#i wasn't trying to listen to the call but caught that somebody had died in a station.

[anonymusbosch]

sometimes i feel like extending the kindness you can, when you can, is the only thing there is

[deke-rivers-1957]

ECU High - Pacer's Bereavement

Pacer was still shaken up even days after he saw Vance's booth. The anniversary of "that day" is approaching. As much as his dad and his step brother try to support him, it just isn't the same.

It's now Labor Day and Pacer's trying to find a way to relax. After a few hours of laying around he looks at his phone. He realizes the only way he can feel better is to pick up his Nokia and send Clint a message.

"Can you come over to my house?"

He puts it down waiting for Clint to respond. After a few minutes he gets a reply.

"Sure. B right over."

Pacer sighs and lays back on his bed. He tries to think about what he could say to Clint when he visits. A few minutes later his dad comes in his room.

"Pacer your friend's here."

Pacer gets out of bed.

"Awright."

He walks downstairs and see's Clint waiting for him.

"Hey Pacer. Why'd ya wanna see me?"

Pacer takes a breath.

"I got something real important to show ya."

Clint's unfazed by this.

"Ok Pacer."

He follows Pacer all the way to the back yard.

"Wha's this?"

A piece of animal skin covered in beads wrapped around a wooden horse figurine rests beneath a pecan tree.

"Last year before we moved here from Oklahoma, my mother was murdered. We just couldn't stay in that house anymore. It's Kiowa tradition to move after a family member dies, but in this case it was a murder."

Clint's eyes widen.

"What?"

Pacer takes a deep breath.

"My mother being part of the Kiowa tribe of course had dark skin and hair like me. Our house was mistaken for someone else's so these government officials thought we were illegal immigrants. They raided the house and when my mother of course grabbed my dad's gun to protect herself they," he trails off.

Clint looks absolutely shocked. He understood exactly what Pacer implied.

"Pacer. Ah. Ah jus dunno what ta say."

Pacer rubs his face.

"Nothin ya can say. I just think that I can trust ya enough to share this. I don't expect ya to relate and I definitely don't want sympathy for it. This wasn't a tragic accident. This was a murder. Even if they did have the right house, they still would've killed her."

There's a pause.

"They called me a red-skinned indian and said she was nothing but a wagon burner. If wasn't for my dad coming back home," he trails off again and covers his face.

Clint can see that Pacer's caught up in his feelings.

"Ya know something, Clint. Sometimes I dream about my mother talking to me from the great beyond. That's always a bad thing."

"Why?"

Pacer's emotional and can barely contain himself.

"Death's the worst thing to happen for the Kiowa people. If someone who's sick starts to see their dead loved ones, it means they're going to die next. I've been seeing my dead mother just about every night and I just know I'm gonna die soon. I just know that somebody's gonna kill me just like they did her."

"Well tha's jus awful, Pacer. Ya shouldn't gotta worry bout gettin killed jus cause ya ain't white!"

Pacer rubs the tears from his eyes.

"I know that! I can't control what other people think about me! I know they pity me 'cause I'm a half-breed! That I'm never gonna be white like them! That I should be thankful my dad even wanted me!"

"Ah still wanna help, Pacer!"

Pacer calms down and sees that Clint means what he says. It isn't meant to be pity but genuine compassion.

"I know. I don't expect ya to solve this problem. You ain't ever gonna be able to bring my mother back. You're also too poor to donate to people who can help. If you really wanna help, just learn. Just learn what it is that we struggle with so that when ya do have enough money, you know how to spend it."

Clint says nothing and just listens.

"Well. Do ya need anythang now?"

Pacer takes deep breathes and tries to think. There's a long pause.

"Do ya have any money?"

Clint looks confused and looks in his wallet.

"Ah got bout 5 bucks. Why?"

Pacer looks in his own wallet.

"I feel like going to Whataburger. A burger sounds good right about now."

Clint's eyes widen.

"Oh Ah love Whataburger! Ah'mma call Ma now!"

Clint pulls out what can only be described as a hand me down pay as you go phone and makes the call as Pacer heads inside for a second.

"Dad, Clint and I are going to Whataburger."

Pacer's dad makes a sound of acknowledgement and Pacer goes back outside to get his bike.

"Ma said so long's Ah'm back by sunset Ah can go wit ya."

Pacer nods and the two boys bike down to the restaurant.

"Oh god Tulsa and Josh are here too."

Clint sees the two sitting at a bench outside.

"Ah know ya don't like 'em but they ain't wit 'em govment people. Ah think if they done knew bout wha happened ta yer mama they'd be jus as shocked as Ah was."

Pacer has a long sigh.

"Well ya hear Tulsa talk about the JROTC. He's about as bad as a Jehovah's Witness. Ya know he's Cherokee right?"

Clint thinks.

"No Ah didn't. Why's that matter?"

Pacer rubs his eyes.

"He's got this Native name like he's part of the tribe but he ain't. He don't know what it's like to be called a wagon burner. He don't know what it's like to called a beaner because someone thought I was Mexican. He don't know any of that."

Clint says nothing knowing he never went through what Pacer did.

"I know he didn't pick his name, but for him to say he's Native American when he's about as white as he can be is an insult. He isn't part of the Cherokee tribe and he doesn't know about his people's culture. He's just a white boy with Native American ancestry. Just isn't the same."

Clint waits for Pacer to finish.

"Ah don't think he'd wanna say all that ta brag. Maybe he done knows jus how bad Native Americans was treated an that he ain't gonna be treated bad so he wants ta include it in his life."

Pacer looks at Clint. He knows Clint had a certain point despite not doing a good job of explaining it.

"My issue's that he's making like the government never did a thing wrong and everything the army did was amazing. Minorities are still treated unfairly and he's ignorant for not realizing that."

Clint nods.

"Well. Maybe Tulsa'll learn all bout it an change his mind."

Pacer sighs.

"Maybe you're right."

There's an awkward silence.

"So didja join the gardnin club?"

Pacer looks at Clint.

"Yeah. I know it was your idea to make the club and Mr. Lightcloud's actually a pretty nice guy, so I joined up."

Clint smiles.

"Tha's great. Ah know Mr. Lightcloud from the 4-H club an," he trails off when he remembers the Native American outfits some of them would wear.

"Yeah Mr. Lightcloud told me about how he would teach kids about Native American history and the cultures of individual tribes. He's enrolled in the Navajo Nation and used to live in that region. I think I might be able to really feel accepted there."

Clint feels relieved.

"Oh well tha's good cause Ah got all scared ya was gonna find what we was doin in the 4-H club offensive. We was wearin all kinds a Native clothes an Ah dunno if tha's somethang ya think's not ok."

They head inside to order.

"Nah. Don't worry about it, Clint. Mr. Lightcloud loves to bring jewelry and other products Navajo women would sell. I don't have a problem with people who ain't Native American wanting to buy traditionally made items. So long as they buy it directly from the people of those tribes, I think it would be a sign of support."

Clint looks at the menu.

"Ah get it now. They're all small business owners so buyin it from 'em's a good thang cause yer helpin 'em make enough money ta live."

Pacer nods and starts to smile a little.

"Pacer. Did yer mama use ta sell thangs jus so yer family could make nough money?"

Pacer stops to think about it.

"My dad's always made enough to make it so we never went hungry. My mother used to make wooden figurines of animals more as a side business. She really liked the craft so whenever me or my step brother Clint had a birthday, she'd sell some to get enough money for gifts."

Clint still looks at the menu.

"Pacer. Kiowa people ain't got anythang they can't eat do they?"

Pacer pats Clint on the back.

"Nah. It ain't like we're Muslim or Jewish where we have all these rules. Traditionally, Native American tribes don't restrict themselves. Food was something you had to provide yourself so it's something where you would eat whatever you could find."

Clint nods. "So ya don't got any allergies neither?"

He shakes his head. "Nah. My mother never kept me or Clint from eating anything at restaurants. So long as we had a balanced meal, we could have a dessert just fine."

Clint gives Pacer a thumbs up and the two order their food. Pacer still feels sad about the upcoming anniversary of his mother's death, but for once he feels like he belongs. He actually considers Clint to be his friend and believes that things will get better.

AN: Thank you for the feedback @xanatenshi.

Tagging: @mercsandmonsters, @vintagepresley, @thetaoofzoe, @ashtag6887, @whitepontiac, @tupelomiss, @thedaisymaisy, @richardslady121, @arrolyn1114, @theelviseffect, @elvisbooty76, @just-another-boring-bisexual, @aliengoth3, @phil2135561, @gayforelvis, @ash-omalley, @eptodaytommorwforever, @wildhorseinkansas, @alienelvisobsession, @comebackep, @presley72elvis, @leopardandstuds, @ellie-24, @heart-of-ep, @thatbanditqueen, @saturnsatnin @be-my-ally, @mydarlingelvis, @myradiaz, @jaqueline19997, @louisejoy86, @peskybedtime, @lookingforrainbows, @your-nanas-house, @januarypresley1969, @justrae9903, @codalysssssworld, @joshuntildawn13, @briefpandatimemachine, @precious-lil-scoundrel, @sillybookmarks, @tacozebra051, @cattcb, @perfectpresley, @vintagegirl50s60s70s80s, @lett-them-eatt-cake @j-v-9-2, @almightybigbrain, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @miniaturerunawaykid, @msamarican, @all-hookedup-on-elvis, and @doll-elvis.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 13

The Darkling x Reader

This is more of a filler chapter, I wanted to write something where reader is in action🤭

As much as you loved to keep your personal and work life separate, the life at the Little Palace rarely allowed for such things. Rumors spread and tensions rose and much to your dismay the privacy of Aleksander's chambers only reached so far. Everywhere you went eyes followed you with a sense of interest, poking and prodding for the details of why the Deputy General had stayed in the Darkling's quarters, but more importantly why you raced out of there in the dead of the night, slamming every door possible with loud echoing thuds.

You ignored it all, you had work to do. Currently, you stood waiting in the courtyard for your horses, your recruited Grisha in tow. You had asked Fedyor for the best soldiers, ones who could be ruthless and loyal. Two Heartrenderers, an Inferni and the Squaller you now knew as Zoya waited behind you, shivering from a sudden gust of freezing wind.

The weather had gotten brutal over the past few days but this mission couldn't wait. You had gotten intel that somehow a Kerch merchant kidnapped Grisha while they traveled between camps and was keeping them in a home not far from the Palace, waiting to transport them across the Fold and use them as indentures. This angered you beyond means of explanation.

Your stableboy brought out your beautiful chestnut brown Arabian, and you quickly hoisted yourself up. You would all be going on horseback despite the weather, for a carriage would slow you down significantly.

'Zoya, I'll need you upfront with me, if it starts to snow heavily we'll clear the way.' You addressed the Squaller, patiently waiting as she got up on her horse and came to rest beside you, giving you a curt nod.

'Ready?'

You brought your horse into a quick gallop, cringing as the cold whipped past you.

******

Riding a horse was only comfortable for so long before your tailbone began to ache. It had been around an hour, but you were almost there as a small village came into view over the hill. You stopped your horse and put up your hand signaling the rest to stop too.

'We leave our horses just there, where the forest fades-' You pointed over to a place just to your right, where tree coverage would protect your horses from the cold. '-we walk the rest of the way. All intel pointed to the house being secluded, most likely right before the village grows more populated.'

The thing with these missions was there was never an exact location, which frustrated you and from the loud sigh Zoya gave, it frustrated everyone else too. You all slid off your horses and walked them to the forest, tying them securely to trees and beginning the walk, making sure to stay hidden behind the trees.

'What's the plan?' Asked the Inferni.

'I go in first, neutralize any threats I can see. Fedyor, keep to my side but be behind me. The rest of you, your main priority is to look for the Grisha. Don't kill anybody unless I tell you to.' You could see the surprised look on their faces and you knew why.

Even though Aleksander was extremely powerful and immortal, he never walked into a fight first, he was always the one to walk into a clear path, never cleared it himself. You did things differently, liked to be in complete control.

'What did the General say about this?' He spoke again.

You stopped and turned to him.

'If you have any issues with how your superior is commanding the missions, I suggest you turn around and learn how to be a soldier.' You snapped. Aleksander had these people wrapped around his finger. He stared at you with wide eyes and almost immediately his composure dropped, succumbing to your intimidation.

'I don't have time for this nonsense.' You scoffed and walked ahead to where Zoya was searching for the hideout.

'Is it that one?' She pointed to a cabin about with a man guarding the front door. Bingo.

'He's too far, I need to get closer.' Fedyor's raised hands dropped down to his sides. The other Corporalnik nodded in agreement.

You turned away from the group and concentrated on the man, feeling for his pulse and once you gathered the understanding, gently stopped The flow of blood, watching as he fell to the snow-covered ground with a thud.

'Don't take offense, I'm much older' You patted the Heartrenders on the shoulders and ran to the cabin. You saw Zoya let out a strong gust of wind to open the door, almost knocking it off its hinges.

Shouts erupted all around and shots were fired. You bled shadows into the hallway, rendering the Kerch men blind, hoping they wouldn't shoot in the dark. Simultaneously, you slowed the heartbeats you could make out, hoping the shouts died down. With luck on your side, the cabin turned silent and you retreated your shadows.

Three men dressed in fine vests lay slumped on the floor, a pistol or rifle in each hand. Fedyor automatically bent down to take the guns out of their hands and looked around for something to detain them with. You could hear the rest of your crew search the cabin, the loud squeak of the cellar latch opening. You too went to look around, opening all the doors that could open and listening for the beating of one's heart. Nothing.

You grew angry at the possibility of the intel being incorrect. You came to the last door on the far end of the home which was slightly ajar. You could feel a faint pulse and as you opened the door, ready to protect yourself when your eyes caught sight of a purple kefta. A Fabrikator? The figure didn't move from where they were standing. Their hands weren't bound and neither were their legs.

'Are you here with the Second-Army?' Her voice was quiet but steady.

'Yes. Come with me' You moved away from the doorframe and into the hallway once again to let the Grisha through.

'Who are you?'

'Deputy General, now come on we must get going' You heard Zoya indicate from the cellar that they had found the Healer.

She moved away from the wall and walked to you with her head down, showing no indication of being thankful for being saved. Doubt pooled in your stomach but you let it go. You returned to the main room and stared at the three men tied up in the chairs but quickly averted your eyes to Zoya who appeared perplexed and for once, you shared her thoughts. The Inferni walked out with the Healer behind him and what looked like a Squaller to his right but nobody said anything. What is going on?

'Is anybody injured?' You spoke first amongst the crippling silence. Nobody responded. Suddenly out of the corner of your eye you saw the Fabrikator take one of the disposed pistols and point it at you, not hesitating to take shots. You deflected as best you could, protecting the others from the bullets but quickly realized the girl was a Durast and wherever she wanted to shoot, she could definitely make the shot.

You looked around and to your surprise, your Inferni was lying on the ground as the Healer battled Zoya. Fedyor was seemingly pushed up against the wall by the Squaller. What in Saint's name is going on. These are not my Grisha. Your falter caused your shadow shield to break and you felt a cold bullet lodge itself in your thigh where your kefta peeked open.

The pain was too strong, clouding your mind and momentarily prohibiting you from accessing your powers. Saints this hurts.

You reclaimed your mind, letting the merciless Cut wander out to her. The Durast screamed in horror as her hand dropped to the ground. You ignored it, letting your eyes wander to the Squaller and knocking her out with a wind so strong it rattled the cabin. Zoya managed to subdue the Healer, tacking to the ground and holding her hands above her head. You shot out a tendril of onyx shadow and restrained her, relieving Zoya of the uncomfortable position.

You were beyond angry, you were fuming. You harshly grabbed at the Durast, slamming her against the wall by the lapel of her kefta, your thigh screaming in pain. You could feel blood pooling in your riding boots.

'What is this?!' You hissed

'You're not taking us back. You will not force us to be part of that army'

'You would give up the Little Palace for the dirty streets of Ketterdam' The venom rolling off your tongue was almost paralyzing.

'If I am to serve your kind then of course. You're probably stealing my power as we speak' The room stilled and your pain was forgotten. Zoya held her breath, even the Healer's stomach dropped.

Something in you snapped, and with nothing more than a flex of your fingers, the girl's neck snapped, her lifeless body tumbling to the ground. You didn't say another word. Zoya took that as a sign to tell the rogue Grisha they will be tried as traitors, and restrained them both, taking over from you.

Your previous words came back into your mind, Don't kill anybody. You shame Aleksander for merciless killing yet you just did the same. You broke your own rule because somebody offended you. You fool.

You wordlessly limped out of the cabin, completely forgetting the bullet wound on your thigh.

***

The ride back to the Little Palace was torturous. The two traitors had been subdued and riding with the heartrenderes. Your thigh was in excruciating pain and upon entering the gates, you had felt completely numb. As far as you knew, nobody knew you were shot. You had left them to deal with the mess in the cabin, too blinded by anger and arrogance to help and act as the leader. But now, the only thing blinding you was tiredness which you knew wasn't good.

Your horse diligently walked to the courtyard doors but you didn't get off, you couldn't. Your eyes had shut on their own accord. The tiredness washed over you again and your head spun.

You could faintly make out the sound of your name being called by Fedyor asking about the traitors, but you paid him no mind, focusing all your attention on trying not to fall off your horse. Your head bopped, but you fought to stay awake and pass the wave of tiredness so you could walk to the healers unit, but it was relentless.

You felt somebody pull the reigns of your horse and lift the cloak covering your leg, you didn't argue. Then the shouts started. You couldn't hear what they said as your head bopped again, once, twice, then you let go.

****

The immense itching sensation on your thigh was overwhelming. If that wasn't the reason for you waking up, it was the loud argument taking place at the foot of the bed.

You managed to open your eyes to see a Healer working on your leg, looking very focused. She spared you a sweet smile then went right back to work. Oh Saint's this is so itchy. It took everything in you not to itch the bloody wound. Thankfully, the raised voices dragged your attention away.

'We didn't know, she just left!' Fedyor.

'If you'd have gotten here 10 minutes later she would have been dead' Aleksander.

'We thought she wa-'

'I don't care. Leave before I do something I regret' The door opened and shut. You suspected the only people left in the room were you, the Healer and a fuming Aleksander. If he knew you were awake, he showed no indication of it. You didn't need to look at him to know he was brooding. Was he mad that I'm injured or that the mission went sideways?

Your hands clenched as the itching sensation got worse. You hated being healed, it was even worse than being injured.

'If you clench that fist any harder you'll break your knuckles' His voice carried no anger anymore, it was soft but had an edge of plea in it.

You didn't respond. You didn't know what to say. You hadn't seen him since the other night when you confronted him about Alina, and he made no moves to approach you since then.

'I'll give you a written report mission once I'm done here.'

'No need. Zoya took care of it already' As much as you had tried to convince yourself you disliked the beautiful Squaller, she had really come in clutch today. You were thankful.

'Alright, that's all I can do for now. You did lose a lot of blood, so take it easy for the next couple of days.' The young girl got up and left after you muttered a quick thank you.

'Are you ok?'

'We just got ambushed by rogue Grisha who had personal vendettas against me, what do you think' You sat up and rested your head against the headboard, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand.

'I should've cross-examined the intel. If I knew what they were I would've given you more reinforcements.' He leaned against the wall next to the door, sensing your hostility and keeping his distance

'I didn't need reinforcements. I was just caught off guard is all'

'You killed a-'

'Please, don't say it. , it wasn't my proudest moment.'

'Zoya kept it out of the report. Said she got caught in the cross-fire.'

I love you Zoya.

'Do you want me to leave?' His question made you freeze. On one hand, you were still angry about the other night and the comment he made, but on the other Aleksander always made you feel safe and his presence brought you peace.

'You probably have work to do. I do too anyway' You got up to leave the bed, but he quickly walked over to you, pushing you back down. You grabbed his hands out of reflex.

'Take it easy for the next couple of days. Is that not the advice you got?' He cocked a smile and traced a small pattern on your hand. You stared into his eyes and tried to find a reason to not fold into his embrace, you badly needed a hug, and he gives the best ones.

'Alright, but you can leave' Your answer surprised him, it surprised you too. Apparently subconsciously you still held a grudge against him.

'Y/N, Next time you get hit, please tell someone.' He whispered as he swooped down to kiss the top of your head lovingly, letting his lips linger for a moment. Just as you were about to give in and wrap your arms around him, his warmth left you.

'It won't kill you to take a day off.' He teased as he walked out the door.

I never got that hug.

Part 14

Taglist (tell me if u want to be added to the Little Witch taglist !!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

Here’s a masterlist where u can find previous parts of Little Witch 🖤

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 07 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 1.9 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (06)

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{Vikings Masterlist}

×

Honesty

“(Y/N), wake up.” A faint, weak murmur fills your ears. You're still under water though, floating away. “C'mon, wake up.” A sudden motion makes you bounce, a movement too abrupt to someone who's drowning. That's when you acknowledge the air filling your lungs. Not too much, but enough to bring some relief. You can't be under water. People can't breathe under water. “You won't die, hear me? Not from the cold.”

Ubbe. What's Ubbe doing here? Closing your eyes tightly, you feel like you're climbing back to the surface, back into consciousness, forcing your eyes to open. The first thing you notice is the cold, piercing, attached to your bones. Then, you realize you're being carried. “What...” You mumble, clenching your shaking hands into fists.

“There you are.” Ubbe happily says, walking fast. “We're almost there.”

“Almost where?” The lightning suddenly changes, and everything gets a little darker.

“What happened?”

“She was at the lake. The ice cracked and she fell.” Ubbe says.

“Get a warm bath to her room now!” You recognize Aslaug's voice. “Bring her close to the fire.”

The moment you're put down and feel a source of warmth, you push yourself closer, but arms hold you back. “Not that close.”

“Shit.” You curse, hands hovering above the fire. It comes back suddenly. The woods, the lake, and the ice cracking under your feet, swallowing you. How you got out, however, you have no idea, but you figure it was Ubbe. “Damn it.” You're shaking like a leaf, wishing you could sit inside the fire.

“(Y/N).” Someone calls, and when you look at your side you see Ivar and Hvitserk, both looking worried. Ivar moves faster though, dropping to the floor next to you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, hands cupping your face.

“I'm cold.” You mumble, laughing at how stupid it sounds. “I'm freezing.” Giggling, you feel as Ivar pulls you close, your body collapsing on his chest. It makes you blush, if that's even possible given how the cold has penetrated your bones. Shaking against him, you place your forehead on his neck, welcoming the warmth emanating from his skin. “Sorry, I'm soaking wet.”

“Don't worry.” He says, a hand caressing your hair. You don't know exactly what's going on, but Ivar is like a second fire right now, and you have no intention of letting go of him.

“Here,” Hvitserk mutters, and you feel a piece of fabric being laid around your shoulders.

“Alright.” Ivar fixes the blanket, rubbing your back. “You'll be fine.”

“Let's leave them,” Aslaug says in a low voice, and you notice Hvitserk and Ubbe walking away. “I'll send someone to call you when the bath it's ready.” Her voice fades away as she speaks, and then there's nothing but the low noises of the fire.

Slowly, you feel yourself warming up, the shakings finally surrendering as you sink more and more into Ivar. You don't want to think about what this means, so you barely move, not wanting whatever this is to end just yet. You almost died today. Drowned, frozen, whatever. But you did think that was the end of it. And life has so much to offer, you'd hate to lose all of its endless possibilities. Death will come one day, but first, you want to live.

“What happened?” Ivar asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“I didn't know I was at that lake, I just... I wasn't really paying attention then I heard a cracking noise.” Taking a deep breath, you remove some hair attached to your face. “Then it broke right under me and the water was so damn cold.”

“(Y/N),” Aslaug calls, and, hesitantly, you move away from Ivar, sitting up straight. “Come take your bath. You need to warm up.”

“Alright.” Nodding, you glance at Ivar before pushing yourself up.

The bath is a blessing, and you couldn't be more thankful. The warm water cleans the ice that fixated itself on your bones, and you relax in the tub. Aslaug, of course, wants to know exactly why you ended up on the frozen lake, and you have no choice but to tell her what you heard. But you beg her not to speak to Bjorn about it. You can deal with your own problems, and you don't want to make their already delicate relationship worse.

After you're clean and warmed up, she allows you to leave the bath and get dressed. You're eager to leave this episode behind and never again you'll set foot on frozen water. As you leave your room with Aslaug, her maids left to drag the tub away, you meet Hvitserk coming from the opposite direction.

“Ice lady.” He says, smiling.

“I'll leave you two to talk and go find my husband,” Aslaug mutters, and you sigh to know she will be speaking to him about Bjorn.

“How about not calling me that?” You tell Hvitserk, crossing your arms. “I almost died.”

“But you didn't.”

“Hvitserk just...” Complaining it quite useless. He'll probably only make it worse. “Fine then, call me what you like.”

“It looks like I won this battle then.” Raising an eyebrow, he gives the girls passing by a glance. “What was that, by the way?”

“What was what?” Running a hand through your hair, you still have a threat of hope he might be talking about anything else.

“Really? Do you expect me to ignore you and Ivar hugging like that?”

“I don't know what that was.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh. “But I'm willing to find out. It's better than think too much and end up with wrong conclusions.”

“Ivar is in his room, in case you want to know,” Hvitserk says in a low voice, walking closer and giving you a glance that always makes you want to punch his jaw. “And he was very worried about you.” And he walks away, leaving you there like an idiot.

“You're putting some effort into ruining this friendship, aren't you?” Rolling your eyes, you turn on your heels and start making the way to Ivar's room, walking fast and eventually leaving Hvitserk behind.

You were feeling brave until you're at Ivar's door. Then you wonder if this is a good idea. Some things are better left alone, and Ivar is a complicated person. But still, you can't bring yourself to walk away, so you knock three times, not sure if you want him to answer. But you hear footsteps, and seconds after the door is pushed open. It still takes you by surprise how tall he is, and those blue eyes still send shivers down your spine.

“I left my necklace here.” You mutter, feeling a little stupid. “Earrings, bracelets...”

Silently, Ivar moves aside, giving you space to walk in, so that's what you do. “They're where you left them.” He mutters, but gestures at the table he has set near the fire. Following his gesture, you sit down, hands hovering over the fire. “Ubbe said he saw you wandering through the woods.” He starts, settling down on the chair across the fire. “He called, but you didn't listen.”

“Yeah, I was just... Trying to run from my own thoughts, I think.”

“What happened?” The question is the same as earlier, but it means something entirely different. This isn't about the ice cracking, it's about what led you into that situation. Raising your eyes from the flames, you find Ivar's intense stare as he leans forward, the fire illuminating his features.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to tell him. “I heard Bjorn and your father talking and when I caught my name I decided to know what was that about and... Bjorn said something about a prophecy that says he'll marry a princess and guess what? He thinks I'm the princess.” A humorless laugh escapes your lips.

“Bjorn wants to marry you?” He states, cupping his hands together, anger taking over this expression.

“I don't care what Bjorn wants, only about what I want and I surely don't want him.” It sounds mean, like you despise the man. “I won't be told what to do, not here, not anywhere else, I'm done with being just a piece on somebody else's game.”

A smile creeps through Ivar's lips, and the anger slowly fades. “That's good to know.”

“And... Ragnar said he kept me alive because he promised my father.” Looking down at your hands, you decide to share this with him as well. “That if I didn't get used to Kattegat he'd just send me anywhere. He wasn't thinking about any prophecy.”

“So you're not into Bjorn?” Ivar asks, and you stand up, rolling your eyes.

“I wouldn't have fallen into a frozen lake if I was.” Running a hand through your hair, you tell yourself not to keep bringing that up. The talking or the lake incident. Both things are better if forgotten. “I thought it made things obvious.”

“I've been seen women falling for Bjorn since I can remember.” Ivar says, resting the clutch on his lap. “Some had him, some were left with a broken heart. The older he gets, more women chase after him. Can you blame me for thinking you would be one of those?”

Turning to look at him with both hands on your hips, you chose to be honest. As honest as you can, because there are things you don't understand, things you can't put into words. “In the boat, sailing here, for a moment I thought Bjorn was... I don't know, he was being nice to me. But it didn't take long for things to... Change.” The moment you saw Ivar for the very first time, something went off... Or on, inside you. You don't know what, but suddenly Bjorn was already on second plan. But you're not bold enough to tell him that. “Then he knocked me down with a shield, made my mare bolt up a slope, and now the lake... It wasn't directly his fault but I didn't like him talking about me like I'm just a thing that he thinks belongs to him just because someone else said so.” You get angrier with every word, as the memory of everything he said comes back. Moving to the table, you grab a cup and pour some drink for yourself, taking long sips. “I'll belong to whoever I chose, and only if he wants to belong to me as well.” You only realize what you said when you can't take it back anymore. Taking a deep breath, you drink what's left before putting the cup down. “Sorry, I needed to give vent to my anger.”

“That's alright.” Ivar stands up, slowly making his way over you. “It's good to know you won't bow down. You're more Viking than some people I know.”

“More Viking? Please, I can't even hold a sword properly.” You're about to move away when Ivar's hand comes to your waist, holding you as he did on the day you almost fainted because of the head injury. It clouds your mind immediately, and when you turn back at him, your faces are only a few inches away.

“You can still learn if you want and if you don't...” His hand moves away, coming to caress your cheek instead. His fingertips are cold, but they leave a trail of fire on your skin. “I'll still admire your bravery, Christian princess.”

The way he says it makes you smile. For the first time, it doesn't come out as an insult, or in a sarcastic way. Could Ivar accept you, despite the differences between your worlds? Right now, it feels like he can.

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @msrawog

[stargaze-issei]

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟹; ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ

-> yachi hitoka.

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; as yachi grew up, she had to hide her feelings all the times, but when she met you, her true self finally came out. everybody should be allowed to love however they want, right?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; mentions of bullying, questioning sexuality, those kind of stuff.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.1k

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; mostly fluff.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; i wish this happened when i first crushed over a girl.

↳ main masterlist

yachi was rather young the first time a girl caught her eye, except she made the mistake of sharing her thoughts with her so called friends. the laughs and mocking never left her mind, not even in highschool, years after. she made herself hide her own feelings, her own happiness. it wasn't like she never liked a guy, she did, but sometimes girls made her feel those things too. what did that mean? how could she like both men and women? no one around her was like that, and she hated standing out. 

that same bubbly feeling in her belly appeared when shimizu, that flaming third year, asked her to join the volleyball club. it appeared too when the other new manager showed up late at the gym, a silly smile on her face, apologizing for the delay. yachi could say, with all certainty, that the feeling had never been stronger. you were beautiful, she thought, more than beautiful, and didn't make her feel uncomfortable at all. if anything, she wanted to speak to you, get over her initial anxiety and get to know you.

shimizu introduced you two to the team, your overflowing confidence spreading to her.

"i think we haven't met" were your first words to her, making yachi's heart flutter "i'm y/n, i look forward to work with you" the poor girl could've died right there at the friendly smile you gave her, a blush growing on her cheeks and ears.

with every day that passed, yachi began to be herself around you. she was ectastic at the fact that you wanted to be around her as much as she wanted to be around you, always waiting for her outside her classroom, spending every break you had by her side. the feeling was getting harder and harder to hide, she liked you so much it scared her. no, she fought against that her whole life, what would her mother think abouth her if she fell in love with a girl? it's not any girl, she would remind herself, it was you. no one else compared to you.

you would walk her home, despite her whining on how far you lived from there, but one of the rare days you couldn't make it, hinata offered to do it.

"so, what's going on with y/n?" he asked after minutes of silence. even the oblivious hinata could see how yachi shrank on her place at the question, too scared to answer. had she been that obvious? "i mean, you don't have to tell me, it's fine! i just thought... well, she likes you, and i thought you liked her too but forget i said that! oh she's going to kill me–"

"s-she likes me?" interrupted the girl, freezing in her place, under complete disbelief. shoyo had put and end to her endless wondering if she was confusing your friendship with something else. a goofy smile started to grow on her face, unable to hold back.

"that's what she told me" hinata was unsure if he did a good thing, but yachi's expression couldn't mean something bad. the girl's face was actually glowing, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, she was beyond happiness. "do you like her too?"

"i– is–" she went quiet when she realized what was happening. a sudden fear came over her, filling her eyes with tears. 

"hey! it's okay if you don't like her, you don't have to cry" 

"i-is it okay... is it okay if i do like her?" her voice was so low, like she was scared somebody else would hear her. it was then that hinata understood.

"yeah, that's okay too" his hand placed in his friend's back, trying to comfort her. yachi, in an attempt to hide her tears, buried in hinata's chest before starting to sob heavily "it's okay if you like girls, yachi-chan" his voice had never been so soft, but he understood too well what she was going through.

they stayed there, until she finally calmed down. yachi discovered hinata had been in her situation not so long ago, after meeting a certain setter. he had been scared too, just as her. she talked, like she had never done, about you. she talked about your eyes, your hair, your voice, she said how pretty you looked talking about things you liked, she explained in details everything she loved about you, how easy it was to be with you, how you helped her ease down withouth even trying. she said how she longed to hold your hand, and in a whisper, she wondered how your lips would taste. hinata listened carefully, thinking how that might have been the first time yachi talked about her feelings out loud with someone else, honoured to have earned her trust.

"you should tell her! i bet she'll say yes if you ask her out!" encourage hinata, after a good hour. the blonde's anxiety quickly increasing in her chest. they came up with a deal, if yachi asked you out, then hinata would do the same with kageyama, that way, if one of them failed, at least they could be happy for the other, and if both failed, then they could be there for each other. 

they never thought of the chance of both succeeding.

so there was yachi, waiting for you outside of the locker room. she felt it was disrespectful to look at you changing clothes without your permission, although you had told her you didn't mind. shoyo had gave her a pep talk before hand, trying to pass her as much possitivity as possible. once you got out, she felt like every bit of confidence left her body. you started to walk outside of the school grounds, the silence was killing you, already felling an strange vibe for your friend.

"i'm craving someth-"

"i really like you!" she shouted out of nowhere, her face was a complete shade of red, you could see that even when she was looking down at your shoes. "i really like you and would like to take you on a date!"

if she hadn't grabbed your hand, you would've most likely pass out. behind your confident appeareance, when it came to your feelings you were much insecure, specially with someone as special as hitoka. her eyes met yours, with a renewed faith on herself. she trusted you, enough to confess at least. you felt tears of happiness coming, tightened the grip on her hand while bringing her closer to you.

"i would love that, hitoka" 

[supermarvelgirl15]

Home- Chapter 4 (The Prisoner)

Summary: Din and Jesla join a crew of mercenaries on a dangerous mission to spring a convict from a prison ship. Jesla sees someone from her past.

Pairing: Eventual Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) × OC!Jesla Gavdo

Word Count: 3,725

Warnings: Violence, gun TW, Mayfeld being insensitive

A/N: Din Djarin in red lighting. That's all I'm gonna say

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

××××××

   Jesla paces behind Din as he lands the Razor Crest in a space station hangar bay, muttering to herself. He told her that he had contacted a man he once knew, and that he would pay them for a job that he needed done. She was reluctant about taking this job, but then again, she almost died on the last one.

   “You don't need to be moving around so much. You're not exactly completely healed,” Mando reminds her as he stands up from his seat. 

   “I gotta bad feeling about this, Mando,” Jesla tells him, tapping the side of her leg. Something didn't feel right to her about this at all.

    Din rolls his eyes from beneath his helmet as he starts down the ladder. “You're being paranoid,” he replies. Jesla scoffs as she follows him down. He had the audacity to tell her she was being paranoid?

   “If I recall- correct me if I'm wrong- the last time I said that, we had to emergency land on Tatooine,” she retorts, placing her hand on her hip. Mando grumbles incoherently, making Jesla smirk slightly. She knew that she had a point. 

   He doesn't say anything as he lowers the ramp and walks out into the hangar, Jesla shaking her head before following him. Lately, she found herself following him a lot. Maybe it was because she always followed somebody her entire life, that she was use to it. You could say she was trained to follow somebody.

   She watches as a bearded man walks up to them. “Mando, is that you under that bucket?” The man questions, offering his hand to the Mandalorian.

   “Ran,” Mando says as he shakes his hand. Jesla could tell that they were just merely acquaintances just by Mando's tone of voice. He seemed to have a different tone when talking to people that he liked more.

   “Didn't really know if I'd ever see you in these parts again. Good to see you. You know, to be honest, I was a little surprised when you reached out to me. You know, ’cause I... I hear things. Like, maybe things between you and the Guild aren't working out,” Ran says, giving Mando a look.

   “I'll be fine,” Din replies shortly. That was Mando for you.

   “Hmm okay. Well, you know the policy. No questions. And you, you're welcome back here anytime,” Ran informs him. He turns to Jesla, giving her a once over. “I don't believe we've met. The name's Ran,” he offers his hand to her.

   Jesla looks at his hand briefly before looking back at him. “Jesla Gavdo,” she offers her name, but doesn't take his hand as she continues to walk across the catwalk.

   Ran drops his hand as he leans over to Din. “Some woman you got there,” he mutters to him. Din hums in response, watching after her.

   “So what's the job?” Din asks as they continue to walk across the catwalk as well.

   “Yeah, one of our associates ran afoul of some competitors and got himself caught. So I'm putting together a crew to spring him. It's a five person job, I got four- the extra help is fine. All I need is the ride, and you brought it,” Ran explains, gesturing to the Razor Crest.

   Mando and Jesla share a quick look with one another. “The ship wasn't part of the deal.”

   “Well, the Crest is the only reason I let you back in here,” Ran admits. Din slowly turns to him. “What's the look? Is that gratitude? Uh-huh, I think it is,” Ran laughs as he walks off. Jesla and Din share another look before following him.

   They all walk into a different area of the hangar. Jesla sees a bald-headed man, her eyes widening as she realizes who he is. This was just her luck.

   “Mayfeld?”

   The man turns around with his brow furrowed, his eyes scanning for who called his name. When his eyes land on Jesla, they widen slightly. Din looks between the two, his confusion hidden behind his helmet.

   “Gavdo? I thought you were dead,” Mayfeld remarks as he walks up to her, crossing his arms.

   “I'm surprised you're not,” Jesla comments, looking him up and down. He still looked the same since the last time she saw him. 

   Back then, Mayfeld and Jesla always seemed to compete with each other. They were the top two sharpshooters in their division. The two always tried to one up each other in the field. So basically, they didn't get along much. 

    “I take it you two already know each other,” Ran says, making Jesla and Mayfeld finally break their eye contact with one another. “This is Mando. The guy I was telling you about. We used to do jobs way back when,” he tells Mayfeld.

   Mayfeld then turns to face Mando. “This is the guy?” He queries, also giving him a once over.

   “Yeah, we were all young, trying to make a name for ourselves. Yeah, but running with a Mandalorian, that was... that brought us some reputation,” Ran reminisces.

   “Oh ya? What did he get out of it?” Mayfeld questions, raising his eyebrows.

   “I asked him that one time. You remember what you said, Mando? Target practice. Man, we did some crazy stuff, didn't we?” Ran laughs, patting Mando on the back.

   “That was a long time ago,” Din replies gruffly. 

   “Well... Well I don't go out anymore. You understand? So uh... Mayfeld, he's gonna run point on this job. If he says it, it's like it's coming from me. You good with that?” Ran asks Mando, quirking up an eyebrow at him.

   Din glances over at Jesla, who scoffs. “You tell me.”

   Ran shakes his head as he laughs. “You haven't changed one bit,” he says amusingly.

   “Ya, well, things have changed around here,” Mayfeld grumbles as he turns and walks away. Jesla rolls her eyes as she goes to stand beside Mando. 

    Mando leans his head closer to Jesla. “So who's he?” He quietly asks her.

   “Migs Mayfeld. He's also a former Imperial sharpshooter. We were in the same division,” Jesla answers as they all walk up to the Razor Crest.

   “Razor Crest? I can't believe that thing can fly. Looks like a Canto Bight slot machine,” Mayfeld comments as he observes it. They walk up to a group of people that's standing near the Crest. “Alright, the good looking fella there with the horns, that's Burg,” Mayfeld introduces the red creature that drops a crate he was carrying. “This may surprise you, but he's our muscle,” he adds.

   Burg walks up to the Mandalorian and inspects him closely, ignoring Jesla's presence. “So this is a Mandalorian. I thought they'd be bigger,” he sneers.

   “Droid's name is Zero,” Mayfeld gestures to a droid that walks up to them. Oh, Mando was going to love that.

   Jesla looks around the group with a furrowed brow. “I thought you said you had four,” she points out.

   “He does.”

   Both the Mandalorian and Jesla turn slowly to find a purple skinned female Twi'lek walking up to them, playing with a knife. “Hello, Mando,” she greets Din.

   “Xi'an,” Din nods in acknowledgement. Jesla could feel Mando tense due to the Twi'lek that seemed to ignore her, much like everyone else did.

   “Tell me why I shouldn't cut you down where you stand?” Xi'an hisses before she suddenly attacks, placing her knife on Mando's throat, who doesn't flinch at all. Jesla's fingers itch towards her blaster as she watches the Twi'leck closely.

   “Nice to see you too,” Mando responds nonchalantly.

   “I missed you,” she laughs. “This is shiny. You wear it well,” she comments as she clinks her knife against his beskar. She looks over towards Jesla, her eyes narrowing on her.

   “Do we need to leave the room or something?” Mayfeld jokes as he watches the exchange between Xi'an and Din.

    Ran chuckles slightly before answering. “Well, Xi'an's been a little heartbroken since Mando left our group,” he says.

   “Awww... You gonna be okay, sweetheart?” Mayfeld teases, Burg laughing from beside him.

   Xi'an pushes herself away from Mando. “I'm all business now. Learned from the best,” she points her knife at him.

��  “All right, lovebirds. Break it up till you get on the ship. Right now, we don't have much time,” Ran tells them.

  They all walk toward the Razor Crest, Xi'an turning back and winking at Mando. Jesla decides that she doesn't like her at all. Then again, she didn't like most people.

                                              ∞∞∞

   Jesla's watches Mayfeld as he explains the job to them from beside Mando, shifting her weight to one foot as she listens. Her wound was starting to feel sore from her walking around so much. Maybe she should've listened to Mando, but she was never going to admit that to him.

   “So, package is being moved on a fortified transport ship. Now, we got a limited window to board, find our friend, get ’em outta there before they make their jump,” Mayfeld informs all of them as he shows them a hologram. 

   “That's a New Republic prison ship. Your man wasn't taken by a rival syndicate, he was arrested,” Jesla points out as she shifts her weight to her other foot. She wasn't about to be on the New Republic's radar.

   Mayfeld looks up at her from the hologram. “So what?”

   “That's a max security transport, and we're not looking for that kind of heat,” Mando cuts in, crossing his arms. 

   “Well, neither are we. So just don't mess up,” Ran tells them. Jesla and Din share a brief look, something they seemed to do quite a lot.

   “The good news for you is the ship is manned by droids. Still hate the machines, Mando?” Xi'an jeers at Din, making Jesla shoot her a glare. Who knows, by the end of this, Jesla may kill her like she did with Toro.

   They all continue to go over the plan. Jesla knew Mando wasn't thrilled with the droid, Zero, flying his ship. However, they both knew that Zero was the best choice to scramble their signal as they boarded the New Republic ship.

   Jesla didn't like nor trust anyone that they were working with. None of them knew the value of loyalty. They only kept each other alive so the job could be done efficiently. She despised people like that.

   “Some friends you got there,” Jesla says sarcastically to the Mandalorian as they walk up the ramp into the Crest. 

   Din chuckles dryly. “I don't think ‘friends’ is what I'd call them,” he mutters. Jesla nods in agreement as they walk up into the cockpit as the ship takes off.

   In the cockpit, both Jesla and Mando linger in the back as Zero sits at the controls. “Calculations complete. Jumping to hyperspace...now. Feel free to join the others. I will handle it from here,” it informs them. 

   Mando walks down the ladder to the hangar first, helping Jesla as she climbs down after him. He knew that she needed to rest before they got to the prison ship. She wouldn't be at her best if she was in pain. Jesla seemed to also know this as well as she sat down on a crate, taking a deep breath as she ignored the glare she was receiving from Xi'an. 

   “That's a pretty thing you got there, Mando. How'd you end up with it?” Xi'an asks him as she plays with her knife. Jesla ignores her as she lays her head against the wall. 

   When Mando doesn't answer her, she continues. “C'mon. There's gotta be a reason why you keep her around,” she says innocently. 

   “She's good at what she does,” Din answers her, handing Jesla a ration bar. She realizes she hadn't eaten anything all day as she takes a bite out of it. 

   Xi'an eyes their interaction as she sits up a bit straighter. “Oh? I'm sure she pleasures you greatly,” she smirks, making Burg laugh. 

   Neither Din nor Jesla reacts to her, Jesla taking the last bite of her ration bar. She knew Xi'an was trying to get under her skin, but she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. Jesla found it amusing though.

   Mayfeld chuckles as he stands beside Xi'an. “Hey, if you wanna get to her, just mention Burnin Konn.”

   Jesla's head snaps up at that, Din watching her carefully. He really didn't want to deal with this right now. 

    “What's Burnin Konn?” Burg humors him with a sly smile, Xi'an laughing at Jesla's sudden reaction. 

   “It was a great loss for the Empire. Everyone in our division died, about 5-10,000 people,” Mayfeld replies as he watches Jesla closely. 

   Din watches as Jesla's eyes harden, her hand subconsciously grabbing her tatted wrist. “Watch it, Mayfeld,” she warns him.

   “Don't tell me you're still not over that. Is it because of those stupid clones you were attached to?”

    Abruptly, Jesla stands up and pulls out her blaster as she makes her way to Mayfeld, pointing it at his head. Before she could pull the trigger, Mando swiftly grabs the gun out of her hand. They stare at each other for a few seconds before she shoots Mayfeld a glare and walks away from him.

   Everyone, except for Din and Jesla, starts laughing. Oh, how Jesla couldn't wait until this job was finished so she could kill them all. 

   “Hey, Xi'an, you flew with Mando. Is he as good as they say?” Mayfeld questions the Twi'leck.

   “Ask him about the job on Alzoc III,” Xi'an answers him, turning her attention to the Mandalorian.

   It's Jesla's turn to watch Mando carefully as she turns to face him. “I did what I had to,” he simply responds. That was a phrase Jesla found herself living by.

   “Oh, but you liked it. See, unlike some people, I know who you really are,” Xi'an says, looking at Jesla as she says the last part. Jesla rolls her eyes as she takes her blaster back from Mando and puts it back in its holster.

   “He never takes off the helmet?” Mayfeld queries, crossing his arms over his chest. 

   Xi'an shakes her head with a chuckle. “This is the Way,” she mocks. Jesla wonders how Mando was even capable of putting up with the stupid Twi'leck. She can't even last an hour.

   “You ever seen his face?”

   “A lady... never tells.”

   Din tenses slightly at the new subject, Jesla not missing him doing so. He acted the same way back on Sorgan when her and Cara brought it up.

   “Aw, come on, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here. You gotta show us something. Come on, just lift the helmet up. Come on. Let's all see your eyes,” Mayfeld taunts. When Mando doesn't make a move to take it off, Mayfeld nods at Burg who then closes in on Din.

   As Burg's hand reaches to take off Din's helmet, Jesla grabs it and twists his arm back behind him. Burg tries to fight back, but Jesla kicks him back. Burg grapples for something to hold onto, hitting the release button to the cot, the hatch opening and revealing the Child. 

   “Whoa! What is that?” Mayfeld exclaims, examining the Child closely. “Wait a minute,” he gestures between Mando and Xi'an, “did you two make that? Huh? What is it? Like...a pet or something?”

   “Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says calmly.

   “Didn't take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft,” Xi'an teases him.

   “Me, I was never really into pets. Yeah, didn't have the temperament. Patience, you know. I mean, I tried but... never worked out. What I'm thinking... maybe,” Mayfeld picks up the Child, “I'll try again with this little fella. Huh?”

   Mayfeld pretends to drop the Child, making both Din and Jesla flinch in response. Xi'an and Mayfeld laugh at them. Then the ship starts shaking, everyone fighting for balance. The ship rolls and everyone is thrown around in the hangar. Mayfeld drops the Child and Din immediately dives after him. Jesla tightly grabs onto the wall, balancing herself. 

   The Razor Crest finally docks to the transport. Mando places the Child back in the cot as Jesla curses the droid under her breath. Burg angrily tosses some crates around. 

   Once everyone settles, they start executing the plan. The Mandalorian hacks the opening mechanism of the prison ship's hatch. Jesla is the first one to quietly drop down into the halls of ship, everyone else following after her. 

   They all start moving down the corridors, looking into the prison cells. Everything was going well until Burg decided to blast a mouse droid, which alerted security droids of their presence. Luckily, Mando sneaks up behind the droids and takes them out in a melee fight by himself. Jesla had to admit, he had some skills.

   Upon reaching the control room, Mayfeld commands Zero to open the door. When it opens, it reveals a human guard inside, brandishing a blaster. There wasn't supposed to be any living things on board.

   “There were only supposed to be droids on this ship,” Mando voices Jesla's concerns.

   Mayfeld walks around the guard to observe the control panel. “Hang on, hang on. See here uh...cell two-two-one. All right, now for our well dressed friend...” He trails off once the guard pulls out a tracking beacon.

   Everyone draws out their blasters and trains it on the guard, except for Jesla who trains hers on Mayfeld. She wasn't about to kill an innocent man; she didn't do that anymore.

   Din tried his best talking everyone down. He calmly addressed the guard, whose name was Davan. When Mayfeld wouldn't lower his blaster on the guard, Mando joins Jesla on training their blasters on him. Mayfeld trains his second blaster on Din and his third blaster that was on a droid arm on Jesla. Burg takes out his weapon and trains it on Mando as well, making Mando aim his vambrace weapon at him. 

   An argument breaks out between all of them; Mayfeld wanting to kill the guard, Din and Jesla wanting to let him live. It suddenly stops when Davan is struck down by Xi'an's throwing knife. 

   “Would you all just shut up,” Xi'an complains. 

   Suddenly, Xi'an starts coughing as she starts to choke. Everyone starts freaking out as Xi'an grabs onto her throat. Din looks at Jesla, whose cold eyes is staring daggers at Xi'an's choking form. He moves over to her, grabbing her forearm. “Jes, don't. You can kill her later,” he whispers to her. 

   Jesla looks at him, not missing the new nickname, as Xi'an finally gets her breath back. “What the hell was that?!” Xi'an shouts as she rubs her throat. Mayfeld and Burg exchange a look of what could only be described as fear. 

   “We have twenty minutes before backup gets here,” Jesla states, gesturing to the now blinking beacon. “I suggest we move now,” she mutters as she steps over Xi'an and heads towards cell 221. Din doesn't say anything as he starts following her, Xi'an looking after them with a glare.

   They reach cell 221 with fifteen minutes remaining. Mayfeld orders Zero to open the cell door. Once it opens, it reveals another Twi'leck. 

   “Qin,” Mando mumbles to himself. 

   “Funny. The man who left me behind is now my savour. Mando,” Qin greets as he walks out his cell, side-eyeing Jesla.

   Then, Burg punches Mando in the gut, catching him off guard, and throws him into the cell. Before Jesla could react, Xi'an roughly pushes her into the cell as well, which is locked before either Din or Jesla can get up. Mando fires his blaster at the door, but the shot just ricochets around the cell, Jesla ducking so it wouldn’t accidentally hit her.

   Jesla bangs the door in frustration, the group outside laughing as they walk away. “You've got to be kriffing kidding me!” She shouts in anger. “I can't catch a kriffing break! You should have just let me kill her. No, you should've listened to me when I said I had a bad feeling about this job!”

   Mando grabs Jesla's biceps roughly, making her look into his helmet's visor. “Hey! If you don't get a level head, we're not going to get out of here,” he tells her, his voice like stone. Jesla stays quiet for a couple moments before taking a deep breath. He was right.

   She looks back out the cell, seeing a security droid pass by. “I have a plan.”

                                              ∞∞∞

   Jesla and Mando end up getting out of the cell, and one by one put the others in it. Jesla got the satisfaction of being the one that locked Xi'an up. She salutes to Mayfeld as her and Mando walk off to find Qin. The two find him trying to climb up the ladder into the ship. They decide to keep him alive at the promise of more money. Jesla thought they definitely deserved it after all this mess. 

   They make their way into the ship, finding Zero pointing its rifle at the Child. Mando immediately shoots it and Zero falls to the ground. The Child coos when he sees the Mandalorian and Jesla.

   Later, Din lands the Razor Crest in Ran's hangar bay. Jesla and Din walk Qin down the ramp, Ran meeting Qin in an embrace. 

   Ran looks around them, noticing no one else exiting the Crest. “Where are the others?” Ran asks, furrowing his brow.

   “No questions asked. That's the policy, right?” Mando nonchalantly replies.

   Ran nods, eyeing both him and Jesla. “Yeah. That is the policy.”

   “We did the job.”

   “Yeah, you did.”

   Ran reluctantly tosses the Mandalorian a coin purse. “Just like the good old days,” Din says before turning to reenter the Razor Crest. Jesla winks at Ran and Qin before she follows Mando inside.

   As they start to fly away from the space station, three X-wings drop out of hyperspace. Jesla watches as they fly pass them, heading towards the station and opening fire on it.

   “You planted the tracking beacon on Qin... I'm impressed,” Jesla comments as she turns to face Mando, gently hitting his shoulder. She watches as he unscrews a knob from the lever and drops it into the Child's hands.

   Din glances over at her, getting ready to jump into hyperspace. “I told you that was a bad idea.”

××××××

@living-that-best-life

Tags are open!

[ginnympotter]

uhm this is kind of a vague prompt but harry and ginny going on a date in the muggle world doing the things he always wanted to do as a kid but wasn't allowed? x

LOVE ITTT. OK anyone who actually lives in London reading this, I apologize. I know nothing and admit to this. Also this ended up much longer than intended I’m sorry lol. Hope you like it!

“Ginny, I already told you-”

She groaned, closing the front door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place behind them. “And I’ve already told you that I don’t give a damn.” She took the invisibility cloak from the crook of his arm and threw it over them. “Now, I’m going to need you to apparate us so please concentrate and stop being a humble git.”

Harry sighed, recognizing defeat. “Where to, then?”

“Westminster Bridge Road,” she informed him.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Muggle London? What for?”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed on to his hand. “If you would exert some patience, please, you will find out shortly.”

He conceded, securing her hand in his. “Hold tight.”

He spun on the spot, and Ginny felt herself being squeezed into nothing, suffocating, and then suddenly her feet landed firmly on pavement, the rush of traffic ringing in her ears. Her hand still firmly locked in Harry’s, she dragged them into an ally and took off the cloak, handing it back to its owner. “Put it in your pocket.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, doing just so. They both put their wands in their pockets as well, and then Ginny dragged them back to the sidewalk. 

People walked around them in haste, and Ginny looked at the street signs on both sides of them. “This way,” she determined, tugging Harry’s hand and navigating them to the right. Ginny strode down the street excitedly, Harry by her side, chuckling. 

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing now?”

She chanced a glance at him, and his face held both suspicion and amusement. “Listen,” she began. “I know you don’t care much about making a deal of your birthday, but you should. I mean, need I remind you, it was only about 3 months ago that you almost died.”

“I remember,” he mumbled.

“And so the fact that you made it to 18 is something to be celebrated! And I wanted to do something special, since all I gave you last year for your birthday was an interrupted snog and an overbearing brother,” she smiled. 

He laughed at that, squeezing her hand. “Fair enough.”

“But I knew going out in any Wizarding areas would be too stressful. We don’t need anyone hounding you, and I suppose we could’ve taken Polyjuice Potion but I’d prefer to see your handsome face.”

“Not sick of it yet?”

“Never.” She stopped abruptly, pulled him to her, and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Then remembered herself and kept them moving as to not cause any further pedestrian traffic. Harry had a lopsided smirk on his face as she resumed to steer them towards their destination. “Anyway,” she continued, “we should be pretty safe here. It’s crowded and not many wizards come roaming about Muggle London, except my dad, maybe.”

“I hope you’re right, but I wouldn’t underestimate Rita Skeeter’s determination.”

“Good thing I’m not afraid of beetles,” she quipped back, shooting him a smile. “So now that you’re of age in both the Wizarding and Muggle world, I thought we’d exercise those freedoms in the most optimal way possible- aha!” She spotted the place and made a sharp turn down the block, Harry still holding her hand but tailing her, and stopped short at the entrance. “Ta-da!” 

Harry took a moment to catch his breath, then looked up at the sign above the door. Namco Funscape.

“No...way...” Harry gaped breathlessly. “No way.”

Ginny felt triumph beating in her chest. “Last month, you told me about all the things your aunt and uncle would take Dudley to do, or allow him to do at the house, all of which you were deprived...and I wanted to make that up to you and take you myself. But as an adult, it’s all up to you what we do. And you can even have a Muggle drink now that you got an ID last week.”

Harry continued to stare at the building front, then turned his shocked expression to Ginny, which quickly melted into the kind of warm smile that left Ginny immobile, like the one he had given her when they first exchanged ‘I love you’s, or when they played one-on-one Quidditch two weeks ago and she caught the Snitch right under his nose. He let go of her hand and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around her, fitting her snugly into his chest. She closed her eyes, content to just stay like that for the rest of the day if he wanted. But she was a good gift-giver, and she knew how eager he was to go in. “I will always be grateful for gifted snogs, interrupted or otherwise, but this is...really...” He released her from his grip and kissed her once hard, the second time more softly. “You’re the best. The best.”

“I am pretty amazing, aren’t I,” she joked, the look on his face making her heart flutter even more rapidly. 

“You are,” he confirmed, his smile widening. “Now c’mon, let me introduce you to all the fun Muggle activities I wish I could do as a kid that you will surely kick my arse in.”

She could hardly contain her own excitement seeing Harry display his own so openly, swinging the door open and striding through into the massive arcade and entertainment center. Harry explained to her the concept of tokens, and before he could pay for them to have any Ginny took out the stash of Muggle money she brought. She handed the clerk the bills before Harry could get a full objection out. “Ginny, let me-”

“It’s your birthday,” she stated simply. “Stop. Let me take care of it. You can waste all the money you’d like to pamper me in eleven days.”

“Fine,” he replied resentfully but seemed to get over it quick enough as the clerk handed him the cup of tokens. He took her through the rows of video games, and it was some of the most fun she ever had, having Harry teach her how to play and, as predicted, quickly dominating him in almost every game he taught her. The only one Harry continued to beat her in (though only marginally) was Pacman, but she demolished him in Skee-Ball on the first round, and the four others that followed. “Should’ve seen that one coming,” he snorted, trying and failing to hide the gleam in his eye he’d get when turned on by Ginny’s unexpected prowess as she successfully sunk her final ball into the top goal. “Bloody Chasers.”

“How could you forget, when my Quidditch Captain badge arrived just yesterday?” she beamed at him, bending down to collect her plethora of tickets. 

“You’re a usurper, is what you are,” Harry shook his head.

Ginny gasped dramatically as she pulled the last of her tickets up and shoved them into Harry’s hand. “Not usurper, rightful successor!” Harry laughed as he took the tickets and put them in their bucket. “You know, jealousy doesn’t look so good on you.”

Harry pulled her toward him and put both hands on her cheeks. “I’m only jealous of everyone who’s going to be there to watch you shine.”

Ginny felt her heart sink slightly. She knew it was a difficult decision for Harry to forgo the rest of his education, to not return to the Quidditch team for one final season, and most of all, to spend the better part of ten months apart from her after finally getting back together. But they both knew it was what made the most sense, and that they would be okay. He offered her a small smile before leaning in to kiss her. 

She sighed, his lips gone too quick. He chuckled, throwing an arm around her and leading them to another area of the arcade. They tried the jackpot machine game multiple times, and on the sixth attempt, Ginny hit the jackpot, which was 550 tickets. Harry and Ginny decided they had enough accumulated to go claim a prize, and Harry convinced Ginny to get something called a skateboard, which she was able to pick up rather quickly before they were reprimanded for riding it inside. Then Harry taught her ping-pong, which took her a bit longer to pick up, but by the end of it won two matches. All the playing left them famished, and so they went to the bar and got pizza, and Ginny convinced him to try Muggle beer. He eyed it skeptically, took a sip, swallowed, and made a face of disgust.

Ginny laughed heartily. “That bad?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, pushing it away. “I can’t believe anyone would drink this when butterbeer tastes so much better.”

She tugged at his collar and pulled his face close to hers. “Let me have a taste.”

“You’re not of age,” he said, looking at her curiously.

“Not that way,” she informed him, the suggestive grin forming on his lips stunted by Ginny’s crushing against them, prodding his mouth open, sweeping her tongue over his. She pulled away briefly, told him, “I can bear it,” then continued to kiss him.

She only got to have her fun for about thirty seconds, however, as they were interrupted by a loud and recognizable “Oi! You’re in public!”

They broke apart, and Ginny could see the blush spreading across Harry’s cheeks. “I thought interrupted snogs and overbearing brothers were gifts of the past,” he whispered quickly.

“I thought you were grateful for them, anyway?”

“The snog bit, yeah-”

Hermione’s voice cut in. “Sorry,” she winced, then glared at Ron. “Somebody still needs to learn manners.”

“Yeah, them!” he retorted, gesturing towards his sister and best friend. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, then walked forward to hug Harry. “Happy birthday, Harry! We didn’t mean to interrupt-”

“It’s okay, Hermione,” Harry told her as she let go. “I didn’t know you two were coming!”

“I meant to mention it,” said Ginny. “But I lost track of time. I wanted to try that bowling thing, and I thought it’d be fun to have them join us for a bit before we head back home for dinner with everyone.”

“We’re bowling?” Harry shouted in excitement. “Oh, man is this going to be fun. I’ve always wanted to bowl. I got to watch Dudley once but wasn’t allowed to play.”

Ron threw his arm around Hermione, pulling her to his side. “Alright, Hermione, we’re ready to learn.”

After three matches, the first as individuals (Harry just winning, all scores rather close), the second as boys versus girls (girls demolishing), and the third as a couple match-up (Harry and Ginny victorious), their arms were sore and they were ready to apparate back to Ottery St. Catchpole for Harry’s birthday. 

Ginny’s mother made an elaborate dinner and cake that, seeing Fred’s empty seat, Ginny could tell he did not quite feel he deserved but expressed his gratitude all the same. Most everyone he loved was there, including little Teddy, whose hair and eyes matched Harry’s throughout most of the meal, which made Ginny’s heart swell. As her mother insisted Harry stay the night, she helped him bring up all his presents to Ron’s room before turning in for the night herself, although not before making sure Ginny was in her own room with Hermione. And although Ron still could not hold back his disgust, he knew there was something to be gained for himself in having Harry and Hermione swap places once they were sure it was safe. Hermione quietly left, and a minute later, there was a light rap of knuckles against her door.

She flicked her wand and the door opened. Harry, his face lit in his own wand light, wearing his pajamas, stepped in quietly and closed the door behind him, clicking the lock. He walked over to Ginny’s bed, whispered ‘Nox,’ put his wand and glasses on her bedside table, and crawled into her small bed. 

“Hello,” he whispered, and she could see his smile in the dark as she pulled him closer to her. 

“Mm,” she sighed happily, intertwining her legs with his, firmly planting her face in the crook of his neck. “Good birthday?”

He wrapped his arms around her. “The best, I think. Today was...” he paused, and Ginny knew he struggled to verbalize his feelings sometimes, so when he uttered out a loving, “thank you,” and kissed the top of her head, she knew he was happy, and so her goal was achieved.

“So it surpasses last year’s gift, then?” she asked playfully.

“Well, I did receive the same gift this year too, earlier before bowling, didn’t I?”

“I suppose.”

Harry readjusted them and put a hand on her face, causing her to look up at him. “And as incredible as today was, I was hoping for that present in an uninterrupted format if you’d be so willing.”

Ginny laughed, melting at his touch, feeling pierced by the sparkle in his eyes, made brighter by the contrast of the dark. “How could I deny you such a gift?”

Harry grinned widely as Ginny drew her face closer to his. Their lips impossibly close, she whispered against his, “Happy birthday, Harry.”

[zwiezraczek]

Player [Blurb]

Part 2: Believer  - Part 3 - Part 4: Lover

~~~

Tied up in your basement. Tied up in your own fucking basement. The treatment of a a mole, of a snitch. Nothing else. Your hands hurt, felt sore with the rope tied around them, you weresure about the scars on your skin after all of this. But would there be an after all of this? You doubted.

Billy did his best, he did his best to protect the Ghosts. But every time he hesitated, rolled his eyes, refused to speak he could hear your voice, your muffled screams as you begged for them to stop. You cried all night long, you cried your eyes dry. They splashed your face with glasses of water, cold water, icy water as you gasped before opening your eyes to see Billy, right in front of you. He looked miserable, probably as miserable as you – with eyes half-closed, blood on his sweatshirt, a reddish face but still these gleaming eyes in the dark. Yet, he managed to smile, faintly as he caught your gaze.

A sweet metallic taste in your mouth reminded you that you were probably bleeding more than you thought you were. You breathed heavily as your father passed-by, avoiding your eyes, but he couldn't avoid you forever. And he knew it, because he looked at you. Somehow, behind his outraged expression you saw pain, regret, probably deception. And with a sight, he approached you, knelt in front of you and took your chin into his hand, much more delicately than he did yesterday as he pressed his thumb and index into your cheeks while Billy cried to make him stop, cried information, exposed himself. And now, you had pain in your eyes too, but more hate than pain.

“My only daughter,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb against your cheek in a cold and displeased tone hiding probably much more. “Why,” he asked, “why?” You refused to reply, looking down at your bare feet, and he began to caress your cheek with his hand. “I love you so much y/n, but I hate you so much at the same time...”

“Same here,” you coughed, you didn't intend to, but your throat was sore and dry.

“Here, drink some water,” he offered, taking a glass of water standing at the foot of your chair before putting it against your lips. And you drank, as if water was the most delicious beverage on earth.

“Thank you,” you said against your will, relieved yet angry at yourself. You couldn't stand the mixed feelings he aroused in your heart, you couldn't stand how poorly he treated people – children – and how poorly he treated Billy.

“You are still my daughter after all,” he murmured before standing up and going to talk to Billy.

~~~

“I will kill the youngster, I will fucking kill him,” One repeated endlessly as he paced back and forth in the room in which the Ghosts held an emergency meeting. Three day, three days without hearing from Billy. All because of this stupid mission.

“I will kill him too,” Seven added, “and then I'll kill myself for even listening to him when he told me to not shoot! He made a fucking fool out of me...!”

Two only gave them a dark look, her arms crossed on her chest as she glanced at Three who was typing something on the computer. The clicks of the keyboard made the silence unbearable, maybe even more than her teammate's complaints. Only Five sat in front of a coffee, her head resting against her hand as she looked down on the papers. She was furious, she spent nights looking for some medical records of this man, studying what she found, looking at Four's records to make sure how much he could handle without any proper care... And she pinned all that on the large board in their plan room. She felt exhausted, but she wouldn't feel relief until Four was here, with them.

“Listen,” Two finally spoke up, wanting to escape the endless silence she made herself, “we know we fucked up. Four wasn't the best choice for this mission, I should have...”

“Stop this,” One interrupted her almost violently. “I told him he was the perfect man for this because he knew everything about the house, because he was somehow linked to this and... Fuck, I was the one telling to cut the ties with the living world oh my fuck.”

“If you don't stop this, I'm going to explode,” Five added, and they all looked surprised at her. “We don't need to talk, we need to act and Three and I seem to be the ones to actually take the matters into our hands,” she said and Three hummed in approval.

“Fine, I'm looking the guy up in the CIA files,” Two said, before she sat next to Three and began to type herself.

“I'm going out,” Seven said, “I just... I need to be alone with all of this,” he stated. He felt guilty, absolutely guilty about this situation. He had to pull the trigger. He had to... But Four said that he shouldn't, so he listened to him, just like he did when his squad died. Just like that.

“Going out with you,” One said, not being able to handle the tension in the room himself.

~~~

You looked up at the ceiling, this gray ceiling made of concrete. You always have hated this basement, even more now. Everything smelt like humidity, and the things that the man your worked with one brought for you and Billy to eat weren't really helping to set a nice atmosphere. But at least, you had something to eat from time to time.

From time to time, they left you alone with Billy, far from you, as far as possible but you were still able to see him, hear him – and so was him, especially when they tortured you. You looked at him, trying to give him a reassuring smile, you tried your best with the corner of your cracked lips, and he smiled back, closing his eyes.

“Why are you doing this,” you asked him, your voice still weak but audible – thanks to the glass of water they made you drink earlier.

“BDSM kink,” he joked. And even in this situation he made you chuckle a bit, making your stomach hurt a bit from the punches you got. But it was worth it.

“You and your sick kinks,” you whispered. “You should have stayed quiet, my father wouldn't let me die, and you know that.”

“I know that, but I can't see you suffer anymore,” he admitted looking you right in the eye. “I watched you suffer because of me, I couldn't screw the things up again as I did three years ago.”

“You did the right thing back then.”

“I'm doing the right thing right now, protecting the one that never gave up on me.” You could see how his smile widened as he spoke about you, and about your support. You couldn't help yourself but smile too. Maybe too much, and at the worst moment because one of your ex-colleagues entered the room.

“Y/N is soft and flirts with the enemy,” he chanted mockingly, rubbing his hands.

“Fuck you,” you said, a rush of confidence running through your veins.

“Want to taste blood, little girl,” the man asked, standing tight in front of you as you looked up at him.

“Tasted so much blood in my life, wouldn't be a problem,” you retorted.

“Hey, you,” Billy interrupted and the man turned back, “why don't you try to hurt somebody your size?” He laughed. The man laughed before approaching Billy, a grin on his face.

“Because hurting you won't provide more information, pretty boy, but hurting her, over there,” he precised with a movement of his head towards you, “will make you speak and sing and even dance as we want you to. So no, I won't damage you more than we already did in the first place, I'll just watch you suffer ad I hurt this lady over there, once my superior you know.”

“You're a lucky bastard, you're so lucky that I don't have my gun right here, with me,” you managed to say in a much more audible voice than before, “you would be dead, just like this girl three years ago.”

“The one you killed because of your undying love for your so-called 'bestfriend',” he teased you as he tilted his head looking at you. “Don't make me laugh more than I already did when this clown spoke. Please, y/n, I thought you were better than that.”

Your blood boiled inside your veins as the man sat in the chair next to the exit and began to look at his phone, ignoring both of you. What annoyed you even more, was how accurate his words were. You killed her as a revenge, because Billy was your bestfriend, your soulmate, and losing him meant losing anything and everything – your sanity first and foremost. Finding him meant the same, just at the moment you found your stability through killing and partying, he stormed in your life again, just to fuck your emotions up and to remember you how much you suffered without him. But you couldn't be mad at him, because he explained everything to you, because he allowed you to see trough your father... You closed your eyes. What a fucking bad situation to be in.

~~~

“We're almost in,” Three said as One put a hand on his shoulder looking at the screen on which Three was working.

“So we're ready. Tomorrow, we strike.”

[thinger-strang]

Singing in the Shower and Other Sins (aka three times Steve was caught singing and the one time he wasn't)

@gideongrace this is for you 😚

(link to the version on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21394876 )

i.

Steve sings all the time. Loud and off key in a goofy sort of lovable way. He jams with Dustin on their way to school, dances around Scoops and Family Video when it's slow, uses anything and everything as a mic.

Which made it so weird when Robin walked into work to find Steve singing like, good.

He had his back to her with an armful of tapes. His voice was soft and he was gently bopping (so he didn't drop all the videos). But his voice was so good!

Robin leaned against the wall and just observed Steve for a moment. It was weird, almost wrong, to hear the correct sound notes come from him.

"Having fun there, Springsteen?"

She shouldn't have scared him, she knows that. But his face was so funny when spun around, barely holding onto his stack of tapes.

"Jesus, warn a guy, Buckley!" He snapped, running his free hand through his hair.

"You can sing."

"What?"

"You always sing bad when I'm around, but you can like actually sing! Like sing really good!"

"Oh, no I wasn't singing? That was...that was definitely just the radio, I can't sing for shit, you know that--"

"Nuh uh Harrington, I know your dirty little secret now! You've got pipes!"

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Rob." He started putting stuff away again. "You of all people know I can't sing to save my life."

"I just heard you, don't know why you're denying it."

"Whatever, go get your vest before Keith gets here." Steve nodded towards the break room door but smiled at her knowingly.

"Fucking knew it!" She shouted as she went to put her vest on. "Why are you trying to hide this magnificent gift God herself has bestowed upon you?"

Steve shrugged and handed her half his stack once she got back.

"Don't tell anyone, don't need you messing up what little cred I have left."

She flipped him off.

He stuck his tongue out at her.

Life went on.

ii.

Steve made the mistake of telling Dustin where the spare key to his front door was. Under the ceramic frog in the planter left of the door. But the kid was basically his little brother and he'd shown Steve where his spare key was the week before. So they were even now.

So Dustin let himself and the rest of the party into Steve's house for an impromptu hang out sesh. Mike, Lucas, and Max made a beeline for the kitchen to drop off the arm fulls of snack they had while Dustin showed Will and Jane around.

Jane had started going by "Jane" full time since the Hopper-Byers move and the party was supportive as always. And since their move, the party had had three? maybe four hang outs at Steve's. So a tour was necessary since they missed the preliminary Casa de Harrington party.

"Holy shit do you guys hear that?" Will whispered once they got to the second floor's landing.

The other two stopped and listened. They heard a shower running and a radio going. Nothing special. Dustin strained his ears.

"No way."

"'No way' what?" Lucas asked as he, Max, and Mike joined them.

"That's Steve singing in the shower!"

"What's so bad about him singing in the shower?" Jane asked.

"Steve can't sing to save his life!" Mike said, incredulously.

"He's not that bad guys," Max tried to defend him.

"Okay, I love the guy like a brother but he drives me to school everyday and no, he cannot sing." Dustin explained as they crept closer to the bathroom door.

The shower shut off and his voice became clearer. The party continued bickering until the door swung open. Steam billowed out and Steve sang a line until he noticed the gaggle of teenagers in his hallway.

"What the fuck guys."

"What the fuck yourself Steven!" Mike shot back.

"Yeah, are you serious? For like, almost a year I've had to listen to you screech along to the radio when you've had the voice of an angel this whole time?! That's just plain rude." Dustin crossed his arms dramatically.

"Angelic's a little generous, Henderson."

"Your voice is really pretty," Jane said in awe.

Steve blushed and wrapped his arms around his torso.

"Thanks kid. Hey, how's Missouri treating you guys?" Steve pulled his shirt from the floor and put it on.

"Pretty good, the school has a huge library and Will joined an art club!" Jane said excitedly.

Will nodded along with her, putting his hands into his hoodie.

"Oh that's awesome! Glad you guys like it up there--"

"Can we get back to the whole 'Steve can actually sing' thing? Because that's still blowing my mind," Lucas interjected, flailing his arms a little.

"Yeah, can you sing Whitney? Because those were some pretty high notes if my ears don't decieve me." Max grinned evilly.

"No, I can't sing Whitney, I can barely sing, remember?" Steve sounded like he was talking to toddlers.

"Dude, none of use are deaf, we all heard." Mike gave him an unimpressed look.

"Yeah, and that was Queen and you definitely hit all those high notes. You can totally sing Whitney!" Max laughed and nudged Will when he stifled a giggle.

"I can't believe I'm being mocked by a bunch of 10 year olds!"

"We're fifteen, Harrington," Dustin said sarcastically.

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Okay, can you shits get out of my room so I can get dressed? Don't feel like spending the day in a towel while you make fun of my singing abilities."

He started to herd them towards the stairs as they protested, claiming they weren't making fun, just confused as to why he would torture them with a fake awful voice.

When Steve came downstairs, Max pushed play on the tape player in the living room. "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" started playing and Steve turned red.

"This isn't fucking karaoke night you dweebs!"

But he started laughing when they all started throwing popcorn at him and he proceeded to dump snacks onto everyone else, starting an epic pre-movie night food fight.

iii.

Robin's parents were going to be out of town for the first time in a thousand years so, naturally, she was throwing a party.

It wasn't a typical high school rager, more like a get together between friends and absolutely no children, Steve!

So really it was just Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Barb, and Billy.

Steve and Billy came over early to help make food. Which translated to Steve making food while Billy sat on the couch and read, using the "I died for you bitches" excuse for the millionth time.

And ever since Robin had caught him singing at work, he became more and more comfortable singing around her. She didn't ask about him singing around Billy. So here he was, singing while mixing something together in a bowl. Like a goddamn housewife.

"If my parents were here they'd be so pleased I found a nice boy who knows what he's doing in the kitchen." She said as she measured some milk out for the brownies.

She could hear Billy snort from the living room over the "knowing what he's doing in the kitchen" comment.

Steve laughed and kicked at her shins.

Wham! came on and Steve's face lit up. And it was the yo-yo song, the best freaking one. And Robin was in band so her inntonation wasn't like awful, she definitely had the lungs for singing.

So they were singing along to George Michael in the Buckley's colorful kitchen while making brownies when the other three showed up.

"You can sing?" Barb asked with big eyes.

"You act like I've never sung in front you you before." Steve replied while hunching over, self conscious.

"Yeah but normally it's more...pitchy," Nancy offered.

"We're not judging your anything man, you've got a great voice," Jonathan filled in quickly. "Didn't really believe Will when he said Steve could sing."

He said that last part mostly to Nancy, but everyone heard it.

And Robin was kind of done. Because Steve told her, one time when they were hotboxing his car, that he sang bad on purpose because his dad thought it was "faggy" to be able sing that well. That he sounded like Freddie and George and Bowie in the worst way. And she knew he was bi, knew he got embarrassed when people started talking about him singing because of what his dad said.

She was about to call them out when Billy flipping Hargrove beat her to it.

"Leave him alone, you're just jealous your pipes aren't as good," Billy said in a monotone voice from the couch.

"It's fine, Billy, they're--"

"No he's right, lay off."

Nancy and Jonathan at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Barb walked into the kitchen to help out.

"Your voice really is good. Didn't mean to sound so shocked before. You were just...really good. And I totally remember you singing into a hairbrush that one time? And your voice cracked all over the place?" Barb bumped her hip into Steve's, wiggling her eyebrow.

"Oh my god, I almost lost my voice from that! God, that was forever ago, cannot believe you remember that."

"Yeah that's what made me realize 'King Steve" was like an actual human boy, not this entity the entire school and Nancy made you out to be."

Billy migrated from the couch to the counter when he heard the words "King Steve" and put his book on the counter top.

"When was this?" And thank god for Billy because Robin wanted to ask so bad what they were talking about.

"Oh Steve threw a little party back in junior year to woo Nancy and he was a little buzzed and was trying to make her laugh by singing along to, what was it?" Barb turned to smirk at Steve.

"ABBA, it's was ABBA."

Billy rolled his eyes and mumbled "of course" as Robin cackled.

"Very on brand, dingus."

"Yeah but he overexaggerated the awfulness and his voice cracked, like, painfully. Like, I felt it, it was so bad!"

Steve scrunched up his nose at the memory and laughed. Robin and Billy started laughing too and Barb continued telling embarrassing stories about Steve that the other two had never heard before.

+i.

Steve jolted awake to a loud clattering sound coming from the other end of his room.

"How many times do I have to tell you to clear off your fucking desk, Harrington," Billy stage whispered angrily.

"How many times do I have to tell you to use the fucking front door, Hargrove."

Steve hopped out of bed to meet Billy by the window. He scanned his face for bruises which made Billy rolls his eyes.

"Can't a guy just visit his boyfriend in the middle of the night without anything being wrong?"

"Yeah but you only sneak in through my window when you've had a bad night, you dramatic fuck." Steve cupped Billy's face with one hand and let him lean into it.

Comfortable silence enveloped them before Billy broke it.

"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled.

"Okay." Steve let Billy drop his head into his shoulder. " Do you wanna talk about it or go to bed?"

Because "couldn't sleep" is generally code for nightmares.

Billy shrugged, shoulder bumping Steve's chin a little, and Steve nodded, tugging him towards the bed.

He helped Billy get down to just his boxers and a tee before getting under the covers. Steve positioned them so that Billy was half laying in Steve with his ear over his heart and their legs tangled. Because Steve liked the pressure and Billy liked listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

They laid like that for a minute, getting comfortable and used to each other's warmth.

And Billy had told him, a long time ago, that his mom used to sing to him when he couldn't sleep. And that was before Billy knew Steve could actually sing. That was what made Steve sing for real in front of him.

So, on nights like this, Steve sang.

He started humming the intro to "Going to California", moving his fingers in time up and down Billy's back. Billy let out a sigh and pressed himself closer into Steve's chest.

So Steve sang into the dark of his bedroom, chasing away monsters; the kind that live in your house and the kind that live underground, until Billy drifted off and pulled Steve with him into a warm and deep sleep that only comes when wrapped around someone you love.

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 14.19: “Jack in the Box”

THEN: Eh, you know all this. Oh, wait, here's something interesting - a reminder that Naomi was overcome by the Empty slime. Which reminds me of my theory that Naomi and/or Duma might actually be the Empty Entity. Hmmm. Oh, and also, all the Jack stuff.

NOW: There's a bunch of hunters in the bunker, drining beer and looking at pictures of Mary and her stuff on the map table. Including the picture Sam burned. Well, I'm glad it wasn't the only copy. And whatever these rings and calipers are that are always on the map table, apparently they're permanent, because they weren't removed for this little memorial display. Also, John's journal is part of the display, and I know they gave it to Mary to read, but still, it's John's. This bothers me.

So, are these surviving AU hunters? If not, that means the Winchesters have opened the bunker up to every hunter they know (and revealed its location to everyone they know), which is... not what I would have done. TFW makes an entrance (why were they not in there with their guests) and Dean thanks them for coming and makes a little speech but I'm finding it real hard to concentrate on Dean right now because LOOK AT SAM'S SHIRT. LOOK AT IT. It's CLOSE-FITTING and it's NOT PLAID and whatever awful things this episode does (and my completely unspoiled prediction is that IT WILL DO AWFUL THINGS), we at least got this.

I strongly suspect this is actually Jared's shirt.

Dean informs the gathered that they missed the pyre, sorry. And he mentions that some of them fought Michael with her in the other world so they ARE AU hunters! Or at least some of them! Well, that's good to know. Sam doesn't have to feel personally responsible for killing everyone who came over, just a handful. Including the only one who had a name, and probably that guy who called him Chief (sob), but some of them remain. Anyway. Dean gives his eulogy (and Sam's not the only worth a second look in this scene, because Dean looks pretty amazing as well) and they drink beer and then an AXE FLIES IN OUT OF NOWHERE, SLOWLY AND AWKWARDLY SPIRALING INTO A HUNTER'S HEAD. People seem surprised, but it's the mild kind of surprise you'd get if he threw his beer at somebody, not if an axe suddenly appeared embedded in his head. The thrower of the axe walks in - it's New Bobby. WELL.

Title card! Bobby informs me that it was a hatchet, not an axe, and he wants it back. (Sidebar: It literally never occurred to me to think about the difference between a hatchet and an axe until earlier this week when I was listening to a murder podcast that specified someone was killed with one, not the other.) He also tell us that the "hunter" was actually a wraith "from a nest your mom and I busted up" and SEE, GUYS? This is why you don't invite people to the bunker. Now a bunch of wraiths probably know where it is. And we know the warding is a joke. Cas thinks Mary would have appreciated a monster at her memorial. I don't think Cas knows Mary very well but whatever.

Bobby asks Sam how he and "the other one" are doing, and we watch Dean pack up Mary's belongings (including John's journal? that's going away?) and Sam says he "seems to be doing okay" which is, of course, how they operate. No one asks how Bobby's doing, even though he had a relationship with Mary too (and over the course of her life probably spent as much time with her as Sam did, when you come right down to it), but Bobby says he's not into public displays of grief anyway, and Dean is probably the same (which is true, except for when it's very very not true).

Sam suggests they drink the scotch Ketch left (and I wonder if this means Ketch came for the memorial, and left some scotch, or if he's referring to a bottle from a previous season that somehow remained through all those events that really would have called for some serious scotch-drinking) and talk about Mom. Dean points out that they have been talking about Mom and stalks out and leaves Sam sad.

Sam and Bobby and Cas settle for beer instead, and Dean walks in just as Bobby asks "what exactly happened to her, cause I'm hearing, the kid." Oh, that's interesting that they wouldn't have given him the whole story. Or maybe it's not. Maybe it makes sense that they'd keep things vague, tell everyone she "died on a hunt." Dean needs a drink, but not in the bunker. Sam tells him they need to talk about Jack, and he says "we will" and quickly makes his escape. Bobby and Cas have this funny exchange.

I liked the kid. We fought together. But there's only way this ends.

Bobby's right. We have to find Jack and help him.

What?

Hee! Cas feels Jack might not realize what he did was wrong, and Bobby astutely points out that if he didn't realize it was wrong, that's kind of a big problem, because if Kelly's influence has been burned away, that means Lucifer is all that's left. Bobby means to hunt him down. "An unstoppable monster who don't know right from wrong gets put down." Um, Bobby, let's consider the unstoppable part of that declaration. (Also, should someone point out to Bobby that Jack accidentally killed someone even back when he did have a soul? Probably not.)

Cut to Jack, who is still? again? at an abandoned warehouse or factory or something. He's remembering what he did, and wishing his mother was there to tell him what to do. Oh, she's not here, but Hallucidad is. He tells Jack that the Winchesters don't care about him, he was just a pet and a weapon, and again, it hurts knowing that this is Jack's subconscious saying these things. Jack thinks he can explain and apologize, and if that's so, Jack, then why didn't you do that when they caught you raising Mary's not-corpse? No, says Hallucifer, they hate you.

Cut to Dean, sitting outside somewhere in the dark, crying.

This is not okay. I mean, it is, but it's not.

Heaven. (yawn.) Cas again tells Duma that he wants to see Naomi, and again she denies him. It turns out Naomi is in "a very small cell" because Heaven was invaded under her watch. I didn't think they had enough spare angels around to lock one up just because they don't think she's a good leader. She might be a great follower. (Yeah, probably not.) Cas tells her he needs help looking for Jack, who has burned through his soul and is no longer being protected by the Winchesters. Hmmm, she says, this is very useful information to have. Internally. Out loud, she tells Cas she'll see what she can do, which he of course takes as an offer to help. Oh, Cas.

Bunker. Sam's working at his computer when Dean comes back. Sam's wearing a different shirt. I don't know if that means it's the next day, or just that he changed out of his nice funeral shirt. He asks Dean how he's doing, but Dean ignores that and asks what Sam's doing.

Trying to find Jack. We've gotta find him before Bobby and his crew, because if they find him first -

He's gonna kill them all.

... I don't know.

Oh, Sam, you DO know. You are obviously concerned about Bobby et al killing Jack, not the other way around. And it breaks my heart. Sam also wants to talk about Mary and the fact that they don't have to rely on faith to know Mary's in Heaven, because they personally know Heaven and angels are real. Dicks, but real. He says Mary's in a great place, with John, because again we're forgetting or denying what we know about Heaven. Dean, the eternal ray of sunshine, points out that there wasn't enough of Mary left to bring back to life even if they wanted to.

Back to Jack, who has a surprise visitor. It's Duma! Oh, cool, she's helping Cas find him, just like she said she would! Ha ha ha nope. (Sidebar: How did Duma find him, and why doesn't Cas have the same ability? Discuss.) He remembers her from his trip to Heaven that one time he died. She tells him Mary's death wasn't his fault, and he deserves redemption after his mistake, because he has "a glorious destiny." She tells him Heaven has fallen apart since God left, and no one gives them the respect they deserve, but Jack, YOU can save Heaven and make the world better and wouldn't that make Sam and Dean happy? Their first stop on the Make The World Better Tour is to turn a famous God denier into a pillar of salt. Oh, irony. (Also, he's safe from ghosts now, so. Bonus?)

Bunker. Cas is telling the Winchesters that Heaven promised to "make every effort" to find Jack. Which 1) isn't exactly what we saw happening, unless you're naive enough to think "I'll see what I can do" means "I'll make every effort", and b) even if that is what Duma said, as Dean points out, "Oh, Heaven promised? Great, well we should take that to the bank." But Cas thinks Heaven has as much reason to want to find Jack as they do. Which is true. But doesn't mean they're going to turn him over to you, Cassie.

Coincidentally, Sam has just read about Professor Pillar of Salt. "Why does that sound familiar?" Dean asks. You know, I don't know the Bible very well. If a particular event didn't show up in "Jesus Christ Superstar" or "The Ten Commandments," I'm not likely to be familiar with it. And yet I know about Lot's wife turning into a pillar of salt. And I've never been to Heaven or met an angel. So.

Cas explains the story and says no ordinary angel could turn a human into salt. Sam reads another story about a dishonest televangelist (yeah, I know, that's redundant) who had a crevice open in the ground under her and swallow her up, and again Dean's not familiar with the story, but this time I'm not either. But Cas knows it's from the book of Numbers. Allegedly, only Jack or Chuck himself could perform these acts.

Heaven. Duma tells Jack he's doing excellent work, and he can help bring Heaven back to its previous glory.

Sam and Dean will like that?

Words can't begin to express how Sam and Dean will feel.

Hee!

So let's talk about what's going on here. I appreciate that they're framing this as Jack trying to get back into Sam and Dean's good graces. In fact, I'm a little hopeful at this point. If Jack-who-is-being-used-by-Heaven is the Big Bad, doesn't that mean stopping the Big Bad could just mean they rescue him from Duma's manipulation? Maybe? (Yeah, I know. But a girl can dream.)

Anyway. Duma's next task for Jack is to create more angels. She tells him he can't make them out of thin air, but if a human is "predisposed" to it, he might be able to forge them into an angel. Oooooh, this opens up some chilling possibilities about who could be turned into an angel. But it turns out he's not going after anybody named Winchester. He's just sitting on the throne "where your grandfather received prayers" (and where your father sat) and listening to prayers. (Sidebar: Why hasn't Sam tried to communicate with Jack by praying to him? Discuss.)

For whatever reason, he hones in on one particular group of worshippers who are about to discuss the book of Samuel (hee!) with Pastor Ames. Jack zaps into the room, asks if they meant it when they said they wanted to go to Heaven, and shows them his wings. Sold! Pastor Ames missing that demonstration, so when he comes in and calls Jack a liar, Jack hits him with another Biblical curse: "he was eaten by worms and breathed his last." Pastor Ames falls to the ground with worms popping out of him everywhere, and Jack and his future angels disappear.

Hospital. Guys, look at the suits! Have they ever worn such narrow pants? What is going on here? Someone new in the wardrobe department?

Mama like.

Agents Kilmister, Clark, and Taylor (hee) are visiting bandaged-up Pastor Ames, who identifies a photo of Jack. They leave, and Cas recites the relevant verse and Sam says, surprised, "so you think this is another Bible thing?" AS IF THAT WASN'T WHY THEY'RE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE, and as they leave, we see that Pastor Ames is not over his worm infestation after all.

Back at the bunker, Dean tells Sam that he didn't want it to come to this, but they have no choice. Come to what? What's behind the door in room 5B? It's the thing we all knew was coming - the box! (And if you didn't see it coming, the title of this episode clearly gave it away, which is why I consider titles of unaired episodes to be spoilers.) Sam, who is clearly not behind this plan in any way shape or form, points out that they don't have the ability to force Jack into the box, and he won't go in there of his own free will.

But he might. He might if he only has to stay in there long enough for us to finish the spell to fix his soul.

Spell? What spell? There is no spell.

*We* know that.

Oh, no, this is not good, and Sam already hates it.

... So, you want to lie to him.

No, I mean, I *want* Zeppelin to get back together. But what I *need*, what *we* need, is to stop Jack. Big difference. But here's the deal; we both gotta sign off on it. This might be our only shot, and if he even catches a whiff that this is a scam, he's off into the wind.

Exactly. Now, how do you think he's not gonna know something's up?

Because you're gonna be so damn sincere -

Me? Why me?

Because you've always been in his corner. You're his go-to guy. Sam, if you reach out, he'll come. If I do it, after what happened to Mom, I could lose him. I *will* lose him.

Oh no, no, no, Sam is SO not on board with this plan. Because the worst thing that could happen is that it doesn't work, and the second worst thing is that it does work. Dean is so calmly insistent, and Sam is so unhappy, and his FACE when Dean tells him HE will be sincere is just killing me, and no matter what I think about this episode or or this entire story arc, I love what the guys are doing with this scene.

Maybe it's just me, but I'm finding a silver lining here.

Sam sits down at the library table and begins praying to Jack, which doesn't answer my question of why they haven't already tried communicating with him that way. In fact, it makes me ask it harder. He tells him that they're family, and bad things happen in families but they want to get through it, they want to be like they were before. Jack hears Sam's prayer as he assembles his future angels. Meanwhile, Cas has barged his way into Heaven to rescue Jack, having figured out that Heaven has no mercy and angels do bad things, and Cas? How is this POSSIBLY news to you? Duma threatens to end Mary and John's happy little afterlife together (Is this confirmation that they really are sharing a Heaven, even though his name isn't on the door? Maybe. Do I accept it? Not necessarily) so Cas stabs her. Well. We're down to, what, ten angels now? He calls for Jack, but Jack's already gone, having just appeared in the bunker.

Jack tells Sam and Dean he's been working with Heaven, and "if it helps, I regret it... the accident."

Again, the guys do a beautiful job with this scene. Even if it's an awful, awful scene, they're acting the hell out of it. Sam is as anxious as he was when he was trapped in a cell with Jack the day he was born, the way his hands twitch when he gets up from the table and circles behind Dean, and then carefully places himself between Dean and Jack, and how he physically reacts when Jack steps closer, and they're both keeping their distance and moving so carefully, and then there's the way Dean is practically unblinking and is very obviously working SO HARD not to spontaneously combust, staying practically motionless and keeping his voice even, although anyone could tell he's absolutely BOILING under the surface from the look on his face and his tone of voice every time he says the accident. All of this is amazing.

But yeah, it is also an awful scene. Because Jack isn't guilty or apologetic at all. He's actually kind of smug about working with Heaven and making angels, and very condescending about regretting "the accident," and I just don't think he would be there. I think he would tell them how sorry he was, and that he tried to fix it, and basically everything he said to Hallucifer. He wouldn't say "I knew you'd understand" when they tell him they forgive him. His blind self-assurance would make sense if it came at the end of a 2- or 3-episode arc, where Duma had spent more than a day telling him how awesome he was. So while I love Sam and Dean in this scene, love them to pieces, Jack is just... ugh. Beyond OOC. Moving on. Dean tells Jack they're working on a way to fix his soul, and they want to keep him safe (from having another ACCIDENT) in the meanwhile. Sam oh-so-tentatively puts a hand on Jack's shoulder and dear GOD he is so afraid and I LOVE IT.

Again, quite a silver lining to this dark little raincloud.

They take him to the room with the magic box, which Dean claims is "actually pretty comfortable." Dean stays still and Sam fidgets and Jack says "okay" and climbs into the box. "How long before I can come out?" he asks. Sam is more and more fidgety as he says "not too long," and Dean is like stretched rubber band about to snap as he holds himself back from slamming the lid down. "Jack, we got this," Sam lies. "Okay," Jack says again, and he lies down and they didn't even put a pillow in the damn box, why does he think this is okay, why does he think they're working in his best interest if they didn't even give him a damn pillow? Dean shuts the lid and rushes to close the locks and Sam hates this, hates it so much.

Shhh. Don't even listen. Just turn the sound down and enjoy the pretty, pretty angst.

Alone in the box, Jack calls to the Winchesters, but they're already shutting the door to room 5B. They move to the kitchen to finish off Ketch's scotch and talk about the future.

So what do we do now? Just go on, with Jack locked up in there forever?

We have to.

I don't know if I can do that.

Dean ignores Sam's shaky voice and decides to talk about the scotch and sure, we all recognize this is Dean's way of coping. Pretend it's not happening, pretend it doesn't bother him. Because I have to think that, no matter how much he wants revenge against Jack, he understands that being locked in that box forever is still a horrible fate. (A fate Dean was willing to accept, but still.) Sam, meanwhile, needs to talk, just like he needed to talk about Mary.

You know, I never thought it would end like this, with Jack.

Sammy, we knew from the beginning it was a long shot with him.

Yeah. Yeah. But, long shots are kind of our thing.

So let's talk about Sam's guilt. His beautiful, beautiful guilt. Not only over tricking someone he loves into being locked up in a box forever, but for bringing Jack into their lives in the first place. And yet. Jack has always been unstoppable, hasn't he? So if Sam hadn't opened his humongous heart and taken him in, he would have been out there alone. No one teaching him how to use and control his powers, no one keeping him away from Lucifer. He would have been an unstoppable enemy instead of an unpredictable ally. Sam did the right thing, even though it ended bad. Because it was always going to end bad.

Have I mentioned that I could watch an entire episode that was just Dean drinking?

Back in room 5B, Jack's starting to panic, and still calling for Sam and Dean. They don't show up, but Hallucifer does (oh god, I want to see Sam find out he basically locked Jack in that box with Lucifer) and informs Jack he's been played.

In the kitchen, Cas arrives with the news that Duma has been manipulating Jack, and they really need to find him. The guys are all, oh, whoops, forgot to call you, he's here, locked in the box.

Jack gets glowy eyes and tries to break out of the box, but nothing happens.

Cas is horrified that the guys still plan to keep Jack in the box, even knowing his latest acts were due to being manipulated. Sam says "That's the problem. If he's that easily manipulated, he's too dangerous to be out of the box." Oh, no he doesn't. Instead, Dean says "He agreed to it." Yes, in much the same way Sam agreed to be Gadreel's vessel. You keep telling yourself that, Dean. In fact, Dean is trying to claim that deep down, Jack knows it's best. Oh, no, no you don't. Cas points out that Dean manipulated Jack as much as Duma did.

(Sidebar: I'm convinced that Sam would be able to forgive Jack. Because of his endless capacity for forgiveness, and because he sees himself as being in Jack's shoes at a different point in his life. Dean, on the other hand, would not. Because Dean is a normal human being when it comes to forgiveness, and because Dean puts loyalty to family above everything else.)

Box. Jack tries harder. Lucifer laughs. The box glows.

Kitchen. The arguing is interrupted by an earth-shattering kaboom. Things fall off shelves. The red emergency lights and klaxon come on. TFW leaps up and runs to room 5B. The room is a smoke-filled wreck and a figure with glowing gold eyes is walking out of the red-tinged smoke. "Jack," Sam gasps.

Duh duh duuuuuhhhh! Next week, Cas makes Dean write I knew a nephilim was more powerful than its angel parent but I assumed the box would be stronger than Jack anyway 100 times on the blackboard.

Okay, the bad happened, as we all figured it would. But let's talk about the good. Jack's not locked in the box forever. That's a relief - it would have been a very unsatisfactory conclusion. And the guys looked extraordinary. And there was so much emotion, both the tightly-controlled type, and the worn-on-his-sleeve type, and I love them both. Honestly, considering what happened in this one, and who wrote it, it was a lot better than I expected. A lot better than it could have been. (Will I go read your reactions now and see that every single one of you disagrees with me? Quite possibly.)

Next week is the next-to-last "Carry On Wayward Son."

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

[itoshit]

Giving them privacy I went into my room, trying to calm the rapid beatings of my heart. I fucking wanted to smash her face in the wall, no jokes. Who the hell she thought she was to talk to me like that?

Brushing my teeth again I checked the time. Almost 20 minutes have gone by, their friends would surely arrive soon.

Re-entering the living room, I could hear Vee and Natalie whispering shouting at each other, and clearing my throat, they turned to me.

Are they soon here?

Yes.

Raising an eyebrow at Natalie, I looked at Vee.

Vee are you okay?

I am no worries

Giving me a smile to comfort me, she didn't even look at me in the eyes. What was going on at the end?

I really need to go but I also want to wait for the girls to arrive so I'm just gon-

No! You can go, they don't want to see you, too scared of you. If could just... leave? It would be better for us all

Hm? The hell are you talki-

Listen to Nat please Manji'?

... Okay. Well then, just send me a message when they're leaving okay baby? Will come back right after.

Nodding, Vee waved at me. I wasn't going to kiss her again, I knew that Natalie would prevent me from doing so anyway.

Taking my keys I left my place, closing the door behind me. Getting up in my car, I smiled.

Vee will have a surprise.

Going to Shibuya, I parked and strolled in the busy streets. I had two goals in mind today. To find a Christmas gift, and to do... something else.

I checked many shops but none of them looked interesting enough. I didn't even know Vee that much when I thought of it. I didn't know if she had any siblings, her favourite color, her favourite weather... nothing. But we had all the time of the world to get to know each other more, and I was looking forward to it. I knew the situation wasn't the best for her. I took her freedom away, but it was only to protect her.

Throwing a glance at the clothes shops, I stumbled upon a cute coat. She didn't have one, that would be a good start. I knew her size too, so I bought it. It wasn't too personal though and I didn't like that. I wasn't a man of emotions but I guessed I could try for her.

And then, I found the perfect gift. I recalled her talking about her favourite artist, and they were miraculously on a tour, the last date being Tokyo, mid-January.

Here I go, the perfect gift.

An hour after, and still no news from Vee, I entered the shop I wanted to go to.

Hey what can I do for you today?

I'd an appointment, the name is Sano. At 4pm

Ooh yes Mister Sano come come! What will it be today?

Could you dye my hair in black please? It's my natural colour and I'm kinda sick of the blond

Clapping her hands excitingly at my request, the hairdresser nodded happily at me.

Of course! You wanna get your hair cut too?

No! Please not the hair.

Okay then sit here, someone will come for you shortly!

Nodding at her, I sat and waited.

Few hours after, I exited the hair salon. I just wanted to go back home and see Vee again, to show her and be with her.

Thank you come back again!

Waving at her I left the place and directed myself to my car. Vee hasn't contacted me yet, almost four hours after I left. It was now 8pm, and taking my car again, I drove to my penthouse.

In the elevator I rearranged my hair in the mirror. Black hair definitely looked better on me. Turning the key in the lock, I noticed that it was already opened.

Frowning, I pushed the door slowly.

Vee baby? I'm back!

But no one was in the living room. No noises from the bedrooms and the bathroom too. Something was off. Walking quickly down the hall to my room, she wasn't here.

I could feel my breath starting to be irregular, and reaching her bedroom, the bags fell on the floor. The drawers, the shelves, were empty of her belongings. There wasn't anything left.

Vee left me. She left. Falling on my knees, a hand over my heart, I was trying to find oxygen but my lungs were constricted. I was having anpanic attack. Another person leaving me. She left me. Alone.

And then, nothing. I closed my eyes, forehead pressed against the cold floor. I was used to it. Used to being alone. After all, loneliness was my best companion.

-Mikey

So we chose pain today? 🙃

WAAAIT BABY I CAN FIX THIS JUST WAIT!

Natalie had done it now. She wanted Mikey to suffer and she wanted to use me to do it, packing up all my stuff so I could move in with her and Sanzu at his apartment. It was all annoying to me. She was treating me as if I was a child, someone who wasn’t consciously deciding to stay with Mikey, to be with Mikey. I wasn’t naïve. I wasn’t pretending to know what’ll happen to us after the Yamaguchi issu was done with. In fact, I braced myself with the fact every morning I woke beside him.

Once he was through with protecting me, Mikey had no obligation to me, and with the way our lives were so completely different… I don’t know how we’d make it work without endangering the other person. I knew Mikey was selfish, but I also knew he was selfless and according to him, people had died because he lived. I couldn’t imagine what the thought of me dying did to him, if he even imagined it at all. I surely didn’t. It scared me too much, that Senju incident was the closest he ever came to it, and that was the closest I’d ever want him to go.

To me this entire spectacle was a dramatic way for Natalie to endanger her life. Mikey was patient with her, but only because she was my friend. I had seen him murder people who were working under him with no remorse. I knew his patience with her only ran so thin. If he were to find out that she’d done this… it’d run out completely. So I went to call him while she was packing my things, trying to tell him to come home early so his presence could stop Nat from doing something she’d regret, but she must’ve picked up on it and took my phone away from me. I let her, but only because I had a plan of my own. Scribbling a small note of where we’d be, I left it under Mikey’s pillow just before Natalie dragged me out of the house. I know how bad it must’ve looked, and I could only pray Mikey scoured the house looking for me and found the letter before he jumped to conclusions.

The ride to Sanzu’s made me jumpy. Every five seconds I turned my head to see if Mikey’s car was following behind us, heart sinking when it wasn’t. Nat looked completely calm which I just couldn’t get considering she was fucking with Mikey. Her face was completely rid of fear and nervousness. She was lax.

Hey, Vee, she called after watching me look behind me for the umpteenth time. You wanna know why I really hate Mikey?

I was annoyed she’d asked me that, considering it was something I was trying to figure out the entire fucking time. Yes.

Because he brought you into this.

Not this again. Natalie, you already told me-

I’m not finished. He brought you into this, and because of that I had to use you.

My blood ran cold. Use me? Nat, what the fuck are you talking about?

She just smiled at me, eyes suddenly filled with a coldness that I wasn’t used to, and one I was also so familiar with. Like the one she used to give me before all of this. The one she gave me in the club that night I met Mikey. You know I’m still looking for my father?

Your dad? Didn’t Mikey agree to help you look for them?

Yes, they haven’t gotten back to me though.

Why didn’t you ask Sanzu to check on it?

Sanzu’s still on probation from Yamaguchi affairs for nearly slipping up with me. Mikey assigned another exec to gather information on my father. Some fucker named Ran. He hasn’t gotten back to me, yet. Neither of them have. Her lips twitch. I don’t know what Ran does in his spare time, but I know that Mikey’s sure been busy lately.

Embarrassment and guilt flushed through me at the same time. Was I really the reason why Nat hadn’t gotten info about her dad yet? Hand me my phone, I’ll call Mikey myself. I tried to reach for the phone but she smacked my hand away. Nat what are you doing?

She just continued on, talking while looking out of the window. I was fine looking for my dad myself. I couldn’t trust anybody else with it. I knew they’d disappoint. I used anyone and everyone to get information about him all these years. I became an escort. Hell, I even became a spy. All to find him. That’s why I couldn’t tell you about this life, Vee. Because you’d be in it, either as a spy yourself, or as somebody I’d have to use.

Dread wormed its way through my gut. My ears rang. Goosebumps peppered my skin. I had an inkling on what she was trying to imply, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. It was too painful. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to her next, because the next thing I heard was the screeching of tires and car honks. I smelt the burning of rubber.

Brace yourselves! Our cab driver screamed right before the car barreled into us.

It was kinda funny. I watched several shows and movies where car accidents happened. They never quite captured the real thing. Glass flew everywhere and caught wherever it could: skin, hair, beneath the nails. Your body was thrown around the small space like it weighed nothing. Your life flashed before your eyes, or for some people, it ended.

I didn’t know which part I landed in when I opened my eyes. My head felt so light and my body so heavy I almost thought I could very well be dead. Something sticky trickled down the side of my face. I didn’t move to inspect it. Instead I looked around, finding the driver’s neck bent at an odd angle as his head was lodged in his steering wheel. He was obviously dead. Natalie, though nose was smeared with crimson, had a shallow breathing pattern to her chest. We lied there, dying or struggling to live for God knows how long until I felt a jolt—somebody was trying to open the car door. But I heard no sirens. Was this a civilian? Could it even be Mikey?

The answer was neither. The answer was much worse. When the door had managed to be ripped open, a man incredibly unfamiliar and terrifying smiled down at me showing me yellowing teeth.

Well it looks like our Natalie was right, the dead girl lives after all.