#matt just pulling focus cause he's too pretty for this world

[ipsiducis]

[aritamargarita]

ATTITUDE || 018

hey guys. so i decided to upload the regular installment instead, it would make more sense chronologically (when do i ever follow timeline though lmfao) since there’s one match in the Christmas episode that’s really important and it ain’t the eggnog match LMAOO

ik after last chapter being a complete mess we need a break. reader said she'll make lita scream but now they're chillin getting snacks smh... its like..."cant stand her fake ass!!" 10 minutes later: ME AND THE BESTIEEE

nellieee & rated: sweethearts readers. this one is for you..the girls that get it GET IT

to all my fellow jeff fans, this is a love letter from me to you. i hope you enjoy, i felt kinda eeerrrhhh this chapter but only cause i had to keep rereading it lol

THE SHOW’S OVER! You felt really, really hungry. Not for actual food, you wanted some junk food. It’s a candy extravanganza.

You took the liberty to ride with Lita, with you two leaving as early as possible in order to stock up on snacks. The both of you had that segment together so it was pretty easy for the both of you to meet up afterward.

She mentioned Matt left his camcorder in the car, so you picked it up and started to record. He may be pretty iffy on you, but you figured you may as well leave a gift for him.

Just because you can.

“Hello world!” After making extra sure that it was actually recording, you turn the camera towards yourself. “And hello Matt’s camera. I’m sorry for taking most of your film!” You then turn the camera towards Lita, zooming in slightly. “Your little girlfriend is driving.”

For a split second, Lita takes her eyes off the road and swats at you.

“Woah, woah, woah, focus on the road!” You complain. For someone who was so insistent on driving, she sure enjoyed trying to be a passenger. She’s been messing with you for this whoooleee ride. More than likely it was because of your Mapquest directions….

“We’re gonna stop for some snacks. Don’t Canadians have chocolate smarties??” You question.

“Pretty sure they do.” Lita nodded. “Trish mentioned it before.”

Oh shit! SHE IS CANADIAN!! You forgot! Now that you think about it, most of your coworkers were Canadian too.

The hotel wasn’t that far, but the detour you two were taking probably was going to make it a bit longer than that. Not that bad, you two were just getting back a little later tonight.

“I need my fix of candy,” You say, turning the camera over to the 7/11 sign that was now coming into view. “Something that’ll make my teeth fall out.”

“Then you can put them under your pillow for the tooth fairy.” Lita suggests. “I’m sure you’ll get a lot of money for it.”

“Yeah, right. If the tooth fairy was even real.”

There’s silence for a moment before Lita stops the car just as she’s about to park. “…The tooth fairy isn’t real?”

You look at her slowly. Did she really ask that? “No. No, the tooth fairy isn’t real.”

“Damn. I’ve been lied to my entire life.” She says, running a hand through her hair. She looks absolutely destroyed by this new information.

You’re just surprised she even thought the tooth fairy was real. “No one told you this entire time? Ma’am…y…”

“Listen, I need some time away to think about this.” Lita says dramatically. What, were you going to say that Santa Claus wasn’t real either?! You do believe in Santa, so she’s safe for now. “Grab what you want. I’ve gotta get gas, I’ll be in to fill my arms with as many snacks A-S-A-P.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You wave your hand at her. “…Oh, shit, there’s a Subway here too. Is that Tim Horton’s? I haven’t had that in a while. Let’s grab—“

Lita shakes her head. “Nope. I’m in charge tonight, we’re going to IHOP. No ifs, ands, or buts. I printed out the directions! Look in the glove compartment.”

You pop it open and pull out folded paper. You look at her and she motions her hand towards it, making you unwrap it into it’s true form. A huge ass map with directions printed clear on the side.

Wow. She was serious.

“…Let me get out of here.” You open the door and get out of the car, tossing the map back into your seat.

Mission 7/11 was in full effect. Once you enter the convenience store, you look around. It was pretty empty. Maybe one or two cars were around. It’s only about 10 pm, so you wonder where everyone’s ran off to.

The bright lights of the store make you blink a few times. Damn, they turned the brightness UP. Your eyes had gotten used to the dark car. “Evening.” You greet the cashier at the counter.

He looks up from the magazine he was reading for a second. “Evening.” But then he does a double take. He couldn’t believe it. You’re [Name] from the WWF! “Holy shit—hey, excuse me?”

You’re about to walk into one of aisles, but you stop, turning over to the cashier. “Yeah?”

“Are you…” He pauses for a moment. “You’re [Name], right?? The wrestler.”

“I do!” You confirm with a nod. “You know me?”

“You’re literally my favorite wrestler.” He says. “I know there was a show tonight, my boyfriend’s been paging me like crazy! I got him to tape it for me since I’m working, but I don’t want him to spoil it.”

“You won’t get any outta me either.” You reassure with a smile. Your eyes look down to his name tag curiously. Jean-Pierre, huh?

“Well, wait….is Lita in it?” He asks, quickly caving in. It be like that sometimes. “I’ve gotta know. She’s my favorite too.”

Man, wouldn’t he be surprised. “Oh, she’s in it alright…...”

“What does that mean?! No, don’t tell me!” He shakes his head, looking away from you.

You’ve always enjoyed meeting fans. People who appreciate what you do in the ring was always pleasure.

…It gives you a idea, actually. You hold out a finger to him. “One second.” You hate to be one of those customers, but you had to! You wanted to take a picture with him. But he wouldn’t know until you check out, that is. It’s the least you could do!

Especially since Lita’s traveling with you. It just works, man. Speaking of that lady, where the hell did she go?? Gas does not take that long to pump. She’s crucial in this plan. You go back into the aisles, not only searching for cameras, but for Lita as well.

The place isn’t huge, per say, but it had a lot of items. There’s giftcards, magazines (is that a Raw magazine?), just about anything you could think of. It’s a convenience store, after all…

You totally got distracted for a minute looking at the Stacker 2 bottle. You really hope they give you a commercial for that, even if you don’t really use fat burners.

Finally finding a small aisle for miscellaneous items, you lean down to look at your options.

There’s only two FujiFilm cameras left on the shelf. You’re feeling greedy, so you just take both of them. Heading back up to the front, you place them on the counter. “Just these:”

He doesn’t exactly catch on quite yet, so he rings you out without a second thought. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

You weren’t exactly ready for the question he had next though.

“Jeff Hardy or Raven?”

It immediately makes you laugh. Whether it was out of nervousness or just the fact you found it hilarious, you truly didn’t know. “Can’t tell you. Who do you like with me better?”

“Gotta say…” He thinks about it for a moment after bagging your items. “Jeff Hardy. You two are really cute together.”

Huh….interesting. People really liked you and Jeff together, you couldn’t see it, but hey, an opinion is an opinion.

Lita finally comes in, waving at the cashier and shooting you finger guns. “Sorry. The pump wouldn’t take my card. I got it this time though.”

Somehow, the surprise was a bit ruined in your eyes. Jean-Pierre looked like his eyes would pop out of their sockets. Both of his favorite wrestlers were here!! He rubs his eyes, trying to wake up from this dream.

Holy shit, this is reality! He doesn’t even know what to say at first, completely starstruck. You take the opportunity to speak up for him, waving one of the cameras.

“…Want a picture?”

He sure as hell did, why was that even a question? The fact you two came to this location is amazing. It’s small, so it’s fairly easy to miss. This has gotta be the best shift he’s ever had.

“Wait, hold on, let me get snacks first.” Lita says, rushing into one of the aisles. You playfully roll your eyes and unbox the camera.

“We don’t need her! Let’s take a picture with just us two.”

You, Lita, and the young man at the register were chatting up a storm for quite a bit after checking out and taking pictures. You all talked about your favorite matches in history and things you felt inspired by.

All good things have to come to an end unfortunately. You both wave to him goodbye, letting him keep one of the cameras that had your photos on it. There’s twenty seven exposures in total, so he could use the rest however he pleases.

You’ll have to come again sometime, maybe when Raw or Smackdown is in town. Very convenient place too, you’d get Subway, but Lita forced you to go to IHOP. It’s like she has a gun to your head.

You’re behind the wheel, meanwhile Lita’s holding up the directions and reading out the directions to you. Every so often, she’d look out the window to make sure you were going the right direction.

No more mistakes. Tonight, Lita’s about to enjoy her time at the International House of Pancakes. She’s been waiting for this all week! “Okay, [Name], make a left here…” She’d guide you.

You could tell she’s excited. You don’t get why she’s so excited. You’re ordering a Belgian Waffle to spite her. To spite her and give an ode to RVD saying it’s the capital of Brussels. Bless him.

In little to no time, you pull up to the restaurant. Lita says it’s all thanks to her directions, but you pay her no mind.

You two get out of the car and head to the doors. You open one up and immediately try closing it quickly behind you, making Lita pull on the handle to try and open it again.

“Oh, you fucking—“ She curses, lightly hitting you in the back as soon as she gets in. You laugh as you walk towards the front counter.

Before you can ask for a table, Lita shakes her head and grabs your hand. “No need. I’ve already called it in.”

Huh. She was serious about this pancake situation. She must’ve called it in while she was outside or something. You go along with it, letting her drag you to one of the tables nearby a window.

…Wait, didn’t a hostess have to sit you down? You’re just about to question her when your eyes fall on two familiar people sitting in a booth.

It’s Matt…..and…..Jeff. Both of them were there. Matt didn’t seem too surprised, but Jeff on the other hand seemed shocked you were even here.

Lita lets go of your hand. “Wow! What a coincidence,” She says, putting her hands on her hips. “I had no clue you guys would be here tonight…”

You slowly look at Lita. There are no words to describe how irritated you were. It’s no wonder she merrily skipped past the desk and any hostesses. Does she think you’re stupid?

You want to leave. Seeing Jeff was starting to make you sick to your stomach.

“Are ya’….gonna sit?” Jeff suddenly asks, scooting over. It’s obvious he wants you next to him.

“…I guess.” You have no choice, so you sit down right next to him as Lita sits next to Matt.

Across from you, the two of them spare glances to each other, almost like they were communicating telepathically or something.

“We have to use the bathroom.” Lita announced, jumping out of her seat. She reaches over and grabs Matt to bring him out.

He nods with her. “Yeah. We’ll be back.” The two leave you and Jeff alone, but unbeknownst to you two, they weren’t too far away..

You hate them. They’re doing this on purpose. This must’ve been premeditated. You’re going to kill Lita and then yourself. Damn it.

“If you’re wondering, I’m not mad at ya’ or anything.” He says, setting his hand on the table.

Unable to look him in the eye, you turn your attention toward his hand.

He painted his nails…cute.

“I’m mad at Raven,” He continues. “He doesn’t deserve you. I think he’s just using you. I know we had something, [Name]. Don’t tell me it was nothing when we kissed.”

The more he talks, the more guilty you’re starting to feel. You’re not entirely sure what to say, either. Your mouth starts to feel uncomfortably dry as you look down under the table. “Did you get any water? Phew.”

“….” He doesn’t say anything at first, instead pushing his glass of water towards you. “Didn’t drink out of it. It’s all yours.”

You happily open a straw lying on the table and drink some.

“It would’ve gone further if my neck wasn’t hurting.” He admits. “It’s risky, but I just wanted you all to myself on that table.”

You look around as you sip your water. Thank goodness his voice was pretty quiet. He sounded tired and you couldn’t blame him. You’re starting to feel a little worn down from the show today, too.

Without you staring at him, he doesn’t think you’re taking him seriously. “Look at me, [Name]..”

You don’t.

Even as you can see him expectantly staring at you from the corner of your eye, you just decide to stare straight ahead.

And Jeff has already had enough. He takes his hand and decides to pull your face towards him. You’re taken aback by it.

He too, seems surprised that he’s even done it. “I…sorry. I just want ya’ to look at me…”

You’re conflicted. You don’t know whether you want to slap him down or just kiss him. Even if the latter made you feel guilty.

“I would say you’re my muse, darling.” The pet name makes you flinch. “I’ve..painted you at least 3 times now.”

“Three times?” You repeat. “Three times….when can I see these paintings?”

Three times is crazy to you. You’re hoping he isn’t too crazy for you right now, this is just a horrible time.

“I don’t have it with me right now. Maybe next time I see you.”

Boo…..

Jeff feels like he’s making progress with you. He feels like the luckiest man in the world because you haven’t shoved him away yet.

He feels even luckier when you don’t reject his advance. He takes your hand into his own, the two of you quickly interlocking fingers with one another.

You still think this was wrong. However, your heart was telling you otherwise. The moment he squeezes your hand is when you feel like Jeff’s the one you want right now.

“WE’RE BACK!” Lita announces, a smile on her face. Matt trails behind her, nodding to the both of you. The two slide right back into their seats and the waitress comes over just in time.

Lita seems to eye you and Jeff holding hands on the table, a smirk playing on her lips. You remind yourself to strangle her when you get the chance, though that time may come after Vengeance.

Even the trip back to the hotel was calm. Jeff wanted you to go with him instead. Lita almost pushes you towards him, eager for you two to actually be alone. She knows her and Matt were having issues, but she definitely wants you two to sort shit out.

She can tell that Jeff really likes you. He always has, just didn’t know how to go about it.

Hand in hand, you two make your way upstairs. “Are you scared for your match?” You suddenly ask, swinging your hand.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “It is what it is. If Matt wants a challenge, then so be it. I just wish he didn’t bring Lita into it.”

You make a noise, signifying that you agree. Poor Lita, she’s in the midst of their rivalry.

“Hold on, my room is right here.” You start to pull out your keycard. “Are you coming in or you just wanted to walk me?”

“I can come in if ya’ want.”

The answer is absolutely. You do want him to come in. “Feel free.” You unlock the door and the both of you walk in together.

And now that Jeff’s here, you’re not entirely sure what to do. It’s a hotel room, not your house, so you didn’t have a lot to entertain him with.

“Wanna sit?” It’s a tentative offer, but truly this situation was getting more and more awkward by the second.

“Yeah.” He takes a seat on the bed, watching you as you pace around for a minute. Eventually, you come over to sit next to him.

“…[Name].” He calls. Jeff turns over to you and grabs your shoulders. “…Who do you see me as?” He asks. “Do you see me as less than Raven?”

“No, it’s just—“ He interrupts you by pulling you into a kiss. It’s almost like he wanted you to start talking just so he could cut you off.

You exhale through your nose once he parts away. He tasted like syrup, hehe.

Jeff kisses you again, but this time changes direction and makes his way down towards your neck. It makes you laugh. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” You replied. You just can’t believe how you got in this situation. “Hold on, hold on,” you say.

“…I’m going to be honest, [Name]. You’re making me nervous.” He admits. “I feel like my legs are gonna give out if I stand up.”

You’re about to pass out yourself. “I’m not feeling any be—“

And then, the phone’s ringing. It just takes you out of the moment. You groan. No way you just got the ick from the phone. Problem is, neither of you want to stop the direction it’s heading.

You crawl over the bed towards the nightstand. Whoever’s calling sucks.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Nitro Girl.” Hunter greets, his voice as chipper as ever. “Been a while.”

Goddamn it. OUT OF ALL TIMES HE COULD GIVE YOU A CALL..

“This isn’t a good time.” You say, letting out a huff of air. “If it’s important, make it quick.”

“Didn’t know you were the type to rush things. Whatever you say. Listen, I’ll cut to the chase. That lingerie I gave you. I need you to use that and bring Jericho to a hotel room. I’m gonna ambush him.”

Because Jeff was still there, trying to catch his breath as much as you were, you do your best to keep things as vague as possible. “Are you seriously gonna do that?”

“Yeah. Everyone will go crazy over it. Just think of it as a hookup. You won’t have to try and seduce Jericho after this again. I’ll even let you hit him once.”

“I knew it wasn’t just some gift out of the blue. The fact you never explained was confusing.”

“Didn’t have time. Steph’s been hassling me all week. She’s really excited for me to come back. Honestly, I feel like I’m ready to go.”

“Right. Excited to…” You think for a second how to phrase it. “—see you again. Have a good night.”

“Wow, it’s almost like you REALLY don’t want to talk to me.”

You sigh. “It’s really not the best time.”

“Then I’ll call you tomorrow night. Goodnight.”

“Night.” You hang up the phone and turn to Jeff with an apologetic look on your face.

“Who’s that?” He asks, scooting back and laying down. You decide to join him, laying right next to him and staring up at the ceiling.

“Old friend of mine.” You lied. “…Wanna stay the night?”

Better luck next time…

ITS DONE PLEASE DONT KILL ME PLEAAAASESSD. VENGEANCE IS NEXT BUT I NEED TO FIX CERTAIN PARTS OF THE MATCH!!!! and other matches. because reader is coming to fuck with everyones match YEAH!

[lulupen2023]

My very first BellDom Fic 15/23

If you're reading, I hope you're laughing

Summary:

Do you want to meet a Matthew who sees conspiracy everywhere (oh wait, this is not big news!) and is so fond of his trolley that he treat it like a sort of puppy? Do you want to meet a Dominic in love with… himself (and with Matt, too, of course!)? And do you want to meet a Chris who wants to prove to the world he's the most masculine guy ever… but is unavoidably attracted by every… female hobby? This is what you'll find in this story, among lots of BellDom and… craziness!

Summary of the chapter: Never deprive our beloved guys of their private flight. NEVER! The consequences could be terrifying…

Chapter XV: Please, Please, Please...

"Matt..." Dom murmurs almost in a whisper, but a soft, nearly imperceptible snoring is the only answer he gets.

"Matthew..." Dom gives another try as he leans forward to him in order to squeeze his hips affectionately.

Matthew mumbles something, apparently pleased, but still deeply asleep, so much that he pulls the covers up, until he buries himself inside them.

But Dominic never gives up so easily.

As a matter of fact, he pulls the covers down and straddles him as he caresses his hair.

"Oh, c'mon, Mattie, don't be a baby, it's time to rise and shine." he whispers in his ear, nibbling his lobe.

As a result, Matthew doesn't even attempt to open half an eye. He grumbles something, kicks him away and in the try to turn to the other side, not before taking the covers back, he also pushes an elbow into the blond's stomach.

A little bit in pain, but still not defeated, Dominic decides that good manners won't take him anywhere.

"MATTHEW JAMES BELLAMY, GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OFF THIS FUCKING BED FUCKING NOW!" Dom snaps in what could be properly called a roar. After all, his hair already reminds of a lion's mane.

The effect is immediate: Matthew abruptly wakes up yelling and in his recoiling he even hits the edge of the bed with his head.

"What the fuck? How? Why?" he grumbles in a spin, as he massages his aching head and takes a look around, until his still slumbering senses focus on the cause of his awakening, who is smiling at him, waving his hand.

Too bad that Matthew is anything but smiling.

As a matter of fact, he stares at him in such an icy way that he could freeze even an erupting volcano.

"You!" he hisses.

Dominic starts seriously fearing that look and he prudently backs off until his back hits the edge of the bed on the other side.

"Matt... Matthew, dear, don't you remember? Since we gotta take the plane pretty early, you asked me ... you asked me to wake you up and... and that's what I've just done!" the blond justifies among the nervous stuttering, as he finds again the courage to face that look that is still as icy as before.

"But you weren't fucking supposed to fucking wake me up like that!" Matt blames him, as he inspects in his mind all the hats he could wear in order to cover the bump that is about to pop out from his head.

"I didn't mean to resort to that, but I had never dealt with such an unawakable person so far!" the other strikes back.

"That's not even a word!" the brunette protests.

"I don't care, that's what you are!" the drummer insists.

"So, now that you're finally awake and everything is ok we can make love again, can we, mm?" he suggests the second after with a silky voice, as he gets closer to him again.

"Dominic! It's bloody six in the morning! I can't love anyone at this time of day. A bed is all I desire!" the frontman grumbles.

"With me inside of it?" Dominic hazards.

"Hell no! Just an empty bed to sleep!" the other points out as he tries to lie down again and bury himself under the covers, but Dom realizes his intentions, so he snatches the covers from his hands and lifts him by brute force, turning him with his stomach on the mattress.

"Don't you even try, Bells! Now you're up and I'm gonna do whatever it takes not to make you fall asleep again, even if that means to keep riding you savagely nonstop!" the blond warns him as he straddles his back.

And it's enough a tiny contact with a certain part of his blond partner's body to make Matthew realize that he satisfies all the requirements to do that for real.

There's no need to say that for him this is more effective than forty alarm clocks ringing at the same time!

"Mm... sounds so tempting." he murmurs contently, arching his back against his pelvis in order to propel him, although they both still wear boxers and t-shirts.

"Let's fall into temptation, then!" the other exclaims, ready to pull down both his and his partner's boxers, but he is forced to abandon that luxurious plan, since they hear someone knock at the door.

"Dom, it's me, open the door, it's an emergency!" Chris calls him out as he keeps knocking.

Matt and Dom instantly get up, with the same stock phrase.

"Shit!"

"It's Chris, he's here, I can't escape, I can't hide, I can't even stay outside the window, since it's seventh floor, I can't..."

"And I can't listen to you a second more! Shut up, Bells! Ok, Chris is here, so what? We have all the time to decide what to do. After all you locked the door yesterday, didn't you?" Dom reminds to him, calmly.

"You're right. No... wait. *You* locked the door, didn't you? Tell me you did!" Matthew looks at him terrified.

"Shit!" they exclaim in unison, again.

"Wait, Chris, I'm coming, don't..." Dom warns him.

< Please, please, please, don't let him open the door!> he implores his lucky stars as he walks towards the door and Matt looks for any way to escape, anything but hiding inside a cupboard, since he's so agitated that he might have a claustrophobic attack, although he has never suffered from it before.

It seems that Dominic's lucky stars have something better to do than listen to their protégé, since Chris manages to open the door on his own, pulling the handle down.

"Dom, I'm in, you know, the door was already open." Chris announces as he heads towards the bedroom, as Dom has already turned around, coming back to Matt.

< Please, please, please, make him invisible!> the blond goes on with his absurd requests, already aware that if his lucky stars didn't help him with the first very attainable wish, they surely won't help him with his second, more than impossible, one.

< Uhmm, maybe I could climb on the roof and stay stuck there until Chris goes away, hoping that he never looks above him. Uh! Too bad that there's only a little, very irrelevant problem: I. Am. *Not*. Spiderman. Damn! I've seen those movies too many times. By the way, the sequel is coming soon. No, Matt, what the hell are you doing? This is not the proper time to think about that. Mm, I should ask Dom to wear that costume next time we... Bloody hell, no, it's not even the fucking time to think about that either!> Matt scolds himself, taking his mind off that exciting eventuality.

After all Dom and he have no more time to think, since Chris is about to reach them.

Matt lies down on the floor, looking under the bed, as if he was searching for something.

"Here you are, finally, I wondered where the hell you were disappeared! Anyway, damn, what are you doing here?" Chris asks him, puzzled.

"No, they're not even here!" Matt states as he gets up, nonchalantly.

"Oh, Chris, you're here. Why?" he pretends to notice him.

"What the bloody hell are *you* doing here?" Chris asks him again.

"Ask him what I'm doing here!" Matt snaps, pointing angrily at Dom.

Instead, Dom begs him with his eyes, with a 'Please-please-please-don't-let-him-ask-me-because-I- don't- really-know-what-I'm-supposed-to-answer!' look.

"I'll tell you what. Mr. Fun here had the brilliant idea of hiding in his room my white braces and I can't find them anywhere and I need to wear them!" Matt explains, pretending to lose his patience.

"Let me see if I got it straight. You want to wear those bloody braces just this bloody morning at *six o' clock*!" Chris sums up, staring at Matt in disbelief.

"Yep, why not?" he nods.

"And you had nothing better to do than sneak through his room, steal his braces and hide them in this room." Chris goes on, staring at Dom in disbelief.

"Well, you know I like stupid jokes!" the blond shrugs.

Chris thinks about it for a while, but then he reminds to himself that he's talking with Matthew 'Oddness-is-my-second-name' Bellamy and Dominic 'I'll-never-ever-grow-up' Howard, so... everything fits in.

"You two will never change!" Chris rolls his eyes as he shakes his head in resignation.

"Actually... in a certain sense we did." Dom mumbles softly.

"What?" Chris wonders.

"Never mind!" Matt answers for him, kicking Dom's ankle from behind.

"Anyway, now it's our turn to ask questions: what the hell are you doing here at this time?" Matt wonders.

"Tom has just called me. It seems that there are some troubles with the private flight. I'm waiting for his confirmation." he announces and with an astonishing timing Chris' mobile starts ringing as the written 'Tom calling' blinks on the display.

"Tell me, Tom!" Chris exhorts him as he switches on the speaker phone in order to make all them hear him.

"Unfortunately it's confirmed. You can't have the private flight, so..."

"Oh-no-it's-a-tragedy-we'll-miss-the-show-we'll-let-our-fans-down-they-all-will-be-pissed-off-and-the'll-spread-the-word-so-we'll-lose-every-single-fan-in-the-whole-world-and-the-Warner-will-kick-our-asses-and..." Matthew gets alarmed as he utterly forgets the importance of breathing and pausing sometimes.

"Shit, Matt, are you bloody done?" Tom snaps.

"Not yet. So we'll lose our job, all our gigs, then we'll lose all our money and the only crowd I'll be able to play my guitar for will be the people on the subway, where I'll end up performing for money!" Matt goes on, slower, but not less agitated, of course.

Tom keeps solemnly silent for a while.

"Now I'm done!" Matthew informs him.

"I've never heard so much crap all at once! Please, now do a favour to the whole Universe and SHUT THE FUCKING HELL UP!" his manager flies into rage. "You won't miss a bloody anything. I've already booked another flight for you, it's just that it's not your private airplane, but..."

"NO PRIVATE AIRPLANE? So, I won't have my pink velvet seat, I won't have my very restocked mini-bar, I won't have my mirror collections from all over the world, my DVD collection of fashion shows, my..." Dominic gets alarmed.

"Chris, do you think that you can kill them both and then perform all alone from now on?" Tom wants to ascertain, exasperated.

"I can do much better. Do you want to hurt them really bad? Just leave Matt without bananas and Dom without hairspray!" Chris chuckles and then he stares threateningly at the other two.

Matthew turns pale and doesn't give out a sound. That proves how shocked he is.

"No, please, you... you wouldn't dare... would you? You have no idea of what humidity can do to my poor hair! I'll be good, I promise, I won't complain anymore. I'll even accept to... to fly with..." Dom assures, before gulping down heavily. "... a low cost company!" he concludes, horrified.

"Wait a minute. A low cost company? NO WAY! I must have my free drinks, the hostesses bring along the airport trolley with the things to buy just once, do you understand? * Only once*! Plus, I must have all the magazines and..." Chris starts getting alarmed.

"Ok, I made my decision. I'm gonna kill you all and then * I* will perform on my own!" Tom declares, more and more exasperated.

"Anyway, calm down, all of you. It's a normal flight, first class, you can make it through. I want you to be at airport in two hours for the check in, end of that speech!" the manager summons them.

"One last thing before I go. Have you already started thinking about what you want for the Wembley show? I know that there's still time for it, but we'd better hurry up with the setting." Tom explains.

"Uhmm. Actually I was thinking about something pretty simple. I don't know... Chris, Dom and I flying on some kind of space skateboards, or playing inside a circle of fire, or surrounded by water falls, or with platforms that keep spreading coloured lights from the stage... or even better, all those things put together!" Matthew suggests.

"Please, please, please, tell me that you're kidding!" Chris looks at him with begging eyes.

"Does he look like someone who's kidding? Oh, Bells, you're such a genius, that's so cool!" Dominic rejoices.

"Tell me you didn't hear them!" Chris rolls his eyes as he talks with Tom.

"I'll pretend I didn't. Ok, guys, I guess that you still have to think about that seriously... *a lot*!" Tom states, before a girl calls him from afar.

"Hey, Tommy, come here, the Jacuzzi is ready!"

"Uh, gotta go. Just take the bloody airplane and... bye!" Tom hangs up abruptly, leaving them with a halo of mystery.

Chris takes all their mind off.

"Hey, speaking of Wembley, guess what?"

"What?" Dom wonders.

"Your dear friends, the My Chemical Romance, will be one of our supporter bands, it's official! See? There's a role reversal!" the bassist announces, turning to Matt.

"Oh, that's great! I really wish they will be the first ones to perform!" the frontman comments.

"So, you want them to get all the attentions since they are the first ones, don't you? Oh, that's so nice from you!" Chris smiles.

"No way! I want them to be the very first ones because hopefully, if London gives us a rare but extremely hot sunny day, they'll get the hottest hour to perform, so they'll probably melt down on the stage. And since they always wear black outfits, well, it would be delightedly worse!" Matthew sneers evilly.

"Never mind!" Chris rolls his eyes and Dom can't help mirroring his friend's action.

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

Obeying to their manager's impositions, Muse arrives at Chicago Airport on about 8:00 a.m., ready to do the check in.

In order not to make Chris suspicious, Matt had to wore those white braces for real, without even caring about the clothes he matched them with... which is a very grisly, way too colourful, jumble.

Lucky for them, there's not a big request for that flight, so the short queue flows pretty quickly.

At least it was like that until their turn arrives.

Chris boards his baggage first, then Matthew does the same... and normality still rules.

But when it's Dom's turn to board his baggage, something changes.

"That one, too, Sir!" the hostess warns him as she points at the hot pink trolley.

"Oh, sure!" Dom answers, as he gets ready to board even that one.

"Wait. What the bloody hell are you doing?" Matt intervenes.

"He's boarding it, Sir!" the hostess replies warmly.

"No way! Stop it!" Matthew tries to prevent it, but it's too late and his trolley is already on the conveyor belt, where it's taken, weighted and put down with the other baggage.

"I'm sorry, but it's too big!" the girl explains patiently.

"Yeah, I admit that he got a little fatter, but, you know, when you travel all around the world, making very short stops, you keep eating bad stuff at the wrong time of day, so..."

"You're kidding, Sir, right?" the hostess wonders as he stares at him in disbelief. And judging by his outfit, the girl has some point in thinking that that guy doesn't boast such a great mental health.

"Why? What did I say wrong? Anyway, I repeat, you can't board him. He's not very friendly and crowded places scares the hell out of him. It was already hard for him when I had to board him in Italy." Matt goes on.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Sir?" the hostess snaps, bothered.

"No, I think you're heartless! Pinkie doesn't deserve that!" Matt strikes back, as he starts whimpering.

Dominic comes promptly to help him.

"Please, be kind, Miss Check-In..."

"Look, Sir, I have got a name!" the girl points out, showing him her badge, kinda rudely.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Anyway, please, can you turn a blind eye for once?" he goes on, resorting to his lethal pout... but that seems to have no effects on her.

"After all, you know who we are, don't you?" he adds.

"I haven't the slightest idea, but I start believing that he's someone who has just escaped from a madhouse !" she answers, pointing at Matt who is staring melancholy at his trolley, 'trapped' at the other side with all the other baggage.

"WHAT? Don't you know us? Really? Don't you know the band *I* play in?" Dominic wonders astonished.

"I really don't. Maybe it's not the kind of music I listen to, so..." the girl justifies.

"It's not a fucking matter of music. It's about me, me, ME! C'mon, how can it be that you don't know me? Everyone does. Plus, this summer, in the middle of June, we'll step into History, *I* will step into History, you can't miss that. Lucky for you, there are still some months left, you can still manage to know us good and proper, but you must hurry up!" the blond urges her.

"Ok, I guess it's * two people* who escaped from a madhouse!" the hostess grumbles as she rolls her eyes, before realizing that the first 'fugitive' is behind her.

"What the hell are you doing?" the girl questions him, as her patience runs out.

"I'm bringing him with me. Period." Matt insists, dragging the trolley away with him until he reaches Dominic.

"To begin with, I still don't understand why you care about it so bad, since it's his trolley, not yours!" the hostess comments.

"This is a long story and I don't want to tell you." Matt strikes back, giving the trolley back to Dom.

"Anyway, I've already told you that YOU CAN'T! It's too big. It doesn't fit in the overhead compartment!" the girl insists, increasing the volume of her voice.

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! Just make the fucking overhead compartments fucking bigger!" Matthew yells back, at the edge of hysteria... or maybe he has already crossed that edge.

Before things get even worse, Chris intercedes.

"You two, leave me alone with her, now!" he exclaims, turning to his friends who leave with their precious trolley.

"Hey! Stop, you two, you can't take it." the hostess attempts to protest, but Chris cuts her off as he places a finger on her mouth.

"Shh. Let them go..." he murmurs silkily, as he leans on the counter in order to read her badge.

"I'm sure that we can find an agreement, can't we, Gabrielle?" he goes on, showing her his best piercing look.

She immediately liked Chris, mostly because he was the only one of that trio to do the boarding without complaining. But now that she is observing him better, and she also must add the way he said her name, those piercing dark eyes that are starting intently at her make her legs weak. That half smile, but mostly the extreme virility that seems to overwhelm every single cell of that man turns that beginning liking into something more that is messing around with her hormones.

"I... I guess we can." she meows, charmed.

Anyway, Chris is not done yet with his persuasive trial. The guy draws out of his wallet two banknotes of 100,00$.

"First, let my friend board that damn trolley..." he suggests her, as he elongates the first banknote to the girl.

"Second, make also my other friend happy. I'll tell you what: go to him and tell him that you were confused, but now you recognized us. By the way, the name of our band is Muse. Plus, add that your favourite songs are 'Plug in Baby', 'Stockholm Syndrome' and 'Knights of Cydonia', especially for the things he does with the drums!" Chris goes on, elongating even the second banknote to her.

"You know, if you ask me this way, I could almost do that for free." she admits.

"Oh, really?" he wonders, as he's about to take his money back, but she's quicker than him and pockets them.

"I said *almost*. After all 200 bucks are 200 bucks!" she explains, making him smile.

"So, the blondie is the drummer, isn't he? Instead, the other one, the ugly pixie, strikes me as someone who plays something short and pretty useless, such as the squeeze box, the tambourine or the triangle. About you... well, you must be the frontman, am I right?" the girl smiles at him.

"Hell no, you're totally wrong, but thanks anyway. Actually, the one you called 'ugly pixie' happens to be the frontman. About me, well, I'm the bassist." he reveals.

"Well, if they are all like you, bassists surely are the sexiest men on the whole Planet!" she meows languidly.

"You know, I could marry you just for the things you say." Chris smiles at her, plus he has to admit that she is a beautiful girl, too.

Anyway, as punctual as implacable, almost as if it wanted to remind to him that he has already got a wife, a lovely wife, for the record, his mobile starts ringing. There's no need to say who is calling him.

"Kelly, luv, of course I was thinking about you, you know I always do." Chris answers as he goes temporary away, as the hostess watch him leave disillusioned, envying the lucky woman he's telling those sweet things to, and then she decides to fulfil his very well paid requests, looking for his friends.

It's pretty easy to figure out that since they started their boarding, just five minutes after the company has opened another counter service, in order to allow the rest of the queue to flow without any troubles.

When he ends his phone call, Chris comes back to the hostess who enjoys the amazing sight of him for the last time.

"You know, there's something I absolutely have to tell you."

The girl already daydreams about speeches involving instant and mutual crushes, declarations of love, romantic and crazy love escapes...

"Coming from behind I couldn't help noticing your bag." he admits, pointing at the white crochet-hook bag on a shelf under the counter.

"Did you make it on your own?"

The girl almost fears to answer to that odd question.

"Ye... yes. Why?" she asks him as she sees all her romantic fantasies shatter mercilessly.

"Gee! You're so good! You know, I'm also trying to make something on my own, but I'm going to reach a point where things get harder. So, please, please, please, could I turn to you if I needed help with it?" he asks her, as calm as possible.

The hostess stares at him between disbelief and shock as she sees his so manly 'macho' attitude fade away.

And it was the last straw.

"You have ten seconds to get the hell out of here, before I change my mind, catch you and your damn crazy friends, put you inside that fucking trolley- don't ask me how, I just know I would manage to do that – and send you far away to the most secluded place on this Earth with a one-way ticket!" she snaps as she glares at him.

So, Chris has no other choice than disappear as fast as possible and reach the others as he walks away kinda puzzled.

< What the bloody hell did I say wrong? Uhmm, maybe I'd better read again that 101 ways book. >

TBC

Ok, a little question for you: among Matt, Dom and Chris whom do you think I'm 'cruellest' with? ;P

I had a lot of fun writing this crazy and kinda long chapter, I hope you'll have fun reading it.

If you took your time to leave me a comment (even a word!) it would make my day, but thanks anyway.

[backandimbamon]

Bonnie playing with Damon's hair and he all sleepy 😊

this really took a while because… i was going to stop at the first half but i wanted to consider Bonnie’s perspective (: and then it got a lil spicy and i was like *sigh* why must you always take it there? but i mean- 👁- i always take it there because we were robbed!!! Damon is practically a self proclaimed sex god and i hate how they separated Bonnie from her sexuality, or really any form of intimacy for sooo long. and the scraps we got were NEVER enough. okay anyways yeah i’m finally done, like let’s get into it.

Damon notices that Bonnie touches him sparingly and really not because she wants to but because it happens accidentally every now and then, one of the perks about frequently invading her space.

Being stuck on the other side, there is less room for her and more for him, she’s in his world now which means it’s his duty to make her feel as uncomfortably comfortable as possible.

He notices everything; how her cheeks turn red when their knuckles brush against one another’s, how she takes in an exasperated little breath when their shoulders touch, how she rolls her eyes when he stands entirely too close. Damon hangs on to these moments because this may be his only form of female contact he’ll receive for a very, very, long time.

That is the only reason he hangs on.

Anytime she touches him intentionally, he feels a pride swell deep in his chest that he’s liked by Bonnie after a rocky road of ups and downs, fussing and fighting, he is finally deemed worthy enough for her to care about him even if it’s brief, even if it’s the smallest skin to skin contact imaginable.

And yes, he cares because if he has to spend the rest of eternity with one person, they might as well get along.

Movie night comes around so he rests his head in her lap, testing the waters, to see how she will respond to him. He senses her tense up a bit as predicted, but then she relaxes into it breath by breath like she’s doing a tricky yoga pose.

Bonnie’s body lotion makes her skin smell edible- cocoa and honey- she’ll never know but that’s why he nicknames her Bon Bon, she always smells good enough to eat. At this point, Damon can’t recall the VHS movie on the block of a television, his focus has been robbed by Bonnie and this new form of contact she allows him to try. Half of his smile sinks into the cotton of her leggings.

Her eyes never leave the screen when she laces her fingers through his hair, nails surfing through tufts of raven-black and the gesture is so shocking and embarrassingly arousing that a strangled groan gets trapped in his throat.

She panics, and he can tell by the change in her heart rate before saying. “Did I hurt you?” He has to clear his throat to speak.

“Hmmm mm, feels good,” he mumbles feigning casual so she can’t realize how he needs this so so bad that he’s fearful of it being taken away. In his mind he thinks about what if.

What if she wakes up and decides she doesn’t want to tap dance on the line between what is and isn’t acceptable for two best friends. What if she remembers that he’s actually a terrible person who has done horrendous things to her and everyone she’s ever loved.

She shouldn’t like him or try not to laugh at his jokes. Not at all. Bonnie should’ve killed him a long, long time ago because if anyone could do it, it’d be her. He can see her now, all badass and angry with a wooden stake in her hand, vengeance in her eyes, the very last thing he’d see before his lights went out forever.

Bonnie, the giver and the taker.

Bonnie, the only god he knew.

Damon finds himself thinking so intensely lately that he checks the mirror more often than not to make sure he has no brooding lines like his little brother. Stefan’s expansive forehead has the room for it, his perfectly shaped forehead does not.

She laces her fingers back through his hair again and his eyes flutter, that’s how good it feels. It’s sensational. And while he’s had his hair pulled in and out of the bedroom, the innocence of her touch makes him want to melt. He finds his lids growing heavier, like how they used to do a century-and-a-half ago when he was human.

Running through dandelion fields in the overbearing Virginia heat, the sun up above sending heavy gusts of sunshine beams, a moment he considers to be oppressive now, used to be magical then- miraculous -and despite sweating through his britches and overcoat he never cared enough to stop running through the fields. The sun was the greatest thing all those years ago, back when white was his favorite color.

And after drawing a long, hot bath, he’d sink deep into the water while the bubbles floated to the top. Damon would close his eyes, hold his breath, see if he could break his prior record. Then he’d get out and the sleep would welcome him like any drowsy being, with open arms. And there he’d fall.

Bonnie has that affect on him. She makes him think of home, his past, when times were simpler and he was human.

He feels that exhausted sometimes, a boy who’s never stopped running through dandelion fields, whether it snows or rains or burns him alive. Her fingernails rake through his scalp- orange leaves on browning grass. Ruining Stefan’s piles for the fun of it. His lids droop. Tired of being consumed by himself, by Bonnie, he admits defeat this time. When he finally drifts off, he remembers that the Virginia heat gave him this same warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

“You really don’t know how good this feels,” his final words are hoarse before he drifts off but the last thing he sees is Bonnie.

The giver and the taker, the only god he knows.

.

Bonnie refuses to relish in the magic of the moment, the fact that it’s so rare Damon ever completely lets his guard down around her. She can always feel his eyes on her, constantly watching because Damon has a presence that’s inescapable.

Being so close to him when he’s extremely vulnerable makes her realize that in all facets, he’s stunning. A stunning that’s almost suffocating but with the dynamic they possess, he only needs to know that he’s not that much of an eye sore.

Now, she stares with wide eyes while she can, memorizes the smooth expanse of skin, every strand of dark hair. Relishes in the feel of his arms around her waist, the weight of his head in her lap. It’s been a long time since she’s felt a body besides her own and as much as she likes to ignore the fact, she has needs, needs that have swelled from being in the presence of Damon for too long.

He’s sexy without any effort, she examines. His dark t-shirt has risen and his pants are low enough that she observes the waistline of (silk?) boxers, taut muscle, navel, happy trail, yeah. Bonnie drinks him in like a cool glass of milk before bedtime- never has this much pretty been in her lap before. Her hands find their way in his head again, tousles through and he nuzzles up against her in his sleep. It’s difficult to pull her eyes away from him, but when she does, the credits are rolling on the screen.

This is Damon she’s thinking about like this, her best friend and also her first best friend’s boyfriend. She repeats it again, not satisfied that the guilt isn’t drowning her like it sometimes does when she catches herself lingering on his attractiveness for too long but Mystic Falls, the real Mystic Falls seems so far away. Elena, Caroline, Matt, Alaric, her old life just seems unattainable, no bigger than a memory she occasionally mistakes for a bad dream.

There’s no denying that being away from it all, here with Damon as the only other person in the world, she feels…safe. Maybe even protected, it’s a stark contrast from the real Mystic Falls where her life is always on the line.

Bonnie starts to get up when she feels his hold on her tighten to prevent her from moving away. They play tug of war for a bit but she eventually stops fighting because Damon is a vampire after all, physical strength is going to get her nowhere. “Fine,” she grumbles, then plops down which causes the end of her top to ride up enough that she can feel the press of Damon’s nose on the curve of her waist. Despite trying to inch her shirt back down, she has no luck. Naturally Damon doesn’t mind.

He inhales her skin deeply, makes a sound of approval before groggily muttering, “Going topless now, are we Judgey?”

She grabs his hair again, yanks his head back as a rebuttal, and Damon bites his tongue so hard that it bleeds. He has to ensure that all of the blood in his body isn’t rushing south too fast but unfortunately, he would have to sever both his arms completely off to stop the blood flow.

Bonnie realizes the dazed look in his eyes isn’t one of pain nor is it from sleep, “Not the reaction you expected, huh?” He asks, gesturing for her to look down but she doesn’t, she can’t. She’s embarrassed, and to make matters worse, a teensy bit turned on.

“You scared, Bon Bon? I thought you were big and bad,” Damon mocks, pulling between his legs to make more room in his jeans, “it’s okay. I know Jeremy left much to be desired.” He sits up with swirls of longing still in his eyes, then grabs a pillow to place in his lap.

“Scared?” She guffaws. “Of what exactly?”

“Me…You.”

“And that means?”

“You’re a smart girl, Bon, figure it out.” Damon taunts, holding her eyes with his. “It’s awfully lonely here.”

She says nothing for a while, refusing to break eye contact first. “So.”

“Soooo, I won’t tell if you won’t.” It’s almost a joke, almost because she has a feeling if she says yes to whatever sort of ambiguous proposal he’s thrown up in the air, there won’t be any laughter. If she says no, it’s no different from his usual innuendos but boy, will she wonder.

“Wanna take a walk on the wild side?” He asks in a singsong tone, eyes dropping to her lips then back up to her eyes.

There are no alarms, no cell phones, no one here that can interrupt this moment. She has to answer, though she has no idea what will come out of her mouth. Bonnie shuts her eyes to make the moment less real, as if it will change the fact that she whispers, “Just one kiss,”

They’re nose to nose when Damon whispers back, “a peck.”

She swallows his breath. “Mhmm,”

“It’s nothing,”

“Nothing.”

“As light as air,” he presses his lips to hers for a brief moment then pulls back again. “See.” He peppers more kisses on her lips, down her jaw, the side of her neck, but they’re heavier. They have a density now. His tongue is on the flesh of her shoulder, teasing up her neck. She feels the light imprint of sharp canines, arousal surges through her like a power circuit, so intense that she moans. When he makes his way back up, their mouths both open in a feral kiss that robs them of air.

Bonnie holds his face in place though he makes no attempt to move away. The pillow falls out from between them when he grabs Bonnie’s leg to straddle him.

It’s nothing.

Nothing separating them from attacking each other’s mouths, nothing stopping Damon from gripping his best friend’s hips, nothing saving Bonnie from discarding his shirt.

His skin is cool enough that she can stream together some thought in between relentless kisses. “Damon,” she tries her best to sound admonishing.

“Please, not right now.” Damon cuffs both her wrists behind her with one hand and plants a hickey just above her cleavage. She sees stars. He already knows what the inflection in her voice means- the timing couldn’t be worse.“Let’s save the guilt for tomorrow morning.” His tone is octaves lower, almost as low as his lids. He drags his eyes up to hers, and they’re so shiny she can see her reflection. “I need this, Bonnie. Don’t you?”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just continues on with his ministrations, hypnotized by the pheromones seeping off of her in waves, wanting to memorize the scent with his tongue. She whines his name, like actually whines his name, and the feeling that sits in the pit of his stomach scares him. Bonnie is so oblivious to the appeal she carries but if she sat in his skin for a day, hell, for a moment, she would realize just how long she’s been driving him insane.

“We can’t,” she groans weakly. “We can’t.”

Damon tries to breathe easier, but that feeling is lurking in his gut. She’s right. The things he’d do to her, he’d break her in half. He removes Bonnie from his lap, separates from her warmth, her scent. Backs away until the tv threatens to fall off the stand. Everything in him tells him to go back, to reenter the magnetic pull, to poke at her forcefield.

He backs away even further if possible. Her breath catches at the distance.

Bonnie’s cheeks are flushed, warm and red like fruit. If she was an apple, she would have already been eaten down to the core. If she was a peach, it would be easier to explain why he ate her. He thinks to himself that he’s officially off the rails, comparing Bonnie to fruit like he is, but he’s trying to rationalize his irrationality. Because if Bonnie never stopped him, he’d definitely be eating something by now.

“Nothing happened.” She says, ignoring his expression and the silent plea in his eyes.

“Nothing.” He deadpans, throwing his shirt back over his head.

Damon thinks of how different things would be if he had his way. Bonnie, spent, drunk, high off of him. Bleeding and wild, pretty and dangerous, yelling for God. He would plunge Jeremy right out of her, help her find her magic again. Give her everything she could dream of. He gulps.

She doesn’t sleep with him tonight, not in the same bed. She’s on the opposite end of the boarding house when he hears her slide under the covers.

The next morning, he thinks to himself, if she even utters a word about last night, he’ll pick up from where he left off. But she doesn’t, her eyes are far away again, and the only proof he has of their adventures is the wonderful, purple hickey.

When movie night comes back around, his head is in her lap and her hand is back in his hair, running to and fro like him in his lavender fields.

That’s all he gets.

Every now and then, it’s enough.

Bonnie gives and takes, then takes away some more.

She’s the closest thing to God he’ll probably ever know.

[captainsspnanon]

C2E56 - The Favor - rewatch reaction

BEA-CON. BEA-CON. BEA-CON. BEA-CON.  BAD. ASS. CA-LEB.  BAD. ASS. CA-LEB.

Can you tell I’m excited for this episode????

Holy fuck I forgot Tal wasn’t here for this one!!

OH SHIT, Aimee’s in the Sam bit!  HI AIMEE!!!!!!

Wait, Grey DeLisle too??  It’s just early cameo time!

Tony Hale, he was in TLOVM too, wasn’t he?

Skipped the intro again.  It’s interesting, I haven’t skipped the C3 intro yet, but I think it’s because I’ve been watching it live or live-ish on twitch, rather than the youtube release.  I think I’d be skipping it if I were on youtube.  I skipped the C1 intros fairly early on, only watching them maybe one or two times apeice.  C2 I watched for a bit but then started skipping.

(I also keep wanting to go on tumblr, but because I’m now in the watching of Calamity e3 to finish it sometime this weekend, I’m now trying to actually avoid full on finale stuff.  Which makes it hard because I follow a ton of CR folks, so basically have to disconnect until I’m ready. ….I might give up by tomorrow)

(wow it is long past when I typed that up, isn’t it?  It’s been...something.  Left my dnd group halfway through the second session and been too mentally screaming at the world for CR.  But time to jump back in!  I want my Essek! [though I don’t even remember if he shows up this episode or if it’s the next.]  Also Calamity was super fucking awesome, omg)

I’d actually paused right after the intro, for which I’m VERY glad, because having the refresher of ‘last we left off’ really helped this time.  Also, I love how it’s now, after over a year of the M9 and years of VM, that Matt is finally accepting that the cast will shout obscenities at him before the game.  I’m fairly certain they did this in C1 as well, how did he think that they would stop? XD

I do miss the Detect Magic, Identify, Comprehend Languages ritual I-know-everything of Caleb.  This is a PC that is very unique to this campaign, as in C1 and so far in C3, we don’t have anyone else with that heavy focus into learning what things are and being able to share that with the group.  It’s also good confirmation that it’s not something that is needed, but also doesn’t break a campaign when it’s there. The Nein, while more easily able to learn what things are, still end up muddling through the same way the VM did, and sometimes even with the knowledge end up going down the wrong path.  Plus, as we know upcoming, Identify doesn’t always indicate that an item is cursed, so they are still tricked by that as well.

Matt giving the explanation that the demon heart didn’t collapse into sludge like the rest of the body because it was pulled out using electricity, and then immediately going ‘also ‘cause it’s fucking cool that you have a demon heart so you get to keep it despite RAW’.

FRIENDSHIP FRIENDSHIP!!!!!  First they all crack up and get Matt to facepalm with the numerous pussy jokes, then Matt gets them sweating by very visibly holding up a d20 ‘just because it’s pretty’.

Matt!Caduceus just sounds like Sam Elliott from The Big Lebowski.  Also, once again, having the players initiate and then Matt be like ‘nope we’re waiting for the player to be here’, though it seemed clear that the players weren’t expecting the moment to happen.  Instead, it was 1) wanting to hear Matt’s impression, and 2) initiating the moment so that it won’t lead to any ‘you didn’t ask me about this for a WEEK’ type situations.

(also lol I typed Sam Eliot first then double checked the spelling.  LOOK, Leverage is fucking awesome okay.  And I will 100% be doing a Leverage rewatch reaction at some point too, because it’s so good and I have thoughts.)

I’m honestly not sure if Fjord was trying to check and see if Caleb was still willing to turn on the party, or if Travis was giving Liam an opportunity to admit that Ikithon used a memory spell to have Caleb turn on his family.  My best bet is that it was a level of both combined.  Liam is way too fucking good at portraying sad, broken Caleb though MY HEART.  I had been looking forwards to the post conversations of the mental takeover, but thinking on it, I think this might actually be it?  I don’t remember any big moments about it, so it might actually be more easily pushed aside as ‘it was mind control, no need to read anything further into it’.  UGH YASHA MY HEART.  I can’t wait until Ashley’s back.  Matt does some good stuff as Yasha, but Ashley is the one who really captures how broken she feels because of the multiple instances of mind control, and just how much she hates it.

I will say that the biggest character jump for me, from C2 to C1, was seeing the transition from Yasha to Pike.  Fjord to Grog is big, but Travis is very clever in the way he plays Grog and uses his own intelligence to KEEP Grog from being intelligent.  But Yasha to Pike??  It’s just two very different extremes, and yet two utter badasses.  While I’m still sure that watching C2 first was the right choice for me for a number of reasons, I do wonder what it must have been like going from the C1 PCs into the C2 PCs and seeing all of these different people suddenly.   I didn’t have a jarring sensation moving into C3, but that’s because I’d seen C2 and then C1.  I am looking forwards to my eventual C1 rewatch, to see if now that I’m more used to them playing different characters, if I might warm up more to the C1 PCs, which I’m much more neutral towards at this time.  I like them, but I don’t really LOVE any of them the same way I adore the C2 crew. (I’ve got some that I love from C3, the remainder I think just need time to keep growing on me, but I like ‘em all!)

Have I ever given Laura enough credit for how she just thoroughly embodies her PCs?  I don’t think I have.  NOT ENOUGH, NEVER ENOUGH.  Jester freaking out in excitement over another follower of the Traveler is just SO completely in character that it’s as if I can’t imagine the reaction any other way.  Laura is just not there, there is only Jester.  And Laura has done this fantastically with Vex and with Imogen, just embodying them SO well and so naturally!

I’m really just singing praise for all of these guys as actors because they’re all fucking phenomenal, each just hits me harder at certain moments, and right now it’s Laura.

Covak “thought it was strange that a fair folk would visit an old codger like myself” holy shit is this the first obvious hint we have that the Travler is Artagan???  And the language was completely breezed over in the moment!  But no one in Exandria uses the term Fair Folk for the deities!  *does a transcript search* okay maybe no one uses them for the fey either.  The only other useage of it was Kaylie telling Scanlan off, in reference to herself.  BUT STILL.  It’s such common usage in the real world!  I completely feel like it was a hint from Matt.

I forgot that the other followers of the Traveler tend to do a lot more mean spirited ‘pranks’.  Shitting in wells?  That’s….not a prank.  That’s contaminating the water supply and making who knows how many people sick.

I also forgot how jealous Jester is of her position with the Traveler and being his favorite – though I’m now remember she has him remove other people’s ability to do Sending because she thought it was her own special spell.  As much as she’s constantly a sweetheart, there are definitely moments where she’s a bit darker.  I tend to forget that.

Lol at them being told that by finding the rift machine that they have done ‘a great service to the Dynasty’.  LADY YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHING YET.

I do like that the entire group doesn’t feel like they have to do the high Charisma = player must do all the talking.  In each campaign, you’ve got the talkers and then you’ve got the Talkers, but because they don’t feel like they have to limit it to the best in order to Win, you get amazing scenes of people who REALLY SHOULDN’T BE TALKING leading to unexpected and wonderful outcomes.

I’m interested in finding out if I’m right or wrong, but I think Lythir is Lythir Tasithar, and is also the mage that they fought who is going to give them shit to the Bright Queen?

I FORGOT ABOUT THE BDSM GEAR HOW COULD I FORGET ABOUT THE BDSM GEAR

I’m so glad that they brought the moorbounders with them.  Honestly, I wish they kept them more through the campaign, but once they weren’t in Xhorhas, it doesn’t really make sense.   I headcanon that they got them back from Bazzozan and that they are kept at the Xhorhaus while the gang is there, but when they are not that they are treated well and are quite happy.

For as much that I don’t have to say during the waiting period, there actually are good character moments here.  Imagine early campaign Beau being told that she’d be used as a human bench.  She wouldn’t just joke about throwing a bench, she’d likely physically harm the person AND have some very nasty comments in return.  Caleb wouldn’t just exasperatedly ask how he’d managed to get here with these people, he’d be thinking of plans to throw them under the bus and ways to ensure only his and Nott’s safety, and only his if it REALLY came down to it.  It’s subtle, but it’s so much honest progress for these two, just the sheer growth that the Nein has put them through.

For all that this episode is SUCH a game changer for the campaign, I’m genuinely surprised to rediscover that the actual moment is so brief.  For an episode that is three hours long only, the conversation with the Bright Queen doesn’t even START until 2:39.

This is also where I go ‘wait, that’s the voice??’  This has happened a few times during a campaign.  Essek, while he’s not here yet, I’ve seen clips of him speaking and it always takes me a moment to remember how he sounds.  As for the Bright Queen, I remember it sounding a bit more feminine, so I’m wonder if Matt adjusts how he speaks later in the campaign, or if it’s just a case of remember the character rather than the actor, and the voice changing accordingly.

I FORGOT NOTT USED THE MOTE OF POSSIBILITY AAAAAAA (This at 2:44.  Man, the defining moment of this episode REALLY doesn’t come til late!)

I can’t imagine how the campaign would have gone if Caleb didn’t give the beacon (we’re not even at that moment YET!).  Seriously!  They VERY suddenly were in complete shit.  Using the mote, and then with Lythir confirming that they attacked the Kryn (defended themselves but who cares about the technicalities here???), they were going to be attacked, arrested, guaranteed their bags would be searched and I completely agree with Liam that the beacon would have been found and then they would have been SUPER fucked.  So it’s so interesting to watch this and have no clue how it could have turned out, and remember that pretty much everyone else did NOT like the choice that Liam made!  And I say Liam and not Caleb!!  Because if I recall correctly, especially during the Talks, that it was out of character disagreement with the choice of action! (correction from a few minutes ahead, okay, Travis is really against, but Laura is for, Sam seems to be either way, not sure how Marisha reads it, I think she was against?  But also like, not against in that they’re going to hold it against Liam or anything like that.   FUN disagreement, not anger disagreement)

2:51.  Ten minutes left of the episode (including any end card time), and NOW Caleb is starting his desperate play.

LOL the episode ended RIGHT after and then it was just Matt being like ‘wtf do I do now’ for the next five minutes or so.  I LOVE IT.

FUCKING GAME CHANGER.  LET’S GO. (no essek yet sadface)

@suicidallyreckless

[granolabird]

I’ll Always be There For You

Tonights episode was a doozy. BUT!! We got some solid Hournite moments so I’m here with a fic of Beth taking care of Rick after his fight with Artemis, and they have a conversation regarding Rick’s self-sacrifice habits. 

Warnings: Mention of injury. Lots of fluff :)

Post 2x06 so if you’re not there yet in the show, there are spoilers ahead!

Tagging @blackfemmecharacterdependency 

!! If you want to be tagged for next Tuesday’s Hournite fic feel free to ask :)

.

It’s late at the Pit Stop, but neither Beth nor Rick want to go home. Yolanda is long gone, having to comply with the curfew set by her parents, leaving Beth and Rick alone. So here they are, sitting close as they try to comprehend what’s happened. Things had been going so well, and then Eclipso had escaped, killing Issaac, Cindy, and possibly The Shade too. Rick adjusts in his chair with a grimace, his breathing labored as he struggles with the pain of his broken rib.

“Rick! Are you okay?”

Rick forces a smile onto his face as he turns to Beth,

“I’ll be alright, yeah.”

“Are you sure? There’s not much I can do, broken ribs need to heal on their own but I can double check that everything’s okay, if you want?”

“It’s a broken rib, it’ll heal in time. I’ve had one before, I’ll live.” “You’ve had one before!? Rick, how do you get yourself into these situations?”

“It wasn’t my fault. It was Matt.”

“Oh.”

A moment of silence, and Rick sighs as he sees Beth begin to fidget restlessly. She does that whenever she isn’t sure what to say. He’s pretty sure it’s a habit she’s picked up from him.

“There is something you can help with.” He offers, and Beth immediately perks up, looking his way.

“Really?” “I think there’s a cut on my arm from one of the porcelain shards from my fight with Artemis. Now that the rib pain is starting to settle, my arm is really starting to hurt.” He rolls his left arm as he says it, and Beth gets up immediately, sliding around him to look at his arm.

“Well, roll your sleeve up and I’ll take a look.” She gestures to his injured arm, and he forces back a wince as he rolls up his sleeve. 

“Jeez!” 

“What? Is it that bad?” Rick cranes his head to see his wound, but stops when it sends a jolt of pain through his cracked ribs. “Well it’s not that good. But you’ll live.” Beth provides a small laugh and Rick is glad that she still has the capacity to joke despite everything they’d witnessed tonight.

Beth walks over to the table and begins organising her first aid kit, grabbing cotton balls, rubbing alcohol and bandages and putting them into a neat stack.

“Doesn’t your costume protect you from injury? How did this happen?” She asks, and Rick sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm.

“The cape protects me. The costume is just as vulnerable as I would be without it on.” He explains and Beth’s head shoots up, her eyes wide.

“Rick!” Her tone is accusatory.

“What?” “You jumped in front of me when Artemis shot at me. If those arrows didn’t hit your cape, they could’ve killed you!”

“It was worth the risk. I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I could’ve saved you.” And that’s the honest truth. 

If anything happened to Beth, it would be the end for Rick. He would go off the deep end, let his rage consume him, probably get himself killed doing something stupid. She was the only person he truly trusted, the person who always had his back no matter what. The two of them had a bond like no others on the team, they grounded one another, and kept each other safe and sane. If something were to happen to Beth… Rick can’t even bring himself to think of what he might do to whoever had done it.

“Rick.” He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized Beth had sidled up to him with her medical supplies tucked under her arm. He doesn’t look at her, not sure if his words had been too intimate. This is just like him, to go and say something that ruins a relationship, now things are going to be awkward between him and Beth and-

There’s a soft hand on his cheek, directing him to look at Beth.

“Rick.” She’s got such a deep look of concern on her face and it tugs at his heartstrings to see her so worried for him.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t need to risk yourself for me. I can fend for myself.”

“No, Beth, you can’t. You don’t have strength like me and Yolanda, or a weapon like Court. You have your goggles, and you're brilliant, but on the battlefield I worry that isn’t enough. I worry that it’ll get you hurt one day, and if you get hurt I won’t know what to do with myself.”

Her hand is still resting on his cheek, and as he makes eye contact with her he can see she’s formulating a reply, trying to find words to reassure Rick that she’ll be alright. 

“If I get hurt, then you’ll get me to safety. You always do.”

“Beth, we saw Issac and Cindy die tonight. That could’ve been any of us. I can’t get you to safety if you’re… if you...”

“I could say the same about you.” She shakes her head softly and lifts her hand from his face, kneeling to begin cleaning his arm wound.

“That’s different.” Rick huffs, trying not to jerk his arm away when he feels the sting of rubbing alcohol on his cut.

“Really? How?” Beth asks, giving Rick a side glance.

“I’m me. I can take a lot of hits, and if something happens to me? The world keeps turning. I’m more of a nuisance than anything.”

“Rick!”

“It’s true! I have no potential, I’m not going anywhere with my life. You, on the other hand? Beth, you’re destined for great things. Everyone loves you, and you make everyone’s life better. I make everything worse. That’s just who I am.”

“I am going to give you a stern talking to as soon as I finish bandaging your arm. I just need to focus, give me a moment.” Beth huffs, as she begins to wrap Rick’s arm. 

Rick can’t help but laugh, but his chuckle causes the pain in his ribs to flare, making him stop abruptly with a grunt. 

It’s a while before Beth is done, but as soon as she is she gets up, face determined, and pulls her chair in front of Rick. Then she sits so her knees are touching his, and frowns at him. Rick can’t help but smile a little. She looks so cute when she’s trying to be angry at him.

“Hey! Don’t smile, this is serious business.”

“Right, sorry, no smiling.” 

He still smiles just a little.

“Rick, we care about you. You know that right? He shrugs awkwardly, looking at the floor. “Yolanda, Court, Pat, Mike, me, we all care about you. You can’t just keep putting yourself in danger for us saying it’s because you don’t matter, because you do matter! You matter to us!” 

A pause, and then she says a little quieter

“You matter to me.”

He looks up at her, and there are tears in her eyes. She’s genuinely concerned for him. Rick doesn’t know how to react. In all his life he cannot recall someone being so worried for his safety. His parents were, once, but his memory of them is so faded that he barely considers it real.

“You matter to me too.” It’s an awkward confession, but Beth provides Rick with a smile, and so Rick smiles back. The pair laugh for a while, until Rick’s ribs flare up again and he has to stop. 

“So, do you promise not to recklessly throw yourself into danger anymore?” Beth is back to her stern side, and he sighs.

“Fine. But if you’re in trouble there’s no guarantee.” 

“Rick!”

“Hey, I’m just being honest!”

“I appreciate your honesty, but I don’t want you to put yourself in danger because of me.” Beth pokes his knee indignantly.

“But I will. I’m sorry but I will, You’d do the same for me. It’s just the way we are, I think.” 

Beth throws her head back with a disgruntled huff.

“I hate that you’re right.”

He smiles at her, and when she moves her head back down to look at him he sees that she’s smiling softly too. 

“What are we gonna do with ourselves? We’re a mess.” Beth says with a breathy laugh, as she presses her head into her hands.

“Keep on protecting each other I guess.” That’s the best answer Rick can provide. It’s not perfect, but nothing ever is with him.

“Right.” Beth is looking at him again, and there’s something there. Some sort of tension, and Rick thinks there’s something she wants to say. Whatever it is, Beth leaves it unspoken and pushes her chair back, getting up. 

“Well, now that you’re all taken care of I should probably head home. I don’t want to get back too late.” She brushes herself off awkwardly and then starts to pack up her first aid kit.

“Oh, yeah. I’m staying here for the night, but I can give you a ride home, if you want?” Rick offers.

“Can you even drive with broken ribs?”

“Probably. It’s not that far anyway.”

“Alright, but if it hurts too much I can walk.”

Rick nods in agreement, and takes as deep of a breath as he can before he stands, powering through the pain. Then, he and Beth make their way down the stairs to his car. She hops into the passenger seat, and he slides into the driver seat. It’s quiet as he puts the key into the ignition, neither of them quite sure what to say after the deep conversation they’d just had. As the car begins to move, Beth speaks up.

“Thanks, Rick.”

“For giving you a ride? I always do that, you don’t need to thank me every time.”

“For everything. For saving me, for being there for me, and for giving me a ride. And for every other thing you’ve done to keep me together through everything. Just… thanks.”

“Oh. Uh, you're welcome I guess? It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”

“You always say that, but that’s not the point. The point is, over the last little while you’ve done so much to help me. And I’m grateful for that. You don’t need to compare yourself to me. Just know that I’m grateful.”

“I… Alright.” Rick taps his fingers on the steering wheel awkwardly as they pull down Beth’s street, and then stop in front of her house. 

There’s another moment of tense silence that is so common between the unsure teens, and then Beth turns and throws herself at Rick, embracing him in a hug. Rick is startled for a moment, and then the pain in his ribs sets in and he lets out a faint

“Ow. My ribs, Beth.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I entirely forgot!” She lets go instantly, and she looks him over frantically. 

“It’s okay Beth, I’m fine.” He chuckles, and that eases her worry. 

She still checks him over one last time with her goggles just to be sure, and then unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door.

“I guess if you’re sure you're ok I should get going... Um... goodnight.”

“Goodnight Beth. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow! And if you start coughing up blood, or the pain gets worse, call an Ambulance! Don’t call me, I am not a medical professional. Do call me afterwards though, so I can make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay Beth. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

They share one last Smile, before Beth closes the car door and heads to her house, throwing one last look over her shoulder and waving to Rick. Rick gives her a small wave back, before turning around and driving back to the Pit Stop. After tonight, Rick isn’t sure what the two of them are to each other. There was some sort of admittance, he’s not quite sure how to explain it. It wasn’t a grand confession of love, but it was something. Something has changed between them, and all Rick can do is grip his steering wheel and hope it'll all turn out alright. Somewhere deep inside, beyond his shattered ribs, he knows it’ll turn out alright.

[mystery-star]

Old Wounds  – Ben Wade (Part 4 / 5)

Pairing: Ben Wade x fem!reader

Warnings: death

Words: 2968

Series Navigation:   Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

-

For the night, Matt had organized you something to sleep on so he could watch both you and the prisoner in his office. You still weren’t sure if it was a good idea since you were pretty sure the gang would come to free Ben but at least you weren’t alone. It wasn’t even midnight when you heard the door open. Everyone shot up but before something could be done, Charlie had already killed Matt. Pressing a fist to your mouth you tried to bite back a scream.

“Boss, are you alright?” he went over to the body and retrieved the keys, tossing them to the older man before he stepped to you “You again”

“Charlie” Ben said in a warning tone “Get away from her and leave her be. She’s got nothing to do with it”

“But you chose her” he grabbed you by the collar and pulled you up, taking out a knife. “I should kill her and the boy to make you remember what’s really important”

“If you hurt them, Charlie, I’ll kill you” again his voice was not more than a deep growl.

“Boss?” suddenly, his companion sounded mighty unsure.

“You know what I just remembered? Your first shooting lesson. How you held that gun in your hands, eager to shoot but no idea how. And you know it’s dangerous to just brandish a gun, not knowing how to use it properly. You were surprised there was a process to it. As if you needed to think and actually needed to want it. So I first asked if you really wanted this”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” even you were confused what Ben had but he continued unwaveringly.

“Well, since you agreed I told you that before shooting, you had to cock the gun. But wait, the more important step was to take aim. There is all the time in the world. You can bother about speed once you mastered the basics. In the beginning, aim is most important. To consider what you want to hit and only focus on that and your gun. To hold it firmly in both hands and take a step closer if you want. Might be better in the beginning ‘cause no one likes missing”

“Ben” Charlie seemed desperate “You never…”

“Once you had that, I told you that now you could cock it. By pulling back the hammer. No, not the trigger but the thing that looked like it, on top of the gun” from behind Charlie, there was a click “Good job” now you realized what had been going on. Ben wasn’t just reminiscing a shooting lesson with the other outlaw, if it had ever happened. No, he was instructing your son how to use a gun.

“Let my Mommy go” Ben had unlocked the cell door and came closer.

“Put the thing away, you stupid boy. You will hit your dear Mommy instead” you used his distraction and bit the hand that held the knife, making him growl in anger or pain. As he dropped the knife, he hit you across the face. A shot was heard and you heard Johnny utter a low curse and it sounded like he dropped the gun. Ben had taken Charlie’s own gun and held it against his chest

“Unless you want me to pull the trigger I suggest you let her go and get your limping ass out of here right now” after a second, you were released and not knowing if you could trust your legs, you just sat down right away. Your son hurried towards you, hugging you tight

“Are you hurt?” he asked

“I’m okay” you assured him, pressing him closer “are you okay too?”

“Yes. Did you see me shoot?”

“No but I heard it” you didn’t know if you liked that he had to shoot at someone.

“I hit his leg”

“That’s good” you said, relieved he hadn’t caused more damage, even if Charlie might have deserved it. When you looked up, you saw that he was getting out of the door and let out a sigh.

“You two okay?” Ben asked

“Yes” Johnny beamed and let go of you a little “Are you?” he chuckled

“’course I am” he picked up his gun, took Johnny’s hand, opened the cylinder and let something fall into his hand “Here. You might wanna keep this as a memory of your first shot. To save your mother” your son was looking at the bullet shell in his palm.

“Thank you” he said, carefully closing his hand “Ryan will never believe if I tell him this”

“Well, now you’ve got proof” he ruffled his hair

“I know. And Ryan said he only could shoot in the air. Then at a can. I shot an outlaw. Ha” suddenly he scrambled away from you “Am I cursed now? Because of your gun” Ben kneeled down in front of him and put the gun away

“Of course you’re not” he squeezed his shoulder

“How can you be sure?”

“I know it. It’s my gun after all. And you know, you’ve got to promise me something, young man”

“What?” he asked and Ben put his hands on both his arms.

“That you’ll take good care of your mother”

“Are you leaving?” Johnny asked

“Well, I can hardly stay here and wait ‘til they find me”

“Why did you want to stay this morning?”

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow, okay?” you promised. After what had happened, you only found it fair if Johnny heard the truth. And in a way you had planned to tell him anyways because he surely would have asked why Ben had wanted to stay during Charlie’s visit.

“Yeah” he agreed as Ben picked up his gun again and went to the box with his belongings on the table, getting properly dressed before returning to Johnny.

“You still haven’t made your promise. Will you take care of your Mommy?”

“Yes” he said “I promise”

“Good” he hesitated for a moment, then ruffled his hair again and patted his back. Next, he turned to you “And you take care of the little one”

“Of course I will” you pulled your son closer, noticing he was still holding the shell of the bullet tightly in his hand. You only looked back at Ben, when he took your own hand and placed something in it. A pouch with money.

“It ain’t much but it’s all I got with me” his hand came to your face “I’m sorry ‘bout your friend Matt. I know it all turned out differently than expected but I will come back to you. In a couple of weeks, when the furor died down”

“And then?” you asked

“We’ll see. First the both of us have to get back to full strength” you gave a nod and smiled when he pressed a small kiss to your cheek “Just don’t leave again without letting me know where to, yeah?”

-

Although you wanted nothing more than to lie back down and get some well-deserved sleep, you knew that you couldn’t. You had to report what had happened here, well at least that someone helped the prisoner escape and killed the sheriff. And while you had been clever enough to go and alarm Matt’s second deputy, Jake Gibson, he still had to fetch David Miller as well, who was again determined to make the interrogation a hell.

“So, you say your son shot the outlaw in the leg?”

“The blond one, Charlie. Not Ben Wade”

“Does your son even know how to use a gun?”

“He’s very quick learning and he once heard you take aim, pull back the hammer and shoot”

“And who taught him that?”

“What do I know? Maybe your own son. After all he’s always telling my son how you taught him how to shoot. Or maybe it was Matt”

“Speaking of Matt; why didn’t you try to help him after he got shot?”

“Well, I first was shocked because I just knew it was deadly. But before I could go and check up on him, I was grabbed by Charlie who threatened me with a knife, I told you that”

“Why would he not just shoot you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to make it painful?”

“For what?”

“I don’t know!” you said louder “Maybe he blames me for Ben’s arrest”

“Ben?” you pinched the bridge of your nose

“Look, I’m tired and I’m hurt. Can we please continue this tomorrow?”

“So you can think of excuses?”

“What excuses could I make? Do you think the sheriff shot himself, then Ben Wade shot his own man and they left together? Would that make more sense to you?”

“I just think it’s suspicious that last time this Charlie saw you to get Ben Wade he tried to kill you this time he leaves you alone”

“I told you he had me in his grip with a knife. Then, my son shot him in the leg and he let go of me after I bit him. Ben Wade got free and they left. He told his man to leave me alone because he still thinks that he owes me his life and it would be wrong to kill me”

“Your son shot his man. Don’t you think he would at least kill your son?”

“Do you really think that Ben Wade wanted or even encouraged my son to shoot is man? And look, I know you think because both my son and I are unharmed that we had something to do with Ben Wade escaping. But if we helped him, why would Johnny need to shoot Charlie?”

“To make it more plausible?”

“Alright” you said “I confess. After this Charlie was shot and Ben Wade got out of his cell and got back his stuff, I could have leapt at him and tried to stop him. But two grown outlaws, albeit hurt, are much stronger than a woman who just got shot and a five year old. And if I had attacked one of them, I’m not so sure Ben Wade would have let us live. So go on, arrest me for not interfering if you want. For thinking of my son first. For being a mother. I truly am sorry that Matt is dead. He was my best friend and I’m sorry too that the outlaws are gone and can hurt more people but you cannot blame me for also being glad that my son and I are alright!” you were quite glad that you had started crying in the middle of it. “I also wish Johnny wouldn’t have shot that man. I don’t want to think what it could do to him or that he once becomes an outlaw too. Or that he hates himself for it later on. But go on, arrest and imprison me for not doing something and let my son die in the streets because he’s got no one to take care of him”

“(Y/N) come on, relax” Gibson said “No one’s gonna arrest you. We all know Wade doesn’t stay in prison long. We should be glad he’s gone and that his stay here didn’t have more casualties”

“Yeah” Miller agreed “Alright” you let out a breath of relief

“Can Johnny and I go home now?”

-

Miller had done a thorough job of going through your stuff but made a bad one of not leaving a mess, so the following day you had to get rid of it, while Johnny was in school. He came home when you were lying down a bit because you had been in pain. Judging by how he threw his satchel in a corner you suggested he was angry again.

“Hey sweetheart” you called “what happened?” he came to your room

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just had to lie down while cleaning up. I was a bit tired”

“Because you got shot?”

“Yes and I didn’t sleep well” he nodded “Anyways, tell me who or what upset you”

“Ryan and I wanted to play right after school and he said I have to be the sheriff!”

“Hey that’s what you always wanted, right?”

“No” he said “I wanted to win. He said we played what happened yesterday. So he just shot me and said I was dead. Then I left”

“Come here, Johnny” you said and when he climbed onto the bed you sat up and hugged him.

“I’m sorry he never lets you win. But you know, people who always win have it easy in life and once they have an actual problem or when it really matters they won’t know what to do and will lose that one time. However, if you’re used to struggling, you know how to deal with things”

“Really?” he asked

“Of course. I mean look at us. We survived on our own. Remember how Regina had to leave when her husband died? Because she was not used to it and had to go home to get help”

“Yes. She was crying and people made fun of her. But you managed everything on your own. With me”

“Exactly”

“But Mommy… what would I do if you died? Would someone take care of me? Now that Matt is gone?”

“I’m sure someone will. I’ve always told Matt that if something happened to me, he would need to get you to your grandfather that he can take care of you” you didn’t even know if your father still was alive. And maybe now Ben would look after him. But you could hardly tell people that. “I now will tell someone else to take care of you. I’ll never leave you alone, okay? No matter what happens”

“Okay” he said

“Now” you said “Next time Ryan wants to play with you, you should insist that that if you play the incidents of yesterday again you want to play yourself. At least you get to shoot an outlaw then. Did you already tell him about that?”

“Of course I did. He called me a liar! He didn’t even believe when I showed him the shell”

“I think he’s jealous” you said “That his father didn’t show him to shoot in such an opportunity” you swallowed “Did you tell Ryan that Ben Wade taught you how to shoot?”

“No. I was scared he would laugh at me and not believe me. I said I saw him do it”

“Okay” you said. After all, if Ryan told his father that Ben had taught Johnny how to use a gun he would surely come to question you again why that had been. You cupped your son’s face “Please promise me that you won’t ever shoot someone for no reason. Only when you have to save yourself or someone close to you and there is no other way at all, okay?”

“Am I in trouble because I shot him?”

“Of course not. You just hurt him and there was nothing else to do to help me in that moment. Besides, he was an outlaw, he was wanted dead or alive”

“Do you mean no one would care if he died?”

“Well, I’m sure his friends would”

“But Ben Wade said he would kill him”

“I know” you said

“Why?” well now you had to tell him, you thought and took a deep sigh. You slightly let go of him so you could look at him better.

“There… is something you should now. It’s about Ben Wade. And me. I should have told you earlier, I suppose but I was scared”

“He is my Daddy, right?” he whispered and you almost got a shock

“What makes you think that?” you asked, trying to keep your voice as neutral as you could.

“You said Daddy was your patient once and you fell in love. Some days ago, you said Ben Wade was your patient before. Besides, I know Daddy’s drawings in your book. They’re like his. And he’s so nice to us. He showed me how to shoot! And you like him. You let him sleep in your bed. With you” you swallowed. Had it really been that obvious all the time? Did someone else suggest something?

“If he was your Daddy, would it bother you?” he was silent for a while

“No” he hugged you again “You were happy when he was here. Is it true?”

“Yes, Johnny” you said “He is your father” he gave a nod

“Does he know?”

“Ben? That you’re his son?” he nodded “Yes, I told him when he first saw you”

“Does he like me?”

“Of course he does. And he said he is looking forward to getting to know you better”

“Will he come back?”

“Yes”

“When?”

“In a couple of weeks”

“Can he stay with us forever?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. But we could go and live with him. Somewhere where they don’t want him”

“Is that why you wanted to leave? With him”

“Yes. But I never would have done it without asking you first”

“What if he had wanted you to come but not me?”

“I’d have thrown him out and told him to get lost because he either gets us both or none of us” when you tickled his side he giggled, hugging you tighter “When did you find out? Or suspect it?”

“What?”

“That he is your Daddy”

“Oh. Two days ago, when I looked in your old book”

“Why didn’t you say something? Or ask me back then?” he looked at you

“Because you said we don’t talk about my Daddy” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

“Oh sweetheart” you were unable to believe how he stuck to that rule even if he had always wanted to know immediately if his father came back “Thank you”

[sloanerisette]

Jyoumi Challenge 2021 Day #9: Nature

I’ve been wanting to add more of the DigiDestined in these various oneshots (as I’m sure y’all have been able to tell, but I still wanna make sure to keep the focus on Joe and Mimi, of course, so I hope I succeeded on both parts! I had fun writing this, so I hope you all enjoy!

---

“You’re sure you really want to go hiking? Even in this weather? By the time it reaches the afternoon it’ll probably be pretty hot and muggy out…” Joe said, hoping, despite the fact that they were already in a train and almost to their destination, the group of them could turn around.

“Yes! It’ll be so much fun! Just think about all the beautiful things we can see,” Mimi gushed, clasping her hands together under her chin, “Mount Mitake is supposed to be so beautiful this time of year, and I read this guide online that there’s always the chance we could see a whole ton of plants and flowers bloom at once!”

Despite how starry-eyed and enamored with the idea Mimi was, Joe still seemed unconvinced, cupping his hand on his chin with a furrowed brow. Sora laughed gently.

“We thought it would be a good idea to get you guys out a bit, too,” she said, “You’ve been so worried about your tests and entrance exams,” the orange-haired girl then looked to Matt, who sat next to her, “And you’ve been so stressed out over your band lately. You both could use some fresh air.”

“I don’t even remember the last time I was able to drag you out of your room. Your back must be killing you from hunching over your desk all night,” Mimi sighed. Joe pulled a face, while Matt couldn’t help but smirk at his friend, arms folded.

“Man, I thought you would know better by now than to try and argue against these two,” Matt said. Joe let out a weak laugh, shoulders slumped, bouncing in his seat slightly as the bus bumped along the road for a moment.

“I do, believe me. Argue with Mimi? Not a chance,” Joe nodded, “But… you know, I guess I’m testing my luck today.”

Mimi gently laid her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder, batting her eyelashes up at him.

“It’ll be fuuuuuuuuun! Getting out with some of our best friends, no books or studying or tests or stress? How is this not a perfect double date?” she asked.

“Well, I think a perfect date of anytime would consist of less walking and more food,” Joe deadpanned. Matt couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, Sora giggling after, too.

“Don’t worry, we made sure to check that there’s a few places to go to along the trail and nearby,” Sora said.

“There’s supposed to be some ryokans that have incredible food,” Mimi said. Joe instinctively wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to prevent any drooling that he was afraid might occur.

“Sound better now, man?” Matt asked.

“…Well, I’d still prefer less walking and more eating, but… I guess,” Joe sighed, resigned to his fate now. The bus slowly started to roll to a stop before pulling in front of the stop. With slight hesitation on his face, Joe pushed himself up after the other three were quick to hop up, letting Mimi link her arm in his as the group made their way to the start of the trail.

Met with the sign about the hiking trail to Mount Mitake and the Musashi Mitake shrine at the top, the four stood there as a few other people started on ahead. Joe looked down, checking his fanny pack to make sure he had all the supplies they’d need.

“Ok, I’ve got the mini first aid kit, some protein bars, hand sanitizer, a little bottle of sunscreen in case anyone needs extra, a compass…” he listed off in a mumble.

“The fanny pack? Really? I’m surprised you didn’t bring that ratty old duffel bag we had in the Digital World with us,” Matt said. Joe looked up at his friend with narrowed eyes.

“It would’ve been too much to carry on a trail like this, especially if I could’ve packed it as much as I wanted to,” he explained.

“Plus he looks good with the fanny pack!” Mimi exclaimed, causing Matt’s smirk to turn into a grin as Joe’s face turned a deep crimson.

“Now that you mention it, with the shorts…” Matt teased, before receiving an elbow in the side from Sora.

“I made sure to pack water and some extra snacks just in case we need it,” she interrupted, “We all ready?” she asked with a gentle smile.

“Ready,” Matt said simply.

“Ready!” Mimi cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

“…Ready as I’ll ever be,” Joe sighed. At that point, Mimi wasted no time in traipsing off to the trail. Joe’s eyes went wide and he immediately chased after her, nearly tripping over a rock in the process. Sora and Matt stood there for a moment, Sora giving Matt a side eye.

“…Are you sure this will be ok?” she asked. Matt shrugged lightly.

“It’ll be good for him. We’ve both needed to get out for a bit, like you said. Plus he can dote worry over Mimi for the afternoon, it’ll do them both some good,” he chuckled. Sora shook her head lightly.

“If you say so. C’mon,” she started, starting to walk off ahead, “We shouldn’t fall too far behind.” With his hands in his pockets, Matt started to leisurely walk along after her.

Twenty minutes into the hiking trail, the group had managed to stick together, a small river running along just a few feet away, where a few people had stopped to take pictures. Tall trees stretched far above them, blocking the harshest of the sun’s rays, while thick bushes and deep green foliage had managed to cover even the edges of the walking path.

Mimi took in a deep breath, exhaling a few moments after, “God, the air just feels so good here, don’t you think?” she asked.

“I can only imagine the difference in air quality between here and New York,” Joe mused, “Even between here and Tokyo.”

“Yeah, it just kind of feels fresher, doesn’t it?” Sora asked. “I was always happy when our tennis club would go out to somewhere like this for trips just because it was always so nice to get away and be somewhere like here.”

“I could maybe be convinced to come out here every so often. If I had someone to come along with,” Matt said, looking over to Sora and smiling.

“I’d be happy to come along if I could drag this one out of his room more!” Mimi said, waving Joe over to take a picture in front of some flowers.

“I’ll try my best,” he said, offering Mimi a small smile, the smile growing bigger as she readied her phone to take a picture of the two of them.

“Yuuuuup, putting that in the group chat once we have reception again!”

Matt and Sora had already moved on a bit ahead, hopping up onto a slick rock covered in moss.

“Be careful coming up, some of these seem a bit slippery!” Sora called to Joe and Mimi, who had been standing by the river, spending a bit of time watching a few of the birds who had flown along.

“We will!” Joe shouted as he waved to them.

“We’re gonna go on a bit ahead!” Matt said, “Don’t fall behind too much!”

Mimi shot him a thumbs up, which Matt and Sora returned, before going on ahead. Her and Joe stood there for a bit, admiring the world around them.

“Well, even if it is a double date, that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little alone time,” she whispered with a sly grin, turning her body and pushing onto her tip toes to place a kiss on Joe’s jaw. Joe whipped around, looking at the other people who were simply minding their own business on the trail.

“Come ooooooooon, no one is going to care if I kiss you! Plus its romantic, isn’t it?” she teased.

“Y-Yeah…” Joe choked out, ducking his head sheepishly. Mimi playfully rolled her eyes, then quickly grabbed his hand and started to run ahead, dragging Joe along with her.

“Mimi, wait! Don’t go so fast! You need to take it slow!” he shouted in panic as she started to hop up onto the stepping stones that their friends had made their way along just a few minutes earlier. Mimi let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Ok, ok, I’ll take it slow,” she said. She let go of his hand and slowly started to walk along the path, looking back at Joe every so often, as if teasing him about how slow she was purposefully going. However, on the third one, she had looked back at him while stepping up, misjudging her step and her foot slipped. She let out a yelp as she started to fall, only to be stopped near immediately as Joe wrapped his arms around her.

“Mimi!”

She was dazed for a few moments, blinking and looking around to get a bearing on her surroundings. She let out a squeak of surprise as Joe helped her sit on the stone that she had nearly fallen because of, crouching down next to her.

“You could’ve rolled your ankle, Mimi,” he sighed, carefully reaching out to touch her ankle. “Does it hurt?” She shook her head.

“No, I’m fine, honest,” she said, setting her feet down and standing up, stretching her arms into the air to show she was alright. Joe let out a soft sigh.

“Well, I’m glad. But let’s make sure we go together? I don’t want either of us to get hurt,” he said. Mimi nodded.

“Alright, ok, you’re right,” she said, offering her hand to help him up, “Let’s get going we shouldn’t keep Matt and Sora waiting too much longer.”

The two held hands as they started to walk, the sounds of nature surrounding them as they kept along on the trail. Even if he had been worried about his grades and tests (per usual), Joe couldn’t help but think that this was pretty nice. It had been a bit since he and Mimi were able to do much of anything together past late night texts or phone calls during lunch, and even if he wasn’t the biggest fan of hiking (and was surprised Mimi seemed to be so up to it considering how much they both hated it in the Digital World), it was actually pretty nice to be out where it was quiet, with no noise pollution and enough trees to cover up most of the heat from the sun, and to be able to walk hand in hand with Mimi.

“I wonder where they are… it’s been a while since we got up here and they weren’t that far behind, right?” Matt asked as he and Sora now stood at the entry to the Musashi Mitake shrine. Sora frowned as she leaned into Matt, watching a small group of people started to come into view— people who weren’t Joe and Mimi.

“Should we go look for them?” Sora asked.

“No, because then they might come up here while we’re down there and then we’ll just be doing this for hours,” he said.

Sora bit down on her lip, then sighed.

“I hope they’re ok.”

Matt stood silently, lips pursed, before he put his hands in his pockets, “They’ll be fine. Joe wouldn’t let anything happen to Mimi, and if something happened to Joe, Mimi would’ve demolished half that forest already,” he laughed. That was enough to get Sora to finally lighten up and chuckle a bit, though continuing to wait for their friends left her just a bit anxious still.

It took a bit, but soon enough they saw blue and brown hair peeking out from the path, smiling as they saw their friends approach.

“Mimi, Joe! You’re ok!” Sora called out, her and Matt running over to them. Both of their eyes went wide when they saw that Joe’s legs were covered in bright red rashes.

“Mostly ok,” Joe joked weakly as Mimi led him to a nearby beach.

“What happened?” Matt asked.

“Well, after you both left, Mimi and I were hanging out by where we were for a while before she almost sprained her ankle—”

“I didn’t almost sprain it, really. Joe made sure I was ok.”

“And then as we were coming up I stumbled into some poison ivy,” he winced.

“Definitely not as nice as Palmon’s attack,” Mimi sighed.

“Geez, I’m sorry Joe,” Sora frowned.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head, “No matter how much older I get, I don’t seem to get anymore graceful.”

“It’s looking pretty rough,” Matt grimaced, “You gonna be ok?”

“Yeah,” Joe nodded, offering them a smile in hopes of reassuring them, “I’ve got calamine lotion in the fanny pack,” he said, searching in it for a few moments, before pulling out a small tube, “I’ll start applying some and I should start feeling a bit better after a bit.”

“Sorry that the end of the hike wasn’t that great,” Sora frowned.

“I mean, it could’ve been better, but it wasn’t the worst,” Joe said, “The fresh air was actually pretty nice, and the company was great.”

His eyes shot towards Mimi, who was smiling and blushing.

“I wouldn’t mind going hiking again,” he continued, pausing for a beat, “…Though I’ll probably make sure to be careful and wear some long pants next time.”

“Well hey, good that you managed to find the bright side,” Matt smiled.

“Did you two have a good time?” Mimi asked.

“Yeah, it was nice to unwind, right?” Sora asked Matt.

“Definitely. I think we might need to get dragged on hiking trips more often, huh, Joe?” he asked with a teasing smirk. Joe nodded.

“Hey, as long as there’s less poison ivy and and the food at those ryokans are pretty good, I wouldn’t mind going on another one when I can take a Sunday off,” he smiled.

“Well just you wait! You said it, so I’m making sure you can’t go back on it now!” Mimi told him.

“Well are we ready to check out the shrine and then head back down to grab food?” Sora asked. Joe stopped laughing from his girlfriend’s comments near immediately, expression dropping in an instant.

“…Right. We have to hike back down.”

[hphmmatthewluther]

HPHM April Prompts 2021: Day 7: When Your Reflection Plots Against You (Part 3)

What is this, a crossover episode?

Okay, so funny story! The end to the story I’ve been doing recently and today’s prompt are about the same thing, so I sort of have to have them both be the thing for today because yeah! Part 1/3 Part 2/3

Anyway, onto...

Prompt 7: MC’s First Kiss

When Matthew finally came to, he had a pounding headache. He pushed himself up with the guitar case, getting back onto his face, before noticing the mirror. He wasn’t in it. Of course, Matthew thought, I’m the reflection now. He looked behind him, hoping to see where that light had come from. There was nothing. Apart from him, the bathroom was empty. Suddenly, he heard a door creak. On the other side of the mirror, in the real world, Charlie Weasley had walked in. Matthew moved towards the mirror.

“Charlie!” he tried, but to no avail, “Charlie!” 

But there was nothing. It was like he was a ghost. Actually, I’m less than a ghost now. He sighed, moving back towards the guitar case. With nothing else to do, he picked up the instrument and slung it onto his back, before leaving the boys’ toilets. It occurred to him that he needed to find Edwin before he did anything too embarrassing, or before he got to his friends.

It was bizarre to see the halls of Hogwarts empty, but with all the same buzz of people moving up and down. It was rather like there being a conversation happening in the other room, but you couldn’t for the life of you find that room. He tried to marshal his thoughts as to where Edwin would go with his body. The lake, obviously, he thought to himself. But something rather strange happened to this alternate Hogwarts as Matthew approached the school grounds. What should have been the quidditch lesson area and the whomping willow, and the Forbidden Forest, was instead an inky black void, with large tubes of light jutting into it from various windows. It was solid, and Matthew couldn’t pass through it. A good way away he could see the grass around the Black Lake.

“So I can’t go anywhere that isn’t reflected.” he deduced aloud. Matthew tried to relax his breathing. This was just another riddle, and he would have to solve it. And for that, he’d need to focus.

“Shut up, Barnaby!”

Matthew twisted around, noticing the images of Merula, Ismelda and Barnaby hanging in the air through a small shield-shaped window. A Prefect’s badge, Matthew thought before leaning in to take a closer look.

“What is it?” Barnaby asked quietly.

“I just...I thought I heard him...” Merula said, her violet eyes scanning the corridor.

“Who?” asked Ismelda, irritated at having to stop.

“Luther, of course!” she snapped. Matthew’s eyes widened. “He was saying something about reflections...”

“Yes, I’m over here!” Matthew yelled. He didn’t care how it had happened, he was just happy that it did.

Merula moved up and down the corridor. “Luther, where the hell are you?!”

Ismelda and Barnaby watched, both very much confused by all of this.

Matthew felt relief wash over him. “Merula, I’m-”

“I’m right here.” came his own voice. Coming into view from the side of the badge was Edwin, wearing his body.

“Oh, there you are.” she said stiffly. Matthew watched as Edwin flicked his braceletless hand at the badge, and he knew he had placed a Silencing Charm on it. Matthew could only pray Merula could sniff Edwin out.

“What’s got you so happy?” she asked with a scowl on her face.

“Oh, nothing really...” Edwin said absentmindedly. “Anyway, what did you want?”

“W-What did I want?” she asked incredulously. “You’re the one who called me over!”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” he said, shrugging. Matthew felt a surge of anger at him.

“Yes you did!” said Merula, exasperated.

Edwin cocked his head, then turned to the other two Slytherins, “Did either of you hear anything?”

“No, I didn’t.” said Ismelda.

“No, nothing.” said Barnaby. 

“Well, there you go.” Edwin concluded, “Maybe you’re hearing things.”

“I am not!” Merula yelled, going slightly red.

“Sure. Whatever.” he said, running a hand through Matthew’s hair, “So, you going down to the lake later?”

“W-What? No...” said Merula, confused. Barnaby, however, nodded.

“I am! It’s gonna be great fun!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t care.” Ismelda sneered.

“Mm, it’s just that everyone is going to be there. And I thought, seeing as you can’t go to Hogsmeade, you’d want to go to a party when you could.”

Matthew felt his heart break as he saw Merula’s expression. This wasn’t fair. Nobody treated his mortal enemy like this, especially not someone like Edwin.

“F-Fine, I’ll go.” Merula conceded. “C-Come on, you two.” They stepped into the inky void, Merula wearing an expression that Matthew knew all too well. Fear.

“You could have been a bit nicer, Matt.” came a voice. Matthew realised just which Prefect’s badge he was looking through. And Edwin had no idea.

“Oh...I guess I could.” he admitted, “But I got her to go to the party, and isn’t that what matters?”

“It does if she doesn’t actually want to go.” said Bill Weasley, “You of all people should know that.”

Edwin shrugged, before heading into the void too. Bill must have followed him, for the Prefect badge vanished too. He had to get to the lake quickly, and find Merula and tell her what was happening. From there, however, he was at a bit of a loss. Maybe if he got the book back and managed to reveal the ink, he could find a way to return to his body. That would explain why he didn’t want me to get the book back, he thought. But before all that, he had to actually get to the lake in the first place. He looked up at the tubes of light which splintered the void. Matthew grinned. He’d had an idea, and it wasn’t half bad. He headed up towards Ravenclaw tower at breakneck speed, avoiding the void that appeared in corridors with less mirrors. Eventually, he found his way up to the door to the Common Room. The Eagle knocker looked up at him.

“You are here, yet you are not here.” it said. “Curious. Now, I am at the start of every race, the end of every Bludger, and in the middle of Paris. What am I?”

Matthew thought for a moment, before smirking. “R.”

The eagle nodded, before the door opened.

“Hmm, that’s odd.” said Rowan,as Matthew came in. “ Wonder why the door’s opened...” Matthew sighed as he and the other Ravenclaws looked up and saw right through him.

“I’ll tell you when I get out, Rowan.” he said. There was no reaction. Matthew headed up to his dormitory, where he found his Cleansweep resting against his four-poster bed. He reached for it, hoping, and while his left hand went straight through it, his right hand gripped the wood, the silver bracelet’s carvings glowing as it happened. Matthew grinned, before looking back at the mirror. In it, he could see the Black Lake out the window. He also saw the Cleansweep floating in midair. This gave Matthew another idea. He crept back down to the Common Room, and saw the Ravenclaws’ expressions of pure shock at a floating broom.

“Hey, isn’t that Matthew’s Cleansweep?” said Andre. Matthew couldn’t help but grin as he twirled the broomstick in his hands, causing it to spin. Then, he started to back up into the boys’ dormitory. Rowan, Andre, Tulip and Talbott all followed it until they came to Matthew’s four poster bed. He used the broom to wave at the four, then tried to make a beckoning gesture. After that, he hopped on and flew out the window, leaving them flabbergasted as the pilotless broom headed towards the lake.

It was an odd sensation, flying down a thin strip of the Hogwarts grounds, going over a small fraction of the Whomping Willow, watching students blip in and out of existence. He sped down the hill until he was over the lake, when he noticed a large gathering of students reflected in the water near the shore. He saw that there was a table with food laid out before them. He slowly moved down a few yards away, landing his broom and resting it against a nearby tree. He couldn’t risk Edwin finding out he was here again. Matthew shook his head. He had hoped that third year would be a little less eventful than last year, though he should have known that this would be impossible. Rueing his bad luck, he headed towards the party, not registering four Ravenclaws show up behind him.

“I’m so glad you all made it!” he heard Penny cheer, as the party got underway. At least, it did in the waters of the Black Lake. Matthew, meanwhile, only had a few feet of ground to work with before it gave way to the void. He saw people enter and exit the darkness, until he finally saw Merula. He knew he couldn’t just talk to her, as much as he wanted to. No, he had to find another way. Then, it occurred to him that he had Edwin’s guitar on his back. He set it onto the floor and undid the zip on the leather, before pulling it open.

For an acoustic guitar, it was pretty impressive. It had several magical runes on the wood, and the strings were a brilliant blue, just like the ropes which had pulled him through the mirror. He silently thanked his father for being part of a band when he was younger and pulled out the guitar, putting the strap around his shoulder. Even from here, he could see Edwin moving everyone’s groups away from the lake, especially Merula’s. Matthew had been where she was several times before, feeling like everybody knew how to act at a party except for you. Matthew gritted his teeth,  moved towards the lake, both him and the guitar invisible, and started to play.

A A A A, D D, Em Em Em Em, D D…

***

Merula looked up, hearing the sounds of a guitar. It wasn’t a song she recognised, so she assumed it was some Muggle music. She could recognise the chords though. A A A A, D D, Em Em Em Em, D D… though she couldn’t see anyone playing. She walked through the students, ducking out of the way when she saw Matthew. He was talking with Chiara and Penny, but it didn’t look like how Matthew usually talked. Normally, he was reserved, quiet, a little hunched over. Not here. No, here it reminded her of some of the irritating sods in Preston’s gang. Merula scowled, before heading towards the music. Strangely enough, it seemed to be coming from inside the Lake… but that couldn’t be…

“Psst, Merula!”

She looked down into the water. There was her reflection, but next to it stood Matthew Luther, with a rune covered guitar.

“Don’t look at me!” he hissed, “Turn around and act like you don’t see me!”

Merula obeyed, turning on the spot. Secretly, she had been hoping for an explanation for his behaviour today; he had been amicable enough at first, but over the last few hours or so he had become rather cocky and boastful.

“Merula, that isn’t me.” he said, still playing the guitar, “That arse took my body!”

Her eyes widened. “He’s a changeling?!”

“If...if that’s what they’re called, yeah.”

Merula found it in her to smirk. “Really Luther, I forget how little you know about the Wizarding World.”

“It’s not my fault our Defence against the Dark Arts teachers have been rubbish.” he remarked.

“Eh, you’re not wrong there, they have been awful.” she admitted. “So how the hell did this happen?”

“Long story short: Some guy named Edwin appeared in the mirror saying he was trapped and needed help escaping.” Matthew explained, “I agreed, though I didn’t realise just how I’d be helping him.”

Merula stared at Edwin. Yes, she saw it now. It was like a Metamorphmagus had turned into him, or someone had used Polyjuice Potion. That’s why she’d felt so uncomfortable around him. Because it wasn’t Matthew. “So, how do we get him out?”

Matthew looked a little surprised. “Oh, I thought you’d suggest leaving me here.”

She laughed, genuinely, before shaking her head. “Luther, if I left you there this Edwin would have to be my rival. And I don’t like the sound of that at all. You’re my mortal enemy, Luther, and nobody gets to doom you for eternity except me.”

Matthew grinned through the water. “Thanks, Merula. Now, do you have anything reflective on you?” She shuffled through her pockets until she pulled out a silver comb.

“By the way, since when could you play guitar?” she asked, as Matthew appeared in the comb.

“Oh, my Dad taught me. I just know a few songs, though, not much.” he confessed.

“Alright...” began Merula, nervously moving towards the throng of students, “What do we do?”

“There’s a book in my bag called The Ramifications of Our Reflections.” Matthew explained, “It has some text in invisible ink that Edwin really didn’t want me to see, to our best bet is grabbing the book and finding out what it says.”

“Ah, so we’re stealing from him!” she declared quietly.

“Well, no, it’s my book!” Matthew yelled, before adding, “Well, it’s technically Snape’s, but he took it from me, so there.”

They neared the pile of everyone’s bags, and Merula bent down to grab hers, before manoeuvring towards Matthew’s satchel. Slowly, while eyeing the changeling, Merula bent down and grabbed the book, quickly placing it in her own bag. She took a sigh of relief, and quickly walked away.

“Now what?” she whispered, before seeing Ismelda.

“This party's boring. I’m heading back to the common room.” she declared.

“Good idea.” Merula said, walking with her. 

“Don’t worry, she can’t see me.” Matthew reassured her, “Now all we need to do is heat up the book and we can see the information.”

Merula nodded as they headed away from the party, but they were stopped on their way back by Edwin.

“Hey, wh-where you going?” he asked, his usual cocky demeanour in full swing.

“We’re leaving.” Merula declared, “This party is boring, and you shouldn’t have invited us.”

Edwin stared at her for a moment. “Is that so.” he said, not even trying to make it a question.

“Yeah...I’m leaving now...bye.” she said, heading off. Ismelda looked at her, then at Edwin.

“Wow, she really doesn’t like you.” she said, “What’d you do to her?”

“I would worry more about what I’m going to do.” Edwin growled.

“Merula...” Matthew began, “Get to my broom. It’s right by the lake.” When she looked at the comb, confused, Matthew just shouted “GO!” and that got her moving.

She sprinted back down the hill, where she saw the Cleansweep resting by a tree. She grabbed a hold of it and saw Edwin racing after her.

“Just wait a minute!” he yelled, as Merula kicked off the ground. Matthew quickly put the guitar onto his back as the ground fell beneath them, and soon they were soaring over the grounds once again.

“Now how’d she know the broom was there?” Rowan asked aloud. “Matthew, do you-”

“Curse them!” Edwin bellowed, heading off after her, wand in hand. Ismelda hissed.

“Oh no you don’t...” she muttered, running after him. Bill stood nearby, very much concerned.

“Something’s going on here...” he deduced, before joining the chase. Of course, Merula and Matthew had the advantage of having a broomstick, which allowed them to get to the other side of the school in very little time. They ended up on the second floor, just above the Great Hall.

“Nobody uses these toilets.” Merula explained, “Myrtle’s always kicking up a fuss.”

They headed into the girl’s bathroom, which was oddly quiet.

“That’s strange.” said Merula, “I wonder where she’s gone.” Matthew appeared in a mirror near the sink.

“That was close.” he admitted, looking on as Merula pulled Ramifications out of her satchel. “Now all we need to do is heat it up and we’ll be set. Be careful though, we don’t want to set it on fire.”

“Right.” Merula said, placing the book on the ground. Matthew moved closer, appearing in a puddle of water. “Incendio Parvus!” A small flame appeared on the tip of Merula’s wand, which she moved down towards the paper. “Hey, it’s working!” she said excitedly.

“Great! Find the part about freeing people from mirrors!” Matthew implored, placing down the guitar.

“Okay, okay...” she said, flicking through the pages.

“Um...Merula...” Matthew began, “Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“Hmph...it’s...I mean, it wasn’t you, was it? It was that changeling who was the arse.”

“I know, but I made the deal with him...” he lamented.

“Yeah, I know, but...” she paused, looking over at Matthew’s puddle. “Oh come on. He gave you what you wanted, right?”

Matthew considered this. “Yeah. I guess he did.”

Merula smirked again. “What’d you even ask for?”

Matthew suddenly looked nervous. “I...um, I just wanted advice. We’d had that argument yesterday, and so I was just...I didn’t want to make things worse every time I saw you, or anyone else.”

Merula frowned. “Th-That’s it?!”

“Yeah...that’s it.”

She looked at him through the water, before bursting into laughter. “What?” he asked, more confused than ever.

“Sorry, it’s just...” she paused to wipe her hair out of her face, “It’s weird how little you trust yourself. I mean, you make friends all the time. I’m the one who can’t make friends and can’t go to Hogsmeade.”

Matthew frowned at her. “You don’t have to talk about-”

“It’s alright.” she reassured him. “I-I just...it’s my aunt. She says I’m not doing well enough in Defence against the Dark Arts.”

“But that’s not fair, the teachers are total tw-”

“I know that.” said Merula, “But my aunt thinks that I need to revise more...and she’s my legal guardian...so...”

“Merula, I’m sorry. You know...if you wanted to, I could give you a hand with...you know, studying and stuff.”

“Is that so?” she said, flicking through the pages with her other hand. “I don’t know...we’re mortal enemies. I don’t know how I’d feel about- Ah ha!” she exclaimed suddenly, “Freeing those trapped in the Reflected Realm! Bingo!”

Matthew craned his neck to see, but to no avail. Merula seemed to notice. “Oh, right, sorry. If a wizard or witch has been trapped within the Reflected Realm, they must be freed by breaking the contract forged between them and a changeling. To do this, one must return to the mirror of entry, destroy the surface they made the deal with and recite the phrase “Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum.” From there, the changeling will return to the Reflected Realm once it touches any reflective surface.”

“Brilliant!” said Matthew, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Merula extinguished the flame. “Okay, okay! You remember the phrase, right?”

“Course. Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum.”

“Good. Where’d you make the deal?” she asked, packing the book away.

“The boy’s toilets. Sixth floor.” This caused Merula’s face to scrunch up.

“Look, it won’t be for long. Once I get to the mirror, we can leave right away and find Edwin.” he explained.

“...Fine. I’m gonna get you for this one day, Luther...”

“I hope you get the chance, Merula...I really do...”

A minute or two later, Merula had made her way to the sixth floor, and was standing right outside the boy’s toilets.

“C-Can’t I just wait outside?” she asked. Matthew nodded, before heading inside on his own, the guitar still on his back. He instantly came back out.

“I’m afraid you can’t, Merula.” he said nervously. Merula groaned, before poking her head into the room. Standing in the U-bend, in front of a large magical field, was the body of Matthew Luther, and the vile grin of Edwin.

“We meet again. I’m so glad I don’t have to hide from you anymore.” he said. Matthew sneaked into view on one of the nearby mirrors, glaring at the sphere.

“Listen to me, Edwin. I am the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts,” Merula announced, “,and unless you vacate my mortal enemy’s body this instant, I will rain hell upon you!”

Edwin stared for a moment, before bursting into maniacal laughter. “Ooh, that’s a good one! I see why Matthew likes you!”

“I’m getting to that mirror, Edwin,” declared Matthew, “And you won’t stop me.”

Edwin pointed Matthew’s wand at Merula. “I somehow doubt that. I haven’t had a wand of my own in so long, I-”

“You still don't!” Matthew butted in.

“Silence!” Edwin yelled, sending Charm after Charm at the various mirrors. Merula watched as Matthew tried to mouth his words, before opting for a simple hand gesture. Merula pointed her own wand at Edwin.

“Sorry, I don’t take orders from you.” she sneered. “Flipendo!”

A burst of magic shot out of her wand at Edwin, who quickly moved out of the way, before yelling “Incendio!”, causing fire to leap towards Merula. She moved quickly out of the way, before pointing her wand back at Edwin, but he was faster. “Petrificus Totalus!” he shouted, sending a wave of paralysis at Merula, who felt herself fall to the ground. Matthew leapt towards the field of magic. He stepped through it, ending up on the other side with relative ease. Oh, the joys of the Reflected Realm, he thought to himself before reaching the mirror. Now he had to destroy it. He loosened his silver bracelet until it became a sort of fisticuff around his hand, and pulled back his arm.

“No!” roared Edwin, pointing Matthew’s own wand at him. “CRU-”

“Expelliarmus!”

Matthew’s wand flew out of Edwin’s hand over to the other side. Into the room came Rowan, Bill and Ismelda. But it wasn’t them that fired that disarming spell. It was Merula.

“It’s funny.” she said, “I never bought into that ‘wand chooses the wizard’ crap. But I think it well and truly has this time...changeling. Now, Luther!” she yelled, as the three newcomers looked around confused. Matthew took the bracelet and bashed it into the mirror. There wasn’t a scratch on the silver, but the mirror cracked into a thousand pieces.

“Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum!” he recited, as the several shards of the mirror began to glow. Blue ropes appeared between Matthew and Edwin, which snapped in two with a loud twang. Rowan pointed at the mirror. 

“Matt! What are you doing in a mirror? With a guitar?” they asked, flabbergasted.

Edwin glared daggers at his double. “Matt...my guy Matt...” he snarled, wiping the hair out of his face. “If you think getting that mirror broken was difficult, you’ll have one hell of a time putting me back-”

“Glacius Maledictus!” Matthew yelled, having picked up his wand. His bracelet glowing, ice began to coat the floor of the toilets. Perfect Ice.

Edwin looked down at his blue reflection. Matthew looked back up at him.

“...It’s a fair cop.” Edwin admitted. He looked at Merula. “A very fair cop...You know what Matt, I’ve changed my mind about you. You’re no coward. You just needed a push is all. And here I am to give it to you.” he stepped forward to Merula, grinning. “It’s been fun. You’ll thank me later.” Edwin leaned forward. There was a great flash of light, and Matthew was pulled up from the ice and into the motion. When he opened his eyes, his lips were on Merula’s. Rowan audibly gasped. Ismelda actually stopped picking her nails. Bill took a deep breath, knowing what was about to come next.

“Uuurgh!” They both said, disconnecting instantly, Matthew bringing a hand from behind Merula and her placing her feet firmly back on the ground. They both, however, couldn’t hide their very red faces.

“Oh, that bastard!” Matthew groaned, wiping his mouth.

“Yuck, yuck, yuck!” said Merula, spitting onto the ground. Suddenly, they heard his laugh. Rowan pointed downwards. Inside the glass was a boy in denim and a flannel shirt, scowling.

“I was just the first of the monsters of the mirrors.” he announced, “There’ll be more, trust me! And when they get out, they’ll-” “Incendio.”

There was a horrifying screech as the ice suddenly melted, until the bathroom floor was covered in water. Then there was silence. Ismelda smiled, before placing her wand back into her pocket. “That’s for messing with my friends.” she droned, before turning to Matthew. She looked at him for a moment, before slapping him across the face. “And that’s for kissing Merula.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Matthew said, rubbing his cheek, which was red for a completely different reason to Ismelda. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two figures appear in the mirror for a moment, nod, then vanish.

“Ok, now can someone please explain what’s going on?” Bill asked.

“I can try.” said Matthew, stretching his jaw. Merula was still a bright pink, and was still wiping her mouth. “Was I really that bad?” he snickered.

“It was...just a surprise, Luther.” Merula said stiffly. “Don’t worry. I won’t slap you. Just don’t get any ideas.”

Rowan looked at them all, aghast. “Sorry, but are we overlooking the fact that Ismelda just killed a man?!”

***

“So, in summary...” said Dumbledore, sitting at his desk, “It’s been quite an eventful day or two for you, hasn’t it?”

Matthew nodded rapidly. They were all now in the Headmaster’s Office, along with Professors Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick.

“I am just glad that you are okay, Matthew.” squeaked the smallest wizard. “Changelings are very dangerous forces of nature.”

“I would like to remind Mr Luther,” sneered Snape, “That the next time he sees something unusual in the mirror, he is to come straight to a Head of House...and that goes for all of you, too.”

The students all nodded. “Well, if that’s everything,” said McGonagall, “I do believe you will all need sleep after a long day like this.”

“Minerva is correct.” said Dumbledore, “Though, if you have any questions or concerns...”

“Actually...” said Merula, “There’s one thing I still don’t understand. Why was I the only person who could see Matthew in the Reflected Realm?”

Dumbledore smiled. “Now that is a very interesting stroke of luck. You see, a very powerful Artifact of Protection can sometimes lend its protection to others around them. It is likely that Matthew’s bracelet,” he explained, leaning towards the boy, “Has seen your connection as the closest, and has decided to protect both of you. And perhaps, more. I imagine Mr Khanna was unable to find Edwin while he was in Matthew’s body for a reason.”

“So...what does that mean?” asked Merula

“It means you, Matthew, are Merula’s Artifactidal Guardian.” he declared. Matthew looked down at his bracelet. Was that why he gave it to him?

“Hang on...how much of a guardian?”

Dumbledore’s eye twinkled knowingly. “Enough of one, Matthew.” he said.

Merula looked at him, turning a little pink still. “What does- What do you-” But Matthew understood. He pulled out the sheet that the riddle was written on, as well as his pen, and began to scribble on the back of the parchment. Then, he gave it to Merula. She read it. Her jaw dropped.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I Matthew Luther, Artifactidal Guardian of Merula Snyde, hereby give her permission to visit Hogsmeade.

Merula passed the letter to Dumbledore in silence, who read it and nodded. “Very well. Now, off to bed, chop chop.”

As they all walked down the stairs, Matthew felt Merula grab his shoulder.

“Thi-” she stammered, “Th-Thank you, Matthew. I don’t… You know, I-”

“Don’t worry about it, please.” Matthew said, smiling. “This changes nothing. You and I can still be mortal enemies.”

Merula grinned. “Gotcha.” she said, smiling. “Also...um...that was my first kiss.”

Matthew nodded. “Oh. Um...mine too.” He could see something flicker over her expression after that.

“Oh...well, I’m going to say it was with you, because if I don’t it would have been with Edwin, which is even worse.”

“Yeah, I understand.” Matthew said, a smile forcing its way onto his red face. “Well...there’s another Hogsmeade trip tomorrow...see you then...”

“Y-Yeah...see you then.” Merula said, before marching off. It took only a few days for them to get back to their usual bickering selves, but people noticed that for some reason they never argued and never insulted each other when they were in Hogsmeade. The few who knew why kept that secret close to their chests.

[loudblonde]

Mafias’ bitch [Bucky x Male!Reader] ((part one))

Warning: suggested abuse, angst, suggested murder, needles, and eyeballs.

(Y/N) couldn’t see a thing, everything was just pitch black. He tried to move but felt ropes tighten around his arms. He stopped moving and felt the rope settle around his arms. “You bastard!” (Y/N) yelled, thinking it was his ex who had trapped him there.

“I will not be a slave to your every whim, even if you keep me locked up here!” He yelled out and moved forward, it had been a bad decision. The ropes tightened further around his arms and pulled him back. “I’m not scared of your family or your money!” (Y/N) felt his chair tip back by the sheer pull from the rope.

He landed harshly and hit his skull against the concrete floor. A grunt came from him as he tried to move, though lights were turned on, it blinded him. The pain from hitting his floor combined with being blinded by light erased all hope of survival.

(Y/N) felt someone help him up, their hands almost gentle with him, one warm and the other oddly cold. However, in his delirious and frightened state, he managed to break free and tip the chair away from whoever had helped him up, (Y/N) kicked the chair towards them as he tried to get away, the rope further tightened around his arms. It felt as though the rope would break his arms at any moment, it tore down into his flesh but (Y/N) was too high on adrenaline to even feel it.

Steve watched from the stairs as this unfolded, to say he was surprised was an understatement. Bucky looked helplessly up at Steve, almost begging to be helped. He reminded Steve of a puppy. Steve went down to the boy and cut the restraints, he immediately got punched in the face as a result.

(Y/N) slowly regained his vision, not that it was worth anything, his entire world was blurry. “Get the fuck away from me.” (Y/N) growled as he backed into the wall, he felt his arms sting and looked down onto them, red lines cut across his flesh, he knew fully they were wounds.

Steve looked to Bucky confused. “I thought your client said this would be an easy target?” Steve questioned, it got (Y/N)’s attention.

“What client?” He demanded.

They both looked towards the squinting man. “The Hamilton family’s youngest-“ Bucky was caught off by a groan. (Y/N) felt himself get weaker. He had to get away from there. If he could just focus… The man had spoken, but nothing seemed to register.

“Kid?” Steve moved forward, (Y/N) took this as a chance to kick towards the other, however, Steve caught his foot with ease.

“You are clearly hurt, please allow me to help you,” Steve said as (Y/N) struggled against his hold, tiring himself out even more.

“Bullshit!“ (Y/N) felt the exhaustion set in, “No one helps someone…” He blinked, trying to keep himself awake, fear for what would happen if he fell unconscious plagued his mind.

He felt two strong arms lift him up bridal style, the young man was too tired to even fight back, yet he tried. His hand grabbed the jacket of the other, “If you kill me, at least tell the bastard I fought until I died.” Steve looked towards Bucky confused, what the fuck had Bucky brought in?

“Sorry Steve, I didn’t know he would put up such a fight,” Bucky looked around the room as Steve walked upstairs. “Can we keep him? The client wants a young man, this one is a fighter. I can easily find another.” Bucky followed up.

A small sigh came from Steve as he carried the young man into the medical room. Doctor Banner was already there. “If he wants to stay… maybe. I will not promise anything.” Steve looked back at Bucky with a warning glance.

“Both of you, out of my room. I will tell you when he is ready to talk.” Bruce pushed Steve out and shut the door, had it been anyone else Steve would have been angry, but he knew not to anger the doctor. The other side of the doctor was… less desirable.

Two days had gone by, Bucky knew the police wasn’t searching. All the targets he got was those who wouldn’t be missed. Bucky didn’t know if it was a result of his training or past. He had lost all memories that weren’t from after meeting Steve. Small glimpses of his childhood were there but other than that… nothing.

The doors to the infirmary opened op. Bruce walked out looking tired. He took of his glasses and started cleaning them, a habit he had gotten when stressed.

“He is ready, just be careful. He can’t see much.” Bruce said as he walked away. Bucky was on his feet in a second, he walked into the room only to see (Y/N) on the bed. Somehow managing to look strong.

“Why did you take me? Soldier, what does Rumlow want from me?” The question took Bucky by surprise. He stopped walking as he starred at (Y/N) confused. “How do I know it's you? The way you walk. Long legs and the boots, always the same brand of boots. Heavier towards the back, you have a slight limp too, from the time you were shot in the hip.”

(Y/N) sat up and looked towards Bucky’s direction. “I can’t see a damn thing, so I remember the way people walk. Yours haven’t changed in four years.”

Bucky walked over, now conscious about his walk. “I don’t remember you…” He looked at the others face, desperate to have some recall of his past.

(Y/N) looked at Bucky. The blurry mess of a man he once knew. No, this was someone different. “You don’t remember?” He asked, unsure as to the extent.

Bucky shook his head, but when he saw (Y/N) didn’t see it he quickly answered. “No, I don’t. I was injured. When I woke up there was nothing.” Bucky said as he averted his eyes.

(Y/N) reached over and grabbed Bucky’s metal arm, “Can you feel that?”

“No,” Bucky said as he looked down at (Y/N).

A small smile came onto the others face as he softly pressed the space between the thumb and other fingers. It was as though Bucky’s arm woke up. He could feel the way (Y/N)’s soft hands touched his wrist and palm. How the air moved around it.

“Come on soldier, you wouldn’t wanna keep me waiting!” A burst of cheerful laughter could be heard across the farm. Bucky ran outside, equally smiling, and happy. Being tasked to keep his boss’s boy toy safe was the best job ever.

Bucky ran over to the other and picked him up. He spun (Y/N) around before putting him down. (Y/N) looked up at his face, “I love you.”

Bucky shook his head at the memory. He was distraught. That memory couldn’t be real. What was happening?!

Bucky pulled his arm away just as Steve walked in. (Y/N) heard the steps but didn’t care. “Soldier, Bucky,” Steve looked worryingly between them, something told him to not step in, “listen to my voice and calm down.”

Bucky shook his head. “N-no!” He yelled out loud. (Y/N) walked over and placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulders, he sang a soft song.

Bucky smiled as he heard (Y/N) sing in the kitchen, “What are you making doll?” He asked as he entered the kitchen.

“A surprise for later, either close your eyes or sit out in the hallway.” (Y/N) pointed a spoon at Bucky. He simply held his hands up as he walked back into the hallway.

“You know me, even if you don’t remember it and if you do… then I forgive you.” (Y/N) said as the song ended. Bucky felt tears come to his eyes. Without even realising he was doing it, he hugged (Y/N).

(Y/N) hugged back. His hands grabbing onto Bucky’s shirt. He rested his head on the taller man’s shoulders. Steve felt as though he had invaded their privacy, he was happy that Bucky had found someone from his past, but this reaction. Steve wasn’t sure if Bucky’s past was worth digging up, he worried for his friend.

They pulled away from each other, (Y/N) reached up and cupped Bucky’s cheeks. “Steve, what are you… right.” Bucky looked from (Y/N) to Steve. (Y/N) walked over to the bed and sat down, Bucky had to stop himself from following.

“I came to check up on Mister (Y/L/N), though apparently you two know each other,” Steve said as he fully walked back in. “Why didn’t you recognise Bucky before?”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Maybe because I thought fucking Rumlow had taken me or one of his men. Maybe because I was so fucking scared that I was fully ready to die escaping. Just so that bastard couldn’t control me any longer.” (Y/N), not aware of the fact Steve was the boss, spoke his mind, fully letting his anger see the light of day.

He wasn’t scared of Steve, not even of Rumlow, okay, maybe he was scared of Rumlow... He was definitely scared of Rumlow.

Bucky whistled. “Doll, Steve runs this whole family,” Bucky said, not recognising the fact he used the nickname.

(Y/N) didn’t waste a single second in shrugging. “I’m 89% sure he was the one to carry me up. The fact I’m not dead even though I most likely decked him…” (Y/N) looked towards Steve for confirmation.

Steve was caught off guard by (Y/N). “I… He is right. What were your ties with the Hamilton family again?”

(Y/N) was still on edge, however, having Bucky near him was calming. “I was the boy toy to Rumlow, he showered me in money as long as I would just suck his cock whenever he wanted it, get fucked whenever he wanted it and be that pretty little thing he took with him everywhere.” (Y/N) shrugged.

‘I just so happened to reveal all their business information to ten outsiders, causing massive losses…’ (Y/N) thought to himself.

“Why can’t you see?” Bucky asked, “The memories… you could see me there.”

(Y/N)’s breath hitched in his throat; the night played over in his mind. “I was caught… with someone.” That wasn’t a lie. “Who I had grown to love. Rumlow took us both towards the outskirts of the city before he killed the person. Or so I thought… He injected something into my eye…”

“I’m sorry about that.” Steve shook his head.

“It’s fine, I went underground after that, Rumlow has a lot of… enemies. I provided slightly useful information and they kept me safe… Managed to get a job in hells kitchen. At a law firm there. Then… Bucky picked me up. How many days have I been here?” Suddenly (Y/N) got worried, he knew fully what Matt could do.

(Y/N) moved towards the edge of the bed again, he stumbled out of it. “I need to call him if he thinks I’m dead.” (Y/N) pleaded. Bucky pulled out his phone.

“Who is he?” Steve asked, worried for the safety of his people.

“Matt Murdock. The blind lawyer from hells kitchen.” (Y/N) shook his head. “He gave me the job. He helped me get used to living without being able to see much. He’s like a brother to me.” (Y/N) felt Bucky’s hand on his shoulder.

“Doll-“ Steve raised his eyebrow at that, “What is the number?”

(Y/N) told Bucky what to write before they called. Both Steve and Bucky left the room. It rang twice before anyone picked up.

“Matt?” (Y/N) asked, his voice cracked slightly.

“(Y/N)?!” It was from Karen. (Y/N) smiled as he heard her voice. He heard the worry in her voice.

“I’m alive. Where is Matt?”

The phone was taken from Karen, Matt was there. “Are you okay?” Matt asked concern laced within his voice, he had made no attempt at hiding it.

“I’m fine… mostly. I’m with someone I trust… just got injured.” Matt knew (Y/N) well enough to know the situation was bad.

“Is it your ex?” Matt asked, more than ready to beat up Rumlow.

“No, no. I promise it’s really nothing. Just a ghost. I will be back home soon… hopefully.” (Y/N) smiled at that.

“Three days and I will look for you,” Matt said. (Y/N) smiled at that, it truly felt as though he had a caring older brother. Other times Matt would annoy him… yeah, they really did have a sibling-like bond. Both fucked up, for sure. But they had each other.

“I have to go, be safe Matt.” (Y/N) hung up and walked over to the doorway. “Thank you, Bucky.” (Y/N) held the phone out in front of himself, the dimly lit hallway made it pretty much impossible for him to see.

Bucky gently took the phone, spooking (Y/N) in the progress. “Sorry doll,” Bucky said again, still not realising he had used that very same nickname.

(Y/N) bit his lip but didn’t say anything about it. “I’m not a security threat, am I free to leave?” (Y/N) asked.

Steve looked at Bucky for conformation. Bucky, on the other hand, wanted to know more about (Y/N), know more about this mysterious man from his past, he felt drawn towards him. That had been the reason he even took him in the first place.

As Bucky didn’t answer or make any confirmation, Steve decided on the best option at hand. “Yes, you can leave. But I will place Bucky as a guard around you until we know for sure that you won’t tell anyone or be in danger.” Steve said, Bucky and (Y/N) gave him the same panicked look, both not even noticing the other did the same.

“And that’s final. Bucky pack up for a weeks’ worth of travel. Fill me in every three days.” Steve left the two of them. He shook his head as he walked away. He knew (Y/N) somehow loved his childhood friend and by the look of it, Bucky had loved (Y/N) too. The stories lined up.

Bucky had been found in the other edges of his territory, shot in the head. Bruce miraculously managed to save him. Though Bucky had lost all memory from anything before. Steve had gotten his childhood friend back, but at what cost?

(Y/N) was now fully panicked. "I only have one bed!" And a small one-bedroom apartment.

[aion-rsa]

Why Wasn’t T.K. The Leader of Digimon Season 2?

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

To this day the second season of Digimon, known as Digimon Adventure 02 in Japan, is divisive. Some love how it expanded the world of Digimon and gave us a look into how the original characters aged up. Others aren’t fans of how the series handled its overall plot and that the new characters couldn’t hold up to the originals. The new character that received the most criticism was Davis, the new leader of the team. He’s loud, obnoxious, spends way too much time trying to hit on Kari, and generally just makes a fool of himself. Why is this guy the new leader? Why would Tai give HIM the goggles, the de facto sign of a Digimon leader?

Why wasn’t T.K. the leader? After all, he had more experience with the Digimon since he was part of the original team in season one. He was much more relaxed, personable, and able to take on problems intelligently instead of stumbling into them face first. On the flipside he did have a dark serious streak thanks to the trauma of his previous adventures but that just adds to the cool factor a leader needs, right? Also his Digimon, Patamon, could digivolve into Angemon and then MagnaAngemon, two of the most powerful Digimon of their levels.

So this leads us to wonder, what would the adventures of Digimon season 2 been like if T.K. was the leader instead of Davis? Right off the bat you would have had that sweet undercurrent of ANGST with T.K. in the lead role. While usually pretty even keeled, T.K. had a few moments in season two as aired where his experience with darkness from season one overwhelmed him. These moments, such as when T.K. faced off against BlackWarGreymon which exposed his trauma relating to Devimon. would have had a bigger impact on the show if T.K. was the leader. Especially when it comes to Ken/The Digimon Emperor.

In the original season two Ken and Davis were somewhat rivals and eventually put aside their pasts and became the two leads of the series, akin to Tai and Matt from the first season. As fun as it was to see the hot-headed Davis take on the cool but evil Ken, making T.K. Ken’s rival would have led to a mountain of possibilities. As mentioned above, T.K. was scarred by darkness. He, a small child, watched his Digimon effectively get killed by Devimon. This led to T.K. burying his darker impulses and pushing up his kinder side. Pitting that against Ken, a boy wracked with his own childhood trauma and guilt, could have kept the season going all on its own.

T.K., desperately trying not to dip into the darkness that’s haunted him for so long, and Ken, who wholeheartedly embraced the darkness to escape his pain. Watching T.K. hate Ken at first but, thanks to bonding over their shared trauma, pull Ken out of the darkness? That makes way more sense than Ken having to share so much screen time with Davis. Plus, then we’d get to see what DNA Digivolution of Stingmon and Angemon would have been. A bug and an angel? The possibilities for great combos are endless!

This angst and backstory could have also been utilized in Digimon: The Movie. The new character in the third part of the film, Willis, had his own angst about creating a Digimon that was hurting people. T.K.’s past with evil Digimon could have helped the two bond, with T.K. knowing what it was like to lose a Digimon of his own along with seeing what happened to Tai when Agumon turned into SkullGreymon. At the very least, T.K. crying at Willis’ story would have made far more narrative sense then Davis’ crying spree in the film as is. T.K. being the leader would have made Digimon: The Movie somehow even more flawless than it already is!

More screen time for T.K. in the central role could also mean more screen time for Kari! While you’d wish Kari could have gotten more screen time simply because she was a great character, the show frequently paired her and T.K. up. With T.K. now the leader Kari would at least get more time to shine alongside him. Which could mean that Kari’s connection to the Dark Ocean, famously unexplained and left open in the original season two, would have had a chance to play out over more than one episode.

T.K. also would have been the one to receive the Digi-Egg of Friendship, which feels far more appropriate than Davis getting it. After all, the Crest of Friendship belonged to his brother Matt so T.K. using it to power up Patamon would have had extra weight in the story. This also means Matt could have shown up more and who doesn’t love the idea of getting more of Matt, his fabulous hair, and his band who needed more than one song.

With all this new focus on T.K. that doesn’t mean Davis wouldn’t exist in this new version of season two. He would, but he’d be regulated to the comedic sidekick role. This would make his over the top actions much easier to stomach since they wouldn’t have happened with such frequency. His attempts to hit on Kari also would be downplayed; T.K. and her more clearly set up as a couple just waiting to happen (although, again, Kari deserves more stories on her own.)

Perhaps most importantly, the audience would have been warmer to the show. Despite carrying over much of the cast of season one, season two of Digimon is still a big shift with the three new leads getting a lot of screen time in the early episodes. This may have caused some fans to tune out, not enjoying the big shift in the status quo. If T.K. had been set up as leader from the start, perhaps the audience would have been willing to stick around; a familiar face guiding them through this new story.

With T.K. smoothing over the transition and adding numerous chances for powerful stories, Digimon season two as a whole could have been much stronger than what we got. On the other hand, maybe it would have been all the same and T.K. would have suddenly turned into the very Shonen protagonist that Davis was clearly modeled after. T.K.’s personality could have made an about face and he’d be annoying and loud, explained away as new traits he picked up over the years between the seasons. If you thought fans didn’t like Davis, imagine the reaction to T.K. acting like Davis did!

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No matter which way you look at it, Digimon season two would have been a radically different series with T.K. as the lead. More angst, more connections to the past, and more focus on Kari along the way.  Does this mean it would have been better than the season two we got? That’s up to the individual person but we can say for certain that goggles would have looked way better on T.K. than that bucket hat he had in season two. Come on, man. Get your fashion game together! Bucket hats are a fad, goggles are forever!

The post Why Wasn’t T.K. The Leader of Digimon Season 2? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3xgPYiy

[boat-dock]

chapter 4 of my Hosie fic

a little angst, a little tension, and a lot of Hope worrying 

Hope was standing on the far side of the room so there was a bed between her and the twins. As much as she wanted to be alone right now she needed to know that they were ok after everything that happened. 

Josie’s eyes light up when she saw Hope and she opened her mouth to speak but Hope beat her to it,” are you ok?” trying to stop her voice from shaking. 

“Are we ok?” Lizzie gaped,” what about you Hope you actually died,” they both moved toward but she backed away. She couldn’t trust herself not around them, not around anyone. It would get better with time, she would learn control, but right now she was an unstable baby vamp. Caroline had called her family and they would be here tomorrow night to bring her home, just for a little while, till she got used to her new situation. It had been far too long since she’s seen her family or just been back to New Orleans, so maybe this would be for the best. She would miss her friends and this school but she’d come back. 

“Of course I’m ok.  We all knew this was coming,” she replied motioning to herself to emphasize her point. Her becoming a vampire was inevitable it was literally in her blood. “ I mean it’s strange and different but I’ll get used to it.” 

“Of course you’ll get used to it,” Josie stated,” but that’s not what we asked. We asked if you’re ok now.” Hope couldn’t help the small grin that appeared on her face. It was nice to have friends who cared enough to check on her even when she pushed them away. She’s been trying to work on the pushing people away thing but change is never easy. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it but I willing to listen if you guys need to talk about anything.” 

“We don’t really want to talk either,” Lizzie answered,” which is why we have barricaded ourselves in your room because no one in their right mind would bust down your door to get to us tonight.” she wasn’t wrong, everyone had left pretty quickly as soon as Hope told them too. People were always afraid to come into her room, Hope was used to that, what she wasn’t used to was people using it as a sanctuary. 

Hope walked swiftly to her dresser and pulled out two pairs of pajamas,” you’re always welcome here,” she said as she tossed them to the twins. Hope turned her back as they changed, doing her best to give them privacy. 

When they were dressed Hope noticed the cut on Lizzie’s head,” Hey Liz, that cut on your head do you want me to heal it?” she’s seen her aunt Freya use a simple healing spell for things just like this before. 

“ Thanks but no thanks, I’m steering clear of vampire blood at the moment.” 

“ No blood,” Hope says,” just a spell. At that, Lizzie nodded her head and Hope moved in to do the spell. It should have been a basic spell, one she’d been doing since she was 10, not that it was taught at school, but then the blood hit her. It was barely there and dried but the smell still caused Hope’s fangs to slide out. She stumbled back as she felt the veins crawling down her face. “ Never mind,” was all she could choke out, hoping the twins wouldn’t notice. 

Of course, they did.” Are you alright?” Josie asked in a soft voice, pushing her dark hair out of her face. 

Before she could respond Lizzie cut in,” this could be good practice. Come try again Hope this time focus on the magic, not the blood,”  she was right, Hope could do this, it was a simple spell and her magic was begging to be used right now. She placed her hand on Lizzie’s forehead over the gash. Focus on the Magic, not the blood she repeated to herself. With the amount of magic Hope has, magic always came easy, most of the time she didn’t even need to speak, she could just will the magic to do what she needed. That’s what she was doing now, she pushed her magic out with a low hum in the back of her throat and focused on the magic flowing out of her. 

“Wow,” Lizzie breathed, examining her newly healed head in the mirror,” you have to teach me that.” 

Hope put distance between herself and the twins, by moving to her window seat on the other side of the room. “ you guys take the bed I’ll sleep over here.”

 “What no, we aren’t kicking you out of your bed,” Josie said shocked that Hope would even suggest that, “ it’s not like we haven’t all shared a bed before.”

“Yes but as you saw earlier I don’t have the best control right now.” Hope tried to keep her voice light, so they could move on from all this. Josie wasn’t thinking the same thing. She was next to Hope on the window seat in seconds,” Hope you have more self-control than anyone I know. With the amount of power that you have the fact that you don’t lose it every single day is amazing. That being said,” Josie rolled up her sleeve and held out her wrist to Hope,” drink,”

 “No way,” Hope said leaning away from Josie,” no way, am I feeding on you. Your parents would kill me.” 

“My parents will never know and I trust you, Hope.” she gulped as Josie held her eyes, once again pushing her exposed wrist toward her.

“And if anything goes wrong,” Lizzie started.

“Which it won’t,” Josie interrupted.“

Of course it won’t, but if it does I’ll be right here to stop it.” this was not happening, this could not happen. “It’s practice Hope just like the spell, once you know you’re in control you’ll be able to relax,” 

Hope’s eyes were wide with fear as her fangs slipped out. This was a bad idea, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from biting Josie’s wrist. All thoughts left her mind and all she could think about was the blood. The hunger was overwhelming and unending, there was no way anything in the world could be this good. Hope was bordering on euphoria.

 Josie’s words cut through her trance,” that’s enough Hope,” she dug her teeth in deeper, ” Hope,” she ground out

. Hope pulled back and sucked in a deep breath to settle herself, Josie pulled her hand away and applied pressure to stop the bleeding. When Hope’s breathing returned to normal and her eyes looked human again Josie placed her hand on her shoulder,” Good job Hope, I knew you could do it,” they locked eyes again for a moment and all Hope could here was Josie’s heartbeat.

 “Can we go to bed now, it’s been a crazy few months and I’m beat.” against her better judgment Hope ended up sandwiched between the twins trying and failing to get some sleep. Lizzie was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, Hope could tell by her breathing. Josie, however, laid away and silent for about half an hour. 

“Hope,” she whispered in the dark,” you awake?” she shifted so she was facing Hope.“

Yeah, can’t sleep?” she asked trying to keep her voice low so she didn’t wake up Lizzie.

“no,” was all Josie answered. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Lizzie answered that question earlier, Hope realized, not Josie. Guilt pooled in Hope’s stomach as she realized just how easily she’d overlooked what Josie needed. She couldn’t do that again.

Josie was quiet for a moment and Hope almost that she fell asleep. She leaned in closer to Hope,” it’s just all so messed up,” she muttered laying her head on Hope’s shoulder,” between the prison world, Kai, and you- you died Hope right in front of me,” Josie sniffled and Hope’s heart broke in two. She hadn’t meant to worry Josie, everything she’d done was to keep her safe.

Hope linked their hands together,” I’m here Jo and I will never happen again literally.” her attempt at humor didn’t hit his mark, so she squeezed her hand hard.” I don’t know if your mom told you this Jo, but your parents called my family,” Hope paused unsure of how to tell the brunette that she was leaving,” they’re sending me home.” 

“No- no they can’t do that,” Josie stuttered. Even in the dark Hope could see the panicked look on Josie’s face. 

“It’s just till I adjust, “ Hope tried,” they think it’s what’s for the best.” 

“When do you leave,” 

“They should be here tomorrow night to pick me up.” Josie didn’t answer, instead, she dug her face into Hope’s neck, it was wet with tears. “ hey stop don’t cry,” Hope said as she pulled Josie’s face-up and wiped the tears away with her thumb. 

“You’re going to come back aren’t you?” Josie asked locking eyes with Hope.

“Of course, I’ve always come back haven’t I?” Hope wasn’t expecting an answer and Josie didn’t provide one, all she did was smile. That smile warmed Hope like a ray of sunshine.

They stayed like that for a moment just enjoying each other’s presence, Hope didn’t think she could ever get tired of looking at Josie. When Josie broke the silence it was with a complete change of subject that threw Hope for a loop,” what’s going to happen when your family gets here,” she inquired,” are they going to kill uncle Matt for what he did to you?” 

It would be a lie to say that Hope wasn’t worrying about the same thing, “not if I can help it and don’t worry I’ve got a plan.” she replied,” but that plan starts with us getting some sleep.” If only it were that easy, even when Hope closed her eyes, Josie never did. She stared unabashedly at Hope for what felt like an eternity before Hope spoke up,” what is it Jo?” she asked her annoyance giving way to laughter.

“You had a crush on me.” Josie snickered. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Lizzie told you,” Hope groaned, turning her face away. She was honestly surprised Lizzie hadn’t told her twin before, but that didn’t mean she was prepared for the conversation that was going to follow.

“Can I ask why?” 

Hope blinked against the darkness for a moment waiting for the right words to come, but they didn’t, not her own words anyway someone else’s,” who wouldn’t.” a grin spread across both their faces,” now get some sleep, I’m serious.” 

They both did eventually and actually slept rather peacefully. She woke up to the sound of her bedroom door slamming with a loud bang, Josie did too, they both jumped awake and frantically looked for the what caused the sound. All they found was a note left on Lizzie’s side of the bed which was surprisingly empty. Hope read the note aloud,” gone to make amend with mom, left breakfast on the table - heart Lizzie.” She was glad Lizzie had gone to talk to Caroline, but the rest of it didn’t make sense,” wait Lizzie can’t cook.”

“And she didn’t,” Josie answered reaching to the bedside table and grabbing a tray.” pop-tarts and chocolate milk. Oh and a blood bag.” 

Hope laughed slightly, at least she was making an effort,” well I’m not one to pass up breakfast in bed.” they sat and ate together, simply enjoying each other’s company. Hope figured this would be the last peaceful moment she’d have for a while, as soon as she steps outside this room, all eyes will be on her. Hope finished the pop-tart rather quickly and moved on to the blood. 

She ripped it open and started drinking without even thinking. She nearly choked on the blood,” oh god that’s vile,” she groaned,” animal blood.” 

“Not as good as the real thing?” Josie asked sipping her chocolate milk.

“Not even close,” Hope answered before deciding that she needed to drink the rest despite the taste. If she was going to continue going to school here she’d have to get used to it.

“Did I taste good?” that was a very loaded question. Hope’s eyebrows shot up but she quickly composed herself and put on a classic Mikaelson smirk.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” the question threw her but most things about Josie did that these days. 

Hope had no idea when they’d gotten this close to each other.” I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want an answer.” Josie retaliated with a smirk of her own and Hope’s heart skipped a beat. 

“What do you want me to say, Josie, that’s it’s all I can think about. “ Hope’s traveled to Josie’s lips then to her neck. She could feel Josie’s breath before she pulled away breaking the tension between them. 

She was off the bed and to the door before Josie even knew what was happening, ” come on Jo I told you I had plans today, wanna help?” 

[twaigfraggle]

A CantusJohn story, since you're taking requests? It can focus on how both of them are pretty much the adoptive dads of the Fraggle Five!

Hello my friend many apologies for the late reply. This isn’t my best work and I apologize, I’m still getting to know Cantus and Convincing Johns characters. 😊 hope you enjoy!

The 5 times Cantus and CJ parented the Fraggle 5.

1. “And I thought I had convinced him to stop hitting his henchmen, but, it didn’t work! He was back at It within the hour.” John was pacing in his cave recounting how he has tried to convince the worlds oldest fraggle to leave his poor henchmen be. “I mean if I cant convince him what does that say about me? Am I losing my touch?”

“No John, he’s just…The way that he Is. You know that.” Cantus sat on one of the rocks on the cave floor writing a jumble of notes on a piece of parchment. His pipe sat beside him. Cantus eyed it. “Would you like me to play you something?” John nodded and stopped his pacing opting to join Cantus on the rock. Just as he put his pipe to his mouth Wembley scurried in. Out of breath and pale.

“What is it lad?” John asked.

“Their fighting again!” The two exchanged a look.

“About what?” Cantus asked. His tone cool, almost unfazed.

“They had a race today and they tied but, they both insist they one and not the other.” He sighed.

“Okay. We’ll take care of it young Wembley.” Cantus said as he lowered his pipe. He stood and held out a hand to John. Who took it.

2. John hated when Cantus left. It made him feel like a single parent. Although not biologically his children he excepted these five youngsters As his own. He and Cantus had made the decision together, it wasn’t hard when it was the both of them, yet here he was helping poor Boober with his broken wash board. It had broken after Boober had scrubbed a bit too hard. He was a wreck. John had convinced him he would be okay, but, then there was the problem of obtaining a new one, or at least fixing the old one. John wished Cantus was here he was better at dealing with Boobers emotions. Mokey had offered to find some sort of glue to help but that was hours ago and Boober was almost inconsolable. He was sat on the floor holding the broken board and was wailing over the loss. John contemplated going to find Wembley as he was better at comforting Boober then any fraggle John knew. But, he didn’t want to just abandon Boober. So cautiously he sat down beside Boober and pulled the small fraggle into a hug. Soothing him until his wails were only soft hiccups and sniffles. John hoped that this would be enough to help him.

3.Cantus was never able to connect with Red. Maybe It was because she still felt guilty about stealing his pipe. But, she seemed to prefer John over him. Cantus didn’t mind but he wished she would open up to him more. He felt he would never get an opportunity until one day when John was out. “Hey John you in here?”

“Just me today Red.” Cantus replied. “What can I help you with?”

“Oh uh well, it’s kinda ya know…personal.”

“Ah I see. You can’t trust me you know.” She smiled lightly.

“I know but…”

“You’re uncomfortable sharing things with me cause you think I’m not too fond of you?” Her eyes bugged out of her head.

“How could you tell?”

“Your facial expression, and you’re aura.”

“Huh. How did you learn to read auras?”

“I can’t quite remember. Guess I’ve just always been able to.” She sat down beside him.

“Maybe I can tell you a little bit of what’s happening.” Cantus smiled. This was a start.

4. Gobo was a stubborn kid. Even when he was little. He wouldn’t budge with anything. He tended to be very aloof when provoked. He kept his emotions buried deep within. But, with Cantus and John, those emotions often came flowing out. He would express his anger about things, he would bounce off the walls in excitement, he would would cry when things didn’t go exactly as planned. Even from a young age he would come to them and let his feelings out. He was determined to stay stoic. Though he showed emotions around both Cantus and John, he much preferred Cantus. John didn’t take it personally as Cantus had a very warm approachable appearance. It was one of Johns favorite things about him. After something particularly exciting had happened Gobo cane plowing Into the cave with a burst of energy and a smile wider then his face. He was carrying on about a postcard from his uncle and how he was returning and how excited he was for Matt to get back. The two knew how much Gobo looked up to Matt and now he got to show him how much he had matured. They smiled at him offering congratulations.

5. Mokey was more mature when it came to feelings. She was almost maternal. Which cantus and John appreciates greatly as they themselves weren’t female so the feminine mind wasn’t truly something they could navigate. But, she loved to show off her poems to them. They were her test audience. They often looked forward to the poetry readings as it gave them an excuse to sit arms around each other and just be. Mokeys poems were often long and dragged a bit toward the middle but, they deemed them perfect every time., even when mokey wasn’t so sure, they even had helped her write a few. When she had considered giving up because she felt that she wasn’t actually a good poet John day her down and convinced her that she was a phenomenal poet.

[waywardfic]

“Who Needs Mistletoe?”

A Fluffy Destiel 1k Christmas Fic (AO3 Link)

Summary: Dean has a weird dream where he almost kisses Cas. Sam, Dean, and Cas unwrap the Christmas presents they gave to each other. Will Dean and Cas kiss for the first time when Sam goes to the bathroom?

---

Dean woke suddenly, his dream still replaying in his head. They were all on a hunt. Something Christmas-related. Crazy Santa or whatever. He and Cas found themselves under a mistletoe. When they looked up, it came to life with a crazy type of face you’d find on an inanimate object in cartoons. It’s brow turned, glaring at them. “Kiss or die”. Dean and Cas found themselves frozen, looking each-other in the eyes. And exactly then, Dean wakes. Eyes wide. Adrenaline rushing.

Cas doesn’t want to kiss him, Dean thought. Well, he’d surely pick that over dying, but that’s not the same thing. Unfortunately, kissing Cas seemed to be meant for “Kiss or die” scenarios during his dreams... and, sadly, he couldn’t even get far enough to kiss his devastatingly handsome friend even then.

It’s been a slow morning. Dean stayed in bed for a while overthinking. They’re all at the bunker. This year they decided to actually celebrate Christmas for once, each giving each-other a gift. However, they’re too old to run down to the tree right at dawn like children. Plus, they promised to wait until everyone was there before opening gifts.

Dean found Sam and Cas sitting down at the table by the tree fully lit and decorated, chatting and having a good time.

“Hey, you finally showed up!”, Sam called, with a huge smile on his face.

Cas pointed down at one of the mugs on the table, “I was starting to think this might get cold before you got here. I made you a mocha. Hope you like it. I know you usually go for coffee”.

Dean’s excitement grew. Sure Cas makes dean coffee all the time, but a mocha? That’s adorable. With a growing smile, Dean reached down and took a sip. It was incredible. Cas topped it off mini marshmallows that he didn’t even know they had in the bunker.

“Uh, yeah, Cas”, he laughs, “I’m gonna need one of these everyday from now on”.

Cas fills with joy at those words.

Sam coughs, breaking up Dean and Cas’ locked eyes. “Presents, anyone?”

They all move to the floor to open them. Sam ripped his open so fiercely that Dean couldn’t focus on his own. Cas was more anxious and excited to see the Winchesters open their gifts than to see what they gave him. From under the red wrapping paper and its matching ribbon that held onto a note that said “Merry Christmas! -Cas”, Sam pulls out a Fitbit box. He laughs out of surprise and brings Cas over for a hug. “I thought you might like it since you go on those mornings runs”

“Of course I like it! Thank you, Cas”. Within seconds, it’s already on his wrist. “The matte black is perfect. These things always seemed cool!”

Cas smiles big, proud of his gift choice for Sam.

Dean purposely bumps into Cas, “Thanks for outdoing me”, he whispers. Rolling his eyes and then turning to Sam, “mine’s not that fancy but Merry Christmas”, pushing the gift into his brother. Sam looks up remembering there’s more, and unwraps it. Inside the box there’s a book on “unknown” serial killers and a vanilla scented candle. He hugs Dean. “I hope you like vanilla. Seemed like a pretty safe choice. I saw you staring at a bunch of them recently”.

Sam lifts off the candle’s cap, takes a sniff, and lets out a happy sigh.

Dean opens Sam’s gift for him. Several pairs of silly novelty socks and a “Beers Around The World” set. “If it wasn’t so early I’d crack one of these open already!” He pulls out the pair of Scooby Doo socks and puts them on, clearly very into them.

Dean grabs the next gift. Inside is an apron. Dean unfolds it to see that it’s full of cowboys and western movie scenes. He huffs out a small laugh and with a smile puts it on. “So do I look cute?”

With an eye roll, Sam answers, “adorable”.

Dean looks over to Cas but the blue-eyed angel doesn’t say anything. He just looks at the hunter with love in his eyes.

Dean bashfully looks down and sees a another gift in the box. A fancy black leather braided bracelet with a silver clasp. He slowly puts it on, hoping neither of them can see how hard he’s blushing. Sure, getting a cowboy themed apron was cute and it was practically a perfect gift, but receiving jewelry from Cas gave him butterflies. It felt romantic. Dean wished so deeply that he could pull him over for a kiss right then and there. If only they hung some mistletoe. Instead, he grabbed Sam’s gift for Cas and threw it into Cas’ lap.

Cas opened it with care, keeping the wrapping in tact. Then he thanked Sam for the fiction book series, enthusiastically promising to read it soon.

Then came Dean’s gift. When Cas grabbed it, Dean got up to grab his mocha, to avoid Cas’ initial reaction to it, but Cas waited until he sat back down to start unwrapping.

Inside were lovely artificial violets in a white ceramic vase, together totaling a height around 10 inches. Cas took it out of the box and examined it, fingers toying with the petals. “They’re beautiful, Dean”.

“Uhhh, thanks, glad you like it. You never really decorated your room so I thought I’d get you something for it. They don’t need to be watered cause they’re fake, so, uh, they’ll be fine when we’re on hunts”.

“I can’t wait to put it by my bed”, Cas responds, putting his hand on Dean’s, trying to meet his eyes. But Dean just looks down at Cas’ hand on his.

Sam stands up, “I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom”.

They don’t look up. Cas begins to fiddle with Dean’s new bracelet, “It looks good on you”.

“Thanks”.

“You’re gift for me was really thoughtful”.

Dean looks up at him. Their faces barely inches apart. Cas’ eyes drift to Dean’s lips.

Oh, Dean thought, maybe Cas would want to kiss me.

Cas places his hand on the back of Dean’s neck. Dean leans in. Turns out there doesn’t need to be a life or death situation for them to kiss and Dean is very grateful for that.  

When Sam walks back in, his jaw drops. Dean is on top of Cas, who’s laying on the floor, passionately making out. Sam decides it’s probably best for everyone if he leaves again.

The next time he sees them it’s time for lunch. Cas is falling over with laughter, “A talking mistletoe? Kiss or die?? Really Dean???” He leans over to kiss him again, and whispers, “I’m so happy we kissed under the tree instead”.

---

Side Notes: This is a Christmas gift for @shipperofdarkness​ (my irl bestie ❤️)

---

A Very Fluffy Mini Sequel: 

It’s been a year since Dean and Cas’ anniversary which was also their first proper Christmas together. After a few months of Cas spending more nights than not in Dean’s room, Dean decided it should finally, officially be their room. Cas couldn’t agree more, preferring “Dean’s” room over his anyways.

There wasn’t much for Cas to bring from his old room. Several books still lay in its bookshelf but everything important is now in what’s Dean and Cas’ room.

Cas’ nightstand is minimalistic. A lamp, whatever book he’s currently reading, and the most important piece of decor, the fake lavender flowers Dean gave him last Christmas.

This year Cas knew exactly what he wanted to get Dean. He watched with excitement as Dean opened the box wrapped with green and red stripped paper with a bow on top. Dean smiled wide as he saw the artificial red roses in a clear thin vase. He pulled Castiel in for a passionate kiss, which was closer to a make-out session, only to be cut off by Sam’s, “Please, get a room, I’m begging you two”.

Now the roses sit on Dean’s nightstand. Sure, its clear vase doesn’t match the white one for the lavender. And the wide shape of roses don’t match the other flowers’ thinness. And the red near the purple is a little too close to clashing... But Dean couldn’t love the gift any more than he already does.

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of DC: Week of February 26th, 2020

Best of this Week: Batman: Curse of the White Knight Book Seven - Sean Murphy, Matt Hollingsworth and AndWorld Design

Batman is Dead.

The last issue of Curse of the White Knight gave us the last in the story of Edmond Wayne and revealed that the man that Bruce thought was his ancestor, turned out to have been the family to Jean-Paul Valley instead. Bakkar of the Order of St. Dumas killed Edmond after betraying and stealing Gotham from under him, thus assuming the name of Wayne and forming the city to his vision. With this newfound information, Batman has found himself a man with a lineage of thievery, especially after finding out that Gotham’s Elite have been funding their crime through Wayne Enterprises.

This issue begins with a somber flashback to a moment before the funeral of the Waynes. Bruce cries and blames himself for their deaths because he wanted to see The Mask of Zorro. He had always wanted to use the rapiers that his father kept on display and figured if he learned to use them from the movie, then he would be able to impress his father enough. Alfred, always so caring, tells him that if he’s able to go to the funeral, then he can hold a rapier. He then vows to teach young Bruce how to use it for the next danger he may face.

Matt Hollingsworth colors this flashback in a cool blue hue, emphasizing both the sadness and the hopefulness of the moment. Murphy portrays Alfred as being caring and shows that even with the tears, Bruce shows his ability to rise up and become the hero that people need. Though the rapier is far too large for his kid body, Bruce holds it firm in hopes of protecting Gotham in the future.

As we cut back to the modern day, Bruce faith in himself and his dreams of becoming Gotham’s knight are shaken. He was never a Wayne by blood and he sees himself as part of Gotham’s cuse. Many would be right to see him as such given Gotham’s crime initially started off as petty stuff and eventually escalated into battles with The Joker, Two-Face and others with Gotham being caught in the crossfire every time. He didn’t even know that his company was being used by criminals because of his singular focus on fighting crime.

Murphy draws Batman as being tired and ashamed of himself for only just now understanding Jack Napier’s vision and why Batman is just as bad for Gotham as The Joker was. His expressions are melancholic, Murphy makes excellent use of shadow to try to hide some of his shame and body language to make him look like an old man that’s been sitting on a lawn chair for eighty hard years. Harleen Quinzel acts as his voice of reason during his pity party and actually shows concern for him.

Harleen has been a central character in this world since the very first issue of the original White Knight and that doesn’t change here though her own personal arc is over. The last issue saw her do her best to bring Jack Napier out of Joker’s mind for one last time for information and to save her children. In the end, she had to shoot Joker in the head to let Jack rest and rid herself of the monster that had been plaguing her for years. She still finds herself at Batman’s side as one of his most trusted friends.

Bruce still has one thing that he can do to make sure that Jean-Paul doesn’t get away with his crimes and Harley convinces him that Gotham will forgive his transgressions like they did for the former Joker in Napier. At the same time, Azrael is still out there and Murphy and Hollingsworth give readers an AMAZING shot of the villain in his updated Knightfall costume. He grabs onto the nds of his cape as he soars backwards into his hideout. The lights of the city contrast with his blacks, yellows and blues to just give us a pretty damn good shot of how powerful he feels in the suit.

This is contrasted by the next few set of panels where he’s puking out of his mask after escaping from the GTO (Gotham Task Oppression Unit). This version of Azrael has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and as such needs medicine to live and suppress the symptoms. With little dialogue and some telling panels, we see that Azrael has empty bottle after empty bottle of pills in his cabinet. He’s starting to look a bit more gaunt than the first time we saw him. He’s withering away slowly and only has one more pill to spare for his coming battle with Batman.

I love the details that Murphy and Hollingworth add here. There’s blood in his vomit and it maintains after he pukes on his leg. His ribs are starting to show and we’ve seen just how jacked he was in the issues prior. His hair doesn’t appear as long as it did, even pulled into a bun/ponytail and there’s just something so final about the “shit” he gives after finding out that he only has one more pill left. In that singular moment, his mistakes come back to haunt him after killing his, admittedly, treacherous employer.

Soon after, Bruce makes amends to Barbara Gordon after inadvertently causing the accident that almost saw her completely lose use of her legs and effectively getting her dad killed. Barbara has always been resilient and we all feared that that issue #5 would be yet another Killing Joke, but here she is, using crutches to try walking again. The scene takes place during the bright Gotham day and this signals a brighter future for their relationship.

Bruce had always gone to Jim Gordon for advice on what route he should take, but without him, Bruce is missing one of his moral compasses. Barbara is the next best person because she has always been smarter than her father and Bruce has a ton of guilt to get off of his chest and Barbara handles everything like the mature adult that she is. She doesn’t blame Bruce for what happened, even though she said horrid things in anger, but can anyone blame her? She cries at the mention of her father and embraces Bruce, encouraging whatever his decision may be.

Of course, with this being the penultimate issue in this particular storyline, it only makes sense that we see a grand revelation come out of it. Murphy and Hollingsworth set the stage with Hollingsworth coloring the afternoon skies of Gotham with an orange-red kind of hue. We see various shots of different places in Gotham from public libraries to the streets themselves as Batman appears on the giant monitor of Gotham Square. Everything feels hot and sort of uncomfortable.

Bruce gives his appreciation and thanks to the people of Gotham for allowing him to serve as their protector and we continue to get these various shots of people. There’s auto mechanics watching the broadcast in their shop, people in a bar and kids watching on a cell phone with their dog. Murphy uses this to illustrate that Gotham is far larger than we think it is and that there are many people that Batman has saved from every corner of his beloved city, but he hasn’t done enough yet. So what’s the final step?

Batman reveals himself to be Bruce Wayne and dismantles WayneCorp.

Bruce finally becomes the knight that Gotham needs by giving back to the people. By destroying his company, he gives back to the people of Gotham by giving all of his money to nonprofits, schools, homeless shelters etc. It’s everything that Batman detractors have been saying Bruce should have done for ages. In doing so, he offers Gotham a better future than he could have as Batman, but he only asks them to stay off the streets of Gotham for one night while he takes care of the Azrael business. Murphy shows Bruce holding his cowl one last time, standing tall by his heroic decision.

Back at the GCPD, he gets lambasted by Commissioner Montoya for going off and doing his own thing again, but counters by saying that he trusts in the people of Gotham and they all formulate their battle plans. It’ll be his last time taking the reigns before he turns himself in as well, so he might as well make sure that everything goes according to plan.

As Montoya tells Batman that Azrael destroyed most of the other Batmobiles in his assault on bruce in Book Four (I think), she reveals that one survived and I see that Sean Murphy is a Batfan after my own heart. The Batmobile that survives is the badass one from the Animated Series, what this book is supposed to be the “sequel” to. It's sleek and well designed thanks to Murphy’s own love of cars. From the presentation, readers can tell that this is one of the pages he took serious time with as the Batmobile is given so much respect.

After a short conversation with Dick about what Bruce is going to do when he catches Azrael, Batman drives away, leaving his sidekicks concerned about his state of mind and we get one last splash page of Batman standing in the middle of Gotham Square without his cowl and the sky is a blood red. The Batmobile looks sexy in the background and this was all just so amazing.

Sean Murphy is a comic book treasure. His art and his writing truly made this an experience and a Batman story worth standing the test of time. It had the action, the drama, the stylish sequences and several twists and turns that make a story great. He’s made Batman his own in a grungy style much like how Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo have in a heavy metal manner. Murphy’s Gotham is a masterpiece in crustpunk with social problems that Batman’s always had in the periphery of his character and every issue has been better than the last.

Matt Hollingsworth brings it to life with his perfect colors; Whether they’re making use of the blues of Gotham’s clear skies or the light purples of the night sky, Hollingworth makes Gotham look distinct no matter the time of day. Scenes are given hues to match the tone of the pages whether they’re full of intense anger or incredible sadness, Matt Hollingsworth sets the mood no matter what

I really enjoyed this series, but I can’t wait for the next and final issue of it just to see that confrontation between Batman and Azrael. It’s been a long time coming and the fallout from Bruce’s decision as well… it’ll be too much, but yeah High recommend!

Also, support me on Patreon:

patreon.com/TyTalksComics

[lynne-monstr]

where brave and restless dreams are won and lost

Written for the malec secret santa 2019, for the lovely @gaywoodandbine

Summary: Magnus is a witch. Alec is the witch-hunter tasked with bringing him in. (Two of these things are true, one is only half-true)

ao3 link

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In the last remaining hours before first light, Alec crouches behind a precariously balanced pile of steel rebar and observes his target.

Magnus Bane stands in the middle of the gutted out building with his arms outstretched, a king of concrete and scrap metal. It should look ridiculous but even Alec, with his affinity for nature-based magic, can feel the power swirling in the air.

Blistering gusts of wind cut through Alec’s jacket like knives as he watches the ritual unfold. Though the building is sealed off by hanging sheets of tarp, it does little to ward off the winter chill. Alec’s fingers twitch in their gloves, aching to draw warmth from the earth deep below the concrete foundation.

He doesn’t so much as shift. He’s too close to his goal to surrender to something as trivial as discomfort. Not when there’s so much at stake. He sacrificed too much to get where he is now. The closeness of his family, his morals, his self-respect. One by one, they all fell to his ultimate goal.

If he concentrates, he can still see Jace’s face on that fateful day. His brother’s usual teasing and bravado was gone, replaced by grim determination as he shoved Alec aside and cast his last spell to keep Alec still. To keep him hidden and safe.

Jace’s parting whisper of, ‘It’s okay, Alec. It’s better this way,’ haunts him to this day.

‘It’s not,’ Alec had wanted to scream, but couldn’t. Not with the spell binding him. ‘I’m not worth it.’

The smooth tones of Bane’s voice snap Alec back to the present. He shakes off the memory, focusing instead on picking out the individual words of the ritual. When he does, he nearly gives away his position with a hastily muffled snort.

Bane is reciting the New York City building code.

An urban witch. Alec has never met one before. Growing up, he’d been taught that urban magic was rough and unrefined, a substandard form of witchcraft for those who couldn’t harness the raw power of nature. Looking at Magnus Bane, nothing could be further from the truth.

Alec refrains from rolling his eyes at himself. He can spend his time in frivolous debate on the merits of magic or he can focus on the mission, the first one he’s been trusted with since infiltrating the ranks of the witch-hunters.

No matter how beautiful this man and his magic are, it isn’t enough to save him.

“I’m sorry,” Alec whispers to the concrete ground. Perhaps it’s enough to give his apology by proxy, spoken to the medium of this witch’s magic rather to the man himself. Alec hopes so.

Drawing his bow, Alec readies an arrow tipped in magic-suppressing poison and fires.

.

Magnus is sunk deep in his own spell, electricity in his blood and the bustle of early morning traffic in his veins. The ebb and flow of a city that never truly stops. All of it rushing into his lungs and bringing fresh waves of power in its wake. And something else. Something that pings on the edge of his senses, a tang of vinegar in a freshly uncorked bottle of wine.

He doesn’t know what brings him out of the ritual, only that it does. He heeds the warning of his magic, the growing itch under his skin, and opens his eyes to the sight of an object flying straight for him. An arrow unerringly seeking his heart.

Not his heart, a distant part of him notes. His shoulder. Whoever is after him wants him alive.

Magnus’ eyes flash yellow. The hue of blinking neon. Double lines on dark asphalt. Taxis trailing a cacophony of horns as they weave through overcrowded streets. He throws himself to the ground just in time to hear the arrow soar past, his hands scraping open on the loose gravel. His blood seeps out and the city rushes in to fill the void.

Wild magic flickers at his hands, called by the spilling of blood. He twirls his wrist and the pile of steel beams on the other side of the building collapses in a ringing clatter. The sounds of cursing follow.

The shadow of a man stands to his full height amidst the strewn pile of steel rebar. Even in the dark, the swoop of his impressively large bow blooms from his body like wings. An avenging angel crashed down to earth.

Magnus has never put much stock in angels.

“You must be a new recruit, I’d remember a build like yours,” he taunts. An attack like this could only come from a witch-hunter, and if this one is arrogant enough to try and take Magnus on his own home turf, he’s about to learn a very painful lesson. “It’s been a long time since one of you people dared to come after me.”

He expects another arrow. What he doesn’t expect is a gust of clean wind that knocks him clear off his feet.

The world spins and he grasps for power that’s gone slippery in the face of such distilled natural magic. Magnus recoils even as he rolls to his feet. The witch-hunter is a witch. His mind races, trying to process the impossible. The witch-hunters hated their kind for the gifts they possessed, for the sacrifices they were willing to make to wield their magic. It was a hatred borne of fear, of the unknown. For a witch to join their ranks was unthinkable.

Magnus dodges another attack. ”Why are you doing this?” he shouts across the empty space. “You must know they’ll put you down the moment they learn what you are.”

He doesn’t get an answer.

Being in the heart of a city, Magnus should have the upper hand but this witch came prepared. The man reaches into a pocket and pulls out a pinch of dirt from a small pouch. Time seems to slow as he flings the earth to the ground.

The moment it lands, the building’s concrete foundation shakes apart, small cracks growing into larger ones.

Magnus dances out of the way to keep from being swallowed, and not in the fun way. The power from his interrupted ritual has run dry and so has the boost he’d gotten when he scraped his hand. He bounces lightly on his feet and prepares to fight the mundane way while he preps another spell. Looks like all his years of Tai Chi practice are going to pay off. Balance and flexibility aren’t just good skills for the bedroom.

Several large, thick vines snake up from the widening cracks, writhing in the air.

“Kinky,” Magnus calls out to his opponent, watching the vines come at him. “I like that in a man.”

He dodges on nimble feet, keeping one step ahead of the vines as he reaches for his athame. To be fair, calling it an athame is generous. On a shopping trip many years ago, Magnus had seen one of those tiny pocket knives disguised as a lipstick and became instantly enamored. But that’s the beauty of magic. It��s the perfect marriage of tradition and interpretation. And so Magnus gets to see the scandalized look on the faces of other witches when he pulls out his lipstick knife.

Correction. He got to see it. He won’t get to see it anymore if the witch-hunters get their hands on him.

He doesn’t know what their organization did to recruit a witch to their cause, but it can’t be anything good. Magnus needs to escape, if for no other reason than to let the rest of his people know how much danger they’re all in.

The first vine breaks through his defenses and winds tight around Magnus’ wrists, jerking them apart and sending the matte gray lipstick case flying. Another set of vines encircles Magnus’ chest and creeps up his legs, tethering him to the ground.

Once he’s fully ensnared, the witch-hunter steps forward into a dim pool of emergency lighting.

Magnus’ mouth runs on autopilot as he tests the strength of the vines. It’s a good distraction for the panic threatening to claw up his throat. “This is a bit much for a first date, don’t you think? I’m afraid I have to insist on dinner and a safeword, first.”

The man’s eyes widen before his expression shutters shut. “It has to be like this.”

What a crime for such a plush mouth to utter such garbage. Magnus scoffs, even as he continues to struggle. It’s a waste of effort but it makes him feel less useless. “No it doesn’t. Lie to yourself as much as you want but don’t give me that crap. You’re hunting your own people and that’s a choice.”

“I have to.” A wave of grief flits across the man’s face so quickly that Magnus nearly misses it.

The acerbic response dies on Magnus’ tongue and he kicks himself for being too caught up in his own emotions to see the truth. Because why would a witch betray their own people? This young man is either power hungry to the point of self-destruction or being blackmailed.

Magnus has his money on the latter. “What do they have on you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m the one who’s going to die for it. I’d say it matters a lot.”

The verbal blow lands perfectly and his attacker’s pretty face freezes. If Magnus was a better man, he might feel bad about the manipulation but if he learned anything from growing up on the streets and leaning witchcraft on his own, it was that if he didn’t fight for himself, no one else would.

“It’s my brother,” the man whispers, not meeting Magnus’ gaze. “They took my brother.”

“And you think they’ll give him back in exchange for me? You’re a fool.”

The man shakes his head. “I know they won’t. But wherever they take you, that’s where he’ll be, too. I have to find him.”

Dread lodges in a tight ball behind Magnus’ sternum. The fate in store for him isn’t a pleasant one. Even so, he can almost understand. There isn’t much he wouldn’t do for his own patchwork family. “I can help you if you let me. I’ve fought them before and I can do it again. We can find another way.”

Hope flares in the other man’s eyes but it’s extinguished just as quickly. Despair races through Magnus as his attacker pulls out another arrow. He can sense the poison on the tip, the way his magic tries to shrink away from the substance.

Magnus’ mind races, searching for anything he can use, anything that will stop what’s about to happen. The sharp point of the arrow descends towards Magnus’ unprotected neck just as a last-ditch idea forms too late.

The arrow stops in mid-air.

Magnus doesn’t waste the opportunity. Words spill from deep within his chest, echoing like the clanging of steel on steel. He throws the last dregs of his magic into the words and hopes it’s enough to work on a witch who isn’t bound by city rules. His voice booms in the dead of the night, echoing around the deserted site.

“Special authorization must be granted to work after hours. You must apply for an after-hours variance. If you do not have an after-hours variance, all work must cease immediately.”

It isn’t magic, not really. Magnus calls on the city and it comes to his aid.

As if from far away, Magnus can hear the sounds of traffic, the unceasing horns and the pounding rhythm of footsteps on concrete. The shouted cursing and the chatter of conversation. The music wafting out from bars and strip clubs. The thud of the subway snaking its way in all directions like living, metal tendrils of lifeblood. It builds from a roar into a deafening crescendo, pulsing in time with Magnus’ racing heart until it spills forth in a loud crack.

The witch-hunter is thrown backwards, crumbling to the group in an unmoving heap. His handsome features go slack and he doesn’t get up. The vines holding Magnus loosen their grip and wither, sinking back into the ground.

Magnus runs.

He takes the unconscious witch-hunter with him.

.

Alec wakes as he always does, to a familiar litany of failure. Jace is gone. Isabelle is in hiding. He’s alone and it’s up to him to bring his family back together. For a blissful moment, he can almost pretend that’s all there is to it.

One thought topples into the next like falling dominoes and the full sense of his failure comes crashing down. His family. Jace. Magnus Bane. He had one shot to fix things and he ruined it.

Alec bolts upright, the fight he lost settling into his mind like the first crisp fall of leaves. He takes in the unfamiliar room around him. The clean lines and large windows. Modern architecture and exposed brick. Not a plant in sight.

The urban witch. He’s in the home of his enemy.

“Alexander Lightwood.”

A lifetime living under his parents’ strict rules keeps Alec from doing anything as embarrassing as startling when Magnus Bane appears from nowhere. Not nowhere, he realizes, studying the layout of the living room. From some sort of hallway.

“How do you know my name?” Alec asks, playing along until he gets a better feel for the situation.

“Magic.” Bane’s smile would be flirty if not for the sharp curl of his lip. “Actually, no. I picked your pocket.”

Alec pats down his clothes, alarm replaced by confusion when he feels the familiar bulge of his wallet.

Bane responds without missing a beat. “I gave it back.”

Despite himself, Alec is a little bit charmed. And trying not to think about where Bane had to put his hands to get at his wallet. Which is when he realizes that it isn’t his money or identification he should be concerned about. He was carrying something far more important. Panic quickens his breath and he struggles not to let it show on his face.

He must fail, because Bane’s smile widens and from behind his back, he pulls out a familiar cloth pouch.

For witches like Alec and his family—natural witches, they liked to call themselves—being in the heart of a city is like trying to do magic with dampeners. There are small patches of tree lined streets, flocks of pigeons, small parks, weeds valiantly trying to grow even in the most developed of places, but using it is the magical equivalent of drawing well water from a dirty, shallow puddle.

Clutched in Bane’s manicured hand is the dirt from the Lightwood family estate, Alec’s conduit to the woodlands and lakes of his childhood home.

“Looking for this?” Bane asks.

Even his gloating is elegant. Alec hates him a little bit. “That’s mine.” Alec leans forward before he can stop himself.

“Not anymore. Perhaps you should have thought of that before you turned against your own kind.” Bane claps his hands once, “Let’s talk, shall we.” He settles himself into a disturbingly bright blue side chair and turns to face Alec on the couch.

In Alec’s experience, talk means something more along the lines of interrogation or execution. He doesn’t take the flashy witch in front of him as the type to soil his expensive furniture but it would hardly be the first time Alec’s wrong about someone. Cut off from his natural witchcraft, he feels exposed and vulnerable and very alone.

His hands clench into fists. Jace is counting on him and so is Isabelle. “What’s there to talk about? Are you going to kill me or not?”

“Not all of us are so cavalier about killing other witches.”

Denial is on the tip of Alec’s tongue, and it trails a bitter line down his throat as he swallows. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t intend to kill Bane or that he hesitated in the final moments, caught by an overwhelming sense of wrongness. He would have gotten over it, shoved down the sick feeling in his gut and done his duty.

His fingers flex against the throw blanket next to him. It’s a cotton blend, the soft material against his fingers soothing to his magic.

He could draw strength from it with the right incantation and a little spilled blood. Not for the first time, he’s grateful for the rigorous training his parents put him and his siblings through when they were children. Most natural witches specialize in a certain type of magic, and while Alec prefers the soil of the earth, he can draw power from nearly anything. He’s at a disadvantage here in his enemy’s lair but he’s far from helpless.

“Nothing to say?” Silence falls between them and then completely unexpectedly, Bane’s laughs. The force of it shakes his entire body, his chest and arm muscles straining against his tight Henley. “I suppose I should thank you. I had suspected your employers were after me for quite some time, and now I know for sure.”

Alec scrambles to adjust from potential impeding execution to unexpected humor. How many times was this urban witch going to surprise him? Alec should hate it in the same way he hates everything he can’t plan for, but he can’t deny the thrill that runs down his spine.

“What will you do?” Alec asks. It’s meant as an accusation and a challenge. What is Bane going to do with Alec? Instead, the words come out sounding like concern for Bane, as if the two of them are old friends rather than enemies.

For a strange moment, Alec wishes it were true, they they had met under different circumstances. What would it be like to combine their magic, opposite forces joining together into something new? Alec feels a pang of regret that he’ll never know.

Perhaps Bane hears it too because he squares his shoulders, a strange combination of fierce and resigned. “What I always do. Survive.”

A rush of shame beats against Alec’s chest at the part he played in tonight’s events. Another crests hot on its heels—because even if he had the chance to overpower Magnus Bane and bring him in, Alec’s not sure he could go through with it. Not now that the other man is more than words in a file.

He isn’t sure whether that makes him a good person or a terrible brother. Maybe both.

“I wasn’t going to go through with it,” Alec blurts out, and immediately regrets it. When Isabelle used to tell him to be more open about his feelings, he didn’t think she meant to his enemies. “I know it doesn’t mean much but it’s the truth.”

For the first time, the smile on Bane’s face is real. “I figured that much out. I don’t take just anyone home, you know.” The man honest-to-god winks before adding, “But I appreciate the sentiment, Alexander.”

Something flutters in Alec’s belly. Before he can think too hard on it, movement catches the corner of his eye. Never has he been more grateful for a distraction. He reacts without thinking, his hand reaching out to catch an object in mid-air. He looks down at it and blinks.

His earthen pouch is in his hand.

Power surges through his veins and he stifles a gasp. With effort, he tears his eyes away towards Magnus, slouched his chair like a king in a castle rather than a lone man in his modest apartment. There’s amusement in his eyes but beneath the arrogance is something else, something that softens the harsh planes of his face.

“Why?” Alec asks. His fingers curl protectively around the little pouch.

It doesn’t make sense. Why would Magnus give him this? Alec had been caught by surprise during their first fight but he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice if they came to blows again. Magnus has no real reason to trust his words; he could easily be signing his own death warrant with one act of kindness.

Except Alec knows he isn’t.

“A witch’s power is a precious thing,” is all Magnus says before getting up from his chair to show Alec to the door. It’s a clear dismissal but any reluctance Alec feels is overshadowed by the surprise of seeing his bow and quiver hanging in the entraceway. Alec shoulders them both, half expecting Magnus to protest but unsurprised when he doesn’t.

Magnus sends him off with a final parting shot. “You’re not the only one who’s lost someone to them. If you wanted my help, you could’ve just asked. Remember that in the future.”

Alec hears the echo of those words for a long time after he leaves the loft behind.

.

By some miracle, he isn’t punished by his superiors for his complete failure of a first mission. Instead of assuaging his fears, it puts him on high alert. What if someone figured out his connection to Jace and was silently tightening the net around him? What if they were biding their time in hopes he’d lead them to Isabelle?

An attack never comes and Alec eventually stops holding his breath. Right up until he overhears a conversation in the research lab.

“…taking another run at Magnus Bane. Not even he can fight off a dozen of us.”

Alec flattens himself against the wall as the pair leaves, too lost in their chatter to notice him. The pounding in his chest crescendos in his ears as the voices fade. He can pretend he never heard it. If he plays his cards right, he can arrange to be here when they bring Magnus in. Surely his conscience would be appeased if he isn’t the one to capture Magnus. His original plan to find Jace can proceed.

He knows before the thought finishes that it’s a lie.

In his mind’s eye he sees kind eyes and magic that gleams like fresh neon. A man whose response to being attacked was a soft, ‘If you wanted my help, you could have just asked.’

Alec doesn’t stop to put on his jacket. He walks to the nearest oasis of greenery and kneels in the dirt. His fingers sink into the freezing ground, pulling the familiar power of the earth into his hands. On a crisp breeze, his message drifts towards a loft in Brooklyn.

‘Whatever you’re doing tonight, cancel it. It’s an ambush.

PS – you said I could just ask for your help. This is me asking.’

The message should feel like the end of something. Like he’s giving up on his family, like he’s abandoning the only people he’s ever loved. But as Alec gets to his feet, he feels renewed hope spring to life in his chest, a tiny sapling pushing its way into the light.

He can’t save his family alone and he doesn’t have to.

With that thought, another piece falls into place. He isn’t doing his sister any favors by keeping her sheltered from the fight. Eventually she’ll lose patience and leave and when she does, Alec won’t be there to watch her back. Before he can change his mind, he sends off another message, this time to Isabelle.

A laugh bubbles up in his chest as he imagines introducing her to Magnus Bane. He has a feeling the two of them will get along a little too well. When he finally gets back to the Institute, he feels lighter than he has since this mess started.

This isn’t an end, it’s a beginning.