#it's just freaking me out. i've done everything i can to prepare and now it's just trying to move on yet i can't

[feytouched]

anxiety on max. doesn't help that i've been nauseous and feeling phantom quakes ever since

[lvis44]

Freak Like That // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Angst, Kind of Cheating? (depends on how you look at it), Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Not Edited/Proofread

Word Count: 8.9k+

Summary: Seeing him again shouldn't be as hard as it is, but the universe has funny ways of making sure you end up back in his arms.

Notes: I'm aware I said this was coming like 3 weeks ago but your girl has her first corporate job that has been much more demanding week by week so I've been busy!! I toyed with turning this into more of a fic so if you're interested in a pt.2 of them LMK. Sweet Escape Epilogue is still on its way but has turned into a bit of a stand alone fic within a chapter, don't hate me, or maybe you'll love me for it. I didn't proofread this and wrote part of it while I was a tad bit drunk, oopsie! Love you all!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

It had taken everything in you to move on from Lewis. You had done everything in your power to forget him, how he felt, how good he was to you, but the thought of him always lingered. You would have been a fool to ever think that anything could ever truly happen between the two of you, you were mature enough to know it was always just sex, it would always be just sex. That didn’t mean you never fantasized about how it would feel to be loved by him. It was never a relationship between the two of you, there was never any commitment from him. He had been more of a fuck buddy, a sugar daddy in many senses. He was older than you, detached, and loved to shower you with gifts. You only ever had his attention in private, and when you did he made you see stars. Lewis had always managed to unlock something within you that you didn’t know existed, bringing alive senses you’d never felt. He taught you things about your body and needs that you had been so naive to. No one had ever been able to compare to him. Parting from him had been one of the most difficult tasks you had ever been faced with, but you knew the agreement between the two of you wasn’t sustainable, you were only ever destined for heartbreak if you continued with him. You had done so well for the last year, ignoring his texts, doing your best to avoid his heavy presence online. Him being in the same room as you however, was something that you were not prepared for. He looked ethereal, his beige suit jacket showing off just a peak of his chest, enough to force the images back into your head, his tattoos glistening above you as he wears you out. He has one braid hanging perfectly in front of his face, all you can think of is how his braids felt tickling your neck when he would pant dirty words into your sticky skin.

“Y/N? You okay darling?” The voice that came from beside you startled you. When you looked to your side, your boyfriend was looking at you with concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, sorry about that, just zoned out for a second.” You try to fake laugh it off, not wanting him to pry.

He continues to look suspicious but doesn’t press any further, instead seamlessly transitioning into a conversation with one of the businessmen standing with him. You find your attention returning back to where Lewis had stood, his attention now fully on you. His smirk is knowing as he drags his eyes shamelessly up and down your body. You have to use every ounce of power in yourself to pull your eyes away from him as one of your boyfriends business partners directs a question to you. You put your fake smile on, engaging in boring conversation as you do your best to ignore the strong presence that is Lewis. You had been worried that one day you would run into him, your boyfriend working in the fashion industry made it almost inevitable.

You managed to stay relatively strong throughout the night, the champagne helping immensely. Lewis had disappeared into the crowd and you had done your absolute best not to look for him. You spent your evening tailing behind your boyfriend, being introduced to random men that you assumed worked in the same circles as him. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your lower back throughout most of the night, the only acknowledgement that you were even really there. He was a fine man, he had taken his time winning you over, taken you on romantic dates, but the spark still wasn’t there, and the arguments were becoming more and more frequent. You knew he cared about you, treated you well, but he was simply the safest option, and he was getting sick of your lack of interest in his work. You were growing increasingly tired of being his arm candy, using you to show off to his business partners. The intimacy lacked passion, nothing matched the raw passion you had with Lewis once upon a time. It wasn’t fair to compare him to Lewis, he was actually there to be your partner, not just a fun time, but it was almost impossible. 

“There’s only a few more people I need to talk to and then I promise we can go.” Your boyfriend whispered into your ear. You couldn’t wait to get out of your heels and be in a quiet room, away from the people faking sincerity in hopes of investments and business opportunities.

You grab another glass of champagne as your boyfriend orders an Old Fashion before once again pulling you along through the crowd of people, evidently in search of someone.

“Ah, there he is.” You hear him exclaim, not yet able to see who he’s approaching.

When you come out from behind him you want to scream, he has approached Lewis, completely unaware of the situation he has just put you in.

“It’s so fantastic to meet you, I’m Brian, we work with a lot of the same people around here. It’s an honor, I’m a big fan.” Your boyfriend extends his hand to Lewis eagerly.

You can’t help but be confused, your boyfriend has never once mentioned racing, you can only assume he’s a fan of his work in fashion, or he’s lying.

“Nice to meet you too,” Lewis responds politely with a small chuckle, returning the handshake before turning his attention to you, “and always wonderful to see you Y/N.”

You want to melt into the earth below you. You can see the devious look in his eyes, blatantly announcing your familiarity, you thank god your boyfriend doesn’t know the depth of familiarity you have with the man in front of you, not yet at least.

“You two know each other?” Your boyfriend asks, confusion covering his face. 

“Oh yeah, we know each other well. Y/N hasn’t told you?” Lewis continues, a wide smile across his beautiful lips. To anyone else it would look kind and genuine, but you know he’s playing at something else, daring you, challenging your boyfriend in the simplest of ways.

“No she’s never-“ Your boyfriend starts before you cut him off.

“I wouldn’t say we know each other well, we’ve just met at things like this before.” You rush out, it’s not entirely a lie, that is exactly how you first met him. Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know the rest.

Lewis sends you a smirk, cocky and mischievous.

“All I can say man is you landed a very talented woman.” Lewis says to your boyfriend, the words falling off his lips in such a tone that your stomach flips.

“She is pretty incredible.” Your boyfriend smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your waist, completely oblivious to the meaning behind Lewis’ words. You can see out of the corner of your eye how Lewis glances down at the action, his jaw tightening momentarily.

Your boyfriend is on a mission, immediately transitioning into talking business with Lewis. You do your best not to undress him with your eyes, opting to look down at his feet throughout most of the conversation. You can feel Lewis glance at you every once in a while, trying so hard to ignore the way his gaze makes you feel. As you hear someone calling your boyfriends name you think you are finally free from the situation.

“So sorry, it sounds like I’m needed elsewhere, it was truly great meeting you, it was an honor.” Your boyfriend says to Lewis, shaking his hand once again before turning to you. You're ready to follow after him, happy to be dragged into yet another boring conversation, “Why don’t you stay here and catch up for a moment, I’ll find you later.”

He doesn’t give you even a moment to object as he presses a kiss to your temple and quickly makes his exit. You both watch as your boyfriend walks away, you in fear of the situation he’s left you in, Lewis in excitement of the exact same thing.

“Soooo,” Lewis draws out, finally looking directly at you, “how have you been?”

“Seriously?” You bite at him, unamused by his behavior.

He just shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, the glass barely hiding his amused smirk.

“What the hell was that? There’s no reason he needs to know anything.” You say, your tone low and harsh.

He just laughs, “There’s no way youre fucking that dude. I doubt that square can make you cum. Not the way I did.”

“Lewis,” You hiss at him, looking around hoping no one heard him, “he’s good to me, leave him alone.”

“So I’m right, he can’t make you cum can he.” His words come out as a statement not a question, so confident in himself, in his knowledge of your needs.

“Untrue, he’s perfectly fine, and he offers so much more than you ever did.” You throw back at him, not happy at his assessment of your relationship, he has no right to assume anything. Even if he’s partially correct.

“He might not break your heart baby, but I doubt he can break your back the way I did.” He’s gotten closer to you, his voice lower, seductive.

You can feel your breath hitch, the familiar smell of him engulfing your senses, his words going to your core unwillingly. He notices it too, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. All you can think about is how that same tongue has felt in your mouth, all over your body, inside of you, so many times. He chuckles as he watches you get lost in thought, knowing exactly where your mind has wandered.

“He’s gonna be busy for a while, we could relive some old times.” Lewis says quietly, his head gesturing back toward the hall where the bathrooms are.

“Lewis, no.” You say against your will, desperately wanting to follow him mindlessly down the hall and let him have his way with you, but you can’t let yourself do it to your boyfriend.

“Offer stands, always, ya know when you finally get sick of him.” Lewis says casually.

Within moments your boyfriend has appeared at your side once again. You worry that he’s heard something but he seems unbothered, unaware of what you were just offered.

“Vance and I are going to go grab drinks down the street, talk about the contract somewhere a little quieter.” He says to you, ignoring Lewis entirely.

You sigh, realizing just how much longer your night had just gotten, “I really just want to head back to the hotel.”

“Really? You know these meetings always go better when you’re around. You take the focus off of me.” He half complains half laughs.

“We’ve been here forever babe, I really just want to get out of my dress.” You say softly, trying to get out of the boring boys club meeting.

“You’ll be fine, besides how would you even get back to the hotel? I need to have the car take Vance and I and you’re never going to find a cab with all of this going on.” He gestures back towards that large party, his voice starting to sound annoyed.

“I’ll figure something out, I really just want to go back to the hotel, the day has been long enough as is.” You sigh, hoping he lets it go.

“C'mon babe, we’re supposed to be a team.” He continues to try to convince you. 

Never have you been part of his business ventures, only the arm candy that he  brings to meetings when he is trying to show off to someone.

“And we are, I’m just not up to staying out so late tonight.” You say, growing agitated, embarrassed that this conversation is happening in front of Lewis.

“We won’t be out late.” Your boyfriend continues to argue, “And how are you even going to get to the hotel?”

“I’ve got a car coming in just a little bit, I’ll get her back.” Lewis pipes up before you can respond, not looking at you but directing his attention to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend lets out a frustrated huff before conceding.

“That would be great, I appreciate it man.” Your boyfriend agrees without asking you, shaking Lewis’ hand.

“Anytime, don’t worry, she’ll be well taken care of.” The smile on Lewis’ face is so sweet you could almost believe he is just being polite.

Your boyfriend doesn’t even say another word to you, walking away toward his business partners after patting you on the shoulder.

“He evidently trusts you.” Lewis says, raising his eyebrow at you.

“He has absolutely no reason not to.” You fire back at him, feeling defensive.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink.” Lewis ignores you, wiggling his now empty drink in the air. 

“I thought your car was going to be here in a second.” You say, raising an accusatory brow at him as you cross your arms over your chest.

“I said it would be here in a little bit,” Lewis starts, taking note of your eye roll at his words, “It will be fine, I’ll have you back before Prince Charming gets his drunk ass back to your room.”

“He’s not drunk.” You defend him unnecessarily, making Lewis laugh.

“If he’s getting drinks with Vance, he definitely will be by the time he’s back. Come have a drink with me, I’ve missed you.” Lewis shakes his head, evidently familiar with the man your boyfriend is getting drinks with.

“You’ve missed me?” The words come out of your mouth without meaning to, you’re genuinely surprised he’s even thought of you since you parted ways.

“Yes, of course I have,” He laughs, directing you toward the bar, “I always enjoyed myself with you. I still don’t get why you left.” His voice sounds vulnerable as he lets the last bit slip.

“You know exactly why I left.” You say, mindlessly following him to the bar against your better judgment.

“No I really don’t, you never really gave me an explanation. You just disappeared.” Lewis argues with you, keeping his voice low as he directs you onto a bar stool.

“Lewis, we both know nothing about what we were doing was sustainable. There’s no way you could have ever given me what I need.” You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation, especially not in public.

“And what is it that you need? Some guy that can’t satisfy you? You’re really trying to tell me that you’re happier with him than you were with me?” Lewis continues to push you, waving down the bartender.

“Lewis, I was never with you, and besides that, you have no idea what our relationship is like.” You defend yourself, not directly answering him.

“I think I saw enough to know that you’re not having fun.” Lewis shoots back at you, waiting for the bartender to make his way over to the two of you.

“It’s not about fun, it’s about stability.” You say, trying to stand your ground.

“You deserve both.” Lewis mumbles as the bartender appears in front of you.

Lewis orders for you, not needing to ask what you want, confident in his prior experience with you.

Your mind wanders back to the rare times that you would go out in public with him, hidden in the back corner of dive bars. The two of you getting tipsy off of shitty drinks before falling into bed together. It was rare times like those that made you fantasize about actually being in a relationship with him, dream about what your life would be like with him giggling through kisses as a permanent fixture.

“What have you been up to?” Lewis pulls you out of your thoughts, thankfully changing the subject.

“Just the usual, not much has changed.” You shrug, taking a sip of the drink in front of you.

“Descriptive,” Lewis teases you, “nothing new? How’d you meet your square?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “You really want to talk about my boyfriend?”

“I need to know what I’m up against.” Lewis shrugs as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re not up against anything because it’s not a competition.” You deadpan, annoyed with his confidence.

“Everything’s a competition babe, that’s life.” Lewis laughs, taking a sip of his drink,

You can’t help the way your stomach flips at the familiar pet name, it’s been so long since you’ve heard it fall off his lips, it came so naturally to him.

Somehow you find yourself engaged in a normal conversation with Lewis eventually, discussing his race season and other projects he’s been working on. You’ve always loved to hear him talk about the things he’s passionate about, easily getting lost in his words. You stay with him, enjoying the shockingly easy conversation, indulging in more drinks than you should. It’s not until you see him check his watch do you think about how much time has probably passed.

“So is your car here yet, or are you planning on holding me hostage?” You ask him, filling the momentary silence.

“Not used to many hostage situations that include free drinks,” Lewis laughs, “but we should probably head out front, car will be here soon.”

“Thank you for the drinks by the way.” You say quietly, sliding off your stool to follow him out of the venue.

He just smiles, no words leaving his mouth as he places his hand on your lower back, guiding you out with him. It doesn’t take long before his car is at the curb, his hand not having left your back as he urges you into the car. Despite the multiple seats available, he settles into the seat directly next to you, his thigh touching yours sending electricity through your whole body. You curse yourself for how simple it is for him to draw a reaction from you. 

“So where’s the square got you staying?” Lewis asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Shut up.” You mumble before giving him directions that he relays to his driver.

There’s a large part of you that’s surprised he seems to actually be taking you back to your hotel, expecting him to try so much more before actually granting you your freedom. You can’t help but be slightly annoyed with your boyfriend for putting you in this position, even if he doesn’t know your history with Lewis, the rumors surrounding him should be enough to keep your girlfriend from being alone with him. Even if your boyfriend trusts you, why does he trust Lewis so much?

The drive is mostly silent. Lewis has his arm up over the back of your seat and as much as you want to fight him on it, push him away, you can’t bring yourself to do so, you enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. His body heat is intoxicating in the worst way, you can’t help but relish in the familiar feeling, so used to being cocooned in his arms. You can tell that you’re getting close to your hotel by the familiar streets, Lewis still scrolling on his phone as if he could care less that you’re sat next to him for the first time in nearly a year. Maybe he’s given up, you think. Maybe he’s finally respecting your boundaries. All of that is thrown to the wind when the car begins to slow down. He scooches even closer to you, his head dropping to your neck.

“My offer always stands, I meant it when I said I miss you.” He whispers in your ear before placing a kiss to your throat.

A small whimper leaves you involuntarily, secretly missing the way that his lips feel on your skin. You can feel a slight smirk on your skin as he pulls away, not far. His face comes up, directly in front of yours, his nose just grazing your own. Everything inside of you is screaming at you to get out of the car and not turn back, but your body is drawn toward him, he can feel it too. One large hand finds your thigh, running up the outside of it, just under the hem of your dress. You relish in the feeling of his calloused fingers on your skin for the first time in far too long. His eyes are heavy as he stares at you, hooded and darkened with lust. He leans forward just the slightest bit, ghosting his lips over yours. When you don’t pull back or fight him, he takes it as a good sign. His grip on your thigh tightens as he leans forward and properly connects your lips. The second his mouth is on yours he lets out a deep groan, one that seems to have been locked inside him for a long time. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, his tongue finding yours mindlessly. His tongue swirls against yours as his other hand comes to find the back of your head, pressing you harder against him. Your hands have a mind of their own, coming up to find the sides of his strong neck, not even thinking, you’ve been in another world since the second his lips found yours. When he finally departs you find yourself chasing his lips, making him peck yours once again.

“Come back to mine, babygirl.” He whispers, out of breath.

You let out a small whimper, your brain clouded by all of the ways you could explore him tonight, let him explore you.

“Yeah?” He coaxes, his head dropping back to your neck, “We can have so much fun babe. Everything you’ve been missing this last year, I promise.”

“Lewis, I can’t,” You just about groan, frustrated but sticking to your guns, “we’ve already crossed too many lines. I can’t do that to him.”

You try to push Lewis away but it’s worthless, his light assault on your neck is welcomed despite your words.

“Yeah, maybe we crossed a line. Why not cross some more? Hmm?” His words are spoken through kisses trailing up your neck and across your jaw, slowly making his way back towards your lips.

“Lew,” You breathe out, pushing at his chest once again, finally he disconnects from you, just barely, “I shouldn’t. I can’t, it’s not fair.”

“No, it’s really not fair is it.” Lewis shakes his head, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, a whole different meaning to his words.

“I need to go.” You whisper, moving to get out of the car.

“Hey,” Lewis stops you, a hand on your wrist, “you still have my number, let me know if you change your mind. I’m only a few blocks down.”

You offer him a small smile, not sure how to respond and not able to be in his presence any longer. You slip out of his grasp, closing the door on him as you do. You can feel the heat from where his fingers gripped you, a burning sensation on your skin. You try to shake the sensation from your body as you make your way up to your room. You can hear his car drive away in the background, having to stop yourself from turning around and going back to him. When you arrive back to your room, its empty, your boyfriend nowhere to be found, evidently still out at drinks. You sigh, flopping down onto the mattress. You want to scream. It’s so unbelievably unfair that someone can still have such a hold over you, despite having not seen him in a year. Lewis is addictive, and reintroducing an addictive substance to someone who has just barely become clean is always dangerous.

It’s a few hours before your boyfriend finally returns to the hotel. You’ve long since changed into comfier clothes and are lounging on the bed watching a random show, grateful to finally be out of your heels. When he finally arrives you can tell he’s beyond wasted, just like Lewis had predicted.

“Hey hun.” He slurs, swaying in the hallway as he tries and fails to steady himself.

“Hi,” You giggle, “have a good time with Vance?”

“Yeah,” He laughs back, “woulda had a better time if you had came along though.”

“You look like you had plenty of fun,” You raise a brow at him, “go change and come to bed.”

“I just don’t get why you didn’t want to come, honestly I would have closed that deal so much quicker” He says as he goes into the bathroom 

“I told you I wanted to get back to the hotel, I was tired.” You sigh

“Not too tired to hang out with Lewis Hamilton.” You can hear the anger in his voice and it makes you want to laugh.

“Really? You’re the one who told me to stay and hang out with him, not only that but you trusted him to take me home. How is that my fault?” You’re already annoyed as the words leave your mouth, already frustrated beyond belief in so many ways.

“Jesus Y/N, if I knew getting drinks would put you in such a mood maybe I would have come home sooner.” Your boyfriend says from the bathroom.

You have no idea where his sudden attitude has come from, you refusing going to drinks should not have put him in such a mood.

“I’m not in a mood, I just don’t appreciate you implying that I turned you down just to hang out with Lewis.” You argue as he exits the bathroom, his shirt now off, just in his suit pants.

“I know you didn’t leave that gala for quite some fucking time.” He spits at you drunkenly.

“What are you even talking about?” You ask him, confused how he even knows, not that it should even be an issue.

“You were too tired to come get drinks with me to help me with an important investor but you can stay and have drinks with Lewis Hamilton for another hour?” He accuses you, not taking into account that it’s partially his fault.

“We were waiting for his car so we got a drink,” You defend, “and how do you even know how long we were there?”

“People know you're my girl Y/N. Apparently people find it a bit strange when they see my girlfriend drinking at the bar with one of the most notorious playboys in the game.” His voice is slowly getting louder, putting you even more on edge.

“Oh so you have people keeping tabs on me now?” You question him.

“I don’t need to ask, they just do it. It’s embarrassing Y/N. I don’t need people thinking that my girlfriend is out fucking athletes.” He throws at you, rolling your eyes.

“All that should matter is that you know!” You yell at him.

“Do I?” His voice is laced with venom, a sudden distrust that you’ve never seen from him before.

“Well you certainly fucking should.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“How do you know him?” He ignores your argument, taking a step closer to you.

“I told you.” 

“Yeah you told me how you met him, sure. How do you actually know him, because you seemed to be pretty fucking close.” He fires at you.

Your anger has reached a peak, not wanting to deal with your boyfriends drunken anger, you let the walls down.

“You really want to know how familiar I am with him? Hmm?” You challenge him.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, he fucked me for a year straight. Best I ever had.” You shrug, your voice venomous. You have let all of your cares slip away.

“Excuse me?” Your boyfriend is seething, your last comment sticking with him.

“You heard me.” You say, your voice eerily calm. 

“You say that and then expect me to believe you didn’t fuck him tonight? How stupid do you think I am?” He sounds almost amused as he asks the question.

“I could have, oh god I could have, I was this close,” You hold up your fingers to emphasize your point, “but I didn’t. Ya know why? Because I’m in a relationship, I fucking you! I couldn’t do that to you. Yet here you are accusing me of going behind your back. You left me alone with him, you let him take me back to the hotel. Why? So you could prove a point about what you think of me?”

“If you were so close to fucking him, why don’t you go do exactly that?” Your boyfriend just about screams at you.

You’ve never had a fight of this magnitude, especially over something like this. Hearing his distrust and anger makes you rethink everything about him. Your mother always told you that drunk words are sober thoughts and you can’t help but feel that in this moment. In that moment you give up, why even try to convince him to trust you, if he thinks you’re going to cheat on him now why would he ever think differently.

“Fine.” You shrug, your voice calm.

“Seriously?” He’s taken aback, clearly not thinking you would act on it.

“You obviously don’t trust me so why not.” You say, not looking at him as you gather your things. You have no real plan about where you’re going to go, sure you are leaving things behind but not caring, just needing to get out of the room and away from his vile behavior.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re literally proving my point right now, you’ll fuck anyone who gives you attention. I thought I had managed to tame that shit in you.” He spits, watching you pack your things.

“Tame me?” You whip around at his words, “First of all, I’m not a fucking zoo animal. Second of all, if you’ve never trusted me why the fuck are you even here?”

“Jesus, I thought you could be better, you had so much fucking potential.” He sounds remorseful and it makes you want to scream. How dare he think you needed fixing.

“Fuck you, I’m done.” You say, your things finally zipped in your bag as you put on your shoes. 

He’s still yelling things at you as you make your way out of the room, not caring to stick around to hear what other awful things he has to say to you. You don’t properly breathe until you’re in the elevator, finally sure he’s not following you. That’s when you realize you don’t have anywhere to go, a lump forming in your throat as you think of everything that was said. Mindlessly you take out your phone, hesitating for a moment as you look at Lewis’ number, blocked for so long. You unblock him as you step out of the elevator and into the lobby, walking out to the street as you call his number, praying he’s not asleep. Going to him is probably the last thing you should be realistically doing, but he’s the only person you want to see right now.

“Hey stranger, I knew you’d end up calling.” His voice is cocky through the phone, you can hear his smirk.

“Lew.” You croak out, your tears finally coming to the front.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his tone changing drastically, immediately aware that something isn’t right. 

“You said you were staying nearby, can I come over?” You almost want to laugh at how desperate you sound.

“Of course, I’ll send you a car. Are you still at the hotel?” His voice is laced with concern and care and it makes your tears fall harder. It’s ridiculous that someone who had never been emotionally available could care for you more than your boyfriend.

“I’ll walk, just tell me where you are.” You shake your head as if he can see you.

“Y/N, it’s too late for you to be out walking alone, I’d be worried the whole time. Let me send you a car.” He argues.

“I need the fresh air honestly, just tell me where to go. Please.” Your voice breaks at the end of your plea, convincing him not to argue with you more, he can tell he won’t win.

Against his better judgment he finally tells you where he is, offering to stay on the phone with you while you walk. You’re tempted to take him up on it but you need the time to yourself. You’re still not sure why you feel such a desperate need to see him but it’s all you can think of at the moment.

The walk helps your head immensely, your agony switching to anger. Part of you wishes you had just gone back with Lewis when he offered, you would have proved your boyfriend right and still had a good night. If he doesn’t trust you, why be good for him?

When you arrive at Lewis’ hotel, he’s waiting in the door to his suite for you, his suit from earlier still on. He immediately takes note of your scowl and bag, his eyebrows raising. He doesn’t say a word as he steps aside to let you enter the room.

“That fucking asshole.” You say, dropping your bag as you finally turn to face a very concerned Lewis.

“What happened?” He asks you, cautiously approaching you.

“He doesn’t trust me! I could have come here and fucked you hours ago, but no, I stayed in his room and waited for his drunk ass to get back like a good little housewife. What do I get when he gets back? Accused of fucking you.” You let out in one big breath.

Lewis’ eyes widen, a slightly amused look on his face underneath the concern.

“So he accused you of cheating on him?” He questions, still trying to fully figure out what he’s dealing with.

“Oh not only that, he said he thought that he had tamed me, told me I embarrassed him.” You let out a bitter laugh.

“So he’s a square and a dumbass.” Lewis states with a cock of his head, frowning.

“Oh fuck you.” You spit at him.

“I’m just saying, no man in his right mind would ever be embarrassed by you.” He says softly, approaching you to put his hands on your arms gently, rubbing up and down softly in hopes of calming you somehow.

The gentle action makes you want to cry again, fall into him and never let him go. As if he can tell, he pulls you into his chest, holding you tight. You wrap your arms around his neck. You let yourself revel in the feeling of being in his arms, holding you so tight you almost can’t breathe, but you welcome it, you’ve missed it for so long.

“So why are you here baby, to piss him off?” Lewis asks quietly, loosening his grip on you slightly to get you to look at him.

“I don’t even know, I think I just wanted you.” You sigh, embarrassed by how needy you sound.

He smirks, pleased in the knowledge that you may want him in any way shape or form.

“Why the hell are you still dressed up?” You suddenly ask him, confused by how much time has passed since he left the event.

“Had an after party I had to go to, just got back a little while ago.” He shrugs, his arms still wrapped around you.

“So why the hell were you trying to get me to come back with you if you had things you had to do?” You question him.

“If there was any chance in hell you would come back with me I was blowing that party off in a heartbeat, don’t care if I pissed anyone off. Haven’t seen you in ages, couldn’t let the chance slip.” He explains, looking you dead in the eye.

The thought that he would have rather spent his night with you than going out and networking makes your heart clench, it’s something your own boyfriend never would have done, evidently. His admission makes you throw caution to the wind, missing the feeling of being wanted, you pull the back of his neck so you can connect your lips to his. He seems almost surprised for a moment, not expecting anything to happen due to the state you had arrived in. He only hesitates for a moment before responding with full force, his lips fully claiming yours like they’ll never touch another set.

He groans into the kiss, the sound going to your core immediately, its always been one of your favorite sounds. You take your hands from around his neck, pawing at the button of his jacket, desperate to feel the smooth skin and hard muscle he has hidden underneath. The second his jacket is open, running your hands up his torso, reveling in the strength, your lips never parting from his. He pulls back slightly, a cocky smirk spread across his swollen lips, his hands firmly on your backside.

“What do you want, baby?” He questions, his tone knowing.

You whimper in response, trying to catch his lips again as you work to push the jacket off his shoulders.

“Words Y/N, you know that.” He reprimands you even though he is reaching behind himself to pull his jacket off, throwing it over the nearby chair.

“Fuck, I want you, please.” You whine out, annoyed you even have to ask. 

His hands come back to your ass, taking greedy handfuls as his lips drop to your neck, brushing over the skin as he speaks, “You want me to show you what you’ve been missing out on? Remind you how good I can make you feel?”

All you can do is nod as you brace yourself on his large biceps, a panted ‘yes’ falling from your lips. Within seconds his hands have fallen to your thighs, scooping you up to walk you towards the bed in the large suite. He drops you down on the bed, letting you bounce as he stares down at you with hungry eyes. The mood has shifted so drastically since you arrived, the whiplash is making your brain spin. Within moments he’s on you again, his lips hungry against yours as his large hand trails up under your sweatshirt. You wished you were wearing something cuter but the feeling of his hands on you threw every thought out the window. As his lips trailed down your neck you explored every inch of his muscular back under your palms, feeling the way the muscles flexed every time he adjusted his position. Wordlessly your sweatshirt was thrown up and over your head before his lips attached to your bare breast. The moan you let out was something you didn’t recognize from yourself anymore, a sound you hadn’t made since the last time you had him.

Over the course of your relationship with your boyfriend, sex had become more of a chore, something you knew you needed to do to keep the relationship working, it obviously didn't work. Your boyfriend tended to rush through things, chasing his own high with yours as more of an afterthought. Lewis however, he took his time with you, he always had, he would never be done until you were absolutely wrecked beneath him.

Lewis’s lips were trailing down your body, his tongue tracing every inch of skin it could reach. Hot, wet, sloppy kisses being left against every dip and curve of your figure. When he reached the waistline of your sweatpants, his eyes flicked up for a moment, locking with yours. There was a faint question in them and all you could do was nod, bucking your hips up towards him, urging him to take them off. 

“So eager.” Lewis just about chuckles, pulling down your pants and thong in one move.

You can’t help but squirm when his eyes lock onto your heat, staring at you like he’s going to destroy you. His large hand splays across your bare waist, keeping you in place as his other holds one of your thighs out to the side.

“Patience babe, don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you.” His voice is teasing but you can hear the tension behind his words, he’s just as worked up as you are, the evidence is visible in his dress pants.

He leans down, pressing soft kisses along your hip, making his way further down slowly, much too slow for your liking.

“Lewis, please.” You whimper, hoping he will speed up the process and ease the ache between your legs.

He smirks, locking his eyes with yours as he latches his lips around your clit with no warning. You shriek, the sound turning into a guttural moan as his tongue laps over your nerves. You can feel the stubble of his beard on the inside of your thigh, his eyes still have left your face. You can feel the cocky smirk that spreads across his face as he lowers his face, lapping at your drenched entrance.

“Fuck baby, you really needed this didnt you?” He taunts you, breathless.

All you can do is whine his name as his skilled mouth returns to your core.

“God I missed you, always taste so fucking good.” He murmurs against you.

His tongue makes his way inside of you as his thumb comes to rub at your clit, making your back arch. Finally having him inside of you feels so good, but you need so much more and he knows it.

He pulls his mouth away, his thumb still tracing patterns across your nerves.

“Need you to come for me babygirl, could feel you clenching around my tongue, I know you’re close.” He’s out of breath and when you finally look at him you can see your arousal glistening on his lips.

You writhe on the bed as he presses a finger against your entrance, teasing the slightest bit of pressure before inserting the thick digit deep inside of you. His tongue comes down to replace his thumb against your clit as he slips another finger inside of you, massaging the spongy spot inside of you just right that you scream. The sound rips out of your body coming from deep in your throat as your pleasure courses through you. You can feel yourself soaking Lewis as he laps up your release, humming contentedly, like youre the best meal he’s ever had. You barely have the ability to push him away, too sensitive and he knows it, that cocky smirk plastered across his face as he finally sits back. You barely even register that he’s moved back over you until you feel his fingers on your bottom lip, your own pleasure covering them.

“Open up babygirl, need you to taste just how amazing you are.” His voice is soft yet strained as you let his fingers slip past your lips, swirling your tongue around them. He lets out a soft groan, his eyes locked on your mouth as you put on a little show for him, still half delirious. 

When he finally slips his fingers from your lips he trails them down your chin and across your chest, leaving a trail of moisture that makes you shiver.

“Think you can take more? Hmm?” His lips are near your ear, you can feel the hot air of his voice against your humid skin.

“Please, god please.” You beg him, desperate to feel him again after so long.

“Been dying to be inside of you since the second I saw you tonight.” He admits into the skin of your neck as he works on the button of his dress pants. You attempt to help but its useless, you’re a useless pile of mush at this point.

He moves himself to stand at the end of the bed, finally kicking off his pants before grasping himself in his large palm. Your lips part inadvertently at the sight in front of you. His bare chest is glistening with sweat, making his tattoos that much darker and showing off the prominent shape of his pecs, his tattooed bicep is flexing ever so slightly as he slowly strokes himself, his eyes wandering over your naked body. When you finally trail your eyes down, your breath hitches in your throat. You’ve been with him countless times, but nothing can ever prepare you for just how thick he is, just how long he is. He has a cock that most men would pay to have and he knows it. He notices your staring, one side of his mouth curving into a knowing smirk. You’re sitting up, crawling towards him mindlessly, desperately trying to get your hands on him. You don’t even have time to properly register it when all the sudden you're being picked up like a rag doll and maneuvered onto all fours in front of him. You’re not even sure how he did it, his strength and your delirium making everything happen so fast. Within moments you feel his body pressed up behind yours, his mouth coming down next to your cheek.

“Gonna make sure my girl knows that no one will ever make her come like I do, gonna have you screaming my name baby.” He whispers, his voice sounding like pure sex. Your stomach clenches when he calls you his girl.

You feel him lining himself up with your entrance and all you can do is whimper into the pillow below you. With one hand grasped around his cock and the other a bruising grip on your hip, he takes a second to tease you, giving you the slightest pressure at your aching hole before slipping out and thrusting forward to nudge your clit. He’s leaving you a whining mess before he’s even inside of you and he’s absolutely loving it. He stills momentarily, lined up with you again before thrusting into you all at once. The force makes all the air leave your lungs as you slump even further forward. You hear a loud groan leave his chest and you wish you could see him, see the ecstasy across his face. His large palm soothes down your spine before pushing down, making you arch your hips up toward him even more. He barely gives you a moment before he’s rocking his hips, your body still working to accommodate the size its gone so long without.

“Good girl, you can take it.” His voice is low, demanding yet endearing. He’s the one that taught you about your praise kink, always so vocal about how good you make him feel.

His pace slowly starts to build, his thrusts becoming harsher as he keeps pressure on your back, keeping you just how he wants you. You can feel yourself getting even wetter as you listen to the moans leaving his body, your own sounds being nothing but gasps and whines. He’s hitting the perfect spot, over and over, and you can feel your stomach start to tighten. Rarely have partners even been able to make you come with just penetration, but everything is different with Lewis, it always has been.

“Fuck, already?” Lewis asks, his voice sounding almost amazed from behind you, “Fuck babe, I can feel you clenching my cock already, you gonna come again? Gonna fucking soak me like a good girl?”

His pace picks up, determination behind each thrust as his grip on your hips becomes even tighter. His voice alone is enough to send you over the edge again, the sound of pure sex. He groans loudly as he feels you come around him, working you through it but collapsing over you. He lets your hips go and you're dropping down flat on the mattress as he continues to pound into you from above. You can hear the slick sounds of him fucking into you and it makes everything so much dirtier. You’re moaning his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever learned.

“That’s it baby, just like that.” He coaxes you through a groan.

He doesn’t let up, the new angle making your toes curl as his weight bares down on you. He has one hand on your hip once again while he leans on his forearm next to you. You feel him start to move himself up, hooking your legs over his hips, your back bending backwards for him. He slows his pace ever so slightly, adding more force behind every thrust, making you squeal and grab at the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, Lewis, I can’t, I-“ You whimper, too sensitive and too fucked out to properly string a sentence together.

“Yes you can baby, I know you can, go ahead and give me one more.” He soothes you, slapping your ass in contradiction to his kind tone.

You blindly reach your hand out behind you, wanting something to ground yourself on. He grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze before pulling out of you entirely. The sudden loss of contact leaves you confused before he’s flipping you onto your back, spreading your legs and sliding home once more. This time he grabs both of your hands, lacing your fingers with his as he braces them next to your head. His pace is still slow but unforgiving. His pupils are blown out and hooded as his eyes bore down into your own that are now teary.

“I got you, m’right here, let go, I know you can.” His voice is strained and you can tell he’s trying to hold his own release off, desperate to feel you come again.

His lips attach to yours, sloppy and wet as he sucks on your tongue. One of his hands lets go of yours as he trails down to your cores, gently flicking at your nerves to feel you clench before settling on a relentless speed that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Say my name baby, tell me who’s making you feel this good.” His tone is possessive and cocky as he pulls away to stare at you, obsessed with your face as you climax.

You scream his name as your orgasm washes over you, feeling like a tidal wave that has washed away anything but him and the ecstasy youre floating in. You hear him let out a deep guttural groan as his hips falter, trying so hard to fuck you through your own climax but the feeling of you squeezing around him is too much. You feel like you're floating when you feel him twitch inside of you, coming for longer than he ever has with you. You revel in it as he collapses down onto you, a comfortable crushing feeling that makes you never want to leave the bed.

You’re not sure how long you laid there, letting him pepper your neck with sloppy kisses as you tried to stroke his sweaty back, your efforts not the most successful as you felt like jello. You could feel the comforting feeling of him softening inside of you, still so big. You still didn’t feel like you were inside your own body when he finally pulled out and cleaned you up. It wasn’t until he was turning off the light and climbing into bed next to you, still naked, that you really felt human again. As he pulled you into his chest you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, knowing there was no good way for this to end. You were silent, nuzzling into his chest, trying to hold on to the moment for as long as possible.

“For the record, I meant what I said, no man in his right mind would ever be embarrassed by you.” Lewis says, tightening his arm around your waist.

You don’t respond, just press a kiss to his chest, enjoying the scent of him.

“I should know, I fumbled you pretty fucking hard.” He continues, much to your surprise.

You lift your head to look at him, shock written across your face.

“I’ve missed you.” He says, staring into your eyes in the dark room.

“I’ve missed you too.” You admit, laying your head back down to rest on his chest.

“I’ve got some other events to go to this week, come with me.” His words sound less like a question and more of a statement.

“Excuse me?” You look at him again, once again surprised.

“Come with me and let me show you off how you should be. I fucked up once, not doing it again.” His words are confident, sure of himself in every way.

You’re not sure how to respond, elated by the fact that this is exactly what you’ve wanted for so long, and terrified by the same thing. Words don’t come to you, all you can do is stretch up to kiss him, your mouths frantic against each others. His arm tightens around your waist as he pulls you up to lay on top of him, your legs falling around his waist. You kiss him mindlessly, brain dead at the feeling of his lips.

“Like I said, my girls gotta be taken care of.” He says against your lips as he moves you to slip himself inside of you once more.

As you slide down onto him once more, feeling him fill your heart and your core, you know no one else will ever be good enough for either of you again.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

You're What?

Weiss: (walking with Blake through the city of Vacuo) .......

Blake: (ears twitching as she bites her thumb) ......

Weiss: .......

Blake: .......

Weiss: .......Well, as riveting as this gal pal date is, what's going on with you?

Blake: (blurts out in utter word vomit) I'm in heat!

Weiss: .....?

Blake: ........

Weiss: .....Not what I thought you were going to say.

Blake: I'm sorry for springing this on you, Weiss. But I needed to tell someone before I went insane. I haven't had a cycle in literal years, and I'm freaking out.

Weiss: Wait a minute... Have you not told Yang?

Blake: (ears droop as she holds her arm and shakes her head)

Weiss: Why not?

Blake: Because I'm nervous that she'll think I'm an animal, okay?

Weiss: Blake, Yang fell in love with you with all your animalistic qualities. I doubt this would make her love you any less.

Blake: (deadpans) Wow, thanks, Weiss.

Weiss: You're the one who jumped nearly six feet in the air when Zwei came to Beacon, you drool over fish - lest you forget the fish bowl from the noodle stand during the Vital Festival, and you've done the whole "if I fits, I sits" thing in that giant tea set box Yang got you.

Blake: I get it! I have a few extra feline tendencies to go with my ears and night vision.

Weiss: So, what's the big deal with having a heat cycle? Hold on! Does that mean you don't get regular periods?!

Blake: I get them about four times a year with the cycle.

Weiss: (crosses arms and grumbles) Lucky you.

Blake: (giggles slightly) Sorry. But it's difficult to be around Yang, I can smell her more intensely than normal....and I don't want to do something stupid that will drive her away.

Weiss: Please tell me you aren't going to start "presenting" yourself to her like a common stray.

Blake: Wow! Okay. Way to stereotype, Weiss.

Weiss: Well, excuse me if the one stereotype I've heard about Faunus going into heats turned out to be true! I'm going to question everything now! Next, you're going to tell me you purr!

Blake: (ears stick up straight as she chuckles awkwardly) Uhm... About that...

Weiss: You can purr!?!?!?!?!

Blake: I haven't purred since I was a child!

Weiss: But you can purr?!

Blake: I haven't felt safe enough to purr in years!!!

Weiss: It's probably the same thing that happened with your heat cycle! (Plasters her hand to her head in a fake swoon) I'm beside myself! My best friend, my confidant in Faunus rights, is only further instilling stereotypes that my younger self would be roling over to hear!

Blake: (shoulders Weiss into the road) Oh, shut it, Ice Queen!

Weiss: Hahahaha! Okay, but teasing aside, thank you for telling me. But I still think you should tell Yang so she doesn't just think you're avoiding her for however long this lasts.

Blake: (sighs and relaxes) I know. It's just difficult.

Weiss: (strings her arm through Blake’s) Well, let's focus on that later. Right now, let's see about finding you something that can help while you tell me all about this heat cycle. I'd like to be prepared for this in the future.

[ellieluvr420]

We meet again, darling pt.18 (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader x detective Ellie Williams)

Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

Violence (shit is kind of heavy ibr) and mentions of abuse btw!

“YOU FUCKING BITCH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU PLAYING AT?” Your brother screeched as he storms into your penthouse, you can’t see him yet but you imagine the beetroot colour of his face that he always suffered from growing up.

“What’s got you so riled up?” You’re standing at your island drinking a coffee and going over some last minute details for your travel plans. He storms over and immediately grabs you by the throat, slamming you back into your fridge behind you.

“Don’t give me that shit you little cunt. What the fuck are you doing?” You move carefully to remove your knife from its holster that’s hidden by your blazer, once it’s firmly in your grip you rapidly bring it up and slash the outside of your brother’s wrist. He growls at the pain and back hands you once hard with his other hand, it sends you stumbling to the corner of the counter where you grip on to steady yourself.

“I can’t even tell you how much you look like Dad right now.”

“Oh you are so fucking predictable.”

“Same to you.”

“The fuck do you mean by that?”

“God if mum was here she’d wash your mouth out with soap.” He comes at you with a psychotic look on his face but you’re prepared so you wait for him to get closer and knee him directly in the crotch and then elbow him hard in the nose. He goes down onto his knees and you kick so he falls on his back as he coughs and groans. “You look pathetic right now. That’s what you’ve always been, pathetic. That’s why I had to run shit, because you’re a pathetic, incompetent pussy that can’t do what’s necessary. If you wanted me out of the way, you should’ve just killed me. I would’ve respected you more for that than this bullshit.”

Your voice is raised but you aren’t yelling, he looks at you as you speak and you notice his difficulty focusing but you just stand and stare at the last bit of family you had left, the thought of killing him saddened you for a second but as you watched him writhing around on the floor before he struggles to stand again the sadness morphs into something more energising.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh now who’s feigning ignorance? Ricky Matthews, Johnny. Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out? How stupid are you?”

“I was hoping that they’d catch you before you could, figured your little girlfriend would lead them right to you.”

“I guess you underestimated their loyalty.”

“Their? You sick freak, you're with both of them? I should've fucking known, never could resist what you couldn't have could you?"

"Think I've proved I can have them actually, I've proved over and over again that I can have them, I've had them a lot." A sinister grin grows on your face and his twists into a face of disgust, he honestly looked like he was seconds away from heaving.

"You know I could get over you being a dyke but this, you're not fucking normal! I never believed anyone when they would tell me you're unholy, I always defended you when people said you were Satan's gift to Earth. I've gone along with your story of our parents since you killed them. I was wrong and you were born wrong, there are bad people and then there's you. You trapped me in this shit and I'm done, I need to be rid of you."

You weren't hurt at his words, you didn't feel anything, but your body felt lighter as everything inside you felt like it darkened. You had always had a soft spot for your brother and it always weighed on you, kept you grounded but as you feel its weight dissipating you feel a new sense of warmth as your hatred of him burns a fire deep inside you.

"My story of our parents? What the story of our parents? Are you actually trying to tell me I'm lying about them?"

"We didn't kill them, YOU DID."

"Fine fine, yes okay I killed them but I've protected their AND your honour all these years, I've never told anyone what went on in our white picket fence house. Typical suburban family right? I'm lying when I say we weren't that Johnny, am I?" He huffs and looks down at the floor avoiding your crazed eyes. "You gutless weasel, look at me when I'm speaking to you. Am I lying Johnny?"

He looks up and there are tears in his eyes and it only makes the fire of your hatred for him burn hotter, everything in you was ready to boil over as you held back your rage with every ounce of strength you had.

"I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry for how they treated you. It never even seemed like it affected you, you were the most popular girl in school, I was known as your brother even before you went there, every boy wanted you, every girl wanted to be your friend, you did well in school, you did clubs, you seemed happy so I thought you were okay."

"Oh I was fine. That's the point Johnny, I don't feel anything right? I'm psychotic, sociopathic, narcissistic, what else is there? Let's go through the list hm, bet I fit the criteria for more disorders than I don't. That's why I was numb to it, but do you not think maybe you could've tried to intervene when our dad tried to strangle me with his fucking belt? Yeah I don't feel things but I fucking felt that. But I looked happy so it was okay to just let him continue breaking my ribs when he had had a bad day right?"

"I'm sorry, I was scared."

"Exactly, you were a fucking coward, never once had he ever even raised his voice at you or his fucking wife but you're scared that he's gonna give you the same licks I was getting daily if you step in. Better me than you, you were a fucking coward then and you're a fucking coward now."

"God if you despised me so much why didn't you kill me with them?"

"Because I needed you, do you think I could've got this far if I hadn't had you as my posterboy?"

"So you've put me through hell so you could use me?"

"Yeah."

"See! This is what I fucking mean, can't you see it?"

"What? That I'm a bad person? Of course I fucking see it. But I kill and I hurt and I abuse when it serves a purpose to me, not because my ego is so fragile I need to pick on someone I know can't fight back."

"And that makes it okay?"

"No obviously not but that's the point, I don't care. I don't care that it isn't okay to kill your parents and I don't care that it isn't okay to kill your brother. I don't concern myself with justifying my actions I just do it." You spit your words at him as you pull your gun from its holster and aim it directly at his heart.

"Why couldn't you have been normal?" He pleads and your hand with the gun waivers as you actually feel a pain in your chest, its a foreign feeling and you clutch at it with your free hand as you focus on your brothers hunched form.

"Do you know what? I wouldn't have been able to blackmail you into all of this if you hadn't killed that fucking girl? Remember who you called to come help you? Remember who was the reason you didn't get thrown in jail? You act like I was born all dark but you aren't sunshine and rainbows either. Why'd you kill her again Johnny?"

"Shut. Up."

"Oh yeah, because you got her pregnant and you were too much of a coward to tell our fucking parents because god forbid they see that you aren't their perfect little angel boy. You killed a pregnant girl John, I think it's time you face the fact that we are just a fucked up family, Dad, me, you, Mum was a poor victim in it all but her ability to brush everything under the rug to keep up appearances is what got her six feet under."

"I killed someone and now you make any new employee kill someone to prove themselves. You don't see how we're different?"

"You killed an innocent pregnant 18 year old and I kill bad people with bad intentions. You don't see how that's different?"

He goes silent as you both just stand there, there's blood splatters on the floor and countertops from the various wounds you had inflicted on him. The atmosphere was heavy and you realise you're glad you sent Ellie and Abby home before he came over because the thought of them hearing some of the things that have been said causes a shiver to run down your spine.

"You ruined me. I was going to be an engineer, I had potential and now I can never live a normal life again."

"You ruined yourself, I just capitalised on it. Don't see you crying about losing your normal life when you're lounging about in your massive fucking mansion. Or your collection of supercars, or what about that summer house in Aspen. Never had a problem with all the things I've given you because of the shit I do."

"I let myself be bought."

"You did. I hope you enjoyed it because you've stopped being of use to me now. Sorry your funeral isn't going to be as good as your last one, do you remember how many more flowers my grave got than yours? I knew it was a good idea to wait and watch the aftermath."

"I don't even care anymore. Just kill me." His acceptance of his fate pissed you off and you find yourself smashing his face down into the countertop with every bit of your strength, his nose makes a distinctive cracking sound and he cries out although it comes out strangled. As he falls down to the floor once again struggling to breathe, you pin him down to stop his wriggling, you looked at your gun in your hand and it didn't feel right so you swapped it for your knife and dragged it down his bloody face as you took in his features one last time.

This was it, the last thing grounding you to your humanity, the last weight you had to shed and the moment had come, the world could burn and you'd just lay in the fire, the darkness that had enveloped you in its embrace all your life was no longer externally guiding you, it infected every cell in your body, the darkness became you and directed the knife straight into John's heart, again and again. By the time you were done you were kneeling in a pool of his blood and there was a cavity in his chest, you look at his dull, lifeless eyes and you stand to look over him before crouching again diving your knife into his face until he is unrecognisable, you sit back and admire your work as you recount all the things he said to you.

As you walked away to go get cleaned up you pulled out your phone to message on the group chat you have with Ellie and Abby. Ellie had made it saying it would be easier but you still felt silly using a group chat.

'How's packing going?' You message once you've showered and redressed. Ellie begins typing almost immediately.

'yeah it's okay, I don't actually have that much stuff so it's a breeze' You notice yourself smiling at her message which only grows as Abby starts typing, you couldn't describe what it is you feel for them, because like Richter said, you don't feel anything.

'Yeah I'm realising half of my wardrobe is stuff you've bought me.' You chuckle a little and send the kiss mark emoji that you had taken to using as it reminds you of all the lipstick stains you've left in the shape of a pout on them. You put your phone away and prepare yourself to leave your penthouse for one of the last times. You walk past what is left of Richter and message Jeremy that he's ready for collection and call the elevator to your floor.

"I was wondering when you would show."

"Happy to hear you've been expecting me." You were stood in front of the boss of the Met, he was a heavy set man with dark hair that had streaks of grey running through it as its all gelled backwards to sit smoothly against his head and a large moustache with the same grey speckles on the dark background covering most of his top lip. He sat in a nice suit smoking a cigar, you roll your eyes at the cliché and he chuckles a little.

"Well I wasn't expecting you. You're telling me a little girl took down my empire?"

"Empire is generous don't you think? I thought we should have a chat."

"I'd love to." He gestures at the chair in front of his desk and you sit slowly while fixed on his dark eyes. as they examine your every move.

psa: I know she's a bad girl but my heart broke a little for reader while writing this. She's just different okay :') Goodness the end is getting closer, sorry there wasnt much of abby or ellie in this chapter but i really wanted to focus on reader and richter

[icee133]

Hi! This is part 7 of the ongoing Marionette series (yes I've decided to call it a series). Remember when I said part 6 was the longest? Lol nah it's this 1 now. Have fun! Sorry for any writing errors 🤍🤍

If you would like to be added to taglist let me know!

The Marionette

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7🤍

Word count for this part: 2875. Enjoy!👻👻

Synapsis:

A new overlord has manifested in hell seemingly overnight. One that overpowered many if not all of the current overlords in all the right ways. Will this overlord use her powers for good to help the members of the hotel? Will she fall in love with a man and end up in a loving gentle relationship? Or will she get her heart broken and turn against them all, burning each bridge she meticulously made. 

The Marionette is a heart wrenching fic with many turns you won't see coming. Stay tuned for each of the episodes as they are released.

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Nette was walking down to the kitchen to prepare her and Lucifer’s dinner when she ran into Charlie. “Hey I need to talk to you… alone, quietly…please” Nette turned to her realizing Charlie seemed a little jostled and nervous. “What’s going on?” She couldn’t help but ask. “Just please follow me.” Charlie began pulling at nette’s overcoat leading her down the hallway. Nette followed her a bit concerned due to the amount of emotions that seemed to be running through the princess’s mind. She gave off an aura of someone who was hopelessly terrified of whatever she was walking towards. Nette had become quite protective over Charlie in the time they had been living together at the hotel. She had begun to see her as a daughter of a sort. Always checking on her and listening to any worries that Charlie might have about the sinners and redemption plans. Nette had never seen Charlie like this. She was always positive and bubbly, lighting up every room she walked into with a sense of compassion and pride. The charlie in front of Nette wasn’t the one she was used to seeing. Nette could only assume the worst at this moment.

Charlie pulled Nette into a room and roughly shut the door behind them before locking it. Nette looked around the room. She spotted Vaggie standing by the bed, and upon further inspection saw a male laying in the center of it. One who looked strangely familiar yet Nette found herself being unable to place where she had seen him before. “Charlie, what is going on?” Nette asked carefully not wanting to assume anything, but fearing the worst. “Okay… so I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone. Not until I can figure out how to tell them. Honestly I don’t even know how this happened, and when I realized what had happened I didn’t know who to tell. You always listen to me anytime something happens-“ “Charlie” “-and I know it’s probably a bad thing that I’m doing this, and hiding it too, but I can’t help it. I know that sinners deserve second chances, and I think it includes this one too. Despite everything that he has done I think he deserves a chance to change and-“ Nette interrupted her nervous rant to try and calm the situation. “CHARLIE! Take a breath. I’m not upset, just a bit confused. Why do you want me to not tell anyone? Tell me what’s happening, who is he?” Charlie looked at Nette then slowly turned towards the male still on the bed before walking towards him. Nette carefully followed her not wanting her to freak out again. “Ok.” Charlie took a deep breath before continuing “This is Adam. The first man Adam. The Angel who Nifty killed in the last extermination. I don’t understand how he’s here, but I’m guessing by the looks of it he is a sinner now.” Nette looked at the man laying on the bed. Caramel skin, brown hair, with a bit of facial stubble. He was tall, a bit on the chubby side -but still muscular- with horns protruding from his head. He had bright red wings, and wore a robe similar to the one Nette had seen the Angel wearing before only it was open. He had on a white shirt and black pants under it. Nette took a deep breath. Quickly trying to process the information she had just been given. This changed everything as they knew it. If a winner could fall, if a human soul that proved themselves worthy to be in heaven could fall to hell that would mean a sinner could rise to heaven. But this also means the chances of heaven helping them speak to a winner would plummet. If they found out that a soul with divine ordainment somehow fell and ended up in hell as a lowly sinner they would do everything in their power to shut down this operation. Who knows what they would do, who they would send to put a stop to it all. This was dangerous, extremely so. Nette realized Charlie was right. They had to be careful who they told and when, telling the wrong person could lead to angry sinners banging on the door of the hotel trying to kill the Angel who once hunted them for sport. Or worse, angry angels knocking on their door for ‘causing an Angel to fall from grace’.

“Is he alive?” Nette couldn’t help but ask the obvious considering the information they knew about nifty killing him. “Yes, but I don’t know how. He was killed by an angelic weapon.” “Okay we need to be careful, I was going to tell you about this later, but it seems a better time to do it now. I spoke with your dad about getting heaven to allow us to speak to a winner. He said he thinks it’s a good idea to at least try. With the idea of the possibility of a sinner having been redeemed before and them not telling us being a factor in the decision. We were worried that they might be a little iffy about allowing sinners to speak with a winner due to the fear of ‘corrupting a soul’, but now I’m sure they won’t let us if they find out the first soul in heaven is now a sinner in hell. But I don’t think this is something that can be hidden from the hotel members. Sooner or later they’ll find out, and I’m sure they are pissed due to this man being the very reason that member of the family you mentioned ended up dead. They will likely try to seek revenge on him for that, and you can’t blame them for it. After all, he took a friend from them.” Nette explained. “Okay so dad was okay with that idea, but…yeah you're right they will be upset and rightfully so. When I found him I was going to leave him there, but something inside me wouldn’t allow it. I’m beyond angry at him. We lost a member of our family in that fight because of him. But- I don’t know… I couldn’t just let him suffer, as much as I wanted to.” Charlie had started to tear up while talking about pentious. He was a good friend to them all.

“Okay, I think we should start with telling your dad.” Nette started before Charlie yelled out “NO!” Nette turned to her “As much as I’m sure you don’t want to Charlie, it’s for the best. Your dad is one of the only people who could protect the whole hotel if something happened. He cares about you a lot and I know he would hear you out if you talked to him about this.” She explained. “I know but I only recently got him back into my life, we started getting closer and I don’t want us to get pulled apart again over this. But I can’t just let him die out there, or worse end up selling his soul. He’s one of the only ones who has spent time- a lot of time- in heaven, he knows what winners need to do to get there. He’s seen the people who’ve made it into heaven and has seen the ones who ended up in hell. He’s valuable not just for being redeemed, but also for information. Just-“ “I understand. If you want I can talk to him about it. I’m sure he won’t want to hear it from me, but it’s probably better to let the idea slip into his mind before throwing him in the deep end about it.” Nette chuckled trying to lighten the mood despite the situation at hand. “Okay, yeah that’s a good idea maybe” Charlie laughed. “I’m supposed to have dinner with him tonight, I’ll bring it up to gauge his opinion on the matter. Test the waters.” Nette pointed at Adam “Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t run out of here. Try to keep him hydrated and well… alive.” Nette said while walking towards the door. She grabbed the door handle when she heard Charlie say “you're eating with my dad?” “Yes, as friends. He often forgets to eat and when I offered to bring him food he asked if I’d join him so I said yes. Is that okay?” Nette was suddenly hesitant on the matter quickly realizing Charlie might not be okay with it due to their current relationship. “Yes, of course it is! I’m just happy he’s opening up a little more. And even more so that he’s doing it with you.” Charlie was smiling. Nette felt herself release the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Oh, okay… yeah I’ll just- yeah? Nette was suddenly a bit flustered. Quickly trying to leave the room.

Nette walked out of the room quietly closing the door behind her before walking down the stairs towards the kitchen. She was stuck heavily in thought about how exactly she was going to tell the king of hell that the man who almost killed his daughter was now in hell, and his daughter was tending to him. And wanted him to stay in the hotel…to be redeemed. The very hotel he destroyed. The hotel he attacked. Yep that was going to be a blast to have to bring up. (sarcasm) Pushing aside those thoughts to focus on cooking she went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Luckily she had set aside some preparations for food that she had made a few days ago. So she could easily cook something for the two of them. She began pulling out the ingredients for the meal before noticing Angel walking into the hotel. Immediately Nette could feel that he was upset. The very way he carried himself told her that much. He was wearing big sunglasses that covered his face. She felt her blood boil at the very thought of the asshole moth demon that Angel called a boss putting his hands on her friend. She felt her worries about telling Lucifer about Adam quickly shift into worry about her friend who was obviously injured, but trying to hide it. Angel had walked towards the entry way into the kitchen silently. Not speaking to Husk or Cherri who were both seated at the bar alongside nifty.

“Angel.” Nette said as he went to pass by. “Yes toots?” Angel said, trying to sound like his usual cheery self. “Would you mind coming in here for a sec?” Nette could see his hesitation. Almost like he dreaded the thought of her trying to ask questions about what had happened. But Nette had learned a long time ago when it came to Angel she couldn’t ask him directly. If he wanted to talk about it he would come to her. She never wanted to push his boundaries about anything. Especially when she knew his boundaries were constantly being ignored when he was in the studio with Val. “Sure” he said before walking in and sitting at the kitchen island. “Do you want to talk about it now or later?” “Talk bout what?” Nette looked pointedly at Angel before deciding whether she would push him on the matter. Ultimately she decided she didn’t want to ask him directly as she could tell that would probably end poorly. “Why you’re wearing glasses when you never do. You’re hiding your pretty face Angel.” Angel looked towards her before sighing. Realizing Nette was one of the few people who he couldn’t hide things from. She could always see through him no matter how thick he tried to make his walls. He took off the glasses and placed them down on the island before facing Nette. As soon as he did Nette could see the deep purple bruise that circled his right eye. She immediately felt her blood boil. How her very fears from earlier had materialized right in font of her. She began thinking of 101 ways she could end that fuckers life as he fucking knew it. How she could kill him slowly with intent and make him rue the day he ever put a hand on Angel. She was deep in thought about offing a particular moth demon that she hadn’t realized Angel had started to cry. This was something Nette had only seen a few times. Upon them getting closer Angel got drunk and spilled everything about what was happening to Nette. All the way down to how he ended up in this situation due to falling in love with the moth demon, and thinking if he gave away his soul that he would be with him forever. In love. In a loving relationship, but that all changed almost immediately after signing away his soul with Val laughing in his face about love. Snapping back into reality at the sound of Angel’s sniffle, Nette immediately turned off the burner and removed the pot from the stove before walking around the counter and gently pulling Angel into a hug. Nette knew she could only offer so much comfort to the spider, but she’d rather offer some than ignore the way he felt and pretend he’s okay. She knew he always wore a mask. A mask to cover up his pain, his suffering, his anger, guilt, lies, fatigue, and even worse to hide his love. As he had been shown too many times in the past about what happens when you love someone. They become your weakness and having a weakness means someone can use it against you.

Nette let Angel cry into her shoulder. Listening to him try to speak in between sobs about what Val had done that day. About what Val had made him do that day. The words Angel said made Nette even more upset about the matter, but all she did was continue to hug him tight. Refusing to be the first to let go. After a bit Angel’s sobs turned to quieter sniffles. Cherri had walked into the kitchen seeing Angel upset and joined into the hug. She had seen him at his lows and highs. As he had done the same for her. As Angel calmed down a bit Nette could tell he was tired. Cherri offered to take him to bed after having a bath which he obliged to while attempting to apologize to Nette. Nette looked at him before gently telling him off “don’t you ever apologize to anyone for having feelings. You don’t ever have to apologize to me for feeling any way. Not even if you're sad, happy, angry, disgusted, fearful, anxious, or even surprised. You have every right to your feelings and have every right to express them.” She continued “ You hold onto too much. Try to let someone share the load. Think of your experiences like rocks. And you have a backpack. Each thing you go through adds a rock to your backpack. Some things are easier and add a rock the size of a pebble, others are harder and add a boulder. Either way holding things in causes your bag to fill up. And eventually the straps snap. No matter how strong you think your bag is, and how much you think you can carry, it will snap. And when it does you will blow up on someone. Someone you care about, and you’ll say something that you can’t take back. No matter how many times you try to, you can’t. Believe me I know. So express your emotions, and stop trying to carry everything on your own. Let your friends help you. You always try to help them so give them a chance to return the favor. Okay?” Nette smiled at him. “Ok, thank you” Angel sniffled “of course, go get cleaned up and head to bed. I can tell you're tired.” Cherri grabbed his hand and walked with Angel towards his room.

Once they had left Nette turned back towards the counter. She made her way back to the other side of the island. To in front of the pot before switching back on the stove going back to cooking. She sighed quietly to herself happy she was able to finally tell Angel something she had wanted to for awhile. She was smiling to herself before realizing she still had to talk to Lucifer about Adam. It was like whiplash how fast her mood changed. Before she realized it she had dropped her head down into her hands. She sighed to herself before deciding she would think about that later and just try to focus on cooking for now. She quickly found her mind wandering to how long it had been since she spoke to Lucifer, and she started worrying if he thought she had forgotten about dinner. She quickly finished up before plating everything and tried to start cleaning up the pots before nifty came in and shooed her away from it saying she would do it. Nette quickly thanked her. Deciding she would let her handle it without arguing she quickly picked up the plates and grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar fridge before walking up the stairs. Making her way back towards Lucifer’s office.

Taglist:

@popamolly @preciousbabypeter @amberforest08

[darkbluekies]

Hedwig asks #1

Next one Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: a little suggestive, yandere, manipulation, blackmail

How would Hedwig react if s/o left on vacation without telling her?

...what has she done to you? Hedwig will 100% freak out. She'll be so anxious and scared that she faints and won't be able to go to school. She stays shaking under her sheets with tears running down her cheeks. She'll call you hundreds of times and leave a dozens of messages where she BEGS you to answer. She's nothing without you, so why can't you just answer?! When she gets to know what you've done and why you have left her alone, she'll be so mad at you that you regret everything. She'll book her own flight and go to you because you can not escape her. Wherever you go, she goes.

How would Hedwig deal with an escape artist s/o who doesn't leave, lets say her s/o rejects her she kidnaps them and ties them up only for her to turn around and their sitting down like it's a regular Monday morning and is just like "It's pretty nice here I think I'm gonna stay😀"

"W-What did you say?" she stutters.

She can't believe how you got out of the ropes so quickly or why you aren't screaming. She'll be white as a ghost trying to understand that you're staying voluntarily. Suddenly, she'll feel ashamed of kidnapping you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I-I thought that ... you know ... that you didn't want to be with me. You rejected me ... remember? But I'm not mad! Not anymore! Not when you accepted to stay. I will make up for the bruises you got. I apologize for that. Should I get the first aid kit?"

would like to see a scenario where readers parents are protective and wary of rich people bc they think rich people look down on people and hedwig tries to get them to like her

You try to convince your parents that Hedwig is different, but they're not buying it. 'Every rich person is the same, only caring about themselves', they say.

Hedwig has invited them over for dinner to show how well mannered and down to earth she is. Or that's at least what she hopes she is. You're trying to calm her down, but winning your parents over means everything to her. She wants to be the perfect daughter in law.

When they come over, Hedwig is on her best behavior. You think she's acting silly, being too friendly, too well behaved. It's unnatural. Your parents are reserved and quiet. You can see their eyes light up slightly when Hedwig tells them that the chef has prepared their favorite meal. She adds on that you've helped her make this special.

During the dinner, Hedwig asks your parents questions and tries to hold back her usual talk about things she does. She doesn't want to seem unrelatable. She engages in conversations, just like she does when talking to you, and gives appropriate comments. It almost feels rehearsed.

Hedwig even gives them a gift. Nothing flashy, nothing expensive. Just a box of chocolate as a 'thanks for coming'. She gives you a hopeful look. Maybe your parents will start to change their attitudes about her.

Can you do Hedwig and her s/o who doesn’t know what to do with their life? Like any career doesn’t really interest them

You sigh, rolling over on your stomach to let the sun grace your back.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Hedwig asks from the towel beside you.

"Nothing, I've just had time to think now that we're free from school and ... I realized that I don't know anything. I don't know what I want to be, i don't know myself and I don't know how the world works. I don't think school prepared me for anything."

Hedwig sighs and sits up to look at you. Her white bikini glows against her sunkissed skin. Hedwig thought that you and her could spend the first week of summer break at her house by the pool.

"You don't have to stress", she says. "It's not like you will become homeless. You have all the time in the world to figure out what you'd like to do ... but you could just be a stay at home partner. I wouldn't mind. I can always pay for the both of us. You could dive deeper into your hobbies instead of working!"

Hedwig won't admit out loud that she'd rather have you be a stay at home partner than go out into the big, scary world every day to work a heartless job. She doesn't want to share you with the world.

"Do you know what you want to be?" you ask her.

"I don't have to be something", Hedwig smiles back. "I have enough money to last a lifetime. But ... you're right. It's boring being able to do everything you want anytime you want it. Getting a job would make me a bit more occupied. Model, maybe?"

"You seem to have an idea at least."

"Darling ... you don't have to stress it. I have a wonderful future planned for us. We're going to go on a lot of vacations and just enjoy life. Doesn't that sound nice? Don't stress about it. Just stay with me and you won't have to worry."

Hedwig trying to explain to reader why they would make an amazing couple and family

If the laws of physics doesn't bend to her will, she'll force them to bend :)

If I may what is Hedwig's finger size??? Asking for research purposes obviously ☺️ (HEDWIG PLEASE MARRY ME IM SO GAY FOR YOUUUWUVVVWWBINFRRFCE💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💖💖💖)

Hm yeah, research purposes oBVIOUSLY. hedwig will marry you in a heartbeat.

How would Hedwig react to a teasing reader marking her neck. And then when things start to get even more passionate, they just completely stop and walk away like nothing happened

Her entire body will go weak with your touch. She'll start to use grabby hands to get you closer and whine. She's pudding in your hands. You pull her closer, making sure to put pressure points where you know she likes them only to let her go and walk away. She blinks in confusion.

"Y-Y/N, no, don't leave! You can't leave me like this! Y/N, come back! Please!"

Hey ! I love your fic about hedwig and the f-boy, and after reading it I wondered what would happen if he actually leaves her because she broke his trust ??Ps: your blog is so pretty &lt;3

[thank you so much!!]

oneshot this is based off of

She won't let him. Hedwig's a fantastic manipulator, but if he can see through that ... she'll take drastic measures and keep him with her. She'll blackmail, kidnap and convince him.

"I'm sorry for everything, Y/N. You know I love you. A lot. That's why I'm doing this. You have to understand that what I'm doing is the right thing. Now, please open your mouth so I can feed you."

How do you think hedwig would react if her darling wasn't into women

Hedwig would be so sad. In her perfect world, you love her and she loves you, but if you're not into women, she'll try to act platonic with you. if she can't have you romantically, she'll at least have you as her friend. She can't imagine a life without you in it and will do her best to be the person you want her to be.

GOSHHH, I LOVE HEDWIG SO MUCH..I just wanna spend a day just purely spoiling her with attention. You write so well!! It made me developed a hunger for this type of writing. 😖

Oh my god thank you so much! i'm so glad you like both Hedwig and the writing <333

[desultory-novice]

Have you gone over your interpreted dynamics that Magolor, Susie and Taranza may have with each other? (asking for 1-on-1 each, so three dynamics total)

My apologies if you've gone over them already, I just don't recall.

I have not!

In fact, I don't think I've done many character + character dynamics, so please, everyone interested, I request you send me even more combos! (Must...clean all this angst...off my dashboard...!)

Now then! Onto the dynamics!

-

Magolor + Susie

[Continued Below]

These two are possibly my favorite dynamic-holders of the Wave 3 gang! You've got your classic red oni blue oni except that Magolor is the exuberant one and Susie is the (slightly) more reserved!

Magolor is interested in ancient tech for its ability to make his dreams come true. Susie is interested in turning it INTO something that can be used to make dreams come true. Re-use vs repurpose.

And I think that old tech > new tech disparity would be at the center of their dealings with each other. (Frankly, everyone in the cast is "old tech" compared to Susie but someone has to be at the top XD)

Susie operates on a planetary scale: "How can my (father's) company be used to make things better?" whereas Magolor is very "I will make a thing that people will come to from all over to feel better!"

They're so near to each other's way of thinking but fundamentally different in a few ways that means they don't quite see eye to eye. But I think they can absolutely get involved in long drawn out discussions that involve lots of "Yes! And...!"

Clash indicates to us that Magolor DOES find Susie somewhat pesky. I can't help but wonder if part of that comes from a (potentially incorrect) assumption that Susie must have had EVERYTHING she ever wanted while Magolor had to dig around in the dirt of Halcandra alone for X number of years hoping to find a magic theme park building doohickey amongst the wreckage. (We know Susie's childhood was anything but ideal but HE doesn't.)

I guess DX josses the idea that the two of them met while Magolor was wandering AD, which is a shame as that was a very neat headcanon, but even if they had, I always assumed it would have been a neutral/short-lived partnership. Not enough to dramatically change their feelings toward one another.

...I also think that Susie will be constantly looking for opportunities to opportunities to turn the Lor Starcutter pink (which it wouldn't necessarily mind, but Magolor is vehemently against!) So, yeah, I would say "great collaborators when they're working together but not all the time, and Magolor is usually the one to snap first."

-

Susie + Taranza

I've said I only "ship" one ship in this fandom, and that's true, but I am also guilty of thinking, "Susie/Taranza kinda makes sense, right?"

I mean, he very much seems to be preparing himself to flirt (?) with her in the Star Allies opening sequence. He's looking for a new queen to worship, and would Susie find that so awful, really...?

Not that I want to characterize Taranza as a pitiful loser simp-type for her, so I think it would be nice if they approached each other on more equal terms. In this case, I would think that  their dynamics come from a shared appreciation for beautiful things.

If you were to stick all three in one living space, Susie and Taranza would be the neat freaks, making sure everything is organized (and laid out in an aesthetically pleasing fashion too!) meanwhile Magolor lives on half-finished energy drinks and sleeps on the floor. XD

They are also, obviously, notable for being the two major characters in the modern games to have lost a loved one on-screen in a big Kirby game event. They really should be allowed to use this to bond.

And I'd like to think they have.

So they're kind of low-key get along. Nothing bombastic - they don't set the world on fire with how good they get along, but you're not too surprised when you see them out shopping together either.

-

Taranza + Magolor

I have a LOT of thoughts about the wizards. (In fact, I keep creating backstories for these two, because despite there being a few dedicated fans of this ship, I don't see a whole lot of people dig into Magolor having a shared backstory with Tara and Secty?!)

Despite that, my feelings on them tend to change depending upon how important I find giving them a potential backstory together. Because when on screen they feel very... neutral? They don't have the dynamism of Magolor and Susie's potential clashes, nor the obvious "lonely spider seeks confident beautiful queen" of Taranza and Susie.

Clash!Taranza sits on Magolor's shoppe, chilling out, and that is... really the best way I can describe them? They are very chill.

The concept of them talking deep magic with each other is interesting, but Taranza is a follower type of character. Someone who needs someone to be a catalyst before he will go off.

Magolor could be that for him, but I think Magolor needs to get in over his head first before he will go to Taranza for assistance.

Having said that, I think that what these two have over the other Wave 3 pair dynamics is the highest level of TRUST.

I once read a Japanese doujin about Magolor that was, frankly, even more depressing than MY most depressing works (if you know, you know, but I'm not linking it) but there was a moment when Magolor talks to Taranza about a serious issue and watching the two talk serious to each other (interspersed with some moments of comic melodrama from Taranza) was utterly FASCINATING~

I don't think they become their "true" selves to each other often, but I think that when they do talk about srs business, they are two of the strongest characters in the whole cast to do so...! (Which is probably why I would never "ship" them in the classical sense? I don't see them as going out on dates or sharing the same dessert or coffee shop stuff. When they are at their "closest" they are discussing forbidden history or the skeletons in their prospective closets....)

So, on the surface? They have a very vanilla friendship with nothing to stand out. But these two COULD (if they wanted to) get up to stuff so cursed it would drive even Marx from the room.

[idabbleincrazy]

We Make Our Own Destiny: Ageless

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: E (overall)

Pairing: Clex

Characters: Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, Martha Kent, Jonathan Kent, Lana Lang, Evan, LuthorCorp staff

Word Count: 5041

Warnings: angst, emotional h/c, s4 au, episode rewrite, Lana is trying, so is Jonathan, fluff

Summary: Evan and his found family visit the LuthorCorp labs. Lana and Clark talk. Lex comforts where he can.

Chapter Four:

The next morning saw the little farmhouse in a buzz of action. Martha hadn't come home until Clark was already making his bed on the couch after checking in on Evan, so he had only told her the gist of what had happened while she was at the Talon before she headed to bed. Amazingly, Lex had woken with the dawn along with Clark and the two of them were soon busy getting boxes unpacked, sorting through the clothes and toys Lex had ordered the night before. 

Evan had awoken by the time they were done, and Lex had happily volunteered to bathe and dress the boy as Clark sped through his usual chores before his parents woke. Lana had stopped by just as Martha was putting the coffee on and listening avidly to Jonathan's retelling of the night's events, so as Lex bundled Evan down the stairs, he and Lana took him out to the barn to keep him occupied and to give Clark some privacy with his parents to discuss the more tenuous aspects of the situation. Lex felt a wave of gratitude through the bond, and he tried to convey a comforting hug in return.

The scientists Lex had emailed were currently in a bustle of their own, getting equipment ready. They had estimated they would have everything set up by noon, so Lex had convinced Clark and Lana to head off to school after breakfast and come back at lunch to accompany him and Evan to the lab.

“Where is Evan now?” Martha asked as she set out makings for a quick lunch for her growing brood.

Clark did a quick scan as he grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

“In the loft with Lex and Lana. And, Mom, I've never seen anything like it. Last night he was just a baby, and then suddenly, he's ready for first grade. Speaking, and apparently he's able to read already.”

“His growth spurt was really amazing.” Jonathan came into the kitchen, washing his hands as he spoke.

“And frightening.” Martha paused in her preparations, turning to look at Clark and Jonathan. “Evan needs to be seen by a doctor. We have to take him back to the hospital.”

“What are we gonna tell the doctors, Mom, he's some second generation meteor freak? He'll either wind up in Belle Reve or a laboratory for the rest of his life.”

“I don't know, Clark, but we owe it to him to do something.” Jonathan dried his hands on a dish towel and stood beside Martha.

“Look, I need you guys to hear me out on this before you go shooting me down. Lex has agreed to have his meteor-focused scientists take a look at Evan. He’s having the lab set up to look into what caused the sudden aging. He’s just as worried as the rest of us about the little guy, and wants to find out if he's okay.”

Jonathan sighed heavily, torn.

“Clark, I realize that Lex has helped us in the past, and that me and him have been trying to get on a better footing with each other, but I'm not sure I'm ready to just put this young man's life in his hands. I'm not sure I trust him that much yet.”

Clark pushed down the anger he felt rising at his father's obstinacy when it came to Lex, he didn't want the emotion to bleed into the bond and worry Lex. 

“Dad, if I were in trouble and Lex was the only one who could help, what would you do? Lex has helped out so much already, and besides, don't you think if he had any evil intentions towards Evan, they would both already be gone? He cares about him just as much as any of us. More. The way he is with Evan, it's like he…like he's found something he's been missing all his life, Dad. I trust that he would never intentionally do anything to hurt Evan.”

Jonathan thinks about it, seeing Clark's point, recalling how Lex had been with the baby the past two days, and how eager he was this morning to take charge in caring for the boy. He hadn't seen such a quick attachment since Martha had picked Clark up in the middle of a chaos-ridden field. 

Martha watched Jonathan consider Clark's words, ready to interject on Lex’s behalf if her husband got stubborn. She had seen Lex with Evan, saw the light in his eyes that hadn't existed before. Martha had always seen how Lex was, deep down. He'd never admit it willingly, but the young man needed to be needed, a caregiver through and through. He had all this love locked up inside him, and needed someone to let him share that love. And what better conduit for all that unconditional love than a child? Yes, she knew Lex would do anything he could for Evan, just like she would do anything for Clark.

“Alright. We'll give Lex the benefit of a doubt on this. But, I swear, if he hurts one hair on that boy's head-”

“He won't, Dad. And, thanks.” Clark swiftly kissed his mom on the cheek and hugged his dad, before running off to get the others for lunch.

Martha smiled at Jonathan, pecking him on the lips.

“They'll be fine, Jonathan. Lex isn't the monster you've imagined him to be. He's not his father, and you just need to keep looking beyond his name to see that. Clark and Lana are growing up, and Lex is still so young himself. The three of them will do the best they can for Evan, we just have to be there if they need us.”

“I'm trying, Martha, I just…”

“I know.”

Clark walked up the steps to the loft, silently, not wanting to interrupt the scene he'd spied. Evan is sitting on the couch, sandwiched between Lex and Lana, reading aloud from a storybook. Lex’s arm is wrapped loosely around the boy's shoulders, and Lana is staring down at him in quiet amazement.

"You must be very kind to him, to teach him all he needs to know in Rabbit Land, for he is going to live with us forever and ever."

“You know how to read?”

Evan sets the book down in his lap, looking up at Lana.

“I've already read all of Clark's old books, and most of the new one's Lex got me, but this is my favorite. I also like the encyclopedia.”

Lex let out a chuckle, ruffling Evan's hair proudly. Clark could feel the swell of pride through the bond. Lex looked over the back of the couch towards Clark and winked. 

“The encyclopedia, huh?” Lana is smiling down at Evan, not sure whether the boy is being genuine or spinning tales. “That's a pretty long book.”

“I know. I stopped at W. Windmills. Did you know they were invented in Persia?” 

Lana lets out a soft gasp and looks from Evan to Lex. Lex nods, confirming the unbelievable. He had been up here with Evan for hours, watching him devour book after book, like a real live Matilda. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Um…” Lana shakes off the surprise, smiling down at Evan. “You are a very, very special boy, Evan. I think that you are the most special little boy that I have ever met.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Evan looks from Lana to Lex, and Lex nods in agreement. “And you're really lucky, because there are so many more books for you to read and so many places for you to see.”

“Like what?” Clark can't help but grin from his hiding place at the excitement in Evan's voice.

“Like a real windmill. And when you stand up on top of it, the whole world stretches out around you.” Lana thinks fondly of the windmill in Chandler's field, where Clark had taken her, despite his own fear of heights, just to show her that they weren't as cut-off from the rest of the world as she had thought, Metropolis sparkling, bright and alive, in the relatively near distance. 

“Can we go? Right now?”

Clark takes that as his cue, clomping up the rest of the steps, pretending he hadn't been skulking in the shadows. 

“Where are you going?”

Evan jumps off the couch and runs into Clark's instinctively offered embrace. Lex stands and follows at a more sedate pace, safe enough in Lana's knowledge of them to hug Clark in greeting as the teen lifts Evan up.

“Dad! Mom and Papa are taking me to see a real windmill! Wanna come?”

Startled by the assigned titles, Clark carries Evan back to the couch next to Lana. Lex, Lana, and Clark exchange uneasy glances as the two men settle on the couch beside Evan.

“Um, Evan, listen. We're not your real parents.”

“Everyone's supposed to have parents, and they're supposed to love each other very much, just like you all do. I felt it, last night.”

Lex and Clark shared an awkward look with Lana, the young woman feeling the loss of Clark sharply once more. 

“The three of us care about you a lot, Evan. That's what matters.”

Evan looks between them, a heavy sadness on his face.

“If Lana's not my mom, and neither of you are my dad, where are they?”

Lex takes Evan's hand in his, his heart aching for the boy. 

“We don't know. But wherever they are, I'm sure they love you very much.”

“We even have a friend of ours helping to find them, okay?”

Lana leaned over and pressed a kiss to Evan’s forehead, the tension breaking as Evan made a very age-typical yuck face. Clark stood, picking Evan up again and hefting him onto his hip as the trio headed for the stairs.

“Hey, after lunch, you want to go for a ride in the truck?”

“Are we going to the windmill?!”

“Uh, we will. But first, Lex wants to show you where he works. We've got some things we need to figure out about you, and Lex has people who work for him who know a lot about people who are special, like you, and how to help them.”

“Oh, like a hospital? I'm not sick, am I? I mean, I don't feel sick.”

“That's…that's what we want to make sure of, buddy. It's not a hospital, though. It's Lex's personal lab. You'll be safe there.”

Lex felt Clark's apprehension and tried to soothe it, but considering his own anxiety, it may not have worked as well as he hoped. He followed Lana and Clark back to the house, trying to keep his emotions off his face. 

The second they all stepped into the house, it was hard for the three of them to focus on their worry. Evan was taken into Martha's smiling embrace, cooed over as was expected, before being led to a table laden with sandwiches, fruit salad, and a plate of fresh baked cookies. Milk was set out for Evan, coffee poured for everyone else, and Evan dug in dutifully as the three younger adults let themselves be buoyed by the happier atmosphere. 

They decide it would be easier for all of them to pile into Lana's Envoy, Clark sliding in beside Evan in the backseat as Lex took the passenger seat. Lana drove up to the fertilizer plant in anxious silence, steering at Lex's directive towards the back parking lot closest to the laboratory that was expecting them. 

Inside the lab, a man in a crisp white lab coat hurries over to greet them. Lex is wearing his business mask, but Clark can feel the trepidation thrumming through their connection, the older man just worried as he and Lana. 

“Dr. Turner, I trust everything is ready?”

“Of course, Mr. Luthor. If you'll just follow me.”

Dr. Turner leads them across the lab to a room at the back, and Clark fights back a rush of fear at the sight of the stark metal table he sees through the room's glass walls. Machines lined up around the table, beeping and whirring, and Lex has to place a hand at the small of Clark's back before he remembers to breathe. Lana looks over at him in confusion, Evan's hand in hers as she leads the boy along. 

“It's okay, Clark. I promise.”

Clark gives Lex a discreet smile and nod of thanks at his whispered comfort, following the others into the room a little less dizzily.

Lana helps Evan out of his shirt at the doctor's direction, lifting him up onto the table so that Dr. Turner can attach the wire leads to his chest and start gathering readings from the various machines. Evan lays back on the table and Lex takes a blanket from a nearby chair, covering the boy from the sterile cold. 

Another of Lex’s scientists steps in, and Lex gestures at Clark and Lana to follow him out into the hall. They watch as the new guy injects Evan with a syringe of clear fluid, Lana cringing in empathy as the boy grimaces at the pinch. Beyond the minor discomfort though, Evan seems unfazed, looking over at them and waving.

“I hope we've done the right thing.” Clark can't help but be twitchy in this place, despite Lex's assurances, the fear of experimentation too ingrained. He's grateful for the soundproofing of the glass. “If we put him through all this for nothing…”

Lex pulls Clark into a loose hug, guiding him and Lana to a sitting area nearby.

“Clark, it looks a lot worse than it is, I swear. I won't let them do anything more than take a few blood samples and readings. Just to conclude whether Evan is indeed meteor-affected and if this is going to happen again.”

Lana watches Lex being so gentle with Clark, squashing down the residual jealousy as she realizes how much Clark needs someone like Lex. Someone to take care of things when he couldn't, someone to lean on. Things she had always needed from him, but didn't yet have the strength to give in return. 

Just as Clark is assuring Lex that he's just being a worrywort, Dr. Turner comes out to request that he speak to Lex. He waves the doctor off ahead of him and presses a quick kiss to Clark's temple, hugging Lana mostly as an afterthought. 

Lana sits down next to Clark, bumping his shoulder playfully. Clark flashed her a quick smile, nudging her back.

“Hey. You really love him, don't you?”

“Lex? Yeah, I do. I'm sorry, Lana, that I-”

“Don't. Don't be sorry, Clark.” Lana reached over and took Clark's hand in hers. “I see how the two of you look at each other, and I realize…you've always looked at each other that way. You look…happy. Like you both finally found peace. I'm sorry I couldn't be the one to give you that, but I'm glad you found someone who could. I won't say I wasn't surprised, or that I'm not a little bit jealous, but I won't tell anyone about it, and I won't go all Fatal Attraction on you. You deserve this happiness, Clark, you both do.”

“Thanks, Lana, really. But, you deserve happiness, too.” Clark squeezed her tiny hand gently, his smile turning sad. “I'm sorry that we didn't work out, even after I said that things would be different. I'm sorry you couldn’t find with Jason, what I found with Lex. I do feel love for you, Lana, just…”

“Not the same as you feel for Lex. I get it, Clark. If we're both honest with ourselves, I think we've always been meant to only be friends. We saw each other as an ideal, what we thought we wanted, but didn't see we weren't what we needed. And, hey, I'll find my own Lex someday, I can be patient.”

Clark stood, pulling Lana up with him and into a hug, kissing the top of her head. He would always care about her, but Lex was the one he had chosen, and probably always would. Lex was the one person who, when Clark thought about losing them, the prospect hurt more even than Alicia's death had. More than Kyla's. The thought of losing Lana that way stung, but not in that soul-crushing, can't breathe around the pain in my heart, kind of way that losing Lex would bring. 

“Still friends?”

“Always, Clark.”

“Good. Let's go check on Evan.”

As they walked back towards the glass room, Lana chuckled ruefully. 

“You'd think after the past four years, I'd be used to this kinda stuff, but these past few months have definitely been the strangest yet.”

“And for Smallville, that's saying something.”

Looking through the window, Lana squeezes Clark's hand, worried at the expression on Evan's face.

“Clark, he looks so scared. I hate doing this to him.”

“So do I, but it shouldn't take long. Lex has his best scientists working on this.”

Just then, Lex comes down the stairs at the back of the lab and steps up beside them. His face is a mix of wonder and fear. Clark can feel the warring emotions wafting off the older man, his own anxiety ramping up.

“And they've already come up with some intriguing, albeit startling, discoveries.”

“Lex, is he gonna be alright?”

Lex doesn't answer right away, looking from Lana to Clark, and turns his head to watch Evan for a moment.

“Lex, tell us what's happening.”

Lex sighs and pulls his gaze away from the boy being poked and prodded at, pushing away memories of those agonizing months he'd spent in the hospital after the meteor shower. 

“I had them looking at the data based on my theory about that flash of light we saw just before we found Evan. The results are only preliminary, but everything indicates that Evan's body is storing energy, like a battery charging.”

“Charging for what?” Lana's voice is full of fear, and Lex lays a hand on her shoulder, uncertain how to comfort her.

“The conclusion we've come to is that once enough energy is stored, it's expended to fuel a burst of extremely rapid cell division.”

“That's how he was able to go from a baby to a seven year old in one day.”

Lex nods at Clark, knowing Clark is struggling to keep his angst from flooding the bond.

“Is there any way to stop it?”

“My team believes a bone marrow transplant might slow the growth and bring his metabolism back to normal.”

“Can they use my bone marrow”, Lana asks. “If I’m a match?”

“Well, it's not that simple. His genetic makeup is highly unusual. For this to work, we'll need an exact match with a living donor, which means a biological parent.”

“Chloe found the recording of an emergency call made just before we found Evan.” Clark frowned, and Lex's heart surged at the pain in his voice. “We think his mother died when he was born. We're still trying to find his father, it sounded like he ran off just before the explosion.”

“What's going to happen to Evan if we can't find him?”

Before Lex can answer, the lights in the lab start flickering. A huge blast from the room sends one of the doctors flying through the glass window and he falls to the floor in the hallway between them.

“Evan!”

The three of them hurry through the shattered window, to Evan's bedside where he is sitting up. Lana touches his arm, shocked.

“Evan”, her voice a whisper of disbelief.

“Unbelievable.”

Clark can't even find words as he stares at Evan from Lex's side. Sitting up on the metal table is a teenaged Evan, the blanket pooling precariously around his waist. Eyes wide with fear and confusion, Evan looks between the three he's grown to consider parents, then down at his hands.

“What's wrong with me?” His voice is deeper, cracking slightly in the middle, puberty in action.

Dr. Turner steps up beside Lex, a little less flabbergasted than anyone else in the room.

“We can have the Level Three facility prepared for his immediate transfer, Sir.”

“No. You're not taking him anywhere.” Lex promised Clark Evan wouldn't be made to feel like an experiment, and God knew the boy had to feel overwhelmed enough right now. “I’m having that sector shut down for a reason, and I will not have him subjected to that environment.”

Clark takes off his jacket and puts it around Evan's shoulders, relief coursing through him and through the bond. 

"But Sir, we need to isolate him while we run more tests. If this happens again-”

“I just want to go home.” Evan is gripping Clark's hand tight, tears welling in his eyes.

“Turner, he's just a boy. I said no. Any other tests can be run with the samples you've already taken.”

“We understand you're trying to help, and we appreciate it.” Clark looks at the doctor, ready to act if he doesn't concede to Lex's orders. “But he's been through enough. We're taking him home.”

Lex stares Dr. Turner down as the scientist splutters, trying to convince the CEO to change his mind. Clark and Lana help Evan off the bed and walk him out of the lab, Lex striding behind them without another word to the frustrated doctor.

Evan is set in the front seat of Lana's car, Lex adamant about joining Clark in the back. He can feel Clark's fear and pain seeping through the bond despite the brunette's efforts to hide it, and as the SUV passes the gates of the plant, Lex wordlessly draws Clark into his embrace, letting him sag against his side. Lips to the young man's forehead, he whispers an attempt at comfort.

“We'll figure this out, Clark. I swear, we'll do everything we can to keep him safe.”

Once back at the Kent farm, Evan darts out of the car and up to Clark's loft, the young boy apparently finding it as much a place of comfort as Clark always had. The trio of concerned adults drag themselves from the vehicle, various lost looks in their eyes. Inside the kitchen, Clark mutters something about clothes and heads towards the stairs. With an apologetic glance at Lana, Lex follows after. 

Lex shuts the door quietly behind them, even as he hears Martha joining Lana downstairs. He feels slightly better that she has someone to vent to now, but Clark is his priority. Watching Clark rummage through his closet, clothes discarded in a blur, he waits. It doesn't take long.

Halfway through the top drawer of his dresser, Clark crumpled into himself, falling to his knees in stages, a broken sob renting the air. Lex is there instantly, kneeling beside him, drawing him into his arms. He feels Clark's pain through the bond as the brunette finally lets his barriers down, knows his own is felt by Clark when the hands that had gripped at his shirt loosen to wrap around his back instead. They sit there, in the middle of Clark's room, surrounded by shirts and jeans, holding onto each other like a lifeline. Soundless tears streak Lex's face, counterpoint to the sniffles and weeping coming from the lips muffled against his salt-dampened shoulder. 

“He's gonna die, isn't he?” Clark's voice is hoarse when he finally speaks, thick with the agony of the loss he knows is coming. “It's not fair, Lex. What good are all these powers if I can't use them to save people like Evan?”

“I know, Clark, I know it's not fair. And, I know it hurts. But you can't save everyone, Clark. Sometimes, people die, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it.” Clark's face is nestled into his shoulder now, and Lex lays his cheek on top of his head. “The world isn't always fair; sometimes it takes good people away too soon. Innocent people. Children, like Ryan, like Julian, and like Evan. Like Kyla and Alicia. And, you can't always stop it. And, it hurts. It's a pain that doesn't completely go away, that only lessens, but lingers for as long you remember them. But, we can live for them, make it so they don't die in vain. We can be happy again, because they would want us to be. Trust again, because they wouldn't want us to hide ourselves away from the world. We can care about and love other people, even knowing we could lose them, because those we've lost wouldn't want us to be alone.”

Clark sniffled again, blinking away the tears that blurred his vision as he lifted his head. He remembered the promise that he had made to Ryan, when they were drifting high above Smallville. To not be angry or sad at his loss, to never give up. He pushed away the pain again, letting Lex's comfort and words bolster him against the urge to just give up. 

“So, no, it's not fair that this happened to Evan. But it's not over. We still could find his biological father, get him to help us save him. My team could still find another way to stop this. Listen for him, hear his heartbeat. As long as you can hear that, and as long as we keep trying, it's not over. But right now, there is a fourteen year old boy up in that loft, alone and scared, and waiting for the only people he's seen as parents to come help him, to comfort him. Evan needs us, Clark. He needs a change of clothes, and the three people who care about him.”

“You're right”, Clark stands up, wiping tears from his face and pulls Lex up beside him. Brushes a quick kiss to Lex’s damp cheek. “I know, you're right. Help me pick something out for him?”

Lex gives Clark a watery smile and they search through the small wreckage of clothes, settling on one of Clark's older plaid shirts and a pair of worn jeans Clark had outgrown by seventh grade. None of Clarks shoes are small enough, so Lex makes a quick call for a pair of sneakers to be bought and delivered to the Kent house within the hour. 

After another few minutes of comforting each other and a tender kiss or two, they finally head back downstairs. Martha is on the couch, consoling Lana with gentle words and a hug that only a mother could give. Her head turns at the sound of Clark's boots on the steps, a sad smile on her face as she takes in their reddened eyes.

“Are you boys alright? Lana told me about Evan, I'm so sorry it happened again.”

“We're not resigned to his fate, Mrs. Kent. My men are working on a back-up in case we can't track down Evan's father.”

“Lana, we're gonna take him these clothes to change into. Give us a minute before following?”

Lana nodded, composing herself as she reluctantly straightened from Martha's loving embrace. Her motherly care had felt wonderful, something Lana had missed for so long, warmer and more real than what Nell had been capable of giving. 

Lex and Clark climbed up the steps to the loft, finding Evan still wrapped in the blanket as he huddled on the couch. He looks up at their entrance, tears shimmering in his eyes, but accepts the scrounged up clothing wordlessly and slips the boxers on under the blanket before standing. 

He's lanky, but not quite as tall as Clark had been at that age. The plaid button-up is a size too large, and the jeans will need to be rolled at the cuffs to keep him from tripping. Clark feels his heart squeeze painfully at the sight of the boy, and knows what his parents felt every time he'd outgrown another set of clothes. He feels Lex rub his shoulder, and tries to convey a look of assurance when he glances over at him. 

Evan is just settling back down on the couch as Lana joins them, sitting next to the boy and taking his hand in hers.

“I'm dying, aren't I?”

“Evan, don't say that.”

Lex settles on the arm of the couch at Evan's other side, and Clark settles on the coffee table in front of them. Both young men reach out, one hand on a knee, the other on hunched shoulders.

“No, I- I read the average lifespan of a man is seventy-four years. I've aged from a newborn to a teenager in forty-eight hours.” Evan looks between the three people he considers parents, the only people he knows, with absolute certainty, love him unconditionally. “Do the math.”

“Evan, we're not gonna give up. Lex has got his team working on a cure right now.”

“And if we can find your father…”

Evan stands up and walks over to the window, his back to them. He knows they just don't want him being scared, but he's trying to be realistic, trying to tell them not to get their hopes up.

“Do you really think they're gonna find a cure for me overnight? It's like my life was just some sort of trick that was played on me! All that stuff I read in the books that I thought I was gonna see...I'm not…” He turns around to face them. “Am I?”

“Don't talk like that, all right? We just have to keep trying.”

“It's not fair. This whole thing...it's just not fair!”

Evan runs down the stairs and out of the loft. He needs to get away. Their hope is too hard to bear.

Lana looks between Lex and Clark, lost. 

“We have to do something. We can't just let this happen to him.”

“Would you go see if he's okay? I need to find his father.”

Lana nods and hurries after Evan. Lex stands and Clark pulls him into a brief hug.

“While you go get Chloe's help on tracking down Evan's dad, I'll head back to the plant. See if they've made any progress.” Lex hands Clark a burner cell. “Call me if there's any luck with Chloe.”

Clark rushes out of the barn as Lex calls for a car to come pick him up.

*****

@leatafandom

[elementaskylos345]

Urik's Journal

A series of stone tablets that carry the weary words of one man isolated at the top of the Watcher's Spire, struggling to survive and struggling to keep his mind.

This is written specifically with a humanized au in mind, so don't freak out when things have bones

!!Trigger Warnings in tags!!

Higher beings these words are for you alone.

Not really, but it feels like only higher beings can survive this madness. For those that find this journal collection in the future I am Urik, assistant to Lurien the Watcher. So much has happened over the last few months and everything is so overwhelming right now. So. I've decided to begin journaling to gather my thoughts and keep myself sane.

So, day 1, I suppose. I'm trying to keep quiet so the husks outside don't claw at the door. Thankfully the stone of these tablets is soft enough to chisel and not make too much noise. I don't think I'm in any real danger but I hate that noise. Knowing they were once my friends and coworkers makes their shambling and mumbling and feral clawing utterly unbearable. I can't stand that I know it's them out there.

Despite everything the king has done, sacrificing so many, the infection remains. it was all in vain. I can only hope that this infection is not happening in other kingdoms.

•••

Day 2

With the telescope in this room I can watch the ground even from this great height… I hate it. I wish I could put an end to this. So many people die every day. I can't see fine details but I can see enough. I don't know if I can say I'm lucky, trapped at the peak of the tallest building in the city but at least I'm safe. I don't think I'll be watching the ground below.

On a vaguely related note I'm beginning to run low on food. Though this may only be the second day of the journal I have been stuck in Lurien's room for what I think is a few months now. I'm down to just a few bags of the rations that were handed out. Thankfully it's pretty nonperishable so I can stretch it out over a week or two I think but I need to figure something out quickly. Getting food last time nearly got me killed. I'm no fighter, I'm just a man.

•••

Day 4

I've skipped day 3 as nothing interesting occurred but I eat fresh meat today. I managed to lure a vengefly inside using some of the dried mushroom and managed to cage it. I still need to actually kill and prepare it but I still managed to catch something! Vengeflies don't fly this high up enough to make this method consistent but this is still progress.

I will need to venture outside of this room and possibly outside of the tower. If I keep my distance I might be able to get by without conflict but I don't count on it. The husks outside still seem to have some function of the mind left. They speak things on rare occasions, calling on Master Lurien or even myself.

•••

Day 5

By the king I miss seasoning. But I live another day and feel better than I have in weeks. Maybe it's in my bead but the fresh food feels good. However, I still need a consistent source of food. If I can get down to the bridge or just above I could set up a few traps there. I'd need to make traps and get past the guards but it seems a decent enough plan. I'll think of some back-up ideas but that one feels very plausible.

•••

Day 8

The plan did not work. I made a few traps that worked somewhat consistently in tests and caught one vengefly but when I made my journey down to the bridge I was attacked by one of Elite Guards. I lost the traps and now have a nasty gash across my back. I think I can treat this and prevent infection but this is bad. I'm sat against Lurien's resting podium. He cannot help me but his presence is comforting…

I dread what might happen in the coming days.

•••

Day 10

I am in a great deal of pain.

Day 11

I stepped out onto the balcony today. I intended to wash the wound on my back but I stood outside for a good while feeling the rain fall on me. I wept. My situation is bleak. I am alone, I have dwindling supplies, there is nothing but death, and there is no end in sight. I feel the infection swimming in the back of my mind, tempting me closer. I hate this. I hate it all. So much death and so much pain all from one angry and spiteful god. I can't help but ask why. Why us? What crime did we commit to warrant this violent reaction?

I think I'm going to sleep for a while. I'm so tired. I know it's risky to dream but I'm not sure what I live for at the moment.

•••

I've lost track of the days. The timer system in the tower broke down and I've not the skill to repair it. It has been at least 3. I am out of food. I've tried to trap a vengefly but with no luck. I'm not exactly sure what to do. I'm scared to leave the room. I'd pray to the Pale King but he won't answer. He can't help me. He's already failed his kingdom. What could he do to help me?

•••

I need to do something. The rainwater is plenty abundant and rich in minerals but it simply isn't enough. I could sneak into one of the floors below. I need to. I will bring one of the candle holders as a weapon. If I perish… oh well I suppose

A few hours later. I was unsuccessful but I did fend off a Lance Sentry and steal her weapon. It's not food but I guess I'm better prepared for a dangerous encounter? I'll try again soon. Maybe. I'm exhausted mentally so I might go hungry another day.

•••

I'm going out again. It is the next day I'm pretty sure. I'm going to get something.

I found some dried mushrooms near the Watcher Knights. It's not much but I'll take it. I'm beginning to regret hiding up in the tower and not attempting to flee while there were enough people between me and the husks to attempt to break past the walls. But I couldn't abandon Lurien. He may not need me now but I feel I have a moral obligation to remain at his side. I still need to hunt for food since I ate all I found. Hopefully I can lure in a vengefly or something.

••▪︎

Ask and you shall receive. Captured and cooked a vengefly. I feel energized so I might go down to try and retrieve the traps I dropped. In hindsight trying to set the traps up so far away was a poor decision. They might catch something but they're pointless if I can't reach them. It may not be the best source of food but I might set the traps up either by the telescope or balcony. I'll try the balcony. Hopefully the infection has made them less intelligent and they won't avoid this area after some time.

I have returned. One of them was destroyed and one was damaged. That leaves me one functioning trap. I think I can repair the trap but I'll do it later, I need to set the first one up

•••

Same day, different journal. Retrieved my broken traps and set up the one working trap. I have to admit writing and planning my survival has kept my mind busy. The infection whispers to me but I can mostly ignore it. The voice does grow louder and the light in my dreams brighter but I don't feel myself getting lost just yet. It's certainly inevitable that the infection will claim me but for now I survive. For who and for what sake I still can't say. Maybe I don't want to leave Master Lurien. He's all I have right now. I swore I'd watch over him… that's probably it. I live for him

I'm not sure if he's even aware in his eternal sleep but I will be here and I hope he knows that.

▪︎••

I've repaired the second trap and set it up. I've also scraped a bit of bone marrow out of the tiny bones of the vengefly and ate that. It tastes surprisingly good for being uncooked. The other bones have sat too long to be safe to eat but I'm taking note of this for the future.

Unrelated but I'm glad Lurien had so many stone tablets laying about. I was never a fan of the silk parchment. The humid air and wet conditions make keeping them maintained rather difficult, especially now. They may be easier to write on but they won't stand the test of time.

Back to my survival. The traps are set up and I can continue to scavenge. My wound is healing and I think I've grown used to the pain, it certainly makes getting around a bit easier. I can at least stand up straight again. I will go out and look for food and supplies after I sleep for a little bit. I have learned how to avoid the husks up here so they have become a non issue.

•▪︎•

A few scraps.

I shouldn't be surprised I'm struggling but I'm still frustrated. Food was tight before the infection got this bad so it's only logical food is tight now but this feels absurd. I know the other residents and guards had to eat and the places where the food was stored is behind danger. I'm just complaining. Of all the places to be trapped I feel like the city is probably the worst. Most of the food came from outside the city. But the king sealed the gates. He only trapped us all here. He sealed our fate.

I wish these fucking birds would just take the bait. I'm not eating nearly enough.

•▪︎▪︎

I apologize for my vulgarity in the last journal but I feel my frustration is justified. I've nibbled on one of the canvases just to lull the need to chew on something. It will not satiate my hunger and I think I just feel worse now but it felt good in the moment I think. I moved one of the traps to the telescope. Maybe them being farther apart will increase the chances I catch something - anything. I might need to do something drastic at this point

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Before I write on the subject of this journal I want to preface - I am ashamed of what I've done. I am desperate and in a situation most bleak but this does not make what I did any better.

I now have food for a few days. The way I acquired it is awful. His name was Elgor. He was in charge of overseeing the guards' scheduling in the spire. He was a kind but stern man before the infection claimed his mind. I often shared lunch with him when our schedules allowed it. I did not target his husk out of any hatred or any reason other than desperation.

I used the lance I acquired from the Sentry I fought a while ago and attacked him. He slapped me around with a surprising amount of strength but I ended the encounter as quickly as I could. I never thought I'd ever need to butcher a man let alone eat one. I had to cover his face with rags to not look at him while I did it. I question now if being a mindless husk would be better than this. At least the husks seem to be protecting each other.

▪︎▪▪︎

I am still reeling from what I've done. I hope to write a full biography for Elgor from this. I feel dirty. I feel as though I've defiled his corpse. I've noticed the husks up here seem more anxious in his absence which makes me feel worse. I'm questioning if I should've just starved. I've apologized to Elgor countless times and I can only hope some part of him somewhere knows I did not want to do this and that I regret it.

Despite my feelings I can't bring myself to ditch his body. I killed him to eat and at this point I should go through with it. I've already started. I'll give him as proper a burial as I can when I can.

•▪︎•

It has been several days. Elgor has sustained me and I've dedicated the energy he gave me to preserving his memory as best as I can. I've wrapped his body in cloth and hope I can bring him to ground level soon. I think I've made peace with what I've done, I'm not quite sure. I'm not sure I feel a whole lot right now.

I have caught one vengefly and have decided to wait until I kill and eat it. I have far more energy now so I can begin my search for a stable food source once again as I am NOT doing what I did to Elgor to someone else. I refuse to. I can't.

••▪︎

After a few more days I've finally made progress. I've gathered a few days worth of rations from one of the guards’ rest areas. This isn't anything sustainable but I'm so, so happy about this. I thank Elgor for giving me the energy I needed to get to this point. I'm also getting better at avoiding the husks.

Though the light is getting brighter, it's getting louder. She calls me by name. I'd almost forgotten my own name. I'm torn between hoping for my continued survival or giving Elgor the burial he needs. There's no way I'm getting to the resting grounds but perhaps I can send him off into one of the rivers that flow through the city. I doubt it would be the burial he'd want but I don't have much to offer.

•¤▪︎

The infection rings in my mind. I'm thinking about it more and more. So I risked it and took Elgor to the ground. It had been so long since I was on solid ground. I found a somewhat secluded area And watched his body disappear below the surface of the water. I stayed there for a while and wept for him. I feel terrible. Just a few days before the infection becomes a bigger issue I cannibalize what was left of him. The husks do not speak anymore, the only word I've heard is “attack” from the Flying Sentries, but this doesn't make things better.

I'm going to spend time with Lurien. I really need it right now.

¤•▪︎

My mind feels not my own. I fight to regain myself. All in vain. All in vain. The king failed. The king failed us all. He killed us all. I just want to go back to the way things were. I wish I could see my friends’ eyes full of life, I wish I could speak with Lurien again, I wish I could be happy again, I wish the light never descended upon this land. I miss the peace, I miss my friends, I miss my life. I'd give anything to go back to that.

פ¤

Lost all of them. Lost all. Lost. Master's given life for naught. Not worth. The cost too great cost too great. Lost all kingdom life light. None left left to grieve. Non left to give. How much more must we suffer?

¤¤¤

Master, light calls.

•°×

I'm not sure how but I still remain. This journal comes many days after the last. Maybe even weeks. Time eludes me. Reading over my last three journals and am astonished the infection didn't take me.

It is very hazy but I sat by Master Lurien and I think I was trying to fight it off. Perhaps I was thinking of what remains and how empty the future feels because I remember giving up. I so clearly remember it because that's when the infection backed off. It still rings like windchimes In my mind but it's less overbearing. I don't understand. Why am I still alive? I've never seen anyone get so close to the edge but pull themselves away.

Even as I write I don't fight it. I don't have anything to fight for. I'll update my journal series if I'm still aware and I deem it necessary I suppose.

×▪︎°

I ponder if being infected would be better than this. There is nothing for me here. There is nothing for anyone. This place is no better than the wasteland outside of the kingdom borders. At least with being a mindless husk I would not need to feel this pain. it's not even the physical pain it's the mental anguish. I cannot put into words the despair I feel

It's indescribable

I want revenge but seek revenge on a king that abandoned us. I want things to change but they will never change. I want to be happy but this hellish place will not allow that. Master Lurien, I'm sorry, but I don't know how much more I can endure. How much more I can despair. How much more I can hate. I crave a death deeper than that of the body - I don't want there to be an afterlife. The gods of this world are unbearable and I want naught for them to hold my soul. Let me fade. Let me become nothing.

*▪︎+

It has been a very long time since I've written in this specific series. My words are written elsewhere. I am in a much more stable position and state of mind. Still not a mindless husk. I acquired some edible fungus from the edge of the city and have started a small farm. I recently relocated the traps to a lower floor as I'm far more adept at navigating the spire and its dangers. I've also made more of them.

I've picked up many hobbies to keep myself occupied - painting, carving, crafting, singing. I've also explored some of the city. Most of what I've seen has been completely destroyed. I don't explore often. Not much to see unless I want to depress myself. I've fallen into a consistent routine and found a reason to continue living.

I swore myself to Master lurien. I'd be forever at his side. I think I've mentioned this in previous journals but I've decided my days will be spent preserving him and what he did for this fallen kingdom. The bastard king may have failed us and sacrificed so many, including Lurien, for nothing but Lurien was loyal to the end. He sacrificed his life for that fool. So I'll make sure his name, who he is, and what he did is not forgotten. I hope Herrah and Monomon have someone who would do the same for them as well.

×*●

Much time has passed and I once again return to my journal. I feel I need to on occasion to remember who I am and who I was before the infection became an issue. I had forgotten my name. Urik. It feels so foreign. Disconnected. I had to dig around for my first journal just to find it. This series of tablets has been discarded to a corner almost entirely. Perhaps I need to focus on myself some to reconnect with who I am.

But perhaps not. I don't think I'm that important anymore. I will live here, preserve here, and die here. Simple as that and I am at peace with and find comfort in that. There's nothing else for me so why concern myself with things that won't matter in the long run. For all I know I will be nothing more than a corpse in a month's time. It changes nothing. I've written all I can about Lurien. This will likely be the final entry in this series since I am not what matters here in this spire. What matters is my master.

@●¤

My past self is a damned fool for not realizing just how much time “the rest of my days” could be. The time gaps between these entries keeps getting longer and longer. I'm certain the time frame between the last two was almost a whole year. No clue how long it's been since I last wrote since it feels like eternity. I can only write, watch, and read and paint the same damn things over and over and over and over again until I need something new.

The infection has become something of a friend to me, one of the few constants of my life. It tells me things and I acknowledge them. Its influence over me fluctuates. Some time I am in a daze and some time I am barely affected by it. But despite everything it's done I can't see my life without it anymore. I'm definitely just lonely and borderline mad but I've nothing else to share to the no one that will read this, so.

@#■

Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above.

●¤°

What the hell was I on last entry? I don't remember writing that and just stumbled upon it in Lurien's Journal room. Maybe I was having some kind of infected bout or something. Oh well I guess

#■•

I have not experienced fear this intense in an eternity. Someone entered the spire. Someone bested the Knights below. Someone sought to hurt HURT Lurien. I managed to convince them otherwise sending them off to a strange sight I found below the city. I've locked down spire from the Knights room to up here. If that THING BASTARD comes back they aren't getting to him. To one will hurt Lurien. The seals must remain. They cannot be broken. They will not break. Never break.

@◇>

The ground shook with a might I have not felt in forever. A deep bellowing roar from the waterways. At least we're safe up here. Never breaking seals. Lurien is safe. Forever safe. The light is gone and my mind is empty. It's quiet. Quiet. Too quiet. I hate this. Why is it gone? Gone from me? I can't stand the silence. Empty empty silence. Loud and far too quiet. I need to fill the void. I can start in darkness but I need the background noise I can't stand it can't stand it can't stand it CANT STAND IT

The anger has returned. DAMNED KING

He killed us all, trapped us all, doomed us all. Nothing left for us because of him. No more life no more light. No more. Nothing but empty. Empty. I can't understand why Lurien was so loyal to a fool. A fool that used him. Doomed him. Killed him. I suffer in silence. Silent. My mind is empty, my will is shaken, and my voice is meek. But I remain. Remain at Lurien's side. Never leave. Never forget. Never abandon.

[onippep]

After

And I was just thinking, like, I actually don't know that much about you. And I admit I haven't been very open or, like, talkative to you about your interests or anything like that, because you're...

(Because I'm like you?)

Yeah, it's like, a preconceived notion that because you're some sorta replica of me, we're gonna have the same interests or whatever, and that's your whole thing. And it's not. It's not fair of me to think of you like that.

(I don't blame you for that, though. Honestly. My existence isn't exactly a one-sentence deal.)

No one's is.

Croak! (Not my point. B-but...) [chuckles]

Lost your point, didn't ya. It's not that big of a deal, anyway.

(Give yourself some credit, Peppino, I think you've done a very good job at caring about me and what I do. Just in different ways than you may be used to.)

Well-- yeah. It's the least that I owe you.

(Your care is not owed. There's no cycle to feed; my affection already has its unconditional catalyst.)

Stop gettin' philosophical with me, demon! Sheesh. I'm trying to be sweet here.

...

...Er.

Hmm!~

WHAT!

(If you want to be sweet, try actually flirting.)

Is that a challenge? Alright. I can flirt. And no, it's not croaking, I've already learned my lesson from that.

RrRRRrrrrrHRHRHHRRHHHRRR!~ (Sorry!)

[Sighing] OKAY. So. "Cutie". Uh. You come here often? Nice suit. You look nice. Handsome even. Yep. Uh huh. Wow, tall too. Double whammy. You know, everyone's taller than me, and that's fine. I like havin' a tall nasty frog to care for me all the time. Oh and the WAAAY you SNUGGLE on up to me at night; fantastic. A+. Like a weird oversized housecat. And you know just what food I like and the shows I like and how I prepare my coffee in the morning when I don't have enough time to do that before opening the store and you carry me when I'm too exhausted and you cook for me and listen to me when I gotta just yell about shit and--

[Has dissolved onto the floor]

--Ah- Oni! [laughs] Hey! Come on! [reaching into the goop] Come ooon. Is that all it takes?? That was nothing! Get back up here, you coward!

(Your face is red.)

It's-- always red! And I'm sorta tipsy! [wheezes]

(I DUNNO HOW TO TAKE THIS RIGHT NOW. ARE YOU STILL PLAYING ALONG OR NOT.)

[stops] Hhah, wh-- playing along? [flabberghasted] Nah nah nah, hey...! I agreed to come out here because I wanted to-- like... humour it! Try it! Not just because I was feelin' bad, you know?

[slowly reforming] MMmmn?... (You're. Serious?)

Y-yeah! I think...! Hah..!

RRRRBBRBBVBVVBWW. VBRVVB... S-- SO DO. UM. (DO YOU--)

Do I whaaat! [grabbing at him] Speak to meee! [chuckling]

(YOU'RE. THIS. IS. THIS IS ACTUALLY A DATE.)

Yes! YES IT IS! IT'S A DATE! I'm on a date with you!

[ugly frog shrieking]

AAHHAHAHA...!! Jeez! What was THAT?!

(Wh-what's with the change of heart?? A-and there was the whole hiding it from your family thing--)

BECAUSE I DUNNO WHAT I FEEL YET! AND-- AND BEING HERE, WITH YOU AND GUSTAVO N' BRICK, and just having so much fun, I feel like I can finally-- think! And not have some fuckin' weirdos watching me from that askbox! Or my family breathing at me! It's-- it's wild! I'M FREAKING OUT! I'M FREAKIN' OUT ONI HOLD ME--

A--BBBUHH?? [gripping him]

IT'S-- IT'S NOT. ANYTHING SERIOUS OR DECISION-MAKING TONIGHT. I JUST. WANNA DO THINGS WITHOUT-- FEELING SHAME. So just. Hold me. Alright?

O-OKAY. RRRRRR.

Everything's gonna go back to routine tomorrow, and who knows what's gonna happen. [chuckles] I don't even wanna go. I just wanna stand here.

Rrrrr... (Can you... explain a little more why you're a little... hesitant about me?)

Ah... jeez, lemme... see if I can word it right. I... have a real hard time letting people in. You see how I live. I haven't even seen Gustavo since before our window got broken. I never have people over. I don't even like talking to customers that much.

(You've gotten better at it. I wouldn't say you have gone back in such a thing, just hitting a wave where it is more difficult than usual.)

Maybe you know me more than I thought. Either way, I... I've never really been a fan of dating. Just in general. All that romance-y garbage hasn't ever worked out for me. It's like a storybook moreso than a reality. Doesn't work the way I do. It's too... strict. Closed. Weird. Ruins friendships. I've lost some good men and women to dumb shit that either I've done or they've done. It crumbles too fast and doesn't feel worth it.

(Is... forging a bond like I have in mind considered... dating?)

I dunno. Is it?

(What you're describing sounds... torturous. Nothing like what I have in mind.)

Is that so. Mind tellin' me what you have in mind, then?

Croak-- MMf-- It-- RIBBIT RIBBIT RIBBIT RIBBIT RIBBIT--

Aye, aye! Hey! [squishing his cheeks] Easy! One word at a time. Let's hear it.

RIBBIT. RIBBIT. RIBBIT. RI-- RIb--ribbit... (It's... it's... almost the same as what... we have now. Just... returned?)

That's it?

???

You're telling me this "bond" thing you've been wanting is just, what we kinda do already, but with me "returning" it? Like-- like how?

(LIKE. L-LIKE. IF. LIKE.) [sticks his tongue out]

I already "do the deed" with you.

NO NO-- [leans in, gently licks his cheek] TH-- (I DON'T KNOW THE WORD FOR IT.)

Kissing. You're thinking of kissing--

(YEAH KISSING.)

... [ponders]

HHHNNNN. HHHHHHHHH. HHHHHHN..?

... [gum click] Wow. That, uh, changes some things, actually. And here I was thinking you wanted some sort of enchanted frog prince and princess fantasy bullshit. That's what the askbox tries to make it out as, anyway.

(I'll be honest, I'm not 100% acquainted with the more mortal and human structures of that whole concept. I don't enjoy what you've told me so far.)

[more nodding]... Huh.

...

Well, uh, I got some things to think about now. [chuckles] Lotta. Things.

(Please don't let this ruin anything.)

I won't! I won't. Just forgive me if it takes a while. Heh. We gotta go into work tomorrow, and focus on that, yadda yadda... I'm gonna be a little private about it.

(Shy about it.)

Yeah. [rolls his eyes, smirking]

...

You look so nervous. Hey.

It's okay. Remember what we've gone over.

(R-REMIND ME...)

We'll see what this is. Together. Got it?

(Y-YEAH... yeah... you'resocloserightnowI'mreally--I--)

[smirks]

...

Sorry. Even with some drinks in me I still can't seem to kiss you. [chuckles]

(You tease.)

Just kidding.

[dragon-queen21]

Regressor Nagisa hc's

I am here to fill up some of the void that is the lack of agere content for assassination classroom!

~~~

~Nagisa regressing before school starts and realizes how horrible that turn of events turns out to be because now he's four and has to walk over half a mile or more to actually get to class.

~Karma taking pity on the regressor and carrying him part of the way to the class room. Dumping Nagias's backpack onto another student to carry with no warning whatso ever.

"Hey! Karma! I'm not carrying this for you!" "Too bad. Take it up with the baby." Struggling to keep Nagisa from squirming out of his grasp "If you want to take him instead be my guest." "...I'll keep the bag" "Good choice."

~They get to class really late because Nagisa wanted to stop every single time he saw a cool rock, or for Karma to lift him higher to grab a pretty leaf. And it's not as though Karma's in any hurry to get the class, in fact he's stalling or pointing out things to the regressor to keep him entertained.

~Most of the class regresses and it's almost an unspoken rule that they look after one another when someone is small. Too bad no one really explained this to any of their new teachers who are all very confused at first

~No one really thought about the consequences of showing up regressed, it never really mattered before, not like they ever had a teacher that cared about what they did during the day, and it's one of those things that slips under the radar. Now Nagisa is small and multiple people are realizing 'ah crap...'

"You're late." "And you're still surprised by this?" "As your teacher I-" "Awww Nagisa's small! It's been forever since we've seen our little man." "Please take him. Do you know how hard it is to carry him for a mile? I've done my babysitting duties for the day." (Confused Koro Sensei noises)

~The class getting very over protective of what their teacher might be thinking or say

~Koro sensei meaning while freaking out because suddenly he realizes there is a whole field of study he knows nothing about and what kind of teacher does that make him if he doesn't try and learn everything possible about mental regression and psychology and coping mechanisms and... que a couple hours worth of a crash course in psychology

~He'd probably return the next day to class and try to educate the students, only to find out they were preparing to educate him about regression.

These are kinda half headcanons, half me starting the process of making an agere fic, half me just sharing my thought process after finishing the 5th manga. Kinda all over the place. Plus I'm trying a bit of a different formatting

Also this series and danganronpa are the two series where I can remember a total of like three people's names so I have to keep looking up characters and I fsdofjsdiojf ;-;

[headpainmigraine]

do you have any tips for those who suffer from hemiplegic migraines? i feel like im going insane, and the anxiety i experience afterwards is phenomenal. i feel so terrified and alone from it

I'm so sorry, I didn't see this until just now - tumblr, it's a website that works.

Please bear with me if I tell you something you already know.

Hemiplegic migraine is a slightly different animal to other migraine types because of its mimicry of stroke symptoms, and because of that I usually avoid talking about it in any depth, because I don't have personal experience with them.

It's treatment is also a little different because the use of triptans to help the migraine is contraindicated because it restricts blood vessels, and doctors are leery of prescribing them to people suffering stroke-like symptoms

The best thing I can do in regards to helping with the actual diagnosis is point you towards people who know about these kinds of things, and not the usual mayo clinic, etc websites.

Headaches.org

The Migraine Trust

The American Migraine Foundation

All those are websites with a focus on migraine, who are more likely to give you accurate information.

I've linked what I could find there on hemiplegic migraine in particular, but it's worth having a look around them to see what info you can find.

So, a doctor/neurologist/specialist is going to be your best bet for actual physical help. Any tips I could offer would be to try the non-medicinal help for other migraines that might also help you, eg, sunglasses, cooling patches, ginger for nausea, and so on - I can talk to you a little more about them if you think that'd be helpful, if you want?

But that isn't what's bothering you though. I don't know how frequent your attacks are, or what your support situation is like at home.

I can tell you that feeling scared makes a ton of sense. Sometimes it can feel like your pain isn't going to end. I've had times when I've thought 'this is it, this is the pain that's going to kill me', and I've had hallucinations that made me doubt my reality. I can imagine part of how terrifying it is to have half of your body suddenly stop resonding to you.

It's a scary thing, and you have every right to feel scared.

And I know that it's difficult in the moment, while you're inside the thing, to have a rational conversation with yourself, but I find arming myself with knowledge is the best weapon against my freaking out when it happens.

Not knowing what's happening to you is maybe more frightening than the actual experience of what's happening to you. Learning as much as I can about the mechanisms of migraine has done a lot to help me understand what's happening in my body, and when and why (as far as they know) and it's weird how much that helps, it takes away the "unknown" and "what if" of everything.

It's also helped me realise when I'm in predrome or having an aura, because I know those symptoms now and can keep a better eye out for them

That said, having a good support system really helps, and I'm fortunate enough to have one in my parents and sister. If you live with someone who is open to understanding and listening to you, it's a good idea to tell them things about your migraines.

I voice my symptoms to my family all the time. I'll say out loud that I'm having a headache, or feeling dizzy, or if I feel restless or grumpy - half of it is to track my symptoms, because I'm crap at doing that by myself, and the other is because often they're better able to see a migraine is coming from what I'm saying than I am myself - it's harder to see when you're inside it.

They can help when I'm hallucinating too. If I smell or hear something that I don't trust is there, I can ask someone to verify that it isn't, or is, and can take meds or at least prepare from there.

Getting someone to remind you while you're having an attack that it will pass, that you've been through them before, and that you know what it is, might help with feelings of anxiety or panic at the time. If you can't rely on yourself, it's okay to ask others to do it for you.

Remember that what's happening to you is a physical, neurological process. It's an actual disease, and not in your head. There's a cascade of activity moving through your brain, and it's making your brain fire off in weird ways that you don't really want. As far as your brain is concerned, it got a signal, now it's going to do a thing.

It's not a bolt from the sky torturing you with some kind of magician's curse. You can't help it, it's just the same as having a pulled muscle, or diabetes. It's just an error in the way your body works, but it's one we know about it and more and more research is being done to help us understand and attack these things.

On that note, while triptans aren't recommended for hemiplegic migraines, the new meds, gepants and ditans, are (as far as I'm aware, ditans for sure). That's huge news for migraineurs, and something you should talk to your neuro about - assuming you have one.

All I can say for after the attack is to be kind to yourself. You feel like a cracked teacup, no need to bash yourself around anymore than the migraine already has. If you've got little things that make you happy, like taking a bath or listening to bird song or anything, indulge in it. Rest, maybe with a comfort show on TV.

You've just been through a storm, body AND brain, and you need to make yourself have some space in the postdrome to slowly pick yourself back up.

It might also be worth speaking to a pain therapist. YOU'RE NOT CRAZY. They'd be there to help you process what you're going through. The human body wasn't meant to be in constant pain, it wasn't meant to lose sudden control of itself for no reason, and it's a lot to put on someone, especially when their disease is so rare, as hemiplegic migraines are.

I've actually been thinking about trying to find one myself, mostly to help me work through the unending rage, but it could help you with your feelings of anxiety in regards to your hemiplegic migraines.

I'm so sorry I can't offer you anything more than that. It might help to connect with other people who suffer with hemiplegic migraines here, to share experiences, and you can always drop a message here if you want to talk to me about migraines in general.

The cripplepunk/spoonie community as a whole has been a help to me too, especially trying to learn to let myself feel angry and bitter and unashamed. It's nice to have a space to be shouty and angry about your disability, and to really feel that you have community.

I think the only other thing I could leave you with is to talk, not necessarily to anyone in particular, maybe just in a sideblog even.

Talk about how you feel, what you're experiencing, how much it sucks, what you've learned about it, anything. Bitching lets you vent it all out, helps other people understand what you're going through and lets you leave it on the net if you do it online.

I'm constantly shouting into the wind on this blog about my disabilities and it's really helped.

I'm so sorry I can't do anything more, and sorry again that this is late. Let me know if you wanna talk about anything more, or if you've got any questions about migraines in general, I'll do my best. I hope this helps

[smolsleepyfox]

The brick factory theory of hyperfixations:

I've been thinking a few things over recently and I've realized that working on anything - for me at least - is kinda like a brick factory. There has to be a continuous chain from the supply to the oven because if there are delays, the oven gets cold and it's hard to (re)start.

Examples:

- I have the idea for an artwork. I find a book I like. Unfortunately I don't have time to get to it now. = The fire is on, but there are no workers to put in the bricks. Once the workers are back, the fire has died down.

- I pick up the artwork/book/story when I feel mildly inclined and end up finishing it in one go, sometimes in sessions of 10+ hours = A few days/months/years later the order is rediscovered on a shelf so they make everything in one go. Once the oven is on, it's on, and it's best to get it done.

- I write 40k words within days. I go on a trip, leaving detailed notes to get back to. = The workers are on vacation, and while the oven is prepared, reigniting the fire will be much harder because it's properly cold instead of smoldering.How easy it is to start the oven depends heavily on the weather (mood, circumstances), but generally it's easier once the oven is on.

I have some interests that I dabble in less intensely, most neurodivergent people do. That's like having a small home kiln that is just kinda smoldering in the background most of the time, but it's no big deal if it goes out for a bit and tends to reignite spontaneously at some point.

Here's the thing: These are all things I enjoy doing. I like writing and reading and drawing. Of course I can be forced into doing things by circumstance. If there's an order for bricks by the higher-ups (my course has me write an essay), I'll make some damn bricks, but it will be difficult to start the oven unless I find some embers first (previous knowledge, interest, notes), and maybe the oven is just in a bad state rn or the brick-making paste isn't good. Brute-forcing it is possible, but the workers will be stressed and the quality probably not great, and it probably fucks with your line.

The common thread here is that I, as a person, have very little control over the fire. It's fire, you don't control it. I can manage my energy (fuel) and make sure the production line runs smoothly so we don't have too little or too many raw bricks coming, but sometimes there is a freak gust of wind, or the line is shut down because of the holidays, or someone spills a bucket of cleaning water on the oven. And then the fire is out and you stand there with a bunch of wet bricks and think "well shit".

It's down to neurotransmitters, energy levels, and as far as I can tell, the mood of a single crab in the Caribbean. If you fall into the fire, no amount of discipline will stop you from burning.

Okay this metaphor isn't perfect and I've never actually made bricks but you get what I mean.

[brineffxiv]

Estinien is not an easy man to find, but finally we run into him at the airship landing.

Uh oh

To be fair, Alisaie, you and Alphinaud do wear the exact same hairstyle.

LOL G'raha.

Thankfully, Alphinaud arrives to save Estinien and explain to him what's going on.

Alphinaud and Estinein's relationship is so wholesome. They make each other better people, and they make me smile.

Estinien is on the way to Azys Lla, to speak with Tiamat about this new incarnation of Bahamut. As the original summoner of the primal, she may be able to provide information that can help us deal with this new incarnation. We think this is a good idea, and join him.

Lol, you two should have met him back in Heavensward. He's practically warm and personable now by comparison.

Azys Lla has to be my least favorite map. The brown and sickly green lighting puts me in mind of vomit, or industrial contaminants. I suppose both of those are appropriate comparisons for the late Allagan Empire.

Oh. I. Didn't realize Nidhogg was still with you. Still a part of you. That's got to be difficult. But it's good that you feel you need to be there for Tiamat in Nidhogg's place. Nidhogg's rage and grief were fully justified for what was done to him and his family, it was his choices and actions in the aftermath that went beyond the pale.

It seems that Fandaniel must have utilized Tiamat and Bahamut's children to summon the primal.

Omg omg are we finally going to free Tiamat?! I've wanted to break her out of there since Heavensward. Yes yes yes!!!

Oh damn. She's tempered. If not quite as severely as some others. It didn't occur to me that a great wyrm could be tempered. But hell, if the Ascians could be, why not Tiamat.

Thankfully, we have a treatment for this now.

Oh yeah, gotta remember that nobody else knows that Hydaelyn is a freaking primal, and not just the name of the will of our star. Hey, can we test that tempering cure on me? Not saying I am for sure... but... better safe than sorry?

While G'raha and Alisaie prepare to cure Tiamat of her tempering, Estinien, Alphinaud, and I (plus a spirit vessel imbued with his blood that G'raha had on him for reasons) search the flagship for a node or terminal from which to control her restraints.

But before we go and free Tiamat, Estinien has a few questions regarding how we've been handling the Ascians.

And honestly, I don't think there is anything worth salvaging in Fandaniel. He is a man who professes to desire naught but to die and to take the rest of us with him in "a paroxysm of pain and suffering."

But...

Hmm, how do I say this?

Meeting and dealing with Emet-Selch effected me. He was brilliantly written, and I came to understand and empathize with his plight. I cannot say that, if I had been in his position, I would have done any different. From his point of view, he was entirely justified. He did terrible things, that he knew were terrible, in order to save his people. He was selfless, and sacrificed everything he had in order to save them. In the name of the greater good.

And so, I find I can't so easily dismiss Fandaniel as purely "evil." He must have a motive, a reason for why he does what he does, and I want to know it. He's not crazy, or illogical, and in the brief glimpses we have into his interactions with Zenos, I have become convinced that Fandaniel is manipulating him. And for him to be doing that, there's something he's trying to get or do beyond just what he openly claims to want, and he thinks he can use Zenos to get it. Zenos is too secure in his own power, and too distracted by me to see it. Fandaniel's a bitter, angry, shell of a man. And I want to know why.

Ahem.

Yes.

Anyway.

With the aid of G'raha and myself, Alisaie manages to cure Tiamat of her tempering.

And then, finally, after three expansions, Tiamat is freed of her prison.

And just in time, because Bahamut has been sighted over Paglth'an, at the head of a host of dragons. That's where Arenvald and Fordola have gone. I smell a dungeon.

And then, like the badass he is, Estinien leaps to Tiamat's back and the two of them fly away to battle.

We reunite with the rest of the Scions in Ul'dah, where we are joined by Nanamo. The Immortal Flames have been dispatched (along with many of the other Alliance nations' troops) to Paglth'an to defend the Amalj'aa. But it will be a fierce fight, and we are invited to join the fray as soon as possible.

Incidentally, it appears that Lunar Bahamut may be incapable of tempering people? Which would mark it as different from any primal we have faced before, and also mean it cannot be the entity behind the tempering going on at the towers.

To Paglth'an!

[prettyflyshyguy]

Oooooooh babey its been really, really hard to be creative recently but I'm trying to break away from incredibly unhealthy patterns of behavior and actually get something done, so while Virtual Ground is in the slow cooker I've gone back to some 'for fun' stuff again

Anyway who wants to read the revised and close to done WIP opening for Live Free Twiharder >:)

Co-written by the wonderful @snackhouse

"Dean, please just listen to me for once." 

"Look at me man, I'm a monster." 

He looked at Sam for a moment before leaning an arm on the wall by the curtained window. Resting his forehead against it, he breathed in slowly. His mind was racing, a million thoughts cascading, all clamoring for attention and action. He had to tell Lisa, he had to prepare, he had no time to prepare, he was hungry, everything was so awfully loud, what about the nest, who was going to clear the nest? What about the Alpha? How would Sam deal with the Alpha without him? What about the car? There was so much he needed to figure out before-

"No Dean, you’re not-”

Sam’s exasperated voice snapped him back to the present, and Dean turned his head to glance back, silencing his brother mid sentence. The floor between them felt like a chasm, a wound reopening that had never fully healed. It never could. Neither had given it the time and care it required. Sam had always tried, to his credit. But he knew how Dean felt about these things - about what Sam was, what he had done, what he had become once. Sam stared at his brother. He didn’t appear any different, his physical presentation and body language was the same old Dean, what was different was that he made no effort to hide his emotions. He looked petrified. His eyes were wide, sweat drenched his face, and the way he stared back, his eyes cutting through Sam’s soul, sent a chill down his spine. Dean’s penchant for stoicism frustrated him, his reluctance for genuine honesty was a staple of how he handled hard circumstances they’d found themselves in time and time again - much to Sam’s chagrin. The lack of his standard machoism had caught Sam off guard, and as he stood there observing Dean, the silence of the hotel room was deafening. 

Sam knew his brother well enough to recognise that he was still stubborn, and he struggled to listen to reason when he began to panic - and Dean had justifiable reasons to panic. He’d hoped there was a chance Dean had dodged infection by some miracle. Seeing him now, erratic, twitchy, sudden onset of misophonia and light sensitive… Despite the gloom Sam could still make out the streaks of red that stained his skin, marking him, sealing his fate. He’d rushed Dean back as soon as he found him behind the bar, bloody and bruised. Dean had insisted he go after the freak that jumped him, Sam had refused, and dragged him back to the hotel instead, immediately contacting Samuel for guidance.

Dean had scrunched his eyes shut so hard he felt the muscles in his face seize and stiffen. He could block out the light, but not the sounds. They were relentless, overbearing, but one in particular demanded his attention above all else. It filled his ears, drowned out the tv, the cars, the water pipes. The longer Sam was silent, the more he focused in on It as It tore through the background noises, shredding and discarding them until only It filled his mind. The churning rapids of thoughts and images in his head began to fade out leaving only It in their wake.  

The sudden clarity alarmed him, and in desperation he tried to busy his mind again - trying to forcibly overwhelm it with his own self-generated mental barrage. As he racked his brains, a memory snapped into his mind, louder and stronger than anything else. Gordon Walker.

No, he conceded, I am a monster. 

“We can fix this Dean,” Sam started again, “there's a cure! You're gonna be ok!"

Dean laughed. An empty, hollow, forced laugh. 

"Sammy, while I appreciate your optimism, this is not a problem you can just spitball. There's no record of fangs turning back." 

He pushed off the wall turning back to face Sam, pressing his fingers into his face and groaning. 

"I'm serious Dean, if you'd just--" 

"Don't bullshit me, Sam!” Dean snapped.

He took a few steps towards Sam. His eyes were still wide, but the terror had shifted slightly, crossing into anger. Sam instinctively took a small step back, one hand reaching into his jacket pocket in the hopes to find some item of comfort, something sharp. He didn’t want to resort to self defense, but the sensible part of him had accepted that definitively he could not take his brother in a fight, not when he was infected. A few quarters and an old gum wrapper was all he felt. Sam trusted his brother to a point, but Dean looked up at him with an intensity in his eyes usually reserved for glaring at the things they hunted together. It terrified him. It reminded him of the past. It hurt. 

“I can hear your fucking heartbeat and it's racing pretty damn fast." Dean hardly held back the accusatory tone in his voice as he broke the silence. Dean continued to stare as Sam’s face twitched slightly. 

Of course, the lore… You idiot. How could he forget? Sam was usually the one forced into book duty, in the aftermath of the attack, he hardly stopped to think about how quickly the changes would take place. It was hard to lie in front of his older brother on a normal day, and despite his insistence in earnest, he was still freaking out, and Dean had made up his mind with the evidence laid out before him. Sam trusted his grandfather was good on his word when he’d been informed there was in fact, a cure for vampirism. It came as a shock initially, and he mentally kicked himself for not thinking to bring it up with Dean sooner. There was always something more pressing, another monster to hunt, another person to help. He knew Dean hadn’t fed, he’d made sure of that. He knew it could be reversed.

Dean’s eyes narrowed slightly as he noted the increase in tempo of Sam’s heart as the stand off continued. This wasn’t the first time Sam had tried to calm him with a hope built off of a faith, but this is where they always found themselves at a fork in the road. Sam could operate on faith and faith alone, he couldn’t. He needed something real, something concrete, he needed proof - and everything concrete and firsthand he’d seen of vampires utterly disgusted him. Lenore was empirically good, he had to give credit where it was due, but she couldn’t change was she was. She just coped with it, worked around it. A life defined by running and hiding, on the knife edge of tipping over should the wrong thing happen, should you slip one day, should you give in. Life continues, the world will keep turning, but a new fundamental universal truth arises – it only gets worse. 

Cutting the thought short, he started walking, raising an arm up as he passed by Sam. Everything was quickly becoming too much again. Every sound, smell and sight was bombarding his brain like a 18 wheeler hitting a squirrel and his brief moment of reprieve ended. 

“Hey where are you–”

“Bathroom. My mouth tastes like blood and creepy-dude sweat.” Dean grunted, closing the door to the small room behind him.

It was a bullshit excuse and they both knew it, but Dean didn’t think he could make it another minute standing so close to a human. Stepping into the cramped bathroom he took a second to breathe in a space where he couldn’t hear all of Sam’s veins pulsing with blood, Dean’s gaze drifted towards the mirror. 

I wonder if I’ll even recognize myself by the end of this… 

He already knew what he was going to find, it wasn’t like he couldn’t feel them. Gently peeling back his lips, Dean struggled against the waves of nausea that spilled over him at the sight. Feeling the fangs where there was different from actually seeing them. It removed any doubt about what he had become in his mind. Lightly poking the exposed tip of a fang poking through, Dean could feel how sharp it was. Moving his fingertip upward, he slightly pushed the gum above the protrusion, pushing the tip of the fang out like massaging a cat’s foot to see its claws. 

The other needle-like teeth seemed to be eager to join their friend, as the rest of the fangs slid from their slits in Dean’s mouth. He wrenched his hand back in horror. He could feel the sharp new additions sliding over his normal teeth. Like the bars of a cage they sealed away any signs of humanity he saw in the mirror. In a matter of seconds he found himself grasping the toilet bowl for purchase has he emptied his stomach.

“Dean, you ok?” 

Sam’s voice was filtered through the wooden door and old brick walls, and Dean’s ears picked it up unnervingly clearly.  “I’m fine.” he responded harshly, between coughing on the acid and saliva in his mouth. He moved back to the sink, cupping his hands under the still running water, sipping from it to try and wash away the taste. It tasted normal, at least he still had that. He glanced back at the mirror. The teeth were gone.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s1e1 pilot (w. eric kripke)

(this is a rewatch, so spoilers abound)

because my brain is jacked up, i'm weirdly anxious about rewatching the show even though that's been The Plan for months. i watched 15x20 a week (plus) ago and every time i think about starting over at the pilot and writing them up proper like i did around s4-5 onward, my chest kind of clenches up and i look for literally anything else to do. i am worried about having feelings that i'm not prepared to deal with. which is fucking ridiculous.

hold onto your butts, this is gonna be a long fucking post

i've mentioned before that babies in peril is my number 1 hard stop on media -- i stopped watching killing eve mid-episode because of one and never went back to it (i intended to but never happened, brain weasels make everything hard.) so i know the very first time i tried to watch spn (several years ago) i almost turned it off because of little baby sam. that first attempt at watching i wasn't actually fully paying attention, i had it on while i was doing other things and so i missed all the character stuff and only saw it as kind of a mid horror schlocky situation so i never finished the first season back then. when i gave it another go in early 2023, i was giving it my full attention.

one thing this show always got? the cutest, happiest, sweetest babies. 10/10 would recommend

already freaking out how young everyone is and happy clean shaven john is extra wild

demon growl sound effect / padalecki's accent & jerk bitch moment

hey, it's the first instance of the demon growl noise when mary's burning on the ceiling! ooh i'm gonna be even more insufferable about the musical score and sound effects now that i'm listening for it from the jump

also i have called padalecki's accent/speech pattern the crispy r based on some tiktok i heard describing it that way - i associate it with california (but these clips are almost the opposite where the R is getting almost eliminated but not in the boston accent way), and i'd say maybe it was a choice but i think he spoke this way in gilmore girls too? but anyway, his Rs are just very different and it's a very particular and kind of subtle accent that definitely doesn't carry through the entire series ("bear it" in the second clip, the "sorry" in the third). i mentioned it when they had a clip of a moment from 1x10 as well in the pre-ep recap for 5x09

really well done and effective effects on that fire in the nursery

♥️💔

so this picture made it out of the lawrence fire (it was on mary's nightstand) but not the stanford one? i don't recall it being in the collection

i never really understood where sam was supposed to be timeline-wise in college, other than he must not have graduated because it was october? so there's me googling when you take the LSAT. so he could have (assuming it hasn't changed that much since 2005) taken it in june or october of the calendar year before he graduated. all right so that makes sense now that i think about it for more than 30 seconds. so he didn't finish his last year really of his bachelor's. and he's 22. i think in that alex irvine john winchester diary novel thing (don't think that that's considered canon but that's a whole other can of worms), it said sam graduated high school at 19 instead of 18 so i think that would make things line up (someone made a timeline that also includes everything in that novel but the post is loudly wncest dni so i won't link it). i do know it was just a mistake that the pilot said sam had been gone 2 years.

the ever useful canon discrepancies article at superwiki:

One of the most frequently debated potential canon discrepancies. Here are the facts: - In the 1.01 Pilot, Sam is about to be interviewed for law school, which could work on the assumption that he's just about to finish a bachelor degree (4 years). Dean also says that he hasn't spoken to Sam in "nearly two years." - In 1.03 Dead in the Water, Dean tells Sam that he spent "Every day for two years with Dad, while you were going to pep rallies." - In 1.07 Hook Man, Dean says "So this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?" when they are researching in the library. - The original promo dates Mary's death to September 13, 1985, consistent with Sam being twenty and having been at Stanford for two years but out of step with everything else in the series. Eric Kripke acknowledged during a panel at the 2006 William S. Paley Television Festival that they made a mistake in the script -- initially Sam was meant to be 20, then they aged him up to 22, but neglected to change Dean's line from "two years" to "four years." Therefore, it may have been the creators' intention that Sam has been at college for four years.

this is gonna take me approximately forever to rewatch episodes 🤪

keeping my eye out for hands for drawing. have a general idea of getting something early seasons to go in the set with the 15x20 hands.

SAM Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45. DEAN Well, what was he supposed to do? SAM I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.

classic john

SAM Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. SAM But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find. DEAN We save a lot of people doing it, too.

one thing i'm thinking about is how i definitely was under the impression that they really didn't know any other hunters until they start getting mentioned here and there (dropping bits of backstory about working jobs with xyz while sam was at school etc), and that they barely knew anything about demons. so i'm curious to see how much of that is me misremembering

SAM You think Mom would have wanted this for us? The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors. DEAN So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it? SAM No. Not normal. Safe. DEAN And that's why you ran away. SAM I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.

classic john x2. i know it's the pilot, i know they're bombing us with backstory like they need to, but i'm just like. everything about this ends up being pretty essential to understanding them and how they were raised it's so much 😩

DEAN I can't do this alone. SAM Yes you can. DEAN Yeah, well, I don't want to.

excuse me while my heart breaks into little bits. i knew that line in 15x20 was a callback to this, and it was heartbreaking then too. well actually it makes feel slightly ill rereading that scene from the finale. too emotionally invested

DEAN It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough. DEAN Then I get this voicemail yesterday. He presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up. JOHN Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.

so he coulda like. told dean he was ditching him for his safety in this sketchy vague voicemail, but then of course we wouldn't have them chasing him down with quite the same mystery. it's just kind of comical.

like this post puts it:

spn season 1 is so funny. they made the main plot line finding sam and dean’s missing father. but like. the guys not missing. he’s just avoiding them.

i'm sure (i hope???) every rewatch post isn't going to turn into a dissertation like this. good grief

hey. i was gonna mention that music was quite inoffensive and not bad at all and was about give old jay a pat on the back, but no! it's christopher lennertz lol. my ear always knows. so that's the originator of the demon growl sound

SAM It's the greatest hits of mullet rock. DEAN Well, house rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. SAM You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. SAM It's Sam, okay?

i mean so many classic interactions i can't handle it. also, real shame netflix didn't/wouldn't get the licensing for the music originally aired. i have the blurays but i'm down a functional bluray player so here i am, watching on netflix with shitty replacement music yet again. that scene should have had ramblin man and back in black. travesty. back when they splashed out for the good licensed music (and i usually was on board with lennertz's selections)

the comment about them being a little young for federal marshals (also in their kinda scruffy clothes lol) and wikipedia says:

Marshals Service hiring is competitive and comparable to the selection process for Special Agent positions in agencies with similar duties. Typically fewer than five percent of qualified applicants are hired [citation needed] and must possess at a minimum a four-year bachelor's degree or competitive work experience (which is usually three or more years at a local or state police department).

so i mean, sounds like it's doable! barely. (i'm not even halfway through the episode lol)

stepping on dean's foot, smacking sam's head. very good sibling stuff

meanwhile we're gonna pop jackles in some bomb ass golden hour lighting so we can get his pretty, pretty face looking even prettier. lighting doesn't match any other part of the scene, but if you can get them lit up in it, we're using it!

SHERIFF Can I help you boys? DEAN No, sir, we were just leaving. As the FBI AGENTS walk past DEAN, he nods at each of them. DEAN Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.

respect to the og (that was the show of my youth and my forever otp and also my first impression of sam and dean's relationship was mid-run mulder and scully)

s1e1 r.d. call as sheriff pierce / the x-files s1e18 as sheriff daniels

oh! and this sheriff was a sheriff in an xfiles episode, that's even better! that's brilliant. love to see it

those jeans and before dean had his signature logger boots which i didn't apparently really notice until s6

DEAN Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy.

uncles??? lol

another thing i remember really liking is these random girls aren't like.. tv pretty makeup. they're just random gothy girls with stark harsh eye makeup and lipstick and matte heavier foundation. like real people do! it just makes it feel more grounded in reality to me when not everyone's makeup is tv-perfect

y'all. look at this! so i have talked a lot about the computer stuff, whenever there's a screen (in any show i'm watching) i'll pause and check out the veracity. teen wolf had laughably fake web page mockups. and one thing i do recall noticing in this episode was real webpage urls! and even in the printouts which comes later. which they did not do consistently in spn seasons after this at all until much later

classic. truly. more smacks and shoves. it's okay, sammy. i also am a little bit of a control freak especially when it comes to computer stuff. JUST LET ME DO IT.

DEAN Monday. Right. The interview. SAM Yeah. DEAN Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl? SAM Maybe. Why not? DEAN Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done? SAM No, and she's not ever going to know. DEAN Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.

dean's got a point there. which reminds me, did blurry wife know the truth? i remember there was some blurb about the story behind sam's kid having the anti-possession tattoo

wiki to the rescue

Though Sam's son has an anti-possession tattoo on his arm, there are no other signs of hunting in Sam's life after he leaves the Bunker. Jared confirmed at the November StageIt panel that Sam has not been hunting "in honor of Dean" because Dean wouldn't have wanted him to, but that Sam did tell his son about hunting and about his Uncle Dean, and that the decision to get the tattoo was Dean II's.

so probably yes?

(hands)

SAM And who's that? DEAN You're one of us. SAM No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life. DEAN You have a responsibility to— SAM To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.

oh, sam. these early days he was chafing so hard against what other people wanted him to do. also relatable. and if only we knew about mary🥴

sam enjoying dean's predicament

SAM Salt, cat's eye shells…he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.

cat's eye shells?? don't think that ever got mentioned again

LOL okay, so the url isn't perfect 😂 missing forward slashes and no underscores in domain names, but they tried!!

huh. another family picture i don't recall seeing again. kind of backwards, longer brown hair on supposedly dean and short lighter hair on supposedly sam

so did dean grab john's leather jacket at this point? since he showered and changed in john's motel room. i hadn't thought about that. huh

SAM You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been! CONSTANCE You will be. Just hold me.

i know this comes up in fic periodically but i don't think that went anywhere, like the cat's eye shells

LOL i didn't remember that the woman in white resolution was her ghostly murdered children conveniently take her out

DEAN Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning. SAM Dean, I, um... DEAN You're not going. SAM The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there. DEAN Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.

there's so many moments in this episode that i've seen in gifs and didn't realize were all from the pilot. but it's really interesting to me to see how like.. the show really kind of pushed how much dean needed/wanted sam and sam was resisting, and how i think it really set up dean as the more "likeable" character initially, along with showing off his pretty face and charm and all that. on a brain-characterization level, i always relate more to sam but i was definitely charmed by dean initially.

SAM Call me if you find him? SAM And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh? DEAN Yeah, all right. DEAN Sam? DEAN You know, we made a hell of a team back there. SAM Yeah.

the only thing that i think makes this episode not quite paced right is how they crammed jess dying at the end and the we've got work to do thing. it felt really rushed and slapped on. but other than that, what a great pilot. ranks up there with the hannibal pilot