thomas is confused but slowly accepts it. When you first start showing signs of...affection? Tommy is just confused. At first he just thinks it’s a trick to get him to let you go but you continue, you’re kind, you try to speak to him, you seem to want him around, and you oddly submissive, agreeing to do what the family asked of you. But your trust and affection seemed mostly focused on Thomas. He didn’t understand your change of heart but he accepted it, it couldn’t be a bad thing to you have around, to have you love him.

Luda May encourages it. As long as you you follow the rules, continue to prove you can be trusted, and continue to grow close to Thomas, she is happy with this. She’ll be the one mostly in charge of your ‘rules’. This mostly includes how much freedom around the house. At first you need constant supervision, usually from Thomas which encourages you both to keep growing closer, but eventually you’ll be allowed to move around the house as you wish. But only once you prove that you aren’t going to run, that your change of heart is real.

Michael Myers

Had already formed an obsession with you. Michael isn’t known for holding any victims captive, so this is a first for both of you. Something about you just told him that he had to have you, so he did and kept you in the house he grew up in. Of course, at first, you had fought and begged he let you do, but he just had to keep you around for some reason. Then your behaviour started to change. No arguing, more submission, staring, and the only time you begged was for him to not leave. Apparently, you didn’t like being left along for a long time.

Is under no illusions about what is really going on. He knows that you aren’t actually falling in love with him, this was Stockholm syndrome. He just doesn’t care. Either way, he gets your submission, you stop fighting him, and he gets what he wants. You, just without the hassle.

Jason Voorhees 

Likely formed some sort of obsession with you and wants to protect you. Among your group of friends, you stood out to him. He just felt the need to protect you, to keep you tucked away in the safety of his cabin. So, that’s exactly what he did. He snatched you up and took you home. At first you were scared and upset, begging to be let go, promising now to say anything. He didn’t like it but he understood it. He was just giving it time, hoping you would come around.

He’s cautious but accepting of your change. He notices your gradual change. How you calm down, becoming less nervous and more comfortable around him, even seeming to want to be around him. At first he is cautious, just wanting to make sure that this isn’t a trick or something, but he’d gradually accept your change, happily doing so. He much prefers having you move about the cabin and be around him because you want to be rather than because you’re scared.

Brahms Heelshire 

Just thinks he’s getting what he wants. He doesn’t realise it’s Stockholm syndrome, he doesn’t even consider it as a possibility. He just thinks that you’ve finally come around to loving him and taking care of him, since that’s all he ever wanted you to do. That’s what he told you that you had to do.

Takes advantage of it. Brahms sees how you’ve become submissive to him and takes full advantage of it. By now you’ll be following his ‘rules’ like they’re your religion and doing so without complaint. Not only will you allow physical affection, you will initiate it and desire it as well. You’d never say no to him, and that’s exactly what he wants from you. The way he sees it, you’ve just become the perfect nanny.

Bo Sinclair

Finds it humorous. When he realises what’s happening, that you’re showing signs of Stockholm syndrome and that he is your main attachment, he is just amused. Well, this should be interesting. He’s definitely going to mess around with it, see what he can get you to go, even tease you about falling for him.

Knows that it’s Stockholm syndrome but doesn’t care. He’s well aware of what is going on here, he simply doesn’t care for your reasoning. He doesn’t care that the feeling aren’t real, that doesn’t matter to him. As long as you’re obedient and do as he says, he’s all good with it.

Vincent Sinclair

Is just confused. He doesn’t understand why you stopped crying and struggling, or why you started asking him to stay with you. You wanted him to be around, you wanted to be closer to him whenever Bo was in the room. He just couldn’t understand why. He had just as much a part in your friends’ death as Bo, so why weren’t you as afraid of him?

Doesn’t mind unless you become a threat to the town. When it became clear that you were being completely sincere about your newfound feelings (even though Bo was completely aware you were suffering from Stockholm syndrome), the brothers decided to keep you around. Bo made it clear that you were Vincent’s responsibility and he was alright with that, since you seemed so okay with that.

Lester Sinclair

He had felt guilty and showed you kindness. The twins were holding you for longer than usual and you were just so scared, crying and pleading to be let go, promising that you would tell anyone about Ambrose. It made Lester feel bad for you. So, he would come and give you food and drink, make sure you were as comfortable as you could be given the situation, he would give you company even though he was sure that you wouldn’t want that from him. But when you started to look forward to his visits, speak more to him, the two of you becoming friendly.

Is worried about your attachment to him but it saves your life. He knew it wasn’t normal for somebody being held hostage to become so friendly with one of their captures, he knew that is should be a cause for concern. But he liked your company, he liked you, and even his brothers thought your friendliness and attachment to him was sincere. It saved your life because Lester managed to convince Bo to let you live, to let you live with him, more specifically. You would still be under close watch but it should slowly ease up, at least with Lester.

Bubba Sawyer 

Has no concept of Stockholm syndrome. When you start ‘warming up’ to him, that’s all he thinks it is. He thinks you’re starting to like him and he likes you, so he doesn’t see the problem. He’s excited to have a new friend.

Kind of treats you like a pet. Drayton had been very strict about you being Bubba’s responsibility if he wanted to keep you. Like a parent would tell a child when they ask for a pet. So, it makes sense that Bubba would take that seriously. He would take care of you, bringing you food and drink, new clothes, keeping you in his room until the family trusts you enough to move through the house freely.

Billy Lenz

Thinks you’ve just warmed up to him. Billy just knows that you’ve stopped seeming upset and seem more comfortable. He honestly just thinks you’ve started to like him. You had been his favourite, it’s why he kept you instead of killing you. Only, you hadn’t seemed too happy about it at the time. So, this was just you calming down and starting to like him...right?

Realises he can get away with a lot more now. You have stopped flinching away from him whenever he gets too close so he tries to initiate more physical contact, thrilled when you allow it. Even more thrilled when you seek it out.

Asa Emory (The Collector) 

It was possibly intentional. If you manage to be exposed to Asa enough to form any sort of attachment to him, he’s probably on purpose. He had probably taken a liking to you, decided to keep you, the Stockholm syndrome was just a bonus.

Will play with you because of it. He’ll keep you locked up in one of the suites in the hotel, provide food and water, new clothes that he wants you to wear. He loves your submission and obedience to him, he loves that you’ve developed some sort of reliance on him. He loves messing with you, seeing what he can get you to do. Could he walk you around the hotel and show you his collection and still have you crave his attention once he gets you back to your room?

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

Knows exactly what is happening. As soon as you start showing signs of Stockholm syndrome, Jesse is invested in seeing where this goes. He’s going to push you, tease you, test just how deep in you are. Apparently, you’re pretty far gone because you’re stilling hanging on to him. Still seeking his attention and even his affection, taking whatever he will give you.

Will still take advantage of it. He knows that’s happening but that won’t stop him from using it against you. He’s not going to kill you though, this is much more fun. He likes your submission but he wants to see if he can get you to fully seek him out, not quite as subtly as you already do. He wants to know if he can come back from a kill, take a seat, and have you place yourself on his lap as if on instinct.

Otis Driftwood

As soon as he realises what’s going on, he’s smirking. He doesn’t care that this is Stockholm syndrome, he’s done worse than take advantage of somebody who isn’t completely mentally stable. And, hey, right now you seem to enjoy his attention quite a bit. He will push you to your limit before drawing you back in with gentleness, something he isn’t familiar with but knows will wash away all the stuff that might push you away from him completely.

Might just have to keep you around, for as long as this continues at least. It’s fun, he’s going to keep playing with you. The only thing is that once you snap, unable to take it anymore even with the Stockholm syndrome, you wouldn’t be of much use to him.

Baby Firefly

Oh...this is going to be fun. She’s excited about your behaviour. You want to please her and she’s more than happy to let you, presenting you to the family, telling them that she’s keeping you.

Treats you a little like a toy. To her, you’re an object. All you seem to want is to please her and all she wants is to let you. She’ll dress you up how she wants, have you do as she says, the praise and affection you get being your reward that keeps you around.

[thebadbatch]

Echo x Gn!Reader

Plot: You and Echo sneak out to enjoy the planets scenery, connections are made together during the time you spend exploring.

Warnings: None! Just fun and fluff

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

Moonlit freedom.

Lounging around on the well-known Havoc Marauder wasn't anything drastically different compared to your usual packed and mission filled day, but something was pulling on your heart and playing on your mind in the most delightful way. Gazing around the cockpit, you couldn't help but gaze at the setting Sun before you. The sun that you unfortunately didn't get to see too much due to travelling in Space constantly was giving off powerful strides of honey orange with a golden sunflower toned yellow interlacing it. Fluffy white clouds hovered over the hills and what seemed to be trillions of trees waving toward you softly against the gusts of wind. The batch had agreed on landing here to go into hiding for a few days, all part of a well paid mission you had all thoroughly enjoyed. A sudden yet gentle hand placed itself upon your shoulder which only furtherly added to your smile and that growing excitement building against your heart and mind. 

"Enjoying the view?" Echo's joyful words filled the otherwise quiet cockpit. Turning gently in his light grip, you grinned up toward him with the usual spark of Mischief lurking in your eyes. "Oh Maker, what are you thinking?" That gentle laugh of yours escaped your lips, moving to hold his colder hand and pout jokingly.

"And what makes you think I'm up to no good?" He just shook his head, smiling softly at you as he gave your hand a light squeeze.

"That look in your eyes, I know you're planning something." Echo was right, as always. The batch had all been tuckered out as the sun began to set which left both you and Echo up to wonder about the attack shuttle you loved so much. Letting go of his gloved hand, you moved to lean over the control panel ensuring you didn't click any of the buttons otherwise Tech would murder you. 

"I want to sneak out!" That was definitely not something he expected to hear from the person who was a literal killing machine out on the battlefield. 

"Sneak out?" He repeated, looking at the scenery before you both with a curious gaze. Tilting your head a little to face him again you couldn't help but gasp as another idea crept into your head which almost knocked you off of your feet. You were just that excited. 

"Come with me!" You managed to steady yourself on your feet with a little of Echo's help as he sighed a little, trying to seem all resistant against your idea. "It'll be fun - please?"

"Yeah, yeah alright y/n." Echo was a little hesitant and you knew that. He wasn't one to do something spontaneous as he was one of the most rule-following clones you knew which you kinda felt bad about. Not only was he once assigned to Anakin Skywalker's Squad but then he joined the bad batch, all of which were terrible with rules and routines. Turning toward the world that awaited your arrival, you noticed the golden yellows and amber oranges began to darken even more with stars beginning to appear.

"Come on! Let's go." With that, you tugged on his hand and activated the shuttle to open the door, smiling as the planet's fresh air filled your lungs. You weren't used to such calm planets as the last few missions led you all to worlds with atmospheres you couldn't breathe in or just overall way too dangerous. Softly walking forward, the emerald bladed grass greeted your feet and the soft gusts of wind movedthe hair away from your eyes with a little of Echos help. 

"Where exactly are we heading to?" He asked, curiosity drowning out his usual tone as you both walked into the distance, still in view of the attack shuttle. Swiftly moving past some taller trees coated in beautiful coffee stained oak, your eyes laid upon the glistening blue lake your eyes had met earlier. 

"There." You couldn't help but smile as you pointed toward the calm water, something you really weren't used to seeing. All of you were used to rough and angry oceans which would claim any life that dared to face it. This was a welcome change though, you desperately wanted to feel the calm water against your skin. Once you finally arrived, you let go of Echos hand and knelt beside it against quartz and moonstone toned pebbles."Woah…" You whispered softly placing your hands within the water and shivering at its cool touch. "Echo! Try." He hesitantly knelt beside you, placing his hand beside yours in the cold water, shivering with you at the sudden drop of temperature. You laughed a little at his confused expression before rolling up the clothing you wore against your legs, gently stepping into the water gripping onto Echo as that familiar cold temperature shook your body. 

"Be careful, mesh'la." Those words alone warmed you up as you allowed yourself to Splash about, kicking against the water with a laugh. Gazing over at Echo, you tilted your head and gave him another soft smile before holding your hand out for him to take. "Ah, I dont think I can." His previous smile dulled as he held onto his prosthetic arm, a more pained expression appearing. "Tech will kill me if my prosthetics kriff up." Softly taking your hand back you walked towards him and placed your cold hands against his cheeks as you spoke.

"That's Okay! You're wearing armour on your legs… I promise to make sure you're all dry and everything when we get back?" Your tone was convincing but it definatly relaxed Echo as he nodded a little, stepping into the water with a smile. The chill seemed to reach through his armour as your cold hand held his own. Gazing along the water, you couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief as the moon glistened against the lake. Just you and Echo, in all honesty all you needed to recharge was this. A sudden splash dragged you back to reality quite suddenly before realizing you were absolutely soaked beside a laughing Echo. Without any hesitation you splashed some water against Echos face which left you both dripping wet and laughing. Stopping for a moment, You planted a kiss against his lips that instantly warmed him up along with yourself. " I love you."

" I love you too…" 

The small waterfight continued for a few more hours until you both arrived back at the Havoc Marauder dripping wet and praying to your maker that the others had awoken. Walking up the ramp, you shut it behind you both before nearly jumping out of  your skin with Hunter standing in the middle of the Cockpit in his blacks, arms folded. Oh kriff… Both of you stood still like a deer in headlights.

"And what do you two think You're doing back so late?" Echo could no longer hold in his laughter as he held onto you which just made you laugh twice as hard. Hunter just sighed and rubbed his forehead, "I could literally hear you both from a mile away now get dried up and to your bunks alright?" Even he couldn't hold back a smirk as he walked back to his own bunk thankful for some newfound silence. You both obliged, drying up and going into your bunk after convincing Echo to stay for 'body warmth' reasons. You were both entangled in eachothers arms , warming up and finally allowing much-welcomed sleep to greet you both. Adventures like these were everything to you and you knew there were plenty more to come.

[aeondeug]

So As Yet Unsent did a number on me and got me to love Judith. It also left me wanting to write something for the research she did before going to proposition Marta. And so here is that something! A series of three narrative poems about Judith gradually working up the nerve to ask Marta:

The first time you read one You had been walking through the halls To find and spy an excited gaggle Gathered around and whispering On just how hard it had been for Them to sneak this into the shipments. Those composed there heard you step, One shooting upright with a salute While another swore and asked Just what was up only to look right And see you standing there Spine erect, face grim and firm. He blanched at the sight seen And lost the words in his throat And all his years of training too Until you reminded him of them. Each head there rose one by one, Hands folded behind their back neatly, And you did not even interrogate them But instead demanded outright and bald For whatever contraband they’d snuck in To be handed over to you now Before more serious measures be taken. One made a comment, an argument, Saying there was none to be found And that he was quite confused as to why You’d even think to ask them of that. You asked him if he thought you stupid, To which he answered “No, sir”, smartly, To which you said you thought him stupid. Very. A smart one meanwhile pushed out her hands To reveal a book with a silly title And an even sillier cover, A truly stupid prize to sneak through customs. You frowned and thought to yourself How a kinder officer would let it slide, But you were the image of the Second House And with it the image of the Cohort, There could be no quarter given, So you snatched the book from those hands Barely giving it or her a glance. Then you ordered them off on a run With a note that you’d be going up And informing their superiors in due time. Later that night, such as they’re counted Up in the dead expanse of the stars, You looked down at the book Which sat with a stack of flimsies on your desk Ready to be sent off and be disposed of. It wasn’t the first romance you’d seen Of this very specific subject matter, But it was the first you’d held admittedly. You looked over its cover again With its handsome, strapping cavalier Whose coat was not to code, collar open, And in whose arms lay a shrinking adept, Eyes closed serenely, lips lightly parted. You sneered at the thing and thought Of how it and the flimises would be off soon, Heading further down the bureaucratic chain. But instead of grabbing them each and all To be carried off and away as needed, You picked up the book with a scoff And you opened it to a random page To give it a slight read before it burned. The dialogue was atrocious, first off, And the narration lingered too long, Being overly fond of outfits and lamps and more. It was a horrible book in truth, But you turned to its first page feeling bored And set to reading it right through that night. There hadn’t been a new book in weeks, And you were just growing so tired Of the stack of ones already read. This is what you told yourself that night As you read through the whole tome Until eventually you were through it all And its whole sordid tale Of a cavalier and their necromancer. It was the first you’d read.

--

The second time you read one You actually read a set of three together. They were from three authors And from three subgenres, Sharing only one thing in common: A love between a cav and their adept. These books you’d gathered for yourself Based off the writings you’d seen In book magazines on your off days And based off the talk you’d heard Among others in the cafeteria. It was something of a pain, it was, Paying off person after person again In search of these three particular books While leaving behind you a trail Too confounding to be traced to you. For should you be found out about You’d be called a hypocrite by your men, And soon the word would spread around About Judith Deuteros’ unseemly interests. Thankfully your years of tearing apart smuggling rings Had taught you well how to travel and talk, So you felt yourself quite safe As you gathered up your secret finds. Yet safety had or no, you hid them carefully And you moved through each slowly, Fearing every last noise you heard reading Was someone noticing your newfound habit. These books weren’t much better than the first, Is what you told yourself those days After having read through them each. As the dialogue was still off in all three, And the one loved adverbs far, far too much, And you only needed see one love triangle To know you never wanted to see another. And of the whole lot you felt the worst Was the one about the Cohort pair, For nothing was accurate in the least, And everyone would be court martialed At least nine times over, God willing. That was assuming the pair ever left training, Which you thought was very doubtful. Yet in the nights after reading it When you had disposed of them each and all, It was that Cohort book you thought of And neither of the other two, Though they were slightly less awful. The cavalier was nothing like Marta. They were overbold and cared not for order. At the best you’d called them a fool, But for all your unkind words to the cav You had far colder ones for the adept, In whom you saw none of yourself. Yet as you lay in bed one night You thought of one moment halfway in the book Where the adept had cornered their cav, Pressing them to a wall before a mission That was sure to kill them both at last. You’d thought of how the cav rebuffed them And how you thought that very proper, But the adept had pressed on And refused to back away or let up As they asked one very important question: They ask you and expect you to die for me, But they tell me I can’t feel a thing for you? Why is that the case? How is that fair? There was an argument after those words, Which was smoothed over by a kiss, Sudden and fierce, which saved The cav from having to answer that “Why?” You told yourself this was stupid. You told yourself you hated it. Yet you thought to yourself at night On those missions now past Where you’d seen Marta glorious And you’d seen her vulnerable too. You thought of all the talks you had Just the two of your together And the ease at which they flowed, As with no other person you knew. You thought of esprit de corps and how, Though you felt connected to your fellows More than with any civilian you had ever known, That there was a connection unique to her. There was a bond between the two of you Tighter than any other you held, And they asked her to die for you While demanding you feel nothing on that. Why?

--

The third time you read oneIt wasn’t a novel you read, really,As the book was one part essay, one part storyAnd most of all it was a treatise and memoire.This one you’d found while perusing throughThe Sixth House’s vast libraries duringA very rare Sixth House ballWhich you found even more dull thanAll the other balls you’d gone to,Be they of the Third or of the Fifth.So as the Sixth took to the their booksOver the drinking and the dancing,So did you set to your own researches.Normally at one of these events,You would stand with Marta together,Back erect, face grim and firm,Rebuffing the attempts of those about youTo get you to dance or to laugh or whatever else,And the Third’s princess was always the hardestFor you to shake off, for private reasons.But Coronabeth was not here, thank God,And this was no Third House ball but a Sixth one,Which left you with this one and only chanceTo search through their vast storesOf knowledge you thought unworthy of preservation.Your search was a secretive oneOf which you didn’t even tell Marta,Having left her side saying onlyThat you were going to the bathroom,And adding that she was free to enjoy the festivities.To which she laughed a bit,Because what festivities were there here?You smiled and told her to seek outAnother who loved those same books thatThe two of you had first bonded over.So you had left her to go and lookFor books on the subject of thatMost great and mighty of taboos,Of which you dared not say word to Marta of.The search was seemingly fruitless.At first because certain libraries hereWere off limits to the party guests,Then next because the one you’d found hadOnly an endless treasure troveOf mystery novels spanning centuries on,Till at last you had to admit to yourselfThat the Sixth’s knowledge hoards hadA scheme that not even you could navigate alone.So, nervously, you stepped up to a SixthWith her nose buried in a bookAnd you asked her outright, bald,Trying your best to seem nonchalant,If the Sixth held any books at allOn the matter of necros and cavs joined together,Not just by tradition, but by romance.She raised a brow at you standing there,The proper daughter of the fleet admiral,Asking for books on a most improper topic,But when she saw you budge not one bitShe shrugged her shoulders and led you offTo a part of the library you’d passed six times before.As you waited and watched, heart pounding,She pulled forth a book with a cover, nondescript.She handed it to you saying lazilyTo leave it on one of the carts when you finished.You thanked her formally and hoped thatNeither your face nor your step saidAnything about your mood or your intent.You were scared, to be truthful.More scared than you ever had beenIn the bustle of open combat,Because at least battle you understoodAnd because however it was you died on the fieldYour father would stand up and would sayOf you, his daughter, that never hadThere been a more proper Second toHave ever graced these Nine Houses.That you were a Second House heir so properThat a woman with a career so promisingAs the most esteemed Marta Dyas Had put aside those far off starsTo take her cavalier vows for life,Binding you as necro and cav.Between freedom and glory afar,She had picked you above them bothWhen you had only girlish hopesThat even your father told youWere far too high and likely to fail.So as you read that book thereHidden in a Sixth House nookYou were more scared than ever before,Because you were looking for an answerTo an argument you had with yourselfOver whether there was any chance at allFor you and your girlish hopes.What you found was not what you wanted,As the author went on and on about thingsThat were tangential at best to what you sought.You read about her overbearing father andYou read about her merciless DI andYou read about a friend you thought the cavUntil said friend died without one whisperOf those four words that haunted youBecause they held you back from a more wanted three.It took you a good hour to get to it,And that came with some skimmingThrough page after page about things you cared not for,But you finally found it tucked awayIn the middle of that book: an essay on necros and cavs.The essay spanned only four pages longAnd it did not go into much detailAbout the relationship between the twoIn a personal and intimate sense.Instead she spoke primarily of herselfAnd of her ever growing shameAnd of her ever expanding list of questionsOn whether the arguments in praise of that shameHeld any weight to them at all.She spoke too of how setting love aside,Trying to pretend she felt none of it,Had done her no good at all.It had led to an argument, in fact,Between her and her cavalierWho could not understand whyShe had been so cagey all the timeWhen before she’d been so open, so free.This was the most you ever got to seeOf the cavalier herself beyondThat she too was a Cohort woman.You read and you read and you readBefore rereading the whole thing againTrying to tell yourself it was stupidAnd that the author was stupid too.You shut the book in disgust, sneering,And you dropped it off in a cart sayingHow you couldn’t see how the SixthCould think this thing worth preserving.Then you went back to find MartaWho asked you where you’d beenTo which you said you’d been accostedBy the Sixth House bookworms askingWhat you had most recently read,At which she laughed and said “Vicious aren’t they?”You smiled and agreed and said nothing more.And six weeks later you lay in bedThinking to yourself on that essayAnd the arguments held within it.Six weeks later you told yourselfThat perhaps it might be okay, after all,And that the very next day you’d sayTo Marta that you felt something more.

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 15.20: “Carry On”

I’ll warn you right now - I did not hate it.

THEN: Chuck loses. Jack is God. The Winchesters are finally free.

NOW: Friends, get ready for a whole lot of fan service in the next few minutes. It's like TPTB have been reading everything we say and giving us what we want.

As a song about "ordinary life" plays, Dean's retro alarm clock goes off at 8:00. He shuts it off and sits up so we can see he's wearing a henley shirt (fan service points: 1). As he stretches, he's greeted by Miracle the dog (fan service points: 2)! Who is apparently his dog and definitely not Sam's!

But it's okay because LOOK AT THEM.

Meanwhile, Sam is running (fan service points: 3) and enjoying the beautiful day. When he gets home, he cooks (fan service points: 4) the same dry scrambled eggs that Stevie made for Charlie. Dean wanders in, wearing the dead guy robe, just as two slices of toast pop out of the toaster. I am not giving the robe any points because I don't think it's anything we all publicly long for and get excited about when it comes up, but I am willing to consider any opposing arguments. Sam, wearing just a t-shirt (5 points), tells Dean "it's hot" and I say mmm, yes it is. Dean adorably burns his hands on the hot toast and then brushes his teeth. You know what, I think the robe deserves a point after all. We're up to 6.

And we're not even two minutes into the episode.

And then they JUST KEEP COMING because Sam walks in, exposing his tattoo (7) because he's SHIRTLESS (8), scrubbing at his WET HAIR (9) with a towel, and I curse The Husband for deciding to watch with me because it means it would be kind of awkward to rewind and watch this a few more times. There's not even any dialog I can pretend I didn't catch.

I was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.

He pulls on the grey v-neck t-shirt of sex (10) and proceeds to carefully make his bed. Dean, meanwhile, kind of sloppily throws his bed together and calls it done. Domestic Winchesters for 11 fan service points, please. Part of me feels like Dean's messy room is OOC, considering how proud he was to have his own room in the first place. But then I have to consider the trunk of the Impala, especially when compared to the hyper-organized neatness of her trunk when Sam's all alone in Mystery Spot, and it feels right. (Why am I thinking about Sam being all alone in Mystery Spot? NO REASON, NO REASON AT ALL.)

Sam's hair in his face while he makes his bed? Yes, please (12 points).

Dean washes the breakfast dishes (13), sneaking some leftover (because they were nasty) eggs to Miracle and looking around to make sure Sam doesn't see, because obviously Sam's going to be the one who doesn't want the dog to get table scraps. Sam put on a plaid shirt earlier, but we see him in the laundry room back down to one v-neck t-shirt (thank you Jack). He's reading as his laundry tumbles in the dryer, and he has to kick the dryer once to stop it from making noise, which I guess is why he's in there babysitting it. I keep reading on Tumblr that people want "at least one laundry scene," as if that didn't exist in The Monster at the End of This Book, but here's your laundry scene, friends. You were right to want it; it is marvelous (14).

Just look at that collection of plaid shirts and tell me it doesn't make you happy.

Dean times himself assembling a gun, complete with plenty of hand closeups (15) and then sits in the library with Miracle, scratching his ears (Miracle's, not his own) and apparently looking for a case. Sam comes in and joins them. He hasn't found anything, but Dean gets a serious look on his face and says "I got something."

Spoiler alert: It is my heart.

Title card!

The Impala pulls to a stop and the guys get out, still with serious looks on their faces. Oddly, the episode title flashes on screen really quickly. Or maybe it's just me. "Sure you're ready for this?" says Sam. "Oh, I don't have a choice," answers Dean. "This is my destiny." And that is exactly how I felt about watching this episode, friends. Not ready, but no choice. The camera pans to show that the boys are at the 43rd Annual Akron Pie Fest. In Akron, Iowa? Just north of Sioux City? Five hour drive? Say hi to Jody and the girls while you're there? Probably not. Probably in Akron, Ohio, almost 16 hours away.

(NO ONE CARES. STOP IT.)

Give me a break. This might be the last time I ever get to calculate driving time.

Anyway. Just pies! Nothing serious! Whew, I was concerned for a second. Dean is emotional.

This is just so beautiful.

Are you crying?

What? No. You're crying, I'm not.

No one is crying. There is no reason for ANYONE to cry.

Sam sits on a bench and watches happy pie eating families (sob). Dean returns with a giant box with six slices of pie (16 points). He sits next to Sam, and they have this conversation:

What's wrong?

Nothing. I'm fine.

Nah, come on, I know that face. That's Sad!Sam face.

I'm not Sad!Sam. I just. I'm thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here.

Yeah, I know, I think about them too. You know what, that pain's not gonna go away, right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is going to be for nothing.

Dean's right, Sam. Do not be sad. We will have no Sad!Sam tonight. Live your life, or else those sacrifices are wasted. (ahem.) Sam responds by pushing a slice of pumpkin pie into Dean's face. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time," he laughs. "You're right, I do feel better!" Dean scraping the pie off his face and eating it is pretty adorable.

I'd pay good money to lick that off his face. And not just because I love pumpkin pie.

Not quite 6 minutes in and we're up to at least 16 guaranteed bits of pure fan service. Just sweet, domestic Winchester brothers living their lives. How long has this been going on? I've decided it's been at least a year since the last episode. Maybe longer. A good long time. Lots of time for them to enjoy their newfound freedom. But right now things are getting dark. Because it's nighttime, and because I think somebody's about to die.

A mom sends two young brothers upstairs for bathtime. They pause when the doorbell rings. No one seems to be there, but then the dad is stabbed by people wearing creepy masks. The boys run into their room and hide. From their room, we hear the mom scream, and then a thump. One of the masked guys comes into the room and, after a fake-out when we think they might be safe, drags the boys out from under the bed.

So, domestic life in the bunker and then a hunt? Wow. We're getting it all. What a great episode, full of the things we love.

Is this Becky Rosen's living room?

Daytime. Agents Kripke and Singer (ugh, really? Kripke is good, but how about honoring someone other than the current regime?) show up at the scene. They learn that the dad's blood was drained, the mom is alive but her tongue was ripped out (wow), and the kids were taken. The mom drew a picture of the masks they wore, which the brothers recognize.

In a lovely, picturesque spot, the guys flip through John's journal. And I didn't realize we hadn't seen the journal in a while, but Tumblr informs me many of us were exicted to see it again, so boom. 17 points.

You know what this is? Mimes. Evil mimes.

Yeah. Or vampires.

VampMIMES. Son of a bitch!

Dean comes up with a silly portmanteau name for a monster? That will be 18 points. Sam determines the vamps will be heading for Canton if they follow their pattern, and the victims are families who live on the outskirts of town with children between the ages of five and ten. Well, that couldn't be too difficult to narrow down in a city with a population of over 70,000.

I'll handwave it. The lip biting. You’re welcome.

Night. Canton, I presume. Two masked vamps get out of a van. One of them gets decapitated by Dean. The other is shot in the leg, and then the head, by Sam. Well, he's a vampire, so of course it didn't kill him, but the bullet was soaked in dead man's blood. {Sidebar: "Soaked?" Dipped, maybe, but do you soak metal? Discuss.} They ask where the missing kids are, and the vamp is all, you're gonna let me go if I tell you? "No," Dean explains, adorably disappointed that the vamp isn't a mime after all. "This isn't a you walk out of here kind of situation. But see, if you tell us quick, you get this." He displays his bloody machete. "But if you take your time, you get, you get that." And "that" is a switchblade which Sam casually pops open right on cue.

Yeah, I'll take that. I'll take that itty bitty one.

It's a bad choice.

You see, this, this is quick. It's clean, you know? No muss, no fuss. You blink and you're dead.

But a blade this small, I'm gonna have to keep sawing and sawing to get your head off. And you'll feel it. Every muscle, tendon. Every inch. Could take hours.

Oh, and if those kids are dead? He's gonna use a spoon.

GUYS. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I absolutely love when they remind us that Sam Winchester, that sweet boy with the huge heart and the endless supply of empathy and the puppy dog eyes, I love it when they remind us that he is a fucking psycho when he needs to be. I'm not going to give it a point, because I don't think it's anything we've asked for, but again I'm willing to hear all arguments. Especially if they come with detailed examples of Sam going psycho. Just for evidence, you know.

Just casually talkin' bout torturing you to death. No big.

The vampire wisely decides to reveal the location of the nest where the kids are being held. Next we see the Impala pulling up in front of some kind of barn. The guys open the trunk to get their gear out, and Dean pulls out a throwing star. "Come on. One time." Sam says no. There will be plenty of other times for Dean to use his throwing stars, I'm sure.

The guys enter the barn and find it apparently empty, although we see masked vamps peeking at them from outside. They find the kids locked in a closet, but four vampires appear before they can escape. They shoo the boys outside and shoot the vampires with their dead man's blood bullets from a safe distance. No, they don't. Why? I got no goddamn idea.

{Sidebar: At some point during this fight, I realized they hadn't played "Carry On Wayward Son" at the beginning. And that we got a regular montage, not a season finale extended montage.}

Sam gets knocked unconscious, and Dean loses his machete and then gets pinned by a couple of vamps. But they don't kill him; they just hold him down while an unmasked vampire strolls in. Dean recognizes her from season 1, and pretends not to notice Sam's now-conscious hand surreptitiously creeping toward his machete. Suddenly the vampire loses her head, because Sam is behind her, and the fight starts up again. Dean gets thrown into a wall right next to a big metal spike, which we focus on oddly. And then he gets thrown onto the spike. Oops. Sam kills the last of the vamps and doesn't notice Dean's predicament. He's all, cool, fight's over, let's go get those kids out of here. "Sam," Dean says, "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Dean tells Sam there's something stuck in his back and it "feels like it's right through me." He keeps touching his chest as if he expects to feel it poking through. Sam reaches around to touch his back and his hand comes back bloody, and if that gives you All Hell Breaks Loose feels, there's a good reason. Sam tries to pull Dean off the spike, but Dean stops him. "It feels like this thing's holding me together right now." Sam's starting to panic and so am I. He wants to go get the first aid kid and call for help, but Dean stops him. And y'all, I'm just gonna have to type the whole thing out.

Sam, Sam. Stay with me. Please, stay with me, please.

Okay. Yeah.

Okay. Okay. Uh. Right. All right, listen to me. Um. You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, all right?

Dean? WE are gonna get them somewhere safe.

No. You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things, it's what we do.

Stop, Dean, just stop

It's okay. It's okay. it's good. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man.

I will find away, okay? I will find another way.

No. No. No, no no no no. No bringing me back, okay? You know that always ends bad.

Dean, please.

I'm fading pretty quick, so, there's a few things I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Remember when we were kids, you were so damn smart. You never took any of Dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been. Hey, did I ever tell you, that night that I came for you when you were in school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip?

Uh, the woman in white.

The woman in white, that's right. I must have stood outside your door for hours, cause I didn't know what you would say. I thought you'd tell me to get lost, or get dead. And I didn't know what I would have done if I didn't have you. Cause I was so scared. I was scared. Cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It's always been you and me.

Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.

Yes you can.

Well, I don't want to.

Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you. Right here. Every day. Every day you're out there, and you're living, and you're fighting, cause you, you always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there, every step. I love you so much. My baby brother. Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is, it is, and that's okay. I need you, I need you to promise me. I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me it's okay. Look at me. I need. I need. I need you to tell me it's okay. Tell me it's okay.

Dean. It's okay. You can go now.

Bye, Sam.

NO, IT IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF OKAY.

And of course I haven't described Sam's face as he understands what's happening, Dean's occasional spasms of pain, the handholding, the fucking FOREHEAD TOUCH, the tears, the way Dean's hand drops away, the way Sam's hands shake as he clutches his dead brother (hello, AHBL again).

Maybe we just need to watch it.

Gifs borrowed from @jaredandjensen​.

And there's also the Always Keep Fighting shoutout, the "I love you," Dean calling Sam his "baby brother," the "I can't do this alone/Yes you can/Well I don't want to" parallel with 1.01. Infinite points, friends. I can't count that high.

(Things not to think about: Sam putting Dean's body in the back seat, and then putting the two young brothers in the front and driving them to safety. Sam driving 15 hours back to Lebanon with his brother's body. Do not think about these things.)

Aftermath. Sam and Miracle, and no one else, are giving Dean a hunter's funeral. And I know Covid means Sam couldn't have any friends there, but also? This is kind of perfect. Sam facing it alone. The song we hear as Sam lights his brother's pyre is "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits, in case you're not emotionally wrecked yet.

Yeah, I'm already there, thanks anyway.

Next we see Sam's slightly more modern alarm going off at 8:00. Note that Sam gets up later now, because at the beginning of the episode, he had already gone for a run and was cooking breakfast when Dean woke at 8:00. But now there's no one to cook for so he doesn't need to get back early and I AM NOT OKAY.

ANYWAY.

Sam gets up and faces his lonely day. He cooks eggs. One piece of toast pops up. He sits in the library with Miracle and looks at the names carved into the table. He wanders the halls with his dog at his side. (SAM HAVING A DOG WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE HIM HAPPY. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE US HAPPY. HOW DARE YOU.)

{Sidebar: Has Sam ever had a dog when he wasn't at a low point in his already-low life? Discuss.}

Eventually he finds himself at the door to Dean's room. The room is just as Dean left it, kind of messy, kind of very full of Dean. He sits on Dean's bed and pets the dog and cries and it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that I am ROLLING AROUND IN ALL OF THIS BEAUTIFUL PAIN.

No one at all.

@annianvi thinks he’s wearing Dean’s hoodie when he cooks his sad lonely breakfast? Could it be?

Sam hears a phone buzzing in Dean's desk. He digs out the one labeled "Dean's other other phone" and answers. The caller asks for "Agent Bon Jovi" and says he's had some bodies turn up without hearts in Austin. "A friend of mine, Donna Hanscum, said you were the one to call." Oooh, are we sending him to Austin? Is Walker, Texas Ranger just going to be another fake name and fake badge? Now that's how you do a spinoff!

{Sidebar: Does Donna know about Dean? Did Sam tell anyone yet? Is the trying to get him out of the bunker and keep him busy? If so, wouldn't she have given the guy Sam's number, not Dean's other other phone? But maybe it's someone she talked to weeks ago. Discuss.}

Sam tells the caller he is on his way, and we see him with a packed bag, heading out of the bunker with Miracle. He turns to look one last time and then turns off all the lights. We haven't seen the bunker this dark since the day they found it. I don't think he's ever coming back. Goodbye, bunker. I know some people hated you, but I was not one of them. {Sidebar: Did he give the bunker key to anyone? Surely he wouldn't want all those resources to go to waste!}

So, I guess the episode title refers to Sam having (choosing?) to carry on after he loses his brother. THIS IS FINE.

Now we're back at Dean's pyre, and this time we drift up with the smoke. We catch up with Dean, outdoors, in a lovely setting with trees and birds. "Well, at least I made it to Heaven," he says. "Yep," someone answers. It's Bobby! Real Bobby, not AU Bobby! Dean's actually standing next to a building - a cabin, maybe - and Bobby is sitting on the porch.

What memory is this?

It ain't, ya idjit.

Yeah it is. Cause the last I heard, you, you were in in Heaven's lockup.

Was. Now I'm not. That kid of yours, before he went wherever, made some changes here. Busted my ass out. And then he, well, set some things right. Tore down all the walls. Heaven ain't just reliving your golden oldies any more. It's what it always should have been. Everyone happy, everyone together. Rufus lives about five miles that way. With Aretha. Thought she'd have better taste. And your mom and dad, they got a place over yonder. It ain't just Heaven, Dean. It's the Heaven you deserve. And we been waiting for you.

So Jack did all that.

Well, Cas helped. It's a big new world out there. You'll see.

So, I guess Cas made it out of the Empty? Dean smiles at that, but doesn't suggest finding him or anything. I approve. Bobby pulls out a couple of beers (the green cooler made it into Heaven!!!) and they share some bad beer. Dean comments that Heaven is "almost perfect," and Bobby knows EXACTLY what's missing, because of course he does. "He'll be along. Time up here, it's different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?" Well, Dean doesn't have everything he could ever want or need, but he does see one thing - Baby. With her Kansas plates! Friends, that's two things I requested before the end that I didn't think I would ever see: a forehead touch, and Baby wearing her original plates. Thank you, Jack.

Dean's face lights up. "I think I'll go for a drive." As he walks to his car, we see the cabin is actually Harvelle's Roadhouse, albeit smaller, I think. Dean settles into his car and says "Hey, Baby" and when he turns her on, "Carry On Wayward Son" begins to play.

I know he looks good in Purgatory, but DAMN if he don't look fine in Heaven, too.

We cut to the name Dean, which is embroidered on - a little boy's overalls. Sam's little boy. Oh, wow. I was not prepared for this. Sam has a son named Dean, and we switch back and forth between Dean driving through Heaven and scenes of Sam's life with his son and his mysterious, barely-seen wife. She has long dark hair, and I'd like to point out that she could easily be either Eileen or Dr. Cara Roberts. Just saying. Sam's house is full of family photos, including the one of him and Dean from his memory box and a new one from the episode Lebanon. I never thought about the fact that they might have actually taken a photo, and if they did, would it still be around after Sam smashed the pearl? Well, obviously, yes. We see Sam throwing a ball with his son, helping him with his homework (Sam in glasses? Check!) and just obviously really loving this kid and giving him the childhood he never had. We also see a really, really unfortunate grey wig that I refuse to screencap. You're welcome. As aging Sam sits in the hundred-year-old car in his garage, his dead brother drives happily along dirt roads in Heaven, and I'd prefer my Heaven have paved roads, thanks.

We end in Sam's house, now complete with hospital bed. Sam could be in his 80s or even 90s, which means he could have lived another 50 years, more or less, after Dean died. His son doesn't look any older than his 20s or 30s (and also looks vaguely South Asian to me), and I wonder how old Sam was when he finally let himself have a family. Remember when Dean said his happy ending was for Sam to have kids and get old? Well, he got it, finally. Did Sam get a regular job? Did he keep hunting? We don't know. What we do know is that his son has a anti-possession tattoo. Some people have taken this to mean young Dean is a hunter, but I don't think we can jump to that conclusion. It could just be 1) Dean wanted a tattoo like his father's, or b) Sam knows there are still demons out there and that his son would naturally be a target, hunter or not.

All right, I had to screencap teary-eyed Sam grasping the steering wheel and reliving his years with his brother in this car, so we can just pretend we don't see The Wig, okay?

Sam's evidently in hospice care. Or maybe we'll all have hospital beds in our houses in 50 years. Who knows. His son sits on the bed and takes his hand. Sam smiles at him, and Dean says "Dad, it's okay. You can go now." PARALLELLS! As some woman sings "Carry On Wayward Son" for whatever reason (why didn't they use the lovely a cappella version they already had from Fan Fiction?), Sam places his hand on Dean's and takes his last breath.

{Sidebar: Where is Sam's wife in all of this? Divorced? Already dead? She doesn't seem to be in the family pictures, so I'm going with divorced. Discuss.}

Heaven. Oh, guys. I've done this rewatch without tearing up at all but I'm about to tip over. The Impala pulls onto a bridge. Dean gets out. (Now your life's no longer empty, surely Heaven waits for you.) He stands at the bridge railing, enjoying Heaven, smiling. And then he feels something and he smiles even more because he knows it's Sam. Oh god, Jensen did such a good job here. Just this fucking smile killed me dead. "Hey, Sammy," he says. He turns and there is Sam, wearing the same outfit he wore in 1.01 (they both are, but Sam's is a bigger departure from his later years). Why? I don't know. But I know it means Sam Winchester is spending eternity in something that isn't a plaid shirt. How do we feel about that?

"Dean," Sam says. They face each other and smile, and it's the smile of we just survived a hunt I didn't think we'd survive or our son just overpowered God or something along those lines. Then they embrace, and I love the way Sam hesitates just a little before clapping a hand on Dean's back. Like he's afraid it isn't really happening, and he doesn't want to break the illusion. I also love that Dean, as always, takes the top (oh, get your minds out of the gutter) and hugs as if he were taller than Sam. Then Dean puts his hand on the back of Sam's neck and turns him to admire the view and he has this joyous smile like now, this is FINALLY Heaven. And he gazes at Sam like look, Sammy, look what we did. Look what we get. The lack of dialog in this scene is just ~chef's kiss~. The camera goes wide and we see the three main characters, Sam and Dean and Baby, enjoying the Heaven they deserve.

I would like to know where they filmed this, because it's gorgeous even without the Winchesters.

Did Sam's entire life go by in the span of Dean's drive? Or did Dean just decide he'd drive until his brother arrived, no matter how long it took? And how much do I love the fact that he could have gone and visited his parents but instead he said "nah, I'll drive around and wait for Sam?" SO MUCH, PEOPLE. SO MUCH.

Also, can we talk about the fact that Sam didn't know what to expect in Heaven? I mean, Ash said they were soulmates and would share a Heaven, but why would he believe that? And he might have even still believed he'd have a hard time getting into Heaven. What a relief it must have been to show up on Dean's bridge.

And then Jared and Jensen thank us. You're welcome, boys. Thank you.

So. Thursday night I was mildly positive about the episode. But on rewatch, I'm extremely positive. Sure, I would have loved the Six Feet Under ending where we see everyone's fate. And maybe that would have happened if not for Covid. But I'm just relieved we didn't get the Game of Thrones or How I Met Your Mother endings. I'm not sure this current cohort could have done better, honestly. Sam wanted a normal family life. Dean wanted Sam to have a normal family life. But Sam was never going to stop hunting as long as Dean was hunting. And Dean wasn't going to stop hunting as long as he was alive. Dean got the end he wanted/expected and the Heaven he earned (and Sam caring for Jack was directly responsible for Heaven's improvements). Sam got to live a normal life and have a family. As I said earlier, I suspect his marriage didn't last. (Or maybe he and Eileen or Cara got married for insurance purposes, and happily co-parented little Dean, but knew they weren't each other's one true love.) But I actually prefer that. Dean loved Sam more than he loved anyone. Sam loved Dean the same way. I'm glad Sam got to have a child (who he loves as much as his brother, but in a different way), but I don't want Sam and Dean to share their Heaven with Sam's wife.

Now, would I have done Dean's death differently? Yes. I did appreciate that they had him upright, so the brothers were face to face, just like AHBL. But being impaled on a spike was just less dramatic that I would have liked. I would have preferred that Sam immediately see his brother was dying, instead of Dean having to explain it to him. Dean could have had his jugular torn, slowly bleeding out, and still been on his knees (held up by Sam, hell yes) making his deathbed speech. And then I wouldn't have thought "would an ambulance be here by now if you'd called them?" halfway through it.

{Sidebar: What if Sam had fed Dean some blood from one of the dead vamps. Wouldn't that have kept him undead long enough to get fixed up, and then they could have done the vampire cure? Discuss.}

I know some people are very unhappy about the finale. Honestly, from what I can tell, most of those people are hard-core Destiel shippers. And I guess they wanted, as they always do, for the Dean and Castiel relationship to be more important than the Dean and Sam relationship. Sorry, guys, that was never gonna happen. In the end, it came down to the epic love story of Sam and Dean, just as it should have.

So, I'm sad and I'm happy. I'm bereft and I'm full. I miss my boys, but my boys will always be with me. I hope you guys will be with me for a long time, too.

[wordsfromthesol]

Just A Facade (2/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Taglist: @zphilophobiaz  @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial​ @somnibats Summary:  Dick is very confused that his brothers seem to all be getting along with you, and worse…wanting to help you. And wait…were you dating his brother?! Warnings:  Violence, cursing, violence...more violence  Word Count: 2.0k

You woke up in one of Jason’s t-shirts, in his old room, very confused. As you moved to get up the pain racing up your side jogged your memory. “Shit, Jason’s gunna be so pissed at me.”

“You could say that again!” You heard his voice coming from the bathroom.

You slowly made your way to the bathroom and leaned against the door frame. “It’s not like I meant to get shot Jay.”

“Yeah, well, you could have told my idiot brother when it happened.” He stepped towards you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Or even ME when you got to the cave.”

“I thought I could handle it…why was your brother there in the first place?” The question came out a little more accusatory than you meant. Jason took a step back and threw his hands in the air.

“Because, apparently, you tried to kill him last week.”

“He’s still on that? Ugh, I pulled my punches as much as I could without being glaringly obvious. Next time he shouldn’t be in the way of the actual target.”

“Maybe you should just tell him.”

“Why? He doesn’t need my life story.”

“Y/N/N…”

“Oh you’re one to talk mister come back from the dead and don’t tell anyone.”

“You didn’t even know me before I died!”

“So! I know you didn’t tell your brothers!”

“I know you’re doing this to distract me, and it’s working, but you need to tell him. He won’t trust you, and it will end up getting someone hurt on this case. And if that someone is you –” Jason’s voice trailed off.  

It was your turn to throw up your hands in exasperation. Unfortunately, you had forgotten about your recent injuries. “Agh!” You grimaced as your hand went to your side.

“See, that’s a sign that you’re being too stubborn.” Jason smirked before pressing a kiss to your lips and lifting you up. He carried you until you got to the cave, where he gently set you down, allowing you to still use him as a crutch.

**

“Y/N!” Tim exclaimed at the sight of you, “I’ve found something!” He waited for you and Jason to arrive at his side before he continued. “So, they made a mistake coming after you.”

“How do you know that was related? A lot of people want me dead…”

“Well, I didn’t at first. But then, looking through your pictures…the ones you didn’t originally give us,” Tim shot a judgmental stare your way.

“Oh you would’ve done the same thing.”

“WELL, one of them caught the van…long story short I was able to trace it back here,” Tim points at the screen, “once they left your apartment.”

“Alright, I’ll do some recon then. Come on blue bird.” You gestured to Dick.

“It’s Nightwing – wait you want me to come?”

“Well I know I’m not going to be let out of here alone, so I’d rather just hitch a ride than have one of you bozos follow me.”

“She’s not wrong.” Jason stated plainly as he tossed you a bottle of pills, “Take one before you leave, and please don’t rip my stitches.”

“I’ll try my hardest.”

**

The two of you sat in silence on the rooftop for nearly an hour. Finally, Dick couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Alright, you gunna try and kill me again, or what?” He finally blurted out, still trying to figure out why you requested him as your back-up.

“What? I never tried to kill you, calm your feathers.”

“Last week!”

“I had to make it look real…I wasn’t alone.”

“Yeah, I noticed that…”

“I know you don’t agree with my life choices Nightwing, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“It may not be easy, but you can get out.” Dick made the comment as if it was from personal experience.

“No.” Your voice turned somber, “I can’t. My parents decided to pay for their freedom with mine. If I leave…they’ll just take my sister. There is no out for me.” Your eyes focused on the building below, not daring to face him.

“Sister?” Dick was quickly realizing how little he actually knew about you.

“Heh, yeah. I doubt she even remembers she has one. I got her out, found her a family. She was only four…I haven’t seen her since.”

“Huh, that’s why you actually dropped the act for a minute when you presented this case. I thought you were hiding something.”

“I was. My past.”

“How old were you?”

“Six.”

Silence rang through the night, as the two of you watched the building. Taking photos and notes of all the ins and outs. Finally, the two of you decided it was time to leave. Just as you pulled into the cave, Dick asked one more question…or tried to.

“Are you and Jason…”

“I’m going to let you talk to your brother about that one.” You interrupted his thought before scurrying out the door.

**

“Well, what did you find?” Tim eagerly awaited for another piece of the puzzle to fall into place.

“Didn’t see any kids, but there were definitely too many guards for a store called ‘Windows, Doors, and More’. Even if it is in Gotham.”

“So we check it out in the tomorrow during the day. By we, I obviously don’t mean you Y/N/N.”

“Yeah yeah Jay, I gathered.” The sarcasm dripped off your response.

“While we’re on that subject…” Now Tim and Damian had turned their attention to you as well. “We think you need a suit. A secret identity. These people found you too easily.”

You chuckled at the mere thought, “Yeah okay. I don’t have any family, there’s no point.” You didn’t notice the sorrow fill Jason’s eyes at your apathetic words.

“Fine, if you won’t do it for me then how about your sister. Just because she doesn’t know about you doesn’t mean others don’t.” Jason’s frustration was apparent.

Before you could comprehend the words, your fist collided with Jason’s jaw. Immediately, you stepped back. Your hands shaking.

“Hit me all you –” Before Jason could finish your hands cupped his face.

“No no no” you whispered more to yourself than him. A tear fell from your eye as your mind finally caught up. “Jay, I’m so sorry.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, then another, and another before enveloping him in a hug. “You’re right. I need to protect her. Protect you.” A faint smile grazed his lips and he pulled you from his chest, keeping his hands resting on your shoulders. The silence seemed to go on forever, until Damian couldn’t take it anymore.

“Finally! Now come see the suit we had designed for you.” It was the first time you had ever heard Damian Wayne excited for something.

You gave Jason a smirk, “You already had it made?”

“For almost a year now.”

“So you guys are together, right?!” You heard Dick’s confused voice bellow in the background. No one answered him.

**

The next day came and went and a plan was made. Your role was made minimal, and by minimal you meant being forced to sit as the look out on the rooftop across the street. Though you understood, you still couldn’t sit back and watch everything go down. You waited until you heard clear fighting happening in the warehouse when you made your way to the roof. Timing the break-in with a gunshot, you crashed through a second story window and made your way to a locked back room.

The five of you had narrowed the location of the children down to this room. It was the only thing that made sense, and you were determined to get these kids out. The lock was easy to pick, however, you were not expecting someone on the other side. Someone who knew exactly who you were, despite your newfound disguise.

“Oh look who saved me the trouble. I think I owe you another bullet for the number your friend did on my face.”

“Ya’know, he’s right outside…why don’t you just go pay it back now.”

“Somehow I think hurting you will do just that. But don’t worry, he’ll get his turn to.” As you pulled the gun holstered at your side the man delivered a swift jab to your injured side. The gun fell to the floor and you charged at him, dropping to the ground just before making contact and sweeping his legs from under him. He collapsed to the floor and you jumped on top of him, putting as much force as you could against his neck with your arm. As you felt your grip loosening you threw back your head and crashed in into his. You felt him go limp under your weight.

“Where the fuck are the kids.” You mumbled to yourself. You begin searching for a hidden panel or room. As you heard gunshots barrel through the warehouse, you looked down and noticed a locked hatch. Making quick work of the lock, you pulled the hatch open and were met with eight terrified eyes staring up at you.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” You reached your hand down, offering it to one of the children. After what seemed like hours, a brave soul took it in theirs. Thankfully, the others quickly followed. You soon realized you couldn’t get them out the same way you came in.

“Shit, alright guys. I need you to cover your ears.” You placed your hands over your ears as a demonstration before you set a small charge at the far wall. “Once this goes off you run through the opening and wait in the alley behind the next building. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.” As the children nodded you set off the detonation, grabbed your gun, and positioned yourself between them and the door. You knew the noise would draw attention.

A man soon rounded the corner, only half the kids were out. You shot directly through his knee cap. He wasn’t alone. Upon hearing the shot, the second assailant somersaulted directly into your feet. You stumbled backwards, forcing the last child out of the opening. Your momentary loss of focus allowed the man to push you into the wall. He held one hand around your neck and the other around your wrist. He continued to slam your wrist into the wall until you were forced to drop the gun. You quickly latched your legs around his waist and jabbed your free arm into his side. His stumbled backwards, loosening his grip as he stumbled to stay upright with the additional weight. You pulled your other wrist from his grasp and launched it at his jaw. You heard a crack as your fist made contact. The hand at your neck flew towards his own jaw. As he was off guard, you fell into him, forcing him to fall backwards onto the ground. Just as you stumbled to get up, Jason raced into the room.

“This was not the plan!”

You smirked, “But it worked. Kids are in the next alley. Be a good birdie and go get them Nightwing.” Dick rolled his eyes but complied. Without a word, Damian and Tim joined him. Jason’s eyes trailed towards your neck, which was already starting to change color. Before he could berate you, you continued, your voice heavy. “They were kids Jay. They deserved a life. They deserved a choice.”

Jason pulled you into his chest, “They did, but now we have no one to question. There’s no way these idiots were the masterminds.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

[thewildwaffle]

The Prisoner - Part 3

Look who finally worked through some writer’s block on this story!

Part 1      Part 2      Part 4

The human that Garn assumed must be Embry hurried in a while after the ship was somewhat stabilized. She froze in place when she entered and saw Garn. He noticed how her grip tightened on the kit she carried, as well as how her eyes darted around the room as if looking for either a weapon or escape route. “It’s okay,” human Kaya had to speak up loudly to be heard over the ship’s straining engines. “He was traveling with Porter.” Embry nodded and approached Porter while still keeping a close eye on Garn. Garn watched her closely as she attended to his human friend. The realization that they had survived the ordeal at the Tupiti Port was starting to rise up inside him, and the excitement of his newfound escape and freedom was starting to return to Garn. Not only was he free of the Syndicate, he was completely off-planet, flying away from Karbrin on a ship that had not one, not two, but THREE humans aboard! Human Embry was working quickly and nearly had finished bandaging up Porter’s leg. As she leaned back to examine her work, Garn noticed she had a small metal device curled around her left ear. He wanted to ask about it, but before he did, Porter groaned and tried to pull himself back up into a sitting position. The human Embry pushed him back down, and to Garn’s shock, slapped him in the face. Garn’s fur prickled in shock and he jumped to his feet to defend his friend. Human Kaya was at his side in an instant, holding an arm out in front of him as if she would stop him should he try anything. Garn stepped forward, ready to push his way through to stop the smaller human female from again striking his friend. He towered a full head and shoulders over the humans after all. He didn’t get another step though. He looked down. The human Kaya had grabbed him and was now holding him back. “Don’t try it, dantum,” the human warned in a voice that sent ice burning through him. He stopped a growl in his throat from building when he looked into her dark brown eyes. He nearly got lost in them. They were the most commanding eyes he had ever seen, even among the Syndicate. Their depth, as well as the worn wrinkles of the skin around her eyes, silenced any protests that had sprung up in him. He stepped back resignedly, noting only now that the arm she had stopped him with was… odd. The dark brown of it did not match the rest of her skin. After focusing on it a little better, he noticed the seams and divots that ran across what was not flesh, but metal and silicone.

As he stepped back, the humans relaxed slightly, except Porter, who had been distracted by nursing his now pink cheek. “Ow, Embry! What in gadring was that for?” “You know exactly what that was for,” the human medic snapped. “You lied to me. You were supposed to be on a simple parts run, and instead, you go off to who knows where and end up entangling us all with the dang Trinn-Har’rup Syndicate because we have to come save your butt! What were you thinking?!” “I didn’t lie. I got the parts,” Porter propped himself up on his arms without completely sitting up. “Or well, most of them. I actually had a few confiscated by the Nebbilins when they caught me. But I found a few goodies at the market on Karbrin!” Porter looked around for a bit before frowning. “Where’s my bag?” “Your bag?” Embry looked around as well. “Yeah, my bag? You know, the one that had all the parts in it? The one I always take with me? That bag!?” He looked to Garn. “Garn, please tell me you saw my bag. I must have dropped it. Did you grab it?” “I didn’t notice you had dropped it,” Garn apologized. “We were kind of running for our lives so I just picked you up and got you on the ship.” “Ugh,” Porter groaned and flopped onto his back. “Noooooo. The parts. My bag. I really liked that bag.” He immediately tried to get up as if to look for it himself, but Embry pushed him back down. “Oh no you don’t. You stay down, doctor’s orders,” Embry scolded. “Since when were you a doctor?” Embry pressed a finger onto the wound on Porter’s leg. “Ah, ah ah ah! Okay, sorry. I’ll stay down!” Garn frowned. The humans did not seem very nice to him at all. Why had Porter called them? Slowly, so as to not alarm the human Kaya again, he inched his way to Porter’s side. What more could he do though? He felt that if he showed too much aggression, he’d do more harm than good and likely get thrown in whatever brig this ship had. And that was likely the best-case scenario. He felt a bit like a prisoner even now though. The ship jerked violently to one side and everyone scrambled to find something to grab on to. Both Garn and Embry reached a hand out to Porter to steady him when he nearly rolled off the bench he was laying on. “Tig!” Kaya shouted, “What’s going on up there?” The only answer was another sharp turn of the ship in the opposite direction. “That kloxan’s gonna get us all killed,” Kaya muttered under her breath as she hauled herself across the room and out the door. “What’s going on?” Garn wasn’t sure if the sound of growling was coming from him or from the ship. This was all a mistake. This whole day was just one life-threatening event after another. All because he decided to open his mouth and get involved with a human prisoner. This is why all those outlandish warning stories about humans are shared late at night in the barracks. Humans are dangerous and their presence alone can bring chaos and peril. They were whispered to be threats that required immediate attention if you hoped to survive their antics. If the Syndicate knew of the stories that circulated and seemed to grow more outlandish among their guards, they didn’t ever see it fit to discredit them. Perhaps it was to make sure they kept a healthy amount of fear and caution when dealing with the deadly aliens. Or perhaps it was some sort of scare tactic, let the guards know the rest of the galaxy was a dangerous place filled with scary humans and the likes. Then they keep their guards from leaving their employment and going rogue. Like he had. Maybe that was it. And maybe they had been right to do so. Garn could hear yelling from where human Kaya had disappeared from. He shared a look with the other two humans with him. “What did she say?” Embry nearly yelled. Garn shook his head. He wasn’t sure. He strained his ears to try to pick out what was actually being said when a loud alarm trumpeted all around them. Embry screamed and covered her ears. Garn nearly jumped out of his fur but crouched low to cover both her and Porter, on the lookout for some sort of unseen attacker. He noticed vaguely when Embry pressed the side of her head into his fur as if trying to help muffle the loud sound while she fiddled with the gray device he had seen her wearing earlier. After a moment, she sighed in relief and seemed to loosen her tense muscles ever so slightly. “Hold on to something tight,” she commanded. “Don’t let Porter slide around either.” Garn obediently followed directions, only questioning why he was doing so after he had braced himself and the two humans. His unasked question was answered quickly as the ship seemed to lurch forward and all of Garn like he’d fallen off a cliff left all his internal organs behind. There was a terrible, almost musical creak or groan from the ship around them and suddenly he felt like a strong weight was pushing against him. It was crushing and for a moment, he had to remind himself to breathe. Thankfully, the sensation lasted only a few moments and with another lurch, it was over. Garn caught himself before he completely fell forward onto Embry. All three of them sat there, breathing heavily as they tried to compose themselves. At least now the ship seemed to have steadied itself again. “What… what was that?” Garn panted. He was only now starting to feel normal again, though a bit jostled. As he relaxed his right arm where he’d been holding on to a bar to steady himself, he realized he had bent the metal to his grip. It was slight enough that he hoped no one would notice. Porter groaned, “Oh frinz, that was a rough jump.” Embry reached for the device around her left ear again. “Say again?” “I just… ugh,” Porter winced as he shifted his leg to a more comfortable position. “I just said that was a rough jump.” “But what was that?” Garn asked again. “Hyperspace jump,” Human Kaya appeared suddenly from the doorway she had left through. “Bit of nasty travel, not great for the ship so we try to avoid it. But with our warp drive down and a couple goons on our tail, it gets the job done.” She smiled as she leaned against the door frame. “We’ve jumped just behind Karbrir’s second moon. We’ll hide out here until the coast is clear.” “You could have warned me before we jumped,” Embry complained, rubbing at her ears again. “You know the alarm hurts when it’s on normal settings.” Kaya frowned and straightened back up. “I yelled back to let you know, did you not hear me?” Embry shook her head. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I… I thought for sure you could hear me. I couldn’t leave the helm, I had to help Tig. I’m sorry that was so loud. Are you okay?” Embry nodded. “It’s fine now. I heard you yell something, but I couldn’t make it out. I think I was more surprised than anything.” Garn watched the two humans. It was clear to him that the older female was in charge on the ship. And yet her care towards her subordinate extended beyond remaining functional and duty-ready. She sounded genuinely concerned. And an apology? That was unheard of to Garn. Or at least, an apology not coming from the subordinate to the squad leader. And even then, back with the Syndicate ranks, apologies were harsh and not always received well. They were an excuse for weaknesses and failings after all. Part of him bristled with disdain and confusion upon hearing the apology, almost as an automatic reflex. But another part of him was rapt with curious confusion and awe as he watched the exchange. This human leader, who had been able to stop him in his tracks earlier with just one arm, was… apologizing? He felt himself a little jealous of Embry and Porter. Was this level of care part of the bonding that humans were so famous for? Behind Kaya, a robotic figure appeared in the doorway. “Captain,” the kloxan’s vocal synthesizers hummed cheerfully, “we’ve stabilized orbit around the moon. I request permission to begin repairs on the warp drive.” Everyone stared at the robot, Garn included. “That would be great, Tig, but we still don’t have the right parts,” Kaya looked back at Porter, though not with as much of an accusatory glare as Garn would have expected from his own supervisors if he’d been in a similar situation back home. “It appears we left Porter’s bag behind at the Tupiti spaceport.” “Yes,” replied Tig with an amused current in his tone as he held up a familiar-looking bag. “I thought it looked familiar. I believe I have what I need to fix the warp drive and replace at least a few hose casings in the cooling system.” “My bag!” Porter yelled happily and jumped to his feet as if he was going to go hug Tig. He made it almost two steps until he stepped on his bad leg and nearly collapsed. Garn caught him and helped him sit back down on the bench. Embry tutted and shook her head as she double-checked his bandages to make sure he hadn’t messed up her handiwork. Tig continued after a pause, “I do regret to inform you that I appear to be missing a few springs and the new navigation chip I had requested. If you had managed to procure them, Porter, it may be possible that they fell out and were lost during the confrontation on the planet.” “Yeah, it’s okay. The springs are probably the easiest to find,” Porter sighed, but his smile grew back bright as ever, “I’m just glad you saw it! I thought I’d lost it forever! It took a lot of work to break that bag in the way I like it, you know!” Kaya interjected with a nod. “Tig, go ahead and get the warp drive fixed. Though, it won’t be overly helpful until we’ve got the nav computer fixed. We’ll just have to continue with our workaround until we can get it updated. Will that be alright?” “Of course, Captain,” Tig nodded and turned to get started on the repairs. As he did so, Garn noticed the weapon slung over the robot’s shoulders. His heart froze. “Hey, Tig!” Porter called out from his bench, “Nice gun! Is it new?” Tig paused and looked back and held the gun in question carefully out in display. “I found this on the ground not too far from your bag. I have never seen one like it and wanted to see if I can reverse-engineer one like it for myself.” “You should have just tossed it,” Garn’s voice was shaky and gruff. Everyone turned to him as he said it. He knew that gun. It was the same one he’d looked down the barrel of back in the Tupiti spaceport. “It’s the Aruptet Cannon. It belongs to the Syndicate’s favorite assassin, Kriym Sarupto Maika. Hunting us was just a job for her then. Now she’ll hunt us because it’s personal. She designed and built that gun herself.” Porter frowned, “Wait, you mean to tell me that was a kriym that I punched back there? I didn’t know they worked with the Trinn-Harrups too.” He paused and gave a small smirk. “I thought they’d be bigger from all the stories about them.” Garn ignored that last part. “They don’t, or at least I don’t think so. They’re not like dantums. I’ve only ever seen or heard of a few being employed while I was there. And let me tell you, those few are enough. And Maika is the most lethal. As I said, she’s the Syndicate’s favorite assassin. She’ll hunt us down and take her gun back, and then kill us all for having the audacity for taking it from her in the first place. And not necessarily in that order.” Kaya studied Garn for a moment, taking in what he’d said. “You’re sure about that?” she finally said. “What if we threw it out the airlock right now? Got rid of it?” “She’d still hunt us. Even if we got rid of it, we’d still have taken it, and honestly, I don’t know if it being in our possession or not would be better or worse for us when she finally tracks us down.” Kaya hummed and nodded. “And you really think she’ll track us down? Tig can get the warp drive fixed in…” she turned to the four-armed robot, “how long until you can get the warp drive fixed?” “I would estimate half a standard cycle, Captain.” She turned back to Garn, “half a standard cycle. We get out of here and out of reach. You really think she can track us down across the galaxy?” “She’s been hired on assignments with less information to go on before,” Garn nodded solemnly. “She has a perfect record.” Porter leaned out and put a hand on Garn’s arm. “Had a perfect record, buddy” he corrected with a smile. “We got away once, we can do it again.” “That’s because she wasn’t expecting you to punch her. Or to get blown up and shot at by reinforcements.” “Well then,” Kaya sighed and smiled crookedly. “Guess we’ll just have to keep doing what she doesn’t expect, and then shoot her again if she shows up.” “If she survived at all,” Porter added. “Tig got her pretty good back there when she was going to kill you, Garn!” Garn still couldn’t bring himself to feel as lightly about their situation as the humans seem to. From across the room, Tig nodded at him reassuringly. “I will move reverse-engineering the weapon to be higher on my to-do list. If she shows up, we will be armed and ready.” “That’s the spirit Tig, shoot her again!” Porter’s laughter was cut short as it broke down into a coughing fit. Garn looked back, alarmed at the strange noise emanating from his friend. He’d sometimes heard prisoners of the Syndicate make sounds like that. As they died. Was Porter dying? Was everything that happened today finally catching up to him? Embry must have had the same line of thinking as she offered a bottle of water for him to drink, a concerned expression on her face. “Okay,” she said as he drank between coughs, “I need to know exactly what happened today. Did I hear you say something earlier about Nebbillins? Did they sting you?” Porter, now with his coughing fit mostly abated, began recounting what happened after he had started looking for parts for the ship. Garn listened and offered input and additional details once he got to the part where they’d met. Tig excused himself to get working on the warp drive and Captain Kaya sat back and listened intently to the story with Embry. As they recounted the day, it hit him again just how much his life had changed in such a short amount of time. The events he was talking about now seemed like they must have been someone else’s story. And yet it was him. It had to be him because it wasn’t anyone else sitting here with three humans on a ship orbiting one of the moons he had looked up at with longing all his life. It was him, not someone else, talking and being listened to by humans who were entranced by what he had to say. He had so many things he wanted to know about them, that he’d always wanted to know and ask, and yet, they wanted to know more about him and what had happened that led him to be here with them now. And not only that, they seemed… they seemed happy with him being there with them. Or at least, Porter did. Embry seemed to be as well, though she was still somewhat wary about him. He wasn’t sure about the Captain. Whenever she looked at him, she seemed to be scanning and analyzing everything there was to know about him, all the while, her expression gave nothing away about what she thought about him. She hadn’t thrown him off the ship though, so that had to mean she liked him well enough, right? He had already made a connection with Porter. That probably helped. Despite the events of the day, he found that he actually felt peaceful. Even if the humans didn’t allow him to travel with them and dropped him off at the next opportunity they got, he was still free. He had accomplished what so few dantums ever had. He’d left. He’d done what he always wished he could. He was free to live his own life. And he was cautiously optimistic and maybe a bit hopeful that he’d made some new friends that could help him figure out what to do next.

Part 4

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: the forest is your only escape from the everyday troubles with your family until you find danger lurking behind the trees. or rather, danger finds you. your fateful encounter with the vampire ravn leaves you wishing for a different life. you strike an unexpected deal with the stranger that will soon turn into something more…

pairing: vampire!ravn x reader

genre: vampire!au, angst, humour, slight fluff

warnings: human trashnaming lmao, blood, fangs, sensual (?) biting

word count: 2.6k

author’s note: magician!seoho cameo especially for @wandu *mwah*

part one 🌙 part two 🌙 part four 🌙 part five 🌙 part six 🌙 part seven 🌙 part eight 🌙 part nine 🌙 part ten🌙 part eleven 🌙 part twelve 🌙epilogue

Two weeks later, you awoke in the middle of the night, because you were feeling peckish. You had already gotten used to the expensive red velvet sheets that surrounded you every night. It wasn’t their softness or the riches in Ravn’s castle that gave you comfort. It was the realization that your family could no longer bully you for not being married well-off or judge you for reading too much or anything they chose to hold against you.

You could finally be yourself. And not in the way you had been in the forest - lonesome. You finally had company that accepted you for who you were. There was one tiny downside, that company consisted a vampire that required your blood. But you reminded yourself this was your idea in the first place. And though sometimes uncomfortable, it was still way better than your previous life.

You got up from the bed to search for said vampire. He didn’t really need sleep so the bed was just there as an accessory of some sorts. You were glad for it, because you were planning to stick around. You couldn’t find him anywhere so you made yourself at home and went to prepare some food. Ever since you’d “moved in”, Ravn had made sure you’d have all the commodities a human could possibly require, including a previously empty room that could now be perfectly classified as a kitchen. 

You were very grateful for his kindness but there was a part of you that kept saying this was too good to be true. Sure, you were giving something in return, but was it enough? What if his intentions towards you changed at one point? What if one day he decided he no longer liked your blood and tossed you away? What would you do, then? Or what if…he just killed you once he grew bored with you? Admittedly, you weren’t really scared of death. But you still liked living. After having endured so much torment, you were now enjoying life and you didn’t want that newfound happiness, that freedom to end.

As you were making yourself a sandwich, you suddenly heard a noise coming from somewhere nearby. You looked around but could see nothing and nobody.

“Ravn, is this you?” you asked fearfully.

However, you were shocked when you were met with a complete stranger lurking in the shadows!

“Who the hell are you?” the suspicious man inquired.

“I could ask you the same!” you shot back.

“I asked you first!” he continued.

You groaned in frustration.

“What are you doing in the kitchen?”

“What are you doing in the kitchen?” he mimicked your voice.

You rolled your eyes, completely done with this stranger.

“RAAAAAAVN,” you yelled for dear life, hoping that your vampire host would kick the intruder out as soon as possible.

“Wait, you know Ravn?” the man asked.

“Uh, yeah. Do you?”

“Are you kidding? I’m his best friend, Seoho!” 

“Oh. I’m…” How were you supposed to introduce yourself? Ravn’s blood bank? His human roommate? What were you to him?

Luckily, you were saved by further questioning things, because Ravn walked into the kitchen in that very moment.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, visibly concerned about your well-being, which made your heart flutter despite your better judgement. “Ah, Seoho, hi!” Ravn’s tense posture immediately relaxed. “Did you scare my human?”

He’d called you his human…Never before had you imagined that being a vampire’s human would excite you in such a way. You had previously thought that being too possessive was somewhat cringey. What had changed? Why were you so quick to fall for his charms?

“I’m not scared!” you quickly stood up for yourself. “I just didn’t know who he was, that’s why I called your name.”

Ravn smiled fondly.

“There’s no need to worry,” he reassured you. “Seoho is my best friend. He’s a magician.”

“Woah,” you were amazed to have met yet another supernatural creature. Things were getting more and more interesting.

“Would you like to explain to me why there’s a human in your castle?” Seoho intended to find out.

Ravn gulped anxiously. Seoho was staring at him intensely. You looked at Ravn, then at Seoho, then back at Ravn and the tension in the kitchen was too terrifying to move or speak a word. What had you done wrong?

“Y/N, could you go upstairs for a bit? I need a moment alone with Seoho.” Ravn whispered gently but you knew this wasn’t a request. 

So, you quietly slid away from the room, but before you could start walking towards your new bedroom, you couldn’t help but overhear Ravn’s answer.

“She won’t tell anyone about what we are.”

“How can you be so certain?” Seoho responded angrily. “Don’t you remember what almost happened to Xion when his secret was exposed?”

You were in no place to hear any of this but it was too tempting to miss. You felt really bad about eavesdropping but if you wanted to survive in Ravn’s castle, you had to know what to avoid doing or saying.

“How can I forget when I’m the one who pulled him out of this mess, in the first place,” Ravn replied just as angry.

“There’s a reason why I insisted on erasing your victims’ memories! Humans are the lowest form of existence and they can’t be trusted!”

“I was a human once,” Ravn reminded his friend in a sad, almost nostalgic voice.

“Yeah, and how did that work out for you, huh? I swear to Lucifer, if she exposes us…”

“I can deal with the consequences for my actions, Seoho. Just leave Y/N out of this.”

“What makes her so special?”

Ravn was silent for a brief moment.

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me she’s…”

“Shh,” Ravn interrupted his friend as if he somehow knew you were listening at the door. “It’s just a theory.”

“You’re being very defensive over a mere theory,” Seoho pointed out.

“I’ll let you know when I find out for sure.”

“Well, until then, you can’t blame me if I choose to stay away,” Seoho announced.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Ravn said calmly.

“Good night, sweet prince.” Great. Another Shakespeare fan, even though he strongly disliked you. And the whole human race, for that matter.

“I’m not dead,” Ravn laughed.

“Well, technically, you are,” Seoho reminded him and judging from the abrupt end of the conversation, he’d somehow disappeared. Magicians, eh? 

You could now hear Ravn’s steps approaching so you ran up the stairs as fast as you could. You wondered if vampires had super hearing as well as super speed. 

You hurriedly opened the door to your bedroom and flopped yourself onto the bed, grabbing the book on your nightstand and opening it at random, meaning to pretend you had been casually reading and not at all eavesdropping Ravn and Seoho’s conversation. 

Soon enough, Ravn walked in on you only for you to realize you were holding the book the wrong way. Fuck. You mentally slapped yourself for being so stupid and reckless. Ravn sat down to you calmly and sighed.

“What part of go upstairs did you not get?” he asked you in a serious tone.

It was at that moment you knew…you fucked up.

“How much of it did you hear?” Ravn continued once you didn’t say a word.

“M-most of it,” you replied in a small voice. 

Your hands were shaking and you put the book down, because it was of no use right now, you’d gotten caught and you were going to die. Goodbye, world.

Ravn sighed once again.

“Are you angry with m-me?” you murmured sheepishly, avoiding to make eye contact.

“Not really,” he confessed. “Just…upset.”

“I’m s-sorry for listening, I didn’t m-mean to.”

“Then, why did you do it?” Ravn asked, slightly raising his voice, which made you flinch.

“I wanted to know why your friend had such an intense hatred for humans. And to…possibly avoid doing anything that would make you share his opinion. That would make you…want to get rid of me.”

You finally dared look into his face. What you saw wasn’t what you expected to find. He didn’t seem angry at all, just…unbelievably sad. Like he’d said.

“And did you find the answers you sought?”

“Not really. I’m just as confused as before.”

Ravn scoffed lightly.

“Ask away, then.”

“What almost happened to your friend Xion…did it have anything to do with a human?”

Ravn nodded.

“Will you…t-tell me about it?”

“Xion is a vampire like me,” Ravn started. “Once upon a time, he fell in love with a human girl. And for a while, he thought she loved him back. Until…she betrayed him. She came from a family of vampire hunters. She was deceiving Xion for months. And one night, she made him walk right into a trap. Luckily, Seoho had warned me about having heard a fraction of her thoughts. At first I doubted it, but something made me follow Xion. The girl had led him deep into the forest. He was surrounded by her, her brother and their parents. She had poisoned him with juniper and he was too weak to defend himself. They were torturing him and…were about to put a wooden stake through his heart if I hadn’t intervened. I…had to kill all of them. I usually don’t kill humans but…Xion is my friend, I couldn’t just let this go.”

You were quiet for a couple of minutes, silently considering everything you’d heard and what it meant for you. Of course, he had killed humans. It was vampire nature, after all. 

But you were surprised to find out that this changed nothing about how you felt. You still wanted to stay with him. Were you afraid? Hell to the yeah. Were you also curious to find out more about him? Now, more than ever. Did that make you weird? You didn’t know and you didn’t care.

“I’ll understand if you want to walk away. And I won’t stop you,” Ravn said in a composed tone but you could see he was struggling.

“Why would I want to leave?” you were frantic. “You had no choice. You had to save your friend. If…someone threatened to kill a friend of mine, I would react in the same way, irregardless of whether my enemy was human or vampire.”

Ravn smiled knowingly. He didn’t bring up the fact that you never before mentioned anything about having any friends.

“And if it were your own family who threatened to kill your friend?”

You smirked viciously.

“Especially if it were my family. I would, in fact, enjoy it.”

His eyebrows rose in shock. He never pressured you for any information about why you’d rather stay in his home than return to your own. He figured you’d tell him if you felt ready.

“Do you have any more questions?”

You considered asking him about his theory concerning you but you remembered how he’d interrupted his friend Seoho, probably because he knew you were listening on the other side of the door. Which meant that he didn’t want you to know. So, you decided to forget about it. For now. You shook your head.

“But I want to say something, instead.”

“Go ahead,” Ravn encouraged you.

You hesitantly put your hand on top of his and looked him directly in the eyes.

“What that girl did to your friend Xion…I would never do to you.”

Ravn’s pupils sparked with emotion but his words were as cold as his skin.

“Never say never.”

“I wouldn’t!” you insisted passionately. “I made a promise!”

Ravn laughed.

“Okay, okay, relax,” his free hand touched your cheek softly. “I trust you.”

You beamed and leaned into his touch.

“So…you won’t get rid of me yet?” you inquired in a cute voice.

“Do you trust me?“ 

"No,” you chuckled, the lie leaving your lips easily.

“Clever girl,” Ravn caressed your cheek and you could swear you were seconds away from melting. He was kinder to you than any humans you’d interacted with in your short life. “You can even read books backwards! Truly a talent,” he said, mockingly reminding you of your awkward plan to appear nonchalant.

“Stahpp,” you pushed his shoulder with your own. “I was scared you’d be mad at me!”

“What, and you didn’t consider the fact that I could literally hear your loud breathing and the blood pumping through your veins?”

“I knew it! You guys have super hearing, as well. What else should I know?”

“Mmm, how about…I can hear your stomach grumbling right now. You never had the chance to eat that sandwich you were making, did you?”

You groaned in embarrassment.

“Ugh, right. Cause your friend interrupted my midnight snack.”

“Well, how about you finish your sandwich and then, take care of my midnight snack?” Ravn suggested smoothly.

“Sounds like a deal,” you giggled and grabbed his hand and hurried towards the kitchen.

You munched on your sandwich happily, while Ravn observed you. The knowledge that you were the food was a bit troubling but you were strangely certain that Ravn wouldn’t kill you. For him, having hunger for human blood was just as natural as you craving bread or cheese or tomatoes. And you were learning how to accept that. The way he had accepted you for yourself.

“I’m done,” you informed him, sounding a tad bit too excited to be devoured by him. 

You leaned back against the kitchen counter and offered him your neck. Ravn walked towards you slowly, the anticipation forcing you to quiver needily. There was something intoxicating about the way his fangs pierced your skin, something that made you lose yourself in his touch. 

Of course, you would never tell him that, it would give him far too much satisfaction and you liked that he believed this was a quid pro quo relationship. If he knew just how much you were enjoying yourself, you were afraid it would change your dynamic. And you weren’t ready for that. 

The minute his teeth were finally on you, you had to bite your own lips to stop yourself from moaning his name. He was holding your lower back for support and you could already feel your legs starting to give out. But you didn’t want to stop him just yet, because there was something absurdly sensual about him biting you, your human blood being transferred into his immortal body. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for too long but you treasured every second in his arms as if it was eternity. Once you felt your legs shaking, you dug your nails into the back of his neck to signal him you were about to pass out. Ravn immediately released you, causing you to stumble awkwardly. His hands were immediately wrapped around you again.

“You good?” he asked in concern.

You nodded weakly and placed your hand against his chest for support.

“Can you walk?”

Another nod on your behalf. Ravn stepped back, giving you space. You barely made one metre before you tripped, collapsing right into his arms.

“What am I to do with you?” he tsked at your feebleness and lifted you carefully.

He was so strong. If it were anyone else, this would probably frighten you, but because it was him, you felt uncharacteristically safe. As Ravn carried you upstairs, you could feel yourself drifting away. It wasn’t exactly passing out, you were just sleepy, so it was okay. You hadn’t broken his ground rules.

“Ravn?” you murmured seconds before falling asleep.

“Mhm?”

“Thank you.”

“What for? If it wasn’t for me and my bloodthirst, you wouldn’t be in this state,” Ravn said, amused by your sudden gratitude. But you were already in dreamland.

To be continued…

[captain-yeet]

In Awe of You (Felix Volturi x Reader One-Shot)

Summary: Adjusting to becoming a newborn is tough, you're scared and every little emotion you have is dialed up to eleven. Luckily for you, a certain giant vampire is right there for you every step of the way - and has a fun surprise for you.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety with a big dose of Soft Fluff. 

Author’s note: I’ve had some anxiety and crappy things happening lately so I figured why not project that shit into my fantasy ideal way of dealing with that, so here it be! Queen of self-projecting, that is me.

Being a vampire was tougher than you thought it would be. Firstly, you didn't plan on becoming one so soon and against your will.

Secondly, all your emotions felt as if they were live wires. You were easy to set off. When you were excited you practically bounced off the walls, and when you were sad it crushed your soul completely, rendering you almost immobile. You were always an emotional person as a human, so it didn't surprise you too much when it carried over to your second life.

Today was one of your bad days though. Curled up in a ball in your living quarters, you were nestled up with a soft blanket and a book you'd been meaning to read for a while by the window.

A soft knock brought you away from your story. "Come in," you called out.

The door opened and in walked Felix. To your surprise, he wasn't wearing his usual Volturi robes and attire. Instead, he opted for a simple coat and trousers, which you had to admit he looked good; given that you’d only ever seen everyone wearing their medieval-esque robes and cloaks, the modern century attire took you by surprise.

"Afternoon Y/N," he greeted you, smiling widely as he saw how you were sitting. "Feeling comfy?"

If you could still blush, you would have. "More restless," you confessed. "Being cooped up all the time is making me feel antsy."

 “It isn’t easy being a Newborn,” he chuckled in reply. He approached where you sat and gestured with a hand to where you sat as if to say “May I?”

You scooted back on the couch you sat on to allow him some space. “I need to do something other than sitting around being cooped up here, Felix.”

 “Y/N, you know why,” he chided you, offering a sympathetic smile. “You’re still gaining control over your thirst.”

 “It wouldn’t even have to be around people,” you tried to argue your case but Felix’s sigh made your voice die down.

Watching your reaction, Felix frowned. “You would like to go out that bad, huh?”

Deflation turned into eagerness. You nodded your head excitedly. “Hell even if it’s the middle of nowhere, a forest -  the middle of Antarctica even! Just please, I need to get out at some point soon or I’m going to go crazy.”

Cutting your sentence off you put your head in your hands, gripping your hair at the roots in frustration. You felt Felix very gingerly put a hand on your back, making you let out a low growl in warning. All of your instincts were dialed up - part of you wanted to throttle Felix for touching you, but another part of you knew if you did you would immediately start sobbing.

In any other situation, Felix would have simply laughed at your dramatics. He’d seen you when you were goofing around. This time was different. He had a lot to learn about how humans functioned in the modern day; he’d heard of a lot of the younger generations having struggles with anxiety and other mental health issues but hadn’t ever met anyone who dealt with them personally. You were the first - the first quite frankly he gave a shit about - and he knew the circumstances of your turning only made it worse.

He withdrew his hand, standing up. “Come with me.”

You didn’t respond. You were statuesque, unable to will your limbs to move. You wanted to move, to relax but your muscles were locked in place.

Once again, you felt his hands on you just as gently as the first time; he was crouched before you now. Fingers brushed against your hands gripping your hair and you let out another growl, only this one sounded more like a kitten’s attempt at being scary. This time though he didn’t pull away; his hands were still on yours.

 “I have an idea that I think will make you feel better.” His voice was low but lacked the usual sardonic tone he typically used in conversation. It was soft; which again, threw you off. “I’m bending the rules a bit here and Caius will have a fit, but I think it’ll be good for you.”

You lowered your hands, slowly, eyeing him meekly. “What did you have in mind?” you asked quietly. Even in your anxious state, your curiosity was peaked.

A half-smile lit up his face, a pleased one. “There she is. Want to find out? You must come with me - there’ll be no humans where we’re going so no risks.”

Tempting. A day out with Felix. An against the rules outing with Felix, but an outing nonetheless.

What harm could there be?

You trusted Felix - after all, he was essentially your unofficial mentor throughout this newfound afterlife for you. He vouched for your life when Caius and Aro wanted you dead. A mere human who managed to evade hungry vampires during a feeding, aware of the immortals was asking for disaster. But, a few shared glances with Marcus and hushed whispers later, you found yourself writhing on the ground in pain. And as soon as you woke up, Felix was one of the first people you saw and he’s guided you since. There was no reason to not trust him.

So, you conceded, fully bringing your hands away from your hair and letting them fall limp into Felix’s.

He pulled you up and guided you out of the room, reaching for your jacket along the way which was discarded on an end table near your room’s door haphazardly along the way. Even with your anxieties, among the knots in your stomach was a small jolt of excitement building.

 “Are you sure this is safe?” 

 “Y/N, we’re vampires. Things like this can’t hurt us.”

Felix had taken you to what felt like the edge of the world. You’d left the ancient stone walls of Volterra and had followed Felix across the countryside and deep within the untouched Italian landscape. Now, you stood on a cliff, peering nervously down at the waves of water below.

 “Why are we here?” you asked, eyeing Felix curiously as the wind whipped your hair wildly around your face. 

 “We’re going cliff diving,” he replied cheerily, his smile widening into a grin as your eyes went wide.

 “I - are you sure? Cliff diving?” you squeaked.

He nodded and began taking a few steps back. “Tell you what - if you’re nervous I’ll go first and come back up, just to show you there’s nothing to fear.”

The grin on his face was pure, feral glee. Again, this man surprised you with how laidback he was outside of working for the Volturi.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, Felix had launched himself off the cliffside.

Shocked and scared you couldn’t help but scream as he went over the edge, descending quickly and out of eyeshot. “You’re a dick Felix!” you shouted. “How dare you scare me like that!”

You heard loud, raucous laughter from below. He heard you, so that meant he was okay. Good. Not like you were worried or anything.

Five minutes later, Felix appears again at your side completely drenched to the bone. Something about how exhilarated he was, the light in his eyes as he beamed at you with a cocky shit-eating grin sent a new jolt of nerves to your stomach.

If you were still alive, you swore your heart would have skipped a few beats at that moment.

 “See? No harm was done,” he reassured you, “now it’s your turn.”

And the anxiety was back.

Tentatively, you took a couple baby steps to the edge of the cliff. Everything you had been worried about bubbled to the surface - the fear you felt when you thought you were going to be killed by vampires, that same fear when Aro turned you, the heightened anxiety you’ve been feeling since you awoke as an immortal. 

 “One of the things I enjoy about doing this is the freedom of jumping and knowing nothing can hurt me,” Felix’s voice was right by your ear as he spoke. “I know you’ve had it rough. See this as a chance to vent your feelings. Scream, yell... let go Y/N.”

His last words to you came out in a low purr, convincing and oh so very enticing.

And you believed him.

Rocking back on your heels momentarily, briefly feeling your back hit his chest, you took that little leap of faith, letting out a loud scream as you did so. It was a scream of anger, pain, and defiance at the bullshit hand the universe played you and it served as your war cry as the air whipped your face as you descended below.

Unbeknown to you, Felix watched on with a softer smile than the cocky excited one he wore before. You wouldn’t let yourself be beaten by circumstance and quite simply, he was both proud and in awe of you.

[bang-tan-bitches]

MONSTER MASH 2020 ENTRY 2

It was all... her. So many memos she'd left behind and even a lock of her hair. And so many pictures. From her social media, from her phone, asleep in her bed, at parties, and ones of her when she was-- oh God, he had been there.

For everything.

Warnings (SPOILERS IN WARNINGS): Stalking, obsession, slight mentions of non-consensual kissing and touching, death, angst, blood, slight gore

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader, Namjoon x Reader

The gentle morning light swept slowly over smooth satin skin. Tranquil songbirds drifted through the open window, waking the entwined lovers, spent from a late night. The man’s full lips drifted into a smile as he opened his eyes, automatically drifting down to the beautiful woman laying on his chest.

“Good morning, my Darling.” His whispered words filled the room. Inky hair fell over his forehead as his dark, doe-like eyes glowed with love.

How had he gotten so lucky? Abundant curls cascaded over a heart-shaped face, and long lashes brushed high proud cheekbones, and he knew when she opened her eyes, a colorful kaleidoscope awaited his hungry eyes. Her locks continued over mismatched raspberry lips, and over a bare, silken shoulder and swept over her graceful back. Possessive pride filled his chest. This was his soulmate; the one he’d waited for.

He slowly drifted one large palm down her delicate back, and back up again. “Wake up…” He murmured and smiled at her groan. “Come, the morning is moving without us.”

She slowly opened her soft eyes, meeting his intense gaze.

“You…” She whispered, “You're really here?”

God, it hadn't been a dream. When he'd come to Y/N out of nowhere outside of her apartment, she'd been shocked to see him. He was a friend of her boyfriend's. Kind, but quiet. The kind of handsome her best friend would usually go for. Namjoon had been welcoming when Yoongi introduced her to his friends. And Namjoon had justified being near her apartment, offering her a ride to the local college since Yoongi had been worrying over Y/N walking alone. She'd smiled at Yoongi's mother hen behavior and turned Namjoon down, and turned to keep walking. Then a sharp burn penetrated her neck and everything went black.

Tears burned her eyes, matching the inner sickness that made her dizzy.

He smiled. “I really am, Love. Finally, you're mine. I'd been waiting so long for you; did you know I saw you first--that night at the skating rink?” Large, calloused palms slipped over her as he flipped Y/N over.

"I was blindsided by your beauty and talent. I couldn't resist learning everything I could about you. I knew you were special. And Yoongi.. well, he'll forgive me eventually when he realizes how much you needed me. After that last fight with your parents..." She blinked up at him, those joyful tears sliding down her cheeks, laying pliant under his larger body. They'd only shared tender kisses, but he knew his sweet, shy Y/N would be ready for him to take her soon. He buried his face in her neck, leaving a soft kiss under her ear. "I am never letting you leave. I can keep you safe, and loved here."

Namjoon's raspy voice echoed in her ears.

Stalking.

He had been stalking her. How did he find out about her parents?

She had to get out of here. Where were they? Everything was so fuzzy after he'd drugged her. She still felt sluggish.

Trapped. Alone. Practically defenseless.

She plastered a frozen smile on her face. "N-Namjoon, I really need the bathroom and a shower. I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

He pouted and playfully kissed her. "It's Oppa to you now. Go, I'll make you breakfast." Such a tease to mention a shower and the tantalizing idea of her beautiful body. He wanted it all to himself, to enjoy her slowly and sweetly. What would it be like to make love to his soulmate?

Y/N was already backing away into the master bath, cringing when she realized the locks were disabled. Her heart was racing, and she slid down the door as she heard the footsteps fade. Did anyone know where she was? Her parents had practically disowned her last night after announcing she wanted to be with Yoongi for good. He was her forever.

And now...

She was trapped in a bathroom by her stalker. Those calls over the weeks, the notes and strange glitches in her laptop-- had it all been Namjoon?

Y/N raced to the toilet and vomited. Her legs were still so weak. She shook with terror and leaned against the toilet, the cool ceramic grounding her.

Breathe.

She needed to breathe. To get contact with the outside world or escape. But how? Namjoon hadn't been dangerous yet... maybe she could just walk out?

She washed her face robotically and left, nervous to take off her clothes in a place Namjoon could easily reach her.

Walking out the door slowly and quietly, Y/N crept along the short hallway and out to the kitchen and living room in the simple but tidy apartment Y/N assumed was Namjoon's. The far corner of his living room was the logical place to be, the complete opposite of the direction the man was busy in front of the stove, completely burning the pancakes he was attempting to make. He waved her over, his cold eyes boring into her. "Watch this for a minute while I get your surprise from the pantry."

As he walked away, Y/N took her chance and grabbed a slender, long knife from the rack next to the stove, and shoved it in her sleeve. She panted as if she was in a race, adrenaline pushing her senses into overdrive as she listened for Namjoons return.

Namjoon whistled merrily as he brought the bag to the table. He couldn't wait to show Y/N how he could, and did protect her. He grabbed her around the waist and led her to the table, returning to the kitchen to grab their plates and Y/N's favorite morning tea.

"Look, Darling," Namjoon said as she sat at the end of the table. She must want a good view of his gift. He grinned at her excitement and placed a plate with pancakes and bacon in front of her.

Did he not realize just how burned the food was? Y/N clenched her fists under the table. What was wrong with him? She looked up at him as he pulled the cloth off his "surprise" as Namjoon grinned, his sweet smiled so at odds with the madness lurking inside him. "I wanted to protect you. Now they will never hurt you again."

Time seemed to slow at that moment. A horrifying, slow moment in time as the realization of what she was staring at sank in. Y/N shrieked, nearly falling out of her chair.

No.

No, no, no...

Her mother and father's glassy eyes stared at her from mangled heads, the rusty scent of dried blood filling her nose. She slipped from her chair and onto the beige carpet, her body shaking with sobs.

He had... Namjoon had...

Killed them.

And she was trapped with this monster.

His grey socked feet stood in front of Y/N as he bent to comfort her. "The first body is always a little much, but--"

Y/N jerked away, standing up, nose to nose with Namjoon. "You are a monster!" She sneered at Namjoon, "You took my family! You stalked and drugged me! You're insane--"

Namjoon's fist struck out like a cobra, the slap leaving her ears ringing. "I am not insane," His nostrils flared as he stepped over her prone body. "I'm not like her, Y/N, I'm better. I am your soulmate. She always told me I'd find you."

Her? Y/N's head was throbbing as she held her face. "Who is--"

"--Not everyone believes in soulmates, but we are fated, darling." He cupped her bruised, throbbing cheek, smoothly cutting her off. "I'm sorry you are hurt, but we both know we cannot tolerate lying." Namjoon's dark eyes were stern. She dropped her head and nodded, relieved that the knife hadn't fallen from her sweater.

They ate in silence.

Y/N couldn't decide where her eyes should stay-- on the murderer, or her parents? Was it all her fault?

Her chest ached with the strain of trying to keep her grief at bay.

So her eyes focused on her plate as she pushed her food around. Namjoon ate easily, telling her about his homework and class schedule as if it was an everyday occurrence to have parts of corpses in his kitchen.

He left her alone in the kitchen, off to shower, but not before ordering her to stay in the living room. After the bodies and the brutal slap, Y/N felt too weak to fight back.

Namjoon twisted the knob in the shower stall, the faucet squeaking to life. Maybe he should have waited to show Y/N. But she had said she hated them over the phone, so maybe once the shock wore off, she would understand her newfound freedom.

Namjoon nodded to himself before his thoughts turned to the idea of Netflix and holding his sweet lover close. Would he finally be able to touch her the way he'd been aching to?

Y/N paced the apartment. The shock was starting to wear off and she had started moving; if only to get her body working again. She would get out. She would find a way to make him pay for what he'd done.

Y/N swallowed and turned to the windowpane, the high ride apartment making it impossible to call out to anyone. She was too far up. A swatch of color caught her eye and she turned to the wall, and the breath left her lungs at the sight in front of her.

It was all... her. So many memos she'd left behind and even a lock of her hair. And so many pictures. From her social media, from her phone, asleep in her bed, at parties, and ones of her when she was-- oh God, he had been there.

For everything.

"I never missed a day with you after I found you, darling," Y/N jumped and turned, her face glowing with pride. Namjoon knew she would love to see how close he was, how much he loved being with her.

She smiled at him, tears brimming. "You... you..."

Namjoon stepped close, able to smell her sweet perfume. "I know, my love. You were worth everything I had to give up. I love you enough to sacrifice my entire life."

“Y-You love me?” She asked.

“I love you more than you could imagine, Darling,” He smiled. Those deep, coffee-colored eyes took in every detail of his beloved's face. Y/N smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching up to kiss him as she pulled the kitchen knife from her sleeve and stabbed the blade into his neck with all the force she could muster.

[tvdversefanfiction]

Forget me Not

Chapter 2 - Remember My Name

Warnings: I do not own nor do I claim to own any of the material, characters, or storylines from within the TVDverse. I am not making any profit from this, this is purely a passion project, from one to other fans who are willing to read.

15+: May contain moderate to strong language, sexual innuendos, and sexually charged scenes. Moderate to strong descriptions of violence, gore, torture, and practices of witchcraft.

F/F, F/M, M/M, GEN, + OTHER

Chapter 1 Already Gone

So, the plan, if you were wondering, to beat the hollow and reunite the Mikaelson siblings turned out to be painfully simple so painfully simple it should have been our first option but in fairness, one should never cast a spell until they have learned everything about the spell their casting, a lesson I learned many years ago.

Elijah, Klaus, Kol, and Rebekah, reunited with their eldest sibling Freya within the family compound in New Orleans, Elijah's memories now restored making all four of them ready to get rid of the hollow for good and after giving the siblings a few minutes to catch up with each other and share their stories from the past nine years in which they were all apart, the plan was ready to be put into motion.

At first, I was stricken by shock and disbelief as like their brother Elijah, neither Klaus, nor Kol, or Rebekah, seemed to remember anything about me looking at me like a stranger and not somebody who had shared his life with them, it was as if all memory of me had been taken from them or perhaps they had just lived such a long and intriguing life since we had last met that I had been entirely forgotten.

I was all but numb by their forgetfulness even though it did make me more curious that not a single memory of my existence was remembered by any of them, no one's lack of memory hurt me more than Elijah's, I could understand Rebekah and Kol not remembering me, God even Klaus, but not Elijah, not after everything he had done for me.

But I was not there to be reunited with old friends nor was I there to look back on the past, no, I was there to get rid of the hollow and then and only then could I investigate their confusing case of amnesia that seemed to only be related to me.

I had each Mikaelson bring a newbie vampire of their own making, four strangers I did not give much thought, nor did I give a damn about their fates, and I ushered the four Mikaelson's to stand in front of their creations, one by one until there was a line of Elijah, Klaus, Kol, and Rebekah, and a line consisting of the four new-born vampires, and then Freya and myself began the spell to extract the hollow from her siblings, putting into the newbie immortal beings, and then proceeded to kill the four vampires, sacrificing them to eliminate the hollow and reunite the original family.

Yes, those four strangers who I and Freya killed could have been complete innocents or they could have been worse monsters than those I was helping but I did not care, I had lived too long a life to be affected by a stranger's death or to cry about spilled blood. I am far from innocent, and I care for only a few so when that few need me, I would wipe out an entire city to help them out.

After all, humans are born to die whereas creatures like myself were born to live forever.

After the deed was done and the hollow was gone, I took myself to the nearest bar I could find so I could drown my sorrows over being forgotten by the only people in the world I thought truly knew me, the closest bar being Rousseau's.

"What can I get you?" Asked the largely too chipper bartender.

"Vodka," I answered him as I sat down at the bar. "Just leave the bottle."

"I guess it's been one of those days!" He responded as he handed me a bottle of their finest vodka. "It's been one of those days for a lot in this city my friends included but hey we almost got a decade of peace, so I guess chaos was long overdue."

"I did not come here to get to know the bartender." I snapped, making it clear he was not about to make a new friend in me.

"No, you came to help aid the Mikaelson family reunion which will more than likely kickstart another war sooner rather than later." He revealed as I realized this man clearly had an ear to the ground when it came to things that went on in his city. "What I want to know is which Mikaelson made a friend out of you my money is not on Klaus maybe Rebekah definitely not Kol."

"Who remembers?" I mumbled with a sense of bitterness as I took a drink from the bottle of vodka. "You must be one of Marcellus' minions' rumor has it he's not too happy about his beloved Rebekah running back to the family that wronged him so many times."

"You know the Mikaelsons and Marcel? I'm nobody's minion unless they get all murderous then I'm anybody's just to stay alive but I'm sure not playing in their games even if my best friend is now married to Kol." He went on to tell me. "My name is Josh and I know you're like the original heretic or whatever but what is your actual name?"

"So, your best friend must be the harvest girl turned super witch Davina Claire, I have heard of her, just like I have heard of Marcel, but I have never met either. As for the Mikaelsons, it seems they have completely forgotten me." I decided to answer him, not knowing why I was divulging any information for some undead bartender. "My name is Salem Helsing, everybody always knows about the legend of me, but they never get my name right."

"Do not tell me you are related to Van Helsing, the prince of darkness' ultimate nemesis? The guy Wolverine from X-Men played in that movie that was criminally underrated?" He questioned me with a sense of excitement, a sense that I knew all too well whenever anybody heard my last name for the first time.

"Dracula's nothing but a myth, a legend, a story, but Van Helsing, he was my father, is my father," I replied, admitting for the first time in a long time who my father was, as I took a bigger drink from my bottle of vodka.

"The Mikaelsons knew the son of Van Helsing himself and yet they do not remember you? Something tells me your memory was either replaced with something almost as awesome as the heretic son of one of the most famous hunters or some witch probably spelled the memories away." Josh said, his words making more sense than any other words I had heard in days. "Wait, so you are telling me Dracula is not real?"

"The only thing I know that my father hunts is me," I admitted to him. "In my entire existence, I have never once been forgotten, feared, loathed, and despised sure, but never forgotten…"

"And that annoys you more than anything doesn't it? Which one of the Mikaelson's were you in love with? Clearly, you're nursing a broken heart here and you would not be the first in this bar to find themselves in need of a drink after a rendezvous with that family." Josh responded all too correctly for my liking.

"You are smarter than you look, Josh," I replied while attempting to change the subject as I stood up from my chair. "Too friendly for my liking and that quality is definitely going to get you killed but I cannot deny my hope you last at least a century or two."

"So, which one?" He asked again, eager for my answer, one I was not willing to give and so instead I just walked out ready to leave this city for good and never look back but fate itself had other plans for me.

I never got far from that bar before Klaus Mikaelson vamp sped his way in front of me within the streets of New Orleans and I recall briefly hoping that at that moment he had remembered me, that they had all remembered me but of course, it was not his memory that made him seek me out but instead of his curiosity or better put paranoia.

"So, what the hell is this newfound freedom going to cost me?" Klaus asked me abruptly. "And do not say it's free because I have heard of your help, and it always comes at great cost.

"You seriously do not remember me?" I replied in complete disbelief, stunned to think he somehow knew of me yet did not remember me. "Am I the biggest fool to think that maybe just maybe our history together would be remembered even if a few centuries passed? God, I dreaded so much about seeing you again, I thought you would hate me, or I'd hate you, or that the past would just remain in the past, but I never thought for a single moment that you would not even remember me!"

"I think all those years not quite being a witch or a vampire has truly warped your mind because neither myself nor my siblings have any recollection of you, and I'd think I would remember someone like you if we had met," Klaus responded making it clear to me once and for all I had been completely forgotten. "However, crazy, or not you helped reunite me with my family and for that, I am in your debt, so name your price, I could pay for your therapy perhaps?"

"I was simply returning a favor for someone I once thought I knew and either way that favor has been returned so we are done here," I told him as I attempted to hide the hurt within my eyes, the pain on my face, and the fact that his words had just broken my non-beating heart.

"Why does this not feel like it's over?" Klaus asked me, as untrusting as he always was as if I could even answer his question when I was beginning to question everything myself.

Before I could conjure up any words for a response to the original hybrid himself, Elijah sped his way onto the street's vampire style and was now standing side by side with his brother.

"Salem Helsing!" Elijah said, surprising me with his greeting, only to surprise me further when he rushed over to hug me tightly. "I remember you now and I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me and my family."

As if this visit to New Orleans had not surprised me enough just when I was beginning to accept the fact I was nothing to a family I once loved like my own, just when I was giving up all hope, Elijah had miraculously remembered me, and as he continued to hold me tightly in his arms, I realized I was a fool to ever think I meant nothing, at least to Elijah anyway and his arms I began to break down. I cried with such great relief that Elijah had found me again that I had found him, that we had found each other and after all these years he was back in my life, and now he had returned to me, there was no way in hell I was ever going to lose him again!