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ereawrites · 4 years

Text

Dick Grayson x Reader - Mania

this was requested by: anon

word count: 10.5k / rating explicit

a/n: sex pollen so auto dubcon (?), but both reader and dick are affected so idk

taglist: @daddyissuesmademe @idkmanicantenglish

It's your fault, really. You should never have got involved in the first place, but the temptation was just too great to resist. How could you pass up the opportunity to investigate Poison Ivy's pollen? This was the first decent sample any of you had ever managed to get - even Bruce, though you suspect there have been a few times he's managed to get up close and personal with the pollen - and normally Tim would handle it, but he's away on business with Bruce, and Damian's too young to deal with intensive research, and Jason just can't bring himself to care. So, that left Dick, and you could've left it at that. You should have. Then again, Tim did text you to recommend that you helped Dick: actually, you would never have left your room if it hadn't been for his intervention. It's Tim's fault.

The thing is, everything was fine at first; you've, perhaps, been harbouring the slightest crush on Dick for a while now, and it's always nice to spend time with him. He's fun to be around, even if his classic charm sometimes borders on teasing flirtation, and he's got such an incredible mind. You forget that, at times - he has a bad habit of putting himself down as the 'kind one' of the family, the emotional support or the comic relief, and he forgets to let himself be brilliant, too. He doesn't realise you've noticed that. Or maybe he does, but he doesn't say anything, and you've happily spent the past two hours studying Ivy's pollen together.

"It's definitely pheromonal, but I've never seen a chemical composition like this before-", you say, eyes glued to the computer screen. Dick is leaning over the back of your chair, one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the desk beside you, and you shouldn't feel as tense as you do. "-look, this section doesn't occur naturally in any species we've seen. She's synthesising these pheromones somehow, it's not like she's injecting them, but I just - I don't get how."

He pushes off from the desk, grabs the back of your chair, and spins you to face him with a half-smile. "I hate to break your train of thought, but I think we need a biochem specialist.", he says, and you suddenly notice how tired he looks: his eyes are still vibrant, warm, but exhausted. "We've done as much as we can on this, right? No shame in calling in the big guns."

"Tim?", you reply, knowingly, relishing in the way Dick's smile grows into a full grin. He's still gripping the edges of your chair, effectively caging you in: you are not looking at his arms, and you can be certain of this because you are looking very, very intently at his face.

"Having a genius brother has its perks, I know. I'll call him now. It's late in Tokyo - he won't be in a meeting, he'll probably just be awake in his hotel room, tapping away at his laptop.", Dick says, finally moving away to fetch his phone, and his voice trails off into a mumble that he clearly doesn't mean for you to hear. "God, he worries me. He really does."

It's much too warm in here: you sigh, and shrug off your jacket, slinging it over the back of the computer chair before calling out,"You're such a mother hen sometimes, Dick."

"I care. Sue me.", he replies with a faux scowl. "You don't complain when you're ill and I bring you hot soup."

"You're a good cook, what can I say?"

"Husband material!", he chirps. You feel your stomach leap and your cheeks heat up at his words. He's only teasing, but the truth of it is, it has more effect on you than you would like to admit. Thankfully, he's quickly distracted by the crackle of Tim picking up the phone. "Timmy! How's things?"

Tim's voice is dry, as always, but with a noticeable undercurrent of frustration. "Shit. I hate it here."

"Hey, Tim. Bad day?", you say with sympathy. You feel a little bad for bothering him, now; as hard as everyone in the family works, Tim definitely pushes himself the hardest.

"I'm the youngest person here by at least twenty years, and my stomach can't handle sushi. Plus, Bruce gets separation anxiety from the rest of you. The one upside is that I've been able to practice my Japanese.", Tim replies. You feel bad for him, of course, but the image of him having to comfort a homesick Bruce has you suppressing a snicker.

Dick shoots an amused smile at you - he's too beautiful when he smiles, it isn't fair - that starkly contrasts the comforting tone he uses to respond to Tim. "Don't worry, darling brother - I've got something exciting for you! Check your emails - wait, only the most recent one, though, I sent you a link to a Red Hood fanpage-"

You interject with an accusatory wave of your finger. "Why the fuck didn't you send me that? Red Hood is sexy." If Jason were here, he would probably threaten to shoot you, but as it is, Dick's amusement only grows. His smile is so infectious, like it spirals out into the air and right into your chest, and you can't help but smile back at him. You don't know if it's the warmth of the room or simply from Dick himself, but you feel as though you're going to need to step outside for some fresh air soon.

"Because of your raging crush on Nightwing, probably." Tim cuts in, and you could fucking kill him. Dick gives you a pleased wink. "I'm looking at a pheromonal compound, right? Ivy's special formula?"

You muster as much venom into your voice as you can, without pissing Tim off so much that he leaves you to deal with this on your own. "Fuck you, Tim - and yeah. It's a newer version, though - I think she's evolving, if that makes sense? Her physiology is definitely changing." Tim gives a thoughtful hum in response to your words: you imagine it's in agreement.

Dick continues your train of thought. "We think she's working with someone else, or she's been experimenting on herself, maybe. Do you have any ideas about how she's making the new chemicals?"

"I'll need a few hours. Send me all the data over. You're right about it evolving, though - it's definitely airborne. Shit, this is actually really interesting - the molecules are more compact, smaller, so she doesn't need to rely on physical touch through her plants anymore-"

The rest of Tim's words are lost to a wave of horror. Airborne, he said - you'd doubt it if it wasn't for the similar shock that's written over Dick's face - and you have not been treating this sample as airborne. Ivy has always relied on physical, tangible contact to use her chemicals: you couldn't have known, there was no way you could've known, neither of you are experts on this kind of thing - you've fucked up.

"Airborne? How... airborne are we talking? Like, don't-sniff-the-test-tube?", Dick asks, cautiously, maintaining eye contact with you all the while. *Please, God, let it be don't-sniff-the-test-tube and nothing more than that. Please.*

"Shit, you haven't been wearing respirators - have you?". Tim sounds positively horrified. It does nothing to allay your fears, the worries that you've both been infected with Ivy's pollen; in fact, he all but confirms it. Everything is beginning to fall into place now. The tension around Dick - more so than usual, at least -, how warm you're feeling, the mental sluggishness that had you calling Tim in the first place.

You're angry at yourself, for your own stupidity - not Tim, but you're panicked, you're so unbelievably freaked out, and so you can't help but snap at the phone. "How were we meant to know, man? Ivy's never even hinted at having something of this level before!"

"You're working with chemicals, unknown chemicals, I hate-"

Dick cuts in before this can turn into a full-on confrontation. You've got no idea how he's managing to keep a level head. Perhaps the pheromones are already taking a more severe effect, or maybe it's a placebo effect, and you pray that it is, but you can already feel your heart beginning to pound against the confines of your chest. "It's just pheromones, right? We know it's not toxic, at least - Ivy's victims only take a few days to come around, at most. They're just kinda fucked up for a few days."

You admire Dick so, so much. He's right, he's always right, he always manages to keep you calm and make you feel safe: you'll just have to stay with him, and you'll be okay. If you stay here, he can comfort you, and maybe the impacts of the pollen won't even be that bad. And, if they are, well, there's no one else in the manor tonight, and Dick's so handsome and kind and strong, and maybe he'll - fuck.

Tim snickers. "Fucked, indeed. Only when Ivy's in a good mood, though. You guys better get ready for a tough night. I've heard it can get really bad, especially if you're deprived of - oh, fuck, I can't talk about this, this is too funny but it's so weird, oh my god-", and he dissolves into a fit of awkward, stunted laughter. Dick fixes you with an apologetic look, but you swear his golden cheeks are tinged with red.

"How long until it kicks in?", he asks. It's a stupid, stupid question, because you feel like you're close to dying already. You know what he means, though: when will it get bad? You've seen Ivy's victims before. They're entirely without dignity, practically begging to be touched, sobbing from the pain of it all - and you've only heard rumours about the depraved things they let Ivy do to them. What they ask her to do to them.

The huff of Tim's breath crackles through the phone. "Uh - I don't know, maybe an hour? A little less, since Bruce never opens the windows in there. Just seal the sample up, drink plenty of water, and try not to freak out. It'll pass. You won't die."

///

You thought you could do it - stay in your room, deal with this alone, avoid any potential awkwardness with Dick -but you can't. It's barely been an hour. Sixty-seven minutes since you left the cave, to be exact. Sixty-seven minutes since Dick grabbed you by the waist to halt your speedy departure, touch light but insistent, and said if you need anything, come to me. His eyes were dark when he said it. Deep, dark blue, an ocean that you could get lost swimming in; but pupils already dilating, breath already speeding up. He meant it as nothing more than a kindness. Still, though, that hasn't been enough to stop you from coming onto your fingers with the image of those eyes burned onto the backs of your eyelids.

Ivy's pollen is designed to induce lust, yes, but only for the first person you see after you're infected with it. This means two things: firstly, that you need Dick more than anything right now. Your head is pounding, your lungs feel like they're on fire - the sensation between your legs isn't aching, it's agony, and you've spent fifty-two of the past sixty-seven minutes trying, and failing, to fool your body into believing that your fingers are his. The first thing you know, is that you need him, because you saw him right after you were infected. The second thing you know - there was no one else in that room. You were the only person Dick could have seen.

So, stupidly, you seek him out. You go back down to the cave, without even taking the time to wash your hands, because that's what your body is telling you to do, and you're acting more and more on instinct. Potential awkwardness be damned. He'll fix this.

Dick's facing away from you, reclined in the computer chair: his posture seems almost relaxed, just almost, legs sprawled out and left elbow visibly sticking out from around the back of the chair, like he's got one hand close to his head. You'd assume he was still looking at the computer, if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now, but you are, and you notice more. From what you can see of his body - it's low-blue-lit from the computer screen, enough that you can make out the muscle of his legs through his sweatpants if you squint, but it's not enough, you need to see more - he seems tense. Too tense. Normally, you'd sneak closer, but your head is practically spinning now and Dick will help you. He'll make this better. Your voice is hoarse and dry when you manage to call his name.

He immediately jolts in his seat, spinning to face you, and now that he's backlit by the computer, you can barely see more than the outline of his body. God, he looks so lean, so tall - "Are you okay?", he asks, and he sounds almost as bad as you feel. You swallow thickly before responding - and, through the fog in your head, you realise that your jacket is clutched in his left hand.

You, miraculously, manage a weak smile. "I just - I thought maybe it would, you know, be better to... be together, during this. In case - if one of us needs help, or something. I don't know.". You sound stupid. Dumb. You feel it, too, and you can't even bring yourself to care. The mere sight of him is helping: it doesn't remove the pain, or any of the physical sensations, really, but at least the panic of not being near him is being soothed.

"That's - yeah, okay. How are you feeling?", Dick replies. His voice is barely more than a whisper, but you hear it as clear as if he were right up against you. Chest pressed to your back, lips on the curve of your jaw, that voice going right through you and into the pits of your stomach.

It's wrong, to think of him like this, when all he's doing is trying to check that you're alright. He knows you aren't, but he's trying.

The best thing you can think to do is make a weak attempt at a joke. "I've got a newfound fear of Ivy." Dick even huffs out a laugh, but it's just as half-hearted as your words. "I didn't think it was going to be this bad at first, Jesus - but it keeps getting worse, and, it just-"

"-it hurts. I know.". Dick nods. As you take a step closer to him, you realise that your eyes have finally adjusted to the relative darkness of the cave, and you realise that you can see his cock straining against his sweatpants. He's hard. What's more, there's a distinct wet patch leaking through the material.

When you entered the cave, you couldn't see one of his hands; the chair wasn't moving enough for him to be stroking himself, and you're not sure whether you're glad he wasn't, but now that you think of it, there was definite movement. Like he was palming himself through his sweatpants, maybe. And the hand that was close to his head, it's clutching your jacket, he was holding your jacket close to his face while he-

"Dick - were you...?"

He sighs, halfway between embarrassed and resigned, and sinks back down into the computer chair. He keeps your jacket clenched in a white-knuckle grip. "I had to take the edge off somehow, right? I'm sorry, I didn't think you would be coming back down here, I never meant to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"I'm not uncomfortable.", you blurt out before you know what you're saying. Dick's expression visibly shifts - you don't have the mental clarity to figure out into what, exactly - but you can feel your own eyes widen as you process the implications of what you just said. "Oh, fuck - I didn't mean it like that, I - sorry."

Dick just shakes his head. He must mean for you not to worry. You stand in silence for a while, not exactly awkward but certainly thick with tension, before he pats a hand onto the desk beside him. "God, this is worse than I thought. Do you wanna come sit down?"

Do you? Although being closer to Dick sounds like the only thing you want in the world right now - god, you can't help but think about how good he would look, if you were close enough to really study him, now that you're beyond giving a fuck about etiquette - you're also acutely aware of how difficult it'll be to control yourself. Undeniably, you want him. You've wanted him for months, really - but the pollen has taken that desire and multiplied it tenfold, made it so that it's all-consuming and painful. In your room, nothing more than imagining him, it was bad enough. Now, now that you can see his fucking cock, now that the image of him rubbing himself with a blissed-out look on his face, it's almost impossible to control.

You move to sit next to him. You can't help yourself. Once you start moving, you feel like it's all in slow-motion: Dick's watching you, dark eyes trained so closely on your form, and you're wearing nothing more than a tight-fitting pair of leggings and a thin t-shirt. After what feels like an age - too long to be apart from him - you reach the desk, and upon clumsily perching yourself on it, you see Dick looking as though he's about to pass out.

"Fuck, did I - did I do something wrong? I'm sorry-", you say hastily, but he instantly shakes his head and trains his eyes on yours. The blue is nearly gone. It's all blown-out pupils now, so much that his eyes are nearly black.

He licks his lips as if to wet them. "-no, no, but - when you were in your room - when you were alone - did you do anything to take the edge off? Did you touch yourself?"

You could say no, if you wanted to. You could lie. He would know, but he wouldn't press it, and you could save yourself the shame. For all that Dick must be struggling just as much as you are, he's exceedingly kind, so much that no amount of fucked-up drugs could change that: he's still your Dick, underneath all of this.

"Yeah.", you admit after a heartbeat, and your stomach lurches when you see his cock twitch through the sweatpants. Still, you're embarrassed, and you feel the need to explain yourself just a little. "It felt like my skin was on fire unless I did. It still feels like that, though - like it just wasn't enough, I guess."

"I can smell it on you.", Dick says lowly. Oh, God. That's hot. That's so, unbelievably hot - especially when you see his cock twitch again - but absolutely mortifying. You're torn between wanting to jump on him, right here and now, and retreating back to your room. You compromise by burying your face in your hands, and letting out a pathetic whine to signal how fucked-up you are right now. Maybe you can calm down, now that you don't feel on the verge of a panic attack from being away from him, if you take a few deep breaths.

Naturally, Dick hardly gives you the chance. You feel his hand come to rest on your knee out of nowhere; it's a gentle touch, but you can feel him trembling, and the touch sends a bolt of electricity through you that's strong enough to make you jolt. "I want to help you. The whole point of these pheromones is to make it so that you need touch - it only hurts because we're not getting that. So, I can-", he says raspily, punctuating the pause with a reassuring squeeze to your lower thigh, "-touch you, just... platonically, if that's what you want. What you need."

His voice drops down an octave with the last sentence - you whine again, involuntarily, but you just about manage to turn the sound into words.

"Dick, you don't have to - we can just push through this, I know it'll be uncomfortable for you - I mean, I know it's not like we haven't hugged and stuff before, but this is different, I don't want you to feel forced because you feel bad for me."

Dick must lean forward, closer to you, because his palm slides further up your thigh. The pain that prickles insistently under your skin is beginning to turn into fiery heat: not unpleasant, but desperate, hot, and you're starting to feel like you're not going to be able to stop if he asks you to touch him. "I don't feel bad for you.", he insists, reaching up with his free hand to peel your hands away from your eyes. He curls his fingers around yours as he continues. "I just want to make you feel better - both of us feel better. See, it's already helping, right? Just relax. This is bad enough as it is."

His thumb starts to trace circles on the inside of your thigh. It's nowhere near high enough to be considered sexual, but the movement has your legs almost trembling. You wonder if he can feel the tension of your muscles. "It's... it doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you.". And, technically, you're not lying: it doesn't hurt, in fact it feels fucking incredible. You spent fifty-two minutes trying to replicate this sensation. He's only touching your thigh, it has no business feeling this good, but each little beat of his thumb has waves of pleasure crashing through you. God, how good would it feel to fuck him like this? You're shaking, and you know it, and it only makes him tug you by the hand to stand up.

Even the loss of his touch on your thigh feels devastating, but Dick's next words are more comfort than you could have imagined possible. "Here. Come sit, if you want.", he says - whispering again, voice so low and so deep, but it's just the effects of the pollen, you tell yourself - and gestures to his thigh. "You can lean back into me, don't worry, it'll be better for your back."

This has to feel as good for him as it does for you. Logically, it has to. You've both breathed in the same pollen, his skin has the same sheen of sweat that you can feel on your own skin, you're both trembling in every part of your body, and he's still rock hard. You can feel yourself leaking, god, enough that it might have dampened your leggings and left a wet spot on the desk. What would Dick do, if he saw that? He's clearly turned on, but maybe he still has the good sense to avoid fucking: maybe his view of you as 'just platonic' is so deeply ingrained, he would never touch you down there to feel how wet he's made you. Or, maybe he wants you like you want him.

"Are - are you sure?", you stammer. You can't stop looking at his lap. His cock, painfully obvious (and he mustn't care, because he blatantly drew your attention to it), and the corded muscle of his thighs, spread out straight to form you a perch.

"Mhmm...", he hums from somewhere deep in his chest, and suddenly you're grateful that he's still holding your hand, because the sound almost makes your knees buckle. He tugs gently. "Only if you want to be close to me, though."

He says that like an afterthought - like he knows exactly what you want, and like he's hungry for your touch and doesn't want to consider the idea that you don't want to give him it. You can't bring yourself to look at him before you move to sit in his lap, because you know he'll see the desire, and for now, you're still pretending that you don't want to push him down in that chair and ride him for hours. He'd like that, you think. He'd like it if you pulled his hair while you did it.

Dick lets go of your hand so he can take your waist in both hands, guiding you down onto his lap and gripping harder when your ass inadvertently brushes over his cock. You don't mean to do it, of course, and you jump like you've been shocked: you shuffle further down his thigh to avoid another mishap, but the movement causes your pussy to just barely drag against the hard muscle - you hardly manage to control your moan, forced to sink your teeth into your lip. Thankfully, Dick doesn't seem to notice, and he helps you lean back so his chest is pressed to your back, before lifting his arms to rest on the armrests. From here, he begins to rub soothing lines up and down your arms, and he tips his cheek down to rest against your shoulder with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck, that... yeah, that feels better.", you practically gasp. Feeling him pressed up against the entire length of your body, as torturous as it is, is the most relief you've gained all evening; his legs are shaking just enough that you can feel it in your core, though, and you're forced to tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder. You'll lose your fucking mind if you don't start to relax, he's right.

With your neck exposed, though, you can feel Dick's hot breath tickling your skin when he speaks. "Good, right? It feels good?". For the first time, you really hear the tension in his voice. So much so that you can't pass it off as your own projections, or a trick of his tone - he's just as desperate as you are, holy shit, he sounds halfway to begging, he sounds like he's dying to know that his touch is making you feel good. Your hips twitch of their own accord.

"Yeah... Dick?", you whisper after a few moments. He nods in response against your shoulder, a slow, dragging movement that feels like honey dripping through your veins from the point of contact. "Are you really warm, too, or like - is that just me? I - I feel like I'm burning up... Do you mind if I..." - you trail off, instead opting to tug cautiously at the hem of your shirt.

He sucks in a deep, rapid breath that you feel press against your back. For a moment, you worry that you've gone too far - it feels so good, but it's too weird, too strange for him even now - but then he slowly curls his fingers around the hem, replacing your own hands, and starts to pull upwards at a torturous pace. His knuckles drag over your lower abdomen for just a second and your hips twitch again, and he definitely felt it this time but he says nothing, and his breathing is warm and fast against the skin of your neck; with the shirt discarded, you're left in nothing more than a thin bra. Although the room feels warm, furnace-hot, you're all too aware of the blatant hardness of your nipples, and you tell yourself it's okay, he won't notice, because you're facing away and he won't - his palm drags against your breast on the way back down and it feels so good, too good, and you can't help but whimper, "Fuck, yes-"

Three things happen in quick succession. Dick freezes, you realise what you've done and move to jump up and run for the hills, and then Dick grabs your hips and pulls you back into him, right over his cock, this time. The friction makes both of you let out a breathy sigh, but where you clap a hand over your mouth, Dick follows it up with a hoarse proposition. "I can touch you properly, if you want. It'll make all this go away, I promise - do you want me to?", he rasps, pressing one, quick kiss to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. "Do you want me to touch you?"

His grasp on your hips is tight, wanting, but gentle enough that you know he wouldn't stop you if you tried to leave again. When you make no move to do so - you're frozen, you can't believe he's just offered to do what your body is screaming for - Dick pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your ass over his cock and then pushing you back down. He repeats the motion a few times, rolling his own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto him. Dick rewards you with a quiet moan - oh, you want him to do that again, you're going to make him do that again, louder and louder - and then, with a touch so light you could cry, he traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

One finger traces your slit through your leggings, and you hear yourself moan, but you're hardly aware of making the noise - just this simple touch feels almost as good as the orgasm you had earlier, even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once. This is what you needed, more than anything, for Dick to touch you and drag you down onto his cock, and you're so overwhelmed that every muscle in your body goes lax, leaving you to collapse into his chest.

Dick rubs gently at your pussy a few more times, like he's exploring you, and then suddenly he taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and he sighs against your neck. "God, I can feel how wet you are already. You should have told me, I would've done something sooner, you know that - fuck, you're so wet, let me - let me finger you, huh? Please?"

"Yeah - please, Dick.", you whine, and when you say his name, he moans and shoves his cock up against you again. He mumbles something into your skin that you don't quite make out, and then his hand is fumbling with your waistband, clumsily slipping into your underwear and then he's there, his fingers are brushing right against your clit, you sob out a broken cry - you're so wet that his fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time he reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Your pussy instantly clenches down, hard, and you feel more full than you thought could be possible. Dick moans into the skin of your neck and gives you a moment to calm down, to soothe the desperate jolting of your hips, before he starts to pump his fingers; slowly, at first, but soon picking up into a faster and more urgent pace. With each movement, he scissors his fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and he starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? Is this what you need?"

You fling an arm behind you to grasp at his hair, and when you tug after a particularly delicious curl of his fingers, he bites down hard onto your shoulder. "Fuck, yes, yes - please don't stop, please, Dick, don't stop-"

"I'm not going to stop, don't worry, I've got you - I'm here, I'm not gonna stop, you sound too pretty for me to stop, fuck - I knew you would sound pretty, keep making those noises for me."

Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that he's given up on pumping his fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach - "I think I'm close, Dick, - oh, oh, oh my god, I don't - it's never felt like this before, I don't - fuck-"

"I know, I know, baby-", he croons, and the pet name has you tugging at his hair again, the other hand white-knuckled on the armrest, "-it's okay, it's gonna feel different - it's gonna feel better, I promise, it's going to be so good, I'm going to get you there, baby, come on."

"Fuck - fucking - Jesus, Dick, keep going, just like that-!", you all but shout, and Dick continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of his hand means the heel of his palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into his hand - god, you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you, you feel the contractions start a few seconds before it actually hits you and it's going to be earth-shattering, you know it, every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Dick whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming-

Distantly, you can feel his fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting - and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto his lap - but other than that, all you know is the white-flash across your vision and the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once: this is better than anything you've ever felt, better than every orgasm put together, and it feels feels for a moment like you're actually going to black out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure.

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Dick is heaving for breath against your shoulder, but it's nothing compared to the way your own lungs are screaming for air - god, you think you were screaming, given the scratching sensation in your throat - and his fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. It hurts, a little, but this one orgasm has done nothing to sate your desperate hunger: in fact, it's only made it worse, only increased your desire for him, and you swear his cock is impossibly harder against your ass now.

"You - you're dripping onto my hand, baby, oh my god...", Dick pants, and there's a heartbeat where neither of you move - then, you feel his breath hitch, and suddenly his other hand is shoving unceremoniously under your waistband and going straight for your clit. He picks up the pace with the two fingers still inside you, matching each curl with a flick over your clit, and the motions are all so frenzied, those of a man possessed with some ravenous desire, like his one purpose is to have you writhing in his lap, and you give a wordless cry - too overcome with blinding pleasure to actually make a sound - that allows you to hear his ragged words. "Please, give me another one, one more - I want to make you squirt this time, it's going to be so good, I promise, just give me one more, pretty girl-"

This time, it's not just one wave of pleasure, spreading from your core and emanating outwards; no, it's wave after wave after wave, violently crashing over you and completely overcoming every part of your body, unrelenting and constant - this one lasts at least twice as long as the last, but you're hardly in the right state of mind to keep track of time, and every wave of pleasure that rushes through you is tenfold stronger than the last. You hear yourself shriek his name in the most pathetic, broken tone, and Dick cages you in against his body as best as he can as he keeps both hands working at your pussy, and you realise you're sobbing when he finally, finally stops.

When his fingers slip out of your pussy and exit your leggings, they're dripping wet. Dick audibly gasps, and then he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes you can see the most fucked-out look on his face just at the taste of your cum. He licks his fingers clean - you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight - before opening his eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "You taste so fucking good - baby, I'm not going to be able to stop, I'm sorry, I need this, I need to fuck you - please."

He's asking permission, you realise. Neither of you are in control of what you're doing anymore, and he's still asking, as best as he can, if he's allowed to fuck you. There's a terrified look in his eyes, behind the frenzy and the lust - you clumsily crash your lips against his. He tastes of your juices, but it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, and he moans openly into your mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his own. You're exhausted, but kissing him renews your energy tenfold. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to feel his cock - inside you, yes, but you want to see it first, you want to make him cry out and moan and gasp for you - so you manoeuvre in his lap, keeping your mouth against his, to straddle his narrow hips and face him.

"Ah - ah, god, that feels amazing.", Dick moans, broken up between sloppy kisses, saliva starting to drip down both of your chins - but it's hot, so hot - as you frantically reach down to palm at him. The instant you finally touch his cock, you're gone: there's no stopping now that you can feel how achingly hard he is, now that you feel how he twitches under your hand each time you kiss him, and it takes much longer than you would like to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants, pull them down, and wrap your hand around the exposed length of him. He hisses as his whole body jerks.

Instantly, you set a frenzied pace of stroking him, relishing in each ragged moan that you rip from his throat; he's leaking into your palm, you realise, dripping over your fingers as you pull him back by the hair and attach your lips to his neck. When you suck a bruise into the softest part of his skin - the salty-sweat-tangy hollow beneath his Adam's apple - he shouts out your name, loud, followed by, "-fuck, fu- let me fuck you, baby, please, I - I'm close, you have to stop-"

"Come on my hand, Dickie.", you plead, and you're granted a thick spurt of precum when you lick a stripe up the column of his throat: he tastes so good, his skin so hot under your mouth, you can't stop, and you croon right into his ear, "It's - it's gonna last for hours, still, you're still gonna be hard - I'm still so needy for you, Dickie, look - come on my hand, let me see it, please. You can fuck me after, just come for me where I can watch it, oh - oh, please." His moans start to pick up in volume and frequency, coming from a place deeper in his throat. He's close, you know.

You've started to grind onto his thigh somewhere along the way. It feels amazing, it feels even better because you know he's twitching and aching for you just inches away - once you finally drag yourself out of the crook of his neck, you see that you've left a damp streak on his sweatpants in the wake of your hips, and the steady stream of precum leaking from his cock has soaked the material higher up. "Come on, Dickie, come on, let me see you come, I wanna see it, I - I'll, fuck, I'll lick it clean after, Jesus-", you blurt out, too far gone to be horrified at the ease with which the words spill from your lips.

"Oh, baby, shit-” he cries, and then his voice dissolves into a broken jumble of incoherent mumbles and whines. His cock twitches hard in your palm, once, twice, three times against the rapid pace you maintain on him, and then Dick bucks his hips up into your hand, back arched, perfectly still and tense; he comes hard, almost whimpering, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, looking so, so perfect as you stroke him through it and grind feverishly onto his thigh. It's the image of his cock that has the breath snatched from your chest, though. Several thick ropes of cum spurt from him as you work him through it, some hitting the skin of your abdomen and some dripping down the length, and it just keeps going, no sign of stopping until Dick completely collapses, after almost a minute of moaning and coming - your hand is drenched with him.

The sight of his cum dripping from your palm makes something in your stomach clench hard, painfully, and suddenly you need to taste him, you have to, it hurts so much and it'll go away as soon as you get your mouth on him. You scramble off the chair, almost falling to your knees in front of him - he rushes to steady you, even with weak and shaky arms - but you don't care about how graceful you look right now. As soon as you manage to nestle yourself between thighs, you lick flat up the underside of his cock. The taste of it makes your eyes roll back in your head. Dick spits, "Holy shit!", and it trails off into a deep gasp as you wrap your lips around him and sink down as far as you can go. You'd take your time, usually, but everything in your body is screaming for you to taste him, let him fill you, and you're in no position for argument.

With each dip of your head - punctuated with a moan from the man above you, each one becoming closer to a growl, animalistic, and you think the pollen is beginning to send your bodies into total overdrive now - you take him as deeply as you can. You're nearly gagging, but that's what you need. His hands tangle into your hair; at first, you can tell he's trying to be as gentle as he can, but that's soon overcome with a tight, guiding grip that pushes you further down onto his cock with each bob of your mouth. The burning heat under your skin is killing you now, too much to ignore, so you manage to shuffle out of your leggings and underwear and kick them away: Dick groans roughly, maybe because he can smell you more clearly now-

"Come here, pretty girl-", Dick says, sliding his hands from your hair to lift you up by the jaw. You mean to whine, perhaps beg him to let you back down, because he feels so good in your mouth - then you see the look on his face. He looks totally gone. Nothing like the Dick you know, warm and gentle and relaxed: his eyes are completely clouded over, lips parted and slick with saliva, brow furrowed with something between pain and carnal desire. You imagine you look much the same, with spit dripping from your chin, the heat you can feel burning your cheeks, and the wetness you feel running down the insides of your thighs. He meets your eyes, and there's a moment of stillness. One thumb slips from your cheek to trace over your lower lip.

Then, both of you move at once - you surge forward to kiss him again, those perfect, pink lips - you fumble with the hem of his shirt, ripping it up and over his head while barely leaving his mouth for a second - Dick's hands slide down your body to your waist. He pulls you into him as he leans forward, half-supporting your weight, and suddenly your back is against the floor and he's on top of you, kissing you hard and bruising, the chair long since kicked away and forgotten about. Every inch of freshly exposed skin feels like molten silk under your touch: you slide greedy hands over his torso as he licks into your mouth, feeling the network of ridged scars and each ridge of muscle. Thankfully, Dick grants you a few precious, savoured moments to feel his skin, while he alternates between rolling his hips against your bare pussy and kicking off his sweatpants.

It's all ungraceful and clumsy - wet kisses stolen between your movements, each of you moaning against the other's lips - and it takes much, much too long for both of you to finally shed yourself of all your clothes. Dick's hands grab greedily at your breasts as he ruts his hips against you a few times, and you can feel how your wetness spreads over his cock. Then, his hands fly down to find your knees, and he drags them to fit around his waist, pulling up until your hips are fully tilted, the stretch of your muscles verging on uncomfortable. "Oh, fuck, that's it, baby. Keep your legs there for me, won't you? Come on, wrap your legs around me - I want to get as deep as I can, it's gonna feel amazing, I promise.", Dick says, bordering on a growl now that his voice is so deep and strained, and you do as he says immediately. You need him inside of you, now; you hook your ankles behind his back, kiss him, and desperately grind your hips into his.

And then, with one deep roll of his hips, he's inside of you. One quick thrust and he's buried to the hilt, and, God, he fits inside you so perfectly: your body all but melts at the feeling of finally being filled, and you keen as you instinctively use your ankles to press his hips further into you. Dick's just large enough to stretch you out, even with how wet and ready you are, without becoming painful, and the pollen means it only takes you a short moment to adjust to his size before your body is pleading to be fucked. He's shaking and panting with restraint above you whimper, "Ho-holy fuck, Dickie, please... please move, oh my god."

"I know, baby, I know.", he says, breathlessly, voice tight with pleasure but still sympathetic. Even with him motionless inside you, it already feels so good, better than anyone you've ever fucked, and you can hardly stop yourself from grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him down, and riding him. "It just feels so good, you feel so good - I don't want to rush it, I want to make it last. Jesus, my body feels like it's on fire while I'm touching you, I - oh, fuck, I want to take it slow, make you feel so good you cry-"

"-We have all night to be slow, Dick, you can do whatever you want to me, just fuck me-"

Dick's hips roll into yours and a drawled curse falls from his parted lips. He pulls out, almost completely, enough that you panic and squeeze him tighter with your thighs, but then he pushes back into you, slowly, letting you savour the way each nerve ending inside your pussy is set ablaze; he repeats the motion, faster, his curses morphing into sweet mumbles of your name each time he bottoms out. You can hardly breathe - it feels so good, and each thrust of his hips is met with a pollen-driven roll of your own, so it's half-grinding, half-fucking - the slight curve of his cock has him dragging deliciously against your g-spot every time. His movements are picking up in intensity now, and you can tell the pollen is taking him over completely. The same is happening to you: fuck it, you don't want to think about the pollen anymore, you just want him.

"Ah, yes! Yes, right there-right- keep going-", you cry out after a particularly hard slam of his hips. Dick is propped up on one elbow, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and the other hand slips down to grab at your ass and pull you up into him. He's deep enough that it hurts, but it's the best pain you've ever experienced. "Fuck, faster, please!"

He obeys, mercifully, and you think you can see sweat starting to bead on his temples. "Is this what you need, pretty girl? Come on, tell me what you want - tell me I'm making you feel good, because you're making me feel so fucking good, I swear, better than I ever even imagined - fuck, you're so wet, are you going to come again? Please, please let me make you come on my cock."

The combination of his cock inside you, and his pelvis bumping against your clit, and the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body: it's all too much to bear, your body is going into total overdrive, and it's so embarrassing that he's got you like this. You never normally beg, you never normally come so fast, but this is different and addictive and incredible - you cry out an affirmation to his words, and suddenly his hand is gripping your chin. He's fully collapsed onto you now, and his movements are more frantic rutting than anything else.

"Look at me-", he pleads, using his hand to guide your face so you're staring right into those glassy eyes. "-look at me while you come, and it'll make me come."

You can feel your muscles beginning to tense up as your orgasm starts to grow. Already, your world is spinning, and you feel halfway to blacking out from the sheer intensity, so you tangle your hands into his hair as a way to ground yourself. "Please come inside me!", you whine - the idea of being filled with his cum, letting it drip out while he fucks another load into you, it's fucking mind-blowing and you can't imagine anything better than feeling him shoot into you while you come on his cock.

Dick's jaw clenches tightly. "Are - are you sure, baby? Is that what you want?"

The next thrust hits you perfectly, and you can't help but pull him tighter into you, so his head drops to the crook of your neck. "I need it, Dickie, you know - you know that - you need me too, right? Fuck, fuck - it's gonna feel so good, I'm so close-". He spends a few moments sucking a bruise into the most tender skin of your neck before moving to press his forehead to yours. Each rough movement of his hips has you jostling against the floor; your nipples are dragging against his chest every time, making you keen, and your swollen clit is being hit so perfectly by his hips, and he's making the most perfect and breathy noises against you - he looks so fucked-out, so gone, so completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock inside you, and your vision is starting to blur at the edges as the spark in your stomach finally bursts into flames-

"That's it, baby, come for me just like that.", Dick gasps, just as your orgasm rips through you. You've got no choice but to clutch at him desperately and ride out each devastating wave as a scream tears itself from your lungs: it feels like your body is tearing itself apart with each ripple of pleasure emanating from your core. Like your body is folding in on itself like a black hole does, when everything becomes too much to bear. You actually feel like you've died, you must have, this is too good and too much and too overwhelming - you hang on to Dick through it all, and your pussy clenches down so hard he can barely move inside you, and he chokes out your name before his own orgasm hits him.

You've come down just enough to process the way he looks and sounds as he comes. Your eyes are still hazy - you kept them on him, you must have - but you nearly come again at the mere sight of him. He's too far gone to even make sounds, and instead he stutters out broken breaths through wet lips, cheeks flushed and eyebrows furrowed hard, and his eyes stay fixed on you the whole time. Even as the rest of his body spasms and rocks into you uncontrollably, even as the hand on your chin slips down to your neck and squeezes, he keeps staring at you with all the lust in the world. The best part of it all, though, is how you feel his cum spilling out into you; even more than he shot onto your hand, somehow, and you realise you're crying from how relieved your body is. Fully, fully, crying, and Dick kisses away your tears as he collapses against you.

Despite how both of you are wincing at the overstimulation, neither of you ever stop moving through it all, and you keep grinding gingerly, carefully but sloppily, against each other even while you gasp for breath against each others' lips. It can't be more than ten seconds from when you come down, before you can't control the urge to whisper, "Give me another one, Dick, please. Keep fucking me." It hurts - it hurts because he's not fucking you, he's not moving enough - you need more.

Dick keeps rolling his hips against yours in shallow movements for a few seconds. His mouth is occupied with sucking more bruises into your neck, up your throat and across your jaw: he's mumbling something incoherent, slurring his words. Each fresh bruise has you gasping his name. You're going to be covered in marks after this - not just your neck, his grip on your ass and hips has been tight enough to leave bruises there, too - and you're entirely certain you've left scratch marks down his back. You nearly come again just at the thought of that; Dick, walking around for days with your marks left on him. Scratch marks under his dress shirts when he's on business, or under the tight material of his Nightwing suit, or blatantly visible through the obscenely sheer shirts he wears out clubbing. He's going to be marked as yours.

"You look so pretty like this, holy shit-", he says, pulling his head from your neck to admire his work. "You're so gorgeous - you always are, you always fucking are - but you look even better when you're mine, fuck-"

“-make me yours, then, please-"

You gasp in shock and disappointment as Dick suddenly pulls out, and his own face crumples at the loss of touch, but his palms are firm and insistent on your waist - he kisses you once, firmly, before he's manoeuvring your body like putty in his hands. You're flipped onto your stomach with another whisper of how pretty you are, and then Dick runs calloused palms down the soaked flesh of your thighs, up over your ass, over the curve of your spine and all the way up to gently, gently, press your cheek flat against the floor. He follows his hand with hot tongue, and when he reaches your ear, he murmurs, "You taste so good, pretty girl. Stay there for me. It's okay, let go. I've got you."

Uncontrollably, your ass jerks up and backwards against where his cock is pressing into you. He chuckles. He fucking laughs with his lips pressed to your cheek - maybe having came inside you has cleared his head enough that he can think straight enough to find your desperation funny - and one of his hands slides back down your body, spreading your pussy open for him to look at. You sense his body tense as he gazes at you. "...My cum is dripping out of you, oh my god."

Fuck it back into me, you think, but you're too far gone to string together a coherent sentence anymore. Your body can do the talking. You keep your cheek pressed to the floor, maybe because your muscles are too exhausted to lift your head, or maybe because it was so fucking hot how Dick pressed your head down, but you manage to meet his eyes. You plead with him as well as you can.

Dick's piercing blue eyes roll right back into his skull when he pushes into you again. From this angle, he feels even deeper than before: with one of his hands running lines up your spine, and his lips wet against the backs of your shoulders, and the steady, strong pace he sets fucking you, you're brought to the verge of tears again within minutes. You can hardly move your body to work with him in this position: he uses the weight of his body to press you into the floor, and each thrust of his hips has you moaning loud against the floor.

He brings a string of kisses and nips up your nape, so he can kiss your cheek again. It's sweet, a gentle gesture, only amplifying the pleasure that each deep snap of his hips brings. "I - I'm not hurting you, am I? I know it must be sensitive, baby, I understand if it's too much, I know - you can tell me if it's too much-"

"-no, please-", you whimper, terrified he's going to stop, "-it's so good, please, Dickie, you're exactly what I need-", and then your voice cuts out into a broken sob as one of his hand snakes between your body and the floor to find your clit. The rough pad of his finger brushes over it a few times, eliciting whimpers from you, before he settles for simply resting his finger on your clit. With each thrust, your hips are jostled against his finger just enough to send sparks of electricity shooting through your veins - every time, it feels like flames licking through each limb, and he's fucking into you so perfectly, claiming you with teeth at your neck, rasping your name against your skin - there's wetness against your cheek, like you're drooling, and you're almost certain you can feel the wetness of your pussy dripping onto his hand.

You're so swollen with desire, you can feel how tightly you're clenching down onto his cock. The mind-blowing pressure Dick's applying to your clit is only making it stronger. "You feel so good, baby. So, so, fucking good - holy shit, you're taking me so well." Then, there's a savage thrust of his hips, one that has both of you crying out in surprise and pleasure: he freezes buried to the hilt inside you. "You're going to make me come again soon, sweetie."

That means more of his cum inside you, more of his delicious moans and groans as he comes, and you say, "God, please-"

"-not yet, I want to make you come for me again. You feel so tight and hot when you do - I need it again, I want nothing more than that, please - you think you can give me another one, huh? One more for me?"

"I - I - yeah.", you stammer. You can, you know you can - your body is practically vibrating from how hard you're trembling on the edge of another orgasm - but you don't know when it's going to stop, you don't know it ever will - maybe this will go on all night, maybe he'll fuck you for hours on end and make you cry and let you lick your mess of his cock. But maybe it won't. Maybe your body will give out, or the pollen will leave his system: this will end and nothing will ever compare. You don't want to come again if it means the end of this pleasure. "...Promise you'll keep going after, Dickie."

Dick starts rubbing rapid circles on your clit with his ring and index finger, and kisses your hairline to soothe you as you sob again. "I'm only going to stop if you ask me to, baby, I promise. You feel too good to stop, I swear - I never thought you would be so fucking perfect, but now I know, I can't stop - I'm right here, I've got you, I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your name if that's what you want."

God, you're going to come again, holy shit-

He hardly gives you the chance to come back around before he's crooning, "-one more, one more for me, right on my cock like that-"

You can't even breathe. Your lungs are on fire, your vision is completely blacked out even once the second orgasm ends, your muscles and bones have turned into mush and you can't feel anything other than the sensation of flying. You're weightless, Dick is the only thing grounding you - he coaxes you down from the aftershocks with soft kisses to your cheek, and his hand tracing circles onto your aching hip, and the muscles of his abdomen are flexing with restraint against your back. "I'm gonna come, baby-", he hisses, and you manage the barest nod and then he sinks his teeth right into your shoulder as he starts pounding into you like a whore, fuck, it's sending you spiralling out of control again-

"Fuck, yes, take my cum like that, that's it, keep coming for me, holy shit-"

You're both boneless and drenched in sweat by the end of it. You're collapsed against the floor, Dick's collapsed against you, and he's still hard inside of you. You can feel his cum - it must have spilled out onto the insides of your thighs, judging by the wetness you feel there. His cock twitches inside of you with every ragged breath he takes. You're so exhausted; this is destroying your body, it's ripping you apart from the inside out, and you're terrified that if you come again it'll split you into pieces. And you want that. You twist your body, wincing against the waves of pleasure that crash over you at even the slightest movement of his cock inside you, and kiss him.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #dc #dcu #batman #batfam #kinktober #smut #dick grayson smut #sex pollen

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redorich · 4 years

Text

Out of This World

Niki watches despairingly as her new roommate, one Mr. Wilbur Soot, once again pours water into his cereal. He seems to prefer it that way; Niki can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, whether her roommate is a literal alien from outer space, or just the weirdest motherfucker she’s ever met.

What kind of a last name is Soot, anyway? She thinks to herself unkindly. At least he doesn’t leave dirty clothes on the floor for her to clean up like her last roommate did. But seriously, Niki can’t tell if this man is a crackhead or not.

“Niki, can you pass the salt?” Wilbur says, breaking her out of her reverie. Without thinking, she plucks it from the lowest shelf of the tiny kitchen cabinet and hands it to him. She regrets it instantly when he begins to salt his cereal.

Breathing deeply so as not to grab him by his bony shoulders and shout, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”, she flees the scene of the food crime. When Niki was in college, she was surrounded by people who asserted they had the world figured out. Atoms and gravity and wavelengths. But Niki knows that humanity is desperate to control the uncontrollable, define that which cannot be explained. Science, Niki knows, isn’t just throwing out what doesn’t fit, but rather taking all the data and asking the question, “Why?” So, she thinks, let’s consider the data.

-------

Niki sneaks trepidatiously to the door to Wilbur’s bedroom. Who knows what sort of unholy, confusing mess he’s got in there, lurking in wait for its next unsuspecting victim. A pinch of guilt hits her. Yeah, Wilbur may be a lunatic, but an alien? Really? It’s a bit uncharitable of her to think such a thing. Shaking herself, she knocks on the door.

“Yes?” Wilbur’s voice carries from inside the room. “Come in.”

Steeling herself, she turns the doorknob with a sweaty palm and is faced with…

A bed. A desk with a computer on it. Two pairs of shoes lined neatly near the closet. Wilbur is taking off his headphones-- he was playing Minecraft. How… ordinary of him.

“Hi, Wilbur. Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted, uh, to see how you were settling in.”

Wilbur smiles his pretty smile. “Thank you. Quite unaccustomed am I to the comforts of-- apartments.”

What Yoda-ass kind of phrasing is that? Niki thinks. A figurine of the marshmallow man from Ghostbusters stares her down from its place on Wilbur’s desk. She meets its eyes warily.

“Oh! Noticed my Ghostbusters statuette, have you?” Wilbur says brightly. “I have more in my closet, if you should like to see them.”

Niki is filled with a sick sense of curiosity. Yes, she wants to see whatever insane thing Wilbur hides in his closet, but she also doesn’t. She idly wonders if Wilbur has ever read The Cask of Amontillado. She feels like he has. This is not comforting.

Wilbur doesn’t sense her hesitation. A small corner of her brain thinks it’s because he’s unfamiliar with human body language. Without pause, Wilbur opens the closet door, revealing…

Niki’s first thought is, where does he keep his clothes? Because the closet is filled with Ghostbusters paraphernalia. The entire. Fucking. Closet. It wasn’t even that great of a movie?? How much did Wilbur spend on this, anyway?

Her roommate misinterprets her blank uncomprehending stare as a marveling gaze. He puffs up proudly.

“Such a profound impact have these movies made! I am truly fortunate to have met a lass of such upstanding artistic caliber, that you should also enjoy the Ghostbusters franchise.”

“Thank you for showing me this,” she says slowly. “I need to-- water the dog. I mean, I left the stove on. At my friend’s house. Uh, see you later.”

She beats a hasty retreat, leaving her apartment for Eret’s place. Something whispers in the depths of her mind: Doesn’t one of the Ghostbusters movies have aliens in it?

-------

Orange is her favorite nail polish color. Eret paints the nails on her right hand in that soft warm shade of orange as he listens to her complain.

“Am I being irrational? Like, do you think I’m going too far?”

Eret hums noncommittally, putting a little flamingo sticker on her index nail. “He does sound like an unusual person, but I don’t know if I would say he’s an alien.”

Niki nods her head, since she can’t gesture with her hands. “Okay, yeah, sure-- but he puts salt in his cereal with water. He has a literal dragon’s hoard of memorabilia from shitty movies that came out like three decades ago. And his vibe is just...off. Like when I talk to him, he’s there, but his head’s drifting off somewhere in outer space. God, I’m the worst.”

Eret protests. “Hey, hey, you’re not the worst. Look. I don’t know why this dude is bugging you out so much, but you said he didn’t seem dangerous, right?”

Niki nods dejectedly.

“So, we can figure this out together,” Eret says with a flourish, screwing the top back onto the bottle of polish.

The tender moment is interrupted by Niki’s ringtone. It’s from Wilbur; speak of the devil and he shall appear. Gingerly, so as not to ruin the wet paint on her nails, she picks up the phone and puts it on speaker. “Hello?” she says, motioning for Eret to remain quiet.

“Ahoy, Niki! Wherefore are mine frog legs gone?”

“What?” Eret mouths at her. Niki doesn’t understand either.

“Sorry, Wilbur, what was that?”

“My frog legs,” comes the crackly timbre of a phone in an area with poor reception. “They are no longer in the refrigerator.”

Niki sputters. “Why did you have frog legs in the-- no, never mind. I don’t know what happened to your frog legs, Wilbur.”

The phone line repeats static to her for a moment as Wilbur pauses. “Interesting. Perhaps they walked away, as legs are so oft wont to do. Niki, would you mind dearly to purchase some more? And perhaps, be you willing, some condensed milk?”

Eret silently gags at the idea of frog legs and condensed milk together. Niki doesn’t blame him.

“Okay,” Niki says.

Eret shakes his head at her, as though begging her not to torture herself like this. The moment Niki hangs up, the first words out of Eret’s mouth are, “That man is one hundred percent an alien. I am so sorry I ever doubted you.”

-------

With frog legs, condensed milk, and an Eret in tow, Niki enters her apartment the following morning with new-found assurance. The rest of the evening goes about as normal as it can, with Wilbur humming nursery rhymes and stirring a pot of, quite frankly, poison. Niki and Eret hide in the living room watching all the Ghibli movies until the only light left comes from the TV in front of them. The front door opens and the floors creak as Will enters. I thought he was in his room?

Eret seems to be on the same page as her. “I didn’t hear him leave,” he says, distant fear in his eyes.

Niki’s ears pick up a faint sound. “Shh!” she hisses. “He’s on the phone.”

Though the apartment is dark (the only light being the TV), Wilbur’s eyes glow like an animal caught on camera. Niki shivers. She only barely catches a glimpse before he ducks back into the entrance hallway, but what she sees unnerves her.

“Philza, calm down,” Wilbur says from the hallway as he takes off his shoes. “It is fine, she suspects not.”

A pause. The other person on the line, Philza, is talking.

Wilbur replies, “She was impressed with my Ghostbusters collection, you know-- Ghostbusters is a great movie, fuck off!”

Another pause. Wilbur sighs.

“Aye, I must admit you may have been right on that one. Pretending to be human is--”

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

Wilbur’s head peers around the hallway’s corner in a panic to see Niki and Eret. Niki is pointing her finger at Wilbur with pride on her face, and Eret looks as though he wants to be doing the same thing.

The two in the living room both flush a bit at the outburst, but Niki doggedly continues. “You’re an alien!”

Even though Wilbur’s phone isn’t on speaker, Niki and Eret hear Philza’s laughter from all the way across the room. Wilbur sputters and angrily hangs up the phone, before turning the corner to properly face the two humans. His eyes are actually glowing, it wasn’t a trick of the light, Eret observes. Of course, he also notes that Wilbur’s eyes are the size of dinner plates, and he looks about ready to jump out the window to run from them.

“I am… not an alien,” Wilbur says softly.

“Wh-- but you just said--” Eret says, then cuts himself off when Wilbur phases through the fucking floor.

“He’s a ghost,” Niki whispers, all the pieces clicking into place. Old English, weird taste in food, Ghostbusters are you kidding me. If Niki didn’t just watch her roommate evaporate, she’d be banging her head against a wall and asking her professors to revoke her degree.

Wilbur phases back up through the floor, much closer this time but still hesitant. He sits down a few feet away from the pair of humans nervously. He’s more afraid of us than we are of him, Niki thinks. Like the bears at the zoo.

“For many years, observed the living have I,” Wilbur begins slowly. “I wished to commune with them once again, as one of their own. My father-- Philza-- said unto me that I knew nothing of the modern era. I confess that he was right. Willst you cast me out of your home, knowing now of the spectre that I am?”

Niki tries and fails to suppress the amused quirk of her eyebrow. “How about this: Eret and I show you the ropes of being alive in the 21st century, and in return, you keep the frog legs on your side of the fridge?”

Wilbur smiles that pretty smile again. “Deal.”

-------

“Niki? What is an OnlyFans?”

FIN

#this was a collab written with barnaclegirl on discord #she doesnt have a tumblr so i cant tell yall to follow her :(#mcyt #nihachu #wilbur soot #eret #philza #ph1lza #me.txt #dream smp

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pretoriafics · 4 years

Text

Ten Nights With… Derek Hale - The Second Night

Remember: My requests are open. Remember²: English is not my main language, so I’m sorry if my writing maybe sounds bad for you.

Let’s get started?

Word count: 2.792 Contain: Hunter!Reader, arguing, a little bit of shame Warnings: Inappropriate language +16 only Inspired by the music 3 nights, by Dominic Fike Versão em português aqui FIRST NIGHT | THIRD NIGHT COMING SOON

The storm ended up lasting all night, and both of you were forced to sleep in the car. When morning came, Derek searched on Google Maps - a little hurriedly, as his cell phone battery was running low - a motel or anywhere else so you could spend the nights to come. You had wasted gas when, unsuccessfully, you tried to return to Beacon Hills. That meant that you couldn't afford to go to a distant motel, which significantly reduced your choice of accommodation options, in addition to posing yet another problem to be solved. The closest stay was the Beverly Sunset Inn, a small and comfortable hotel with a small pool and views of the mountains. Both of you drew up a plan and finally agreed on something: You would stay at the hotel, and he would get gas from the nearest gas station as soon as possible. You were still wearing his shirt, with your jeans that were now dry, when you and Derek entered the hotel reception with masks on your faces, covering your noses and mouths. Your hair was a mess, completely tangled from the rain from the night before. The Lumen was in a backpack on your back, and you had started to think of a way to hide the book. After all, you had no idea who was staying at that hotel. The concierge's eyes went from the computer screen to both of you in a second, with his eyebrows raised in an expression that you recognized as slightly startled. What was a shirtless man and a completely disheveled woman doing there? Should he call the police? Derek was the first to speak. "Good morning," He looked at the name of the concierge on the nameplate. “Adam. My ex-wife and I need a room with two beds. ” Oh, was he trying to test your patience by calling you "ex-wife"? Without much choice, you forced a smile to the concierge, who continued to stare at you both. It was your turn to speak. “We had to spend the night on the road, because of the barrier. The storm prevents us from driving, so ... ”You indicated yourself, exposing the complete chaos your appearance was in, giving the employee an overview of the situation. His expression lit up, all suspicion falling to the ground. “Oh! The barrier! Yeah, it took by surprise a lot of people. We have several other guests who also had problems with it… ”Adam let out a light, friendly laugh as he was looking for a room on the computer. You returned the laugh to him. “Well, guys… I'm sorry, but we don't have a room with two beds. In fact, we only have the master suite available. ” Your expression faded instantly, becoming a serious one. Derek remained impassive. How did he do it? Before he could say anything, you addressed the concierge. “Ah, what a pity. Alright then, thank you very much! ” You turned your back to leave when Hale took your wrist, stopping you. You looked at him indignantly. "We have no choice." He said, seriously. "Gasoline is running out, the less we spend, the better." “Had you heard what the concierge said, didn't you? He has no room available. We can go to the nearest gas station and look for another hotel. ” The concierge looked from Derek to you as if he were watching a tennis match. "It's risky, we can run out of gas in the middle of the road." “We don't even know how close the nearest gas station is, Derek! You have a cell phone with Google Maps, just look at the distance! For God's sake, I don't want to have to sleep with you. ” Hale crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed that clearly mocked you. "You didn't complain about that in the car." Your mouth opened in pure outrage, your face starting to heat up. Now, that had been an isolated incident! You were wet and cold, and the options were scarce. He couldn't use that against you, could he? You had barely arrived, and you were already irritated by the thought of having to sleep in the same bed as a damn werewolf. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to reason. Okay, maybe he was right. And, God, you hated it when he was right. All you could do, at that moment, was to hope that not only did you not have a hunter there, but that they never found out that you spent the night with a werewolf - something you should be hunting. Your reputation in the hunting world was important. Seeing your silence, Hale just turned back to the concierge. "Let's keep this room." Adam blinked consecutively at the whole situation. He nodded and then started asking for Hale's data. You just handed your SSN to Derek and walked away from him, mad at the Alpha. But then, you realized that you were being watched by a woman. She wore a white mask, and the elevation of her cheekbones indicated that she was smiling at you. Just for politeness, you gave her a brief nod. And she approached. Oh, shit. “Did you come here with your husband for Mary's group therapy for couples? Oh, how great to meet another couple willing to improve the relationship! ” Your eyes widened, and your face turned red again. Before you could say anything to the woman, Adam the Concierge said it out loud. “Okay, Mr. Hale, your suite's number is 357. Your service includes a bottle of wine on the house and a few body oils for massages… Uhn… Well, maybe you don't use it, but, you know, it's my job to inform you about these things. ” "Are you hosted in the 357 suite?" The woman looked at you, delighted and excited “It's the most romantic room. It has an incredible view, I'm sure you will leave that suite with the chosen name of your babies! Oh, do you have children?” You froze. Derek was looking at you from a distance, and you were pretty sure he was even having a little fun with your situation. "Ah, n-no, we ..." A throat clearing can be heard: It was Derek. Finally. "Can we go now?" He indicated the stairs leading to the bedrooms. Disconcerted by the woman's sudden appearance and what she was saying, you just nodded at him and looked at the woman again. "Uh, what's your name?" "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart!" She let out a soft laugh, "My name is Lorraine." "Oh ok. I am (Y/N). Well, Lorraine, I have to go. I really need to relax and take a shower.” “Sure, sure. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Hale! ” You let out a nervous laugh as you strode towards the stairs. Derek was right beside you, with the keys to the suite. He gave you a weak laugh, clearly amused by your situation. "Did you see? You have already made a friendship. ” “Hale, If you like to live, you better shut up. And where did you get this ex story? ” Your look was one of pure indignation. “What's wrong with, I don't know, I being your cousin, or something? I might as well be your adopted sister. ” “The concierge was thinking something else about the situation. I had to think fast, I didn't want him to call the police. And you're wearing my shirt.” You swallowed hard. It was unbelievable how Derek take away your ability to reason. Defeated, you let out a long sigh as he opened the door to the 357's Suite. The Beverly Sunset Inn was not a luxury hotel. You could classify it in the average standard - that is, it was not a luxury hotel, but it was also not the one in which you would think that Coronavirus itself originated on one of the facility's rotten mattresses. It was comfortable, but there were better ones out there. The 357's suite had led lights on the roof, and a spacious white canopy bed with a veil of the same color. In front of it, a long gas fireplace. The room had no windows, just a large glass door that gave access to the balcony. And Lorraine was right: The room had a stunning view of the mountains and the blue sky, and you blushed. That room would have been perfect if you had gone with someone special, not Derek fucking Hale. In fact, the Alpha seemed quite at ease. Damned self-confidence! He entered the room, throwing the car keys and his mask on the nightstand. You closed the door behind you, left your mask on the armchair next to the fireplace, and placed the backpack on the floor. Then, you took the Lumen out of there and your pocket knife from your boots. Derek's voice was soon present from the balcony door. "Where are you going to hide the Lumen?" "In a place that I don't think someone will find." You walked to the bathroom and took out the black bag that was stuck in the trash. You wrapped the Lumen in it, as a way to isolate all the material that was toxic to Derek, and then, you took your pocket knife. You threw the blankets and the mattress sheet up a little and made a tear in the seam. It was invisible to anyone who came in to turn the room over. There, you stuck the book in and arranged the tear to make it invisible. "Done. Even if someone throws the mattress through the bedroom, they will never find the book.” You said, getting up and tidying up the little mess you made in bed. Derek had his arms crossed. "I hope it works." "Me too. Well ... I'm going to take a shower. I need it.”

* * *

You lost a few minutes in the bathtub in the suite bathroom, and the water seemed to take all the stress out of your body. Derek, on the other hand, discovered a small clothing boutique at the hotel and tried to buy some clothes for you. Surprisingly, he was right about your sizes. In fact, he watched - secretly, after all, you are a hunter - your body, so it was not difficult for him to assume which size you used. When it was his turn to go to the shower, you decided to go out and explore the hotel. Fortunately, you had not met any hunters known to you. On the other hand, you found out that the hotel was with a significant number of people who had gone for group therapy for couples. According to the poster, the therapist would do a series of activities that included games and diverse dynamics as a way to promote harmony between couples. During your tour, you tried your best to escape from Lorraine. To be called “Mrs. Hale ”made you freeze. And then, as soon as you returned to the bedroom, you and Derek were enveloped in the evil that plagued everyone in social distancing: Boredom. The night came. The sky was clear and starry, and the moonlight with the dim light from the fireplace gave the room the sensual vibe that you definitely didn't want. So you chose to just keep the lights on. In a way to try to avoid that unbearable boredom, you and Derek ended up asking for that bottle of wine that Adam mentioned. You were sitting on the bed, a glass of wine in one hand. Hale, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor with his back against the bed. "At least the wine is good." You said as you looked at the glass, trying to see something good during all that chaos. “It's not my type of drink, but I think it will fix for awhile. It is not bad." You raised your eyebrows. "You look like the kind of guy who drinks Jack Daniels." He gave a short laugh. "And you look like the type of woman who drinks martinis." You smiled and shook your head, amused. And then, a silence hung in the air. It was not an odd silence, but a comfortable one. Your eyes then went to Hale analytically: His broad shoulders were relaxed. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and you were still analyzing him. His chest slowly rose and fell, and the empty glass of wine moved slowly from side to side while Hale played with it almost unconsciously - which made you watch his hands. What had they already done? How much blood was there? How many women had already touched? As stupid as you might find that question that popped into your brain, you knew it was just a reflection of that little attraction you felt. And, damn, you had tried so desperately to hide those feelings under the carpet until it was gone! However, it eventually came back. The proof of that was you, who was simply analyzing his body language, had started to admiring every inch of his body suddenly. What was it like to be held by those hands? Dip your face in that neck and be surrounded by those arms? And what was it like to kiss those lips? They looked so soft ... "Do you want to make a painting?" His eyes opened and looked at you, his eyebrows arched, and his body was turned towards you. You rolled your eyes at his words, blushing for the thousandth time that day. "Fuck you, Derek." So, you looked at him. “It's just that I've never seen you so at peace. How did you become a ...? ” "It is from birth." He replied, understanding your question before you even finished it. Derek took the bottle of wine beside him on the floor and filled the glass with it a little more. You held your glass out to him in a silent request, and he filled it too. "How about you?" Hale put the bottle down next to him as soon as he filled your glass, and looked at you "How long have you been in this hunting world?" "Since I was sixteen." You drank the wine from the glass before continuing “I ran into a case in my high school. I investigated, went after, and solved it. Since then, I got a passion for hunting. I like the adrenaline, the adventure... It makes me feel alive. That's why I hunt. I never lost anyone to the things I hunt. ” Hale cracked his jaw. Suddenly, it looked like he had been bothered by something. You didn't catch it right until he let out a short, humorless laugh and opened his mouth to speak. “So you think I am a thing? Because I am definitely what you hunt. ” He was right: You hunt werewolves too, but it wasn't what you wanted to go through. His words had been like sharp blades, and you pressed your lips together in guilt. "I did not mean to say that you're a thing." “Hunters are incredibly similar. They think they're fucking heroes. ” Derek turned the wine glass over, drinking what was left. Then he got up with the bottle of wine. He put it in the fridge and left the glass on the nightstand. “I don't think I'm a hero, Derek. Stop with this drama." Okay, whatever. It will not change my life at all. I'm going to sleep." And there they were again, the cutting and hurtful words. You didn't even see them coming this time, being stunned. You didn't want to admit it, but you could feel your chest getting crushed. Hale lay beside you, his back to you, in silence. Shit. You imitated his gesture, turning the glass over in your mouth and finishing the wine it contained. You left the glass on your nightstand and turned off the lights, lying on the bed, your back to him. Your eyes stared at the bedroom wall, thinking about what had happened. The truth was that Derek, gradually, started to get used to and become attached to your presence - even if he didn't admit it out loud. That was why he was upset by your words: He didn't expect you to match to that secret attachment because you were a hunter. However, hearing what sounds like a confirmation about it from you had hurt him. You wanted to fix things. With your heart in pieces, you lost yourself in thoughts through the dawn, thinking about how to fix that situation. Derek was also unable to sleep properly. Having your scent so close was disconcerting. And that was your second night.

#teen wolf fics #teen wolf fanfics #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #derek hale x you #derek hale x y/n #derek hale x reader #derek hale fanfic #derek hale fics #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale fanfics #derek hale imagine #derek hale imagines

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delabor · 3 years

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☠ — ooc::

hello. i’ve returned from the interview. you guys were so nice propping me up yesterday i thought i’d update on how it went; it’s a little long; i made bullet points::

didn’t sleep well; for obvious reasons; but also i had a dream someone shot my cat & they d i e d. thanks brain::

got up in the middle of the night only to have to wait for two seprat e entities to have bathroom breaks before me so that was a nice middle of the night twenty minutes

got up a little bit late but no big deal i budgeted time for that

my mother calls to complain about having to fill out the census for fifteen minutes before i can get her off the phone. this cuts into the leeway time

i force down some food & hustle to the bus station just in time. i bring an umbrella. there are a lot of moths flying around as i leave my house. one hands on my hand. i think about this moth most of my journey to the interview.

wait for twenty five minutes; the bus doesn’t show up

fifteen minutes until i have to be there: i leave the station on hopes i can flag a taxi; have no phone data so uber’s not an option right now::

there are no taxis. i call for one; thank god it comes quickly::

it takes me to the wrong location. i am now supposed to be there.

it starts raining while i’m in the car. there is a thunderstorm warning. i’m still thinking about the moth. hope it’s doing okay.

i arrive five minutes late.

i walk in head empty & leave head empty. i don’t remember what i said for half the questions or why i said it. it’s good because i can’t overanalyze what i d i d say but it’s bad because i can’t improve on something i don’t recall. this isn’t a “i can’t recall what i said but i rattled off things i prepped.” no. i was head empty during as well. she would ask something & i would frantically try to scrape together something more than rocks & dust from the dry; cracked dirt of the barren field that was my brain; the second i left i knew all the answers i was supposed to say so there’s that::

she hinted at placing me in the location an hour from my house instead of the one two minutes away & said something about doing mostly hauling of heavy objects which is great; & not something i hate at all::

wait for the bus in the rain.

the bus driver doesn’t lower the bus. i struggle with my short baby legs onto the giant step & get lectured about how we should leave the bus shelter b e f o r e he rolls up to the stop because he wouldn’t see us through the glass & would drive past

he’s wearing a mask so i only catch on to his drone; speech about halfway through

i got a new kind of bus pass at the station. i struggle with it awhile & forget to ask for a transfer

we wait for half an hour at an empty railroad crossing. no train comes through.

during the wait my phone goes off twice. the thunderstorm warning has been upgraded to a tornado warning.

since bus drivers don’t cut any slack & give transfers after the stop you get on i walk home from the station in the rain which isn’t that bad but it was humid enough i arrive home looking like a ran a marathon

i don’t know how it went. “fine” might be a pretty good descriptor but i’d be surprised if i get the position; i want to sleep for a century. needing money is the w o r s t::

#::outofsin::

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ksuew · 5 years

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The Rookie 2x11 Day of Death

Here is a crazy, sleep-deprived stream of conscious recap of the episode with a few predictions.

Opening scene, Lucy regains consciousness on a table, Caleb is giving her a DOD tatoo. I was so hoping this wouldn’t happen, but it does give the opportunity for a good healing story line and an awesome cover tatoo.

Next, Jackson goes to bring Lucy coffee and she isn’t home.

Lopez and Wesley are talking after she’s found him nearly dead because he’s mixed booze and pills.

There is a news brief from Rosalind

“5 years ago Detective nick armstrong looked into my eyes and Fulfilled his darkest fantasy and arrested me for Playing at slaughter” weird wording. I think Armstrong must have slept with Rosalind...

Nolan and Jackson are discussing the missing Lucy. Thankfully, Harper immediately sounds the alarm. When asked if Lucy just went home with the guy, Nolan says, “Lucy doesn’t do one night stands”. I could tell what Jackson said.

Next we see Lucy taped to a chair.

She’s trying to get into Caleb’s head, but it isn’t really getting her free yet.

Harper and Nolan visit his last victim but get no usable info other than timeline. It would be nice if she and Lucy meet up at some point. They could be a good support for one another.

They talk to Grace about How long it would take to suffocate in a barrel.

Surveillance footage

As soon as they say she’s been taken they cut to Tim. He immediately calls Lopez. She’s on her way. Love that friendship.

Harper knows Lucy is a fighter

Lucy proves that when she gets free, hits Caleb and runs for it. Wish She had beaten him until she saw brain matter, but I get the instinct to run.

I really hated watching Caleb kick her. That was hard to watch.

Armstrong’s pissed, I get it. I think it was right to send Nolan to talk to Rosalind (and he is the star of the show, so he has to play a big part).

Poor Tim, he talks with Lopez. He blames himself for pushing Lucy to go out . He was nearly in tears. “She hesitated and I pushed her right at him.”

Nolan visits Rosalind. I still don’t trust the prison guy, Hernandez, i think he’s in on things. May come up in later episodes. Nolan doesn’t get much, but tries the contraband angle.

Love that Wesley gets to help by finding the contraband smuggler.

Now it’s Lucy being marched to the burial site. He makes her climb into the barrel, has it wired to record. The ring!! Lucy you beautiful genius! She throws her ring onto the ground as she climbs into the barrel. I loved her parting quote, “you’re gonna be dead long before i am”. Gotta say, I’d have ripped those camera wires apart out of spite. No way I would have let him have the satisfaction of watching me die.

The next scene was one of my favorites. Tim and Jackson pull over the smuggler. Tim goes all the fuck out from second one. Jackson looks kinda scared. One of my favorite linesof the whole episode: “I am responsible for a life that is in jeopardy and I will do whatever I have to to save her, do you understand?” The guy doesn’t want to give the info, Tim’s reply, “Because if you don’t I will pull you inside out”. Swoon

Tim takes down the guy he thinks is Caleb and demands “Where’s Lucy?” But it’s not Caleb. Poor guy’s disabled and gets tackled because Caleb stole his identity. So back to Nolan and Rosalind. He really doesn’t get anywhere, honestly, other than finding out she’s after Armstrong

Armstrong is a dummy and lets Caleb take him. Caleb was never gonna help or let her go. Sweet that he would sacrifice his life for hers. Lots of guilt there.

Lopez and sergeant grey find the photo of Lucy and presumably her phone. BUT WE DON’T GET TO SEE HER TIM LOCK SCREEN which had me seriously pouting.

Lucy’s in the barrel. This is so hard to watch. Cut to Tim looking devastated because he thinks they’re out of options but It’s Jackson and Tim who realize credit card statements could lead to Caleb. Then Wesley for the win, figuring out that Caleb will probably take Lucy to a place connected to Rosalind.

So Caleb and Armstrong get to the farmhouse. Caleb is jealous of Armstrong, “there’s so much you don’t know about her. I know everything “. He also told Lucy earlier that he didn’t understand Rosalind’s obsession with Armstrong. Again, I’m Pretty sure they had an affair before he realized she was the killer.

Okay, finally Tim and Lopez use the data Wesley has gathered and find the address.

Now the scene of Lucy singing dream a little dream of me. All we hear is her as everyone rushes to find her. We see Nolan and Harper get re-routed toward the farmhouse and Tim, Jackson, Lopez, and Sergeant Grey getting in a helicopter, but all we hear is her singing until her voice trails off and she presumably passes out from lack of oxygen. I can no longer sit at this point.

Nolan and Harper get there first and Harper shoots Caleb. They try to keep him alive even calling Grace to help, but he was never going to tell them anything anyway. He dies.

Loads of people finally start to show up. Nolan shows Lopez the live stream of Lucy in the barrel. Tim doesn’t really look. Honestly he looks so upset and worried that he might throw up. They decide to just start searching and hope for the best.

Tim pulls it together and starts to search with Jackson, but tells Jackson to go left so they can cover more ground.

Everybody is searching. At this point I’m nearly screaming at the TV, “Come on Tim!!”. (And I’m pacing and getting really close to the tv) My dog gets so spooked she starts barking 😂. I NEED for Tim to be the one to find her. The scene keeps cutting to all the people looking for her...

And then, it all comes together..

He sees the ring catching the sun. Lucy has saved herself that badass queen. He starts digging with his bare hands and calling for help “I’ve got her!”. I am literally dying. PS. Lucy doesn’t wear that ring to work, so he’s noticed it from other occasions. I would so love if that ring comes into play in the future...

So, he’s digging, everyone joins in with hands and shovels.

Tim is the one to open the barrel.

Tim is the first one to touch her and asks for help getting her out (I think this is the first time we’ve ever seen him touch her)

Tim is the one to check if she’s breathing

Tim is the one to give her mouth to mouth and start compressions

Thankfully they don’t leave us in suspense for too long before she starts to breathe again. As soon as she realizes she is out of the barrel and alive, she starts to sob

Tim is the one to gather her in his arms and rock her and tell her it’s okay.

God, I was a mess! They could have let that scene go on for just a touch longer, but I won’t complain. It was so touching. I love how everyone deferred to Tim. No one tried to take over or move in. They all knew it needed to be him.

Cut to the hospital. Lucy is waking up and Tim is by her side reading a ridiculous teen magazine. Tim looks a little embarrassed/unsure (will she want me here? Is she mad at me?). Lucy starts with some playful banter and Tim makes her laugh right away. He looks a little unsure again. Lucy asks him if he’s been there all night. Embarrassed puppy denies it 3 times, which of course tells us he has, but doesn’t want her to know. Her little “um hm” tells me she knows he’s lying.

Grace comes in, says Lucy will be in the hospital for one more day. Mentions that Rachel just came by and will be back later 🙄🙄. Sorry, but can we be done with Rachel now?

Lucy looks to Tim and asks, “How did you find me?”. Just when I think he’ll get to mention the ring, Nolan comes in to claim credit and says it was his policing skills. (I’ll give it to you, Nathan, this show wouldn’t exist without you, so we gotta stroke your ego a bit 😂)

He gives her a big teddy bear, then Jackson comes in with flowers. It’s very cute and sweet. Lucy says the bear will stay in her bed because she’s never going on another date again. Grace tries to object but all 3 guys are fine with that scenario. As am I. The only dates she needs to go on are with Tim after she’s no longer a rookie for at least 6 months. Then he can evict the pink bear.

Tim totally sets up his own gift to her by asking Lucy if she’s hungry. She says yes, and as she’s about to say what she’d really like to eat, he’s pulling out a bag with her favorite veggie burger, extra pickles and French fries (as a romantic song plays in the background. I can’t find it yet, but the lyrics were “I’ll come and find you, come rain, come shine) Who won the gift name now, suckers? Better than a bear or flowers any day 😉.

She says, “you know me so well”, he smirks, goes full heart eyes, and says, “Too well”.

And that’s some endgame set-up awesomeness right there!

I would have been fine if the episode had ended there, but there was a bit more.

Wesley has gotten some perspective because of Lucy’s ordeal and is ready to go back to work. I think there are more setbacks to come for him, but it is a good first step.

Cut to Armstrong and Sergeant Grey. He invites Armstrong to his house to watch a game. He hopes Armstrong can cast out his demons and move on... foreshadowing!

Nolan goes back to speak with Rosalind to tell her she (and Caleb) failed and now all she has is her cell. She tries to barter a secret about Armstrong. I’m sure that will come back to haunt us. Like I said before, I’m pretty sure Armstrong slept with her at some point, but there is something else. Season finale kinda something else.

Overall, this was such an excellent episode of television. It literally had me out of my seat on several occasions. I feel like Tim knows he’s got serious feelings for Lucy but will try his hardest to suppress them because she is his rookie, and a fellow cop, and he feels like her abduction was his fault. I think that will become a bigger and bigger issue as the rest of this season progresses.

I think (and hope) that Lucy working with Harper will be a one-episode thing, but they will probably pull pretty far back on The Lucy and Tim relationship for a few episodes. The scenario was very similar to A Bones episode from season 2. Brennan was buried alive, Booth moved heaven and earth to find her, she did something brilliant that caught his eye when it seemed like finding her would be impossible. He dug her out and held her, but it was still a good 4 more seasons or more before they got together. I hope we won’t have to wait THAT long, but I don’t think they’ll be together by the end of this season. I do think that this episode is signaling that the show runners are definitely going to put Tim and Lucy together eventually, which makes me very happy.

For now, I just hope they’re back as partners in the same shop soon. I need to see them together because they’re the best part of the whole show. I want them to allow Lucy to process her trauma. I want a conversation between Lucy and Tim about it not being his fault. I would hope Tim would end things with Rachel. I want the ring to come back into play at some point. First because i want Lucy to know that what she did was a big part of what saved her, and I want a pining Tim to hang onto it like a talisman.

#lucy chen #the rookie #tim bradford #tim x lucy #the rookie abc #chenford #lucy and tim #the rookie spoilers #day of death

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streetlites · 5 years

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I watched people pour out of the Old Town bars onto the sidewalk and streets; their happiness and drunken excitement grating on my nerves as I slumped down in a café chair. I drank my tepid coffee as a last-ditch effort to keep alert but exhaustion hung around my shoulders and my eyes burned. Bolivar stood outside on his phone, still attempting to find anything from his contacts who’d put him on a call-spree for the last hour. I just wanted to call it a night.

My wrist vibrated and I looked down to see ‘Mom’ on the caller ID. I swiped on ‘ignore’ and settled back, yawning. My wrist vibrated again; this time with a text from my mother demanding that I answer her call. Followed almost immediately with another call. I rolled my eyes and pulled the earpiece from my pocket and touched the button when I had fitted it snuggly in my left ear, “Do you have any idea what time it is?” I drawled.

“Of course I do. It’s 5:30 in the morning and I’m on my second cup of coffee and reading over the reports I was sent last night.” I hear dishes rattling in the background and my father’s muffled voice, “It’s still hot, daddy,” my mother purrs and I grimace at the pet name she uses for him. So awkward! “Care to explain why you left the charity gala so early?”

I grit my teeth and rubbed the skin between my brows; it would definitely be the first wrinkle I’d develop and my mother would be the one to put it there. “As I told you when you had that stylist team accost me at my door, I already had a work engagement scheduled before I was coerced into your fancy tax deduction.”

“Coerced?” My mother laughs rudely, “Watch your mouth girl. For someone that always complains that I’m not using my data to benefit Volkov Industries properly, you seem to be overlooking how beneficial an entanglement with Holmes Corp could be.”

“First off, he’s engaged. Second, he’s producing musicals. Please tell me how that’d help anyone? I swear, you’d be happy if I got caught in the bathroom with his dick in my mouth,” I snap.

“Mildly,” my mother confirms. “And don’t talk to me like that. Besides, I find it strange that you couldn’t just reschedule your so-called ‘work engagement’”.

“Jesus,” I swear. “Time is of the essence when searching for flight risks - or so I hear.”

“You would know something about that, wouldn’t you?” My mother bites back, referring to my moving to Myshuno instead of staying in Windenburg; where she wanted me. “In any case, the guy you’re after killed those people a week ago, yes? If he’s a flight risk, he’s already gone. I don’t even know why they accepted that contract, he’s not going to be found locally.”

“We found out something in his apartment. He owes the LA-13 money and Gabriel’s looking into finding who knows him.”

My mother cackles, “Definitely isn’t local if he owes. Baby, he’s gone and your partner knows it. Speaking of,” there’s a brief pause as she takes a drink, “I don’t remember approving you to work with Bolivar.”

“Ceilia signed off on it,” I said, feeling defensive. Why would she need to approve of who I worked with?! “She said he’s really good at what he does and can really help me learn how to operate with people on the street.”

“Oh I’m sure he’s good,” she huffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask and, almost as if cued, Gabriel turns to look at me and winks. A few women walk past him and stare at him without shame. I roll my eyes and shake my head at him, is he trying to back my mother?

“It means that I expected you to spend the night flirting with Junior, not running around with that – that gigolo! But, clearly, all of my children are hellbent on being an embarrassment.” She complains. “God, first your brothers and now you. I thought you had more sense than that.”

I bristle at the criticism. The only reason why I was even investing my time doing jobs like this was to prove to my mother that I could use the information to find targets her way. And maybe, after doing so many jobs, she’d approve of me setting up a group to use in my marketing project. But conversations like this, her meddling, made it feel hopeless. “Are you talking about Vidal? I’ve got to say, that girl is pretty – can't blame him for making an ass out of himself on TV trying to hit it in front of the entire world.” I smile as my mother curses, at least I could push her buttons in retaliation. “It even looks like he might win, you might be a grandmother soon. Wouldn’t that be fun? Grandchildren?”

“Goddammit, don’t talk to me about grandchildren right now. ¡Coño!” My mother yells. My father is saying something in the background; “Then fucking handle it! That fucking -”

“Um, mom? Is everything okay?” I ask. Her reaction was a little too volatile for my joke; something must be going on with one of my brothers, but no one has said anything.

Her tirade abruptly stops, as if she’s forgotten she was on the phone with me. “It will be. Look, I know that you’re out on a job right now but, for the love of God, you be careful with Gabriel. I don’t need any more accidents. You hear me? If you need to slum it, protect yourself.”

I stare down at my coffee in bemusement as the line goes dead. My mother would die to hear it, but she sounded exactly like Baba Alexa. I could even picture her in a few years saying, “I don’t know how, but I’m so happy my grandchildren escaped their mother’s nouveau riche stink” with her nose upturned. I took a sip and stopped, the phrase “any more accidents” echoing. Interesting.

A sharp knock on the table interrupted my thoughts. I look up to see Gabriel smiling and nodding his head, “I think I found something promising. And it’s close by.”

“Do you honestly think it’s the guy? I mean, it’s been a week,” I said. My mother’s comments made a lot of sense, if he owed money and was hunted in both the OA and Myshuno, he’d have to be an idiot to stay. Or extremely deadly.

“I don’t think so, but they said this is his boy and he came back over a week ago with blood on his clothes. It’s got to be more than a coincidence.”

“I guess,” I answer, feeling less than confident.

“We’ll find something there, for sure. Get your smile ready because I’m going to need you to get him to open up without busting in. I don’t want to give him the chance to run.”

#ts4 #sims story #Fault Lines #fl: aftershock #fla chrono #don't ask me why I didn't caption the last two...#I just forgot #I could fix it but I won't #my formatting poofed... ugh #ts4legacy

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years

Text

Let’s write together: Heart Reset

Chapter 2 - Data and Dragons

Featuring:

@sparklingrainbowdragon (‘s mom) with "Today, like every other day, the unicorns are running free." @rufina72 with “God damn, just move your- OW! Quit stomping on my feet already!”, “And here I thought it would be a disadvantage that you were so short, detective!”, “Our boys jumping/climbing out of a window” and “A very determined spider!” @aurea-b with “gargoyle” @sparklingrainbowdragon with “A dragon”

[Chapter1]

It had been early morning the next day that Jerry had send Nines more information. Apparently, their theory of their suspects meeting in the medieval part of the park had been correct. Jerry had reported several people arriving at the park, all of them masked but otherwise disregarding the cameras completely. Due to the park being abandoned, no one cared about them and Jerry kept them stationary. That was enough for Nines and Gavin to head out. If they wanted to prepare anything they had to do so now, not when everything was in place. They had informed Hank of their plan, who told them that backup would be ready and in place on their signal if they needed it.

Now they were walking through the trees on the edge of the areal until they got to the fence. Nines had taken a wire-cutter with him, although he didn’t need it in the end. The fence had been trampled to the ground and didn’t really pose as a barrier anymore. Nines left the tool behind a tree and followed Gavin onto the park grounds. They soon found one of the paths connecting different rides and shops. All buildings were designed to look like castles or village huts, and everything was heavily overgrown. Gavin kept him back as he was about to walk onto the path to look around for any sign of humans. ‘Hey, Nines, look over there.’ Nines followed his finger to discover a huge castle that for once actually looked to not be covered in mock-up stone. ‘If I knew one thing about Jayden, it is that he likes to be overly dramatic. Every chance to pretend to be a Rockstar he would take. I bet he would choose the biggest phcking building there is.’ ‘Well, it’s worth a shot. We have four more hours until the data is lost.’

They kept behind the buildings walking towards the castle that was at least four stories high. The next time they had to stop it was Nines who kept Gavin back. >Three persons at the crossroad, he displayed on his hand, pointing into the direction of them as soon as Gavin had read it and deactivated the screen. He listened intently to them talking, hoping to get some more intel. At the same time, he displayed what he heard for Gavin.

‘Why did he have to come so soon, I don’t understand. I mean… this place is creepy man.’ ‘Idiot, he is checking for traps. Ever since he fucked that Detective, he is paranoid as hell.’ ‘Doesn’t mean we have to be here, too.’ ‘You are getting paid for it, stop complaining.’ ‘Exactly. Easy money for patrolling an abandoned park. Besides who the hell knows of it anyway? Just a day spent outside going for a walk.’ ‘Still can’t wait until they are done in there.’

Gavin plucked at his sleeve grinning triumphantly. Okay, so maybe he had been right with the castle, it wasn’t as if Nines had been doubting him. He just shrugged and gestured him to follow. They snuck up to the entrance of the castle, a sign with flaking colour telling them this had been a haunted castle once stuffed with the newest robotic technologies. Nines looked up at it frowning, but in the end, they weren’t here for the attraction itself, but for the data Browns would sell here. Gavin pulled him to an employee’s entrance that led into the foyer. Apparently, the visitors had only been allowed inside in small groups at a time. Inside, Nines took over, leading Gavin through the hidden tunnels for the staff. There were enough hidden windows and maintenance doors that they could spy into the adjacent rooms in relative safety. They traversed nearly the complete first floor, until they got to the “throne room”. In sudden excitement, Gavin slapped his side, pulling him over to the one-way-mirror. ‘That’s the asshole’, Gavin hissed quietly, and Nines proceeded to scan him. Gavin was right. There was Jayden Browns, walking around the table, looking underneath it and inspecting the whole room. Nines took the throne room in, comparing it to his blueprints. ‘Gavin, I need you to hide over there’, he whispered pointing to a little hidden hatch in the wall that would without a doubt be connected to some character appearing during the performance to scare the visitors. ‘Are you kidding me?’, Gavin hissed. ‘No way I will fit in there!’ Nines just smiled at him. ‘Oh, you will fit just fine, trust me.’ ‘Urgh, fine.’ ‘And here I thought it would be a disadvantage that you were so short, detective!’ ‘Phck you. Why there?’ ‘This room has two escape routes. One towards the entrance and one that leads to the rest of the tour. We need people at both sides to intercept him when surprising him.’ Gavin nodded. ‘Anything else?’ ‘Wait for my signal.’

He sighed, before turning and following the maintenance tunnel to the hatch. He pulled up the cover and was greeted with a small compartment housing what looked like it had once been a ghost puppet and a ton of spiderwebs. Gavin whined, hesitating to climb in there, but looking at his watch to see whether he had enough time to find a better spot he realised, it was nearly seven pm. He grimaced, before lowering himself inside and crawling over the puppet to the front. Thankfully, not one of the spiderwebs were still in use. At least Gavin told himself that. He crawled to the forefront of the compartment, laying his head on the floor to spy through the slit into the room behind it. He looked for Nines but couldn’t see the android anywhere. But he trusted that he saw him when the time was right. Now it was time to wait.

He had always hated waiting, but at least this time it wasn’t too long. Apparently whoever Jayden wanted to sell the data to surprised him. ‘You are early’, his voice suddenly broke the silence and Gavin flinched. God, he had forgotten how much he hated that guy. ‘Do you have the stick?’ ‘Right here. Do you have the money?’ ‘How do I know it works?’

Gavin tried to get a good look at the other man that spoke but found himself distracted by a movement at the corner of his eye. A spider, steadily crawling towards him. He blew the little creature further away from him, but as soon as it had regained its footing it crawled towards him again. Gavin focussed the two men talking again, side-eyeing the spider and pushing it back again and again. Shocked he found that he had gained some attention by sending a small dust cloud out under the hatch. He froze, watching how the shoes of the second man had turned towards him. But a moment later the man changed his stance as he disregarded it. Gavin sighed in relief, only to feel something crawling over his hand. He couldn’t explain his reaction properly except with the utterly idiotic instinct to get away from the tiny creature, screaming and wriggling himself out of that compartment without thinking about it.

That was how he found himself standing in the throne room being stared at by the two people, Jayden with his hand outstretched, a phone in hand for the other one to see. Reacting immediately, he pulled out his gun and shouted ‘DPD, freeze, the park is surrounded. Hands up where I can see them!’

But despite his quick call, they didn’t freeze at all, instead doing the exact opposite: They drew their guns, Jayden shouting for his men before shooting at him. He was ready to regret his fear of spiders dearly, but the bullet never reached him, Nines jumping in the path out of nowhere. The android saw the oncoming goons, the two guns ready for another shot and decided they wouldn’t be able to stop them alone. He took Gavin by the jacket and pulled him with him, only for the stubborn Detective to dive to the ground, where Jayden had let his phone fall. Nines allowed it, helping him back to his feet and sprinting towards the exit Gavin had been supposed to guard.

‘What was that supposed to be?’, Nines shouted as they left through it, running for their lives. ‘I’m sorry!’, Gavin gasped. ‘Phcking spiders!’ ‘Doesn’t matter now, run! I’ll call in Hank and his backup waiting outside.’ They ran up the stairs to the second floor and Nines was almost carrying Gavin the way he hauled him up to help catch up with his bigger steps. They ran past animatronic knights and witches, ghosts and undead kings, all hanging in their more or less intact machinery, until they reached a larger room that looked like some sort of medieval bedroom. Nines milled over their options, deciding quickly to pull open a large wardrobe and pushing first Gavin then himself inside, closing it just in time not to be seen by the goons storming inside. ‘God damn, just move your- OW! Quit stomping on my feet already!’, Gavin complained, before Nines could push his hand over his mouth. Because unfortunately, the men had decided to search the room instead of running past them.

‘What do we do know?’, Gavin asked and Nines just grinned. ‘This is a haunted castle. Let’s scare them a bit and cause a distraction. The android pulled off a panel on the back wall of the wardrobe and interfacing with the touchscreen behind it. Only a few seconds later music started playing tinny and distorted. Then a voice from a woman coming from the bed. It sounded like she was reading a bedtime story. ‘Today, like every other day, the unicorns are running free. But it wasn’t always like that-‘ ‘Oh, come on, skip to the good part’, Nines mumbled, followed by metallic screeching and what sounded like plastic being crushed. ‘Oops.’ ‘What did you do, Nines?’, Gavin asked slightly panicked. ‘I set the program to ten times the normal speed, but apparently it wasn’t made for that. We might get a bit more chaos than I wanted…’ ‘What do you mean by tha-‘ ‘Out, now!’

Nines pulled him outside just at the right moment. A second later and a large plastic gargoyle from the opposite window would have crushed them, being flung inside by a robotic arm that had never been supposed to withstand such momentum. The whole room was in chaos. The robot mother that had read the bedtime story was up in flames and screeching, the princess was shaking inside the bed, sitting up and falling back down repeatedly. The walls crumbled and rebuild themselves while a cacophony of at least three songs playing at once rung in their ears. As doors on the opposite side banged open for a dragon’s head to emerge and roar, Nines knew that they wouldn’t be able to continue this route. ‘Nines, you are right! This is too much chaos!’ At least the goons were distracted. Distracted by running down as fast as they could, as the fire from the robot mother began to spread. ‘Phck, Nines, where do we go?’ The android seemed lost himself, but caught himself, running to a window and leaning outside. Gavin, realising what Nines was thinking about, took a step back. ‘Oh no, Nines, not happening. You are insane! I’m not phcking jumping out of-’ But the android had taken him by the arm already, running full speed at the window and taking Gavin with him. They fell from the second floor and down towards a decorative moat. There was no bracing the impact, only the cold water suddenly encasing them. Gavin briefly panicked, as he tried to swim to the surface but having Nines still clinging to him and pulling him down. Thankfully it wasn’t that deep, and he quickly realised what Nines was planning, as they reached the bottom and the android near catapulted them out with one powerful kick. They emerged near the shore and climbed up the muddy hill to the trees again. They looked back up to the burning fake castle and Gavin pulled algae from his shoulder before swiping at his eyes.

‘Well, not how I expected the day to end, but not many can say they burned down an amusement park?’ He chuckled and Nines couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment. ‘Let’s just hope Hank caught our suspects.’

[>next chapter]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Let's write together #One Year of Stories

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oveliagirlhaditright · 4 years

Text

Chapter Five of my dark Kairi story entitled “Swallow”.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456412/chapters/66099568

Falling

Sora's PoV:

"Come on, Yozora," Sora complained. as he grabbed onto his prison door and shook it with all his strength. "Don't lock me up, because you know I'm right in saying that… locking Stella in that box—no matter how she betrayed you is wrong—deep down, you know it's awful... because you're me."

And that must have meant something to Yozora, because he gave Sora something to eat then—to help stay conscious for once, in this awful place—and it was dropped at his feet.

It was a banana.

Kairi's PoV:

Kairi and Riku decided to go to Radiant Garden, to ask the Restoration Committee and Tron for help. But it left a bitter taste in Kairi's mouth to do so, because to her it was just pointing out to their friends that they hadn't found Sora yet, and that she had failed in another way.

So Kairi found herself leaving this to Riku—even if she would have loved to meet this non-corrupted version of a friend that Sora had loved so much: Tron—and took a moment to relax for the first time in ages.

As she did so, a kid named Ben—who she would learn the Restoration Committee had taken in—sat down and talked to her, as she dipped her toes in the fountain.

"…Kairi, I think that's your name… I'm sorry if I'm ruining your privacy, or whatever, but I'm Ben. And Radiant Garden's new leader, Leon, told me a little bit about your story with this 'Sora'… and how you now think he's in data world or something? …All I'm saying is don't bet on the wrong horse. I tried to recreate my mom, via this intelligent house that we had... and that was a disaster. Sometimes it's better to have a flawed reality, than to hold onto a scary dream."

If Kairi was being honest with herself here, she was spooked by this entire one-sided conversation. Though she did wonder if the gods of the different worlds had perhaps sent her this boy to her to give her advice...

She was about to ask him how a "mom" connected to an automated home—was that what she was getting here? could even exist to become a disaster, but Pip was having none of that.

"…Why would you tell Kairi that, to get her all scared and defeated?!" Pip demanded. And Kairi pet his fur in order to calm him down, as she contemplated and yet sent a small smile Ben's way.

And she was glad that Ben was holding his hands up defensively for Pip's anger. Because Kairi didn't want her new best friend to be mad at the child… even though she was sad he was kind of confronting her with her worst fears here.

"Hey, Miss. I just don't want anyone to say I didn't warn you. But it could work out. Like, even though we were fine without her… Pat's got her bugs worked out now, so sometimes she gives us chocolate chip pancakes!"

And that was all that a little kid would worry about, wasn't it? Kairi almost giggled at those words about pancakes… almost.

Instead, she decided to speak calmly to Ben and use some of his own terminology back at him. "Don't worry about it, 'Mister. 'Pip here is just a little protective of me, like he was with his mistress, Giselle, but I see that you only want to help me. Thank you."

Pip crossed his arms over his chest defensively here—because Kairi had bemoaned some of his efforts to coddle her heart?—but she knew he really didn't mean it, which she was glad for… because she still needed one friend in this world, after all.

Speaking of friends—or former friends—it was when Kairi was having these depressing thoughts and twiddling with her thumbs, that Riku finally returned.

"What did they all say?!" Kairi demanded, as she sprung to her feet and began assuming the worst. They're not mad we took some months off in looking for Sora, are they? …They really don't think I'd sacrifice him again so easily, do they?"

And Riku sent Kairi a small smile here, that was so much like their old bond, that Kairi could have cried. How she wished their connection was that strong again. And maybe they were getting somewhat close to it again, but…

"Relax, Kairi. Of course they're not upset with us… with you. And they're worried about the Master of Masters and his flunkies, but I told them we can handle it. They also told me what everyone else is doing, and I can tell ya if ya want. But most of all… Cid fixed our phones like we wanted him to... And I should have said this all when that kid wasn't here, huh?"

And this time, Kairi did have to laugh. It was a rare sight to see Riku flustered, but she definitely appreciated over the arrogant boy he had once been on the Islands. "This is Ben, Riku. He's cool. It sounds like he's in cahoots with the Restoration Committee. But on the subject of youth... did the Restoration Committee look any older to you? If so, we must have somehow traveled to the future when we were in the Caribbean. But if not… then we only moved ahead in time in that world, for some reason."

Overhead, a seagull was flying by… perhaps trying to see if there were some French fries nearby that it could eat. And for just a second, Kairi was taken back to Destiny Islands: the place where Sora had climbed a tree to get a seagull egg… and the place where many times—even though Kairi had enjoyed talking to Sora (she always would)—she didn't want to relish in his company if Riku wasn't with them. She missed those days…

"The Restoration Committee is the same age, Kairi. Don't worry." And again… Riku treated Kairi with such patience, that she hated him for it. She didn't deserve it…

But deciding that they probably should have these conversations away from Ben—just in case—Kairi and Riku bid their new friend goodbye and went back to Riku's gummi ship to discuss things more. Apparently, King Mickey had picked up Kairi's own ship from the Caribbean and had taken it back to Disney Castle. So, it seemed that she would be staying with Riku for a while…

Which was fine. More than fine, really. Leon, Yuffie, Aerith, Cid, Cloud, and Tifa had missed seeing the guilt that she bore, and now she and Riku were safe to talk about Sora away from prying eyes.

"So, what are all of our other friends doing now, Riku? And don't spare me any gory details."

And Riku didn't, as he set the ship in auto-pilot and walked around to look at the stars. Kairi wondered if he imagined Sora in one of them like she did, but she thought he might also be picturing Naminé on one of them, too.

"Mickey, Donald, and Goofy are following Sora's lead and going to sleep… to try and find hints of him in their dreams, Terra, Ventus, and Aqua are taking on apprentices, thinking the next generation may hold the truth to finding him... Lea and Isa are looking for a friend that they lost, but think it might connect to Sora. And Roxas and Xion are apparently trying to going as high in the Ocean Between Worlds as they can, to see if they can see Sora from that vantage point… And Naminé's not doing anything… because she thinks you and Sora aren't together now because she tore you apart before."

Wow, her friends certainly had better ideas than she did. Kairi had no doubt that they'd find Sora before she could even dream of it—like usual—though she would still try… and her heart broke in hearing that the girl she thought of as a sister was blaming herself for something that wasn't her fault at all.

Kairi even thought about getting her gummi phone out, to demand that Naminé cut it out that instant… but she couldn't do it yet. No, the only pain she could think of at all anymore was her own. Because Sora, the light of their World, had died for her (again). And even if by miracle of miracle, they happened to save him… that would always be true, and she could never wash the blood off her hands.

Kairi could tell the question Riku was dying to ask her now, as he seemed to look at her with bated breath... what was it about him that now bothered her, that made her push him in a way that she never had before?

And Kairi would tell Riku one day, she promised herself now, and would attempt to make amends... just not now. Never now.

So instead, she changed this subject about their friends and feelings.

"Is your gummi phone picking up any data worlds now?" Kairi asked, being careful not to look at Riku, but rather at all of the parts of the gummi ship around her. The seats that Riku had in his own vessel here were jade, and Kairi loved that aesthetic choice, as they matched his eyes.

But somehow, even before he'd spoken Kairi knew that Riku would disappoint her. "...No. But I may be picking up something else."

Well, the "something else" was news to Kairi. She wasn't even sure they'd get that lucky. So she stood from her seat and peered at the gummi phone he held in his hand, as she took in what appeared to be some sort of jungle pictured there.

And Kairi grinned… she couldn't help it, even though these memories now hurt her. She recalled, after all, bits of when Sora had been in Deep Jungle. She thought he may have even fought about Donald on whether or not to go there… and in the end, Sora had made them crash so that he could look for her and Riku.

If they had to go to such a place to save him now—or at least get some kind of clue about him—Kairi thought that it was only fitting.

"Then full speed ahead, maestro!" Kairi encouraged Riku, whilst she pointed her Keyblade out towards the sky.

And for just a second, Kairi again felt like the girl who had built a raft with her friends, jumped off a balcony, and fought in a Keyblade War.

…

The first thing Kairi noticed when she and Riku eventually landed on the new world, was a strange fruit that she had never seen before.

And suddenly realizing just how ravenous she was, Kairi ate the yellow, C-shaped piece of food and even shared some of it with Pip.

"This is delicious!" Kairi sang, just as the flavors and textures really hit her taste buds for the first time.

But Riku seemed to be staying far away from it, though Kairi couldn't imagine why. He must have been as hungry as she was, if not hungrier since he was a growing guy.

"...Kairi, you know what that is. Right?" Riku asked, with some strange tone in his voice that she couldn't figure out for the life of her. "An aphrodisiac."

Truthfully, Kairi wasn't entirely sure what that was. She thought it had to do with romance and fruit together, somehow, but that was about all she knew. She may have been going to school some, while Sora and Riku had been out adventuring, but she hadn't always been paying attention in class… Not when she'd been worried sick about her missing friend and the boy she couldn't remember. "Aphrodisiac?" Kairi tested the word on her tongue. "Like the paopu fruit?"

"Err… You know what? Nevermind."

And here, Kairi couldn't help teasing Riku a little—as she felt some of her old self come to the surface again, just a tiny bit. "Riku, even if you're worried about falling in love or whatever—because you want to die an Old Maid, instead of getting married, I don't think this fruit is as strong as to make you propose to Naminé the next time you see her, or anything like that. So, c'mon! Give it a try!"

But, perhaps, Riku even did Kairi one better than that, when he saw a yellow coconut lying around that Kairi had missed and opened it and ate at the milk inside…

Right. Yellow coconuts… She had once ordered both Riku and Sora to find them for the raft. So were Riku and she finally becoming those fourteen-year-old kids together, then?

The two teens finished eating—eventually playing a game, where they told each other what they wished it was. Because they wanted meat right now more than anything—but then finished off and began walking again.

And before Kairi knew it, she and Riku were nearing a mountain that was very much shaped like an ape… Kairi probably would have told Riku something about it, if it that moment she hadn't seen something that caught her eye even more!

A lovely lady and an ape-like-man—not unlike Tarzan from Sora's time in Deep Jungle, that Kairi remembered from being particularly active in his heart there—were having dinner together, as a giant monkey (a gorilla? An ape?) talked to them and served them food!

There were even breathtaking twinkling lights around this treehouse… and even in the light of day, they took Kairi's breath away.

Everything about this scenario was just beautiful. To Kairi… as silly, and romance novel sounding as this thought in her head was becoming, it was like what her life could have been like with her mate, Sora, if things hadn't gone so horribly… As she knew that he had wanted to show her a magical world, too.

And so even though Kairi didn't know this couple at all, she couldn't help rooting for them… and she saw that Riku felt the same way, when he was quick to assure the woman that everything was fine, when she began to panic: "Oh, no! You're not with Lyle are you?! You don't think I've been taking hostage by a madman, who will try and steal my autonomy, will you?"

"Not to worry, ma'am... we're just here to see if this world—err, place—needs any help at all. And if it does, we're only too happy to aid it. I'm Riku, and this is Kairi."

Kairi was about to proudly tease Riku that he was acting like Sora again, as she smiled up at him, but just as she was about to, some other people entered the scene… At least one of which who looked like he might try and tear the lovers apart, if his look of outrage in seeing them together was anything to go by…

And then the one that Kairi had been worried about (and surely Riku, as well) was pulling a gun, and shooting at Ape-Man, just as the pretty girl cried, "Lyle, no!"

Guns… Kairi hated him. And she knew that Sora had come up with that same sentiment when he saw Clayton with one, and she could easily understand why.

Before it was too late, Kairi tried to jump in front of the lady's lover, but even with her warping ability she didn't make it in time!

And then there was a panic. Some of the dark-skinned men present were angrily pulling the shooter way, and insisting that he would have to go to prison for shooting another human… Meanwhile, the girl—and the ape who had been waiting on them—were worrying over the shooting victim. And Kairi and Riku were quickly there, too… Though they also wanted to give him some air.

Kairi thought about trying to use Curaga on the man, but she knew that wouldn't work. Cure spells always healed depleted energy more than anything else…

The woman was on her own phone, desperately trying to get service—whatever that was, Kairi thought—so people would come and give George (apparently that was the man's name) the medical treatment he so desperately needed… but the crying woman said that it would still take time, and George might not make it.

So, it was then that Kairi made a decision… because she'd seen too much like this in her lifetime, and had of course felt this way herself.

"We've already ruined the World Order in so many other worlds we've been in, Riku. What's one more? Let us help this man get the best medical treatment available."

Riku might have whispered something about the old Kairi being back then, but if he did she didn't completely hear it. No, she was too busy creating a Corridor of Light to get everyone where they needed to go faster.

But she didn't just leave it at that. Naturally, she walked up to her new friend and whispered gently in her ear, ""I know I'm probably just some crazy magical girl to you now, so who would believe me? …But if you walk through this path and think desperately of where you want to go as you do so, it'll take you there."

"Magic… after a talking monkey?" the woman with the slight accent—or was it lisp?—echoed back to Kairi, with a sort of unhinged quality in her voice. Kairi was about to question it. But, hey. Hadn't she been about the same when Sora had disappeared after using a Keyblade on his own heart, and Riku had seemed gone forever? "Why aren't I surprised? Thank you."

And so, the woman, Kairi, and Riku (who had stepped up to be the main one carrying George here) walked through the Light, and left everyone and everything else behind for the time being.

A pity, that, because looking back on it… Kairi thought she'd felt something of Sora when she'd bitten into that fruit.

But now was the time to be selfless again… to be the girl he surely loved: the Master of Masters had to be right.

…

Once they exited the path, Kairi found herself in an area that reminded her a lot of Giselle's world, oddly enough, which gave her the confidence to see this thing through… And she wondered if the two worlds of towering skyscrapers were once one, before the World had been split into parts.

Taking the brunt of George's weight herself now—as Riku seemed to be getting tired, and Kairi could hardly blame him—Kairi helped Ursula (introductions had been made on the three—four, counting George's—way here) get George into her apartment complex. And she thanked every god she could think of that they took the elevator to get to the penthouse, for even as a Keyblade wielder she didn't know if she could have carried George up all those flights of stairs.

Kairi laid George down on Ursula's bed, as the girl called for a doctor to stop by and see him… And it was as she did, that Kairi understood how rich Ursula was—even moreso than she had been as the mayor's daughter, because her family hadn't been able to afford to persuade doctors to make house calls—unless there were just different protocols here…

And it was at this point, that Riku seemed to get uncomfortable… as he seemed to shrink away from all the expensive things around him.

And Kairi wondered for the first time if her own wealth had used to make him uncomfortable… Even in their golden years, had they not been as close as she'd thought they'd been.

"Riku…"

But Kairi's best friend was interrupting her before she could finish her thought. "If you don't mind, I think I might go back to the place we just left and see how that Lyle's doing… There was something about him. I don't know."

Well, that made sense. If Riku thought there was something sinister about him, it made sense that Riku would want to investigate… even if Kairi herself felt called to stay here for whatever reason. "…Of course, Riku. But stay safe. We don't know what we might be up against in this world…"

Riku waved to Kairi as he was walking through his own Corridor of Light… though he didn't promise Kairi he'd be back soon, and she didn't tell him to come back as fast as she could. They weren't quite there yet, after all, and this knowledge made her impossibly sad.

Though Kairi tried to hide it, when she walked up to George and put a Cure spell onto him for good measure.

"Thank you," he told her—with a smile in his voice—as consciousness returned to him.

And Kairi couldn't help beaming herself—reminded, as always, of Sora—as she replied, "Of course."

Kairi then made a show of becoming the Invisible Girl, as doctors and Ursula worried over George. Though even in her solitude and loneliness at the moment, she couldn't help feeling grateful that Ursula had yet to ask what she was… or any other fair question like that.

Kairi wondered how she would even answer that. As the physicians performed their magic, Kairi went outside and did her own—fighting the tiny shoe-like Heartless that she could find if she looked hard enough, though it was clear that this world didn't have much darkness in it… yet—but the whole time she did, she couldn't help feeling like she was the real monster here.

'Sora… If you can somehow sense me, and sending me these alerts about your presence… does that mean you can see the new me and think I'm someone worth something? Or are you blinded by your love for the old me, and are blind as a bat?'

The last group of Heartless that Kairi fought, ganged up on her and tried to grab her by her leg and pull her away… And while Kairi would say she'd had to stab at her thigh to get rid of them all, the truth was that she had wanted to cut herself for some sort of relief.

And it was exactly for that reason, that she was able to return to Ursula acting sane… as ironic as that was.

"Thank you for helping him, for helping us!" Ursula exclaimed, the moment that she saw Kairi again—as she took her hands in hers, and Kairi was reminded of her friendships with Selphie, Olette, Naminé, Xion, Aqua, Giselle, and Carina… the friendship between girls. How she'd been missing it. And maybe it was exactly what she needed to get out of her funk… or so she hoped. "Gosh, I barely even know you, but you've been a truer friend to me than you had any right to be! Know that if you ever need anything—anything!—and if it's in my power to get it for you, I will… Though I'm afraid I have to ask you one more thing… do you think you could stay with George some? At least until he completely heals?"

"Of course!" Kairi readily agreed. But she wondered if it was not her voice speaking, but Sora's… for didn't she have better things to do—like finding Sora—if this world panned out to mean nothing?

But still… Kairi couldn't turn down someone who needed her, could she? What kind of Princess of Heart would she be, if she did? …If she was even still that at all.

"I'm sure you must have a job and stuff. And this city… must be culture shock to George. I'll keep an eye on him as best I can."

Ursula laid a hand on Kairi's shoulder then—in what she could only presume was thanks—and if things had been different… Kairi might have been happier than she'd ever been.

After that—while Kairi and Ursula both kept an eye on George for the time being—Ursula and Kairi ended up playing a game with apple cider (because Kairi still didn't quite drink, thank you very much), where they took a swig from their drink every time one of them said something awful the other had had to go through for being born into the world with certain advantages.

And though George didn't seem to be able to understand a lot of what they were talking about, as they talked (and Kairi feared that he might somehow be getting hammered on the cider), he seemed to be having as much fun as they were… which Kairi was glad for, because she was charmed by her new friend and wanted him to enjoy life. Yes, that was true.

But through their game, Kairi recalled just how many creepy guys had hit on her just for being the mayor's daughter… and how she had one had to defend her virginity with a hairbrush, when Sora and Riku had been away… She pondered if Sora and Riku (saviors of the galaxy) would be impressed by her achievement there or not.

Kairi knew that she herself wasn't. As always, she should have been better and stronger… and done more, so she'd never been in that situation to begin with. Or really incapacitated him in a form of revenge.

…But none of that mattered now. Happy game time was over, and it was now bedtime.

But as Kairi slept… she dreamed. Dreamed of things that she got the sense were supposed to happen in this world, in a few days' time, but that she was somehow seeing now.

She saw Ursula going to her own engagement party—oh. She'd been engaged to that Lyle guy?—and instead falling for George, as he ran with the horses… She witnessed George saving someone from falling from a ridiculous height… And Ursula realizing she loved George and admitting it to her mother…

And then… and then the softest waves all about her, and suddenly a Foreteller. Kairi ran towards that Foreteller, standing on a single stone in a roaring sea now… and then seemed to teleport there.

Before Kairi's very eyes, was a girl in gorgeous rose-colored robes, that the princess herself wished she had. And while Kairi wanted to attack her—because that was just the norm now in dealing with what might as well have been this new Organization XIII, wasn't it?—Kairi found her heart resisting that notion now, for whatever reason.

And instead, in the softest voice she'd ever used with one of her enemies, Kairi asked with a hand held under her chin, "What do you want? What does your Master want? Please tell me."

And thankfully, this woman-with a very sweet voice, Kairi would come to see—thought it appropriate to answer her, as she herself glided closer to Kairi. "It's good that you somewhat separated me from the Master with that question. Because my wants and his don't exactly line up. For a time, the only ally I had was myself... And I wish it could have stayed that way. But now, I find I'm reluctantly on his side again. Since, despite everything, he is still my father."

Of course… even though Kairi could try to sympathize with this lady here—and her heart was screaming at her to—this made her furious, because no matter what… right was still right.

But then again, maybe she only thought that because she'd never had to choose before. All the stars twinkling around Kairi now seemed to call her a liar. Because the truth was… if she had to choose between the World and her adopted father or her grandmother… would she choose as Sora did? Kairi honestly wasn't sure anymore.

Thankfully, the small Foreteller missed Kairi's moral dilemma here and carried on with what she had been saying… and Kairi was thrilled. It wouldn't do to let the enemy know they had a faltering Princess of Heart on their hands, after all.

"But as for what the Master wants... I won't say all of it—because I don't want to fully ruin his plans. Some of his ideas are good—but more than anything, he desires unity. Since he knows what being without it has caused."

Kairi wanted to argue that the history books from the Islands told her that when most people started wanting this kind of thing, it always led to bloodshed… but she didn't.

Instead, Kairi was focused on the pastel pink Keyblade that was now pointed at her chin. There was something about this Keyblade that reminded Kairi of her own, Destiny's Embrace, but she couldn't imagine why… because they weren't that similar.

She also couldn't understand why the girl was aiming her Keyblade at her now, when until now she'd mostly seemed the pacifist… unless she was trying to show her something now. But whatever that was, Kairi could only begin to imagine. So, she thought she might tell this stranger something instead.

"I think you had the right of it before… going against your dad if he's planning some evil things, is the right thing to do. It's like how I couldn't fully forgive my friend Riku for some of the awful things he did, even if it was for my sake."

And that was a truth she'd never admitted to anyone before. Barely even herself. So why was she saying such things now?

The woman smiled sadly at this. She then leaned in and kissed Kairi on the cheek, entirely shocking her. And Kairi felt Pip come out of her hood here—to try and defend her honor, perhaps—but the woman swiftly showed that she wasn't aiming for anything crooked here, as she whispered into Kairi's ear. "Time heals all wounds, don't you think? You should let that go, Kairi. Listen to Ava."

And Kairi woke up to see George standing before her, with bruises all over his body—clearly from exertion—and it seemed to her that he must have already saved the man she'd seen briefly in her dream.

…

At first, Kairi wanted to believe that she'd just somehow had psychic visions here—even though that would have been scary in its own right—but it was when Kairi started reliving some of the things that she'd dreamt about, that she realized that some sort of time travel was in effect here: because even Ursula would sometimes turn to her, as though she was having déjà vu.

Right now, Kairi was at Ursula's engagement party—something she was enjoying, because it felt good to take a break from the doom and gloom and having to worry about the World's safety again—and she was watching George run with white horses, alongside Ursula and her friends.

…George looked attractive while doing this. And if her heart didn't belong to Sora, she might have been moved by it. So, she certainly understood why everyone else was.

But Kairi soon found that it was George's kindness more than anything, that was moving Ursula—as he walked over to them and explained, "I just thought the horsies here might get bored, if no one played with them."

So, he hadn't been doing that to be manipulative and look powerful. Really, Kairi knew she should have supposed that that was the truth. But with how she'd been abused so much by men in the Organization—and now the Master of Masters—she sometimes forgot that there were decent ones out there.

"Someone named Yozora is also awful," Ursula said to Kairi then—as if she'd read Kairi's mind—whilst she ruffled George's hair. But she'd spoken that as if she'd been in a trance.

And Kairi was completely baffled by this, because she was starting to understand that this "New York" didn't have many sounding names like that, if any. So, who was this Yozora… and why had Ursula felt the need to speak of him?

Was that what she was supposed to find out here, that was connected to Sora? The name sounded like Sora's, that was for sure. And as she whispered it now… Kairi almost felt as though she was saying Sora's name, like sometimes she thought of herself when she heard "Naminé" now.

But this discussion of Yozora was swiftly forgotten about, when Ursula's mother—who seemed off to Kairi—came outside to have a private word with George.

And somehow, Kairi wasn't surprised at all when George was gone the next day, having left again for Bukuvu to save Ape.

"This just reeks of my mother! I know she did this!" Ursula fumed, as she paced back and forth in her bedroom.

And Kairi told her the honest truth, as she laid down on the bed and wished to sleep… She'd been wanting to sleep a lot since coming to this world. And while Kairi wanted to believe it was because of a spell that Ava was perhaps putting on her, she knew it was really because she was depressed. "…She probably did… As silly as it is to say this, I figure she did because this is the plot in so many books and movies. And you have everything here… I can understand why your parents would be leery of you throwing that away. Mine would probably behave the same way… though they may not have strong-armed someone like George so much."

Honestly, Kairi missed George—well, as much as her heart could miss anyone who wasn't Sora—since last night, she'd planned on trying to show George some slides of modern things, like Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Jane had shown Tarzan… though she'd near instantly learned that George didn't need them. He'd been very thankful of her efforts, however.

"I'm going to go have a word with her!" Ursula bellowed. "And then you and I are going back to George's home, and are going to help him heal his surrogate father! …And if your friend really went back there for Lyle, we're going to help him get over his crush on him, too!"

"Wait… what?!" Kairi demanded. But Ursula didn't clarify what she meant by that. Instead, she was going to the room that her parents were staying at here after the engagement party had ended late.

Just a few rooms away, Kairi could hear Ursula's mother unintentionally making her daughter realize she was in love with George (just like in her dream), and the two of them arguing about it… but Kairi couldn't focus on that right now.

Did Ursula really think that Riku had somehow gained feelings for Lyle?! Now that she made herself think about it, perhaps Riku had had feelings for Sora for some time—man, did they ever need to talk, if that was true—so if Lyle somehow reminded him of Sora… then maybe.

But Lyle seemed like a vile person, so if Kairi had to save Riku's heart from being broken by him, she would!

Kairi was walking towards where Ursula and her mom were still yelling at each other—to insist that they leave now, if they could—when Kairi bumped into Ursula's dad: she'd met him the night before.

And he seemed to be much more level-headed about his daughter's feelings than her mother was. "I support whatever decision makes Ursula happy, of course," he started as he saw Kairi. "But do you really think this is the best decision for her to make?"

And Kairi grinned, somehow reminded of her decision to do everything she could for Naminé and to give her the chance to live to the best of her ability. "Just… love your daughter. Love is the reason we're here, after all."

Kairi then approached the room that Ursula was in, grabbed her arm—because it looked like she was ready to leave anyway—and whisked her away.

…

This time around, Kairi agreed to fly on Ursula's private jet to get to George and Riku. As this time, she didn't think they were in too much trouble. Ape seemed to be, but hopefully George was already taken good care of him.

But even if she didn't feel much like a Princess of Heart anymore, she had a duty to the worlds and the World Order, so it was probably best to not screw with it once more in this world.

She supposed she was also somewhat doing this to try and stick it to the Master of Masters some. Because if he wanted unity… maybe he wanted the worlds to know about each other again. In which case, she wasn't going to give the evil man what he wanted… how she hated him.

Pip thought that Kairi was being reckless, too. He came out and talked to her while they were flying back to the much more flora-filled part of this world. He had seen her cut herself, and since then he'd kept quiet to see what she would do next… and he wasn't impressed with some of the choices she'd been making.

And here, Kairi couldn't help but sigh and to try and hide behind her hair some. Great. Now even her knew best friend hated her.

At was at this point that Kairi escaped to fight some Shadows that were on the jet—thankfully, Ursula was completely missing them as she flew—and as she swung each one, she couldn't help being terrified that they were actually drawn to the darkness in her heart, if there was some there. A troubling thought, indeed.

As was the situation Kairi and Ursula walked into when they made it back to the tree house. Some poachers were trying to take Ape with them, in having learned that he could talk—clearly, they had never seen other anthropomorphic beings before—and George was trying to stop them, of course, and Riku, too… Something that made Kairi's heart sing, because it reminded her of Sora.

But then it all went into Hell in a handbasket, as it would have. "You have got to be kidding me!" Ursula was complaining now. "Lyle, they let you out of prison. Or did you escape?"

And before Kairi could blink, he had darted over and grabbed Ursula with a gun pointed to her cheek. "I am now certified to perform wedding ceremonies, Ursula. And we're going to get married. I have our vows right here."

"Ursula!" George called. And it was clear to see that he was torn between saving his father or the love of his life.

Kairi would have tried to rescue Ursula—and Riku too, she was sure—if at that second, the poachers hadn't sent their own bullets flying at everyone.

As time seemed to slow down to a crawl, Kairi did her best to deflect them all with her Keyblade. And Riku was doing the same thing ...which was enough for the poachers to give up and run away, as they witnessed the two's powers…

But while Kairi didn't think that the thieves were working with Lyle, what they had done was the perfect opportunity to take off with Ursula.

Riku pounded his fist on the ground angrily here. And as pathetic as it was to say, Kairi was completely at a loss on how to comfort him. Maybe because she wasn't entirely sure where his emotions were at here. "Dangit. I thought he was a little like me—and had gotten on the right track, but could be saved—…I was wrong."

"If your choice of action was to try and be someone's hero here, you couldn't have been wrong, friend. In fact, I know what I have to do now," George said, while he patted Riku on the shoulder before heading off in the direction that Lyle had taken Ursula, with Ape right behind him.

"Riku… we need to talk now," Kairi told her friend, as she helped him to his feet. The mulch he'd been sitting on had stained Riku's jeans a slight brown color, that wasn't completely unlike Sora's hair color. Kairi swallowed. "You love Sora, don't you? You seem to think I pushed you away… but you've done that to me, too. Is this why? And what? You wanted to help Lyle because he reminded you of him?"

Riku glared at Kairi. And for the first time she could remember, she found herself almost being afraid of him—and had to take a step back—but the look dissipated just like that, and instead a single tear fell from his eye. "Yeah, Kairi… I do love Sora. Or did. I don't know. I do have some feelings for Naminé now, as you've noticed. I also used to like you… And I wanted to help Lyle, partly because I thought he was like me. But there was a bit of Sora, too… Lyle exudes a gay energy. And I'm sorry… You know I think Sora's completely straight in his love for you, but you've got to admit that he's the same that way. But that failed. So I failed again. But oh well.

"But since we're talking about painful topics here… do you mind telling me what. I did to piss you off so much?"

Kairi did not want to answer this. But she supposed she had no choice, since she had just forced Riku to talk about such painful things.

She wanted to use the excuse that they needed to save Ursula, so she wouldn't have to talk about it… even though Kairi knew in her heart of hearts, that she would be fine. But she didn't, in knowing that she owed Riku and their old bond more than that.

"Riku… you were willing to kill for me. Pinocchio, for instance… You also didn't care what was going to happen to the worlds through Maleficent's plan—and your helping her—as long as it got you me… You also kidnapped Princesses of Heart. But I'm going to shut up now, because I swear I'm not here to read you all your sins. Especially since I probably have you beaten in that category these days. And while I appreciate that you were trying to do that to save me. I also hate that you would have made me an accessory to murder that way. At least I did… And maybe I was somewhat jealous of all the time that you got to spend with Sora lately, that I didn't. I don't know."

Kairi crossed her arms over her chest here, feeling very uncomfortable. She was even about to go hide in the treehouse, if she needed to. But Riku startled her just as Ava had, when he was suddenly before her and kissed her on the cheek—but almost on the lips, and maybe that had even been his intention—and somehow, she thought everything that had just happened between them was exactly what had needed to transpire to make them good with each other again.

"There, Kairi. Was us treating each other siblings again really that hard?"

Kairi laughed. Because even though she got where Riku was coming from—he had only kissed her cheek, after the two of them had spilled their hearts out about their romantic love for Sora, essentially—siblings didn't almost kiss each other on the lips… and not after they admitted they'd once had feelings for each other. And yes, Kairi had had feelings for Riku for a hot second, long ago. So this probably was the perfect closure that they'd needed.

"No, Riku. I guess it wasn't."

And feeling as though he was the wing beneath her wings, Kairi glided towards a waterfall nearby, where it looked like Lyle still had Ursula kept hostage. And she landed on the boat to free her from it… only to realize that George had Ursula in his arms on the cliff above them, and Lyle had just said his vows to Ape, who was now kissing him.

Her work here was done… Kairi let herself fall back into the water, and float away—feeling completely blissed out for the moment.

…

Things happened pretty fast after that. George and Ursula were getting married, of course… and they were doing so here.

Ursula's family—and maybe even her friends—were flying out to witness it. And Kairi and Riku decided to stay for it, after they were asked to.

And Kairi agreed pretty easily. She knew, not that long ago, she'd somewhat regretted staying in the Caribbean so long, when Sora needed them. And she'd even been afraid that the Restoration Committee would hate her for that choice. But now she realized just how self-absorbed that sentiment had been. This was all part of the journey to find Sora, after all. So, of course, she would stay for her new friends on their day. How often had Sora got distracted on his adventures?

So, a few days later, everyone was having a grand old time. Kairi was even nearly convincing Ursula's mother to give the pair a chance… though the alcohol she was encouraging the older woman to drink might have been a large part of that.

Speaking of, RIku—who said he was almost eighteen now—had decided to try some champagne, and had quickly fallen in love. He was even offering to sing a song for the married couple now, so Kairi knew he must have been a little tipsy.

But of course, when things would start to feel alright again… they would all fall to pieces.

Kairi saw the Master of Masters standing a ways away from her now—in a more secluded part of the forest—and Kairi found herself going to him, as if she were a puppet on a string.

"Have you again taken a break from looking for Sora? You disappoint me, Kairi."

Kairi summoned her Keyblade to hand, but it was different from Destiny's Embrace this time as she'd put a Keychain on it. A Keychain from this world, that turned the teeth into a groom and bride from a wedding cake: probably because there had been so much romance here.

"Yeah, well… I'm sorry to disappoint. Actually, I'm not. I will find Sora—though I don't know why you would want me to, since he's your enemy who will undo all your plans—but I'm not going to lose myself to do it. Not when you apparently want me to be angry for some reason."

"…Even though, more than once, he's completely lost himself for you."

And despite everything that Kairi had just promised herself, she found herself attacking the Master of Masters for this, as she screamed.

No doubt, she was inviting a lot of attention her way—on George and Ursula's happiest of days—but she hoped that no one would come after her… that the music would drown this out, because they all deserved to be happy. She would deal with this mess herself.

He summoned Xehanort's disgusting Keyblade, because of course he did, and sent an "X" bathed in fire her way, but Kairi was quick to jump over it.

She then sent her light Pearl attack—though actually created from real pearls: an impressive technique that she'd recently taught herself—at the Master's face, but he dodged by doing a backflip out of the way.

Once the man was on his feet again, he kicked at Kairi's legs and she was ashamed to admit that he actually knocked her down.

He had his Keyblade poised over her head then, but before he could decapitate her with it—or whatever he might have planned to do—Kairi grabbed his arm with all her strength, so he couldn't move it. Much like Xion had done to save Axel from Xemnas' ethereal blades.

"Why are you even here?!" Kairi growled. "You already sent your Ava after me here. I thought only one minion per world would bother me."

"…Because this isn't some perfect little story, Kairi. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

And before Kairi could react, the man slammed his Keyblade down on the pressure point of her neck so that she passed out… And when she woke up, she found he hadn't done anything to her. Hadn't kidnapped her, as a Princess of Heart, to further his goals or anything. And somehow… that was the biggest insult of all.

What? Had he beaten her in a fight just to humiliate her?

And as Kairi became furious at that notion, she expected her insanity to come back in full-swing… but it didn't. Kairi's mind felt sane. And that horrified her more than anything. Would her new strength be gone if her mind worked right again?

In her hoodie, Pip had laid his paws on Kairi's shoulder—clearly trying to keep her from going over the edge—but she didn't want him to be.

She wanted to fall… in this happy world, or no.

Author's Note: This chapter gave me fits, so that's why it took me so long to finish and post. I'm sorry about that:(

I always wanted this world in here. Partly because, so far, the worlds Kairi have gone to are somewhat similar to Sora's ones from KH1. Enchanted was two worlds (Andalasia and New York) like Wonderland is (Wonderland and England), the Pirates of the Caribbean movies are full of Greek mythology like Hercules is. And now George of the Jungle is clearly a lot like Deep Jungle/Tarzan.

But then when I decided that Kairi and Riku would believe that Sora is in a data world… I didn't know if this would fit, because would it still seem like filler? I thought about skipping this world altogether, but in the end I'm glad I didn't. And I hope you all feel the same way, too.

Another issue I had, is that this movie is mostly comedic and this story… is not. Hopefully I struck some sort of balance here, but IDK.

I almost feel like there should have been more dialogue and stuff from the George of the Jungle characters here—and more George—but whatever. This chapter is finally done, and I'm glad about it.

…I feel like there was a lot I wanted to say here, but now I kind of forget. If I remember, I might add on.

Ben is from the Disney Channel Original Movie "Smart House". Originally, I was going to have FFX-2!Yuna to somewhat beware Kairi of chasing dreams… but then I realized that that didn't work for obvious reasons, so Ben it became.

Oh. And since Re:Mind isn't canon to this story, I tried to have everyone looking for Sora in ways that they aren't in canon… though Mickey, Donald, and Goofy are doing what Kairi is in Melody of Memory. Haha.

And I'm sorry if there are a ton of mistakes here (though hopefully there aren't). I rewrote most of this… and am too lazy to go back and reread those sections. So, yeah.

Welp, see you all soon. I hope.

I hope everyone's having a great October thus far!

Edit: I'm also going with that Destiny Islands didn't have bananas here. So shh.

Edit 2: I swear there isn't going to be a lot of time travel in this, if any more at all. It was only "there" last time-though not even that-because I wanted Kairi and Riku to be in Dead Men Tell No Tales. And while it's sooooooooooooooooomewhat story important here, I mostly did it to try and spice up this comedic movie some. Yeah.

Edit 3: Kairi defending her virginity with a hairbrush is a reference to sunflowerb on fanfiction's amazing "Smile and Nod" story.

#swallow #my writing #Shanna writes #my work #mine #swallow chapter five #kairi #sokai #riku and kairi friendship

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coleisunderrated · 5 years

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My 100th Post

I can’t believe it happened so soon. I made it to 100 posts without being eaten alive on this hellsite. To celebrate this milestone, remember that post with my headcanon of Ash perfectly mimicking Zane’s voice? I went through with the idea of making a short story based on Kai’s quote so here it is!

Kai sat in one of those rooms where prisoners get to talk to friends and relatives while being separated by those glass walls. The orange jumpsuit was so uncomfortable, especially because he was literally wearing nothing else. Apparently, being a ninja doesn’t make him exempt from the law but it better be worth it...

“Where is he?” Kai’s ears picked up a familiar silky smooth voice carrying hints of exasperation.

An officer guided the white ninja to the room where Kai awaits him. Zane sat on the other side of the glass and stared at him with a face that was worthy of being next to the word ‘disappointment’ in the dictionary.

“Zane! Thank god you’re here!” Kai didn’t care how pissed the nindroid was and he still wouldn’t respond but it didn’t matter. The fire ninja will get what’s been promised to him. After several moments where no words were exchanged, the fire ninja went straight to the point.

“So... now are you gonna lemme smash?” Kai bluntly asked.

“Why would I want to do that after what you just did?!” Zane finally broke his silence in an incredulous tone and looked at the fire ninja like he was some sort of disgusting creature. Everyone else in the room turned to stare at the normally calm ice ninja yelling at Kai.

“But that’s what you told me to do!” The fire ninja still insisted.

“I would never allow you to do something as foolish as that!”

“And yet you did! You called me at exactly 11:28 from McRonald’s!”

“I wasn’t there at the time!”

“Then where were you!?”

“I was at the Samurai X layer helping Nya and Pixal all morning! I told you I was going to meet them and I even made food for Nya and Pixal doesn’t like to eat! There was nothing to necessitate a visit to any eateries!”

“Wait, so you’re telling me you didn’t tell me to run around Mega Monster Amusement Park naked singing All Star!?” Kai asked, not happy that he humiliated himself all for nothing.

“NO!” The ice ninja was one iota away from the robot equivalence of a brain aneurysm.

“But you really said that and I have proof! I just need my phone!”

“Officer, if you please.” Zane beckoned the security guard to fetch the device.

The brawny guy searched through Kai’s confiscated items and soon found the fire ninja’s phone and handed it over to Zane. With a simple scan, Zane gleaned the password and searched through the records of all the calls Kai received and found the most recent contact. The phone number didn’t match up with anyone the ninja know. Zane couldn’t believe Kai was so trusting as to accept a call from a complete stranger.

“This is not a number any of us have ever contacted before. Why did you even answer in the first place?”

Just listen to the voicemail!” Kai urged the nindroid to keep investigating.

With some reluctance, the white ninja checked the voicemail from the number. Little did he know he’s in for an unpleasant surprise.

“Greetings, Kai.” A voice that sounded just like Zane’s spoke, leaving the ice ninja stunned. Only Pixal could replicate his voice but she never left the Samurai X lair so it can’t be her.

“I have something very important to tell you but only if you call back.” Whoever imitated Zane repeated with each and every ignored call.

“Apparently, you did call back...” Zane glared at Kai. He still can’t believe the red ninja allowed himself to be duped so easily.

“Luckily for you, I had our conversation recorded in case you’re still in denial!” Kai remained defiant and Zane was tempted to leave him right then and there. Still, he planned to discover the truth and played the recording...

“Zane, is that you?” Kai’s voice played out.

“Of course it’s me. Do you not recognize the voice of the one you love?” The same person replied again with a perfect impression of the nindroid’s voice. It was so strange for Zane to hear his own voice coming from someone else besides himself and Pixal.

The more Zane listened, the more appalled he became. This imposter had potentially defamed his character and manipulated Kai into tarnishing his permanent record. Not only that but they said a bunch of stuff the real Zane would never say. He still can’t believe Kai fell for it. The white ninja wasn’t going to let this person go so easily. He’s going to find them and deliver karma.

“I must get to the bottom of this.” Zane didn’t hesitate to begin his own quest to solve this mystery.

“Wait! But who’s gonna bail me out!? You can’t just leave me here! Zane!” Kai banged on the glass but the white ninja was out of the building within seconds.

He better get back before he has to go into those prison showers...

Zane went straight to Borg Industries and searched the data of the phone number. Turns out the owner of the phone was someone named Brent M. That’s one clue down. Next, the nindroid searched for all the Brent M.s in Ninjago, assuming the owner of the phone had some sort or relation with anyone the ninja knew. He looked through their family history, Bookface accounts, and even Instameter. It was time-consuming but a ninja never quits. The nindroid kept snooping until something caught his glowing optics in the ninteenth Brent M.’s Instameter. He recognized the person that apparently had blood ties with him.

This Brent was a distant relative of none other than Ash, the Master of Smoke. Looks like he’ll be paying the elemental master a visit...

One moment the Elemental Masters were minding their business and the next thing they knew, a freak blizzard struck their house. Before they could investigate, a figure clad in white marched in.

“Zdravstvuyte Zane!” Karlof greeted the nindroid cheerily, oblivious to the bitter cold and the ice ninja’s dark expression, “Why visit at time like this?”

“Where. Is. Ash?” Zane glowered, his voice distorted with rage and the calm way he spoke made it all the more terrifying.

“Oh! Ash hiding in kitchen! Ash! Say hello to Zane!” Karlof unwittingly ratted out the Master of Smoke he spotted under the table in the other room.

It took less than a split second before Ash found himself encased in ice from the neck down. Right in front of him was Zane and now he wished the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was true because death was much more merciful than what the nindroid probably has in store for him.

“You were the one who called Kai, am I correct?” The ice ninja hovered over the incapacitated Elemental Master with a voice to match the terrible cold.

“W--w what are y-you t-t-talking about...?!” Ash asked through clattering teeth.

“Don’t feign innocence. I tracked down the call and you’re the only person with access to that number as well as knowing Kai’s.”

The Master of Smoke should’ve known Zane would find out. The nindroid never knows when to quit.

“Dude, it was just a prank!” The Master of Smoke confessed, “No one was physically hurt so what’s the big deal?”

“Oh? And what if I get destroy all your belongings and then say it’s just a prank? Will that make it better? I can do that right now if that’s what you think.” Zane went for the cupboards and found Ash’s collection of snacks from his home country.

“Y-you’re not r-r-really gonna d-do that a-are you?” Ash asked but the white ninja didn’t respond. The nindroid mutely dropped a handful of Gansitos onto the ground and began stomping on them.

“No! Anything but that! Stop!” The Elemental Master begged but the nindroid moved on to the de la Rosa Mazapan and scattered the fragile peanut candy all over the already ruined Gansitos, completely ignoring Ash’s pleas. He paused to give him an ultimatum, “Did I hear something? Oh well. I won’t stop until I hear an apology.” With that, he moved on to the Pulparindo, tearing up the tamarind pulp into shreds.

Ash still pleaded but Zane kept destroying his precious hoard like he didn’t exist. The nindroid crushed every last Vero Mango lollipop until he moved on to the next snack...

“No! Not the Takis! Anything but the Takis!” Ash cried out and still, the white ninja ignored him. He opened a bag and fetched a bottle of milk and was about to pour it onto the super spicy snack until...

“Okay, okay! Fine! I’m sorry! I’ll tell everyone the truth! Just leave the Takis alone!” Ash finally caved in, now a blubbering mess.

“Are you gonna tell them everything?” Zane made sure Ash was being truthful. He wasn’t going to accept a half-assed mumbled fake apology like Lloyd does all the time.

“Yes! I’m sorry! Now let me go!”

The white ninja took an uncomfortably long time pondering over the thought of freeing Ash.

“Okay, but not only will you have to tell Kai the truth but also...”

Several hours later...

Kai was surprised to see Ash with Zane once he finally returned.

“Zane, what the hell is Ash doing here?” Kai asked.

“Tell him.” Zane curtly ordered the Master of Smoke to speak for himself.

“Uh... you remember that call ‘Zane’ sent you...?” Ash started.

“Yeah...?”

“It’s actually a funny story. You see, it all started when...”

More hours later...

Before he knew it, Kai was now stuck in a specially made fireproof cell in the Kryptarium Prison. Zane stood before him but this time, he couldn’t bring himself to even look at him.

“What did I do this time!?” The fire ninja complained.

“Really? You’re asking me that after committing attempted murder and arson?” Zane retorted dryly, “Now I’m gonna have to wait for Ash to get out of the hospital before he can make up for what he did...”

“And that is...?”

“Originally, I was going to make him pay for you bail but that will have to wait.”

“Really? You let him off the hook that easily?”

“Not exactly,” Zane retorted with an eerily calm aura, "That alone wouldn’t have been good enough. He will also have to drive me to my appointments with a therapist for separation counseling.”

“Hehe, gotta love when your humor switch is on!” Kai chuckled.

Zane stared at Kai coldly and briefly opened his chest panel to reveal the switch was off. Without saying a word, the ice ninja left.

“Zane...?” Now Kai was getting scared. What if they really do break up? Even worse, Zane was already gone.

...

The anguished cry of the ice ninja’s name echoed across the entire realm of Ninjago.

#ninjago #ninjago ash #oppositeshipping #my writing #might write when ash called kai idk

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dbhtychou · 5 years

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You and Me at the End of the World

Connor x Reader

Sequel to Friends With Benefits

Summary: Inspired by the polar vortex that happened last winter. I have a friend who lives in Chicago while that happened and was telling me all about it. Connor and reader are stuck indoors while it's far too cold to go outside, even for an android. (I started writing this in the winter and then forgot about it.)

Hank didn't know how Connor called him. He knew the android didn't have a phone, or a phone number for that matter. But still, his phone buzzed and when the screen showed no number, he knew it was Connor.

“No, do not try to come back home, I mean it,” Hank said to Connor on the phone. “It's supposed to get to fifty below by tomorrow morning. No one should be outside. They're going to set the fucking train tracks on fire for God's sake. Not even you are going to survive that cold. If she's letting you say, then stay until this shitty weather is done. You hear me?”

“I understand, Hank. Take care of yourself and Sumo.”

“Okay, good luck.”

***************

“Hank wishes us luck,” Connor reported as he cut the connection. He did not add the inferring tone Hank had in his voice when he said it.

“We're going to need it,” (Name) said. “It's anyone's guess when the water pipes will be fixed. I don't even know if they can be fixed before the polar vortex lifts. Thank you so much for picking up a few gallons of water from the store.” She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

He smiled at the contact. That cute, crooked, boyish smile that he had. “My pleasure. I am happy to assist you in anything you need.”

“Can you assist in fixing those water pipes?” she teased.

“That, I'm afraid, is out of my realm of expertise.”

“Still amazing anyway,” she praised with a wink and turned her attention back to the food cooking on the stove.

Connor sat himself politely at the table as he watched her cook. He wished, not for the first time, that eating was an activity in which androids could participate. Many human social practices revolved around meals. The dating aspect was no different with common traditions of taking a romantic interest to dinner or out for a drink. Connor could offer these options, but could not participate. As such, it could be awkward to both parties. Sometimes it was even awkward with Hank. The few times his partner would actually prepare himself a real meal, he would complain of Connor watching him while he ate. But Connor was not sure of what else to do with himself.

The same was here as well. He watched (Name) at the stove with trepidation. The weather had him trapped at her apartment, he couldn't just leave. And he truly didn't want to. He had been pursuing her company since that fall rainy day when he left her speechless at the bus stop. Maybe even before then.

She had rejected his very blunt 'friends with benefits' plan. She wasn't that kind of girl, she said. She would only be intimate with someone she loved. Later, she did return with a compromise: if Connor wished to learn more about the physical aspects of getting to know a person, she was willing to do the small things. They had held hands. She had fallen asleep on his shoulder a few times when they watched movies. Since the fall, there had been very little else.

Connor hadn't minded. His goals had changed. He was no longer as interested in learning the intricacies of physical human intimacy. Yet. The former deviant hunter in him wanted the more difficult prize. He wanted her love; he wanted to her fall for him. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to achieve this. Talking to Hank wasn't any help either.

“Look, Connor, it either happens when it happens or it doesn't. That's just the way it is,” was the best explanation Hank could offer.

Connor found this reply unsatisfactory and was determined to learn the full equation of human romance himself. So far, he was very much lacking in data. They had spent time together these past few months. (Name) was always happy to see him, to spend time with him. They enjoyed each other's company, they became closer friends. But there was little else. The spark of this human emotion of love seemed elusive still and Connor did not know how to gain it.

So he continued to see her, to study her. And to frown at her back slightly while he watched her stand at the stove, preparing himself for a meal made awkward since he could could only watch her eat. Something humans were not comfortable with.

(Name) finished cooking and fixed her plate. Then she turned and motioned her head toward the living area. “Thanks for waiting. We can go now.”

Go? Connor followed her and she plopped herself on the couch, folding her legs under her with the plate propped up on her thighs.

“So, what's up with that RK900 model?” (Name) suddenly asked him while she ate. “Why would Cyberlife even think of releasing that after all that's happened?”

Connor raised a brow at her, surprised at the sudden topic. The RK900, practically dropped on the DPD's doorstep with little explanation, was the subject of plenty of office gossip. To the other humans. No one talked about it around him. No one had asked him other than Hank's initial “What the fuck is that?” when he first saw the new android.

“I'm a prototype,” Connor responded in his 'just the facts ma'am' voice she sometimes accused him of. “The RK900 was supposed to be the resulting model developed for commercial release. Or, I suppose, military release would be more accurate.”

“And yet there seems to be only one of him, and he's at the precinct,” she responded.

“I cannot say why the RK900 was released. I have long since left Cyberlife. I do not affiliate with them anymore.”

“Good, you shouldn't. You're much better off here where people care about you.” Connor smiled a little to himself at her admission of caring. She didn't notice as she chewed thoughtfully. “Have you ever like... talked to him?”

Connor blinked at her. “No,” he realized.

“Why? Is it because he looks like you? Is that weird? It would be weird to me.”

He thought about it. Practically every android in the city, save maybe Markus, had at least a handful of other androids that looked to be their carbon copies. It didn't seem to bother them. This one sudden RK unit that appeared a few weeks ago was the first android Connor had ever met that looked exactly like him. But looks were all they had in common. Their inner build was different. Not even their basic programming was the same. Connor wasn't sure if same-model androids felt any kinship to each other, but Connor certainly felt none of that toward the RK900. It was a stranger to him. An Other with his face. And Connor suddenly realized that not only had he never conversed with the RK900, he had never wanted to.

“You okay?” (Name) then asked. “You look a little concerned. Your LED is yellow.”

Connor blinked, trying to put his thoughts and feelings in order. “I honestly don't know how I feel about the RK900. I... I think I have been actively avoiding the subject and him on purpose.”

“It's okay if he makes you uncomfortable, Connor. You're allowed to feel that way. Though there may be some point where you will have to converse with him at work.”

“You're right. I'm going to think on this.”

“Do you mind if... I talked to him?”

Connor's LED roiled back to yellow. His brows went down and (Name) knew her answer before he said anything.

“Don't worry, I promise I will always like you better,” she assured with affection.

Connor wasn't sure why, but that statement soothed whatever emotional turmoil plagued him.

“Be right back.” (Name) stood from the couch and took the empty plate with her. Connor had completely forgotten she was even eating in front of him. It had been as comfortable as ever. He was always comfortable around her, he realized. Even the first time he met her. Their personalities just fit, like two pieces of a puzzle that were always meant to lock together.

His gaze followed her as she walked back into the kitchen. Then, the lights suddenly went out and they were dropped into pitch blackness. A power outage, Connor thought calmly. He wasn't surprised with the weather outside. It was bound to happen.

“Connor?”

He stood, called by not just his name, but the anxious tone in her voice. He had never heard her sound so lost and vulnerable before. It awakened a protective streak in him and he strode with purpose to the kitchen.

“I'm here.” His night vision made it easy to see her reaching out blindly in the darkness. He took her outstretched hand and felt certain satisfaction when she immediately came into his space.

“There you are. I can see your LED.” With her free hand, she touched the blue circle at his temple and swirled her finger around it. She didn't touch his face often. Connor found himself bending down closer, wishing she would touch him more.

“Too bad you're not wearing your jacket,” she added. “It would make you easier to find. I've always liked how it glowed.”

“I'll wear it for you in the dark another time,” came the cheeky response.

She laughed. “I'm really glad you're here. I think I would have freaked out if I was alone when this happened.”

“Don't worry, I'll always keep you safe.” His low tone sent a tingle up her spine and she fought to shake it off.

“I can't see a thing. Do you think you could find my phone for me?”

In the pitch, she felt Connor's fingers ghost down her arm before he said, “Stay there. I'll be right back.”

In the dark, she already wanted him back when his presence left her. It was almost annoying. She had been on her own so long, why was she suddenly allowing herself to turn into this scared little girl around him when she knew she could have handled this on her own? But what she said was true. She was glad he was there. It wasn't just a simple power outage. She was in the pitch, trapped by a chill beyond the walls that could kill a person. There was something eerie about that.

“I found it,” Connor said as his footfalls entered the kitchen.

She saw the floating LED before his hand found hers and he placed the device against her palm. “Perfect! Thanks!” With her usual gusto now returned, she used her phone screen as a flashlight to clean up from dinner, but then remembered that the apartment's water pipes were still busted. “I guess that will have to do for now.” She frowned at the dishes in the sink. She hated leaving dishes undone. Tapping her fingers on the counter top, she looked to Connor. “No water. No power to watch movies. I don't even own a single board game. I guess tonight's a bust.”

“I'm sure we can figure out something,” Connor said with amusement. “Neither of us are going anywhere.”

“True,” she agreed as she walked past him and Connor was happy she didn't seem disappointed he was stuck in the apartment with her. “I think I have some candles and a flashlight somewhere.”

When (Name) stepped into the living area, she noticed a strip of what seemed like light streaming in from her nearly closed curtains. She walked to the sliding glass door of her fifth floor balcony and pushed open the drapes. There were no lights on outside, but the city was still bright. The moon was out, reflecting off the white snow that covered everything.

“Look at that,” (Name) breathed as Connor joined her at the window. “Not a soul out there, all the buildings completely dark. Absolutely deadly outside. It looks like the end of the world.”

“Eerie and somehow beautiful at the same time,” Connor said.

(Name) sat herself right there on the floor, eyes glued to the scene outside. “It really makes me feel grateful I have some place that's warm and safe.” She looked to Connor. “And a good friend who's here with me.”

Connor's frown in response was puzzling to her.

“What?” she asked with slight amusement. “You always make that frowny face when you're confused.”

He turned from her, his LED rolling from blue to yellow and back again. “When you said I'm your friend, I felt... disappointment. I don't know why. I like being your friend.”

“But...?” she pressed.

He did that thing where his brows went up and down while he thought. It always made her want to laugh when he did that. But she was trying to stay quiet while he processed. Certain aspects of Connor's deviancy required some time to parse out and (Name) let him have the time he needed.

“I... I really want more than your friendship. I've said this before. But I also... don't want to not have your friendship. I don't know if both can exist at the same time. I am not very good at the nuances of human relationships.”

(Name) took a moment to think on this, taking her gaze from him back to the dead, frozen city before them. “Relationships can be complicated and confusing, even to us. And there are many, many types of relationships with millions of variances for each person. It really depends on what that person wants and if the other person in the relationship can offer that or not, and visa versa.”

“What do you want in a relationship, (Name)?”

She shyly kept her gaze from him. “I've always wanted someone who was my friend as well as the person I loved. I don't just want to love them, I want to like them, too. I want to enjoy just being in their company whether it's out doing things together or just sitting at home. I want a best friend, a partner, not just a lover.”

Connor furrowed his brows again. “But having a significant other who is a best friend and also a lover is not friends with benefits?”

“No, it's not. The benefits part is using each other for physical gratification. There is no romantic love between you. No emotional closeness, no fidelity. Sometimes, you're not even really friends. It's just empty... fucking.”

Connor took some time to process that.

“What do you want in a relationship, Connor?” (Name) asked. In a slightly quieter voice she added, “What exactly do you want from this relationship?”

“It is still the same as before,” Connor replied with simple pragmatism. “I want you to fall in love with me.”

Now, it was (Name) who looked confused and a little hesitant. It had been several months and Connor's answer had never wavered. He had been upfront with her about his intentions from the start. Why did it confuse her now?

When he asked her about it, she gave a sad half-smile. “We've spent all this time together. I feel like we've grown closer, but nothing's changed. You haven't changed.”

“Of course not. My goals concerning you are still the same.”

Her expression looked almost hurt, thought she strangely still smiled. “Connor, you say you want me to love you but... you're not in love with me.”

Connor pulled back, sitting up straight and blinking rapidly at the unexpected accusation. His mouth moved to protest, trying to find the words. “But... I really like you.”

“I really like you, too, Connor. But it's not the same as being in love.”

Connor couldn't help but look distressed. He felt like he was falling into a deep hole with no purchase. How did everything crumble so fast? “Are you saying you'll never fall in love with me?”

“I was very open to it. I was beginning to. I thought we could fall in love together. But... I haven't really felt like that was what was happening. I know you've been wanting me to love you, and I've wanted to love you, but I don't feel anything back. I just feel you wanting, I don't feel you giving anything.”

Connor's LED went to yellow in his confusion.

“I'm sorry, I know I'm not explaining myself well. I'm honestly not that great at love myself.” She shivered and stood. “It's getting cold. I'm gonna grab a blanket.” She stood and padded toward the couch to grab a comforter while Connor quietly ruminated, keeping his back to her. She paused to look at his silhouette, feeling bad. She didn't want to have this conversation, but it had been sitting in the back of her mind for a while.

She knew something was missing between them, but she didn't know how to put it into words. The last thing she wanted to do was put the blame on Connor, but maybe it was possible he didn't have the capacity to love her like she was looking for. Maybe they were only compatible as friends and nothing more.

With the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, dragging on the ground, she walked back toward the balcony door. Nearly there, she stepped on the dragging blanket and tripped forward. Limbs tangled in the blanket, she saw the horror that was coming. Oh, God! She was going to smash through the glass door face first.

Then, Connor was there. His body was in her way, back pressed against the glass as he caught her. Her fall was nothing more than a dull thud as her body was cushioned by his. (Name) froze against him, wide-eyed and hardly believing she was still whole.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked.

“Y-yeah,” she breathed out, her heart still racing. She huffed out a relieved laugh. “Nice catch.”

“As I said, I'll always keep you safe.”

(Name) closed her eyes, not moving from his embrace. In her heart she wanted this, wanted to rest against him with his arms around her. Being with him all these months had only increased that want. But her fear was that his embrace would be empty, robotic. That it would be as comforting as being hugged by a chunk of plastic. Maybe her fear had gotten in the way, too. Maybe she was the one not letting it happen because this embrace did not feel empty. She felt it deep down in a place no other man had ever touched.

“I know... I'm an android,” Connor said. He didn't release her and she felt the rumble of his voice reverberate in his chest. “Maybe I'm not able to love like a human can. But I care about you. I always want you to be safe and happy. I want to be the one who makes you happy, and the one who keeps you safe. It's that the start of love?

“Maybe I'm not so good at it now, but I'll learn. I'll get better at it for you. I--”

Her mouth pressed to his before either really knew what was happening. It was little more than lips against lips, unmoving until she pulled away. They looked at each other, still hanging in the limbo of trying to gauge their own emotional reactions. Maybe she shouldn't have done that. She wanted to but Connor hadn't reacted at all. Maybe he didn't like it.

“I'm sorry, Connor, I shouldn't have--”

He cupped her face, sweeping her up to kiss her hungrily. Until that moment, she didn't know androids could feel hunger. She felt his as he kissed her deeply, again and again. Like he couldn't get enough. His body rose up and she clung to him; firm and strong, but not just a machine. The life and the passion in him was real as he settled both of them to the floor, Connor on top, his mouth still taking charge of her very breath. Her world was spinning, her head light like a cloud, delirious, warm, relieved.

When she was fighting his mouth for breath, he pulled away to let her get some air and hovered above her on his elbows.

“Connor,” she breathed.

He hummed back in reply, a bit drunk from the euphoria himself. “I like how you said my name just then.”

She pulled him down, brushing their noses together. “I like saying your name,” she whispered.

He kissed her again and she readily kissed him back, pulling him closer. Connor settled more weight on top of her. Now it wasn't just their lips learning each other, their bodies shifted in the want for closeness and friction.

(Name) moved against him a certain way and then made a surprised noise against his mouth, causing Connor to pause.

“Are you alright?” Connor asked when she tensed. “Did I hurt you?” He would have moved away, but her arms were still around him, if somewhat looser than before.

“Oh, no! You didn't hurt me at all!” she insisted. “I was just surprised. I didn't realize... I'm sorry, this is weird, but I'm just going to say it. I didn't know you were a model that was anatomically correct.”

Connor's brows raised up curiously. “You did not think I was equipped with male genitalia? But you considered being with me anyway?”

She shrugged weakly beneath him. “I like you as you are. If you and I got to that point, I figured we'd make it work somehow.”

“Sexual satisfaction is important to humans,” he said bluntly.

She smiled. “You're important to me.”

Connor felt it, a thud in his chest that stirred him. Was this what falling in love was? Was this what he had been missing before?”

“Do you want to see it?”

Startled, her jaw dropped and she let out an offended noise. “Connor!”

“I didn't mean in a crude or sexual manner. This is an honest offer. You are always so interested in anything involving androids. I thought it might be something you were curious about.”

Despite the chill, (Name's) face was red hot. He wasn't wrong. Though she would never be caught dead in a place like the Eden Club, she had always been curious about the aspects of having an android lover. Very curious, if she was fully honest with herself.

“That's... okay,” she said, trying to not look as embarrassed as she felt. God, she wanted to avoid his gaze but he still lay on top of her, staring right at her. She had to admit she liked having him on top of her. “Some things people are allowed to keep private.”

“I honestly don't mind. The offer is always open.”

She barked out a laugh, her face still flushed and she was glad for the darkness to help hide it. “I'll keep that in mind.”

Silence grew between them, neither of them moving. Him and her laying together in the dark, the world looking like it was ending right outside. Connor did not try to kiss her again, but he had settled into running the bridge of his nose along her jaw. This evolved into the two of them nuzzling each others faces like a pair of cats. The skin-on-skin contact felt good, intimate. (Name) liked his touch, feeling his skin against hers. It wasn't what she thought it would be. It felt natural, soothing and comfortable.

He opened his eyes when she brushed some stray strands from his forehead. “It's getting colder. With the power out, I'm going to have to dig out every blanket I have before going to bed.”

Connor gave her a cute smile, his temple illuminated by the contented azure of his LED. “May I offer my services for tonight? I can generate a comfortable amount of body heat if you would like to put me under all those blankets with yourself.”

She grinned and kissed his nose. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #connor x reader #dbh fanfiction

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lestered · 5 years

Text

lost in your paradise

m, 9.3k

It’s been six years of surreal friendship, and an even surrealer crush. Six years of traveling all around the world, and wanting to kiss him in every place.

Six years of chickening out every time.

Dan has no reason to believe that Japan will be any different, but anything can happen when you get lost under the Tokyo lights.

read on ao3 or under the cut

written for @starboydjh for @phanfictionevents spring fic exchange! thank you Hadley for giving me such an amazing prompt to work with!

many thanks as well to my beta, irl bff @b-j-e who definitely isn’t reading this because he hasn’t used his tumblr in five years and has probably had enough of this fic by now, but still deserves an mvp award.

He wants to kiss him in Manchester.

60 meters up in the sky, gazing out over Phil’s favorite city in the world. The one he’d insisted that Dan come to visit so that he could really meet his new best friend.

Well... he'd phrased it that way at least, but Dan could’ve sworn that the words ‘best friend’ were laced with something else. Something in Phil’s eyes, in his tone of voice, in the way Dan could see his eyes moving over the screen, flickering from his lips to his bare chest and back into his eyes - that said they were best friends, no doubt, but maybe they could be more. That maybe Phil wants more. Wants what Dan had suspected himself of wanting since before they’d even spoken, and what had been confirmed on that train platform when he’d finally locked onto that ocean-blue gaze in person and been tugged so easily into a warm, tight embrace that had left him flushed and happy and still, hours later, charged with an overwhelming urge to pull Phil in close again, to put his hands on him and kiss that adorable, lopsided smile off his lips. To put it all on the line even though it’s a bit terrifying.

Not even a bit terrifying, actually. Just… regular terrifying. So he sits close and lets their thighs press together and their hands and elbows brush and meets each of Phil’s curious, unreadable glances with something just as unreadable, just hoping Phil picks up on his wanting and leans in and does what he doesn’t have the courage to do himself. But whether Phil’s just as nervous and unsure as Dan, or because he genuinely doesn’t want to, his wish goes unfulfilled.

He doesn’t kiss him on the Manchester eye. He also doesn’t kiss him that night in his bed, or all the other times in Rawtenstall, or in Phil’s crappy first apartment or the first that they share. He doesn’t kiss him all the times they find themselves leaning in too close, holding each other’s gaze for too long, letting little offhand but suggestive comments drift out and float almost antagonizingly in the space between them.

He wanted to kiss him in Manchester.

But he didn’t.

***

Their hotel room in Japan is unreal. From the plush beds to the high-tech toilet to the mirror-TV, it’s by far the nicest room they’ve ever stayed in. It’s cool - too cool for them, frankly, but no one really needs to know that. Dan’s definitely not one to complain.

Personally, he’s a particularly big fan of their jacuzzi tub. It’s big enough to fit his giant noodle body, for one - a luxury that most tubs don’t afford him. And for another thing, he’s found that there’s nothing quite like a nice hot soak after a full day of walking around, exploring, because they can’t miss a thing, because Tokyo’s been their dream destination for years and who knows if they’ll ever get to come back.

It’s a lot of activity.

And it’s definitely worth it; it’s just also a bit strenuous for someone who spends most of his time slumped in front of a computer screen. Some warm bubbles go a long way when it’s time to unwind from it.

He may have stayed in a bit too long tonight, judging by the pruny state of his fingers and toes, but he can’t bring himself to care as he dries off, taking some extra time to towel the wetness out of his hair. The sooner it dries, the sooner he can straighten it.

A puff of steam follows him when he steps out into the bedroom a moment later in just his t-shirt and boxers, causing an unintentionally dramatic scene.

He half-expects Phil to notice and tease him for it. However, Phil’s laid out on his bed, still in the exact position he’d fallen into upon arriving back to their room - flat on his back, fully starfished save for the phone that he’s now holding to his ear.

“No, come on, don’t apologize. Tell him we hope he feels better soon, yeah?”

Dan gives him a curious glance as he flops forward onto his own bed, stretching out on his stomach and sliding his arms around to hug the pillow that he’s smushed into his cheek.

“Right, good luck. And seriously, thanks for everything you guys’ve done for us here, alright? Yeah… talk to you later.”

Phil blows out a breath, sets his phone down and rolls over to face Dan in a position that mimics his own.

“That was Mimei.” He tells him, though Dan figured as much. “They can’t come out tonight, apparently Duncan’s a bit under the weather and she’d feel bad leaving him alone. I guess he doesn't handle being poorly too well.”

Dan feels the corners of his mouth turn down in a small, disappointed frown. “Oh." He shifts to adjust the positioning of the pillow under his head. "That sucks, I wanted to go out one more time. I guess we could get room service, though, and now I won’t have to straighten my hair…”

“What are talking about?” Phil interrupts him before he can finish his thought. “We can still go out.”

Oh, god. Six years later, his heart is still full to bursting with love for his best friend, but he can’t deny that Phil has a tendency to lack crucial self awareness in situations like these. Phil must sense the apprehension on his part, because he quickly follows it up:

"It's our last night, we can't not go out!"

“Phil.” He rolls his eyes. “We can’t go out alone at night. We don't know where we're going, we can’t read the signs... we can’t use data here, so Maps is out of the question if we get lost which, since you have the navigational proficiency of a blind goose with vertigo…”

Phil’s spare pillow lands against his face with a soft thud before Dan can finish whatever hyperbolic insult he was ready to make up on the fly.

He knows what comes next: the pillow falls away and he’s met with big, blue puppy dog eyes and a pout. Phil doesn’t even need to say anything, and he knows it. Pure evil, he is.

(Not really. Pure evil would be if he knew what those eyes really do to Dan, if he knew how desperately Dan wants to make them light up and kiss the pout off his lips. But he doesn’t know. As it stands, Phil just believes himself to be an exceptionally talented beggar.)

“Fuck off.” He groans, and turns his face fully into the pillow before he gets too caught up. “Fine, we’ll go out if you'll stop being an insufferable spoon.”

The giggle he gets in return lets Dan know that Phil’s very pleased with himself, but he doesn’t need to look up to see his smile. He’s got it memorized already.

***

He wants to kiss him in Wokingham.

It’s not the right time, though.

Wokingham isn’t what he wants or who he wants to be; It's everything he wants to leave behind. It's loneliness and confusion and self-doubt - really, it's everything that Phil’s not.

Phil is warmth and support and a genuine hope that maybe he won’t have to define himself by the first eighteen mediocre years of his life. Phil is someone who actually believes in him in a way that he hasn’t believed in himself for years.

Phil’s the future he wants. Their first kiss ought to be in some place that represents his hope for that future, not the place he’s so eager to ditch.

Right.

That’s what he tells himself. Really, it's a convoluted excuse to cover the fact that he’s just scared shitless. Again.

Having Phil with him in Wokingham is strange. He’s been happy letting these two parts of his life exist completely separate from each other so far. Of course, Phil makes him feel safe, but he’d be lying if he said that having him in his hometown doesn’t make him feel… exposed. Vulnerable. As if Phil would arrive here and immediately sniff out all of Dan’s yet-unspoken baggage - that uneasy balance between stupid teen angst and real, confusing, lonely, amorphous sadness that hangs so heavy in the air of his teenage bedroom that it’s almost tangible to him.

He thinks, at first, that Phil's not picked up on it. Phil’s just happy to see him, always so happy to see him. Inexplicably so, in Dan’s opinion, no matter how many times Phil tries to tell him otherwise.

He doesn’t realize until late that night, in bed, that Phil’s more perceptive than he’d given him credit for.

“Thanks for letting me come here, Dan.” His voice is laced with understanding when he whispers into the dark, tugging him into his chest and sending Dan's heart into overdrive. It’d be so easy to do it now, to tilt his head up, to lean in just a bit, to brush his lips against Phil’s.

But he's frozen in place because a kiss could lose him this embrace if Phil doesn’t kiss him back. And he realizes he’s not ready to take that risk.

Will he ever be?

“You’re welcome.” He whispers instead, letting his eyes fall shut and releasing the breath he’d been holding. “I’m glad you’re here, Phil.”

He wanted to kiss him in Wokingham.

But he didn’t.

***

“Remember you want the tuna roll to end up in your mouth, and not on the back of some poor unsuspecting lady’s neck across the room.”

Phil kicks his shin under the table, but his blush and bitten-back smile betray any malice he might’ve been attempting.

“I hate you.” He mumbles. “You can't just let me live that down?”

“Do you even know me?” Dan crumples his straw wrapper into a tiny ball and flicks it across the table. It lands in Phil's lap and his mind may or may not be playing tricks on him when he thinks he sees a hint of fondness in the eyeroll that follows. “Of course not.”

They’re sat at the sushi restaurant from a few nights ago. It was their safest bet - the majority of the waitstaff speak at least some English and they know enough rudimentary Japanese food-words to pick things off menu. The overlap is enough for them to order their rolls and an extra side of spicy mayo, which suits them just fine.

Last time they sat at the bar, this time they're tucked into a table-for-two in the back corner. It's clearly not meant for two men as tall as them. They keep accidentally stepping on each other's toes.

(Maybe not always accidentally on Dan's part. Lamely, he knows that it's probably the closest he'll ever get to a game of footsie.)

“Do I get to tell the internet about how you cried at the Ghibli museum, then?” Phil asks, and this time there's definitely a fond glimmer behind his teasing expression.

That earns Phil his own kick to the shin. “Go ahead. They won’t judge me for it, they’ll judge you for being the soulless robot who didn’t cry.”

The look of shocked indignation on Phil's face before he schools his features into a cooler, more neutral expression is incredibly precious.

“Whatever." He retorts. "I was emotional too, I just held it together so I could be there to support you.”

The joking lilt of Phil’s voice unfortunately doesn't tame the swooping sensation he feels by default in the pit of his stomach every time Phil says something that makes him wonder if there's any truth, any genuine feeling behind the bants.

He decides that he's feeling a little too sober for this.

***

He wants to kiss him in Blackpool.

It's a getaway, not quite the way they’d planned it, but it can still be… romantic. Maybe. If he manages to actually do something right.

It’s just the two of them and that’s gotta to mean something. Do strictly platonic friends go on holiday for no other reason than wanting to enjoy each other’s company in a more private setting?

Maybe, but do they? Dan can't shake off the feeling that this trip means something more. He’s sure he senses it in the way Phil’s fingers still for a moment on the trackpad on his laptop, the cursor on the screen hovering between the one- or two-bed options on the hotel website.

The brief silence is excruciating, but no more so than the mouse click when Phil ends up selecting the room with two beds.

He supposes that doesn't necessarily mean anything. It's just that neither of them spoke up.

Blackpool turns out to be a shithole, though, so is it the right place?

Probably not, but… it'd be far less shitty if Dan could muster up the courage one goddamn night to crawl into Phil’s bed with him, instead of his own.

He actually almost does, stumbling into their room giddy and wine-drunk after a too-expensive dinner on the last night, trusting Phil to support about half his weight with the arm slung around his waist, and his arm around Phil’s shoulders.

“Fucking hell, finally.” He doesn't bother untangling them before falling backwards onto the bed, landing Phil on top of him with a surprised 'oof.'

“Shit, sorry mate.” He manages with an indelicate snort as Phil lifts himself onto his forearms. Then suddenly, Dan isn’t sorry at all - not with Phil on top of him, face flushed from the alcohol, eyes half-lidded and searching.

He really, really isn’t sorry.

“S’ok.” Phil mumbles in reply. He stays hovering over him, unmoving, his voice barely above a whisper and Dan swears he sees those pretty eyes flicker down to his lips.

If there’s ever been a go-ahead to kiss him, kiss him right fucking now, this would have to be it.

He just needs to collect himself first. Just a few deep breaths.

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale— oh.

Oh no.

“Uh, Phil. I need you to get off me now.”

All he registers is a glimpse of the confusion in Phil’s expression when he rolls off of him, only for Dan to bolt straight to the bathroom. He makes it to the toilet just in time to collapse onto his knees and empty the entire contents of his stomach.

Perhaps he’d overdone it on the liquid courage.

“...Dan?” He hears Phil’s voice drifting in from the bedroom. “You alright? Can I get you anything?”

He sounds concerned, and understandably not the least bit turned on. Nice.

“Totally fine.” He rasps in reply, and groans internally over how his voice echoes pathetically out of the toilet bowl while he rests his forehead on the cool porcelain rim.

They go to sleep in separate beds that night.

He wanted to kiss him in Blackpool.

But he didn’t.

***

Phil, in an unprecedented display of chopstick dexterity, manages to actually finish his sushi without accidentally assaulting anyone. Dan is secretly a little bit disappointed. Dumbass moments like those become fond memories and inside jokes and another reinforcement to a bond so unique that nobody ever could manage to steal it away from him.

He'll make a memory anyway, a mental snapshot. Phil looks handsome and the lights are low and the music is soft and the food is good.

Oh, and the scorpion bowl in the middle of their table is very strong, and should definitely be shared by more than two people. But they're not letting that stop them.

In fact, Dan's been sipping a steady stream out of his straw for god knows how long.

“Christ, Dan, you're not eighteen anymore.” Phil nudges Dan’s foot with his own under the table. "Slow down if you don't wanna be hungover on the plane tomorrow. Plus you keep slurping."

“I’ll slurp your mum.” He replies without thinking, still holding the straw in between his teeth. He registers what he's actually said a second too late, just a moment after Phil looks at him with a horrified expression and he sputters before dropping his head down into his hands.

“No, no. I take it back. I didn’t say that, I did not say that.” He tries to insist, but he’s wheezing and his shoulders are shaking with laughter and he can’t take it back. Phil's joined in on the laughter and he's definitely not gonna let him take it back. “Fuck.” He sighs out when he catches his breath. “Don’t tell Kath.”

Phil’s cheeks are flushed a dark, rosy pink by the time he regains his composure and takes a long sip out of their shared drink again.

“As if I’d ever repeat one of your terrible jokes to her. She’d be scarred for life.”

Dan almost points out that Phil’s mum watches their videos, and he’s said worse on camera, but he stops himself.

Because one day of vlogging aside, this vacation has been a welcome escape, a break from the constant thought loop of youtube, youtube, fans, fans, radio, radio, youtube youtube youtube that refuses to leave them alone back in England.

His life could be a lot worse. But that doesn't change the fact that they're here right now in a whole new world where they've not been recognized, not even once, and he's breathing so easy, like a gigantic weight he hadn't even registered before has been lifted off his chest.

It’s amazing. He looks across the table at Phil. He can do that here, where they won't run into anyone, where it's unlikely that anyone's secretly watching - look at Phil for as long as he wants, not bothering to worry about schooling his features into something that definitively does not resemble heart-eyes. Phil catches his eye and stares back at him with an intent, albeit slightly unfocused gaze. He's not used to Phil looking at him this way, but his fuzzy brain can't bring itself to decipher what might be going on in Phil's head.

Whatever it might is, his best-friend-intuition tells him he likes it.

“Hey, Phil.” He says after a final decisive drink, still focused on those sparkling eyes. “Let’s go exploring.”

***

He wants to kiss him in Portugal.

It's what Blackpool was supposed to be after all, vacation-wise.

It can be what Blackpool was supposed to be kiss-wise, too, if he doesn’t majorly fuck up this time.

It’s much prettier here than Blackpool. Much prettier than anywhere they’ve been, really.

Phil especially looks pretty here, even with his pale skin slathered in SPF-one million. He’s pretty at the Zoomarine, where his eyes gleam with excitement and he makes friends with a large turtle. He’s pretty with his face flushed and his smile wide and uninhibited after a bit of sangria, when he tells him his skin looks nice under the blue sun.

He’s so very pretty on the coastline, with his sunglasses a bit crooked and his face turned up towards the sun and his hair tousled from the salty wind, sitting right next to him on the warm rocky ground.

His chest hurts when he looks at Phil like this. He’s scared sometimes of how badly he wants him.

Phil shifts closer to him, and their hands, outstretched behind them, overlap.

...Interesting. Is that more or less scary? He feels hot all of a sudden and he suspects it's from more than just the sun.

But they stay like that, and his heart races, and he has no idea what to do because Phil’s acting like they’re doing nothing unusual even though it’s been a while since they’ve touched like this.

His stupid inner romantic has never fully ruled out the possibility that maybe Phil wants him too.

So is this a move? Is he going to make another? If he does then that’s a lot of pressure off of Dan, for sure.

He waits.

He waits for a long time.

And he probably doesn’t have a right to feel disappointed when nothing happens, but he does anyway.

He wanted to kiss him in Portugal.

But he didn’t.

***

Stepping out into the fresh air sobers him up a little bit. Not a lot, but enough that he and Phil don’t need to lean on each other when they walk. That’s good, he doesn’t feel like looking sloppy even though Phil’s seen him at his sloppiest. And wherever they’re about to go, he wants to remember it.

They don’t talk about where they’re going, but head off at the exact same time in the exact same random direction. They walk in silence for a bit and Dan doesn’t mind. Silence is quite alright, especially if he’s sharing it with Phil. His mind is foggy and the Tokyo streets are loud enough and Phil’s right there, next to him like always. That’s enough for him.

He’s actually startled when Phil finally speaks up. “I kind of can’t believe we did this.”

Dan looks over at him and Phil’s gaze is a little distant, his voice a little dreamy, and his lips quirked into a bit of a smile. Dan’s heart swells.

“Came here, you mean?” His voice is barely above a soft murmur, but he knows Phil can hear him anyway. They find a break in traffic and cross the road towards some building he doesn’t recognize with some neon pink sign in the front that he can’t read. “I know. Kinda doesn’t feel real.”

He thinks back over six years, how many times they talked about Japan. Too many to count, and never in concrete terms, always some vague, faraway goal.

He thinks of the times they’d sit a little too close on the couch and watch anime over breakfast, all the skype calls in the very beginning when they’d spend ages rambling to each other about Pokemon and My Neighbor Totoro. He thinks of standing at their breakfast bar in Manchester and mixing up Popin Cookin sweets, of losing their shit over Bishi Bashi special.

When he glances over to his side, he sees Phil looking right back at him. Dan can’t quite decipher his expression again, and he’s not sure it’s from the alcohol this time. The look on Phil's face quite resembles the one he'd had after spontaneously booking their tickets and following the initial excitement, something softer, but contemplative too. He likes that look. He likes having it aimed at him. He’s pretty sure his buzz intensifies for a second.

“It’s real.” Phil breathes, locking eyes with him and then looking away a little sooner than Dan wants him to. “Definitely real.”

***

He wants to kiss him in Jamaica.

He thought Portugal was pretty, but Jamaica is on a whole new level. And, as with anything else amazing that’s happened to him as of late, Phil is right there with him.

It feels kind of like a dream, if he’s being honest - that anyone would consider him important or influential enough to be on this trip.

The only reason he knows for sure that it’s not a dream is his hobbit hair. In a dream, he’d have it perfectly straightened and under control. But with the water activities and humidity here, any effort he puts in to taming his curls is entirely in vain.

Phil ruffles his hair and tells him his curls are cute. He cares a lot less after that.

What he does care about is filming and jumping off cliffs and tubing and sunset swims where Phil photographs him without his knowledge.

“What?” Phil comments when Dan whines to him about it. “It’s a cool photo. It’s artsy. You look nice.”

He scoffs at that. “It’s just my silhouette.”

“Well, it’s a good one.”

Everything around them is shades of pink and orange and gold. Warm and beautiful. Especially the golden light, bringing out the specks of yellow in Phil’s kaleidoscope eyes. Looking into them, he feels a distinct tugging somewhere in the pit of his stomach, and drifts over to Phil almost mindlessly. Phil smiles when he’s close enough.

“You have so many new freckles.” He murmurs, and taps him lightly on the tip of his nose.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. They make me look like a fucking eight-year-old.”

It’s the least sexy reply he could’ve given and he mentally scolds himself for it, but Phil doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Shut up, they suit you.” Is all he says in reply and Dan’s lucky that there’s not enough light for Phil to see the blush spreading across his cheeks.

He doesn’t even need to make an effort to get any closer to Phil; the current does all the work for them until their knees touch.

He’s close to leaning in. More than anything, he wants to close the fucking gap.

Just his luck, though, Phil glances up just then and sighs. “Crap, it’s getting dark. We should go back, don’t wanna be late for dinner.”

He can’t find it in himself to muster enough courage after that.

He wanted to kiss him in Jamaica.

But he didn’t.

***

The place with the neon pink sign that they can’t read is some kind of karaoke bar, they realize once they’ve crossed the street and lean up against the wall for a breather and immediately hear the distinct beginning of Get Low by Lil John and two, mildy-drunk sounding voices belting along into microphones.

“Oh my God.” Phil’s eyes are wide. “Do you think they know what this song means? Like, what they’re actually saying?”

Dan holds up a finger and they go quiet.

To the windowwwwww (to the windowwwww)

To the wall (to the wall)

Til the sweat drop down my balls

Til all these bitches crawl

“Definitely not.” Dan snorts, and Phil rests his head back against the wall to breathe out a disbelieving laugh as well.

“I mean… I guess it’s not hurting anyone.” Phil shrugs. “We sing anime theme songs all the time and we have no clue what they mean. For all we know they could be incredibly profane.”

“Yes, Phil. I’m sure the Attack on Titan theme tune is incredibly profane. Come on, you spork.” He pushes off the wall and walks off a few feet down the sidewalk, only to realize that Phil’s not following him.

“Uh, Phil?” He turns around, eyebrow raised when he sees Phil still standing against the wall. “Don’t you wanna go find something to do?”

Phil hesitates, seeming to ponder something for a moment before breaking out into a smile. He pushes off the wall and takes a few steps backwards towards the door to the bar, his eyes just the slightest bit challenging.

“I think we just did.”

***

He wants to kiss him in Italy.

Chris and PJ aren’t stupid. They nudge him, shoot him looks, strategically leave him and Phil alone multiple times a day with fully conspicuous parting winks.

And he won't do it. If he’s going to kiss Phil (which, admittedly, is feeling like more and more of a lost cause), it’s going to be on his terms. It’s going to be when he feels it’s right, not when their well-meaning but idiotic friends decide.

It actually does feel right at one point, when Phil’s chasing him in a tipsy, spontaneous game of tag while they’re alone. Phil catches him and he wants to spin around right then, crash their mouths together, let Phil know that he’s got him in more ways than one. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or adrenaline, or maybe he’s just damn fed up with not having Phil’s lips on his.

Probably a combination, to be honest. But mostly that last thing.

He spins and just like that, PJ and Chris come right up behind them.

Some God that he doesn’t believe in really wanted to fuck with him tonight.

They seem to realize that they’ve come upon something they shouldn’t have, but Phil catches sight of them too, and then the moment’s gone.

He wanted to kiss him in Italy.

But he didn’t.

***

Phil must be drunker than Dan previously thought, because the Phil Lester that he prides himself on knowing extremely well does not just get the spontaneous urge to saunter into a karaoke bar. Yet that’s exactly what he does, and Dan kind of has no choice except to follow him.

The air inside is thick and hot and noisy, with a couple fans whirring on either side of the bar and a floor setup of basic tables and chairs, some mismatched overstuffed armchairs against the far wall, and most importantly a small stage (more like a platform, really) all the way up at the front, complete with a karaoke setup of two mics and a screen that flashes song lyrics in bright, loud colors. Phil leads them to the only empty armchair at the edge of the room, conveniently wide enough for the two of them to squeeze into.

And Dan has to admit it’s pretty cool. The bar may be hot and crowded and loud but it’s entertaining. They hear some regular, innocent songs. They’re quite nice. But they also hear uncensored renditions of Pony by Ginuwine, The Real Slim Shady by Eminem, and a personal favorite of theirs, My Neck, My Back. They contain their laughter for the most part, meaning a lot of the time they’re red faced and shaking. The laughter gets harder to contain when they’re sent a free drink each from a couple older ladies at the bar.

They don’t really need to loosen up more than they already are, but they drink them anyway.

Of course, the best part of the whole thing is being pressed up so close to Phil. He’s warm and smells nice and Dan would very much like to kiss his rosy cheek, but he’s not quite uninhibited enough for that.

“Right, my ass is falling asleep, we can probably get walking around again.” Phil says when he stands up a while later with a stretch and a yawn. Dan follows, and just then the current song ends and the next karaoke slot opens up.

A seed of an idea plants itself in Dan’s mind, and he flashes Phil the same challenging look that Phil had aimed at him earlier. “Or, maybe not just yet.” He grins and pulls a shocked, protesting Phil up on stage. He’d be painfully too awkward to do this sober, but his head is swimming a bit, so he’s alright.

Phil is still looking incredibly alarmed as Dan sorts through the song selection, and it doesn’t take long for him to find the perfect one. He hits play and Phil pales when it starts up. Dan merely gives him a cheeky smirk and picks up his mic.

mmBaby can’t you see, I’m calling

A guy like you should wear a warning

It’s dangerous

I’m falling…

Your turn, he mouths to a Phil who now looks less terrified, more intrigued, and in a sudden show of bravery, grabs his own mic.

There’s no escape

I can’t wait

I need a hit

Baby, give me it

A loud cheer coming from somewhere around the bar puts what Dan could almost describe as a sultry smirk on Phil’s lips. Surely that’s not on purpose.

You’re dangerous

I’m loving it

It sends a rush of blood down in between his legs anyway. He breathes in deep, locks eyes with Phil and joins back in.

Too high, can’t come down

Losing my head, spinning round and round

...

...Do you feel me now?

***

He wants to kiss him in Orlando, Vegas, and LA.

He doesn’t even need an excuse as to why he won’t. More and more, they’ve been keeping some distance from each other. There’s pressure mounting. A rapidly growing fanbase, thousands and thousands of prying eyes.

Thousands and thousands of hopefuls wanting the things Phil said in that damn video to be true just as much as Dan does.

And just as much as he has to act like he doesn’t. The situation may not be that out of control, but he’s living in his own personal spiral of misery. Phil moves further and further out of his reach and it’s not supposed to bother him - hell, it’s partially his own fault.

He doesn’t know if it bothers Phil or not. They don’t talk about it. They still talk, all the time, about everything else. Just… not that. Never that.

He doesn’t hope at this point. Not the way he used to. He still wants, he still wants so bad that it hurts. All he can bring himself to hope for is that their on-camera life doesn’t bleed into their off-camera life more than it already has. He couldn’t handle it.

He wanted to kiss him in Orlando, Vegas and LA.

But he didn’t.

***

They’re giddy and nearly delirious when they stumble out of the bar later, courtesy of a couple more free drinks and the adrenaline from two encore performances after their smashing performance of Toxic.

“Fucking hell.” Dan laughs when they lean up against the outside wall again, right where they’d been leaning before. “That was…” He shakes his head and laughs again before gulping down as much fresh air as he can. “That was pretty fucking epic.”

“It was.” Phil agrees with the same type of laugh, wiping the sweat off of his brow. “We haven’t done karaoke in way too long.”

“We’ve never done karaoke, you dingus.” Dan snorts and bumps his shoulder weakly into Phil’s. “Rock Band doesn’t count as karaoke.”

Phil bumps his shoulder right back. “It does to me, you... you… rude person.”

Phil really isn’t good with the insults in his regular state. Drunk Phil’s insults, though, are simply laughable. “Ouch, Phil." He feigns hurt. "I might not ever recover from that absolute zinger.”

Without thinking, he grabs the shoulder of Phil’s jacket and starts to tug him along while Phil follows along with a weak retort of “your mum.”

He’s not sure how far they walk, arms and hands brushing and shoulders bumping and cheeks blushing, before they come upon a small, well-lit ice cream shop. Dan hadn’t even thought about ice cream, but now the light inside the shop may as well be a beacon of heaven.

They keep walking once they’ve got their cones, and Dan can’t hold back his satisfied groan when he takes his first lick and it instantly hits the spot. “God, why isn’t ice cream like, the most popular drunk food?” He asks around his next several licks. “It’s filling, it’s cold, it’s refreshing… it's literally perfect. We’ve been so blind.”

“It’s definitely better than those kebabs you used to slam with your uni mates after the club before stumbling back to my apartment.” Phil says with a shrug, occupied with his own cone.

Dan thinks that Phil’s teasing might be laced with a bit of fond nostalgia, but he could just be projecting. He has plenty of fond nostalgia over having an excuse to pass out in Phil’s bed, half on top of him a couple times a week. He also has some… slightly less fun memories of Phil nursing him back to health if he woke up particularly hungover.

“Hey, those were good times.” Dan defends, though he’s not referring to the kebabs or the clubbing or even his old uni mates. They walk further into the night, slurping their respective ice creams, and Dan lets himself wonder if Phil ever looks back on those times in the same way.

***

He wants to kiss him in London.

It’s not the first time they’ve been here. But it’s the most important.

It’s the start of something new. A huge step forward in their life, a big risk that they’re taking together, trusting each other to pull through.

There’s actual career advancement on the line. Actual grown-up shit. Actual jobs at the actual fucking BBC. They wouldn’t be here without each other, and he’s so happy. So grateful.

Now more than ever, he appreciates how much he's managed to change his life for the better since meeting Phil. How Phil's been there through everything, stuck by him at his absolute messiest. How he’s cared. So much. More than Dan’s ever imagined, more than he deserves.

They build a crappy wardrobe, and they're definitely a little too proud of themselves for it.

It’s right after that, lying side by side on the carpet next to the only piece of furniture that they currently own, that Dan feels that pull again. He feels it less these days, or maybe he just refuses to acknowledge it. It's hard for now, but he figures ignoring it will get easier at some point.

He’s just not there yet.

He wanted to kiss him in London.

But he didn’t.

***

“Stars are so pretty.” Phil sighs. “You know some of the stars we’re looking at right now are already dead? How crazy is that? They’re just… shiny little... beacons of death. So cute.”

“Oh my God, what are you even on about?” Dan mumbles as he rolls his head to the side. They’re both laying down on a bed of soft, slightly damp grass after happening on a quaint little park 15 or so minutes away from the ice cream shop. Conveniently so, as they were both just about dead on their feet.

They’ve been mostly silent, not talking, not touching. Dan gazes into the dark sky and listens to Phil’s deep, steady breathing. He feels like he’s floating, light and breezy in some space between his reality and a dream. It’s definitely not a bad way to be winding down. He checks the time on his phone. It’s nearly midnight.

“Hey Dan?” Phil’s voice pulls him back to the present after a pretty long while. “Have you got any idea where we are?”

Dan sighs softly in reply. “No clue,” he murmurs, resting a hand on his stomach and letting his eyes slide shut.

“Oh.”

Dan furrows his eyebrows when he hears a bit of an edge in Phil’s voice. It takes him a minute to catch on, but when he does, sits straight up so fast that his vision goes a little bit spinny.

“Oh.”

***

He wants to kiss him in Edinburgh, and New York too.

For no particular reason, except that he still wants to kiss him every-fucking-where they go. But he has plenty of reasons not to.

Firstly, they’re working. They have a professional relationship now. It doesn’t outweigh their friendship by any means, but it’s there. It’s important. They’re coworkers.

And simply put, you don’t kiss your coworker. Doesn’t matter that you’ve been in love with him for three years.

They make a living off of being friends and nothing more than that. Any failed attempt at love now wouldn’t just put their friendship on the line, but their livelihood too.

Their life is good. He refuses to be the one to fuck it all up.

Secondly, kissing Phil has been off the table for a while, anyway.

Along with self expression, along with anything else that might hint at him being not-straight with a gay-as-hell crush on his best friend.

Not just off the table, even. More like fully out of the question. More like aggressively denied.

Some fans love him for it, lots of them hate him for it. He hates himself for it.

He doesn't really care. He only hopes that Phil doesn’t hate him for it.

He wanted to kiss him in Edinburgh, and New York too.

But he didn’t.

***

Trying to get their bearings and retrace their steps back to wherever the hell they’d come from is by far the least fun part of their night. In fact, it’s not fun at all.

Phil worries his bottom lip between his teeth when they pace across the field in what might or might not be the direction they came from. Dan drags his hands over his sweaty scalp and tugs lightly at his hair that’s almost certainly started to curl around the edges.

“I’m sorry, Dan.” Phil sighs after a while, copying Dan and anxiously fixing his own hair. “I really shouldn’t have made us come out tonight, you were right about getting lost.”

Dan frowns when he notes that Phil seems, well… genuinely upset. This has kind of been the most fun he’s had in… a pretty long time. He doesn’t like the idea of Phil regretting it, much less feeling guilty.

“Hey, I went along with it.” He insists. “It’s my fault too. We just need to… fuck, I don’t know, but this is the direction we came from, right? I’m almost positive.”

Phil stops abruptly. “It’s not.” He says quietly after a moment’s pause. “But… oh my God, look.”

Dan follows his gaze and feels his eyes widen when he sees just what Phil’s looking at.

“Holy shit.” He whispers. “Are we gonna…?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

***

He wants to kiss him in Cyprus.

It’s hard for him not to think about it around Bryony and Wirrow, because with them around it feels like a full-on couples vacation.

Which would be the cringiest middle-class white people thing they’ve probably ever done, if that were actually the case. It’s not, though. It’s not a couples vacation; it’s a couple vacationing with their two lanky, emo, painfully single best mates.

Still, his heart flutters when he watches Phil sip down his colorful, sugary cocktail at dinner, the sunset casting angular shadows over his face. Feels nothing but adoration watching him flail in an unsuccessful attempt to swat away the gigantic, pesky Cypriot bugs.

And to no one’s surprise, especially his own, he does nothing to act on it. Doesn’t even entertain it as a real possibility anymore. It hurts. But it's just a pipe dream now.

He wanted to kiss him in Cyprus.

But he didn’t.

***

Cherry blossoms at night might be the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

Dan fancies himself a bit of a philosopher. Whether or not that notion actually holds any merit is a different story. Still, he’d like to think that all his hours spent facedown in his bed, at his desk, and mostly on the floor haven’t all been for nothing. He’d like to think that he’s formed some sort of coherent opinion on life - why he’s here, what he’s living for, what it all means in the grand scheme of things.

Really, he hasn’t. He waffles too much, he overthinks, and before he knows it he’s back to square one. But he’s learned a couple of things.

First and foremost, that sometimes it’s easier to think in metaphors, as long as they aren’t painfully contrived. Metaphors break things down into simpler terms, put things in perspective.

Cherry blossoms, he read somewhere at some point, are a metaphor. They bloom bright and beautiful when the time is right, and then two weeks later, all too soon, they fall to the ground. Much like existence, they are transient. Fragile. Gone possibly before you can find the time, the perspective, to marvel at them properly. But their fleeting nature doesn’t make them less beautiful when they’re in bloom. Far from it; they’re precious while they last.

Life, from the wholly optimistic perspective he rarely sees, can be the same.

But funnily enough, he’s not actually thinking of that right now.

He’s not actually thinking of much at all.

It’s hard to think, surrounded by so much light.

“I can’t believe we never knew about this.” Phil mumbles from beside him. He’s got his head turned up towards the tree that’s casting its soft pink glow down over and around them. “I totally would’ve forced you to get lost with me sooner.”

He’d almost forgotten not wanting to come out tonight in the first place. I’m glad you forced me out. He wants to say. I’m glad that I’m here with you. But when he turns to his side, Phil’s not standing next to him anymore.

Before he can even panic or call out to him, he spots Phil up ahead just a bit, ambling along among some of the trees that lead down to a nearby river. He’s looking up still, clearly caught up in the ethereal view - seeing the trees lit up, seemingly on their own in the dark, does look kind of like magic. They could be checkpoints in a fantasy rpg, Phil would probably say. Or something of the sort - Dan can always ask him later what’s going on in his mind. Something interesting and strange, he's sure, because Phil’s like that.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks up ahead himself, following Phil from a few feet behind. He has a tendency to lose Phil like this - on the street, in parks, in train stations, when he’s zoned out in his own private Phil world. It’s either endearing or incredibly frustrating, depending on the situation. Right now, it’s definitely endearing.

And it's always kind of funny to see how and when Phil comes back to reality, how he fumbles to regain his bearings and is always startled at himself for having spaced out so long.

Well, this time it’s actually not very long. Phil’s only been walking for about a minute before he trips, stumbling forward a few steps, then righting himself and turning his head to the side, confused. Dan knows it’s because Phil was assuming Dan to be next to him this entire time.

“Smooth.” He remarks with a snicker, coming up on Phil’s other side. “That’s what happens when you’re staring at the trees and not watching where you’re going.”

Phil turns with a startled jump before his face falls into a frown. “You were supposed to be next to me!” He complains. “You could’ve warned me I was about to trip on something.”

“You tripped over nothing.” Dan remarks when he looks down at the ground and sees nothing in the immediate vicinity that Phil could’ve tripped on. “Double smooth.”

“I hate you.” Phil grumbles. “And you’ve got petals in your hair.”

Dan’s cheeks heat up against his will when Phil reaches up and plucks them out. They heat up even more when he smooths his hair back into place for him. They’re on fire when Phil’s hand lingers for a second before he drops it back down to his side, resuming his walking with Dan actually next to him this time.

“The trees don’t even look real, right?” Phil asks, glancing up at them again, briefly and with much more caution this time. “I feel like some NPC from a fantasy game should be living inside.”

Dan has to bite back a grin. Okay, an NPC, not a checkpoint, but still. That psychic connection that their audience, friends and family accuse them of having really is uncanny at times.

“I could see that.”

They stop walking when they reach the edge of the river. There’s a bridge about 20 feet away from them that crosses over and leads to more cherry blossom trees on the other side, but they stay put, watching the lanterns that float along in the water.

When he looks at Phil, he sees the river reflected in his eyes and the warm pink light shining behind him and realizes that actually, the cherry blossoms are only the second prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He feels something click into place.

“Phil.” He sighs.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing now besides chasing whatever feeling, whatever tug, whatever heat, whatever rush of courage he’s got washing over him, cementing his resolve. Whether he likes it or not, he’s not backing out this time.

There’s a storm of emotion looming very close in the distance. It’ll remain unnamed and indiscernible until he reaches his outcome here. Right now it’s only adrenaline, his racing heart and sweaty palms tell him as much.

He swallows down the lump in his throat.

“Phil.” He repeats in a slightly steadier tone of voice. “I need to tell you something, I—”

He turns to Phil and immediately can’t finish his sentence. He’s cut off when Phil’s lips are suddenly pressed against his own.

He freezes, his mouth slack and his arms hanging dumbly at his sides while his brain races to catch up with what the fuck is actually happening. Phil’s kissing him. Phil’s right here, right in front of him, he’s cupping his face and kissing him.

The delayed realization hits him like a freight train. His eyes slip shut and suddenly he’s a live wire, hot and electric from his head down to the tips of his toes and his inner voice screams KISS HIM, KISS HIM, KISS HIM BACK YOU IDIOT.

Phil pulls away before he can and Dan can’t breathe. He can’t even bring himself to open his eyes until a few seconds later. He waits for his vision to refocus and then locks eyes with Phil.

Phil’s taken several steps back from him, eyes wide and his expression utterly terrified, color drained out of his cheeks and both hands clasped tightly over his mouth.

“Oh my god, Dan.” His voice is muffled by his hands but Dan can still hear how shaky it is. “I’m so sorry, I’m— I shouldn’t have— I don’t know what—”

Phil, he realizes, is apologizing. Apologizing for kissing him. He feels his heart plunge all the way down to his feet and back up because Phil’s apologizing for kissing him and that’s fully unacceptable. His body feels like it’s running on autopilot when he surges forward, tugging Phil’s hands away from his mouth and just barely registering the desperation in his eyes before he grabs his face and kisses him again.

He kisses him hard and Phil’s reaction speed is far better than Dan’s because he kisses him back immediately, heated and urgent and impassioned.

They break apart technically sooner than Dan would like, but as far as he’s concerned, they now have more pressing matters to attend to.

“Phil.” He rasps, knowing that his pupils are surely blown as big and dark as Phil’s when he looks into them. “We need to get back to the hotel. Right fucking now.”

In the end, it's a matter of swallowing their pride and stumbling through a half-coherent conversation with a very patient park-goer, who does eventually understand what the hell they're trying to say and points them in the right direction.

Actually getting back to the hotel is a blur.

What's not a blur is the fact that Phil's mouth is on his again before the door's even closed behind him. That’s when everything turns crystal clear. His whole body’s on fire when they fall in a mess of tangled limbs onto the bed, kicking off shoes and wrestling each other out of clothes.

He straddles Phil once they’re both down to just their pants, their bodies pressing tight together when he leans down and slots their mouths together again

It's not quite the tender, romantic confession that Dan had been planning on.

But it turns out that he’s just as fine with words and half-sentences spoken in haste when they’re panting hot and heavy against each other’s mouths.

Phil scratches his nails lightly down Dan’s back and Dan tells him he wants him, wants him so bad. Phil flips them over and presses him into the mattress and latches his mouth onto the warm, sensitive skin of Dan’s neck and murmurs between hot open mouthed kisses all over that he wants him too, so so much, that he’s wanted this forever, since before they even met.

Dan feels like he could cry.

But he settles instead for an obscene moan when Phil kisses him roughly and slots their legs together and grinds his hips down and Dan notices that he’s just as painfully hard as him.

“Phil, please.” He whispers into one more kiss before Phil latches onto his neck again. Phil really doesn’t hold back, nipping and sucking and biting and there’s no way that Dan’s coming out of this without any hickeys but that’s fine. He wants to be marked. He waits for Phil to pull back a bit before reaching down in between them, hastily pushing down both of their waistbands so that Phil’s hard length is rutting against his and his precum smears onto Dan’s belly.

He feels the blood thrumming hot and fast though his veins, up and down his entire body with every hammering heartbeat. All he registers is Phil’s hot breath against his neck and chest and the sound of skin on skin and the white hot sparks of pleasure that start in his groin and travel all the way down to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“I’m… close.” He moans through gritted teeth when he feels his balls drawing up tight, wrapping one leg around Phil’s waist for leverage and meeting each thrust with his own. His squeeze shut and he sees stars and muffles his moan against Phil’s shoulder when he spills hot and fast in between their bodies. Phil’s hips stutter and he follows right after, and Dan kisses him and clings to him while he rides it out and then promptly collapses on top of him.

For a while there are no words. Just slow, deep breaths and tiny kisses pressed into any available bit of salty skin before Phil finally finds the strength to roll off to the side and halfheartedly clean them both up with the corner of the bedsheet.

They lay side by side, flat on their backs, chests flushed and bodies shimmering with a thin gleam of sweat and then at the same time, turn their heads to face each other and burst into disbelieving laughter.

“Oh my God. Jesus fucking Christ.” Dan manages, tucking his body up against Phil’s side and laying his head on his shoulder. “We actually just did that.”

“We did.” Phil sighs, and reaches over to grab Dan’s hand resting on his chest and lace their fingers together. “We should, uh. Probably talk.”

“In a minute.” Dan whispers.

When they do get to talking, the words exchanged are balm to a burn that’s been scarring Dan’s soul for so many years, for far too long. They talk late into the night, confessions and jokes and apologies and every way of saying I love you without actually speaking the three words, until they both can’t keep their eyes open any more.

They fall asleep tangled up in each other. For the first time in six years, Dan finally rests easy.

“Don’t wanna go home.” Dan mumbles, stretched out on his belly with his face mushed into his pillow the next morning. The sun streaming in from between the curtains is an unwelcome presence as far as he’s concerned. Phil runs his fingers lightly up and down Dan’s spine, pauses to rub between his shoulderblades, and taps on his cheek until Dan turns his head and lets himself be kissed.

��I know.” Phil sighs, burrowing closer and nudging his nose against Dan’s. “Me neither.”

It seems unfair, really, that they’re being pushed right back into their everyday grind when they’ve only just made such an amazing, dream-come-true level discovery. They need to go back to England, go back to work. And going back to work means… well, hiding in the closet. The idea of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“Nothing has to change.” Phil tells him, as if he’s read Dan’s mind. “I want you back home just as much as I want you here. We’ll…” He sighs, because he surely knows they’re not in for an easy ride. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. I’ll do whatever if you will too.”

“I’ll do whatever.” Dan answers without hesitation, melting into the warm kiss that Phil presses against his mouth. “Definitely.”

Hours later, he falls asleep next to Phil on the plane, letting his head rest against his shoulder with a final, half-conscious thought that sends a burst of warmth blooming throughout his chest.

He wanted to kiss him in Japan.

So he did.

this fic was prompted/inspired by lost in japan by shawn mendes.

also if you don't know what nighttime cherry blossom viewing looks like, look here because it's very very pretty and you can imagine how it might inspire one to finally kiss their crush of 6 years (inspo for the trees in this fic drawn mainly from #3 on the list)

thanks for reading!

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #fics #*#*100

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makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 229: The Real Me

Previously on BnHA: Dabi fought a dude who could control ice. For like three pages. Then we cut to my boy Twice, who had located an unconscious Toga (who as you recall had her blood blown up a couple chapters back, so yeah) and was understandably freaking out about how to get her some help. To make a long and somewhat confusing story short, you know that long-haired guy who hacked Giran’s phone? Turns out he has the power to create human puppets or some shit, and he created a bunch of Twice duplicates and sent them to capture the real Twice (who you might also recall has some traumatic history involving clones of himself). Seems they want to use Twice’s quirk to create a backup clone of Re-Destro, just in case history repeats himself and he ends up kicking the bucket like his great-great granddad. Wouldn’t that be sad. Re-Destro getting murdered. Wouldn’t that just be a darn shame. Anyways so let’s see where this leads.

Today on BnHA: The Villain Flashback Arc continues with today’s installment featuring, you guessed it, more villain flashbacks! We learn more about our little buddy Twice who was apparently orphaned as a young teen and subsequently found himself alone in a cold and uncaring world. Honestly you guys, after reading this I’m amazed that he’s still as nice of a guy as he is. Anyway, so he used his quirk to clone himself because he was lonely, and the clones and him engaged in a petty crime spree or two, and then somehow or other it all led to the whole murderfest that fucked up his head so badly. Back in the present, a struggling Jin tries to escape and help Toga, so Skeptic orders his puppets to break Jin’s arms. They do so, but this has a curious side-effect that Skeptic may not have been expecting. Namely, that having that much damage dealt to him makes Twice realize that he definitely is not one of his clones, and is in fact the real deal. This appears to at least temporarily cure his split personality woes, and the chapter ends with him creating about a dozen duplicates to go fuck up the Liberation Army’s day. Hell yes.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, but aside from that there are no changes.)

hey guys, sorry I’ve been inactive all week; I’ve been sick and haven’t really had much energy. I still am sick, but I appear to have reached the stage of exhaustion where I’m all “eh, fuck it, yeah sure whatever” where it’s ironically easy to motivate myself to do stuff because I have no willpower to resist, lol

so anyway. we’re apparently not missing a beat, picking up right where we left off last week with Twice’s mask being pulled off by one of the gorilla puppets

wow and they’re just like. flinging him aside

DON’T FLING MY BOY NO!! AND GET AWAY FROM TOGA

AHHHH

shit, how creepy is that? are they cold because they’re just ~puppets~ and not actually real, living people? what a disturbing touch

now we’re cutting back to Skeptic, who’s giving the puppets orders and addressing them as various letters of the alphabet. how can he tell them the fuck apart

meanwhile Giran’s asking what they’re doing to his pal. ;_; Giran you continue to be the best

and Re-Destro’s forcibly directing his attention elsewhere, but he’s also answering his question, strangely enough

that’s a lot of detail to be giving the guy when you could have just smacked him and told him to shut up. these villains are so confusing

but I guess they’re just telling him all this to taunt him more, because now Skeptic is bragging that he learned about Jin’s psychological disorder from Giran’s client data

hey btw I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but fuck this guy so hard for taking advantage of Twice’s trauma and using it against him. what a shocker, the Meta Liberation Army of dickheads pulls another dickhead move. these guys are so classy

oh my fucking god you guys Giran is getting hotter with each fucking chapter though fffffffff

if you’d told me a month ago that this dude would be nipping at Aizawa and All Might’s heels for the title of BnHA’s most eligible bachelor I would have called you a liar and a thief, yet here we are. good lord

that said, I appreciate that he’s thinking about how hard it’ll be on poor Twice, but they also just said they’d kill Toga as well, so I imagine that part of it would be pretty hard on her too. just saying

SDLFKSDLFHK SPEAKING OF

FUCK ME YOU GUYS I ALMOST LEAPED TO MY FUCKING FEET, WHAT THE FUCK. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE GOING TO SNAP HER NECK. HOLY SHIT

SOMEONE BETTER SAVE HER OR I’M GOING TO FLY OUT TO JAPAN AND GIVE HORIKOSHI MY STUPID COLD. THAT’LL SHOW THAT BASTARD. HAVE SOME BRONCHITIS YOU PIECE OF SHIT

AND TWICE IS WATCHING ALL PANICKED AND SCREAMING THAT HE’S GOING TO KILL HER

AT FIRST I WAS CONFUSED AND WAS LIKE, DOES HE BLAME HIMSELF FOR GETTING HER IN THIS SITUATION? BUT THEN I REMEMBERED THE CLONES AND THAT YEAH IT’S LITERALLY HIM KILLING HER THOUGH OMGGGGG

AHHH HE’S SO CONFUSED THIS IS SO CONFUSING

I’M TOO SICK TO DEAL WITH TWICE’S EXISTENTIAL CRISIS YOU GUYS, IT’S REALLY FREAKING ME OUT, HELP. THE FUCKING PANELS ARE ALL WOBBLY-LINED AND THEY KEEP ZOOMING IN ON HIS FACE AND SHOWING HIM ALL BUG-EYED SCREAMING “WHO AM I” OVER AND OVER AGAIN OH GOD

OH SHIT!?!?

ACTUAL TWICE FLASHBACKS OH SHIT?! I was not expecting this oh snap. I am so into this

anyway, so he’s thinking -- with surprising coherence -- that because of his rough appearance, people were always afraid of him growing up

but also, what was that part about him not having a family? so he was an orphan then?? Horikoshi you are aware that I already love Twice and am emotionally attached to him, yes? but like if you want to hit me with even more feels and fuck me up some more then be my guest I suppose?

anyway so whoever he’s talking to here says Jin, who is apparently sixteen here, evidently hit some dude with his motorcycle by accident. oh shit

and baby!Jin says the guy jumped out in front of him and he was obeying the speed limit and everything

and the man he’s talking to seems vaguely sympathetic but says that regardless, it’s usually the victim who ends up winning these cases, and that Jin may end up with a criminal record. “but don’t let it get to you.” oh, sure. yeah, let’s just look on the bright side here

he says that no matter how many times you stumble in life, you can always start over

well shit is it any wonder this kid ended up going the villain route and making a bunch of clones of himself to live his best life? I mean jeez, he had absolutely no one on his side and was slapped with a criminal record when he was only sixteen. that shit is rough

oh fuck me and it just keeps getting worse

well that’s nice. so make that homeless with a criminal record, then. jesus christ he was still just a kid

so apparently his parents died in a villain attack when he was in middle school, and he had no relatives. I guess the state didn’t give a fuck either, damn

I find it extraordinarily easy to empathize with, actually! that’s one of the things that makes you such a great character!

so I guess he originally ended up making a clone of himself just because he was lonely. okay wow. not only does Twice continue to be the most likable villain in the series, he’s working his way up there as one of the most likable and relatably human characters, period

look at this shit! he’s just a guy who had a run of bad luck and tried his best to cope with it in whatever ways he could. there’s nothing villainous about him, he was just someone whom nobody wanted. he had his entire future stolen out from under him in the blink of an eye and had nowhere else to turn. he just wanted some friends for fuck’s sake

and so then he and his merry band committed a bunch of petty crimes. but they just needed some cash so they could live! like, all he wanted to do was just chill out and be happy. I got your back Twice. it’s not your fault

and then the flashback just kind of cuts to him tied to the chair in the aftermath of the clone hunger games. so I guess that’s all the backstory we’re getting as far as that goes. ngl I would have really liked to see just a bit more of the lead-up to that specific event. he’s such a nice guy that it’s a bit hard to picture him just suddenly going “RAWR I’M GONNA MURDER ALL Y’ALL.” but what I’m thinking is that all of the tragedy in his past contributed to him forming his violent alter ego personality, and that one of the clones must have just snapped one day and the rest is history

anyway so now we’re cutting to his first meeting with my new boyfriend Giran

ah okay, so he’s scared because if he actually is one of the clones then just a tiny bit of damage would be enough to finally do him in

btw Giran, possibly the one good thing Re-Destro and his buds did was getting rid of that scarf and sunglasses though bud. if you decide to change up your look after all of this, I’m not going to complain. there’s a reason I thought you were just some douchebag this whole time. obviously I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you, I realize that now of course

but seriously Giran who wears sunglasses at night indoors. I mean, idk, maybe you get migraines or something. but if not I’m just saying

regardless, questionable fashion choices aside, Giran is actually a super nice guy, a mensch if you will, and he is now casually changing Twice’s entire life in the span of a few sentences. awww

how the fuck were you planning on smoking that cigarette while wearing a paper bag over your face. ??

also, Giran on this page kinda reminds me of Sanji, if Sanji was, like, a beatnik about to throw down on open mic poetry night

anyway so that’s the end of our happy flashback, and now we’re back in the present with Twice resuming his freakout!

but in spite of his mental struggles, he’s shaking the puppet clones off and trying to dash toward Toga again omg!

up in his little tower Skeptic seems fairly surprised

in related news, fuck this guy so much. also he’s using one of his puppets as a chair, which is one of the creepiest touches Horikoshi has put in this manga to date. but also they mentioned last week that Skeptic makes the puppets out of any human-sized materials that happen to be lying around, so I kind of wonder if maybe this dude originally was a chair. the mysteries of BnHA

moving on though, yeah, Twice and Toga really do have a strong bond though, don’t they? their chemistry is as beautiful as it is strange

oh shit but they really did hit him though

FUCK YOU F AND G

FFFFF SON OF A BITCH

DLASFKJLKJ PLEASE DON’T YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH, I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO FUCKING DIE YOU ASSHOLE!!!

motherfucker! and we just established that he’s afraid that a broken bone will be enough to kill him if it turns out he really is a clone!

-- holy shit, but. on the other hand, if it doesn’t kill him though, that just might be enough to cure him of that particular fear once and for all. oh shit, unexpected plot twist

though in this particular situation it probably won’t make much of a difference how sane he is if he’s still got two broken arms though fuuuuuuuck

anyway... gotta click to the next page... even though I really don’t want to, sob

aaaaaaaand they’ve broken them. well shit. at least it wasn’t graphic. he’s just hunching forward and screaming and his arms are facing the wrong way, fuck

and now Skeptic is all “your legs are next,” and uh, can Twice actually hear him, though?? like, what? did I miss something here? is he piping his voice in through the shed’s convenient sound system or something?

anyway he’s telling Twice not to struggle anymore, and Twice is muttering to himself all darkly about how much that hurt

and apparently Toga’s regained consciousness now!!

wow Skeptic, okay sure, go ahead and keep talking about how you’re about to kill Toga in front of his eyes. just keep on digging yourself deeper. it’s like he doesn’t realize there’s only one page left in the chapter and things are just about reaching a tipping point and our heroes (?! I mean they are, though, for this arc at any rate) have had just about enough of his bullshit

lol I can’t take the tension omg

please do something badass please do something badass please d --

oh snap

Twiiiiiiice ;_; so it’s like I thought. they unexpectedly cured you of your identity crisis angst

anyway I guess this chapter is a longer one than usual because it’s page 15 now and we’re still going! so I will now resume my “please do something badass” chant. c’mon Twice. kick some assssssss

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

THIS TIME I REALLY DID LEAP OUT OF MY CHAIR OMG. BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

LMAO ARE ALL OF THEIR ARMS BROKEN TOO. FUCK IT, IT DOESN’T MATTER. DEKU HAS SPENT APPROXIMATELY HALF THE MANGA WITH BROKEN ARMS AND IT’S NEVER STOPPED HIM*

*forest angst aside. and anyways that all worked out in the end, so

“wounded heroes are the most dangerous.” well fuck. given that we’ve just seen an exhausted and delirious Shigaraki eradicate an entire wave of people, and a bloodied and wounded Toga straight up murder one of the Army’s leaders, I think it’s safe to say we can apply this statement to villains too. and I for one can’t wait how dangerous a wounded -- but now sane -- Twice can be. motherfucker how I am loving this glorious arc

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tinytony-snack · 6 years

Text

The perfect name

Tony was so not pleased. In fact, he was the least satisfied man in the entire universe, and he totally blamed Steve for that. His boyfriend knew that Tony was in a unique status and he needed more attention than anybody else, all his urges to be satisfied, and all his wishes to be granted. He tried to calm down, and to think only about the most positive effects of his situation. While looking at himself in the mirror, examining the freshly trimmed goatee, he caressed absently his big and round maternity belly. He didn’t think he was fat, because he wasn’t, and that was probably the first time he admitted it to himself. He wouldn’t have said it out loud of course, or he should have stopped whining. His Peanut was almost ready to be born, one another good point of being pregnant, together with a shinier and smoother skin, and the undivided attention of all the people who gathered around. Most of them used to think he had to be helped to do everything, since he was almost nine months pregnant. At the start of the pregnancy, Tony hated everyone who had dared to think he had become suddenly incapable to take care of himself... More than usual. Then, he experienced extreme tiredness, unexpected irritation and he found very satisfying looking at people do things for him: it was like he was in command again. After Pepper became CEO of his company, and since Steve was the Captain of the Avengers, all that remained to him were insubordinate bots and a sassy A.I. Sadly, on that particular day his beautiful look and the thought of his Peanut safe inside him weren’t enough to cheer him up. That morning, he decided to pick up again the project to find a name for the baby. They knew it was a boy. He could never have waited to know the sex, and even if Steve had been initially quite interested those gender reveal baby shower, Tony already knew the only curiosity that could ever have competed with his own belonged to his mate. He would have always called the baby ‘Peanut’ in his mind, but the little creature needed a real name. Tony tried for weeks to convince Steve that they were famous enough to choose an extravagant name, but eventually the baby wasn’t even the size of a peanut anymore. And he wasn’t really as much frivolous as he used to show, maybe just an 80% of it. Revising all the names he and Steve chose during the past months, he asked JARVIS to elaborate the data to examine different names that were still comparable to their favorite ones, and among all the choices he read ‘Godfrey’. That name was immediately wiped out from the hologram slide, but for some reason, it remained stuck in his mind. When he understood the cause, he had to take a nice long bath in order to keep calm. Godfrey vaguely sounded like coffee, the nectar of the gods – even though they didn’t have coffee on Asgard – that he wasn’t allowed to drink anymore. They said he would have gotten used to not drinking it anymore, but those people didn’t know that Tony’s body was made up for the 60% of that brown, hot, delicious beverage. People like Steve, and, well, Rhodey, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, JARVIS, that Omega girl at the reception of S.I… It surely was a long list, but only one of them had promised to take care of him in every way possible. And Steve made him swear off caffeine. The father of his baby, his life mate, his Alpha. Made. Him. Swear off. Tony finished to dress and stomped to the kitchen of the Tower’s common floor. He decided long time ago to use the common floor, not only because the rest of the Avengers gathered around there, but also because he had a valid excuse to walk. It didn’t matter that most of the time he had Steve carry him all the way down. Anyway, that particular morning he wanted to make everybody hear his unhappy, heavy steps. “Morning, sweet Omega,” Natasha greeted him, waving her cup of tea. Tony loved when she called him sweet Omega, it made him scrunch his nose and feeling a warm sensation in the chest. Nat had always been the coolest, after him, and if she had been less scary, taller, more muscular, blonde, and… Well, male, she would have been just his type. Anyway, that morning he didn’t feel sweet at all. So, he went straight behind his Alpha, he put both hands on the hips and he showed himself as angry and irremovable as possible. At least, that was what he thought he looked from the outside. If asked to the two Alphas in the room, they would have said that Tony looked like a tiny and pouty ball of frustration, with the cutest fluffy head. Steve turned around in that moment, with the biggest smile on his face, that it rapidly became a furrowed expression. “We need to talk,” Tony announced. “Everything’s okay?” Steve asked surprised, already looking down at his belly. “No Steve, everything’s not okay. And you know it,” He growled, waving both hands in the air. Not a single Alpha in his life had ever stopped him from growling, he wasn’t scared to deal with any kind of person. Steve’s hand was soon on his abdomen, and he was frowning. “Is the baby fine? Did anything happen while I was running? JARVIS didn’t tell me any-” He spoke quickly, already worrying so much. It wasn’t fair: Steve entered in his worried and very hot dad mode, which was still kind of new for Tony to refrain from instantly melting. It also meant that he could have been able to effortlessly obtain an extra dose of cuddles and a massage. He had to shake his head to keep his thoughts in order. “The baby’s fine,” He reassured, and Steve’s body relaxed. “But I’m not, Steve, I’m carrying around a pretty big responsibility here, my back is aching and you weren’t there when I woke up- I know that you need your morning routine as much as I need my lab’s hours, and your scent was still on the bed so I didn’t really feel alone or bad, but, uhm, but, my point is… I - I’m rabbling.” He sighed loudly. “I love to hear you ramble, Omega.” Steve offered, starting to gently pet his hair. Tony looked into his mate’s eyes, which were adoring and fantastic as always. Them alone were enough to made him feel loved and cared, the most important person in Steve’s world. And he was distracting again, but how could he not, when the Alpha’s big hands were one on his belly and one through his hair. His head had been his weakest spot for a long time, but it wasn’t the only significant anymore. “I want coffee, Steve,” He blurted, much less firm than he would have wanted. The fact was, he was trying really hard not to melt in the touch and purring out load. “I really need it, and I - uh, I - had JARVIS buy a new coffee machine earlier” He wanted to cover his mouth as soon as he spoke. He wasn’t supposed to tell that! He was supposed to stand up and fight for his rights! “You what?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. They looked each other in the eyes, then the Alpha sighed in disapproval and closed his eyes for few seconds. “Oh Tony, we discussed it so many times. You can’t have it, it ain’t healthy for the baby, and for you either” His words sounded tired, and maybe that was because the argument came up once a month, at least. But Tony didn’t want to focus on those pointless details. The Omega didn’t really like that ‘you can’t have it’, because if he needed something, he would obtain it, no ifs or buts. He glared at the Alpha with his chin up. “I can and I will, Rogers! You’ll see,” Tony threaten harshly. Then he moved to pick his favorite mug from the shelf, the one with Captain America’s shield on it that always made Steve smile, but the real Captain moved faster and stole it before Tony had the chance to catch it. “Omega, no,” Steve used his Alpha’s voice, the one that had made Tony’s legs tremble since the first time he heard it. “You can’t stop me,” He growled again. He had no intention to give up. The rational Tony, who knew that he had to resist the urge to drink something bad for his Peanut, was suffering from withdrawal and wasn’t able to think clearly. The Omega tried to take the mug off Steve’s hand, but the bastard lifted his arm too high for his height, so he started to whine and to complaining as they moved around the kitchen like children who were playing tag. Only slower, because Tony was still very pregnant, and Steve didn’t want him to be hurt. In the meantime, Natasha had just pointed her phone’s camera one them, very discreetly. Any time was a good time to get blackmailing and compromising material on his friends. Suddenly, Tony stopped. His eyes were fixed in Steve’s, burning with rage and anger, the same emotions that were motivating him to stay up. He extended one arm behind himself and opened his palm. “Send me Mark 47’s gauntlet J. I have an Alpha to blast,” He commanded, with a guttural growl. They were only wasting energy, energies that he didn’t have, because Steve didn’t allow him to drink his fucking coffee. “Fine,” Steve finally said, opening his arms exasperated. Tony’s eyes went from the Alpha to his mug and backwards, warily. He had different tactics to win a fight of course and annoying his enemy as much as possible was one of his favorites, together with talking until they felt disoriented. But he also knew better, and Steve Rogers never surrendered so easily, neither in the battleground nor in his everyday life. Especially not with Tony. “You can have all the coffee you want, if you’ll pick up the mug,” He added, with a smirk. Then, he put the mug on the floor at Tony’s feet and he crossed his arms, after he returned straight, as to state how much of a little shit he was. His gaze never left Tony’s fuming face. There was a chuckle from Natasha, and an outraged gasp from Tony, whose mouth dropped open. “You... didn’t just do that,” Tony hesitated, mouth pulling down into a frown. “I think I did,” Steve pointed out cheekily. “Don’t want it anymore?” “You put - You put -” Tony looked down, looking so hurt that Steve almost went down again to get back the mug. Almost. “Irritating Alpha, you know I can’t bend over!” Tony cried. “Is this the kind of respect you have for the father of your son?” He waved his hands like crazy. It would have been adorable, if he wasn’t getting so angry. “What’s happening?” Clint’s head popped up behind the door. He seemed confused, but one look at the bickering couple and at the mug on the floor were enough to understand the situation. “Uh,” He sat near Natasha, but on the table. Clint valued his life to interfere, but it didn’t mean just observing would have been less fun. “Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Tony snapped, pulling out his Starkphone. He wasn’t going to lose or changing his mind that time. Perhaps he already forgot his withdrawal from caffeine, but there still was his pride at stake. He couldn’t believe his Alpha would have left him die of thirst… Or worse, that he mocked him about his pregnancy. He saw Steve raising a questioning eyebrow. He probably had that look on his face more times since Tony became pregnant, than in all his life. The Omega knew his pregnancy wasn’t the quietest of all, exactly the opposite: he was having a lot of pregnancy cravings, and half of the times Steve provided him with the food he desired, he ended up rejecting it because of a bad smell or a sudden change of heart. Then, the hormones, ugh. If they were on a date and he saw any kind of puppies, tears would fill his eyes even in the middle of the street. He went crazy when someone said they weren’t watching WALL-E for the 18th times, and he forgot his anger just a moment later, when Steve started telling stories to their baby. Given the circumstances, his mate didn’t deserve his current outburst, but it was too hard to control his emotions. “Who are you calling?” Steve asked suspiciously. When he ignored the Alpha, also turning on another side, he felt his own skin burning. Steve hated when his Omega pretended, his Alpha’s instincts required full attention. “I bet he’s calling Colonel Rhodes to give you one of his shovel talks” Clint joked, even if that would have been a realistic situation. “That would be the third one. This month only” Considered Natasha, without even trying to hide the amusement note in her voice. “Hey miss Potts, why you didn’t answer by the first ring? I don’t care that you were on a meeting, listen to me - Yes, you aren’t my assistant anymore, but that doesn’t mean - No, I can’t tell you what I want, because you won’t let me finish talking!” There were screaming on both sides of the line, as usual. “I need Jason Momoa’s number. Steve and I didn’t have any fight, why would you think - Listen Pep, light of my life, I need his number, please just do me a favor? But I am asking nicely - Because I wanna raise my child with him!” He blurted it out with a high-pitched voice. And that was the real moment when things turned bad. Or very, very good. Steve roared from the depths of his throat, and Tony could have sworn that the whole Tower trembled by the power of that sound. Natasha and Clint chose to leave in that moment, covered by the sound of the Starkphone hitting the floor. Tony barely had time to realize what was happening, that he had Steve on him, and his strong scent all around him. He felt his mouth dry and his eyes spreading. “What have you just said, my Omega?” Steve asked in a husky voice, the words roughened at the end. The next growl reverberated through the Alpha’s chest and made his entire body shivered in expectation. Tony started to say he hadn’t really meant it, that it was just his silly pregnant self speaking, but then Steve’s teeth landed on his neck, over his bonding mark, over his heart beat, digging in enough to make him gasp. Nothing made him feel as defenseless as his Alpha’s possessiveness. “You threatened me to raise our son with another man? Another Alpha?” Steve roared the words on his ear, and the he held his breath when the Alpha put a possessive hand at the back of his neck, the eyes sliding dark blue. Tony really tried to find the correct answer, but it didn’t exist, there wasn’t anything right to say at that point. He screwed up, he freaked out instead of reflecting and then his head became too fuzzy to actually think. He opened the mouth and closed it right after, because he would have just made things worse. Steve was watching him like he was the most inviting prey, knowing Tony didn’t have any way out. The Omega wasn’t scared of him, he was hyper conscious of Steve’s power and aroused by it, but never terrified. The Alpha acting so jealous was another proof of their wonderful love, and Tony never loved so much to be an Omega. So many things changed since they had met. He spent almost all his life being adamant about not being matched, fighting all the Omegas’ stereotypes, revolutionizing the way they were seen, rejecting every Alphas and Betas’ bullshits. He was considered the living example of thriving, successful Omega who fulfilled himself without a mate. When he met Captain America and they started living in the same place, he didn’t want Steve to act like an Alpha, also detesting being called Omega by him. And still, he had been such a good man to him… Instead of talking, he did what any Omega in love would do: started looking up at him halfway through his eyelashes, tilted his head to side, showing his neck where Steve put his mark when he claimed him, and purred low in his throat until the Alpha growled deeply. “That’s right Tony,” Steve breathed the words into his mate’s neck, praising him with soft kisses and small bites up to the soft spot behind his hear. “You’re so good like this sweetheart, so pretty. Sweet, perfect and submissive for me, aren’t you?” Tony moaned sweetly, wrapping both arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him closer, feeling instantly very pleased. The irritation that usually flooded him after being exposed in that way never brushed him, because it was his Alpha, and as Omega all his instincts were irrationally screaming that the Alpha would have done everything if he was submissive enough… “I’m sorry - I’m sorry Steve, Alpha,” He cried in another sudden change of heart, then stood on his toes to kiss him lovingly with a touch of anxiety. Steve promptly hugged him tightly, paying attention to his strength to not hurt Tony and the baby. Always so caring, his Alpha. “I’m all yours, we are - Alpha, I need -” And as the demanding Omega he actually was, he needed much more than kisses. Fuck, he needed his mate to put both hands low on his ass to pull him up and pin him against a wall, then leave love bites on his exposed skin, ripping off his pants and pressing a knee between his legs, so he would have been blocked, and panting, and desperate. “I’ve got you love” Steve’s words were full of wicked promises that made him whimper out load. They crushed their mouth together in a hard kiss that muffled every sound for a long minute, and when Tony’s leg went around Steve’s waist, the Alpha automatically helped him resting his leg up there, pressing a hand under his thigh. The Omega’s purring echoed in the room, and he got his fingers tangled in Steve’s blonde hair, tugging enough to make the Alpha groan. When Steve pulled away just enough to bit at his bottom lip, his mouth fell open on a sigh, letting his mate shoving his tongue past his lips again, to taste him selfishly. It was becoming hard to breath, even more when Steve’s other hand slid under his sweater and it settled on his belly. That gesture alone was enough to made Tony melt trustfully against him. He had an Alpha, and he was about to give birth to their first, beautiful, perfect son. “B-back to bed” Tony could barely talk, and he slurred his word in the lowest voice. Steve let go of his leg, but he continued to hold him with a firm arm around his waist and Tony was very relieved to share his own weight. After all, he hadn’t mated a super soldier for nothing. Then they pressed their foreheads together, Tony still mewling and moaning slightly, out of breath, Steve with the warmest gaze and fondest smile. “I’ve a better idea,” Steve started, and his smile became a grin. He pressed one fingertip under Tony’s chin to made him lift his head up, their lips separated just by an inch. “One that will put your sweet mouth to better use” Tony moaned again, stirring like a kitten against Steve’s muscled body, so soft and firm at the same. The Alpha also had the best scent: Tony’ sense of smell was badly affected by the whole maternity thing, but his Alpha’s scent just got better day after day. Thrilled by Steve’s possible idea, he dotted kissed long his jawline, growling happily and making his mate chuckling. Everybody thought he had the cutest growl and it was true, either when he was upset or delighted. He only hoped that the idea wouldn’t have required himself on his knees, because frankly, that would have been beyond his current physical abilities. But he would’ve totally agreed to lie down on the bed, both Steve and him on one side, his hot mouth wrapped around the Alpha’s big cock- Steve picked him up effortlessly, both arms under his knees and his back, and for once Tony didn’t complain at all. He always had a thing for Steve’s show of strength. “Oh Steve, you know I wasn’t serious before, right? You are such a good Alpha to me, the best, and you will be a great dad, and - and -” He was switching from talking to kissing, touches light as butterflies. “And - You are putting me on a chair. Why are you putting me on a chair, honey? I, well, I’m still very flexible but this position seems excessive also - mmpff” /> Steve indeed put his Omega on a chair, one protective hand swirled over his belly, then shut him up with a long, deep kiss. Steve proved many times that his tongue alone was able to make Tony speechless, in more than one way, and places. “Because,” Steve chanted, moving towards the kitchen, leaving behind a pretty aroused and confused Omega. “I’m making you breakfast, you haven’t eaten yet. What kind of Alpha would I be if I didn’t feed my mate before bringing him back to bed? To rest, of course” Tony’s mouth fell open as he stared at Steve’s back, who first scooped the forgotten mug and Starkphone up off the floor, then he totally focused on heating the waffle machine. Then, the Omega started to babble and to stutter words, glaring at his mate who answered docilly, patronizing him just to keep him quiet and get him to eat. “Hey Stevie, Tony. What dat waffle did ya?” Bucky showed up some time later, finding his best friend sipping milk, sat next to his Omega, who was stabbing an innocent waffle. Steve gave him a lopsided grin, while Tony murmured something, stuffing more food in his mouth. Bucky recognized the words “cruel Alpha”, “troll” and a swear - Not a very bad one, they had been banished since Tony was seven months pregnant. “It reminded him that he’s pregnant, he has to avoid certain things and he can’t call Jason Momoa. Otherwise, this waffle will take him to the hospital and ask the doctor to put him on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy” “Hate that doctor. He do’s anythin’ Cap tells him” Tony grumbled, and Steve nodded with proud. “’s just a scared little sh-” Steve let out a cough, disapproving the poor choice of words, stopping him. He had a point anyway: Steve hadn’t exactly been polite to Tony’s gynecologist at first, or to the nursing staff, even if they had chosen only Betas. He hated leaving his Omega in someone else’s care and he snapped all around without control. The gynecologist had to sit down with Steve and let him know with extreme precision and caution the next steps he would have done with Tony, until the Alpha regained his senses. Then, he gave everyone his golden boy smile, flexed the biceps – he didn’t, but that’s what Tony used to say – and made his excuses with the biggest puppy dog eyes. At that point, it was Tony’s turn to get jealous. Bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed, mouth set in an unimpressed line. “I’ll just pretend to understand and that ya gonna be totally normal parents for Peter” “For whom?” Steve asked absently, his eyes remained fix on the grumpy Omega. “Uh, your future child? Peanut, Tony’s excuse to make us do what he wants whenever he wants. Seriously Stevie, what’s going on?” The corner of Tony’s mouth quirked up in a satisfied grin, before he really thought about Bucky’s word. “You said Peter,” Steve pointed out. “No, I didn’t. Why the he- Why would I say dat?” An angry glare from Steve made him rephrase the question. “I dunno, maybe you were just-” “Oh my god,” Tony exhaled, before Steve had a chance to finish his sentence. His eyes widened as he glanced at Bucky, then he found his mate’s gaze and his mouth opened in the most stunning smile he had, the one that created little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “We got it,” He managed to say through a soft whisper. He felt too overwhelmed by happiness and his voice broke into a cry when he repeated the words: “We- We got it” He saw Steve’s pupils flaring, his lips parting a little when he understood what Tony was saying. “You like the name?” He asked, voice full of hope. “Oh, Alpha. I love the name,” He announced while throwing himself at Steve, as much as his big belly allowed him, without lifting up from the chair. Steve turned to catch him instinctively, and he circled his body with both arms, hugging tightly. Tears filled the Omega’s eyes, but he hid them burying his face in Steve’s neck and hugging back with the same strength. “We’re having a Peter then?” Bucky asked, getting closer to the happy couple. “Yes!” Tony squeaked, at the same time as Steve asked, “We?” with a smug grin painted on his lips, never letting go of his Omega. “Yeah, we. He already changed our lives and he isn't even born yet. Dat child will have secret agents, spies, a god, super soldiers and men with the greatest minds of the century as family, and still, he’ll hold all of us right there in the palm of his small hand. I already see ya both: the softest dads, head over heels in love with a baby that’ll have Tony’s genius and your ability for gettin’ into trouble.”

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elizabethrobertajones · 6 years

Text

14x09 watching notes

jingle bells, bobo smells, It is no fun, for us to wait All christmas in hiatus

Berens... please...... I beg you........... don't kill the sweet precious moonchild that is Garth. Please. The joke is "how are you still alive!?" and it would be a disrespect to Bobby's memory, and he represents a stable post-hunting endgame that was a beacon in season 9. In this essay I will

They used Dean's dead-voice "we're the guys that scare them" speech about hunting monsters in 13x05 to open. I wonder if Yockey wrote that thinking it might be the logical open to 13x23 and instead they used "this is boring, got any music?" also from one of his episodes.

[i guess! meme]

The recap left us hanging about if Jack was alive or not for the Kaia recap which turns out to be rude even though I know that he's fine ("fine") now because I am so emotionally affected by this dumb lump of nougat that not seeing an instant "he's okay haha tricked you!" legit raised my stress levels a notch.

Maybe because it's 4am and I was demolishing a slab of toast before the December chill in my room got it first, but I don't think there was any particular art or storytelling to the recap worth mentioning or musing on, and this came across almost more like the recap AFTER the break because getting back to plot stuff like seeing Mikey things again... The 13x05 lines make me wary on Dean's emotional behalf but obviously these are for very different reasons so the only real thing that might come up is that Cas is hiding his deal from Dean and Dean sounded so dead in the feels because Cas was dead. Obviously the real stress right now is what's up with Dean re: obvious nerve-wracking things like the djinn bouncing off his head or his swooshy vision, things we've been collecting up to ask more pointed questions about when Michael's in the room.

Americans: "that's downtown Vancouver!/an actual American city!/the ACTUAL American city in the caption!" me: "hurrrr skyline"

How much budget for Christmas music

I hate this episode already

Okay the blood and screaming is improving things.

Listen, werewolves always have so much fun these days. We had the knock knock one in 13x09, the Kardashian ones in 13x23, and now we have wereSanta here, who just spotted the mistletoe. D'aaaw.

These halo-shaped lights in this apartment Michael picked sure are gonna come in handy if the director knows what they're doing.

GARF. Please say you're here undercover.

OH SHIT. Michael KNOWS. Being in Dean's head does that to you. All his peeps get embedded in your brain. Please tell me some 2 way vessel/angel nonsense happens and you can't bring yourself to harm him.

GARTH HAS A LITTLE GIRL NOOOOOOOOOOOO

She adores Mr Fizzles. Garth spends hours with them hanging out together.

I don't believe him though. I mean. He's just telling Michael what he wants to hear, right?

Having a little girl is such a way to die, though. I mean. Can we just... not do that?

Let Garth Go Home For Christmas

Those halos sure aren't landing over Michael's head no matter how many of them there are

Jack: eating gross cereal made of cookies at midnight in the dark

Me: I love and support you and have done the same

Cas: *SQUINT*

Dadstiel is the best

Sam being the "it will rot your teeth" dad is also the best. I love the Dad Heirarchy being established here. Sam is still Dad no.1 and the one who lays down the rules and gets disobeyed about midnight cereal, full on domestic dad-ing. Cas is the dad who hears you munching from across the entire Bunker and sighs and gets out of Dean's bed where they've been watching movies together (I extrapolate from missing data) and comes to investigate but ends up in the Secret Midnight Cookie Cereal Pact instead.

If Garth dies he may bequeath Mr Fizzles to Sam to help parent Jack, who is now keeping secrets about midnight cereal consumption and needs an expert lie-detector to help him parent.

Okay, so, in season 9 after Dean took the Mark of Cain he was up all night eating cornflakes and not sleeping. The corn was symbolic to Cain. Jack goes through all he did and has cookie cereal which is just his sweet tooth. But he had foreign grace implanted in him, and also is tapping a lil bit of his soul to be alive, meaning he's in a weird power situation and we don't know what's up with him at all. TFW are very much like "upright and not coughing blood is good enough for us", especially when with magic involved it's not like they might have an actual science explanation ever come their way.

Jack sitting in the dark is obviously symbolic of hiding things, his cookie cereal is disapproved of and a guilty secret from Sam in the first place, he's consuming something - willingly - that's bad for him and will rot him right after the sweet sweet probably not Gabriel grace he ingested 2 episodes ago, and added all up makes a secret - and he and Cas of course share Cas's deal secret so it's not like Cas can go stomping around complaining to the other dads what he found Jack doing without Jack being like yeah well guess what CAS did.

It's sure a fun way to parallel the beginning of Dean's dark dark arc and Jack's sugary sweet dark arc.

Dean: kid if you are going to sit in the kitchen at weird hours and eat cereal, at least self-flagellate a little *slams the box of cornflakes down in front of him.*

Jack also is wearing a lot of red lately.

Though his new jacket is santa-coloured not like... Mark of Cain doom blood death coloured like demon!Dean's infamous red shirt.

He's currently wearing Cas-coloured shoes and sitting in Dean's spot from 9x13 aka the iconic cornflakes scene in question.

"If you can't sleep, that's understandable, given recent events." "You mean dying and coming back to life."

Cas has been around the humans too long. He talks in euphemisms and gets called out by his too-literal son.

The tables turn.

Oh Jack... so full of worries about Heaven and if his mom is safe, and making Cas confront that nothing is perfect, even Heaven, and have to say it out loud because he can't lie to Jack and sugarcoat this.

Reminds me of 13x06 where he had to tell Jack that yeah sorry not all angels are perfect either. Sweet lil foetus!Jack sure picked the correct angel to be his guardian.

Naomi is "complicated"

Cas. Hon. *hands him a blanket and a bowl of cereal*

OH MY GOD Jack calling him out on why can't Sam and Dean know about the deal.

Having Jack around is so much a breath of fresh air that Cas is starting to regret ever kidnapping him in 12x19.

"They CAN I just don't WANT them to know" CAS. You've been forced to Verbalise A Thing Using The Correct Language. I am giving you an entire gold star. TWO GOLD STARS. I'm drawing a smilie face on them.

Jack is upset that Cas made the deal for him: "they don't need that burden. you don't need that burden" "of course I do. You did that, for ME" - the ole season 2 Dean thing, where it took until 2x08 to know for sure what John did and it basically killed Dean 3 times over and he was a Mess. Not knowing but not having all the answers and being worried/suspicious about what's up with the neat circumstances of being alive again is hooorrible. And this is calling out the whole Winchester cycle of sacrifice (conveniently now with us knowing that John will be dropping by for an episode to really hammer the point home) by addressing how Jack now has to carry the burden of knowing that Cas did that for him.

Cas is like, "Yeah don't worry I haven't been happy in all of Creation." Jack looks earnestly at him. "I'm sorry."

Cas diverts to eating the gross cereal, which he apparently also secretly indulges in, or else, as Mittens pointed out to me, Dean does too and either way Cas is being gross and adorable and hanging out with his kid and this is horrible I hate it oh god it's more sickly sweet than the cereal they're eating.

Garth hiding in the kitchen to panic and phone mom to get him from the party.

"THIS ISN'T YOUR MOM, GARTH, THIS IS AN ARCHANGEL"

And he's just learned to say "balls" appropriately too.

Sam immediately gets The Guilts because he's being leaderly and losing Garth would be his first major blow as a leader oh god oh god no oh Sammy oh GARTH I can't handle this.

Berens sure is invested in the leader!Sam stuff and telling this story long before anyone else was and had his minion Glynn tease us with Maggie earlier in the season D:

I'm calling mom to get me from the party

"It's Ketch" Sam raises his eyebrows like "I forgot he was in this season"

Does that mean Ketch skyped Cas first

that's hilarious all by itself

He has tea because of course he does

Oh my god he's skyping with Jack. Are they buds? HAS HE ADOPTED JACK?

Honestly of all the characters in the entire show he's probably resisted longest so far when it comes to adopting Jack if they ever met even briefly in Apocalypse World.

This is how you can tell he's the worst :P Rowena "I will never love again" MacLeod took all of 20 seconds to adopt Jack.

He's been in England for like a week and his accent is 100x more hammy. "ExPRopriATE"

He's rolling his Rs. I mean. Is that even in our accent? Not in mine.

Jack watching attentively while he tells his story with no judgement forthcoming, just pure interest in what Ketch says... good thing Ketch is too self-centred on his tale of derring-do or he might find Jack's sweet interest flattering and begin wondering if he has it in himself to be fatherly.

I'm suddenly legitimately interested in the unstoppable force of Jack's adoptability vs the immovable object of Ketch's ego.

He posted it. Around Christmas. Look I'm friends with a postie and she's hucking around a bag as big as herself.

Maybe he put a ribbon on it.

From BUDAPEST. Paying extra really is gonna speed THAT up

"Where is our weapon?" "It's been sitting in Guam for a week. I don't understand. Why is it in Guam?"

TFW all react with snark, side-eyes or despair at Ketch, and 2.0 doesn't even get a reaction because I don't think Jack understands how dumbass Ketch is because he's too smol to have fought the mail :P

"We appreciate the effort" "DO WE?"

Cas is staring into the void, meanwhile. Internally, "Well at least I can be sure I'm not going to worry about allowing myself to be happy any time THIS month"

Oh, sweet! The laptop is set up right next to Britain on the map table :')

Hey if they have to brave the post office to get the egg, they can find out Harper is still stalking Jack :D

Cas can't even work out which direction to start rolling his eyes, gives up and walks off. Dean gestures the screen, look what you made him do! You asshole!

"Only thing that can take him down now is the full Ichabod" "?" *gestures decapitation* "oh."

Poor Garth. Werewolves really are the worst. I can see why you were so upset about being turned.

Remember when Sam described him as an "ichabod crane alike" or something, I think in 9x12 when asking at the hospital about him? Maybe? I swear to god that might be a less subtle hint Garth is going to die than Charlie's "merry christmas"

Garth honey nooo

I'm pretty sure we saw Michael mind-controlling the werewolf in the cold open which means we're in for SOME sort of drama next

Oh good Cas is back, I guess he went to scream outside.

"Oh it would have made it if it wasn't closed for the holidays" Sam is being so withering I hope Ketch can feel it from Budapest.

Garth you are going to get in so much trouble and I'm so scared for you and your family at Christmas

At least in this scene Dean n Cas are playing footsie under the table if nothing else.

With Michael holed up in a towerblock for Christmas I am so worried that I should have watched Die Hard before getting here.

D'aw Dean teams himself up with Cas without even hesitating.

Holy shit they used a season 1 clip of the Impala driving past a field of cows.

"Hi we shot this for 1x06 it's practically an easter egg now"

God, it's the promo scene and we're 16 minutes in.

Not over Cas being like "you're happy" because he can't be happy but he's seeing Dean being, you know, cheerful. It's worrying because it's so close to endgame... if they kill Michael, Dean can be happy. And if Dean can be happy...

bye bye Cas

It's so easy with Dean looking away for Cas's silence to be "lol never" instead of "I ought to tell you the string that is attached"

*quietly climbs into the garbage pile as I think about how neither can be happy while the other is as a literal plot mechanism*

Them leaving the door open seems so significant I thought we were going to see Bad!Kaia comically hiding behind it

Awwwwww Jack wants to break into his first building with lock picks!!

I can't believe they're doing this in broad daylight.

I can't believe there was a Gish item to go to a post office after hours dressed as Santa's elves and that's what Jack is doing with that coat

"Who taught you to pick a lock?" "I did. And the internet"

Sam's "that's my boy" face.

"I wanted to stay useful"

that was your cue to tell Jack he's useful regardless

On the other hand he got the door opened and smiled up at Sam so I guess he gets the validation that way instead.

"HAPPY Holidays" Jack is SO PLEASED the box is saying something nice.

BOOM you have witnessed, once again, Sam being knocked out.

Wow, no. His skull is getting thicker, he manages to cling on long enough to watch his boy being abducted.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, SAM.

Awww Michael came to oversee it. HAPPY HOLIDAYS, Michael!

Sam is way too concussed to deal with this. Or drive.

Michael has a really similar coat to what he had in the AU but for a fancy rich lady instead of a badass hot cowboy which really begs the question of why he dressed SO SO OTT for Dean, even given his fashionista tastes for the other 2 vessels we've seen.

I am sad we don't have the other Michael vessel just because he's off making out with Constantine on Legends of Tomorrow (meta textuality of THAT to be unpacked by fandom at length :P), but she's an absolutely uncanny female double for him with the coat and the ominous camera angles and her general scary vibe.

"You're going to kill me anyway" *MOOSE CHARGE*

I stan one concussed boy

Blorp

No fancy weapons for you guys, use your heads.

Not Sam's head, he's just taken his 3rd hit in a minute.

Garth gets caught snitching though I suspect Michael knew he was listening in and sent Dean to get attacked by Bad!Kaia anyways.

There's chess being played here.

Er, and you're the pawns.

I think Dean is the other player and everyone ELSE is a pawn in Michael's reckoning.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE? WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Kaia, they just shouted like 20 minutes of the plot so far at each other, you know as much as we do at this point.

I love Kaia's fighting stance but oh my GOD Dean walking up to the spear and having it put against his heart. He knows it's a power move but it's also a gentle one, and he's waved enough guns in her face and our Kaia's face... This is one of those moves you use both on frightened animals and also to show you are a good unarmed nice guy and it's an attempt to re-negotiate after all he's done to Kaias over time >.>

"if you're not going to give it to me, kill me" Dean says, at the end of his big emotional appeal to Family And Saving People as his divine guiding forces in the universe by which he sets his moral compass and acts as the best version of himself in the defence of.

Cas behind him like "I hope this works because I love this dumbass and if you ACTUALLY kill him I'm contractually obligated to murder you so like, pls don't escalate this"

"How do I know if you're telling the truth" well he's not so jot that down.

Cas like "can you please stop talking, Dean, I am not agreeing with any of your policies here" because not only did he drag Jack into it, he made a promise that Jack's completely unable to uphold since he, you know, doesn't have the power to get Kaia home any more.

Poor Bad!Kaia though. Spent her life running from monsters too. She and our Kaia have the same trama, but she's so hardened by it :(

"If you don't bring this back to me I will find you and kill you"

Yikes, magic weapons are having a bad run in these parts, I think Dean's pretty much a gonner :P

I love that the Wayward Sisters music plays around Kaia but it makes me so so so so sad

"So, what, is he playing us?" he's playing YOU Dean. Your move!

"Don't you go in there alone." "I know, drive fast"

Aka concussed bab is gonna go in there alone if you don't hurry.

I have literally no comprehension about the driving times involved in this episode because I don't know US geography like that, but it's Berens not Dabb but he's mentioned specific locations so he better have looked these all up on google maps because this is one heck of a fact checkable episode with 4 distinct known and named locations and you all driving to and fro.

I love Michael's new apartment. It has a dark Heaven aesthetic vibe which is perf.

Jack's here and he's immediately deposited under the halo lights.

I can not WAIT for a Jack vs Michael scene.

*chin hands*

"Why didn't you kill me?" *eyebrow raise*

Poor nougat is being made to feel useless again :( This is Michael grinding his heel into Jack while he has him on the floor, kneeling in supplication under those halo lights.

Michael is into villain monologuing. A terrible, terrible habit.

"Death from above," Michael says, the first time he's had halos over his head.

His concept of soul ownership intrigues me because he would get all the humans who died in an attack on this city in his original world. In this he's turning them into monsters but with his grace, so they belong to him. That means that somehow or other he's probably overriding not just their nature to be controllable by him, which overrides in turn Eve's control over all monsters. She totes isn't dead BTW she's just in Purgatory. I'm like 100% sure of it :P Anyway I do wonder if Michael's control over the monsters extends so far as accidentally granting them passage to Heaven by claiming them and overriding Eve's control. Who knows. The thought wandered by and really tickled me.

Because it's a long game with the real value in people for beings of this level just being in their value as collectibles after death, and season 5 was all about our Michael getting all the souls by killing all the humans and storing them away in Heaven and that was his Paradise he was fighting for. And if he's converting entire cities to monsterhood in order to gain control over the territory in a quiet no mess way, then his control and command of them is passed on through the bite thanks to whatever he did to them. At the very least he's managed to make himself into their new Alpha.

I mean unless this is a phase one and he's sacrificing getting the souls of these lot in exchange for a lot more souls down the line.

LOL Michael pulls "I'm your only kin" and Jack's like, uh, REAL Michael is in the cage, POSER.

I love how Jack's got the such simplistic child language of "I hate you" which comes out so honestly and fiercely. Jack's 1 layer personality is reaaally deep even if it is mostly 1 layer. A very very thick slab of nougat. Full of goodness. It's EXCELLENT character writing to balance a character like this. He has a good understanding of the world by now, evidenced by very clearly being able to distinguish AU!Michael from his living kin of our Michael in the cage, and yet at the same time his emotional range is still 100% whatever he feels about a thing and so for Michael it's hate. Because when kids get upset they can yell "I hate you I hate you!" in a tantrum, and Jack's personality is that but moderated and adult and reasonable, and that... What a good approach to writing a character. Om nom nom.

This vessel is definitely way more expressive than the previous two Michaels, which is something I've noticed in a looot of the vessel gender swaps, which really makes me go sociological on why gesturing and fiddling and so on is so much a part of presence for a female character on screen, while male characters are allowed to stand still and just kind of radiate presence. I mean, she HAS presence, but she's been moving her hands a lot and it's the main detail which makes her not match up as neatly. Jensen threw his whole personality into not moving Michael's arms, to follow on from Christian's portrayal.

I think Raphael's second vessel was menacingly still. That actress did a great job. That slow head turn after they hurl an angel blade at her in 6x22... Nice.

Lisa Berry strikes a nice balance at huge presence and only necessary gestures, and Julian Richings was always fiddling with junk food as Death despite his cosmic presence.

Meg was all in the voice and eyebrows, both actresses.

Why am I musing on this? Because it's 7am and I'm having a wave of immense sleepiness and I think I need tea to keep on watching but it's cold so I'd rather stay bundled in blankets >.>

... I have now turned on the heating and got tea and done some stretches to try and ward off the cold-blooded lizard stupor I was sliding into. Brrr. We get Christmas break on episodes because it's so hard to watch in the cold.

"Our relation is more a matter of scale, power." Ooohohohooo but you just said you weren't killing Jack because he was powerless.

I mean I'm crowing at Michael for maybe revealing a flaw in his monologue to me but at the same time that's terrifying for what he plans for Jack because that presumably involves powering back up but under HIS control. Nephew theft.

I say smugly having posted Jack being kidnapped by Michael in Andrea's Diner for his power/money last week so that I can just ride this one out with a "in before this plotline" raised eyebrow.

I mean I was using a hybrid season 8/14 set up with Naomi still being Michael's flunky but the important thing is that he was trapped in an office in a towerblock which may or may not now be exactly this one since I have eyes on it and Michael was gonna do whatever it took to get Jack's share of the company until Cas marched in and saved the boy.

Yeah my diner AU has corporate drama, deal with it.

NOW we're getting to the epic speeches. The time that makes mountains. Epic. And Michael is like hey you and me are the only ones left... And as your power returns and grows, we'll only become more alike. Cut to Jack being HORRIFIED by the concept of becoming anything like his AUncle and losing his human compassion and turning into this evil being that cheerfully talks about how not only to level cities but to improve on the concept.

Finally, we hit the epic tragedy level of Jack's story he's been hiding from in other genres from disney to rom coms to cute twee Christmas movies and even a detour into 1800s consumptive child drama to avoid it. But Hamlet's procrastination has to be challenged occasionally, and so they're face to face and Michael is taunting Jack with how he might be cute as a nougaty 2 year old but oh dear the terrible 2s are nothing to the terrible 2 billionties.

I think this room even has Heaven's furniture, as a riff on it. What's one world to another? One Heaven from another, as Michael says. Find a head office, treat it like a place of power and intimidation and it becomes one.

All Jack says is "Sam, Dean and Castiel. They'll come for me." Because he doesn't know much but in his 2 years he HAS learned who fights for him and considers him family, and who he will really set his morality by.

Of course if Cas ever allows himself to be happy, then ALL of Jack's family has an expiration date and no one can follow him through those eons to stop him straying.

Also: now eternity has a sense of horror to it. The reminder that immortality is awful and this is what it does to ancient eldritch beings. And as a result, that finite humanity may be better when it doesn't come at the cost of erosion of self.

To thine own self be true, to quote a terribly mis-used part of Hamlet and yeah yeah I studied it I know Polonius said that and it's meant to be a ridiculed line. But it's still emotionally relevant >.>

Jack's fierce sense of self and family is his only weapon here. Michael can't cast doubt on that. Maybe fear for the future, but in the immediate presence, Jack has a ROCK.

That red coat also makes him very distinctively the only real colour in the room.

Michael is wearing dark blue for the red vs blue coding, but it's dark enough to not stand out in the decor.

TFW are all wearing brown and tan.

I'm actually quite fond of this stupid jock werewolf.

Awkward silences with jingle bells in the background... why are they making werewolves inherently comical in Dabb era, I don't know. But I LOVE it.

RIP the sexy werewolf.

Dumb jock werewolf has already run off, which MAY be a reminder to panic about all the monsters in position, or he might get stopped on the way by TFW in a strategic position...

RIP other sexy werewolf.

Both, sadly, as hot as they were, die with amusing riffs of jingle bells to accompany their decapitations. No dignity in death for these fuckers.

Sam may or may not be doing a Red Meat by taking them on alone but he sure is in a better position with only a mild concussion leftover from the earlier attack rather than, you know, a barely-treated gut shot.

Man I hope Cas healed up the residual damage of that before the end of season 11.

Sam is indeed alone as he promised not to be while 100% intending to rush right in, which means that dumb jock werewolf did indeed run off into the city, which means that with 10 minutes left a whoops we let Kansas City turn into monsters cliffhanger might be a lark.

Merry Christmas everyone but Kansas City.

I mean Sam doesn't need to rush on the Jack rescue, Michael literally has eons of AUncle-nephew bonding planned.

The fact Alex has visible chicken pox scars on his forehead amuses me so much. While Jack fast-track grew in 12x23 he randomly inflicted the pox on himself as part of the childhood experience. Like, oh, I better get all my immunity from mom so when my 3 dads collectively fail to get me vaccinated at least I've got that. *boop* chicken pox scars appear.

S'gonna be Garth on the other side of that door

OH NO IT IS

Oh no Sam, it's a trap, he's gonna eat you. Oh no oh no you can't cut Garth's head off. He's a Beloved Sweetie Pie.

If this ends with watching Mr Fizzles get a hunter funeral I am sending Bobo a mountain of coal for Christmas.

Love that universal trope of the werewolf ducking away for an embarrassing uncontrolled transformation that looks somewhere between puking and period cramps. Moonsickness.

Michael is the moon controlling it in this case.

Cosmic bodies.

Don't touch him, Jack!!

Transformations with glowy eyes suck :<

This is just CRUEL to make Garth be like "I'm sorryyyyy" as he charges at Sam.

LOL THIS IS A CRYPT SCENE. He's in Garth's head!

"You don't have to do this!" "You can fight this, Garth!"

Me, staring at my mess of red string connecting crypt scenes: How did I get to Garth wolfing out while shouting apologies at Sam and Sam begging him to stop when this all started with Dean n Cas fighting over a lump of rock 6 seasons ago

Oh thank god they ended it with Sam vulcan neck pinching Garth to sleep after Jack took a rolling tackle at him and Garth ends up still controlled and shoved in the back of the car for later problems.

We'll file this under the failures section between bros and move on though I won't deny Berens had me in a cold sweat that I was going to have to throw years of work out because Sam would grab Mr Fizzles out of Garth's pocket and soothe him back to himself :P

Mr Fizzles x Garth as the Destiel parallel of the year

"Thanks for waiting for us," Dean says, angrily gesturing the alive and rescued Jack while uselessly holding the spear.

It's okay baby there's 7 minutes left and Cas still doesn't have fake blood all over him.

I think Mikey might come back around to gloat. He strikes me as the supervillain type to do that.

They figure out the last few chess moves that Michael made while sitting on the trunk that Garth is locked in. Rough.

In the background, Cas strides over to the brooding Jack.

Boop.

"I wouldn't bet against us."

In Which Dean Nearly Decapitates His Brother

Rousing family speech about no odds or element of surprise or fear from Michael, and they go dramatically walking off towards the elevator with blaring Christmas music.

I hate this

Everyone has a weapon except Jack, who just has a series of incomprehensible troubled looks every time anything happens.

The Boy Is Concerned. But is it about what's going on around him, or inner turmoil disrupting his nougaty centre?

He looks placid again during the dramatic walk, while everyone else has their hero faces, he's surrounded by his dads so he can just be like :3 and enjoy the adventure.

Michael is bored and pacing because they took too long having broments downstairs and walking slowly towards the elevator and he wants to do this great dramatic turn when they arrive but the elevator is craaaaaaawling up the building.

Fine, what if I'm not by the window but sitting down with my back to them.

Is Michael NERVOUS?

Big talk about being a zillion years old and then getting impatient.

What did Michael just see? Because he lit up his eyes and got a lot more confident...

"There... he... is" he smirks.

Me when Cas

Cas doesn't usually nearly get a killing blow on me, though. Nice move, bud.

HEY, RUDE. DOn'T HURT HIM

I know he just tried to stab you but I'm allowed to yell that. Also stabbing archangels doesn't tend to work on them but whatever :P

Come on Dean, GET HIM. He hurt the bae! And Sam and Jack now! But nowhere near as dramatically!

Ironically if Michael had just had any patience he wouldn't have fallen for being baited into coming to see Cas snooping around his front desk.

OH NOICE THIS IS THE SAME FIGHT WITH MICHAEL AND DARK KAIA BUT DEAN AND MICHAEL

Ow, Dean not doing so well after all.

Is that Sam or Jack inching a hand towards the spear. If Sam stabs Michael then it's a thanks in return for stabbing Lucifer. If Jack does... Badass, kid needs a big kill.

On the other hand, we're so near cliffhanger time territory that.. well.

Nope, Sam just did the slide a weapon back to Dean thing and Dean got in a hit on Michael in their duel.

Same arm he got stabbed on.

"trust me, that's gonna leave a scar"

Jack I hope you are paying attention to Dad no.3's use of one-liners because he is a master.

When he isn't, like, "you're the shortbus, shortbus."

UHOH Michael is standing with aaaaaall the haloes reflected behind him in the window and Dean is having Suspicious Killing Hesitation

aaaand there's the whooshy vision wow what a surprise

I KNEW IT WAS COMING AS SOON AS MICHAEL'S SHOULDERS WENT ALL CONFIDENT AND HE STARTED STARING AND I'M STILL UPSET.

I mean I knew it was coming as soon as Dean stumbled in like ??? I'm not Michael???

But in the short term, argh.

WHAT IS THIS BAR

It has a moose head, Jo's shooting game from the Roadhouse, and the old jukebox from 4x01's diner where Sam and Ruby hung out.

Aside from anything else this is a horrible ploy by Michael to get the spear.

WHEN DID MICHAEL BARTEND.

I am so intrigued.

But yeah, checkmate, Dean Winchester. Snapped your magic spear and melted to magic egg. What next?

Oh good and now he has the halos behind his head :< :< :< :<

Wanek I am so angry. You get coal too.

LOL Michael giving them a lesson on maaaaaaaybe asking important questions about things instead of just leaving them as soon as a character appears to be functioning on the surface, I type with this paused with Jack in the corner of my screen as a fortuitous example

Michael gloating about breaking Dean is the worst Christmas cliffhanger. I hate you Bobo.

You aren't seriously going to end the season on a snap and make us make Michael is Thanos jokes all hiatus? I mean he already fucked up one planet, decimating it in the name of a better world. Please. Don't do this, Bobo.

He did it.

Reminds me of the end of 3x10 as well, with demon!Dean lurking under Dean, waiting until before the credits to snap his fingers from within Dean's subconscious to remind us he was lurking and waiting.

Aw man this sucks.

Now Jack has to murder Dean after all.

#14x09 #season 14 spoilers #berens fanclub #my stuff

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