#this ‘feature’ literally makes no sense; why are we at fault for reblogging anything; we aren’t OP

[r0semultiverse]

You know what feature we need to bother staff for next? Other people’s posts getting flagged as counting towards “strikes” on our blogs.

[miguel-manbemel]

Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 21: Whatever Happened to Honesty and Logan?

The release date for this episode is coincidental. Today, it’s the fifth anniversary of the first introduction of the Teacher Guy on Vine, and this episode of the fic is partially focused on Logan. So, it serves to celebrate the anniversary too. Happy birthday to Logan.

For new readers, it also features an original character that I introduced in the fic, a representation of Thomas’ Honesty, still without a name, because I want to wait until Deceit gets his name to give a name to Honesty. The description of this character appears on the second episode of the fic, “The Trouble with Honesty”. Basically it’s a classic British gentleman wearing a gray suit with a yellow bowtie and a yellow umbrella clinging from his arm. He also wears a bowler hat, and speaks with a posh, old-fashioned RP British accent. When introduced, he was the orange Side, so the umbrella and bowtie were orange, but I changed it a few episodes ago. The quirk of this character is that he shares the same body with Deceit, so they use it in turns. Sometimes Deceit comes out, other times Honesty comes out. They both can speak from the same body in a Gollum fashion. Lately, the Side that is out can project a “holographic” image of the Side that is in, who can speak as if he was out, but he can’t touch anything. I hope this little summary can be of help.

And now, I leave you with the episode. If you want to read previous entries, you can find them right here. And as always, thank you to anyone following, liking, reblogging, or simply reading. You’re appreciated. Until next time.

SYNOPSIS: Honesty has been hiding something to the other Sides. Due to the fusion that happened when fighting the Dark Master long ago, Honesty is disappearing into Deceit and soon he will cease to exist. Logan has the idea of getting from the Dark Master the knowledge to revert the fusion so that he can teach it to Thomas. However, when Logan tries to steal these memories from the Dark Master, he overloads, and that makes him lose his memories of the last 20 years of his life. Thomas must find a way to restore these memories before he goes to sleep, as then it will be irreversible.

WARNINGS: There is a scene of Logan being apparently electrified, some moments of mild angst and brief moments of prinxiety. The end card is pure platonic logicality.

EPISODE INDEX

[Thomas is checking his agenda, while he also has his laptop over his legs]

THOMAS: Okay, so I have to finish writing this for today, then tomorrow I have to take that photo-shoot in the morning… then the day after tomorrow… oh, yes, I have that meeting in NYC, I almost forgot! So tomorrow evening is flight time. Ugh, I hate flying at night. And also, in the evening after the New York meeting, I have to go to see that Broadway show where my friend appears in. He invited me and I can’t miss that. And next Monday, when I’m back to Gainesville… yes, it is the first day of filming what I must finish writing today, and in the evening, I have a recording session for a new song… [sighs] You know what? In weeks like this I wish I was like Deceit. No, I don’t mean a good liar to invent the excuse that I’m sick to stay in bed all week. I mean that I’d wish to have six arms like him to do all these things at the same time… although the thing about being sick is an idea too…

[intro sequence]

THOMAS: What is up, everybody? Yes, it is a very busy week for me. But apart from all of that, I must also dedicate all the free moments I have to spend time with my Sides, trying to find a way to turn Roman back into a Light Side. I mean, we love him in any form he has, but since he turned into a Dark Side, that has affected my creativity. It’s getting increasingly difficult to create things, as if Roman had more difficulty as a Dark Side to let himself get carried away in the creative process. And it also doesn’t help how much he misses Virgil, that distracts him so much. And Virgil isn’t having a good time either. Not only because of the stress I’m feeling in the past few days with so many things to do at the same time. He also misses Roman, and that heightens him, and therefore makes me feel anxious like in the times when Virgil was a Dark Side. [sighs] I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to make it through it all.

PATTON: [rising up] Of course you will, kiddo. You just have to believe in yourself, and in your own capacities. You can do this!

THOMAS: Thanks for the encouragement, Patton, I really appreciate it, but… this is getting really hard.

ROMAN: [rising up] Thomas, nobody said that the road to fame and glory would be swift and easy. Remember that line from that movie? “You want fame? Well fame costs, and here is where you start paying, in sweat.”

THOMAS: I never wanted fame for the sake of fame, Roman. I’m contented with just living off my acting and singing and making people happy, that’s all.

VIRGIL: [rising up] In fact, I think the idea of getting more and more famous is one of the things that heightens me most. You don’t even want to consider yourself famous at all, as if denying the fact that your fan base is scattered all around the globe and could fill several dozens of soccer stadiums. I mean, you have millions of fans all over the world, all ready to see anything you come out with as soon as you release it, and you don’t consider that “fame”?

THOMAS: [nervous giggle and anxious face] Thanks for getting me more stressed, Virge. I’m glad to see that, despite the circumstances, your skills are still on point.

VIRGIL: Sorry, Thomas.

LOGAN: [rising up] Thomas, the key to avoid getting too stressed over a huge load of work is carefully planning your activities. We’ve talked about this several times already, remember?

THOMAS: Yes, I know, but… when you have so many things in your head at the same time, it gets so difficult to plan everything. Especially when you add your “Master” responsibilities. Ugh, I still don’t like using that word to refer to myself.

HONESTY: [rising up] You should not do that, however. Remember that the first step in getting to know your powers is accepting them as part of who you are, and that includes embracing your nature as the Light Master of your Mind Palace.

THOMAS: Yes, I know, Honesty, but I… [suddenly realizing Honesty’s out] Oh, hello, Honesty. How are you doing? It’s been ages.

HONESTY: Why does everyone tell me that every time I show up?

THOMAS: You don’t show up much often lately, and the other Sides don’t see you either. Even Deceit is starting to worry, cause you stay out of reach even for him now.

HONESTY: Well, I do also have a right to disappear every once in a while, don’t I?

VIRGIL: Disappear every once in a while? More like appear every once in a while.

ROMAN: But why do you want to disappear, though? Have we done something wrong or…?

HONESTY: No, no, no! Of course not! There’s nothing wrong between us! However, you’re asking it as if I was leaving you behind for good. Guys, I’m still here, I’m fine and I still love you all. Stop worrying so much about me.

THOMAS: Okay, okay, as you wish. You’re your own Side… well, not completely now, but we still appreciate you the same. I hope you remember that.

HONESTY: Of course I do, and, like I said, I do appreciate all of you too. But seriously, don’t overact on this. I’m fine, and I’ll keep on being fine.

PATTON: As for me, I miss our afternoons of tea and cookies. It’s been ages since we had the last one.

HONESTY: I miss them too, Patton. I promise that soon we’ll have another one… [suddenly concerned] but now, if you excuse me, I gotta go.

THOMAS: What? So soon?

HONESTY: Yeah, sorry, I have… something to do.

THOMAS: But…

HONESTY: Bye, gentlemen!

[there’s a yellow flash around Honesty and when it disappears, Deceit is in his place, he shows a face of utter confusion]

DECEIT: How… how did I get here?

THOMAS: What? You don’t know?

DECEIT: [sarcastic] If I knew, I would certainly ask, don’t you think?

PATTON: Well, basically Honesty was here. Then, he said he had to go, and then you appeared in his place.

DECEIT: What? Honesty came out?

ROMAN: That line would sound so stupid out of context, bearing in my mind we all have been out for so long…

DECEIT: Why didn’t I sense him?

LOGAN: You don’t remember anything of what Honesty has done?

DECEIT: No, nothing at all. I was in my room, and then, the next moment, I was here with you.

LOGAN: This is disconcerting. Something doesn’t seem to be right with you two, even though Honesty tries to deny it.

DECEIT: Wait, wait. We’re talking about the same Honesty, right? I am the liar of the group. Honesty would never tell a lie, at least not without a good reason, would he?

LOGAN: Well, that’s how it should be, but, too many things have happened lately with you two and we still don’t know the effects they had on you two in the long term. Maybe something’s happening with Honesty and he doesn’t want to tell us.

THOMAS: Great, as if I didn’t have enough things to worry about, now this.

DECEIT: Do you think Honesty is endangered somehow because he had to get fused back with me? That would kill me. It’s my fault that he had to renounce to his body after all.

LOGAN: My advice is that you bring him out, Deceit, so he can tell us what’s going on.

DECEIT: Okay, I’ll try, but as I told you, I don’t sense him, so I don’t know if it’s going to work.

[Deceit points at the empty space where Honesty usually appears. Nothing happens]

DECEIT: I’ll try again.

[Deceit points again, and still nothing happens]

THOMAS: How can this be? He was talking to us just a minute ago, and now he’s out of reach? Could he be in autopilot?

DECEIT: No, that cannot be. We can’t get in autopilot if one of us doesn’t want to be, and I’m not in autopilot.

THOMAS: You’re right, Honesty told me long ago. Then, I don’t know. If only we could go to find him in the Mind Palace like we use to do with other Sides… but he’s inside of you, there’s literally nowhere we can go to to find him… because I cannot get inside Deceit’s “Mind Palace”, can I?

LOGAN: No, Thomas, I’m afraid not. We’re not complex human beings, we’re more simple aspects. We’re not developed enough to hold a Mind Palace inside each of ourselves.

VIRGIL: Also, you’re not a Russian doll to have spaces inside of spaces inside of spaces.

LOGAN: Of course he’s not a Russian doll. He’s a human being, and he’s American. Inside of him there are only his organs.

VIRGIL: [sighs, then frustrated] Will there ever come a time when I, among all Sides, can say a metaphor of any kind and you don’t take it literally, Logan?

PATTON: But wouldn’t he look cute as a doll, Russian or otherwise?

DECEIT: Logan, I think I have an idea. Could you get a grasp of my memories like you did long ago? When you did the opposite, showing Honesty your memories, you unlocked the block between us. Maybe it could work again.

LOGAN: I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Deceit. Remember that the last time, we almost lost you.

DECEIT: But that was because I was a Dark Side and I was corrupting Honesty. Now, we’re both Light Sides and therefore there’s no chance for corruption. What could go wrong?

VIRGIL: Usually, when someone asks that question is the exact moment when things start going wrong…

THOMAS: Dee, this could be risky.

DECEIT: I know, Thomas, but even so, I wanna take the risk. Please, Logan. Check my memories. If nothing is unlocked, at least you could find out something useful.

LOGAN: [sighs] Okay, if you’re sure… [approaches Deceit and puts his hand on Deceit’s chest] Here we go.

[Logan starts shaking as if he was being electrified while Deceit looks at him expectantly. After a few moments, Logan takes his hand off and returns to his spot]

LOGAN: [concerned] Oh, my goodness…

DECEIT: [scared] What? What did you see?

LOGAN: I didn’t expect to see that.

DECEIT: [anxious] What? What?

LOGAN: I saw Deceit’s and Honesty’s memories of the last months and I saw everything about the issue. It all started with the fusion of Honesty into you. When he blew up his own body to get into you and overthrow the Dark Master that was possessing you… something happened to him. I’m positive that you know how his key color changed from orange to yellow.

DECEIT: Yes.

LOGAN: That was not the only thing that changed. Honesty has literally fused partially with you. Now it’s not that there are two aspects in the same body. Now these aspects are stuck and mixed together, sharing functions, as if you were Siamese brothers. And the worst is…

DECEIT: [very anxious] Finish already!

PATTON: Easy, Deecey, don’t jump into the… highway to Hell just yet!

DECEIT: It’s not a moment for jokes now, Patton! Logan, come on!

LOGAN: The worst is… like the more time goes on, the more you two are fusing into one single aspect at all. Soon, there will be only one of you at all.

DECEIT: But I thought, being Light Sides, we couldn’t corrupt each other!

LOGAN: This is not corruption. It’s not like the other time when one Side was destroying the other. What is happening now is that all the essence of one Side is joining the other Side. Have you recently felt a change in your behavior of some kind?

DECEIT: I don’t know…

THOMAS: I do, though. The other day, when Virgil and I went looking for you into your room, when we were leaving you said “after you, gentlemen”, just like Honesty usually speaks, even with the British accent.

PATTON: And now I remember another time, when you said you had to go to your room to do “something”, in a cryptic way. What was that something, Deceit, and why didn’t you want to tell us?

DECEIT: Well, it was nothing special. It’s just that I wanted to make some tea and I was ashamed of saying it, because I’m not good at it and I didn’t want you to try it before I could practice, so… [sudden face of concern] Wait. I never liked tea! Unless it was served with Patton’s cookies… those were the only times I could enjoy it, because I liked the taste of his cookies mixed with the tea. And now I was making tea to drink it alone on my own? What is going on?

THOMAS: Then Logan is right. It’s happening. Those are traits that belonged to Honesty, and now you’re acquiring them as your own.

DECEIT: What’s gonna happen if this process continues?

LOGAN: You already know what’s gonna happen. When the process is completed, Honesty’s consciousness will cease to exist and you will take his place in everything he used to do as a Side. Basically, Honesty will be no more.

DECEIT: [horrified] Oh, no…

LOGAN: And I’ve seen Honesty knows. He has raised a barrier around himself, like a hermetic egg that separates him from the rest of you, trying to stop the process. It works partially. The process is going really slow when he’s inside that barrier, but not completely so the fusion is still eventually going to happen. He only comes out from time to time, because sometimes the barrier gets weak and he needs to get out to recharge it from the outside. When the barrier is fully charged and he closes it around him, it is completely hermetic and he can’t sense anything from us when he’s inside. If it gets weak, he starts feeling us and that’s the signal he uses to get out and recharge. When he has to get out, he takes advantage of the memory lock mechanism that you two had in the old days when you didn’t know that each other was inside of you and forgot what the other did while he was out. That mechanism was still there in you. Back then it was just triggered when you changed places without control, but now Honesty has decided to use it on purpose so that you didn’t know what he was doing when he was charging the barrier. And as I’ve seen in his memories, he’s been hiding everything from us because he doesn’t want to worry us or be a burden, especially now that we have the problem with Roman. He doesn’t want to distract us from fixing Roman’s problem.

DECEIT: My goodness… and this is all my fault. If only I had been smarter and didn’t let the Dark Master trick me, Honesty wouldn’t have had to fuse with me to fix my mistakes.

THOMAS: It’s not your fault, it’s the Dark Master’s fault. We didn’t blame Roman when he tricked him. Why would we blame you?

ROMAN: I know the feeling, Deceit. Don’t get carried away by it. Trust me, it will only hurt you and you would get nothing in return other than pain and sorrow. However, Honesty shouldn’t have hidden this from us. My problem is nothing compared to his. Light or Dark, I’ll be okay, but he… he could… We gotta do something to help him! Now I feel guilty too, because he’s hiding this because of me!

DECEIT: Yes, but what can we do? Perhaps if I change places with him? No, I’ve tried and his block doesn’t let me do it.

LOGAN: Yes, and he placed the block without saying a word to you precisely to stop you from doing that, because if you changed places, the process would take the opposite way. Honesty would absorb you and you would cease to exist, and he doesn’t want that. I’ve seen in his memories that he prefers to disappear himself rather than seeing you disappear, because he feels a deep fraternal love for you. He considers you his brother and is willing to sacrifice himself to save you from his destiny.

DECEIT: [emotional] I… I do love him too as if he was my brother. In a way, I think we really are brothers, both physically and emotionally. No one knows him better than me and no one knows me better than him, for obvious reasons. He’s the only one in this world I could never ever tell a lie, not only because I could never deceive him, as he knows all my memories, but also because I couldn’t find it in my heart to deceive him… And yet he’s taken me aside of his problems when he needed me most. Gosh, he’s going through so much and he’s going through it all alone… I must do anything it takes to save him. Isn’t there any way to revert the process?

LOGAN: The only thing that comes to my mind is Thomas.

THOMAS: Me? What can I do?

LOGAN: The Dark Master managed to create a full body of his own for Deceit when he was about to fade away. Maybe you can do it too if you learn how to do it.

THOMAS: So much pressure… I feel like such a failure for not knowing how to do what you say that I can do.

LOGAN: Not knowing something is not a failure, Thomas. Neither it is not being able to learn that something on the first, second, third or whatever number of tries. The failure would be not being willing to try, and if there’s one thing you’re always willing to do is trying to learn.

THOMAS: You’re right on that, Logan. I love learning new things and I always do my best on that. I won’t do any different this time. I’m ready when you’re ready, Logan.

LOGAN: I knew you would say that and I’m proud of you, Thomas. Then, it’s time for you to learn how to be the Light Master. The problem is… that none of us know how to teach you at all or who could teach you.

THOMAS: Then we’re right back to where we started. How am I supposed to start learning if I don’t even know what and how should I learn?

DECEIT: [frustrated] Dang it! We’re on a dead end. And it’s all because of the Dark Master! That… father of a virgin! For him it was so easy to use these abilities. I wish we could grab him, steal all of his knowledge and transmit it to Thomas.

LOGAN: Hey! That is an excellent idea, Deceit.

DECEIT: What? I was only venting… Can we do that?

LOGAN: Yes, I think we can, thanks to Roman.

ROMAN: Me? How?

LOGAN: At this moment, the Dark Master is trapped in Sandersia as a fragment of his former self that has taken the shape of a Sandersian to keep on existing. He has some power, but not enough to be a danger, especially now that Remus’ black cauldron is safe again behind the barrier in his room and you are alert of his existence. If we could get to the Dark Master, you could use your Creativity powers to hold him still while I get all of his memories, like I just did with Deceit. Then, with that knowledge at my disposal, I could assume my role as teacher and properly teach Thomas how to use his Master powers.

ROMAN: That… could work. But couldn’t it be dangerous? We’re talking about absorbing the knowledge of an entity that is pure evil, even if now he’s incapacitated. Couldn’t that have some sort of secondary effects on you?

LOGAN: You have a point, certainly. He’s neither an ordinary Side nor an ordinary Sandersian, and therefore we don’t know if there could be any secondary effects on me… But if we don’t do something soon, we could lose Honesty. And I don’t wanna lose anyone of you. Not again. It was painful enough when we lost Ira. Maybe I didn’t show it, because I struggle with showing my feelings, but it was the worst pain I ever felt in my life. I don’t wanna feel that pain again, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure I don’t lose again any of my… that is a strong word but I can’t think of anything else to describe it… of my loved ones. I have the intention of saving Honesty, then help you and Virgil get reunited permanently and then carry on with our lives as it should be. I don’t care what happens to me.

[Roman tears up, then approaches Logan and hugs him. Logan shows a face of shock and starts blushing. He’s so stunned that he doesn’t hug Roman back]

ROMAN: You’re already teaching me a lesson, Logan. A lesson of bravery, loyalty and friendship. You would make such a great prince indeed… I never realized how much I admire and love you despite how different we are.

LOGAN: [nervous] This is a little overwhelming… I’m not accustomed to this kind of signs of affection…

ROMAN: [making a gesture of stepping back] Oh, I’m sor…

LOGAN: [hugging Roman back] However, I think I could get accustomed to this quickly.

[Roman smiles and squeezes Logan a little bit in the hug. Then Deceit, Virgil and Patton join in a group hug]

THOMAS: I’m so proud of you, Logan. But we don’t want anything bad happening to you. Are you sure you want to go through this?

LOGAN: [heartwarming smile] Yes. Whatever it takes so that we can repeat these group hugs more often… [suddenly nervous] Uh… for scientific reasons, of course.

THOMAS: [smirk] Of course.

[everyone returns to their own spot]

ROMAN: Okay, if you’ve made up your mind, let’s get down to business… to def…

LOGAN: Roman, please, not again.

ROMAN: You’re right, sorry. It’s not the time for Mulan lyrics right now. What’s the plan?

LOGAN: When you were fused, Romulus said that no one could escape from him while they were in Sandersia. I presume the same happens with you, Roman.

ROMAN: Yes, that’s right. I never meddle in any Sandersian’s life, but if I wanted, I could find them no matter where they were and bring them to my presence.

LOGAN: That means you could find the Dark Master anywhere he was and bring him wherever you want.

ROMAN: Yes.

LOGAN: And then you could trap him and stop him from running away.

ROMAN: I mean, you said it yourself, we’re talking about the Dark Master. I don’t know how much power I could have over him. But if he was subjected to the rules of Sandersia as any other Sandersian, I could.

LOGAN: That’s exactly the plan. We go somewhere in Sandersia, you force the Dark Master to show up, then trap him so that he can’t move and I get his memories.

ROMAN: And then, what do we do with him?

LOGAN: Well, I’d be happy to get rid of him for all eternity, but unfortunately, we need him inside the Mind Palace, you know why.

ROMAN: Yes, I think I’ll never forget why.

LOGAN: After we’re done, you expel him as far away as you can and we return home and start training Thomas.

ROMAN: Sounds like a plan. Are you sure you’re ready to do this?

LOGAN: As sure as I’ll ever be, Roman.

DECEIT: Well, then what are we waiting for? Let’s do it. Off to Sandersia!

[Thomas and the Sanders Sides sink down into Roman’s room, then they enter into Sandersia. They walk a couple of miles away from the door until they stop]

ROMAN: Well, this place looks as good as any to start working. Are you guys ready? Especially you, Logan. As I told you, I don’t know if this will work and if it does I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold him. Be ready to do your thing as soon as I get him.

LOGAN: I’m ready when you’re ready, Roman.

THOMAS: Be careful, guys.

ROMAN: Okay. Let’s go.

[Roman rises both hands. At first, nothing seems to happen, but after a couple of minutes, the Dark Master falls down from the sky, crashing in the middle of them]

PATTON: Wow… that was a hard fall… It still is, it’s November…

DARK MASTER: [rises up] Ow! That hurts! What? You? What are you doing?

[Roman points at the Dark Master without saying a word. The Dark Master tries to move, but he can’t no matter how much he struggles]

DARK MASTER: I can’t move! What is this all about? How dare you do this to me! Let me go!

LOGAN: [approaching the Dark Master] Don’t worry, we’ll let you go, as soon as I get what I need from you.

DARK MASTER: What?

[Logan sighs, and after a second of doubt, he puts his hand on the Dark Master’s chest. Then, he starts shaking. At first nothing seems to be different to what happened with Deceit, but after a moment, he starts groaning as if he was in pain]

THOMAS: Logan! Are you okay?

DARK MASTER: [face of understanding] Oh, so this is what you’re doing. [evil smirk] Let’s see if your little nerd can handle so much knowledge.

THOMAS: Something’s going wrong! Logan, step back!

LOGAN: No! Not yet! I’m not done yet! [in pain] Aw!

THOMAS: Logan, please! This isn’t normal!

[The Dark Master starts giggling with an evil face]

DARK MASTER: Leave him alone, Thomas! He wants knowledge and he’s ready to pay the cost of that knowledge!

THOMAS: The cost…? What cost?

LOGAN: I’m… almost done… but I… I don’t know if I can hold on.

THOMAS: Please, Logan, don’t overdo yourself. I don’t want you to put your life on risk!

[suddenly, Deceit transforms into Honesty]

HONESTY: Logan! What are you doing!? I felt a huge force that crossed my barrier! What is going on!?

LOGAN: Honesty? I’m doing this for you! I’m getting the knowledge to save you from disappearing!

HONESTY: Then you know… But I don’t want you to be endangered because of me!

LOGAN: [struggling voice] Just… a little… more…

[suddenly, lightning sparks are seen all around Logan’s body]

LOGAN: I’m… overloading… I must let go… [tries to get his hand off] I can’t… My hand is stuck!

HONESTY: [scared] Logan!

[The Dark Master shows an ominous smile]

LOGAN: [with a voice of pain] Help me…

THOMAS: [running to Logan] I’m going, Logan!

[Thomas approaches Logan and tries to hold him, but as soon as he touches him, there’s a huge spark and he pulls his hands back in pain]

THOMAS: Ow! I got shocked! I can’t touch him!

HONESTY: Deceit can get him with his gloves! I’ll send him to you!

[Honesty changes to Deceit]

DECEIT: What’s happening!?

THOMAS: Quickly, Deceit, get Logan off the Dark Master! You’ll be protected thanks to your gloves!

DECEIT: Okay!

[Deceit grabs Logan. The gloves protect him, but he can’t move Logan]

LOGAN: [weak voice] Please… help me…

[Logan faints, and the Dark Master laughs evilly]

DECEIT: [scared] Logan! [struggling and yelling while he pulls with all his might] Nnnngggghhhaaaaaaaa!!!!

[finally he manages to unstick Logan off the Dark Master, and they both fall to the ground. The sparks surround Logan for a couple of seconds more until they fade away]

DARK MASTER: [with an evil smirk] Well, that surely was an electrifying experience! Does anyone else want to feel it?

ROMAN: [angry] Just shut up, you monster!

[Roman moves his arm and the Dark Master is propelled away until he gets lost in the distance, then Thomas and the Sides go to check on Logan]

THOMAS: Logan? Logan, say something, please.

LOGAN: [unconscious] Nnggghh…

PATTON: Logan… please, wake up…

[Logan opens his eyes]

LOGAN: Where… where am I?

DECEIT: [hugging Logan] Thank goodness, Logan! Are you okay?

LOGAN: [confused and uncomfortable] Do… do I know you from somewhere? And how do you know my name?

DECEIT: [stops hugging him] What? What do you mean?

THOMAS: Logan, what are you saying? Don’t you remember us?

LOGAN: I… I’m confused. Is that you, Thomas? I do remember you, but… you’re so old now… I also remember Princey, although I had never seen him with that outfit before, and certainly not so tall. [pointing at Patton, Virgil and Deceit] Who are these other people, though?

PATTON: Logan, don’t you remember me? It’s me, Patton!

LOGAN: I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen you in my life.

PATTON: Guys, this is not good.

THOMAS: Wait a second, guys, let’s not panic. What is the last thing you remember, Logan?

LOGAN: [rising up] Well, you were studying for your Math test. You know, the one with algebraic fractions. Don’t tell me you didn’t pass it. We worked so hard on it.

THOMAS: That… that was when I was in school, Logan. I’m 30 years old now. It’s been nearly two decades since then, I’ve even graduated as a chemical engineer in college. Have you forgotten the last 20 years of our life?

LOGAN: That can’t be, Thomas. That doesn’t follow logically. You, a chemical engineer? You were always headed towards dramatic arts and music.

THOMAS: And I work in that now, but I did graduate with a bachelor degree of science. Besides, how would you explain logically that I’m suddenly a grown up adult? No wonder you only remember Roman. Back then, he and you were the only Sides that had appeared before me, not counting Virgil, because he only appeared sporadically at that time and I think you didn’t get to meet him up until later. But I did mention him to you. Remember Anxiety?

LOGAN: Oh, so that is Anxiety? Nice to meet you at last, Anxiety. I’m Logic. Thomas has mentioned you so much.

VIRGIL: [confused] Yeah… sure… Nice to… meet you… too, I guess.

LOGAN: Is he always so eloquent, Thomas?

THOMAS: Forgive him, he’s… shy.

VIRGIL: What?

[Thomas makes a gesture to Virgil asking him to play along]

VIRGIL: Oh, uh… yes… I am, sorry.

LOGAN: It’s okay, nobody’s perfect, as Princey can attest.

[Roman emits some offended Princey noises]

THOMAS: Patton appeared later on, that’s why you don’t know him at all. And Deceit, back then, was a Dark Side that hadn’t shown up yet. Not anymore, though.

LOGAN: I see… And you’re saying that I know all these people and I have forgotten them? But, how could this happen?

THOMAS: It’s a long story, really long if it covers 20 years… How are we going to restore your memories back?

ROMAN: I knew there were going to be secondary effects, but I didn’t expect this.

LOGAN: Well, if you say that there’s 20 years of my life that I don’t remember, obviously you don’t have time to tell me all of that, unless you can live without working and therefore without food and health care, not to mention sleep, rent, et cetera, for the next two decades.

ROMAN: Yes, Teach, we had figured that out already.

LOGAN: Luckily for you, and for me, I guess… there’s a way to restore my memories.

THOMAS: How?

LOGAN: I’m your acquired knowledge, Thomas. If my memories were truly gone, they would be gone from you as well. As you seem to remember everything that I don’t, that means that my memories are still inside of me somewhere, only that, for one reason or another, they’re blocked from me and I can’t reach them. If you find a way to break the block, these memories would return to me.

THOMAS: Sweet. And how do we break that block.

LOGAN: Well, I need a memory that is strong enough to break the block, but you mustn’t tell me. I have to make the effort to find it out for myself with some clues you give me. For instance, take me to places I used to know, or give me things that you think they could help. Things like these.

THOMAS: I think I get it. Stimulating your memory can make these lost memories return to your mind naturally. Well, then I think we have no time to waste. Let’s return to Roman’s room.

LOGAN: Okay… by the way, what is this place?

ROMAN: This is…

PATTON: Don’t tell him, Roman. Give him clues so that he can remember by himself.

ROMAN: Oh, right. [choosing his words carefully] Well, it’s a place… um… where we have been several times already. It is connected to my room and it’s populated with, uh… characters created by Thomas and me.

[Logan looks at Roman with a blank stare]

THOMAS: Anything, Logan?

LOGAN: Nope, sorry, I got nothing at all.

ROMAN: Well, here is where Virgil… I mean, Anxiety, and I… lived the most important day in our lives. And you were there to witness it.

LOGAN: The most important day in your lives? Like what?

ROMAN: Another clue… that day I wore a royal outfit with seven gems on my chest representing the seven colors of the rainbow, which also represented each one of you close to my heart.

LOGAN: Each one of us? Seven gems? But there are only four people here other than Thomas and me. Who are the other two? I don’t remember them at all.

ROMAN: [sighs] It’s pointless. Our wedding and Sandersia clearly are not gonna help him regain his memories. We need something stronger.

LOGAN: Wedding? So you and Anxiety got married? My congratulations to you. I would have liked to see it.

VIRGIL: You saw it, Logan. You saw it. [sighs] Let’s go back home and look for something else.

DECEIT: But we better hurry. I don’t know if we’ve got much time.

THOMAS: Why are you saying that?

DECEIT: Guys, now I’m feeling Honesty. And that means that his barrier has got broken, perhaps by the energy unleashed while Logan… you know. And that means… the clock is counting for Honesty.

THOMAS: Why, you should have told us sooner!

LOGAN: I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I was going to tell you that, indeed, we haven’t got much time.

THOMAS: I’m afraid to ask. Why are you saying that?

LOGAN: Well, Thomas, you must restore my memories before you go to bed tonight.

THOMAS: And why is that?

LOGAN: Because if by that time my memories are not accessible, they will be deleted when the memory reorganization process happens while you sleep. And that means that you will forget everything that I have forgotten, and all the other Sides too. And it will be irreversible.

THOMAS: Then I mustn’t sleep, by any means. No sleep tonight. Jeez… Fanders would kill me if they heard me saying this.

LOGAN: Well, that would buy you some time, but it’s not realistic to think that you will resist much time without sleep. You could get an extra day, two at most, but the more time you spend with sleep deprivation, the worst we will work and the lesser the chances that I get my memories back. And eventually you will fall asleep anyway, whether you like it or not, and everything will be lost.

THOMAS: I’m sure it’s not so bad. I can resist sleep for as long as I want.

LOGAN: [calm] Falsehood.

DECEIT: Well, glad to see that that part of him remains okay.

VIRGIL: The one time that I’m in a safe distance from him when he says “falsehood”, and he decides not to screech it. I wonder if he likes the idea of me getting deaf on that ear, or something.

THOMAS: Okay. Then there’s no time to waste. Let’s go back home already.

LOGAN: Lead the way, then. I have no idea where to go.

THOMAS: Just follow us, Logan.

LOGAN: And as I said before, how do you know my real name?

THOMAS: It’s a long story.

[Thomas and the Sides start walking to the door to Roman’s room. Midway, Honesty appears]

HONESTY: Don’t stop walking, I will follow you.

DECEIT: Honesty. Why did you hide your problem from us?

HONESTY: I didn’t want to be a nuisance. You were busy enough already trying to help Roman.

ROMAN: Don’t put me as an excuse, Honesty. Your trouble started before I turned into a Dark Side, and even if it didn’t, you are in more danger than me. I can perfectly wait until you’re safe and sound.

HONESTY: Okay, fair enough. It’s just that…

DECEIT: What is it?

HONESTY: You went through so much, Deceit. I didn’t want you to fall apart again because of me. It was so hard to get you out of the pit you had fallen into. I didn’t want you to suffer again because of me.

DECEIT: And you pushed me aside, just like that. How am I supposed to take that, Hon? Do I have to infer that you consider me weak and worthless? That you don’t trust in me having any strength of my own to cope with issues? Because that offends me. I may have had a time of weakness, but I’m here now, that should say something. And what does that say about you? You’re Honesty, you’re not supposed to lie. Lies are my job. Even white lies are in my department.

HONESTY: You know it would never be my intention to belittle you, Dee.

DECEIT: [angry] Then don’t belittle me! If you had been honest from the beginning, maybe we would have been able to help you sooner. And maybe you wouldn’t be on risk of disappearing now. [switching to a sad, but still angry voice] Like I said earlier. No one knows me better than you and no one knows you better than me. But this is the first time since we became friends that I have felt like I don’t know you, and I don’t like it. You were the only person in this world I could never tell a lie. You still are. And yet you lied to me, because a lie of omission is a lie too. And it hurts, because I love you and I don’t want to lose you.

HONESTY: I’m so sorry, Dee. It’s just that… I didn’t know how to react when I felt what was happening to me. I only knew I didn’t want you going through any kind of pain. And I obviously made the wrong choice because I have hurt you. I’m terribly sorry. It’s a shame that one of us always has to stay in hologram form now, because I really need a make up hug right now, and I can’t touch you. Please forgive me.

DECEIT: [sighs] I’m not mad at you, I’m just scared for your safety. Just promise me that you will never do something like this again, and we’ll be even. If something ever bothers you again, even in the slightest, I wanna be the first in line to know. Promised?

HONESTY: Promised. From now on, I will never leave you out of my problems. That’s what friends are for, and we are friends. Because we’re still friends, right?

[Deceit stops walking and Honesty does the same. Deceit looks at Honesty right in the eye]

DECEIT: Even more than that.

HONESTY: What?

DECEIT: I do consider you my brother too, Hon. That’s why I’ll do everything I can to save you.

HONESTY: [emotional] Thank you… dear brother.

ROMAN: [calling them from a distance] Guys, are you coming with us?

DECEIT: [starts walking again] Sorry, Roman. We were just bonding as brothers.

HONESTY: True, true.

ROMAN: Glad to hear that, but we gotta go.

[The gang keeps on walking. Soon they reach Roman’s room]

ROMAN: Does this place look familiar to you, Logan?

LOGAN: No, sorry. Nothing looks familiar to me.

ROMAN: Didn’t think so. I didn’t let you into my room until much later than what you remember.

HONESTY: Maybe if we go to Logan’s room, something there could inspire his memory?

VIRGIL: It’s worth a shot.

[Everybody sinks down, then they rise up in Logan’s room]

DECEIT: Well, Logan?

LOGAN: Who did redecorate my room?

THOMAS: What?

LOGAN: I mean, I used to have a student desk chair in my spot, where I could sit to listen to the teacher.

THOMAS: Logan… you are the teacher now. So, I guess it was you who redecorated everything.

LOGAN: Oh, that makes sense. I couldn’t keep being a student for 20 years, could I?

THOMAS: But what do you eventually think about your room, Logan?

LOGAN: Well, despite my initial reaction, I think it is… adequate.

THOMAS: And did any new memory come to you at all?

LOGAN: Sorry, Thomas.

THOMAS: Okay… Let’s try something else…

PATTON: Maybe if I show him this… [takes his cat hoodie off and shows it to Logan] What do you think about this, Logan? I never take it off because I really love it.

LOGAN: Um… good for you, I guess. I’m glad that you like felines.

PATTON: It’s not just that I like cats. It’s just that this hoodie makes me feel warm.

LOGAN: Well, that’s the purpose of any outerwear, or any garment in general, to protect you from the harness of the elements, specifically cold temperatures in this case.

PATTON: It’s not that the hoodie is soft and warm, which it is, by the way. It makes me feel warm because it was given to me by someone very dear to me, someone that I hold deep in my heart. Someone I look up to and respect very much, for his wittiness and his kindness.

LOGAN: [unsettled] Please… Patton, it was? I’d thank you if you stop. If there’s one thing I don’t like at all is feelings. I don’t have them, so I don’t understand them, and things that I don’t understand don’t have a place in me at all. It’s good that you know someone so nice, whoever it is, but I’d prefer if you keep their description to yourself, or at least avoid talking about feelings in front of me.

PATTON: [with a face of sadness and sorrow] O… okay, sorry Logan. I didn’t mean to bother you. Guys, this won’t work either, I’m sorry…

VIRGIL: [a little mad at Logan] How can you not remember that hoodie? It was given to Patton by…

PATTON: [interrupting Virgil] It’s okay, son, don’t tell him. It’s not his fault that he can’t remember and I don’t want to make him feel bad about it, it would be useless.

VIRGIL: As you wish, dad.

LOGAN: [confused and slightly worried face] I’m… I’m confused. If I have offended you somehow, Patton, I apologize.

PATTON: [with an over the top smile] Don’t worry, Logan. Let’s just focus on finding something else.

VIRGIL: [knowing very well what that over the top smile means, looking at Patton with a slightly worried and emotional face] Yeah, let’s.

DECEIT: Maybe if we take the route to the things he likes, we could click on something.

THOMAS: Good idea. Maybe… that course that I couldn’t take yet, because I’ve been busy as heck. But I promised I would take it for you, and I will.

LOGAN: Good. I love that you are willing to learn something, Thomas.

THOMAS: Do you have any clue of what course I am talking about? It’s about something you really enjoy.

[Roman starts humming the tune of the song “Stars” from “Les Miserables” trying to give Logan an extra clue]

LOGAN: Please, Roman, do not interrupt us with sing-songy-make-believe music. You know I hate theater.

ROMAN: Look, one thing you remembered!

LOGAN: Sorry to disappoint, but me hating theater is one of the memories that I didn’t lose, I have always hated theater since childhood. I just don’t get it.

THOMAS: Stay with me, Logan.

LOGAN: I didn’t move from here, Thomas.

THOMAS: It was an expression… Whatever. Do you remember anything about the course I was talking about?

LOGAN: [a little frustrated] I… I’m sorry, Thomas, I’m afraid this won’t work either. I don’t know what you are talking about.

THOMAS: [sighs] We’re wasting time. Nothing seems to work at all.

PATTON: Maybe we should take a break, to lift our spirits up and refresh ourselves to keep on looking. I could bring some cookies if you want.

THOMAS: No, it will be better if we all stay here, in Logan’s corner. If we can’t bring his memories back here, I don’t think we’ll have any better luck anywhere else. But we certainly need a break, because we are totally blocked.

LOGAN: I’m terribly sorry, guys. For some reason I can sense that there’s an urgent need to bring my memories back, but there’s nothing I can do.

THOMAS: It’s okay, Logan. It’s not your fault.

LOGAN: Maybe if we take some soft drinks or a snack, as Patton suggested, we could feel refreshed and ready to start over again. I’ll go check what’s on the fridge.

THOMAS: Okay, Logan, it’s your room. Do as you want.

[Logan goes to the fridge and opens it. After a few moments of checking its contents, something calls his attention]

LOGAN: What’s this?

THOMAS: What?

LOGAN: [returning to his spot] It’s a jar of what looks like some kind of berry marmalade. Its label reads… “Crofter’s Organic”. Is this my face drawn on it? What’s this? I had never seen this thing in my life.

ROMAN: Logan must be really out of it if he can’t even remember Crofter’s.

THOMAS: [his face lightens up as if having an idea] Why don’t you try it, Logan? See if you like it.

LOGAN: I don’t think so, jelly is disgusting for me.

[every Side in the room shows a face of utter shock and disbelief upon hearing these words, Roman even gasps loudly]

THOMAS: Just for scientific reasons, as you like to say. Maybe you could be surprised.

LOGAN: Okay, if you insist, but I don’t see how this could be of help at all.

[Logan invokes a spoon, takes a spoonful of Crofter’s and gets it into his mouth. Suddenly, he shows a face of shock]

LOGAN: It… it’s delicious… this Crofter’s…

THOMAS: Do you like it?

LOGAN: Like it? LIKE IT!? I LOVE THIS!

[Logan starts devouring the whole jar as he usually does. Suddenly, he stops and his body starts shaking. Some sparks appear around him, until there’s a huge flash, then he stops shaking]

THOMAS: Logan… are you okay?

LOGAN: [unconcerned] I’ll always be okay if I have my Crofter’s with me, Thomas, why are you asking?

THOMAS: So… you do remember?

LOGAN: I do? [suddenly realizing] Yes, I do! My memories are back!

[Patton shows a face of happiness, the other Sides smile]

THOMAS: Yes! I knew Crofter’s would work!

LOGAN: I’m so sorry, guys. This detour has been my fault, I should have retreated earlier when I sensed something was failing.

THOMAS: It’s okay, Logan. The important thing is… was it worthy? Did it work?

LOGAN: Yes… Unfortunately I didn’t get all of the Dark Master’s memories, but I did get enough to teach you what we need. Soon, if you follow my instructions, Honesty and Roman will be safe and sound.

DECEIT: Cool!

ROMAN: Awesome!

THOMAS: Then I guess we should start working. How do we do this?

LOGAN: It’s late now, Thomas. We’re starting tomorrow, after you finish your morning commitments and before you jump on that plane.

THOMAS: [sighs] Dee, can I borrow one of your extra arms, please?

DECEIT: No, but I wouldn’t mind the being sick excuse to gain some extra time.

THOMAS: I was just kidding back then… But Honesty, will you be okay if we wait until tomorrow? I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and find out that it’s too late.

HONESTY: Don’t worry, Thomas. I think I’ll be fine until tomorrow, the process will take a lot more time to be completed, so we have plenty of time.

THOMAS: Then, it’s settled. Tomorrow I start training. I hope I can do it.

PATTON: You can do anything you set your eyes on. And we’ll be rooting for you all the time.

[all the Sides nod in agreement with a smile]

THOMAS: Thanks, guys.

ROMAN: Well, guys, I’ll better be going. I’ve been too much time with you now and I don’t want to corrupt you.

VIRGIL: Hopefully this will be one of the last times you have to say this. I miss you so much, even if we see each other everyday for some time, each hour we’re apart hurts.

ROMAN: I miss you too, but Honesty has the priority now. When he’s safe, we’ll start thinking about me. Bye, guys. [blowing a kiss to Virgil] Bye, Virgil, I love you.

VIRGIL: Love you back, Roman. Good night.

ROMAN: It will never be a good night completely without you, Virge. [sinking down] Goodbye, my love.

VIRGIL: [sinking down] See ya tomorrow, guys.

LOGAN: Patton, don’t go just yet, I need to talk to you later, alone.

PATTON: Okay, Logan.

DECEIT: We’ll go get some rest for tomorrow, then. I can’t wait to be two separate Sides again so that I can give you that make up hug, brother.

HONESTY: Me neither. [disappearing] Bye, guys.

DECEIT: [sinking down] See you tomorrow, guys.

THOMAS: See ya, guys. I’m going too as I need to rest for tomorrow, so, until next time, take it easy, guys, gals and non binary pals. Peace out!

[end card]

[Thomas has just left. Now Logan and Patton are alone in the room]

LOGAN: Patton, I just wanted to say…

PATTON: Yes, Logan?

LOGAN: … I wanted to apologize to you again. Now I remember everything and I know exactly why I hurt you so much. I belittled your words of affection towards me and I’ve made you feel bad. So, I’m sorry.

PATTON: It’s okay, Logan. You weren’t yourself earlier. Now everything’s fine again, and that’s what matters.

LOGAN: I’m also glad to be myself again. There’s so much I had forgotten that I don’t want to forget ever again.

PATTON: Like Crofter’s. I don’t know how to take that we showed you all kinds of things related to us, and it was a jar of Crofter’s what brought your memories back. Do you care more about Crofter’s than you care about us? [faking offended voice] I’m kinda… jelly about it.

LOGAN: That’s not completely accurate, Patton. Do you want to know the reason why Crofter’s worked?

PATTON: I’m intrigued, Logan. Why?

LOGAN: You know how much I love Crofter’s. It’s because of its taste and quality, but it’s also because it’s one of the few passions in my life that I can share with all of you, guys, without exception. We all like Crofter’s, and I have so many heartwarming memories of me eating Crofter’s with you, guys. That is what unlocked my memories, the memory of me sharing Crofter’s with my friends.

PATTON: [squealing] Awww!

LOGAN: But, please, don’t tell the others. It is a little overwhelming for me to share my feelings, as you know and I… I don’t know how to do it. It makes me feel awkward and I just don’t want to make a fool of myself.

PATTON: But Logan, you mustn’t be afraid of sharing your feelings. It’s part of who you are. And we love you just the way you are. And trust me, sharing your feelings with us would never make us see you as a fool. On the contrary, we know how much you struggle with expressing your feelings, and we would appreciate you even more. Don’t ever be afraid of being yourself, cause you being yourself is the reason why we love you.

LOGAN: I’ll try. Do you know what has been the best thing coming out from this mess?

PATTON: What is it?

LOGAN: That I got to experiment again the honest feeling of trying Crofter’s for the first time.

PATTON: Good for you, Logan. Do you want me to bring some Maria biscuits so we can spread some Crofter’s on them?

LOGAN: That would be a satisfactory experience, Patton.

[poachedhazontoast]

Break Free

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Brian May x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating, pretty angsty at the beginning, not proofread because it’s 2 AM and I’ve been staring at this for waaaay too long.

Summary: Y/N finally ends the relationship that she’s felt stuck in for years, and Brian is there to pick up the pieces (wow I still suck at summaries, would you look at that).

A/N: This is my entry for @fredthelegend ‘s writing challenge! It’s very vaguely based on I Want To Break Free, but it sort of took its own direction at some point. It took me a long-ass time to write because I kept tearing it to shreds and redoing it, and I figured I need to give it a rest now because if I don’t I will literally never be happy with it x) I hope you all like it; if you do please please please reblog it and let me know what you think! 

-Sydney

~~~

Whoever said Friday was the best day of the week had a sick sense of humor, you think to yourself as you take stock of your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You had holed yourself up in the tiny bathroom of your apartment once your throat began to burn from all the yelling. It was the same argument that you had every week, and you were seriously beginning to tire of it. Friday’s were, decidedly, the worst day for you.

“Y/N, we need to talk about this,” his voice drifts through the door and you feel your fists clench, almost involuntarily. He doesn’t say anything else for a while, and for a fleeting moment of relief you think that he’s finally gone, that you don’t have to go through this anymore. It doesn’t last long though, as a loud bang echoes through the room, making a yelp escape you. “Damn it! I’m tired of your bullshit.”

This snaps you out of your wallowing, and you’re suddenly filled with an anger that you’ve never felt before. “My bullshit?” You swing the door open, briefly registering the dull smack of the wood hitting the wall before you plant yourself in front of your boyfriend. He has one hand cradled in the other, the skin beginning to turn bright red after the assault on the bathroom door, and he has the audacity to look surprised at your outburst. “My bullshit?” You scoffed, feeling a mix of rage and heartache swirling in your stomach. “You’re the one putting your cock in other people, Darren. Don’t pin this on me.”

Sometimes you wonder how it got to this point. How the previously sweet person in front of you became somebody that you loathed six days out of seven. It genuinely didn’t start this way, and you still remember the day that Brian introduced the two of you, how enamored you were with the man. You remember the way you felt after your first date, swearing to yourself that this was it, this was who you would spend the rest of your life with. You remember gushing to Brian about him when he’d finally suggested that you found a place to live together, and the way you swore that he hung the stars in the skies above you.

You remember the first time he slept with somebody else. He was never very good at hiding it, you knew him inside and out. And despite being so angry that you couldn’t see straight, you still forgave him when he fell to his knees and wept. You forgave him again two months later when his whiskey colored eyes begged for understanding. You forgave him again the following month, when he swore you were the only one for him and he pulled out a ring to prove it. Week after week you would forgive him, insisting that it’s your own fault, that you aren’t being attentive enough, that you’re too afraid to live alone.

“I didn’t mean to. You know I didn’t mean to.” You don’t need to look at his eyes to know that they’re the size of saucers, waiting for you to succumb to their charm. “It’s just- you’re never there for me when I need you! You’re always with Brian.” You fell a squeezing sensation around your heart at the mention of your best friend, but you push it aside quickly as you have every other time. The venom that he puts behind the name sends a whole new fury rushing through you, and the force with which you glare at him causes him to falter back a step or two.

“Don’t you dare bring him into this.” You’re absolutely fuming at this point, and you’re sure that you look like a raving lunatic. You’re also sure that you don’t particularly care anymore. “He asks me every single Friday if I want to go out with him and Roger. And every single Friday I tell him that I can’t because Friday’s are our night.” Your throat begins to close around the words, and you have to continue through choked out tears. “And every. Single. Friday. You leave me hanging for your flavor of the week. I honestly don’t know why I bother anymore.”

You stand there, sobbing quietly, staring at each other for what feels like hours but could only have been minutes. There are no excuses left for him to use, no patience left for you to give. Looking at him now, with nothing but silence surrounding you, it almost feels like it did at the beginning. It only takes one glance at his eyes for you to realize that isn’t the case anymore though, and you feel your world begin to crumble as you come to terms with the fact that they hold no love in them. You fell your world begin to crumble as you come to terms with the fact that yours probably don’t, either.

Just as you begin to reach for the ring on your finger, you’re interrupted by the shrieking noise of the phone on your kitchen counter. You don’t know whether to cheer or scream. This could have been it, this could have been your chance to end it all and break the cycle. You don’t know when you’ll feel strong enough to do it again. You let the phone ring a few times, contemplating letting it run its course, but decide at the last second to pick it up.

“H-hello?” You’re struck by how shaky your voice sounds, but you’re immediately torn away from your insecurities by the voice on the other end.

“Y/N!” Brian’s voice bombards your eardrum, and you lean away from the phone slightly to adjust to the sudden barrage of noise. “I know it’s really late but I was wondering if you drive Rog and I home? He’s completely sloshed and he refuses to let me go anywhere near his car.” You twirl the cord around your finger and glance over at Darren, who’s still staring at you with a look that isn’t too far off from absolute disdain. You’ll jump at any opportunity to get out of the apartment right now, even if it means potentially pissing him off even more. “Y/N…? It’s alright if you can’t, I can just call John or Fre-“

“No!” You exclaim loudly, and you wince slightly as you hear Brian yelp. You bring your voice to an acceptable level before continuing. “No, stay there Brian, I’ll come get you. Which bar did you guys go to?” You feel Darren’s glare settle into the back of your head as you write down the name of the bar on the notepad you keep next to the phone. You knew that hearing Brian’s name would set him off, and it was with a great deal of reluctance that you set the phone back in its cradle.

“I have to go.” You quickly slip on your shoes before grabbing your coat and keys from a hook next to the kitchen. You have opened the door and are halfway through it when he finally speaks.

“If you walk through that door, I’m leaving.” You freeze in your tracks, turning around to examine his face for any sign that he’s bluffing. You can’t help but feel a slight buzz when you realize that he isn’t. This could be it. “I won’t be coming back.”

It’s now or never.

You look at him for a second longer, drinking in every bit of him, before you reach down and remove the weight that has been wrapped around your finger for far too long now. Without saying a word, you place the ring on top of the shoe cabinet next to you before turning around, slamming the door behind you as you go.

~~~

You pull up outside the bar and are immediately greeted by the unmistakable silhouette of Brian May standing against the building. You reach across the passenger seat and roll down the window, trying to quell the hammering of your heart in your chest before yelling out at him, and the grin that adorns his face when he sees you is almost enough to make up for the rest of tonight entirely. Almost.

“Hey, I thought for a second there that I was gonna have to carry this one home!” You hadn’t noticed Roger yet, but now that Brian mentioned him it was damn near impossible not to. You let out a quiet gasp and a slight giggle when you see the state that the blonde is in; his hair is flattened on one side and completely out of control on the other, his shirt has long since been discarded of, and you’re certain that he would be stammering to his defense right now if not for the fact that he’s passed out against Brian’s side. You watch silently as Brian secures the drunken man in the back of the car before settling into the passenger seat and turning to look at you for the first time tonight, trying and failing to hide the look of shock that crosses his features when he takes in your appearance. You know that you look just as bad as Roger, if not worse, and Brian would believe you to be drunk as well if he didn’t know you better. “What the hell hap-“

“Not now.” You sigh before pulling away from the curb and starting the drive back to your place. You squirm in your seat when you realize how sharp that sounded, and are quick to add onto it. “I’ll talk about it tomorrow, I promise. I’m letting you two crash at my place tonight, it’s closer.” This was your way of confirming to him what had happened without saying it out loud; he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to stay if Darren were still around.

The silence emanating throughout the car at the revelation speaks volumes. You weren’t sure how he was going to react; he had never really been the biggest fan of your boyfriend, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for the I told you so conversation. You expect him to say something, but you’re relieved when the only thing he does is reach out and wrap his hand around your thigh, resting close to your knee, squeezing gently. Your heart leaps at the gesture, and everything he could possibly say to you is contained in a single touch. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re free now.

Suddenly you’re finding it difficult to breath, and you’re overcome with affection for the man sitting next to you. The man who has been there after every fight, the man who wipes away your tears every weekend, the man that makes you feel put together when everything else is falling apart. His hand burns your skin through your sweatpants, and you silently thank yourself for remembering to put on a jacket if only because it hides the goosebumps that have formed on your arms. Every rush of adoration is met with a similar rush of guilt; you know how wrong it is to be thinking about your best friend like this, especially mere hours after you’ve broken up with your fiancé.

You’re glad when you pull into the car park outside your apartment building, as you’re not sure you could focus on the road much longer while your mind swam with thoughts of Brian and your eyes swam with unshed tears. You rest your head on the steering wheel and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to control the flow of tears coming from you. His hand moves up from your knee, causing you to stiffen slightly before he swiftly unbuckles your seatbelt and tugs on the sleeve of your jacket.

“C’mere,” he whispers gently, and it’s all you need to hear before you’re climbing over the center console and into his lap, your body curling up against his chest as you finally succumb to the sobs that have been begging to take over. “It’s okay, love. You’re okay.” He holds you as close as he can while you grip at his shirt, afraid that he’ll disappear if you let go now. You vaguely register the light kisses that he presses against your hairline over and over again, and you have to fight the urge to crane your neck and capture his lips with your own.

He doesn’t loosen his grip until your sobs turn into light sniffles, and even then it’s only to pull back enough so that he can make eye contact, resting his forehead against yours.

“What happened?” He asks the question in a tentative manner, making it clear that he won’t force you to answer anything if you don’t want to talk about it yet. You consider telling him you’re not ready yet; you’re not entirely sure that you’ll be able to talk about your failed relationship without also bringing up Darren’s rightful reservations about your friendship with him. He knew he would always be second best to Brian, and you’re not sure that you’re ready to admit that to the man himself just yet.

All you need to do is take one look at his face and all that disappears. His eyes are filled with so much care and admiration that it almost takes your breath away, and any reservations about talking to him fly out the window. You chew your lip in an anxious habit, trying to come up with some way to explain everything without letting onto how deeply you had fallen for him. He gives you a pointed look as his thumb brushes against your lip lightly, smoothing it out before letting his hand fall back to your waist, and it brings your heart rate to an all-time high.

“He cheated on me again.” Brian’s hands curl into fists at your sides, and now it’s your turn to run your hands lightly across his arms, soothing him the best you could in the slightly cramped position you were in. “He told me I spend too much time with you, and when you called he told me he would leave if I came to get you. So I took off the ring and left...” You trail off, not wanting to meet his eyes and instead focusing your eyes on the peculiar curve of his nose.

It takes a while for him to talk again, and when he does you have to strain your ears to hear what he’s saying. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know how much you love him.” His eyes dance across your jawline, and you notice the familiar tick in his that comes when he clenches his teeth.

“I don’t though. Love him, I mean.” You’re treading lightly now, coming to new territory that the two of you have never crossed together. “I did at one point, but it’s been months since I felt that way toward him. I was just afraid of not having somebody give my heart to, I think.” You play around with the words you want to say next, but you’re not sure you can spit them out. Just tell him how you feel. Your eyes finally meet his and you’re suddenly hyperaware of every small bit of contact between the two of you, from your foreheads resting together to your legs pressing into his to his hand that is slowly drawing patterns on your hip below your jacket. You can feel yourself begin to melt into his touch, and you know that you have to act now if you ever want to admit to him how you feel.

“But I realized a while ago that I don’t need to be afraid of that, because…” Panic grips you for a second, but the soothing circles that are being pressed into your hips act as an anchor to keep you from getting swept up in a sea of anxiety. You move closer to him, your lips brushing tantalizingly swiftly above his own, and you fight back a smirk of satisfaction at the tremor that runs through his body. “There has only ever been one person that holds my heart, and he’s sitting right in front of me.”

He inhales sharply before pulling back, and your blood runs cold. Embarrassment floods your system as he looks at you, really looks at you, and you tilt your head away from him to hide the tears that are beginning to spring back into your eyes. “You mean that?” He asks slowly, his voice level, not giving anything away

“Yeah…” You look at him hopefully, but he falls silent, his eyes cast downward and his brow furrowed. “God, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. Just forget I said anything.” You begin to remove yourself from his lap before you can humiliate yourself even further, but you barely lift yourself an inch before his hands are grabbing at your waist and your lips are pressed firmly against his. Your eyes widen before you register what’s happening and shut them tightly, pulling his body impossibly close to your own.

The action causes a groan to emanate from within him, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue between his lips, deepening the kiss even further. It’s intense, and it’s passionate, but it isn’t rushed. You take your time, pouring every single feeling that you’ve ever felt for him into each pass of your tongue against his, putting every bit of appreciation you’ve felt over the years into every light tug of his hair or caress of his cheek.

You could do this for hours, and you’re sure that would have ended up happening if it weren’t for the overly exaggerated gasp that came from the man that you had completely forgotten was passed out in the back of your car.

“Finally! I thought you would never get your heads out of your own arses long enough for this to happen.” You tear yourself away from Brian reluctantly before turning to the blonde, who fumbles with the door handle before tumbling out of the car. His head pops back into sight as he addresses you. “I need your house key, I think I may piss myself soon.” He takes the key from you and starts to head inside before turning back to you. “Oh, and don’t worry. I won’t tell Darren, this is our little secret.” He winks and saunters back towards the door, humming obnoxiously until he has disappeared from sight.

[veridian-nougat]

bye bye zutara week 2018!

it’s all over you guys! thanks for all of you amazing support and comments, and i swear, literally all of the content, both fics and art, was absolutely phenomenal!!

here’s my last fic for this, for the prompt element swap by @zutaraweek

for now, this is a one-shot, but i think it ends kind of abruptly so i might make it a two-shot later.

also, i'll be adding a chapter to "tattoos and turtleducks" tomorrow, so stay tuned! i’ll reblog the original post with a comment with the link, so if it’ll be in your stream if you’re following me.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571668

i know i’m in the wrong. i know that it’s my own fault that they don’t trust me. but come on, does this friggin water tribe girl have to keep an eye on me the entire night?

i’m sure she thinks i’m hostile. i did try to capture them a couple of times. okay, possibly for three years? but it was for a good reason, it really was.

i needed some sort of way to make up my heritage to my father. of course, uncle tells me i have nothing to prove to him; it’s not my fault his wife ended up having water tribe blood in her, but of course i’m the one who’s punished.

the stupid scar, too. that makes everything a million times worse. which is the whole reason i’m here in the first place.

despite father’s many qualms against me, uncle insisted i be trained in waterbending. azula, of course, got private lessons with father from the ripe age of six, but i had to be trained in secret. not that i had bad instructors, mind you; just because i was a disgrace didn’t mean father would hire anyone less than qualified, but it was rather hard getting looks of pity and disgust when father announced i was a non bender. i would never get the crown.

it’s all behind me now. i’m a master waterbender, and after finally (finally) heeding the words of uncle, i’ve decided to help the avatar learn waterbending, but of course it couldn’t be that simple.

i started off hurting one of them. not intentionally, but still bad enough. that damn earthbender girl snuck up on me, looking to investigate, but she slipped on the ice i sent her way, twisting her ankle. she can’t walk now, and can barely “see”. oops. i offered to heal it, but they not so respectfully denied. i guess i can’t blame them for that.

now the water tribe girl has me tied up to a tree. she’s sitting a few feet in front of me, not shivering at all despite the chill air. i guess she’s used to it, growing up in the south pole, but still.

i can tell that she’s epically mad at me. i can tell by the way her eyes keep shifting over to my bonds, double checking that they’re tied as tight as humanly possible. but i think she might plead my case. if i could just appeal to her, make her see my side, i know it’d earn me some points with the rest of the group. she seems to be their mom. maybe she’s a waterbender too! i could offer to help her out as well. that would work. i think.

“hey,” i start meekly. don’t want to piss her off too fast. she immediately snaps her head towards me to meet my eyes. the sudden movement throws me off my metaphorical feet for a moment. blinking once, i focus again and start making my argument.

“you know i’m not here to hurt any of you, right? i swear, my intentions are nothing but pure.” i can see the fierceness in her eyes bubble up.

“and you think we should believe you?” she’s really mad, and gets up onto her feet to make her way closer to me.

“you’ve done nothing but harm us! you were loyal to your father, and you sent people after us to kill us.” i’m starting to get scared now, but she’s just getting started.

“you think you’re so much better than us, with your fancy clothes and your posh accent and all of the babying you had as a kid. what, did your mom not love you enough as a baby? is that why you’re like this?”

oh agni, has she gotten herself into a mess.

“do not,” i whisper with a low growl, “insult my mother.”

she’s intrigued now, but seems to take pleasure in egging me on.

“oh, wow, is the wittle fire nation prince too scared to talk about his mommy?” she’s playing with fire now, but i can sense the hesitation behind her taunting words. it still angers me to no end.

“i said, back the hell off!” my voice is louder now, but no less deeper. i can tell she’s getting scared.

“why? tell me why! not enough fond memories of mommy holding you?” she’s near screaming now, and i let go.

“yes! yes, okay? yes i don’t have enough happy memories of her and yes she didn’t love me enough and yes bringing her up is going to friggin piss me off!” i’m getting maniacal now, thank agni she’s finally backing off. i’ve still got some fight left in me though.

“you wanna know why? you wanna friggin why? because my douchebag father friggin killed her. he killed her because she was water tribe and made the friggin mess that turned out to be me and i’ll never see her again…” my anger dissipates and gives way to tears. agni, i can’t believe i’m crying in front of this girl who wants to kill me.

i didn’t realize i said that aloud until she responds quietly into the night. “i don’t quite want to kill you.”

my dumb brain takes too long to recognize what she said. “you… you don’t?” i’m still sniffling back tears, and she’s suddenly right in front of me. close enough for me to feel her breaths. they’re hot and steamy. almost like azula’s. but no… she couldn’t be. she’s water tribe. right?

“i…” she starts talking, but seems to lose the confidence. “the fire nation took away my mother away from me too.” it sounds like this story’s deeply personal to her, but she’s telling me anyway.

“they had been looking for her for ages, you know. she wasn’t royalty or anything, but the daughter of a pretty important noble. she disappeared nearly twenty years before they came for her, because they had gotten a tip she went to the southern water tribe. had married a man there. had a son and a daughter.

“they took her in front of me. said she was a blood traitor. asked whether there were any bastard children who’d she’d given her fire blood to. asked if any of her whoring out had given the gift of fire to anyone as filthy as a water tribesman. when i was nearly seven.” katara seems to have lost the emotion in her voice, as a bone chilling laugh comes out of her.

“she lied to save my life.” i didn’t quite understand; the gift of fire? but katara holds out a hand, palm facing up, and suddenly i can see shadows dancing along her face and all of her features look sharp and clean cut. and i understand why she hasn’t shivered a single time this entire night.

[thewhiterabbit42]

Full Circle: Part 5

Full Circle Masterlist

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Warnings/Tags: Winchester sister!reader, angst, sarcasm, and a whole lot of ways to call someone a dick (among other things), violence  

Word Count: 7,826

Summary:  Gabriel isn’t the only thing from the past being brought back to life, and, once again, you find yourself smack dab in the middle of everything.  

Author’s note: This chapter is tied with The Best Laid Plans as the favorite thing I’ve ever written.  I had so much fun when I originally wrote it and, at the time, really got into the mind set. I actually didn’t end up changing much except for adding more names for Gabe to call Raphael, the conversations around which have made this chapter that much more precious to me.  

All tags are at the end.  If you have a line through your name, the tumblr Gods won’t let me tag you.

Special thanks to @sumara62, my wonderful beta who made it through 15 pages of dick references before being like, “Really?” and @blondecoffeecake for helping add to my repertoire of dick.  You guys are the best.

***Please do not repost or copy my work to any other site without my written permission.  Giving credit does NOT count.  Reblogging is ok.***

<<Prev Chapter     Part 5     Next Chapter>>

If Gabriel’s life were an autobiography, it would be called The Reason We Can't Have Nice Things: A Study in Daddy Issues or Why I Hope I’m Adopted.  Because right now?  There wasn't a single one of his family members he wasn't considering shanking, his father most of all.  

Great.  Fine.  Wonderful.  The man had brought him back.  Gabriel would be sure to send Him an edible fruit arrangement the next time He was in town.  Laced with the plague and made entirely of zombie fruit aka durian (aka what had his father been smoking when he decided anything consumable should naturally smell like rotting flesh?).

Why was Gabriel displeased one might ask?

It might have had something to do with being turned into shish kebab so his brothers could compare dick sizes. (If anything he should be the winner in that department since he was the only one with the cojones to stand up to them).

It might have had something to do with his father being unable to do anything other than stand around, dick in hand, while shit went sideways because He was, in fact, just standing around, dick in hand.  

Maybe it was because the only being who gave a damn about Gabriel was a mother loving human who should hate his very existence after what he did to you and your brothers.  (The father loather in both of you, however, had created quite the bonding experience).  

Or maybe, just maybe, he couldn’t help but suspect there was some underlying motive to his sudden and fortuitous resurrection… like the fact that the heaven bus was on fire again and a fair number of his divine family was ready to drive it into the side of the earth.  

Because it had worked out so well for the God squad the first time around.  

When he found the earth was not, in fact, one giant smoking battlefield or a rage infested zombie land, he was impressed.  He assumed your family had managed to put Lucifer back in time out, though he never would have guessed the how.  

He also never would have guessed who Luce would end up with for roommates. He had been impressed with the creativity until he caught the look on your face.  Heaviness clung to the darks of your eyes making them seem endless.  He knew how cleverness could be a burden and it was like staring at his own reflection, enduring loneliness included.  

He had initially hoped one of you had gotten a few good sac taps in on his behalf, but now he simply hoped you had for your own closure.  Preferably before his brother was wearing yours, but it wasn’t like the sasquatch was going to feel much other than suffocating in his own body.  

Gabriel made a mental note to avoid ever explaining that perk of being a vessel to you.  

Fact check: being a vessel was terrible for the first thousand days or so.  After that it just tickled.  

However, he did have a lot to explain.   

He knew he would end up here sooner or later.  Well, not here here.  He kind of understood his father having a blast from the past, considering the easiest way to pull his vessel to the present was to find the last place it had existed.  Being cockblocked and dropped right where Lucifer iced him, however, was an extra special touch of douchiness, and there was only one being left with that much power (and that much douche).

What he didn’t know is that you would end up here with him and that was what had him close to popping a vessel (literally and figuratively speaking).  It hadn’t been his choice to be resurrected in the middle of a shitstorm, but he had been the one to drag you into it.  All because he had been impulsive, reckless, and unable to look past his own selfish desires.  

There went his argument for being adopted.  

He should have stayed away from you.  Then again, if it was a cosmic coincidence you both showed up at the same place at the same time, he’d put himself in the cage with Lucifer, Michael, and the youngest Winchester and dance the lambada with all them.  The only reason he’d come back to this funhouse of memories was to seal off the doors and windows just in case the rip in the time space continuum was a little more wormy and less like the snapshot he’d initially assessed.  

The moment he spotted you, he should have just walked away.  He could have.  It wasn’t your grief that undid him.

Fact check: seeing your world bend beneath that weight did, however, do things to him he’d rather not think about.

He had only seen you this distraught on one other occasion.  Famine had sunk its influence so deep inside you there was nothing other than a blinding need.  For what, Gabriel had never found out. The urgency in your prayer (along with the fact it was just his name over and over again) suggested he might want to get his winged ass down there pronto.  When he arrived, you’d been so consumed he’d had to put you to sleep before seeing your pain began to consume him.    

Pain, though, was a timeless constant he could rationalize.  So long as there was life, there would be suffering.  What chance did he stand, however, against your guilt?   It pushed against the indifference he had tried to maintain, unknowingly slipping within his walls undetected, until it touched against his own guarded feelings of responsibility.  

Even then, Gabriel could have patched you up (emotionally), saw you out to your car, and went on to enjoy his limited existence at his own personal, completely conjured bunny ranch equipped with endless supplies of chocolate, whip cream, and other sensual sweets… along with eight different versions of what he called not yous.  Those were women who had enough of your features for him to pretend, but not actual carbon copies.

Having no shame and being a super creep were definitely two different things.  

Not to mention how creepy they were when he couldn’t get the personality traits down enough to not make a copy seem straight out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers… not that he’d ever tried or anything.

Fact check: Gabriel had tried once.  For science.

However any illusion of leaving had been shattered in one simple statement.  

Have that drink with me, Sheriff, and I will be.

Green had inked in around his vision and he didn’t have to read your thoughts to know what your plans were.  The two of you were kindred spirits, your personalities sharing several different aspects. The main one was you liked pleasure in many forms and you weren’t ashamed to take it.  Whether it was ordering every pie in the diner when caught in the time loop (and then watching Dean’s stomach explode when you made a pie eating contest out of it) or distracting yourself by seducing the local sheriff, you used your senses to feel good in the moment.  

This moment, however, was wrong.  You sought distraction in his absence, only he was standing right there, so close he had accidentally touched you when you stumbled back a bit (though he was still trying to figure out how that fluke had occurred considering he was pretty sure the only thing close enough had been his wing).

Fact check: the left one did tend to get a little handsy.  

But that was besides the point.  You were looking to get lost in a man from a generation whose idea of a good time was a cup of tea, an episode of Matlock, and a nap.  

Despite the sheriff being apprehensive, Gabriel saw the flash of loneliness that pushed through the man’s gaze.  It wouldn’t take much to get him to cave.  Even if he put up a good fight, you were young, pretty, and way too smart for your own good.  He wouldn’t stand a chance.

Neither did Gabriel when he began to imagine all the things the man would do to you, all the things you would let the sheriff do, and it would all be on his conscience, because it was technically his fault you went on grieving.  

At least, that’s what he told himself.  Admitting the first thing on his mind since getting a reboot was to make you his in every way he’d failed to before was a tad more insightful than he cared to be.  The whole thing was enough to drive him to drink.

Fact check: while there was no driving, there was a whole lot of drink.  The part about making the sheriff run circles and question his own sanity was just an added bonus.  

He needed something to calm the clamor in his head, except it had just made him sloppy if he had missed his brother’s presence slipping into town.  Regret and guilt weighed heavy on gold as he took in the mounting dread on your features.  His weakness had brought you here, and it was up to him to see it did not take you down with him.  

He wanted to tell you as much, but whether it was his own streak of daddy issues or the fact that even the most meaningful relationship he’d managed had ended with a good old-fashioned stabbing (thanks, Kali, always knew you were kind of a bitch), his words fell short as they tended to in these situations.  

Touch, however, was something he managed to do well.  Tips up knuckles drank in the skin along the side of your face, savoring the feel one last time.  He channeled what reassurance he could into the gesture, hoping to calm the panic he felt buzzing through you so you would hear him when he told you to run.  The command, however, became lost as his brother made his grand entrance, confirming he did, in fact, have the worst timing in the universe.  

“Gabriel,” a deep voice boomed over the lingering echoes of thunder as the the silhouette of a man manifested in the center of fading light.  

“Raphael,” Gabriel drawled, looking up at his brother.  “This is an awkward surprise.”  

“Someone’s clearly never heard of knocking,” you muttered, and he felt your relief in a momentary release of tension before everything tightened again.  You slid off his lap, and the absence of your body rang cold as the sudden chill in the room rushed in to take the place of your warmth.  He could see the gears in your mind turning, gaze appraising as you took in his brother’s stoic features.  

Gabriel stepped forward, subtly placing himself between you and the entity who should henceforth be known as the giant dick for being the the biggest cockblock in creation.

“I am disappointed, brother,” The meter-long man-dong said, eyes flicking to Gabriel in obvious dismissal of your presence.   “You must have heard what is happening.”

Oh, Gabriel had heard all right.  Angel radio was a complete cluster these days.  The last time it had been this chaotic was when he’d tricked Michael and Biggus Dickus into believing there was a demon incursion about to launch on heaven led by rogue angels… because was inciting the Crusades as a test of faith (and act of boredom) really necessary?

“Let me guess.  Thing’s not going so well for you, bro?” A glimmer of a sardonic grin flashed across his casual mask, tone pushing the fringe of disdain as he arched a brow.  

“No.  But you already knew that, and yet your first inclination is to dally with this human.”  

Apparently Gabriel wasn't the only one unimpressed with the situation.

“I get we’re a little behind the times right now, but what year are you stuck in?  1905?” He taunted.  

“Watch your tone,” Cock McBlockins warned and Gabriel nearly rolled his eyes.  He wondered if his father had meant to make all three of his brothers into prideful pricks with their own mini god complexes or if they had just naturally become those without anyone to challenge their authority.      

“Or what, you’ll shiv me too?” He demanded.  It wasn’t like he was bitter or anything, being put in this position again.  

Fact check: he was plenty bitter and uber pissed.

If anyone asked, however, the official story was he just didn’t think Raphael had it in him to be such an ass about it.  

“The only reason she continues drawing breath is because I will it,” the monstrous manpole informed him.  The older archangel’s wings flared slightly in warning, his presence pushing against Gabriel’s as it wrestled for dominance within the room.  The youngest pushed back, his own pride unwilling to back down so easily.  To do so would be to show weakness, and his weakness had put you in enough danger already today.  

Tips of fingers touched against his lower back, acting as pinpoints of pressure and shifting his focus back to you.  If he had to guess, instinct spurred your touch, and perhaps the need for reassurance.  There’s no way you could have perceived the pissing contest currently happening, but enough of something skittered across your radar to tip you off to the danger.

Or perhaps you were telling him to quit dicking around already and figure out an escape plan.

“What do you want?” Gabriel asked, backing down.  The degenerate disco stick eyed him as if it were a trick a moment before that dark, baleful gaze slipped over his shoulder and landed on you.  

“What is she to you?” Dickus Maximus demanded.

“I mean I was trying to have a bit of fun but somebody crashed that party,” he gave a dramatic look skyward as if asking if even his father could believe the nerve.  “But really, what are any of them to us in the long run?”

“An incessant nuisance,” the dickasaurus rex said flatly.

“I was thinking more like a beautiful distraction,” Gabriel replied smoothly though it felt like he had a mouth full of sand. “But just a distraction, nonetheless… no offense sweetheart.”  He turned, giving you a flashy-and completely false- apologetic smile for good measure.  

He didn’t mean it.  He might not be ready to admit you were more than a passing obsession, but on a visceral level he was hooked, his stomach suddenly a gymnastics Olympian as it somersaulted its way through a sudden bout of ire-tipped nerves.  

If the USS Douche Canoe ruined this for him, everybody’s ship was going down, starting with the dickhead in front of him and heading straight to the top, where all the bullshit started.  

“No offense, sweetheart, but I’m not looking to date a giant dick anytime soon,” sarcasm painted your words, streaking across lips in a smile you flashed that was just as insincere.  

Gabriel took it as a good sign you hadn’t missed a beat with your response.  Mostly because that was one less thing to worry about while he figured out how to get you out of there.  There’d be plenty of time for doubt later if he survived.  In fact, it was one of his favorite pastimes.

Fact check: it was nobody’s favorite pastime.

“Well, aren’t we just two peas in a pod,” he drawled, brows raising as he dropped his hands to his hips.  “Humans, I tell you.  Just when you think you’re the one using them, they’re actually using you.”

“I’ve asked myself many times what would I do should you choose deceit over honest discourse,” The dick with a dictionary began, his gaze drifting back to Gabriel’s.  “I think I have my answer.”  

The look in his eyes remained neutral, pushing beyond the fringes of weary into outright exhaustion, but it was that telltale half lift of lips, smirking smugly, that gave away the game plan.  Unfortunately, that plan looked to be you.  

With a snap, you disappeared from out of the side of Gabriel’s vision only to reappear in front of the increasingly annoying third wheel to the party.  The contrast of the dark fingers wrapped around your pale throat was startling.  Or, it could just be the fact his brother was definitely gripping that part of you quite snugly in warning.

“What weaknesses lay beneath, I wonder…” the wondrous one-eyed yogurt slinger mused, thumb dragging slowly across the surface of your throat.  The movement was callous, insinuating no more than the danger you were in.  Defiance darkened your eyes, your lips pulling back in silent snarl as if he’d touched you in a far different manner and it caught Gabriel off guard.

He looked more closely, peeling back the layers of atoms and energy until gossamer strands of grace glistened ethereal in the dim lighting.  You were surrounded by it, wisps of it ghosting over your upper body as if seeking some sort of entrance.  Anger crackled hot beneath his skin, causing his energy to spark slightly between the tips of his fingers.  

How dare Raphael touch you that way.

He had no right to touch you with his grace.  He had no business inside your mind, though by how he was concentrating on the area between your shoulders and waist he was after something much more integral.  

Why he’d want a peek at your soul was beyond Gabriel, but it was a whole lot of nothing good for you.  

“Stop,” He warned, clenching down hard and doing his best to reign in his temper.  He was aware that this might not be anything other than a test (which he was clearly failing).  If his brother was prodding for sore spots, boy had he found one, especially when Gabriel watched as the older archangel pushed his energy beneath your skin in a wholly ungentle way.

There was no stopping his fury as your features grew taut with pain, your torment pushing out your throat in a sudden cry as light emanated out from where the grace had entered. The ground beneath his feet began to tremble, tables and chairs beginning to clatter as they bounced around, skittering slowly across the floor.  

“I said stop,” he repeated, the rumble growing louder as the entire building began to sway.  Windows shattered around the room and Raphael was lucky he didn’t find himself on the receiving end of an incredibly angry smite.  His brother exhaled a long, heavy sigh through his nose, withdrawing all his energy in a single instant and letting you drop to the floor.  

“Who is she to you?”  Disappointment wove through the gigantic pork sword’s words and Gabriel held back a snort.  Like the asshat had any right to ask anything about you anymore.  

“None of your business,” Gabriel hissed.

It was the wrong answer.  

Apparently a good old fashioned ass kicking was next on the list, your body catching some serious air before it came slamming down on the top of the tables.  Wood snapped beneath the force and you continued to roll across the floor a few feet from the impact.  

Gabriel reached out with his grace, searching for the familiar, chaotic buzz that was often your mind.  It was a much dimmer, snarling mass of tangled thoughts at the moment.  Stay down he told you, hoping you were conscious enough to hear him.  

You were and, as usual, you were intent on doing just the opposite of what you should be.  You pushed yourself up, eyes flashing with determination as you appraised the situation.  Keep him occupied you prayed, silently pulling yourself to your feet before slowly edging your way toward the back exit.  

Good.  Maybe you could sneak out while he and his brother got down to business.

“Would you like to gamble on what strike three means for her?”

“All right, all right,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.  “No need to pull a Lucifer and break everyone else’s toys when you don’t get your way.  Besides, we all know what happens when you start throwing temper tantrums with the Winchesters around.  Well, Michael does, anyway.”

He smiled widely, enjoying the way his remarks were beginning to get under Coitis Interruptis’ skin.

“But if you simply must know… she was the only one that gave two shits about me when everyone was trying to make me choose sides.  It wasn’t about tradition or the greater good.  It was about me.  She believed in me to make the right decision because I was good enough,” he began, past pushing against present as a familiar slow burning anger flared back to life.  

“So no.  She’s not a distraction.  She’s a friend.  A good one, and she’s a good person who doesn’t deserve to be caught up in our bullshit again.  So I’m asking you, as your brother, to leave her out of this.”

Three things became apparent as Gabriel stopped his rambling.  

First, this was probably the most genuine interaction he’d had with cocksmiter number three since his father had left.

Second, because it was sincere, it didn’t even register on his brother’s bullshit detector which, in turn, sent it flying off the charts by the look he received.  

Third, and most important, you had stopped.  You were now just standing.  In the middle of the room.  Staring.  Mouth parted slightly when really you needed to be moving - why the hell weren’t you still moving?

Gold snapped up to your gaze, flicking toward the door insistently.  Keep going he urged when you simply looked conflicted.  You hesitated another moment before continuing on.

Humans.

“I mean I know it’s a novel idea, but why don’t we try keeping the crazefest in the family, just this once?”  He continued, aware of his brother’s unwavering stare.  He was also aware of how close you were to the back door.  Your hand reached for the handle, movements silent as you gave a push… only for nothing to happen.  

Someone clearly had some control issues to work on.  

“I will never understand your loyalty to these creatures,” the disdain dripping from the colossal cockmuffin’s words was palpable.  “They are weak and flawed.”

“What did you say?” Gabriel demanded, eyes narrowing.  Lucifer had said those very words… how had his brother known?

“Despite our differences, Gabriel, I came here to talk,” the humongous spawn hammer implored.  “The rebel has gathered a surprising amount of support, though it is only a matter of time before he is defeated.”

“Well, sounds like you have it all figured out.  Best of luck to you,” he said, taking a few steps back toward the front entrance.  If he wasn't going to let you go, Gabriel could at least try and move the party.  Thunder echoed overhead and the room suddenly leapt to life with a gathering energy just before a bolt of lightning pierced the ceiling.  It struck right behind Gabriel’s back, stopping him in his tracks and scorching the floor.  

Apparently he wasn't the only one with a penchant for theatrics.  

“You’re either with me or against me.”  

Gabriel had been wrong.  His brother wasn't a giant dick.  He was a whole bag of them.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Gabriel jeered, taking a step forward.  “So, how do you want to do this?  Should I just whip mine out?  Do we compare sizes first?”  

A familiar smell drifted under his nose, carrying hints of metal and life in its purest form.  He glanced up to find you with your back against the door, hand obscured behind you and he had a fairly good idea what you were doing.  The problem was if he did, then so did the massive heat-seeking moisture missile.

If you both lived through this, he and you were going to have a long, snarky chat about the limitations of humans, and the nearly limitless power of archangels and why the former didn't need to worry about saving the latter.  

“Blood carries a very distinct smell,” Skippy McSexkiller announced, turning your way, dark eyes blazing bright against the insolence you were hastily painting across the door.  “Yours especially.”  

“It’s a wonder you’re not a hit with the ladies,” Gabriel taunted, trying to draw his attention.  It didn’t work.  “Hey, Raphie, can I call you Raphie?” That did the trick; the archangel paused momentarily, giving him a baleful look.  

“I tire of your games, brother, and theirs.”  Boy, did his brother look tired.  Not just the soul weary I’ve-been-alive-since-the-dawn-of-time exhaustion that timeless beings tended to get from time to time.  This was a whole other ballgame.  

Gabriel, tell me how to do this without hurting you.  

Apprehension filled your prayer as it floated to the forefront of his consciousness, and from the corner of his eyes he could see you were almost done.  He found it awfully touching you didn’t want to blast his hide when he knew that if your brothers were there, he’d have been rocketed halfway to Texas by now.  

Unfortunately, Scrote-totes MaGoo continued to designate the hotel as a no fly zone, leaving you both without a lot of options.

At least it would only hurt for a moment.  

Fact check: it was only for a moment, but it also was a whole lot of hurt.

Catch you on the flip side, sweetheart.

“Human idioms,” the gigantic tube steak sighed and the easygoing mask Gabriel kept in place began to slip.  “I’ll never understand your preference for them.  Or why you’d think me fool enough to fall for your little trap.”

Panic sparked in Gabriel’s chest, skating across the thickening tension in the air before slamming into your system.  You frantically finished the last symbol on the ward before bringing your hand down in the center.  He braced himself, only the blast never came.  He looked over to see the sigil had vanished.  

Oh sweet bearded man with bad teeth but good religious messages.  This was happening.  His brother was looking at you like he was going to split every atom in your body no matter what his younger brother wanted and last Gabriel checked, that was not on his agenda.  

“Hey douchebag,” he called out, pulling his blade from out of his jacket.  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

The other archangel didn’t even bat an eye.  He didn’t even give his younger sibling a courtesy snap.  The only reason Gabriel felt the smite coming was because the air always tasted like it was burning the moment before it hit.  

A bright, blinding light poured down through the ceiling.  Every hair stood on edge, stretching upward toward the concentration of energy before everything suddenly released and the blast had his brains pushing down through his nostrils.  

Fact check: Gabriel’s brain was not actually being forced out his nose, but it certainly felt like it.

The extreme downward pressure, however, was enough to immobilize his mind and force him down to his knees.

Apparently his brother was done dicking around.  

“Was the pain you suffered earlier not tangible enough?” Raphael’s voice managed to push through the mental haze.  “Perhaps you need a reminder of your own past.”  

Gabriel’s eyes fluttered open, details around him fuzzy as he struggled to bring the world back into focus.  

Your pain made for a great motivator.  

He heard your cry go up and the visceral response that tore through him was enough to help him gather his wits.  Your anguish was tangible even from across the room, tiny cuts and enlarged gashes singing in a discord of physical suffering that clashed with the previous chorus that rang from the very essence in your soul crying out.

He looked over to see you on your knees, red painting your torment in grisly splashes through your clothing.  There were streaks across your legs, your right thigh practically saturated.  It was harder to tell what was behind your sweater, but by the sheer smell of iron drifting across the room, there was a fair amount that had yet to show through.  You cradled your left arm closer to your body, droplets trickling out from beneath the cuff of your coat, sliding steadily off tips of fingers with a steady pat, pat, pat.   

“Is that why you brought me here?” Gabriel demanded, trying get the giant phallus turned back in his direction.  “Because you want to remind me what happens if I choose the right side?”

Pat, pat, pat.  

“There’s a certain symmetry.  Beginning where you ended.  Ending where you began,  should it come to that.”

Pat, pat, pat.

He should have seen it sooner.  After helping lock Auntie Amara away, the mammoth meat constrictor had been all about balance, about the universe having some sort of grand plan and synergy to it.  After their father left, however, things began to become a little less about cosmic harmony and a little more obsessive-compulsive.  

Pat, pat, pat.

“From where I’m standing?  More like a certain douchiness,” he turned, spitting out a mouthful of red from the blood that trickled down the back of his throat.  

“Enough!”  Raphael roared.  “I will not stand here and listen to your drivel while our home is under attack.”

Pat, pat, pat.  

Your heart began to slow, the change in pace nearly imperceptible at first.  For every beat you lost, his seemed to pick it up.  You were bleeding out and while you had a little time, you were going to be drier than a fruitcake in February if he couldn’t get to you soon.  

Good thing he had a trick or two up his sleeve.  

“Heaven is burning, brother.  Michael is locked away no different than Lucifer.  Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It might if that was what this was really about, but we both know that’s not the case,” Gabriel said, slowly pulling himself to his feet.  

“Paradise was within our grasp... until you betrayed us to the Winchesters and told them how to put Lucifer back.”  

Fact check: the only betrayal being served was by Lucifer, who couldn’t help but turn everything into an ice cold fuckery of a dish.  

“Then kill me,” he said, tossing his blade aside.  Rather, his shadow twin did.  He wasn’t that stupid… and you were beginning to look awfully pale.  He appeared in front of you, crouching down until he was eye level with you.  You hadn’t moved.  He wasn’t sure you were able to by the number of wounds you had.  

“I’d rather have you by my side,” his brother continued from across the room.  He was vaguely aware his double had given one of the many pre-selected responses from his repertoire.  Besides the fact it made things easier, he’d rather be focusing on you anyway.  His hands tended to get a little less smitey when he did.    

He had to be careful, though.  If he released too much energy, Frodo Douchbaggins would be on him like nazgul on the one ring.  He idly wondered if that made him Aragorn in this situation.  Probably Eowyn.  She did have the most fabulous hair out of all of them.  

Fact check: Gabriel did have pretty fabulous hair.  

Your eyes met his with something too shrouded for him to read.  The pain was too prevalent and he wondered how much you were even able to think beyond it.  Your lips parted as if to speak, and he held a finger up for you to be quiet before his gaze dropped down to the pool of blood on the floor.  

This mess was as much his fault as the titanic flesh rod’s, and when this was all said and done,

Gabriel was going to go full Lorena Bobbitt and remove him from existence.

“This is your chance, Gabriel, to make up for your past indiscretions…”

The only thing he needed to make amends for was sitting right in front of him.  The longer things dragged out, however, the less likely he’d get the chance.  

Fact check:  the chances one of you were getting fucked tonight were looking pretty good.  

Bonus fact check: it wouldn’t nearly be as fun as either of you had planned.

Fingers drifted along the swollen contour of your cheek, tenderly stroking away the puffiness as he released his energy. He didn’t need to physically touch you in order to heal, but what did he have to lose anymore?  

Your gaze drifted sideways, widening slightly in surprise and doubt slipped in through the cracks in his armor.  Perhaps he’d been mistaken.  Perhaps things were more one sided than he realized.  Perhaps you had been the one with too much drink tonight.  

He tried to focus on his brother droning on in the background, clamping down on his rising disappointment.  Wank, wank, atonement.  Wank, wank, duty.  It was the same hackneyed setup where humanity became the punchline.  

His family really needed to add some new jokes to their lineup.

You released a slow breath and his attention shifted back to you as you tried to move.  The hand you raised was shaky, slowed by the damage he was still trying to undo.  It was obvious you were struggling to even raise it this far, but it was far enough.  Tips of fingers slipped beneath his coat, tentatively tracing along the partially undone line of buttons at the top of his shirt before settling your palm against his chest.  

Your eyes settled in the same spot, narrowing intently.  He’d seen you enough times to know it was the look you wore when ferreting out an answer in the middle of a clusterfuck of information.  What you were seeking and what you found, were simply beyond him in that moment.  You did find something, however, and it wasn’t the slow growing heaviness of finality Gabriel overtaking over him.  

Despite the snarling mass of emotions he felt within you, your eyes began to brighten, shaking off some of their former weight.  The intensity made him take a closer look.  A slow burning ire had sparked somewhere along the way, determination causing the edges of your gaze to grow hard, keeping the flames contained.  Your anger wasn’t surprising, but the fear that seemed to be fueling it was.  

He wanted to reassure you that things would be fine, but what would be the point of lying?  Besides, you’d just find something to break on him if he did.  Though he imagined with the way things were going there might not be anything left to break by the end of the night.

Your brows drew together suddenly, a frown tugging at your lips.  For a moment he thought Raphael might have caught on, but he could hear the prick yammering on while his shadow tossed well placed barbs and used misdirection to keep the conversation going.

Your eyes also never left Gabe’s, making the source of your displeasure rather clear.  Or rather unclear, considering he hadn’t a clue what he could have done considering he hadn’t had the chance to open his mouth yet.  

Then again, he had dragged you into this mess.  Perhaps you were finally getting on the same page as the rest of the world in realizing what a giant fuck up he was.

Your hand clenched around his shirt and while he was surprised at how quickly your strength had returned, he was completely thrown for a loop when you yanked him forward, lips demanding as they moved over his.  Passion won out over resignation as energy spiked down from your mouth straight into his chest, sparking outward back into your hand and continuing the loop.  

Apparently, you were of the mind set that neither one of you had died yet.  

You kept things brief because, unlike previous assumptions, you understood the importance of not dallying.  When he looked at you again, the fear had melted away to promise - so much promise for so many, many things burned wickedly in your gaze.  

If that wasn’t motivation to survive this disaster of a night, then he deserved to be put out of his misery.  

Fact check: he most certainly was not dead already from the waist down.

Show time he decided, giving you a reassuring smirk before taking the place of his double once again.  Not that he had a clue what to do still, but he did have a little hope, thanks to you.  

“Let’s stop beating around the bush, hmmm?” Gabriel suggested.  “I know what you’re really up to.  This isn’t about heaven.  This isn’t about family or atonement.  This is about you just wanting it to be done.  No matter the cost.”

“Yes,” his enormous deep-V-diver of a brother admitted.  “I am tired, brother.  So very tired and I know that you are, too.  This is our chance to go back to our real home.  If my cold heart still yearns for it, I know yours must as well.”

Ancient sentiments almost forgotten stirred deep beneath the surface and Gabriel’s confidence slipped.  If how he looked on the surface mirrored what was going on internally, he would have been running around the room, flailing wildly as he attempted to outrun an imaginary wildfire.  

These were not things he wanted to feel again.  Not tonight.  Not with Raphael.  Not ever.  

Fact check: he would rather douse himself with holy fire and do the hellfire rumba than go down that road again.

Keep him distracted.  

Your prayer rang out as a lifeline, drawing him back from uncertain waters before he became lost in the riptide.  He didn’t dare check to see what you were up to with how intently his brother’s stare was fixed upon him.

“Humans have a word for that you know,” he said, pity unknowingly softening his demeanor.  

The Herculean skin flute gave a heavy sigh, weariness returning and casting shadows on his face far darker than before.  “I am aware of it, and I suppose you’re right.  We cannot go back.  But we can still end this miserable existence for everyone.”  

Every time it seemed like they were about to have a moment, twizzletits had to go and open that big mouth of his.

Gabriel sincerely hoped this wasn’t how everyone felt about him.

Fact check: it kind of was.

I’m going to tell you the same thing I told that big bro of ours,” Gabriel announced.  “I love you, Raphael, you are my brother, but you are a great big bag of dicks.”  He gave a dramatic pause, watching as fury erupted from his brother’s gaze.  

“Actually, I lied.  You’re an even bigger one for trivializing all the sacrifices made to stop this madness, mine included, by starting it all over again.  What is it with all of you throwing a tantrum if you don’t get your way? For father’s sake, grow a pair! Sac up and move on! The world isn’t as terrible if you’d give it a chance to show you its beauty.”

“This world is no longer beautiful.  It is full of ugliness, disappointment, flawed intentions, but most of all, it is filled with suffering.  If you love them so much, would you not want their pain to end?”

Gabriel almost winced.  The more he listened, the less he was certain his brother was, in fact, a bag of dicks.  If anything, it sounded like the archangel needed to go out, drink a liquor store, get laid, then go on a world tour and take in the sights.  He knew serving under Michael was no picnic, but he never imagined it would actually suck the soul out of someone.    

“To live is to suffer,” Gabriel conceded, “But it’s also so much more than that.  Yes, they’re flawed.  They can be vicious and bloodthirsty, but how is that any different than us?  Why can’t any of you see how much good is also in them?  How much they try and more importantly forgive?”

Because forgiveness was not a staple at any of their Sunday dinners.

“I am tired of this life,” Raphael repeated, the lines suddenly evident across his vessel’s face.  “And so very tired of all these games.  I know where your heart truly lies.”

The part of Gabriel in question gave a stutter, past overlaying present in a terrifying way.  It wasn’t so much the echo of Lucifer’s words that disturbed him so much as the fact that you were there, right where he’d been, body crouched low as you slowly crept in for the kill.  

“I’m sorry.”  The older archangel meant it.  It didn’t make him any less of a fuck stick for what he was about to do.  

Fact check: Raphael was definitely a big ol’ bag of dicks.

Desperation forced Gabriel’s hand and he leapt forward.  Once again, his brother anticipated the move, deftly sidestepping the blade before grabbing him by the arm and throwing him into you.  You nearly filleted him by mistake, your weapon catching him across his shoulder as you scrambled to get it out of the way.  

So much for plan B.  

Gabriel felt the telltale gathering of energy over his head and he had just enough time to throw you back before heaven’s energy came barreling down upon him.  It didn't matter how old he got, he would never get used to the feeling of a smite.  Though that might have been his brother’s goal by how many were sent down upon him.  Wave after wave of energy crashed over him and he was certain this was it… until it suddenly wasn’t.    

By the time the world stopped spinning (and ringing… and twisting… and shouting…) Gabriel looked up to see his brother booting you across the floor like a soccer ball.  

“What will it take for you to realize how weak and unworthy they are?”  Raphael demanded, sending another burst down.  Something popped inside his skull, though it was likely just his brain falling in on itself.  There seemed to be enough of something leaking out his nose and down the back of his throat again.

There was another loud pop followed by more ringing in his ears, and for a minute he assumed he really had taken one too many smites to the head for his vessel to hold.  When the sound continued, he realized the noise wasn’t coming from inside him, but from across the room.  You had your gun drawn and trained on his brother as more shots peppered the silence, making the archangel’s vessel shake slightly with each bullet that pierced it.  

He’d said it before and he’d say it again: you had the most abysmal sense of self-preservation, even for a Winchester.  

Fact check: the above statement was completely true.  Though scrambled as Gabriel’s mind was, he had the wherewithal to realize what you were doing was solely to draw fire away from him.

He shook his head, pity pushing through the lingering pain.  How could his brother bear witness to this and still not be swayed?  

“From where I’m standing?  They’re more worthy than we are,” he said, smiling slightly as his eyes met yours. No one else was willing to step this far onto the wrong side of sane for him.  Not his family.  Not yours.  It only reaffirmed his stance that you all deserved better than what his father had originally planned.   

“She has ruined you,” Dickbag McFlaccidcock declared, tone insinuating if anyone were to be pitied, it should be Gabriel.  Unfortunately, there was a reason for that.  

Gabe watched as your hand began to shake, your eyes widening at the realization you were no longer in control of your weapon.  Slowly, you began to turn it on yourself, your other hand coming up to try and alter its course without much luck.  

He didn’t even get the chance to try and attack his brother before another blinding round of pain echoed through his skull.  

“You will watch this,” the patron saint of douchbaggery insisted.  “Because your foolishness is the reason she must die.”

A crushing weight bore down upon his shoulders, pinning him in place.  Desperation clawed viscerally through his stomach, his wings shooting out to full length as he tried to break free from his brother’s grasp.  The uber smiting he’d received, however, had stripped him of most of his strength.  He was essentially leashed and there was nothing worse than feeling caged and helpless.

Except maybe watching the one good thing in his life be destroyed because of him.  

“You want me to stand with you - fine.  I’ll be your right hand man.  The heavens will sing of our unstoppable duo - Gabriel and Raphael - or Raphael and Gabriel, whatever you prefer,” he begged, willing to say whatever his brother needed to hear if it meant buying you more time.  He could worry about the finer points of how to dig himself out later.    

“This is for your own good,” Raphael insisted.

It seemed his brother had half a brain after all, though his heart was clearly still AWOL.  

No no no no no.  Think, Gabriel, think, think, think...

Fuck, fuck, god damn, fucking fuck - think, y/n, think, think, think…

Your thoughts collided, bursting through the increasingly tense silence.  Your mounting panic pushed through his battered mind, allowing him to unintentionally pick up on what was flying through yours.  As usual, you were the only two in the room even remotely on the same page.

Fact check: that page was titled Now’s a Good Time to Panic.

The gun reached its destination against your temple, desperation hitting its peak as both your mantras came to a deafening halt.  

“It’s not your fault, Gabe,” you told him, doing your best to hide your fear and failing miserably at it.  

He nearly broke in that moment.  Here you were, about to die because of him, and your final thought was to pardon him.  It barely made a dent in his brother’s armor, and that’s when he realized just how lost the archangel had become.

Gabriel renewed his efforts, straining against his ethereal bonds.  He clenched down on his jaw, so hard he might have heard a few of his teeth crack.  It was the only way to keep his desperation from spilling out over his lips.  The last thing you needed to see was him reduced to a babbling mess.  

No, no, no, no, please, father, no…

“It’s ok,” you told him.

Fact check: things were so far from ok that Gabriel was certain no one would be leaving this room alive if you died.  

You closed your eyes, but he had no choice but to watch.  His heart hit a fever pitch, mirroring his own struggles to escape as it hammered away against his chest.  There was nothing he could do and he dropped to his knees, everything shattering as reality bore down upon him.  

He wasn’t strong enough.  He couldn’t save you.  You were going to die and it was all his fault.  

“I’m sorry,” his voice wavered, thick with emotion.  

Gabriel’s world came to a screeching halt as his brother forced you to pull the trigger.  

Next Chapter>>

ALL the tags:   @girl-next-door-writes  @sumara62 @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @omgreganlove @jannalionheart @baritonechick, @deaths-maiden @lucifer-in-leather @stone-met   @the-moose-of-baskerville @summer-binging-spn  @blondecoffeecake  @raspberrypuddle @ourloveisforthelovely @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @tistai @christinalibertymikaelson

Gabe Squad:  @theblackenedsky @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @pepperwoodatnight @lacqueluster @samikitten @ludwigs-a-monster @a-vast-african-plain @onlyanothersocialcasualty @kazosa @cobrakai--1972

Full Circle:   @melodyhiddleston @gabe-crowley-trash

[fiftyeightminutes]

I love to read how kalagang relationship would if they're not sensates can you write this prompt Someone gave me a fake phone number and it’s actually yours and if you can't its okay and I really enjoyed reading your drabbles thankyou

I also got another request from another anon for the same prompt:

“Omfg I saw ur reblog about thrilling au’s and I was wondering if you could do the “someone gave you a fake number and its mine” with kalagang pls and thank you”

First of all, thanks both of you for being so nice. :)  I’m glad you guys like my writing so much.  Also, holy shit this really isn’t a drabble anymore.  This became like 2500+ words.  I really don’t think I know how to do short AU fics lol.  Kala is working inBerlin in this AU because that made things easier for my brain.  Please accept any geographical errors, theonly part of Germany I’ve ever visited was Munich.  (Also holy shit y’all, people are making baddecisions in this fic.  I do not advisedoing what people do in this fic.  Like Imade it fluffy, but IRL this is not a good idea lol.)

—

When Kala wakes up on Saturday morning, she finds a textfrom an unknown number on her phone.

Do you want to come tomy place? (Received 3:02 AM)

She’s confused.  Noone she knows would have messaged her at that hour.  Kala wakes up early to visit the local templeevery morning, and she doesn’t keep that fact a secret.  Plus, her family is a million miles away.

Who is this?(Delivered 8:39 AM)

Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t receive a response rightaway.  If they were asking someone over at three in the morning, they’reprobably in bed now, she reasons. Kala puts it out of her mind, choosing instead to get out of bed and concentrateon preparing for her day.

—

Kala has all but forgotten about the stray text message bythe time she’s finished praying that morning. When she gets home and begins to cook herself some breakfast, her phonebuzzes.  She absentmindedly takes it outof her pocket, unlocking the screen to find that she finally has a responsefrom the unknown number.

Wolfgang.  We met at the club last night.  (Received 10:46 AM)

She raises her eyebrow. She’s only been living in Berlin for two weeks or so, but she didn’tthink anyone was actually named Wolfgang anymore.  Kala wonders if this person has given her afake name for some reason.  She dismissesthe thought pretty quickly, though.  Towhat end would they do that?

I think you have thewrong number. (Delivered 10:49 AM)

And with that message, Kala figures her conversation withthis stranger is done.  She puts herphone down on the counter and turns her attention back to her food.  Several minutes pass as Kala finishes cookingand serves herself a plate.  She grabsher phone to listen to music while she’s eating, only to find that she hasanother text.

I just checked.  This is the number that was written on thenapkin.  If you don’t want to come over,I’m not offended.  (Received 10:55 AM)

She chuckles as she realizes what must have happened.  Poor guy.

I’m not sure who youthink I am, but I didn’t go to any club last night.  Someone gave you a bad number.  (Delivered 11:07 AM)

Kala eats her food and cleans up after herself, her phonebuzzing as she’s putting everything into the dishwasher.

Sorry.  My mistake. Won’t bother you again. (Received11:21 AM)

And from there, Kala intends to forget about the exchangeentirely.

—

A little over a week later, Kala ends up getting stranded ather job.  She had been working late, justwanting to test a few more things before going home for the day.  But before she knew it, thirty minutes turnedinto an hour turned into three, and now it’s dark out.  Normally she walks home, but normally shealso leaves work at 5 PM.  She is a lotless comfortable with the idea of walking home in a strange city at night.  Kala checks her bank statement on her phoneand winces.  She hasn’t received herfirst paycheck from her new job yet, and without that Kala isn’t sure she canafford both cab fare and groceries for the week.  She hasn’t even been in town long enough toreally make friends, either, so she doesn’t know anyone she can ask for a lift.

Kala scrolls through her text messages just for something todo with her hands while she’s thinking over her options when she happens uponthe unknown number from the previous week. The area code tells her the number is from Berlin.  She doesn’t want to contact this person – she’snever met them, doesn’t know anything about them except that they wereaccidentally given her number.  But shefigures it can’t hurt to ask a local for advice.

Do you know a cheapway to get from Rhinstrasse to Haupstrasse? (Delivered 8:11 PM)

When she doesn’t get an answer right away, Kala startsscolding herself.  What am I doing?  You don’t knowthis Wolfgang person and now you’ve told him where you are and where you wantto go?  But Kala considers her otheroptions and sighs.  She can’t come upwith a better idea.  A few minutes later,her phone vibrates in her hands, and she tentatively opens the message.

How cheap are wetalking? (Received 8:17 PM)

Kala thinks about her bank account.

As close to free aspossible? (Delivered 8:19 PM)

She wonders why this person on the other end is answering atall.  But since they’re kind of her onlylifeline right now, she figures beggars can’t be choosers.

There’s nothing reallylike that.  Why do you ask? (Received8:22 PM)

Kala’s wondering that herself.  She’s not sure what exactly sheexpected.  All she knows is she’s gettingkind of desperate.  There’s no food inthe building where she works, but if she leaves to get some, the timed locks onthe doors will stay shut behind her.  Soit’s stay here and go hungry for the night, risk walking home alone, or messagethis person.  None of the choices aregood.

I’m new to Berlin andstuck at work.  Was just hoping theremight be an inexpensive way home.  Thankyou anyway.  (Delivered 8:24 PM)

The next message comes almost immediately.

How stuck areyou?  Is it an emergency? (Received 8:25PM)

She half laughs at that, as if she would be contacting somestranger if she had any other choice.

I mean, I’m not goingto die if I stay the night, if that’s what you mean.  But there is no food.  (Delivered 8:26 PM)

Again, she receives a reply almost instantly.

I’m near Rhinstrasseif you need a ride. (Received 8:27 PM)

Kala considers this. Is she really going to accept a ride from a stranger?  Her stomach growls as if to answer herthoughts.  She hasn’t eaten since aroundnoon and is actually starting to feel a bit light-headed, but she doesn’t wantthat to distract her from the danger she may be putting herself in.  She weighs it against the potential risk ofwalking home in the dark, and finds that both kind of terrify her.  Part of her feels like she should just try tostick the night out in the office without food, but she also wonders what theywould even look like to her boss tomorrow. (She imagines herself, and she knows it won’t look good.  Nothing nearby that sells food opens up untilaround the same time as she is supposed to get to work, which will mean she won’tget a chance to eat until lunch.  Wearingthe same clothes as the day before and possibly sick, she wonders what thatwould even look like to her supervisor. She literally can’t afford to lose this job.)  In the end, she’s not sure if it’s logic orhunger she’s following, but she decides to text this Wolfgang person back.

Sure.  I’ll meet you at the corner of Rhinstrasseand Allee der Kosmonauten. (Delivered 8:30 PM)

—

She’s only been waiting for a few minutes when a black carparks nearby.  After a moment, shereceives a text.

I’m here.  I just realized I don’t know who I am lookingfor. (Received 8:48 PM)

Kala looks down at her clothes, grateful she’s always had acolorful sense of fashion.

I’m the woman inyellow pants. (Delivered 8:49 PM)

And sure enough, after that message is sent the black carpulls up to her.  When it gets to thecurb, the man inside the car rolls down his window.  “Hello?” he asks.

“Wolfgang?” Kala replies with her own question.

The man nods and she hears the doors of his car unlock.  Tentatively, she pulls the passenger dooropen and gets in.  She clutches her phonetightly, the thought that at least she can still call the police if necessarythe only comfort in her mind.  After shebuckles herself in and they start pulling away, he asks, “Do I get to know yourname?”

She looks down in embarrassment, not even realizing she’dnever given it to him.  “Kala,” she sayssoftly.

Wolfgang doesn’t reply, instead focusing back on theroad.  She looks back up, finally takinga moment to actually observe the stranger she is trusting.  His features are sharp, intense blue eyesframed by high cheekbones and a square jaw. He’s dressed in black from head to toe. She notes with amusement that he’s even sporting a leather jacket to completethe ensemble.  Part of her wonders if she’sjust gotten into a car with a German mobster.

To his credit, though, he is taking the fastest route to theaddress Kala gave him.  (If he’s planning on trying something, shethinks, at least it’s not a kidnapping.)  Never good with silence, Kala feels the needto say speak.  “Thank you for doingthis.  I know you don’t know me and thisis probably a huge inconvenience, but I really didn’t have anyone else to ask.”

Wolfgang shakes his head, giving her a small smile beforelooking back to the cars ahead of him.  “Don’tworry about it.”

Kala shakes her head. Now that she’s out of the immediate panic, she’s frustrated with herselffor even getting stuck in this situation in the first place.  “It’s my own fault.  I just got so caught up at work that I losttrack of time.”

“What do you do?” he asks.

“I work for a pharmaceutical company,” she answers beforeshe thinks about it.  (She wonders whyshe’s telling him any of this, actually. Why is this man she’s never met so easy to talk to?)

“So you make drugs,” he says with a chuckle.

Kala scoffs.  “Idevelop new medicines.”

“The only difference between the two is how you use them,”he replies.

She pauses.  “That’sone way to look at it.”

Before Kala knows it, they’re pulling up to her street.  Wolfgang pulls over at her address and stopsthe car.  The doors are still unlocked,and she realizes he really isn’t going to try anything.  He’s letting her leave.  This stranger really just showed up out ofnowhere to drive her home, with no ulterior motive at all.  She’s kind of amazed at her luck.

“Do you want gas money?” she asks.

He shakes his head.  “Isaid don’t worry about it.”

Kala nods, but she still feels like she should thank himsome way.  “Have you eaten?” she asks.

Wolfgang shakes his head again.

“Just a minute.  Waithere,” she says.  Kala gets out of hiscar and hurries up to her apartment.  She’snot sure if he’ll still be there when she gets back, but she wants to at leastgive him something.  When she gets intoher home, Kala scurries over to her kitchen and grabs some tupperware out of acabinet.  She then grabs some of theleftovers that she had been planning to eat that night out of the fridge andscoops a hearty amount into the new container. It’s not fresh, but she figures it’s better than nothing.

She’s almost surprised to find Wolfgang still waiting whenshe comes back outside.  But there he is,checking his phone while his car idles at the curb.  She knocks on the passenger window to get hisattention, and he rolls it down.

“Here,” Kala says with a smile and hands him the food.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“Nothing special. Just some leftover lamb curry. But I figured it was the least I could do.”

Wolfgang inspects the food for a moment, then puts it on hispassenger seat and smiles up at her.  “Thankyou.”

Kala shakes her head. “You’re the one who came to save me.”

He chuckles.  “I wasin the neighborhood.  It’s nothing.”

She shrugs.  “Well,the food’s there now.  So you might aswell enjoy it.”

Wolfgang’s grin widens. “Alright, alright.”

“Thank you again, Wolfgang,” Kala says.

“Any time,” he replies with a nod.  With that, he finally rolls back up thewindow and pulls away.  For some reasonthat Kala can’t quite place, she feels a bit disappointed.

—

That Friday, Kala is feeling restless.  Other than her adventure at the beginning ofthe week, she hasn’t had a chance to do anything but go to temple, work, eat,and sleep.  Once she gets out of work,she wants to do something different for a change.  But she still doesn’t know her way aroundBerlin or have anyone to show her, so she’s not sure what to do.

An idea comes to her. Kala’s not sure if it’s a good one, but she just got her first paychecktoday so she really wants to go out somewhere to treat herself.  So even though she has no reason to expectthis to be a necessarily great plan, she texts the only local person outside ofher coworkers that she has in her phone.

Hey.  Are you busy tonight? (Delivered 9:01 PM)

She doesn’t get a response at first, and she scolds herselffor having sent the message at all.  Just because he helped you in an emergencydoesn’t mean he wants to be friends, Kala thinks.  You don’teven know him.

Kala has all but resigned herself to another night in whenshe feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. (She doesn’t admit to herself how eager she is when she retrieves it tocheck the message.)

No.  What’s up? (Received 9:26 PM)

She thinks about how to word what she wants to saynext.  (Kala feels a bit like a teenageragain, analyzing text messages so acutely.) In the end, she scrolls back up to their first conversation and decidesto take a cue from there.

Do you know any clubsnear Hauptstrasse?  Finally got paid and wantedto see what Berlin has to offer. (Delivered 9:28 PM)

Wolfgang’s next answer comes much more quickly.

I can think of acouple.  Do you need another ride?(Received 9:29 PM)

No.  I was thinking more of a tour guide this time.(Delivered 9:30 PM)

If that’s okay, Imean.  Don’t feel obligated.  (Delivered 9:31 PM)

Kala kind of wants to smack herself.  (She wonders why she’s so bad at this, whentalking to him in the car had felt so easy.) Then her phone goes off again.

I think we could worksomething out.  Meet you in 30? (Received9:33 PM)

She pretends her stomach isn’t full of butterflies, but whenshe goes to her bathroom to start putting on makeup, Kala finds she can’t stopsmiling.

[roguewn]

prompt: Redeemed Ben Solo gets jealous over Poe.

submitted by: @monsterscavenger

AO3 link

>send me a reylo prompt!

>please like/reblog if you like it!

(In which Ben is the social disaster we all imagine.)

Poe Dameron was everyone’s best friend and Ben found it annoying. The only thing that had not changed since he had joined the Resistance was his reluctance in dealing with the pilot. Sometimes, he still wished he could tie him to a chair and make him suffer. Just a bit.

Poe Dameron was everyone’s best friend and incredibly good at dealing with people and social events. Ben was the complete opposite. He knew his change of heart had not actually changed anything for most people. He saw it in the wary stares they gave him and in the whispers that followed his every step. People would always believe there was something wrong in him, like there was in his grandfather. Leia would tell him that things would change and that he just needed to show them with actions that he wasn’t Kylo Ren anymore. Ben would show a crooked smile, but didn’t actually believe it would be so easy.

And then, there was Charming Resistance Hero Poe Dameron, who made everything look so freaking easy.

Talking to Rey, for example.

The briefing room was crowded. The First Order was most likely striking again soon and everyone gathered to discuss future plans.

Ben felt quite left out during the reunions. When people didn’t openly stare him down, they would straight up ignore him. He never talked during the meetings. If he had any useful piece of information, he reported to Leia before the reunion and she would discuss it with the others.

Ben spent his time observing his mother and Rey. Mostly Rey. There was a sort of unspoken between them since those days on Ach-To. Or at least, there was for him.

Some things that had happened were hard to ignore. He had visions and he knew she had visions as well. They got increasingly powerful after their first meeting and on the island, it almost got out of control. Ben couldn’t deny that Rey was a remarkable part of the reason he had decided to leave the First Order. But that was that. They never really talked about it. They never really talked about anything.

But Rey did talk with a lot of people, unlike Ben. And lately, she talked with Poe Dameron an awful lot. They were always in a corner of the room, chatting and laughing among themselves.

“How about one of our races, later?” Poe was saying, sly smirk and raised eyebrows.

The words caught Ben’s attention. Rey looked down at her feet, blushing – blushing? – and chuckled in the most adorable way. “Sure. Can’t wait.”

What the hell is going on?, Ben wondered, eyebrows so furrowed they almost met. Since when they had their own code? And what did ‘race’ mean? The way Dameron said it, it sounded dirty. Ben crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

“Uuh, is the prince in a bad mood?” came a voice from his side. Finn not-so-delicately elbowed him like he knew Ben hated. They weren’t friends and probably would never be, but they tolerated each other.

“Now that you’re here, definitely,” Ben replied, not taking his eyes off the couple.

Finn shot an imaginary gun at him. “Very funny. What are you doing?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Better than annoying you? Nah. I still need to pay you back for that lightsaber duel.”

Ben smirked. “It isn’t my fault if you’re reckless and stupid.”

Finn’s smile dropped. “Let’s not go there again.”

“You started.”

“Will you ever grow up?”

Ben rolled his eyes and focused back on Rey and the pilot. It was so obvious that it took Finn only a few seconds to understand what was happening. He held back a knowing smile.

“Rey and Poe really get along, don’t they?” He said, testing the waters. Ben and Rey were probably the only people not aware of the feelings they harbored for each other. Literally anyone could tell just by looking at them for a split second when they were together.

Ben stiffened and immediately looked somewhere else. “Do they?” He tried to sound uninterested and failed miserably.

“I always see them together, lately. The other day, they said they would go to the hangar and they disappeared for hours.”

Finn was trying really hard not to smile brightly, but it was almost impossible with how conflicted the once-mighty warlord was looking right now. His lips were a tight line and his eyes were turning a shade darker. He kept his arms crossed and was digging his fingers in the cloth.

“Good for them,” he said, coldly.

Yeah, good for them. Everyone knew he wasn’t good enough for Rey, anyway. She probably still hated him and had all the reasons. His feelings for her were nothing more than wishful thinking, he should have known they would bring nothing but more pain. As a warrior, he needed to accept defeat when the time came.

Finn’s amused smile slowly subsided and turned into a soft one. As much as he wanted to torture him a bit longer, he wasn’t the kind of person to keep pushing someone’s painful buttons for his own amusement. Plus, he knew something Ben didn’t – Rey’s real feelings. The only thing keeping those two apart was their own idiocy.

“Why don’t you just tell her?” He said, slowly and kindly.

Ben furrowed his eyebrows and turned around. In front of Finn’s friendly expression, his face finally softened and revealed his worry.

“What for?” he said, looking in the distance where Rey was still laughing and seemingly having a good time with the pilot. “Look at her.”

Finn did look at her, but didn’t understand what the other man meant. Until he heard Ben’s next words.

“She’s happy.”

Finn was surprised. Even though he had redeemed himself, Ben never seemed to care about anything or anyone in particular. He was still Kylo Ren in that aspect, it was hard to read his mind and to know his true feelings. Yet, Finn was always taken aback by how much he truly cared for Rey in his own, subtle way.

He smirked. “You two are truly stupid.”

“Who's stupid?” asked Rey, whose attention had been drawn to the two men staring at her and was now walking in their direction.

Finn looked at the both of them and it was almost funny to see the same exact frown on both faces.

“Nothing. Ben said he had something to tell you,” he patted the former warlord’s back and ignored the death stare he received in return before walking away.

Rey had the look of someone who didn't like to be fooled. “What was he talking about? Since when are you so close?”

“We’re not,” Ben confirmed, fists clenched and mind in panic. He decided to change the subject. “What about the next attack?”

Rey turned around to look at the round table. “Ah… I actually didn't hear much, I was talking to Poe. He must knew everything though, I will ask him later.”

“You're really close,” Ben mumbled, looking around.

Rey raised an eyebrow. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“What? No, I–” the look in her eyes told him that she wouldn't drink any of his excuses. “I mean, it's just an observation. You talk so loudly I could hear everything about your dates and all.”

“Our dates?” echoed Rey, wide eyes full of surprise.

“Your… races, or whatever you call them.” Ben was getting uncomfortable with every passing second. “Your code words aren't that smart. I don't even understand why you should keep it a secret anyway.”

Rey couldn't believe her ears. “Our code– are you insane? Why would you think we would do something like that?”

It was Ben’s turn to be confused. “But you said–”

“We do race sometimes, yeah. With the starfighters. Poe is teaching me a lot of pilot tricks.”

Starfighters?, Ben thought. The word echoed in his mind like something foreign to him. His brain seemed to wake up just then. Oh, no. Did he just… make a complete fool of himself?

His shoulders deflated in exhaustion. “But Finn said he saw you go to the hangar together and disappear.”

“Well, where do you think they keep the starfighters?”

Of-fucking-course. Everything made a terrifying amount of sense now. Ben felt like his face was an open book. He was sure Rey could read every single shade of emotion in his features and the hint of a smile on her lips was very much worrying to him now.

“You know… you just sounded like you were jealous.” She said, crossing her arms with a knowing look on her face.

Ben looked away. “Nonsense.”

“You don’t need to worry, anyway,” Rey went on, nodding away. “Look.”

Ben followed the gesture and spotted Finn and Poe sitting side by side in the back of the room, chatting and holding hands. They were holding hands, no doubt. Intertwined fingers and all. And they shared one of those disgusting I’m-in-too-deep gazes. The only thing left for them to make it more obvious was to kiss in the middle of the room.

Rey laughed at the look of pure disbelief on his face. “You see, I’m not exactly Poe’s type.”

Ben’s only thought was that of tying the former stormtrooper to a chair and make him regret ever making a fool out of him. Instead, his frustration took another form and he showed Rey his best sarcastic smile.

“I would be surprised if you were anyone’s type.”

The words came out before he could even filter them. He bit his tongue and cursed all the stars in the galaxy for his stupidity. Every time he had the chance to make it right with Rey, he always said the wrong thing. Always.

The scavenger girl was far from being someone who got offended by the words of some fallen dark lord. She kept her arms crossed and nodded, slowly. “I see. And here I was about to ask you out on a race. Guess you’re not interested.” She turned on her heels.

Ben looked at her back. It was now or never. If he let her go, he would keep replaying that moment in his head for days and cursing himself every single time; if he made something about it, instead, he could still, for once, try to make it right.

He licked his lower lip. “Wait,” he awkwardly rubbed his nape, avoiding looking directly at her. It was no weakness to show his true feelings, just this once. “I… might be interested.”

Rey knew it. Well, she never had the courage to make that first step, but Ben’s jealousy had given her that little push she needed to finally ask him out.

She turned around and smiled victoriously. “Looks like I am someone’s type, after all.”