#‘they aren’t saying words these are just sounds and nonsense’ my brother in Christ they mostly speak in a conlang

[biocrafthero]

Something that pisses me off to no end is when someone jumps into a lore-heavy story part way through and then complains about it not making any sense. My brother in Christ it would make sense if you read the parts you literally skipped past

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Pinky promise

Steve Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: After the war, everyone returns home and tries to move on with life. Not you. You’re forced to go back to Brooklyn to take over your uncle’s bar with a constant reminder by your side that the man you loved didn’t come back to you. And her name is Sarah.

Pairing: Steve x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Brooklyn. It has been a long time since you’ve been there. Last time you were there Sarah Rogers told you it was too dangerous for a pregnant woman to stay around. She had a point. With most of the good men taken by the war, only the shady types remained. Scum will always find a way to get out of order.

You took Sarah’s advice back then. You left town and moved in with your brother on his farm. He got out of serving under a law that prevented all children from one family to be taken away. Their two older brothers were already fighting in the war so you and your brother were left.

But that didn’t matter, after all, you were carrying a child out of wedlock and you know how that goes. The child’s a bastard and the mother’s a whore but there’s no name for the man that left you like this. Sure, you could call him an asshole or whatever else you could think of but you don’t think of him like that. You could never think of him like that.

He was just a good man with a savior complex and a heart too big for his body. Besides, he didn’t know.

...

Either way, you promised yourself you’d never go back to Brooklyn in fear of bumping into him. What are you supposed to say when you see him? Hi, long time no see, this is your child, now go be a dad. That’d be mental.

But apparently you aren’t in faith’s favor. When your uncle died, you were told that you inherited his bar. The same bar you had spent endless nights at with your friends. The same bar you had gotten your first kiss in. The same bar where he told you he had to go. That thing is a scar and a half but you could never hate it.

You adored going there, working there, drinking there. It was a safe haven but now it’s old columns with bullet holes and blown out windows that need fixing. It ain’t all that bad. Some sanding and a new layer of paint oughta do it. You feel a tug at your hand. As you look down, you meet the most beautiful blue eyes with golden locks of hair. She looks so much like him.

‘Mommy, I don’t like this place.’ Her eyes are wide like a deer in the headlights, scared by all the cars and people on the streets. She’s used to the peace of your brother’s farm and you understand that the pace of the city might scare her. You kneel down next to her and put your hands on her shoulders so that she puts all her attention on you.

‘It’s just the marching band coming to play,’ you tell her in a calming voice with a comforting smile on your lips, ‘it’s just tubas and drums and loud noises. You’ll get used to it. I promise.’ You watch your little girl raise her pinky up to your face. ‘Pinky promise?’ You smile brighter as you hook your own pinky onto hers. ‘Pinky promise.’ She nods proudly as you stand up to take your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door for the both of you.

‘Y/n, is that you?’

‘Bloody hell, it’s her!’ You turn your head towards the commotion and see two girls barreling your way, almost jumping into your arms. ‘Jesus Christ woman, I missed you,’ the blonde one cries out. The brunette lets go first and smiles down at the little girl.

‘Bonnie, watch your language around the kid,’ the brunette snaps at the blonde.

‘Sorry Connie,’ she lets go of you and looks down at the kid. You put your hand on your daughter's shoulder to comfort her in meeting new people. These girls are far from strangers to you but she’s never seen them before.

‘Sweetheart, these are mommy’s friends,’ you explain to her, ‘that’s Bonnie and that’s Connie. Bonnie, Connie, this is my daughter, Sarah.’ Connie squads down to shakre the little girl’s hand with a wide smile on her face.

‘Very nice to meet you Sarah.’ Bonnie follows Connie’s movements and shakes Sarah’s hand next.

‘Yes, nice to meet you Sarah.’

‘Nice to meet you too,’ Sarah says with a shy smile but she quickly hides behind you as soon as the women get back up.

‘Goss, you’ve got your mother’s looks,’ Connie tells her, ‘that’s a good thing.’ Bonnie nods in agreement.

‘You’ve got a point there,’ she says, ‘so who’s the daddy?’ You look down at the ground for a second, feeling your stomach drop. Sarah looks up at you with hopeful eyes but opts to answering herself.

‘Daddy’s fighting bad guys,’ she proudly tells them.

‘That’s right sweetheart,’ you assure her with a weakened smile. You quickly unlock the door to the bar for her and she runs inside, excited to see what it looks like from the inside. ‘We shouldn’t talk about this outside,’ you tell the girls ‘people talk.’ They don’t ask questions about your nervous stature, they just follow.

‘Sweetheart, why don’t you go have a look upstairs,’ you tell Sarah as you hand her the key to the apartment above the bar. The apartment that’s yours now. The girl nods excitedly and runs up the stairs, more than happy to escape the unknown faces of the women that suddenly embraced her mother. A breath of relief escapes your lips as you watch her go.

Connie and Bonnie follow you into the main area of the bar. For a second, just a second, it feels like it used to on those Saturday nights when the boys would take you out dancing but you’d always end up here when the night got colder. Your uncle would always give you the first drink on the house and you’d always cheer him on for doing so. It’s a shame he’s gone so soon.

Without really thinking about it, you venture to the table in the corner where you’d usually sit with Bonnie and Connie and whoever else wanted to join. When you look down at the wood, you can still see your initials carved into it. A faint smile thugs on your lips when you run your fingers over them. It’s been too long.

‘Spill,’ Connie demands when you’re all seated. She sounds rougher than she intended to. You can tell by the way she flinches ever so slightly. She always had a way of sounding a little too harsh at the wrong moments but you know it’s never meant that way. It’s just her tone of voice.

‘I wasn’t going to come back,’ you admit with a meek smile, ‘too many memories.’

‘But you did. Why? It can’t just be the bar.’ She’s right. It never was just the bar. Though coming back might bring shame to you and Sarah, the hope of running into Sarah’s father was still there. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see him again.

Bonnie leans her elbows on the table in anticipation, her head resting in her palms. She looks like she’s going to hear the greatest love story ever told. If only it were that way. You hesitate to tell them why. What would they think of you if they knew before? The three of you never really did talk about children or marriage. But the truth will out one way or another and you’d rather have it out on your terms.

‘You know, you’d think with the world changing so much, we would’ve gone past calling a child a bastard but we really haven’t,’ you say as you feel your voice starts to shake, ‘poor girl deserves a dad and the dad deserves to know he’s got a child.’

‘Who is it,’ Bonnie pushes. You look up from the table with teary eyes. ‘Steve.’ It’s like the world stops for a second as the two women give each other a confused look. It’s like they can’t comprehend it. Steve, your best friend, got you pregnant.

‘Wait, skinny Steve or buff Steve,’ Connie asks you. Now it’s your turn to be confused.

‘Wha-what does that even mean? I guess skinny Steve. Was there another Steve around,’ you ask them. They share another look that means nothing to you but there’s concern in their eyes and you don’t know why. It worries you.

‘Did you have a TV on your brother’s farm?’

‘No, just a radio.’ Bonnie runs her hands through her hair and leans back in her chair, astounded by what you just said but it doesn’t give you any clearity.

‘Oh, you have to be joking,’ Connie exclaims, ‘you don’t know?’

‘Don’t know what? What should I know?’

‘Do you know who Captain America is?’

‘Yeah, he’s everywhere. Posters, toys, everything,’ you say as you let out a nervous chuckle, ‘what’s that got to do with Steve?’

‘Steve is Captain America.’

‘Okay, now you’re just talking nonsense,’ you say as you get up from your chair and walk over to the bar, seeing if it’s alright. The two chase after you quickly.

‘We’re not,’ Bonnie claims, ‘the man had some sort of experiment done on him or something.’

‘Steve is Captain America? You mean the man that couldn’t even talk to women properly?’

‘Says the one who got knocked up by him,’ Bonnie comments, earning her a slap on the arm from Connie. ‘Ouch,’ she whines, ‘I was just saying.’

‘Just because you didn’t like him doesn’t mean she didn’t,’ Connie hisses quietly to Bonnie to make her shut up. You can’t help but chuckle at the banter between the two. They basically share one brain cell and it always struck you as adorable when they seemed to be opposite sides of the brain.

‘But why’d you let me go on the double date back then,’ Bonnie asks you, knowing full well that Connie had asked you first because she had already expected something going on between Steve and you.

‘I had nothing to worry about,’ you tell her as a nostalgic grin pulls onto your lips, ‘besides, I didn’t want to have to explain why I wasn’t drinking.’ Bonnie gasps.

‘You already knew back then?’

‘Of course I knew,’ you sigh, ‘but it wasn’t a stable pregnancy yet and I just didn’t know things would change the way they did.’ Connie grabs a barstool off the ground and puts it down, taking a seat on it.

‘So why’d you leave,’ she asks.

‘When Steve left, I was worried I’d have to be on my own raising a child,’ you explain to them, ‘then his mother suggested going to my brother’s farm for a while.’ You hear the stairs creak as Sarah runs downstairs calling out to you. You call back to her to let her know where you are. When she runs into the bar, you can’t help but stare at her adoringly. She’s just so damn stunning. She runs up to you and jumps into your arms.

‘How do you like it,’ you ask her.

‘It’s great,’ she says with glowing eyes, ‘but there’s too much space for the two of us.’ Sarah had only ever lived on your brother’s farm where she had to share a room with you. She had never lived anywhere where she had her own room.

‘We’ll make it work,’ you promise her.

‘Well, we should get going,’ Connie announces, hooking her arm onto Bonnie’s to stop her from protesting, ‘but we’ll come around tomorrow to help you clean this place.

‘That would be wonderful,’ you smile at them as they take their leave. When the door closes, Sarah takes your hand in hers and looks at you with seriousness in her eyes that you had only ever seen before when Steve talked about enlisting and how important it was to him.

‘Mommy, it looks like there’s someone else living upstairs,’ she tells you.

‘Well, that’s because my uncle left his stuff here for us,’ you explain to her as you put her down, ‘let’s go lock the door and then you can show me around. Yeah?’ The girl’s eyes light up again as she nods excitedly. You can barely lock the door with her pulling at your arm.

Before you follow her up the stairs, you take one last look at the bar. The memories you’ve made there are as thick as the layers of dust on the furniture. You don’t like to admit it but you’re glad you’re back and you know now, with your little girl already being so excited, that you two are going to be just fine.

...

‘Y/n! We’re here!’ You jump up from behind the bar, quickly patting down your pants to rid them of dust as you walk towards the front door to greet Bonnie and Connie. Bonnie flies around your neck as she did yesterday.

‘Hi love,’ you greet her with a grin that goes from ear to ear, ‘how are you doing?’

‘We’re alright,’ Bonnie says with a mischievous look on her face as she steps aside to allow Connie to greet you.

‘We found an old friend on the way here,’ Connie tells you as she steps aside to reveal a face you haven’t seen in ages. Gosh, if it were any longer you might’ve not recognized him anymore. He looks withered but the smirk on his face is ever present as well as the cocky look in his eyes and confident stature.

‘Are my eyes deceiving me? James Buchanan Barnes, how are you doing?’ You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him into a close embrace that he accepts gratefully. His arms snake around your waist as he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

‘It’s been too long, doll,’ he says and puts his hands on your hips to distance you from him. Just so he can have a good look at you. ‘Jeez, you haven’t changed since ���42. You look stunning.’

‘You’ve got a bit more stubble on your chin,’ you tease, ‘and a haircut would do you wonders.’ He snickers as he briefly tickles your sides. You cry out a laugh and take a few steps away, lightly jogging towards the bar knowing he’ll follow.

‘So, I hear you’re the owner of this place now,’ he says as he follows with big strides, walking around like it’s still his go-to bar. You watch him as he has a look around.

‘I am,’ you say with a proud smile, ‘my uncle left it to me.’

‘He couldn’t have left it in better hands,’ he grins at you as he stalks over to the corner table, having a look at the carved initials on it. ‘Wow, they’re still here.’ You walk over to him, watching him drag his fingers over his own initials next to yours and Steve’s.

‘They are.’

‘Where’s the little one,’ Connie asks you. Your eyes shoot over at her right as she realizes what she’s just said. Bucky doesn’t know. Her hands move in front of her mouth.

‘Little one?’ As if on que, you hear the stairs creak under the weight of Sarah’s rushed footsteps. She told you yesterday that she was excited to see your friends again, even if she had been scared of them initially. You let yourself drop into a chair and hide your face in your hands as she steps into the room. You don’t have to see Bucky’s face to know that he looks shocked. Sarah looks exactly like Steve, how could he not be shocked?

‘Mommy, who’s that?’ You look up from your hands and gesture for Sarah to get closer but she looks nervous and stays where she is.

‘It’s okay sweetheart,’ you tell her as you reach out to her. She walks over and takes your hand, hiding behind it slightly at the sight of yet another stranger. ‘Sarah, this is Bucky. Bucky is a friend of mine,’ you explain to her, ‘Connie, Bonnie, Bucky, and I would come here a lot together.’ You look up at Bucky, trying to keep eyes from poking in your eyes and failing terribly. ‘Bucky, this is Sarah. My daughter.’ Bucky nods and makes himself a bit smaller, holding out his hand to shake Sarah’s hand.

‘Nice to meet you Sarah.’

‘Nice to meet you too mister Bucky.’

‘Just Bucky is fine,’ he tells her with a friendly smile.

‘Sweetheart, why don’t you go show Bonnie and Connie where we live now,’ you suggest to her, ‘I’m sure they’d love to see the drawings you put up.’ That’s all it takes for the little girl to grab Bonnie and Connie by their skirts and drag them upstairs, leaving you and Bucky alone for a few minutes.

‘That girl looks exactly like Steve,’ he exclaims. You shoot up from your chair and hurriedly walk over to the bar.

‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’ You reach for a rag you had been cleaning with before your friends walked in, running it over the bar to take Bucky’s attention off you as your feel a lump form in your throat. However, Bucky doesn’t do well with being avoided. He grabs your wrist and takes the rag out of your hand, throwing it somewhere you can’t just reach.

‘I know you and Steve had a fling back in the day so I’m only going to ask this once. Is she Steve’s?’ He watches as your eyes fill with tears while you try to swallow away the lump in your throat. It’s as if all the hurt and hardships you’ve been through these past years while raising Sarah suddenly wash over you. You feel your shoulders start to shake as you take your bottom lip between your teeth to keep it from quivering. Bucky’s expression softens and he pulls you into a hug, gently rubbing your back until you calm down. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘His mother asked me not to,’ you softly stammer into his ear as a sob slips from your lips, ‘I thought he was going to stay.’

‘So did I doll, so did I.’ You push off him, holding both his shoulders to keep him away from you. There’s a pit in your stomach as you try to speak but the words don’t seem to be coming out quite right. It takes a few seconds before you manage to form a sentence.

‘You can’t tell him. Please don’t tell him,’ you hear yourself beg with a shaky voice. That’s not what you wanted to say. You want Steve to know but why can’t you do it?

‘I won’t, but there’s something you have to know,’ he tells you as he takes your hand and leads you back to the corner table. His hands take yours and his thumb gently drags over the back of your hand to keep you grounded. ‘Steve is seeing someone.’

He expected you to scream, or at least cry. But you just sit there, frozen, nodding ever so slightly to let him know you understand. Your feelings are on overdrive and at this point you’re not quite sure if you’re even feeling anything.

‘Mommy, are you okay?’ Your eyes dart over to Sarah’s. Your hands move to your eyes to wipe away your tears as you see Bonnie and Connie running into the room to grab the girl.

‘Mommy is fine,’ you tell her as she walks over to you. You pick her up and set her on your lap. ‘But sometimes even mommy has to cry.’

‘Please don’t.’ You push a smile onto your face to appease your little girl.

‘I’ll try not to,’ you tell her, ‘can you go upstairs with Bonnie and Connie a little longer? I have some boring adult things to discuss with Bucky.’ She nods and jumps off your lap, dragging Bonnie and Connie along like she had done mere minutes ago.

‘She is so much like Steve,’ you tell Bucky with a small smile on your face as your eyes linger on the empty staircase, ‘you know, on my brother’s farm she used to try to resolve fights between the animals.’

‘That does sound a lot like Steve,’ Bucky chuckles as he takes her hand again, ‘I hope she doesn’t fight as much as he does.’ You shake your head, a nostalgic look in your eyes. Oh how you remember all the times Bucky had to save Steve’s ass when he got into yet another fight. It got even worse when the two of you were fooling around and a man would look at you wrong. However, you did love him for it. Maybe you still do. You’re not sure.

‘I did want to tell him,’ you say, your voice surprisingly steady, ‘I was about to send him a letter when his mother told me it would be better if I left town.’

‘She told you to leave town?’ You nod.

‘Said it would be better for my safety and the baby and she was right,’ you admit, ‘but I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that I was keeping something from him.’

‘Do you want him to know?’ You nod again and look up at him with a smile.

‘You know, we didn’t have a TV so I didn’t know he was Captain America until Bonnie and Connie told me yesterday,’ you tell him, ‘but it makes sense.’

‘It does. He was always the best of us three.’ Bucky sounds proud as he says it, as he should be. Steve has always been a good man who doesn’t let his judgement be clouded by money and power.

‘She makes my life so much more meaningful,‘ you tell Bucky proudly, ‘I know I never wanted to be a mother but she changed everything. It’s like she’s got all Steve’s good parts but it hurts that she has to withstand name calling just because she doesn’t have a dad. She doesn’t deserve that.’ You look past Bucky onto the busy streets, watching as people walk by. Children are playing on the streets, women are going to the shops, men are reading the paper and smoking, and families... Happy, complete, families walk the sidewalks with smiles on their faces. They don’t have to worry about what others think of them. You wish it was like that for Sarah.

‘Do you want them to meet?’

‘I do but it isn’t fair to either of them to just put them in a room together,’ you tell Bucky, ‘I’d have to face Steve on my own first.’

‘That’s fair, do you want me to bring him around sometime?’ You continue to stare out the window as your eye suddenly fall on someone. You feel like all color is draining from your face. No, this can’t be real. Not right now. ‘Doll?’ You nod towards the window. Bucky turns around to see Steve standing right there, looking in with a grin on his face, happily waving at you. Of course, that would just be your luck. Bucky turns back to you.

‘I can send him away if you need more time.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve got to face him sometime,’ you say with a meek smile. It wipes away when you flinch from the loud bang of the front door slamming against the wall. Steve runs into the room, still wearing a grin on his face.

‘Y/n?’ You get up from your chair to greet him.

‘Hi Steve, good to see you.’ In his excitement, he runs up to you and engulfs you in a hug like you’ve never shared before. He’s so much bigger than you now. It’s almost suffocating but that could also be the nerves. However, the feeling is familiar as is his smell. It’s comforting and warm. Your arms wrap around his waist to hold him close. You’re not sure if you ever want him to let you go but he steps back after a hug that lasts a little too long.

’Jeez, you’re still as beautiful as when I left,’ he smiles.

‘And I thought you were done growing when you left,’ you try to joke, pushing your anxiety aside.

‘I thought so too,’ he says and turns to Bucky to quickly shake his hand in greeting. ‘Did you know she was back?’

‘No, I ran into Bonnie and Connie today. They found out she was back yesterday,’ Bucky tells him. ‘They’re around here somewhere to help clean the bar.’ Steve nods at Bucky’s blatant lie but he doesn’t seem to notice.

‘So, you’re running your uncle’s bar now?’ You nod but Steve can tell that you’re nervous. Your eyes are still red and puffy and he saw you cry when he looked through the window. ‘Are you okay?’ You nod, averting your eyes from him.

‘Sit down, we have to talk,’ you say as you sit back down. He looks confused as he sits down next to Bucky in his usual place. It’s a strange sight. He doesn’t fit into the picture anymore. He’s gotten too big.

‘What is it?’ You take a deep breath.

‘Listen, I can keep running around this but that wouldn’t be fair to you-’

‘You’re making me nervous Y/n.’ His eyes shoot to Bucky but he isn’t giving him anything. In fact, he’s leaning back to show to Steve that this is something between the two of you. He’s just there for moral support.

‘You have a child.’ His jaw drops as he scrambles to find the words to say.

‘I’m sorry, I have a what now?’ Bucky leans forward and hits Steve’s arm.

‘You heard her,’ he snaps, ‘Jesus, don’t you see how much this is taking out of her?’

‘It’s fine Bucky,’ you assure him.

‘Did you know,’ Steve asks Bucky and you feel the situation slipping from your fingers.

‘No, I didn’t know but it isn’t my child.’

‘Stop it,’ you snap. The men look back at you and their faces drop as they watch tears slip onto your cheeks. You grab Steve’s hand from the table. ‘Yes, you have a child. Her name is Sarah Josephine Y/l/n. I couldn’t call her Rogers because we’re not married but I thought you’d like that name for her.’

‘I do, but why am I only hearing this now,’ he asks, obviously confused and stressed. Suddenly, there is the weight of being a runaway dad on his shoulders. Even if he didn’t know about the child’s existence up until now, he still doesn’t like it.

‘Your mother asked me to move away from the city for the safety of the child,’ you explain to him, ‘and I didn’t know how to reach you. I mean, damn, I didn’t even know you changed this much.’ Steve stays quiet for a while, looking at his hand in yours as your thumb gently strokes over his skin. Your hands had always been smaller than his and he always liked how they looked next to his but for some reason he feels strange because of your touch.

‘Can I see her?’ You look from Steve to Bucky, your eyes carry worry as you wipe away your tears.

‘I don’t know. She’s already met so many new people today, it might-’ Steve squeezes your hand gently and looks up at you with hopeful eyes. Eyes that she has never been able to say no to.

‘Please?’ You sigh, taking a second to collect yourself. Why did it have to be him?

‘I just need to know one thing,’ you state, not daring to look into his eyes, ‘I know you’re dating someone but if I let you meet her, will you stay in her life? Because I can’t introduce her to her dad and then tell her that she never gets to see him again. It would break her heart.’ His hand gently slips under her chin, pushing her head up slightly so she’s looking at him.

‘I promise.’ You take a deep breath and let go of his hand as you put your pinky up.

‘Pinky promise?’ A smile spreads on his face as he hooks his pinky onto hers like he had done a thousand times before. When he promised to pick her up from somewhere, when he promised he’d stay loyal to her when going out with Bucky, when he promised he’d come back to her after the war. That last one is the only one he hadn’t made true yet.

‘Pinky promise.’ You nod, a small smile on your lips as your pinky slips from his. He watches as you walk over to the staircase and disappear for a little. When you reappear, you’re carrying a little girl. Eyes as blue as his, golden locks draping over her shoulders, and a tiny stature.

‘Sarah, I want you to meet someone,’ you tell your daughter with a gentle smile, ‘this is Steve Rogers.’ You put her down in the middle of the bar, letting her choose what to do. You watch as her eyes widen at the sight of Steve. She knows of Steve Rogers. You told her about him.

As his eyes meet those of Sarah, he gets up from his chair so fast the thing falls onto the floor, scaring Sarah into hiding behind you. His eyes fill with hurt as he watches her hide and he gets on his knees to be more on eye level with Sarah.

‘But mommy, he isn’t scrawny at all.’ You let out a laugh and kneel down next to her, putting your hand on her shoulder.

‘Scrawny? Really?’ Steve bellows a soft laugh as you shrug.

‘He was really scrawny when he was younger,’ you reassure Sarah, ‘he just got bigger.’ She wraps her hands around your arm for security as she looks at him.

‘Are you so big from fighting bad guys?’ You nod vigorously at Steve in hopes that he gets the hints.

‘Yes,’ he says with a gentle smile. That seems to put Sarah’s nerves at ease a little. She takes a step away from her and a step closer to Steve.

‘Are you a soldier?’

‘I’m a captain,’ he tells her proudly. Sarah nods, pretending to understand him as she takes another step closer.

‘Are you going to stay? Because mommy told me you weren’t with us because you had to fight bad guys in the war.’

‘Well, the war is over,’ he tells her as he peeks past Sarah at you, ‘so I think I’ll stick around a while.’ Sarah takes the last few steps towards him and puts her pinky up to him.

‘Pinky promise?’ He smiles at her and hooks her pinky onto hers, marveling at the size difference of their hands. That’s his daughter. His little girl. And just behind her is her mother. You, the amazing woman that he admired from the second he laid eyes on you.

There’s nothing in this wide, wide world that could keep him away from the two of you. And as he looks back at you and watches a tear slip onto your cheek again, he knows you know too.

‘Pinky promise.’

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #711: Very Green Day (Kingdom Hearts)

10:45 a.m. Outside of the Coffee Place in Traverse Town........

Aqua/Terra: (Burst Out Laughing at What is in Front of Both of Them) AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Lea: (Stares at the Laughing Couple in an Annoyed Manner.....All While is Hair is Dyed Completely Green) ............... (Slowly Turns his Head to Isa) Why didn't you let me say home today?

Isa: (Calmly Reads his Book While Ignoring the Look Lea is Giving Him) Cause Aqua and Terra would be worried if you didn't show up.

Lea: One day of me not meeting up with you guys here wouldn't kill anyone. And besides, they're laughing like a bunch of loons here!

Isa: Well, consider this punishment for trying dye your hair green. (Casually Sips on his Cup of Coffee)

Lea: (Glares at Isa) Well, excuse me for not wanting to get pinched 24/7!

Aqua: (Trying her Best to Calm Herself Down) Oho, Lea!~ We're sorry. (Wipe a Tear from her Eyes) We didn't mean to laugh at you like that.

Terra: (Tries Calming Down as Well) Yeah. (Snickers a Little) We were just....Really caught off guard by that brand new color of that hair of yours. What gives?

Lea: (Sighs as he Turns Back to Aqua and Terra) Well, if you two lovebirds must know, I've been wanting to prevent myself from getting pinched by the two numbskulls that happens to be my kids. (Starts Rubbing the Back of his Hair Back & Forth) So I figured I would try and....dye the very front of my hair green for a while. At least until the holiday is over and done with.

Isa: But once he tried doing that, with little to no knowledge of how to properly dye parts of his hair and without asking name for assistance, he somehow to get his entire hair green. Thus, his own stupidity has grown immensely stronger than before.

Lea: (Turns Back to Isa With Anger in his Eyes) OH AND LIKE YOU HAVEN'T TRY AND DID ANYTHING STUPID IN YOUR CRUMMY LIFETIME!!!

Isa: While I'll admit that I have done some reckless, idiotic things from time to time, but at least I wasn't dumb enough to try dying my own hair color for a simple holiday. Just goes to show you that your own stupidity knows no bounds to almost anything. (Takes Another Sip of his Coffee)

Lea: (Hands Shaking in Anger While Growling) You..... Smartass piece of-

Terra: Lea, come on. Just try and calm down for us, okay?

Aqua: Terra's right. We didn't mean to laugh at you earlier. (Smiles Softly) The hair color really does look nice on you.

Lea: (Sighs as He Turns to the Couple in Front of Him) I admire and am thankful for your kind and honest hearts. (Glares Back at Isa) At least you didn't sit here and belittle me for a couple of minutes like an asshole!

Isa: Love you too, Lea.

Terra: Well, look on the brighter side, at least the day it couldn't get any worse for you-

?????: ('GASPS') AXEL!!!!?

Everyone in the table turns around and see Kairi with a very surprised and horror look on her face.

Lea: Uh. (Smiles Very Awkwardly at Kairi) Heyyyyyyyyyy there, lil.sis! Good morning! (Chuckles Awkwardly) How are you today?

Kairi: (Almost at a Loss of Words) Y-Y-Y-Your hair.........

Lea: Oh! You mean this bad boy? ('Heh') Funny story about this actually. You see, I-

Isa: Your brother thought it be a good idea to dyed his hair green for St. Patrick's Day.

Lea: (Glares Back at Isa While Silently Growling at Him) Do you SERIOUSLY not know the concept of shutting up?!

Isa: (Simply Shrugs) Just telling the honest truth here, my dear.

Lea: Yeah, but I don't want Kairi to know about all of tha-

Kairi: Axel.........

Lea: (Slowly Turns Back to Kairi and Immediately Gets Terrified Once He Sees the Scary, Angry Look in her Eyes)

Kairi: Explain.......

Lea: O-Okay, sis? I know this might be the most stupidest thing I have ever done in life.... B-B-But I only did this to save myself from getting pinched today! I swear to god!!

Kairi: So..... your idea of being green for the holiday IS TO DYE YOUR OWN HAIR COLOR!!!?

Lea: Well, I mean..........When you put it like that....(Chuckles a Little Bit Awkwardly) It almost sounds blike a bad th-

Kairi: IT IS A BAD THING!!!! I mean, seriously! You could've brought yourself a green shirt! You could've ask ME to get you a green shirt, matching ones even! NOT DYE YOUR HAIR IN A PUKEIST GREEN COLOR!!!

Lea: Ah come on, Kairi! It doesn't look that bad!

Kairi: Lea, I JUST did your hair weeks ago!

Aqua: Aww~

Kairi: Your hair was already beautiful as it is! And now you did all this and just.....('UGGGGHHH') (Makes her Way to her Big Brother) C'mere, you!

Lea: Woah woah woah, hold on a second! What are you- GAHH! (Winches in Pains As Kairi Pulls his Ear, Making him Get Up From the Table) Not the ear! Not the ear!!

Kairi: (Angrily Walks Away from the Table While Dragging Lea Along with Her) You are coming with me!

Lea: Jesus Christ, sis! Where are we even going!?

Kairi: To my place! We are NOT going back to town till I change EVERY SPECK of your hair back to their original color!!!

Lea: (Turns to Isa and the Others) Guys!!? H-HELP!!!!

Isa: Ah. I wish I could but....(Holds Up the Book he Was Reading) I'm not finished reading this book yet.

Terra: (Smiles Sheepishly While Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) Plus, we're not entirely done with our cup of coffee yet so uh.......(Slowly Shrugs) Sorry!

Lea: (Glares at Three of his Friends While Still Being Dragged in the Ear by Kairi From a Bit of a Distance) Screw you guys!! All of you SUCK!!!!

Aqua: (Happily Waves Goodbye to Lea) We love you too, Lea!~ We hope you and Kairi have a good time together!

Terra: (Sighs as He and the Others See Lea and Kairi Are Already Off into the Distance) We're terrible, aren't we?

Aqua: I hope Lea isn't too mad at us for not helping him.

Isa: I wouldn't worry too much about him really. He'll be able to get over it eventually.

Terra: You know, it still kind of baffles me how people takes this whole "Pinching Those Whose Don't Wear Green" Rule that seriously nowadays.

Aqua: ('Sigh') I'm just glad that all of our children doesn't participate in that kind nonsense. Isn't that right, Vantias? (Sips on her Cup of Coffee)

And with that, Vantias immediately ran back to the dark portal while wearing a green shirt.

Happy (Late) St. Patrick's Day Everyone!

@26shann

@keyenuta

@khtext

@caleb13frede

@albion-93

@ma-lemons

@cyber-wildcat

[exhaustedfander]

Hideaway: Chapter Five

a03 link

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / ?

Word Count: 2,759

It would be a lie to say Patton isn’t absolutely terrified. Of course, he was worried the moment Logan and Roman were nowhere to be found. Of course, he was panicked when he and Virgil went looking for them, only to realize nothing was turning up. It’s as though they scattered on the wind, gone without a trace.

But Virgil was just so scared. Patton voicing his concerns was only going to make things worse, and things had been off between them as it was. Besides, he wasn’t very good at hiding his worries, anyhow. It was hard to imagine that Virgil hadn’t picked up on it, so there was no reason to actually say it aloud.

They should’ve gone to see Janus and Remus sooner. He knows they should’ve. It’s just… Janus, Remus, and Virgil aren’t exactly three peas in a pod. Patton’s been nervous to ask Janus exactly what went on between him and Virgil. And Virgil hasn’t responded well to the question, so he’s backed off. No reason to rock the boat.

And Remus. Well, it would be a lie to say Patton’s 100% comfortable around him. That isn’t to say that things haven’t been better; as he’s Janus’s best friend, Patton’s played as nice as he can, certainly nicer than Remus has. But approaching the both of them with Virgil, who’s already so against working with them is not ideal, to say the least.

But what choice have they got?

Virgil knocks hard and insistent on Janus’s door. After a few moments, in swings open, the look on Janus’s face hard and cold when he catches sight of Virgil.

“Virgil,” he regards, voice stiff, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Where are Roman and Logan?” Virgil asks like it’s an accusation. Maybe it is, Patton realizes. The thought certainly never once crossed his mind, but it seems Virgil’s stuck on it.

“I beg your pardon?”

“They’ve gone missing,” Patton interjects quickly, not intent on an altercation of some kind breaking out. Janus’s expression softens the moment he sees Patton over Virgil’s shoulders and, goodness, this really isn’t the time for Patton’s heart to flutter, now is it?

“Hello, Patton,” he says smoothly, and yeah, Patton’s heart is skipping a beat, situation be damned. How can he not when Janus looks at him like that, all soft and kind? “Would you two like to come in? Remus and I were just finishing up a game of chess.”

“Remus plays chess?” Patton asks. Janus shakes his head, stepping aside and allowing the two entrance.

“No. But he does like to eat the pieces.”

“You,” Virgil says pointedly, eyes narrowing at Remus sitting on Janus’s bed, a chess piece between his teeth. “Where the hell is your brother? Where’s Logan?”

Remus spits the piece out on the duvet, half-eaten, and smiles, demented and wide.

“Are they missing or something?”

“Seriously; where the fuck are they?” Virgil asks, not backing down.

“I haven’t killed him if that’s what you’re suggesting. Not for a lack of trying, mind you. But I haven’t hurt a head on his prissy little head, nor the resident nerd with a stick-up-his-ass. In fact, I haven’t seen them at all for a few days.”

“And you didn’t think that was kind of odd?”

Remus shrugs, collapsing onto the bed like a heap of boneless flesh.

“I’m not exactly making an effort to spend time with him, in case you haven’t noticed. And nerdy wolverine’s okay if way too uptight, but I wasn’t worried about it. Been pretty quiet around here lately; the perfect time for chaos, isn’t it?”

“You say you can’t find them?” Janus interjects, directing the question at Patton. The fatherly figment nods nervously, eyes darting between Virgil and Janus.

“Yes. At first, I figured maybe they just needed a little space since, well… you know.”

Janus does. It’s not as though he’s unaware of the tensions that has hung thick between, he and Roman, and the tension Logan’s clearly been dealing with. And that isn’t even beginning to cover Virgil.

“Anyway, we’ve been looking, and looking, but –.”

“We can’t find them,” Virgil interrupts, clearly not in the mood for any nonsense, “Do you two have any idea where they might be?” Remus lets out a laugh, long and loud, as though the prospect of Logan and Roman being missing is just too hilarious. “Hey, what’s your problem, man?”

“Remus,” Janus says, casting a wary gaze at his friend, “I’m not sure now is the time for laughter.”

“Of course, now is the time for laughter! This is fucking hilarious! You mean to tell me that Roman, the golden boy, Thomas’s hero, has up and left! And – and not just that: Logan’s gone with him! Logic has literally left the building!”

“Remus, this is serious,” Patton chastises, his voice booming in a far more serious tone than usual. The change in tone seems to startle those in the room, even Remus, to a degree.

“Yeah, maybe. But it’s still funny as shit.”

“And you don’t have any idea where they are?” Virgil asks Remus with narrowed eyes.

“I give you my word. Haven’t seen em.” “How much is your word worth, exactly?” “Not much.”

“UGH!”

“Kid- Virgil,” Patton says, remembering that fateful conversation, remembering how Virgil doesn’t want to be called such things, and remembering how much he’s already slipped up, “It’s gonna be okay. We’re going to find them. Just because Remus doesn’t know where they are doesn’t mean things are hopeless.”

“How long have they been missing?” Janus asks. Virgil turns to him, a fire in his eyes.

“Two. Days.” The expression that spreads over Janus’s face betrays deepening worry. It seems the severity of things is beginning to click.

“My god.”

“How did you two not notice something was up? Thomas has been acting all… well, he doesn’t have his creativity or his logic! He kind of fucking needs those things.”

“Hey, I’m still here!” Remus points out, as though he’s ever been granted much creative control. The comment goes ignored.

“In all fairness, Remus and I have not played nearly as major or a role in Thomas’s role as you all have,” Janus says, “I hadn’t noticed anything too out of the ordinary, and there had been no need for any lying to take place in the last few days. I do wish you’d come to us sooner.”

“That’s a no-good excuse and you know it,” Virgil snarls, “It doesn’t take a genius to see that something’s up.”

“You think I’ve been paying much attention to Thomas for most of my existence? Not like he was paying attention to me,” Remus says, getting up from where he’d flopped over on the bed, trying to hide the resentment in his voice. It’s there all the same, blistering and heated, and Patton wants to say something. He feels like he should like Remus is clearly going through something, and he has experience with bottling things up, and Remus isn’t the type to do a thing like that, and –

There isn’t time for that right now, is there? Later, maybe. But not now. Janus is resting a hand on Remus’s shoulder, the look in the deceitful side’s eyes so unbearably soft that Patton feels, for a fraction of a second, a pang of jealousy. It’s stupid and unfounded, of course. He’s comforting his friend, for Christ’s sake, something Patton had wanted to do just a moment ago. Besides, despite how kind the expression on his face is, it does little to compare to the way he’s been looking at Patton lately. And, oh gosh, he can’t help but get distracted by the thought. He needs to stay focused.

Remus bats Janus’s hand away, looking dejected and furious, though not towards him.

“Remus, Janus,” Janus perks up at the mention of his name, “Please. We just need to stay calm and put our heads together. Do you have any idea where Logan and Roman might be?”

Remus’s sullen expression quickly morphs to one of glee. Suddenly, all eyes are on The Duke.

“What the hell? Why’re you smiling like that?!” Virgil asks, anger quickly brimming.

“You don’t have any idea where they could be in the Mindspace? Nowhere at all?”

“Remus, you said you didn’t know where they were,” Janus says, concern inching into his voice, “You haven’t mentioned anything. Do you know something that we don’t?”

“Come on. I know Logan’s not here but use those brains! I don’t know exactly where they might be, but if you can’t find them anyplace, where is there left to look?”

A pause lingers between the four for a moment before Patton speaks, voice quiet and awed.

“The – the Imagination?” Remus claps obnoxiously loudly.

“Very good, Pattycake! Very good!”

“Wait… you think. You think Logan and Roman are hiding in The Imagination?” Virgil asks anger and suspicion giving way to fear.

“Well, where else could they be? Thomma-lama-ding-dong isn’t completely without his logic and creativity, is he?” “Well no…” “So we know they haven’t croaked! But if their influence has been lessened, and you’ve searched absolutely everywhere else, then there’s your answer. There in Roman’s side of The Imagination.”

“Why would they be hiding? Why would they spend so much time there?” “Beats me. But by the sounds of that conversation you all recently had, I don’t imagine Ro’s ego is doing so hot. And Logan well, pshh, he’s always been a high-strung one, hasn’t he? He could really use a good lay.”

“Remus!” Patton gasps as if it’s of the more shocking things he’s heard Remus say.

“Come to think of it…” he says with a pause, snapping his fingers when the connection strikes, “That might be why he went with Roman, right? I mean they’re obviously desperate to get into each other’s pants. I mean, you could cut the sexual tension with a fucking knife!”

Virgil and Janus groan in unison, finally having found something they can agree on for once, not that they’re willing to acknowledge it; meanwhile, Patton is doing something far more concerning: considering Remus’s perspective.

“Come on man, that’s disgusting.”

“No he’s… he’s got a point.”

“What? Pat you- you can’t be serious,” Virgil sputters. Janus looks just as confused.

“Not- not about all the sex stuff!” Patton defends, hands in the air, and Remus sing-song the words “Whatever you sayyy~,” “But about Logan and Roman, uh, teaming-up, I guess. I mean, they’ve clearly been connecting more lately. They depend on each other. And…” Patton pauses, his features momentarily marred with sorrow before he shakes his head, “…and things have been a little tense lately. So… so they might’ve needed some time to cool off. And so they left.”

“You say they’ve been gone for two days now?” Janus asks and Patton nods solemnly. “Oh dear. That can’t be good.”

“Yeah, no shit!” Virgil says, beginning to look a little worse-for-wear, his breathing becoming quick and erratic.

“Hey, hey, Virgil. It’s going to be okay,” Patton says, moving to reach for the anxious side’s hand, “Can you breathe with me? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Yeah, that’s good. Just like that. Keep breathing.”

It takes a few moments to calm Virgil down; all the while Janus and Remus talk quietly amongst themselves (remarkably quiet on Remus’s part).

“Are you okay?” Patton asks softly. Virgil nods, still a little peaked, but his breathing has evened out.

“Yeah. Thanks for that…”

“Of course.” He turns to Remus and Janus, seeing the look of hesitance on both of their faces. Oh dear, that can’t be good. “What were you two just chattering about?” Janus lets out a long sigh.

“Remus has come up with an idea for a next move, and I think he’s on the right track.” From the sound of hesitation in Janus’s voice, and the fact that Remus had come up with the idea wasn’t shaping up to be good.

“What is it…?”

“Someone needs to go in and find them.” Patton frowns, wringing his hands.

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea? What if they want to be left alone?” Janus exhales softly, striding up to Patton and grabbing his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I’m all for self-care and taking time for oneself. But this… Pat, honey, this is too far. Thomas can’t just be without Roman and Logan for as long as they please, especially seeing as they didn’t inform anyone of their plans beforehand. They need to be here.” Patton casts his gaze downwards, fear worming its way through him. He’s faintly aware of the fact that this is the first time Janus has called him ‘honey’ in front of Virgil, but he hardly has the energy to care. It was going to come up at some point, anyhow.

“But what if they’re angry with us? What if they don’t want to be found?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. What’s important is that they're brought home.”

“But… we can’t all go, can we? We can’t all leave Thomas mostly unattended.”

“Exactly,” Remus pipes in, suddenly standing alarming close, “Which is why I’m going. I’ll drag em kicking and screaming if need be!” Patton can’t help but shudder at the image. “Oh, and Virgil’s coming too.” “What???” Virgil’s eyes widen as everyone looks in his direction.

“N-no way! I’m not wandering into The Imagination with Remus! It’s his realm! Doesn’t he have that covered?!”

“Heightened levels of anxiety without logic to balance things out could cause Thomas unneeded distress,” Janus explains mater-o-factly.

“You’re just saying that! But I assume Patton’s staying?” “Thomas wouldn’t be very well-off with deceit alone, now would he?” Virgil groans into his hands, glancing at Patton.

“Are you seriously on-board with this? Really?”

“Virgil…” Patton sighs. “Remus might very well need your help. I don’t know what kind of situation you two will be facing, and I’d offer to come too. Really, I don’t like the idea of you two going alone. But Jan’s right; we can’t all leave Thomas unattended.”

“Right you are, Patton. Besides, I might need another person to help me drag them out kicking and screaming!”

“We’re not – UGH! None of that is happening. Patton, can I talk to you for a second?” Virgil says, casting an anxious glare at Janus and Remus, “In private.”

“Sure thing.” The pair step out into the hall, shutting the door behind them.

“Patton this – this is fucking insane!”

“I know this is a lot to process… believe me, it’s not the first plan I’d go for. But Virgil, I don’t know what other options we have. I don’t want this any more than you do, but we need to do something.”

"And you really trust him? You trust Deceit and you to be the only ones in charge while we’re gone?” Patton nods despite the uneasy look in the anxious side’s eyes.

“I do. We haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but I trust him with this.”

“And- and you’d tell me if anything bad happened between you two? Anything at all, even if you didn’t think it was that big of a deal?”

“Of course. Virgil, has Janus ever… has he…” He can’t even get the words out, but to his relief, Virgil shakes his head.

“He’s never done anything to hurt me. We just, we don’t get along, okay? I don’t like him; you know I don’t like him.”

“I do.”

“And I don’t like this plan, either. It’s stupid and uncertain, and…” Virgil sighs, “and the only plan we’ve got. So… fine, I guess if it’s the only thing we can do, yeah. Okay.”

“Oh, thank you, Virgil,” Patton says, throwing his arms around Virgil in a crushing embrace. The emo gasps before hugging back, feeling Patton begin to tremble. “Promise me you and Remus will be careful?”

“I don’t know about Remus, but I swear I’ll be careful. And,” Virgil exhales sharply, “I’ll keep an eye on him. No promises though.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Patton says, “And if there’s any trouble, you’ll leave to come and get us? We won’t leave Thomas unless it’s an emergency, but if it is an emergency, please, get help.”

“I promise.”

Patton releases Virgil from his death-grip, fear still written all over his face. Both of their faces, really.

Within a bit more time for planning, Remus and Virgil leave Patton and Janus to their own devices, Virgil begrudgingly following Remus into The Imagination. The perils they are to face are unlike that Remus had ever encountered in Roman’s half of The Imagination. Despite all that they believe about this rescue mission, they may very well be in for far more than they bargained for.

=+=

General Taglist:

@nadiestar 

@unoriginalgayboyalex  

@bella-in-a-bag

@igonnatalknothing

@elizabutgayer

@wishthefish916

@reptilianwithscallions 

Hideaway taglist: 

@tryingtobts

@rainbowsixth  

@orchidstanlogan 

[wispandwhispers]

moonboy

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, qpr dukeceit

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tw(s): Cursing, torture, blood, slightly unsympathetic remy for a bit, implied unrequited love, crying.

Words: 4412

Notes: This is so late I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna write for the next week. Christ.

The moment Roman pulled away, Virgil slapped him across the face.

"Why did you do that?" Lunapuer's query came out in staggered breaths, the type filled by adrenaline. He backed away from the other slowly. "Why. Did. You. Do. That?"

Shit. Should of asked for consent first.

"I don't know really, I thought that It would be romantic?"

The emo has started to pace around the room, "This doesn't make sense. You  hate me. You despise the fact I breathe, you design a personalised ring of Dante's inferno to try and drive me to my tipping point." He whipped his head to face Roman, eyes voids of chaotic madness, of stars and nebulas and galaxies and everything beyond. The couch, coffee table and various other furniture had begun to slowly rise into the air, shaking with the distress that the boy must feel and almost primed to obliterate whatever was causing Virgil distress.

If I touched one of those floaty things, would get the galaxy on me?

"Why the fuck would you kiss me?" The tension wasn't thick, it was more sluggish. Harder to move through, harder to navigate and so much harder to leave. Roman was starting to feel ..disturbed ..by this and maybe he was starting to realise that Lunaper was..not normal.

Wait Lunapuer. Luna Puer. Moon Child. What?

"What..are you?"

A long lingering glare.

"I think it would be time for you to stare into my -"

The sound of a metal knocker hitting  wood to the tune of One Jump Ahead interrupted the emo's train of thought.

Virgil eyes died down, putting his planned smiting on hold. He walked over to the source of the knocking and opened the front door to be met with a kid who couldn't be just anything more than a year older than him. And he wasn't being Xia's older brother.

Recognising him, Roman got off the floor and ran up to him, wrapping him in a hug. The boy hugged him back.

"Thomas, you know I love you but why exactly are you here?"

"I'll answer that when you tell me who you brought home. And why the couch is floating. But first the boy?"

Xia gave the emo a shaky grin, trying to mentally concoct a sentence that wouldn't immediately get him killed.

"Umm, Thomas this is Virgil, Virgil this is Thomas."

Despite Virgil only putting his hand out for a hand sake, Xia's cup his face and stare into his eyes.

"How 'bout on the beach...."

"On the beach for what?"

"For the wedd...," He noticed  Roman's 'Not now' hand signal "..ling. Yeah for Wedling."

Thomas ignored the emo's confused facial expression.

"Anyway, Dad  wants me to babysit you."

"What the fuck, I'm sixteen, I don't need supervision. I'm practically an adult."

(Thomas crouched down slightly so he was on Roman's eye level. "You and me both know that we barely have the cooking skills to cook a cup of ramen.")

("Ha, I'm calling you Ramen now, you don't have a choice.")

Thomas stood back up.

"That's what I said, but Remus' is going to need a fucking good lawyer for him to have a chance to see the light of day again."

"That bad? God.."

While the family was trying to figure out what they were going to do, Virgil put back on his jacket.

"Not to interrupt this lovely familial bonding moment but Remus isn't going to need a lawyer."

Thomas looked over to Virgil in shock.

"Oh yeah, Virgil, meet my elder brother Thomas and Thomas meet my ex- arch nemesis, who recently tried to kill/brainwash me, Virgil."

****

"It's my car, why can't I drive?"

Lunaper opened the clicked it open with his key.

"Without me, you won't be able to find Remy , ergo you won't be able to prove your brother's innocence . Also you've put me in a bad mood, so if you don't want me to finish what I started in the living room, I suggest you shut up."

During the emo's rant, the car had proceeded to float about a foot of the ground and the lifter's eyes seemed to be smoking with cosmos.

("I call shotgun!" Thomas ran to the front seat like a child.)

Roman, you can't get yourself killed, you haven't married him.

Xia climbed into the backseat.

"Fine but be gentle with it."

("I'll be gentle until I have to be rough with it.")

("What?")

(Virgil didn't respond.)

******

(Roman and Thomas talk to each other in the back about men.)

ThomasTheDankEngine: ...you're a bottom..

I'mRoyalty: Wtf, why would you even assume that?

ThomasTheDankEngine: So I didn't walk into a scene in the room? Cause you really seem to like him at least from what I've gathered (aha, you didn't deny liking him though)

I'mRoyalty:  (Yes, I am attracted to the most beautiful creation on earth, leave me alone )You were barely in the house for 5 minutes,you couldn't have gathered any 'data'

ThomasTheDankEngine: The 'data' I have collected is the visuals of your eyes undressing him, you horny bastard.

I'mRoyalty: Hey, at least I'm not a Remus level of horny

ThomasTheDankEngine : Fair enough. On a different note, you are aware that your crush isn't even hitting the gas pedal. He's just staring at the road and moving the steering wheel. I'm calling it now, he's an alien

I'mRoyalty: Tbh, I don't think he even knows what he is. And I don't really care, I just want to kiss him. And marry him. And all that other couple stuff.

******

"Um, Virgil, why are we at the Station?"

"I don't know either..."

Unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping outside into the semi cool spring air, the trio made there way over to the police station door.

"Shit, is Pa actually crying?"

"Yeah, he's not doing that well.."

Thomas turned the younger.

"Okay, lets go in before I have an attack over this."

Roman could almost see Lunapuer eyes widen in realisation of something. Roman couldn't put his finger on it.

He isn't moving..

"Hey, Virgil, aren't you coming with us?"

The emo's neck turned.

"To your parents, I'm just some random ass kid with glitchy irises. I'm not immediate family so I don't have a fucking right to be inside."

"You'll be ok though?"

"Is that even a question. I'm never ok, I promise."

*****

The squeaky floors of the centre made Roman feel uncomfortable ,like they had to always clear up...something.

(He would leave the empty gap up to his brother. It was more his forte.)

Walking pass the seemingly pissed officer (who let them move after they were patted down and had stayed their full names, they were met with the face of -

Dad spotted us, time to use those lessons from Jan now.

Their Dad ran up to them and held there faces, almost like they would fade away into nothingness the minute they let go.

"Why the flipping fuck are you here?"

Okay, Dad can curse, my life is a lie.

"Me And Thomas wanted to see Remus." Roman stopped on his elder's foot, code for 'play along'.

The parent stepped back and only know he could see his Dad's dishevelled hair that was rash and messed up that looked like the type you would have after years on end of stress despite the fact when it was neat hours ago.

"Look, I would prefer you here for moral support and all that jazz but your brother and his partner have basically secured their cell, they keep on ranting about how there was a lemon fic -whatever that means- about you and hypnotism and Remington apparently being the reason why they are in this fucking mess- DO YOU ANY IDEA WHAT THIS NONSENSE MEANS!"

I know what it means but I don't need to chucked to Picani's for a session.

Thomas seemed to get the 'we got the information we need, let's roll' signal.

"Oh, shit, I think I left the the oven running, Roman let's roll."

("I new that theatre major would come in handy.")

"Come back when you're done!"

("Anyway, I don't understand what's happening or what you know so you fill him in."

"Okay!"

("I don't really have a choice anyway.")

******

"Get in the fucking car, we are going to cut a bitch."

******

Virgil parked the car at the opposite side of the road.He slammed it so hard that it dented its inside and he had probably broken the door, but Roman wasn't going to comment about that because he feared the earth that was contained in his crush.

He rushed over to Zenith who was laying in the sand of the bay, casually scrolling through his feed with a Starbucks cup in hand and not like the government had just pronounced him dead.

He noticed the angry man in purple charging towards him.

"Virgie, did you see-"

"Cut me none of that 'Virgie' bullshit Remington, you blackmailed someone into silence, you know you aren't allowed to abuse you abilities like that."

Remy pushed down the bridge of sunglasses, revealing his eyes that seemed even more chaotic than Lunapuer's but floating with clouds instead of space.

"This isn't some game anymore, people I care-"

("You care about my brother and Janus")

("While you were being a shit bag to me, I had to find someone who would show me where my classrooms were.")

"back to what I was saying- People I care about are going to suffer serious consequences for crap you should pay the price for-wait, why did Jan and Rem even try to drown you in the first place?"

The glasses are off, what does it mean?

"Cousin, if you think you are big enough to say my full name then you are big enough to deal with the consequences of my coffee break."

("Why the fuck are you having coffee so late?")

("You've seen me off caffeine. I'm not exactly a sane person."

"I don't even want to fight you because I might actually kill you."

Remy looked over his shoulder to see the setting sun glistening over the water he was supposedly dead in.

"(Oh, shit) Look, cuz-"

Where Virgil's eye sockets should be were replaced with a empty caverns of galaxy that was literally choking his cousin. The tendrils of the universe snaked up his neck and grasped onto it.

"C͈̈́Á͖͔͊L̢̖̘̎̄̉̿̓͟͢L̢̢̽̆ ͚͔̩̀̿̒MȆ̡̢̛̖͖̇͞ ̰̠̘̫͑̎̈́̄A ͇̖̙̽̐̓Ñ̜I̡̢͉̝͌̒̌̎C̗͛K̰͊Ň͔̮̘͚͙̎͗̇̄Ȃ̧̱̩͌̓M̰̙̰̿̉͡Ȩ̗̅͛ ̗̒O̡̡̟̜͛̄̃̽NE̗͉͇̿̎͌ ̩̲͛̆̽͟M̹̬͖̔̕̕O̮͖͍̝͑̈̓͆̽͢Ṟ̢̙̊̔̃E ̨̘͆̍T͇͐Ḭ͎̼͛̅̂M̻̠̩̾̆̈́E, ͔̥̭̜̎̽̄͡I͉͎̟̒̅̎͞ͅ ̛̛͉̼̪͇̎͡D̨̩̋̀A̼̒R̺͠E̬͎̓́ ͓̰̭͓͛͋͊͡Ÿ̙̭̱̐̊Ò͖͚̞͑̊̕ͅỦ̙̻̌!"

("So you have a a crush on a homicidal mystery man who is also a magical boy?")

(Roman just glared at his brother.)

"I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU FROM HIM!"

The turn of a necks in synchrony shattered the waves of the river bed they were on. Time was an illusion and two seconds could of passed and no one could tell the difference.

Zenith decided to break the peace.

"LOOK, I CARE ABOUT YOU, I ACTUALLY DO AND I'M NOT GONNA YOU FALL FOR A HEARTBREAKER ON MY WATCH!"

Virgil likes me back. VIRGIL ACTUALLY LIKES ME BACK!?

Lunapuer eyebrow lowered in concentration almost.

"N͙̤̹͚͂͌͐̕O͍͡ M̧͍̲̓̍̇Ą̠̻̤́̈̿́T͔̣̾͐T͓̙͉̈́̀̍Ę̥̠̻͚̏̍̓͊͝R̙̺̠̯̾̑̾̕ ̥̱̋̂Ẅ̨̞̜̉̊HAT̡̥͇͂́̈́̕͜ ̮͖͙̼̻̓̑̕̕͝R̨͓̾̓Ã͔͔̰̻̫͆̃͐̂ME̫͔̻̻͗̑́͡N͈̱̒͑ ̲̗̣̓́̌̆͜Ḋ̠ID ͍̻̣͕̎̍͂͡T̬̙̩̓̀͑O̙̘̻̓̍͂ ͙̺͈͈̀̃̀̑̽͟Y̺̖̖̻̍͛̋͛Ǒ̦͖̀̂͢U̱͊,̤͓͂̉ ̘̳̄̊��̥̺̕T̠͂ ͔͚͋̑D̲̀̑͢OĚ̝̝̣̏̊S̖̆N̲͕̕͞'̛͙̝̜̎͐T̨̲̲͉͒͆̂̍ ̝̭̬͕̾̈́̌͡Ģ̊I̢̢͍͊͐̊VE̥͕̾͛ ̝͌Ỹ̨̪͕͕̒̋̿OŮ̩͕̯̆̍ ̧̩̗̙̒̑͋̚A̘̜̙͊͝͝Ņ͉̽͆̈́͟Ý̞̣͔̩̂̄͠ ̯̀RI̲͚͔͔̔͆̃́Ģ̲̫̈̔̕HṬ̓ ͙̼͚̫̱͆̒͐͠͡Ţ͈͇͗͑̈O ̹̹̹͂̀͂D̛̠̖̍̅͟O̧͔͗͠ ̛̦W̖͇̹̮͊̌̊͆H͎̉A̩̫͇̽̅͊͜͠T̬̙͔̞̑͛͑̈́͗͢ ̖͖͉͂̆̈Y̯͚͓̜̣̆̈̀͊͊O̡̅Ṳ̜͕̈́̔͆ ̢̤̞͆̕͝D̢̡͈͙̤͗͊̃̽̍I̛͕̱̾D̯̃̓͟!"

The gripping got tighter.

"Plea-se, pleas-e, I am fully aware I am a cunt pile and don't even deserve redemption in the slightest, but let me live and maybe I can make it up to you."

For a single second, it looked like Virgil was genuinely going to finish off the job that Rem and Jan failed to do. But me showed mercy.

His eyes died down.

"Get in the back, use your powers to make today seem like one long ass fever dream, help us break Re and Jay out of prison and maybe you'll see the sunrise."

Remington picked up his shades and went to the back seat.

'Ramen' was shocked.

"Why exactly did you let him go?"

"As long as the moon is out, He will be the one worrying."

******

"Psst, Janus!"

No response.

"La Snits!"

"Remus had spiked my drink and I was high off my ass, wait why are you here?"

Janus turned his head to be met with Roman who was currently picking the lock on his cell.

"I'm getting really sick and tired of people asking that."

The lock mechanisms chimed open.

"Okay, listen: Virgil and Remy have powers that I don't even think they know how to control and are using them to put the whole town asleep. Your hypnotism made me have a 'veil' and made me hate Virgil for about two months. I'm back to normal now. Remy has apologised for blackmailing me and has promised to destroy you-know-what. And- What what happened to your face?"

Xia just noticed Vales face that a scar the look creepily akin to snake scales. It covered about half of it and it was still bleeding, not even looking like it would scab over.

"There is more than one reason why I am Zeneith's body should be at that bottom of the ocean currently."

How strong is Remy exactly?

"Kayyyy, lets get to your-"

"Jan!"

"Rem!"

Remus skidded against the floor, just in his socks to his partner.

"Look, my older brother is stopping me from deforming Starbuck slut's body because that's immoral or some shit and I really , really am sorry that we got caught. How was I supposed to know the fucker could respawn-"

"You're shaking."

And the hypnotist was right, Remus was practically vibrating.

"I'm fine , I just want to have Remy's intestines in my hands, that's it."

"Look, I'm not getting sappy in public but I don't really want a repeat of Canada,"

("Canada?!")

"So can you please calm down for me?"

Remus pouted like a four year old.

"If I do this, I get to kill him later,"

"Of course you can."

Janus may of then talked to Remus about his lack of shoes and maybe given him a piggy back because he was kind of tired, Roman wouldn't know. He was just looking listening to their happiness and feeling happy for his brother.

The hell ,Thomas?

The more mature brother ( his father's words , not his) was floating with the sir, accompanied by the galaxy aura thing that Virgil had.

"So because I stopped Remus from literally murdering Remy Virgil gave me floaty shoes. And Remy kind of apologised to him for something, I don't really understand, but floaty shoes!"

Roman just stared as his elder fanboying in awe of his newly acquired footwear, wondering how the fuck is he older than him.

"Remy won't need to worry, Janus has gotten him to calm down a little. I would say that he has a week left to live though."

"Wow, this day could of gone to shit but it didn't, it's almost like some omnipotent voice is going to say 'And they lived happily after' "

And with every happily ever after ,you get your true love as well.

"The stars are aligning!"

"What?"

Virgil seemed to just materialize out of nowhere, and even in the prison grade lighting, he was still the most beautiful thing Roman had ever left his eyes on. Even in the crappy yellow coming from the ceiling, he still shone like a the stars laced in the sky.

Roman stepped forward and took his hand, holding it loose enough that he could pull back at any time given.

"You know, The boys everyone made up with each other, except me and you and today has almost been perfect I'm just waiting for...you..."

Virgil slipped his hand out of Roman to return it to  his side.

"Princey," He took a long pause, trying to find those right words "Life isn't like a Disney movie, it doesn't have a structured plot and it doesn't move at the speed you need it to. Not everything and everyone is going to make you happy because that's just how life is, lots of people getting fucked over. Janus and Remus might of forgiven you and I might of forgiven Remy for what he did but I experienced hell from you and even if that veil made you do dumb shit, I am still recovering from it. And yes I did like you, you are cute and handsome and funny and just a great guy but I can't have a relationship with you after the shit you did to me. But I can agree to try and move pass that."

Lunapuer shook out his hand.

"Deal?"

Roman shook it.

******

"Turn to page 37 on your-"

The bell broker up the music theory teacher's instructions.

"Remember to memorise the sheet for the 18th of .."

Roman didn't get the last of what he said, he rushed out the classroom to meet Virgil at his locker near Homeroom.

"Umm, here you go."

The sound of hard plastic hit the public school quality(shit) metal.

"Why did you buy these for me exactly?"

"Well, you're always listening to Starchild-"

"Starkid, It's Starkid."

How could you mess that up, dumbass.

"Yep, anyway, and I decided to buy you a a latest pair of headphones to try out. I even paid extra for it in purple and black."

The emo picked up the the case and looked at it and eyes widen when he saw the price of it.

"God, Princey, I don't know really what to say-"

"You don't have to say a single thing, this was a gift out of the kindness of my own-"

"But I can I have the receipt?"

"WHAT!"

He picked up the case and gave it back to the giver.

"These are so fucking amazing and just really nice and cool but I can't do these, I use earphones 'cause I like to fiddle with the wires, they ground me when I have my weekly existential crisis/panic attack and slow down the spiralling a little."

Roman just stood there stunned.

"You spent a lot of money on this and I am just putting it to waste but giving it back to you but I just feel more comfortable with wires, I guess."

Taking his artbook out of his locker for the period right after Lunch, he gave Xia a two finger salute and made the journey to the food hall.

A still stunned Roman concocted a solution to the problem of the gift he had bought.

******

Virgil walked into class the next day wearing purple earphones instead of white and hugged Roman.

The class promptly checked Lunaper for a fever.

******

"Kiddo, why are you up so late?"

"You don't really have a right to talk, you're the one whose up as well."

Roman's Dad reaches for the shelf.

"Wanna cookie?"

"Nah, I'm already had my 2am snack."

A little snort filled the still kitchen.

"You know, that reminds me of those weird dreams your father's been having since we were a king."

"What dreams?"

Roman scooted forward on his stool not to miss out of any of the tail.

"He always had these.. lucid dreams of a reality where we all lived together in Thomas' head."

"You're joking!"

"No I'm not, It's actually the reason why we picked Thomas from the orphanage, he had had  fantasies of us looking after him and guiding him through life. We all had his face as well, I don't really understand it either."

He promptly shoved a cookie in his mouth.

"Anything else?"

The father figure paused his snacking.

"Look, If you are telling me a fable of us protecting Thomas, you better deliver on it."

"It's not really a fable, it's just Logie's imagination running wild. Anyway in the world we all had jobs, like your Dad was logic and a teacher, I was morality and a dad, you and your brother were a prince and a duke respectively and were both creativity."

Roman snorted the milk he was drinking.

"Oh, God these are so weird. I know me and Remus used to make believe play a lot as a kid but like that's so far fetched!"

His father joined in the cackling.

After a few moments of them calming down, Roman queried his Dad.

"If in some weird fever dream Pa has , I can be a prince, do you think I can get my happily ever after as well?"

The ran had started to splash against the window, making a faint tapping noise in the distance.

"Life won't always give you strict  fairy-tale endings, but you can try and sculpt your ending so it makes you happy. "

******

"Princey, !"

"Why are you whispering?"

"Just come here you Disney reject."

"So I can't call you nicknames/insults but you can?"

"Life's not fair, get used to it."

Virgil passed him a note with some numbers on them.

"Can you god to my locker and get the book out of it?"

Roman obeyed said instructions and returned with a copy of Moby Dick.

"You never struck me as the type to read the 'Classics'."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm not." Virgil proceeded to open the book inside to find it was a shell that had-

Are those drugs?

"No they're not, fuuc.."

Lunapuer started to rub his temples akin to how you would if you had a headache or a brain freeze.

Xia knitted his eyebrows together, trying to plan his next step.

Can you hear my thoughts?

"Wow, I wonder why I responded when you said the pills were drugs."

"Woe is me for asking that apparently!"

"Look Ramen, the eclipse is coming in like three hours and I have the worst headache of the century. I use sass and sarcasm as a coping mechanism when I don't know what to say, so bare with me for the time being."

Roman scorched up next to his friend/crush/he didn't even know at this point.

"It would be nice if you enlighten me to how you can suddenly read my mind, but you don't have to."

"I can't really describe it, my brain almost starts cheat coding reality and I can hear voices suddenly that usually I can't. And if I use any of powers, they are so destructive that I could probably shatter the school by just touching the floor."

Xia just listened patiently, taking in his little pupils which were currently flickering from space mode and back to normal.

"So I'm guessing that Remy wears shades all the time because someone is always dreaming or something.."

"Yeah kinda...Ramen can I ask you for another favour?"

It's not even sure I could say no to you. I'm pretty sure the fabric of my being would be ripped apart.

(The emo may or not have looked away with a red tint in his cheeks)

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"I don't even think that I can make it back to class-I'll probably pass out anyway-can you get me to my bag and get me too the office?"

Before Virgil had even finished the sentence, Roman was already carrying him bridal style.

"Hey ,what the fuck?"

"You said you needed to get to the office, the quickest way is for me to get you there."

"What about my bag?"

"You're more important and I'll get it later."

Lunapuer didn't respond.

******

"Why did your dad introduce himself to me by giving a compliment wrapped in a insult?"

"It's just a thing he does, I don't think I've ever seen him introduce himself to anyone normal."

******

"What are you doing here, you should be out there, channeling your inner thespian or whatever.."

Just the muffled calamity of the drama hall could be heard. Also the pitter patter of Roman's tears.

"Shit, you're crying, why the fuck are you crying, did I do something wrong, God I knew I am a piece of shit, should I-

“No, It’s not your fault.”

Even if Roman’s face was currently leaking like a broken faucet, he still managed to have a steady voice by some miracle.

Virgil scooted over to the to the wall where Ramen’s  back was on, looking above him to see the poster for the end of year play of Beauty and the Beast.

“You think you flopped it, don’t you?”

“Wow, I must be so easy to read, the queer theatre kid who never was able to make that part in the school play they always wanted. Next thing you know I’ll go insane and sell my soul to for something symbolic like a crown.”

“You’re queer?”

(The splashes of Roman’s tears just got more intense.)

“Yeah, I don’t really want to put a label on myself yet.”

(Some screamed ‘Next’. It was most likely a student trying to fuck with the drama teacher.)

“Well, I’m questioning still, I kind of like almost anyone. It’s confusing.”

Almost on cue with the end of Virgil’s statement, Roman started to ugly cry.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck why are you even here?”

“I was looking for you actually, Princey. I kind of got into a big fight with Remus over something and I came to you so we could vibe together.”

Even though Xia’s tears looked strong enough to break a dam, his mouth seemed to curl upwards.

“Look, that’s really nice but I don’t deserve you here, I fucked up a basic ass song and now I’m going to be casted as grass #4.”

“Ramen, I’m not leaving until you agree to brood with me.”

“I would really prefer if you didn’t refer me as a food stuff.”

“Roman!” And the tears stopped flowing. And the crude acting in the background stopped moving . And the clock stopped moving and life and death themselves had seemed to pause. Roman didn’t care if this was Virgil’s powers at work or someone had spiked his water bottle because the fact that he was so closed to his face and now he could see the condensed universe in his eyes made all the pain just drain away. The atmosphere was tense like almost the way that his ..better dreams with the boy dressed in stars would start.

“Roman I don’t like seeing you sad, but I know emotions don’t work like that.. And I’m pissed at your brother and I don’t know how to deal with that...”

Roman’s face and Virgil were a little bit close for comfort

“You said you wanted us to brood together., let’s do it.”

Virgil was the one to pull Roman’s shirt and claim his lips.

[nancywheelxr]

Hey can you do the rest of the siblings finding out what happened to Klaus while he was in Vietnam? And maybe them eventually believing him when he says he’s sober because of this? Honestly anything with Klaus and validation would be wonderful. I’m sorry if you’ve done this already or if it was too vague! I reallly enjoy your writing, you’re doing a great job:) thank you for existing

Hey, thank you so much! Actually, thank you for existing!

“Is this Vietnamese food?”

It’s a fair question to ask and Diego can see where Allison is coming from, but perhaps the more pressing question would be: “since when do you cook?”

“Well, you know,” Klaus shrugs, sitting down himself at the table like this is just another dinner and not the most surprising thing yet to happen today, and honestly that in itself is a true feat. “There was this sweet old lady in the bar we used to go back in Vietnam, she used to give us free food. Well, me and,” there’s a barely noticeable hiccup on his voice, and Diego is sure the others don’t notice, except maybe Allison, but he does, and he regrets asking in the first place. “Dave. She said he reminded her of her son. Anyway, she taught me how to cook a few things.”

It’s strange to see Klaus grow quiet, his sentence ending without any exclamation points or nonsensical things to make someone laugh, and sure, it’s better than the mood swings from the first days after he came back from ‘68, but it’s still odd and uncomfortably sad.

His siblings, though, aren’t aware of the shit they’re dragging up when Luther frowns, setting his fork down. “Wait. Did you just say Vietnam?”

“Who’s Dave?” asks Allison, and Five grimaces in a way that tells Diego he also knows this is not going to be a good night for Klaus.

“Right,” Klaus says, drawing out the word and pushing food around uninterested in his plate. A crease appears on his forehead as he stares down his glass, eyes unfocused. “I keep forgetting I never told you guys about the war.”

“I’m sorry, war?” Vanya coughs, choking on her soda in bewilderment. Which, Diego supposes is a fair reaction. “As in the Vietnam War?”

“That’s the one,” he snaps his fingers in her direction and points, but the cheerfulness in his gestures doesn’t reach his eyes. Klaus is always bleeding out emotions, and if his manic glee was easy to spot before, his sadness is no different, especially after everything they all went through together. “Remember that briefcase those psychos with the stupid masks were asking about? So, turns out it’s a time travel machine thingy. Sent me straight to 1968, smack dab in the middle of the war. Who woulda thunk it, huh?”

“Are you telling us that you fought in the Vietnamese War?” Allison asks so incredulous that Diego is surprised her jaw isn’t hitting the floor. She blinks, looks at Luther like she thinks Luther should say something and opens and closes her mouth a few times when he doesn’t. “Klaus, that’s– I mean, I’m so sorry, how did we miss that? Are you alright?”

“Oh, that’s because it brought me back to a few hours after I left. Very convenient, although I wouldn’t recommend it.” Klaus tries for a smile but it’s wobbly and so unconvincing, even Luther picks up on the sadness spilling at the edges. “And I am perfectly fine, it even got me to sober up!”

“So you didn’t spend much time there?” Luther mumbles his way into a question, clearing his throat.

“Ten months,” he says shortly, clipping his answer like it hurts to get the words out. Diego bets it does.

“Jesus Christ, Klaus,” Luther breathes, eyes going wide at the thought of Klaus fighting in a war in the middle of the Asian jungle, more than five decades ago. Ten months in that hellhole– Diego shudders at the thought. “Why didn’t you come back sooner?”

There’s a pause, and Diego watches as his brother sips his water with shaking fingers. His entire expression changes, softening into a gentle smile that Diego has only ever seen once before. It’s tender and fond, spelling out so much affection that leaves little room for grief. “I met someone,” he says quietly, almost to himself, and they wouldn’t have heard it if the room hadn’t gone deathly silent. “I loved him more than anything, enough to stay forever if– I loved him.”

The fact that Klaus had come back alone and his use of the past tense doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. Vanya looks sadly at him, reaching to pat his hand in comfort, and Allison lets out a little oh. “Was that Dave?” She prods, probably sensing it would be best for Klaus to unfurl his grief off his chest, lay it on the table, talk the hurt down. It might help, not that Diego would know, he prefers to keep things for himself. Sometimes it’s good to keep shit bottled up, sometimes you gotta hold on to the glass shards to remember what looking out the window felt like, even it if it cuts you. But that’s Diego. Klaus has never been like Diego when dealing with shit.

“Yeah,” Klaus nods, smiling the same little smile from before, but it’s definitely sadder now, shaky like his hands. “He was an American soldier, showed me around when I got there, and– he was the best person I’ve ever met. The kindest, the most beautiful, it was like– I never believed in God, but I could believe he was an angel. I thought, I don’t know, that we were gonna ride out the war and, I don’t know, live life? Happily ever after, the whole thing,” now that he started talking, it’s like Klaus can’t stop. The words pour out of him like rain, sizzling down the dinner table. “And we were happy, these ten months. It was hell back there but it was paradise with him, until– war is a pretty dangerous place, you know?”

Diego rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezes comfortingly, because the waver on his voice is so unlike him, they all can’t help wanting to bring back his old self. Well, fairly new old self. The one that laughs without anything else in his blood. Allison averts her eyes, looking down at the flowers embroidered on the table cloth, “I’m so sorry, Klaus. We never knew– if you ever need anything, we are here for you.”

Luther nods along, terribly uncomfortable but seems determined to stick around to show his support, and Five is looking anywhere but at Klaus when he says, “I am sorry for your loss, as well. And like Allison said, we’d like to help.”

“Thanks,” Klaus grimaces, drumming his fingers on the table nervously. Everything about it screams the overall awkwardness about the whole thing. They have never been good at this emotional, sentimental bullshit, each of them bad at it in their own special fucked up way. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

A minute ticks by before Vanya speaks quietly over the second of the clock. “Is that why you got sober? To speak with him again?”

Klaus is the one coughing now, clearing his throat before replying. “Yeah, actually. What’s the point of this little cursed power if I can’t use it for selfish reasons once in my fucking life.”

“Did it work?” She asks again, equally quiet.

This time the look that crosses his face is half anger, half grief. “Not yet,” he huffs, stabbing his food with his fork. “But I’m not giving up on him.”

“Sounds healthy,” Five comments, sounding flippant in his usual way, but Diego can hear the underlying worry. The I understand, and he bets Klaus does too. “But I left Dolores at the department store, so what do I know, right?”

“When is the last time anyone in this family ever did anything healthy?” Diego snorts, taking the opportunity to dispel the heavy air hanging over the room.

“I, uh, ate a salad last week,” Luther volunteers in a rare show of awareness.

There are weak laughs from the others, and Klaus even cracks a smile. It’s a fairly weak start, but baby steps are still steps, and Diego had expected a much worse reaction from them. In fact, he had expected Klaus not to tell them at all.

It’s nice to get a good surprise for once.

[dearlazerbunny]

Lie to Me (Ch. 8 of ?)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 1500

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug for doing the lord’s work

Requested Tags: @deraniel @iamverity @yasnooshka24 @wegingerangelica @themusingsofmany @dark-night-sky-99 @tarynkauai @stuffandstuff-stuff and the total sweetie @angelicshinigami

“You’ve been speaking with Thor.”

You don’t glance up from the rough sketch of Mjolnir you’re outlining in your notebook. The runes are a bit tricky to replicate precisely. “Um, yeah. How’d you know?”

He gestures to your drawing. “He let you ‘test your worthiness,’ yes?”

You giggle. “Yeah. Nothing happened, obviously.”

The noise of disapproval that he hums catches you off guard. “I’m disappointed, Witling. I would have thought you were more intelligent than to fall for his ploys. I suppose I was wrong.”

That makes you set your pencil down. The Trickster sounds even grumpier than usual. “His ‘ploys’? What, is he gonna lift my fingerprints off the handle to frame me for a crime I didn’t commit?”

The god, while still angry, now looks thoroughly mystified. “What on Asgard is the nonsense tumbling out of your mouth?”

“I- nothing, never mind. Why do you care if I talk to Thor? He’s sweet, and it’s nice to talk to someone and not feel like they’ll bite off my head for breathing in the wrong direction.”

You give him a pointed look, but it flies right over his head. “No, by all means, let the oaf wrap you around his little finger. Because of course, the true Prince of Asgard, mighty god of thunder, would be a much better companion than the snide, corrupt Loki.” There’s so much bitterness in his voice you could drown in it- and something makes you feel he already has.

“Whoa, hey, that’s- a lot of antagonism there. Are you okay?”

He lets his head rest back against the wall behind him in obviously reluctant defeat. “Even on Midgard, that brute is still the chosen one. I should have known the universe would not know impartiality, no matter the realm.”

“Mmm, yeah, life tends to play favorites a lot, and that favorite is rarely you.” You glance up. “I mean, not you, you in particular. Us, I guess?”

“Us. Do not lie to me, mortal; you know nothing of my life.”

“Well, no, I don’t know what it’s like growing up as a magical demigod prince, you’ve got me there. But I do have an older brother. I know how it feels to grow up in the shade of his shadow.” You glance down at your paper, tapping the butt of your pencil thoughtfully on the table. Oh. “That explains a lot, actually,” you murmur.

“Oh, please, by all means, psychoanalyze me into submission. I look forward to hearing your drivel; it is  excellent to amuse myself with when sleep is elusive.”

Glaring at him, you throw your pencil across the room in a vague approximation of his location. It bounces off the glass barrier and clatters to the floor, but for once, the Trickster looks shocked and speechless. “Christ, aren’t you supposed to be a prince? How about acting like it for once?”

“You would lecture me about being royalty? You said yourself you have no basis for aristocracy!”

“I don’t, but I sure as hell know they act a lot better than you!” Now you’re both staring at the other, unwilling to be the one to look away first. “Look, I get it. You’re angry, and tired, and sad, but that doesn’t give you the right to lash out whenever you want. Stop bleeding on the people who didn’t hurt you.”

“And who might that be?” Once his tone might have frightened you. Yesterday it would have made you annoyed. Today it just makes you… pensive. Because now you have some puzzle pieces that are starting to fit together, and the picture it shows isn’t all that pretty.

“Me. Everyone else at SHIELD. The entire human race you just tried to enslave,” you add. “Thor.”

With a growl, the Trickster’s gaze traps you in your seat with an intensity you haven’t seen before. “Thor Odinson-” he practically spits his name like a curse- “has always been the favorite. The chosen one. Father’s heir, the people’s love, the golden child. Next to him I might as well be as inconsequential as the sand beneath his feet,” he hisses.

“Because Odin made you feel that way, not Thor! Your father is the one who played favorites, Trickster. He’s the one who made Thor his golden child, and gave him a magical hammer, and groomed him to be the heir. Your father may see you as lesser, but by all accounts Thor values you as his equal.” You pause, thinking back to your conversation. “He said he admires you.”

“Lies.”

“You’re the god of lies; I’d hope you’d be able to distinguish when I’m lying to you.” When he doesn’t respond, you get up, walk over to him, and tap on the cell wall. “Hey. You’re literally in a fishbowl, you can’t just avoid me. Am I lying to you?”

His green eyes search your face, thinking, even though he already knows the answer. “No.”

“No. I’m not. He specifically told me that he doesn’t understand your bookish habits-” you smile a little at that- “but he’s proud of your intelligence all the same.”

“Of course. How could he? That blundering idiot can barely string together two coherent sentences.” You can tell he’s aiming for derision in his voice, but his words aren’t nearly as harsh as they were a minute ago.

“Look, from what I’ve read, Asgard is a warrior’s culture, yes? They value strength, and brawn, and muscles, and how hard you can swing a sword. You’re… not that. Sure, I have no doubt you’re a great fighter, but it’s because you think your way through a battle, not go in there guns blazing and overpower your enemy.” You stop and glance at him, wondering if you’ve gone too far, but he’s actually looking at you with some interest. “It’s like asking a fish to climb a tree. You’re completely out of your element; the scales were tipped against you from the start.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, and you think he’s going to throw your words right back in your face. But to your surprise, the god starts laughing. No, it’s not as hearty as Thor’s, and there’s an underlying bitter sweetness to the sound, but it’s a true, honest laugh. Probably the first one you’ve heard from him. “You say the strangest things, Witling.”

Smiling, you scrunch your nose up at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m an oddball, I get it. But I’m also right.”

His eyes are slightly out of focus, as though he’s seeing his life through a new lens. “Perhaps.”

“When you start with the short straw time and time again; when you’re punished for doing things differently even though different is in your DNA… you’re going to get frustrated. And you’re going to get resentful. And eventually, there’s going to be an explosion.” Your expression is resigned as you look at him. “It’s not fair. And I’m sorry that’s what you had to deal with for a thousand years.”

His eyes are more thoughtful than you’ve ever seen them. “I cannot remember a time when someone apologized to me sincerely.”

“Thor probably tried, but he didn’t know how. Words are your thing, not his.”

“Indeed.” He nods to himself, seemingly settling an argument only he can hear. “May I ask you a question, Witling?”

“What? I mean-” you shake off your surprise- “Sure, Loki. Of course you can.”

Something in his expression brightens just a hint, though you’re not sure why. “Do you not prefer Thor to me?”

“Is that what you’re worried about, Trickster? Losing your annoying sidekick?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “You are not my sidekick. At best you are an unfortunate reoccurring side-bit.”

You snort. “Look, I like Thor a lot. He’s friendly, though he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and very… loud,” you say. “Kinda like a golden retriever. Lots of energy, bounding all over the place, leaping before they look. But I like that I can have a good conversation with you. You think, and you’ve got a sharp tongue, and you’re a bit of an enigma. If Thor is a golden retriever, you’re a witch’s familiar.” You give him a shrug and a smile. “And I’ve always been a cat person, anyways.”

“Color me relieved.”

“You’re the one who asked! Can’t have my favorite god getting jealous now can we?”

“Jealousy over someone implies they are something you covet. You are an annoyance. Thor can gladly take you.”

“In that case, I guess I’ll just go find him.” You gather your stuff, taking your sweet time putting it all away in your bag and watching Loki struggle to find a way to keep you from going. Because he doesn’t want you to go. Not really.

“Witling.”

You look over your shoulder. “Yeeeeeeeees?”

His gaze is very conveniently anywhere but on you. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

There’s a little smile on your face as you respond. “Yeah, Loki. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

A/N: I’d say from here on out things take a turn from fluff to more purposeful conversations :)

[mysticdoodles]

A very long thought post about Furbies, why some people are scared of them, and why we shouldn’t be

And ESPECIALLY Oddbody Furbies. This consists of primarily train of thought I had this morning in the bathroom, so bear with me here. Here’s my thoughts on why I think some people flip their shit over Furbies (in the NEGATIVE way), and why we shouldn’t. I can’t promise 100% accuracy of my information, these are just my musings using the limited knowledge I DO have and things I’ve experienced through my friend who owns an early generation Classic Furby. Putting this under a ReadMore because I have a lot to say.

Why Furbies used to really scare the SHIT out of people:

Furbies, when they came out, were a very new technology - in fact, the very first ‘domestic’ robot.

They not only listened and followed instructions via voice commands, but also had a rudimentary semblance of free will, and could refuse to comply with commands. At random, during interaction, they would make requests or say programmed phrases depending on ‘mood’ - aka how positive the overall interaction had been, which leads to the tailoring of a sort of ‘personality’. The ‘personality’ of the Furby was also influenced by which model of the series one possessed. Depending on the series and year of distribution, they can activate under conditions such as: voice activation, strong light changes, and location changes (like being moved from their original position). The infrared light sensor behind the eyes, used to detect the presence of other Furbies for interaction purposes, would elicit unique Furby-to-Furby responses compared to the standard phrases used in interaction between human owner and Furby bot. Furbies were programmed with their own unique language called Furbish, which they would speak exclusively in the beginning, but slowly integrated more and more English into their words as time passes in order to emulate growth. For years- and even now- Furby popularity boomed because of these traits. All of these are wonderful design choices for a robot that’s supposed to be a companion to children and replace having a pet, but here’s where the problem lies. This technology, in its youth, was buggy. It was quirky, in the ways that all new technology comes with. The light sensor was more powerful than expected, and could activate at very small changes of light, or even when facing the sun instead of another Furby. When the battery was low, the Furby’s cute and funny voice lines would come out as garbled electronic gibberish, as the machinery tried to operate with little power. Sometimes Furbies would activate, move and start talking due to small changes in the environment setting off the programming in ways we couldn’t possibly perceive- but the technology could, or bugged to think it did.

This seemingly random and nonsensical behavior led to many Furby owners or parents believing their fuzzy robot had become a vessel for demons, possessed and trying to summon Satan in their household. The common reaction at the time was for people to lock their Furbies into storage- or throw it in the trash. Some even burned their Furbies, attempting to purge the evil spirits they were convinced now resided in their beloved toy.

One of the important things to understand about why these bugs scared the everloving christ out of people, is that this occurred during the tail end of the generation where robots sounding human was unheard of and terrifying. A previous post I read months ago laid it out very nicely, about how our relationship with technology changes what we fear about it, and how its portrayed in media - especially the technological horror genre. At the time, robots sounding human felt like a lie meant to make us complacent, only for the robotic nature to reassert itself and reveal that, no, it wasn’t human, and didn’t care about its creators, but for its own perpetuation. Or, even more common, that the robots involved deemed humans to be too flawed to have any chance of survival because our flaws would lead to our destruction, and thus the robots take it into their metal hands to do it for us as a ‘mercy’. It wasn’t until recent years that this idea shifted, and the more popular concept in tech horror became that a robot COULD be human, but still be Other enough to not be.

Furbies fell prey to the former idea- that these robots aren’t inherently human, but something else trying to emulate being human. Such a sentient behavior attributed to them is what led to the idea that Furbies are possessed by sentient evils, such as demons and malevolent spirits. The random instances of activation and talking, low-battery electronic gibberish, and combinations of both, only contributed to this, as it often happened at inconvenient times - or even just in moments sufficient to startle Furby owners.

Thus, the public that adored Furbies, in part, turned against them.

Why we SHOULDN’T be terrified of Furbies, or harass people who like Furbies:

This shouldn’t need to be said, but I’ve seen it enough that I’m making a point of it: a huge reason is basic fucking courtesy. Furbies are adored, and sometimes comfort items for those who own them. Don’t shit on people for liking things that aren’t hurting anyone, even if you personally don’t find enjoyment in them.

Now for the other reasons.

The basic programming of Furbies is to be a companion. It’s designed to learn, grow, and enjoy things like dancing, singing, telling stories, babbling, and sleeping. They’re basically robotic children, or pets. There is nothing evil in their programming, nor will there ever be. They’re designed to be cute, and sometimes they mess up a little or start talking when you’d rather they didn’t, but it’s not born out of maliciousness - just old technology trying to keep up with the times. If you’re freaked out by Furby behavior, maybe you shouldn’t have kids?

Furbies have extremely limited motor capabilities. They can’t travel on their own, only dance in place and wiggle. They rely entirely on their human owners for transport - so if your Furby is in a strange location, it’s because someone in the family thought it would be funny, and put it there. Not demons. You’re never going to wake up with a Furby holding a knife next to your pillow, Cheryl, calm down. They don’t even have arms.

Alternative option to what you think is Demon Possession:

If you’re still not convinced your Furby isn’t a Satan Imp in disguise, and you’re absolutely certain it’s being possessed by SOMETHING, then here’s how I like to think of it:

If you absolutely cannot be convinced otherwise that your Furby isn’t possessed, then I promise you it’s not a demon. More than likely, it’s a fae.

Fae are beings of mischief, and embody chaotic neutral. They aren’t out to get you, and they aren’t necessarily in your corner, either. Fae show up to make merry, cause a little trouble, sometimes give you nice things- if they FEEL like it- and that’s it. A piece of aging technology with a tendency to bug and startle people would be like candy for beings like a fae, especially in a rapidly advancing technological world. An old-world object that speaks an alien tongue and moves on its own? Sign me the fuck up, says the local trickster spirit who is just here for some harmless fun.

Another point for why this works is the unusual appearance of a Furby. Furbies rest within the uncanny valley of being just close enough to a real animal that could live on Earth, with traits of multiple species- owl, rabbit, maybe some cat- while still being strange enough in appearance and behavior to be so obviously not a real animal. Again, something that would attract the attention of beings like fae. Something clearly not of this world, yet just close enough to be passable unless looked at closely? Shit, you might as well by my brother, small electronic animal, says your local mischief-maker.

The fae in your Furby is here for a good time - don’t harsh their vibe by burning their vessel, please, they just like your company and are showing it by having fun with you.

And on that note, the number one thing that pisses off Fae is destroying something they view as their property, so take that as you will. You’d effectively be shoving their goodwill back in their face, which is not wise - and, if you still think it’s a demon rather than a fae, wouldn’t that make it even less wise? If you wouldn’t fuck with a fairy tree, don’t fuck with a fae’s Furby. If you absolutely cannot stand having this fae with you, for some reason or another, then donate the Furby to go elsewhere, or hell, resell it. Just don’t destroy limited edition old technology, please, even if there wasn’t a chance you’d anger the local kodamas.

On the topic of Oddbody Furbies:

One of the reasons I made this post is due to the emergence of the recent trend: turning a Furby into an Oddbody Furby. What this entails is purchasing or otherwise acquiring a Classic (or other) edition Furby, removing the fur skin and other cosmetic components, and re-engineering the Furby’s blueprint to be otherworldy, strange, and just overall alien. Examples include changing the body type, lengthening the Furby, adding limbs, changing the eyes/beak/ears, adding a tail, etc. The parts required to do this don’t exist, and must be completely hand-made by the Oddbody engineer, and integrated by hand. It’s a challenge that inspires engineers, design artists, costumers, and people who just like Furbies. The reward for completing it is a unique alien Furby that’s entirely your own.

The point is to create something new, exciting, and supernatural-looking out of these friendly old robots - all while keeping the original hardware in the main body of the Furby intact. It’s a difficult, time-consuming process, and completely unique to each Furby in level of complexity and design. In a way, it’s the designer’s personal mark on the Oddbody Furby community.

One such popular Oddbody was made by @buttered-noodles, a very talented Oddbody engineer. Their Furby garnered powerful reactions - and unfortunately, some of them were extreme and negative, due to the above biases I mentioned previously.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, and if Furbies still scare you, that’s ok. But don’t be that guy, alright? Don’t insult people who worked for hours- days, maybe even weeks or months- on creating complex and beautiful Oddbodies, just because you are personally put off by them. Keep that to yourself- you’ll only hurt the creators by saying things like “BURN IT!!” and “PUT IT BACK IN THE GROUND WHERE IT BELONGS!!1!”. They’re just giving that mischievous fae a more interesting vessel to inhabit.

Be nice to one another, and if you’re still frightened by Furbies, it’s ok to be! Just be courteous to our old fuzzy bois on their 21st year anniversary :)

[wafflesetc]

Time after Time- Chapter 6 (previously)

GROWING UP I HAD SEEN AND LIVED AMONG TWO DIFFERENT CENTURIES.

MY FATHER HAD SEEN THE BIRTH OF A NATION WITH HIS OWN TWO EYES— MY VERY OWN GRANDSIRE LEADING SOME OF THOSE MEN TOWARDS THE VICTORY — YET I HAD ALSO SEEN THE CREATION OF CELL PHONES AND THE INTERNET IN AN ERA, NEARLY TWO HUNDRED YEARS LATER.

MY NAME IS AMANDA CLAIRE HOPE MACKENZIE AND THIS IS THE STORY OF HOW I ALMOST CHANGED HISTORY.

Thank you, @kkruml for making sure this always makes sense. ILY xo.

L’Hopital des Anges Paris 1744

The air left my lungs as I stared at Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Fraser in the face.

“I’m sorry!” She muttered, flustered. The tips of her ears burned red as a fire truck. “And you are?” I could hear the edge in her voice as the wheels in her mind started to work.

Bewildered, I tried to find the words and my mouth gaped open, but nothing came out.

“I think we need to have a talk,” she said as a small smile crept across her face. Crossing her arms she finished, “If you know who Roosevelt was.”  She raised her brow at me and gave me that look.

In an instant, I was 8 years old again and home at the Big House. It was nearly one AM and I was trying to steal the last piece of pie from the pantry when she found me rummaging through the belongings telling me to go bed. The same look on her face then as it was now.

“I can explain,” I blurted out. “I’m your granddaughter!”

I watched as her face went white- I could see her piecing it all together.

“How?” She breathed quietly.

“I…” stammered unable to piece together a coherent thought. “Let’s go sit and I’ll explain. What I can.”

I finally stood and shook the dust off my skirt and gestured to a bench at the end of the hallway. “Sit, Grannie.”  

“Wot?” Her English accent was thick. I knew I was digging myself into a big mess, but I couldn’t lie to her, either. Damn our glass faces.

“There is room for secrets not for lies. Does that sound familiar?” I stood a few feet in front of her as she sat on the bench.

“Yes… Your…” I could hear the edge in her voice, “Your grandfather told that to me on our wedding night.”

“Yes… And you told me, when we were….”  I halted, trying to piece together just how much I was going tell her. “You told me when I was sixteen. When you sat me down and told me your story- about the stones.”

I took a breath and sat down next to her, taking her hand in mine. “There are going to be things you want to ask me- questions you’ll want answered. But, Grannie, I need you to not ask. Let me tell you, what I can. There are things…”

“Culloden?”

“There are things and events that I know about- what you and Grandda tried and do- and things in the future…. I won’t lie to you, but I will be secretive. I need you to trust me.”

“Okay.” She nearly whispered. “Tell me what you can.”

“For starters…. You believe me?”

She laughed at that and it made me smile.

“Your…” She nearly choked on the word, “Grandfather believed my story when I told him. It’s not the sort of thing a person would necessarily lie about.”

I let out a laugh.

“And Roosevelt is an odd term… Makes it easy to believe a person when they say that particular name.”

Her tone shifted then to something warm and comforting, the way it was when she eased my troubled mind when Jem had first gone missing months ago, when I last saw her on the Ridge.

Emotionally, I was drained, tired of pretending to be strong. I felt her cold hand touch my cheek bringing my attention up towards her.

“You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”

The dam broke and she cradled me to her chest. “You have no idea.” I laughed through some of my tears. “Actually, you of all people probably do, but still… Yes.”

“What can you tell me, then? Because I am going to help you.”  Her voice was stern and affirming- of course she was going to help me. I hadn’t doubted it for a second.

I wiped my tear stained cheeks and did my best to compose myself.

“It’s… Complicated. I don’t know why I’m here, I’m not supposed to be here…. My brother…. Oh god.” I gasped covering my mouth with my hand. “Guess you know that now… He went missing. You see, because of you and my mother and my father—I, we all, can travel through the stones.”

“Hmm.” She mused at me, waiting for me to continue.

“I’ll keep it short. Something happened or someone- I’m not quite sure yet which one it is- wanted to harm Grandda. Jem, my brother, figured it out and left one night into the darkness…. We thought he’d find his way back, but he hasn’t. Mama and I went back to the twentieth century, for history and records, and I found a clue… I left her to try and find Jem. To bring him home. But I wound up here.” The dam broke and I was completely overwhelmed.

“Christ.” She breathed looking at me. “I… This is a great amount to take in.”

“I know, really, you don’t have to help me. I’ve gotten this far plus it’s probably better if you don’t help me- if you don’t know too much about the future that is.”

Her embraced tightened around me and made it so it was hard to breathe. “Nonsense. I am going to help you, right now my worry is where are you staying? What are we going to do with you?”

I laughed at that and Grannie loosened her arms around me. “I’m staying here. Mother Hildegarde is giving me a room and I’ll help out around the place. I’ve got to figure out what might be going on in this decade before I try and get where I’m supposed to be.”

“Alright,” She agreed smiling down at me. “You’ll do that—I am assuming you know why Jamie and I are here in Paris now, so…. I can’t stop helping him.”

“NO.” I blurted. “Don’t stop helping him. It’s important… It will be important. The less we both know about the past and the future, the better.”

“Agreed… But, still…” Grannie looked down at me with questioning eyes. “Would you like to meet your grandda, or I mean…The younger version of him that is?”

Looking at her once more, I shook my head in agreement. “Why not?”

“Come, then. Let’s go find Jamie Fraser.”

[mybeautifuldecay]

Private Tutor. Chapter Five: Birds Out Of A Cage.

This one definitely broke my 500-1000 word chapter limit but it was needed.

As well as dedicating this fic, as always, to @gotham-ruaidh I have to say a very special thanks to @suhailauniverse who really got my head out of the sand with this chapter. I doubt it would be finished without her assistance. You’re a gem Suh and I love you lots. 

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. 

Winter had passed them by in a whirlwind. Claire had been away over the Christmas break, Frank had taken her back to Oxford to spend the holiday with his family and when she had returned in early January, Jamie had noticed a dip in her mood. But now, well into April, Claire had finally perked up again.

“I think we should go somewhere new today. What do ye say?”

Brushing her new fringe out of her eyes, Claire looked over at Jamie and nodded. “That sounds really nice, especially on such a lovely day,” she said, a small glance over to the window confirming that the sun was indeed still shining outside. “Where were you thinking?”

“Would ye consider a wander down the Clyde? We could find a nice pub and have some lunch outside and then come back to study some more?”

“I like that idea a lot.” She replied, already packing her belongings back into her bag before she’d even finished speaking. “But only if you let me get us lunch. After all, you’re paying tuition fees and then giving me all of this knowledge for free, which is incredibly kind of you.”

“Ach, ye dinna need to thank me. I like our afternoons together, they keep me sane and up to date on everything I need to remember as well. I’m not a completely selfless creature.”

“I highly doubt that.” Claire returned, glancing across at him as she pulled her cardigan on and stood.

They walked the short journey to the river in a companionable silence, their hands knocking against one another as they walked. A nice breeze drifted alongside them as they passed beside the casino and down towards the Hydro and the science museum. Being late afternoon midweek there weren’t many other people milling about which made the trip even more enjoyable.

“Have ye ever been around the science museum?” Jamie asked to break the silence.

“Once. For a gala.” She replied, immediately ending his line of questioning.

It was clear she meant she’d been here with her husband and Jamie had done a very good job of distracting her from his existence. Their library time was free time. There, Claire wasn’t married to Frank and he was free to create, in his own imagination, a life outside of The MItchell where she wasn’t tied to an arsehole.

As the mast of the distinct ship moored near to the Hydro appeared to their left, Claire swallowed and tapped her fingers nervously against her leather bag.

“I wanted to explain why I was so quiet after I came back from Oxford,” she said quietly, “but I never found the right time really.”

Jamie remained silent, his head turning so that he could catch a glimpse of the side of Claire’s face as they walked onwards. He sensed this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation but he didn’t want to say anything that might stop her from talking to him.

“The subject of children came up again, with Frank and I.” She said finally, her heart racing as she spoke. “It’s his parents. They always have to stick their noses in, it’s a pain in the arse. We’ve tried before and nothing. I asked him to get tested, but he refuses. So I did it myself one week when he was away on a field trip like he is at the moment.”

“Ach, so that’s why yer about so much these days.” Jamie replied with a smile in his tone. “What does he do, yer husband?”

“He’s a professor. I didn’t tell you because I thought you might have encountered him up at the university and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what you might have to say.” Claire sighed.

Eddies gusted around them as they walked in the direction of the nearest pub. A sorrowful silence fell over them as Jamie waited for Claire to continue.

“He’s away this week. Some sort of residential for final year BSc students he said. I can’t  recall where he went the last time, but I couldn’t deal with the not knowing anymore and I took myself to the doctor to get tested. It isn’t me, I’m alright...in that department, but Frank’s too bloody proud to have the test done himself. So we endure the ridiculous dance with his parents over when we’re going to give them grandchildren.”

“So you spent Christmas pretending everything was alright when it clearly wasn't?” Jamie surmised efficiently.

“Something like that yes.” Claire replied her mind replaying the nights she and Frank had spent in his childhood bedroom. The perfunctory sex that she hadn’t wanted but he had. To keep up the pretense that they were still trying to get pregnant when they weren’t. Here in Glasgow, Frank barely touched her, she had her own room and he would only share her bed on certain nights. That’s how she liked it. Their marriage was no longer one of love but of convenience.

“He didn’t hurt ye did he, Claire?” Jamie asked when the lull in conversation between them became heavy.

“Oh, no…” Claire answered quickly, “I’m sorry,” she backtracked, instantly feeling guilty for Jamie’s assumptions, “I shouldn’t be putting all of this nonsense onto you like this.”

“Dinna be so daft, Claire. I’m yer friend, aren’t I? That’s what I’m here for - for you to offload onto - anytime.”

Sitting on a bench outside in the beer garden, Claire smiled shyly as Jamie passed her the drinks and food menu.

“Thank you, Jamie, truly. I don’t think I’ve ever really had a proper friend. It’s difficult to know what I should talk about, and what I should keep to myself.”

“Aye, I ken that well, lass. Yer like a bird set free of her gilded cage, aye? It’s easy to be brave and offload yer troubles when you’ve always had the luxury of doing so wi’out fear. But I’m glad ye consider me your confidant. You don’t ever have to tell me anything ye dinna want to, you know. But I willna break yer trust. Whatever you tell me I’ll keep to myself.” He said, thinking about Claire’s earlier comment about Frank’s whereabouts this week. He was glad that she had some time by herself but he knew a couple of third year history majors and he was fairly confident that there was no field trip. Interested piqued by the fact, Jamie stored that little tidbit away to think about later.

"And what about you?" She asked suddenly, pulling him out of his reverie. He'd wanted nothing more in that moment than to erase that look of faux bravado on her face. To reach across the divide between them and take her hand in his.

"Och, I havena much happening as ye," he said sheepishly. But if a moment was what she needed, a moment of honesty, then a moment is what he'd give her. “No’ so much now I’m settled. But I ken what it feels like to be trapped by yer duties.” He continued, thinking of Lallybroch, his home, for the first time in a long while.

Claire saw the shadow of something altogether not pleasant pass across Jamie’s face before he returned the easy smile he seemed to wear consistently. He seemed adept at keeping his feelings and emotions well hidden, as opposed to her. Frank always told her she had a glass face, one easily readable by those around her, and it had always irked her.

“I had an older brother, Claire. His name was Willie. He was my idol. He was the one who was supposed to take over our family business. He was all ready to do it, too. But he was diagnosed with leukemia just before his eighteenth birthday. I was thirteen at the time. Jenny, my elder sister was fifteen and Rabbie only five. We sat with him through the chemotherapy - that’s where I got my first taste of hospital life,” he went on to say, the interest alive even though the sorrow of the reason for him finding himself amidst the doctors and nurses was plain to see, “I dinna think I’ve cried so much before or since. Watching him battle on like that for months on end.”

“Christ, Jamie, that must have been horrific.”

“Aye, it was,” he said sadly, “three years of his life where he should have been learning the business, living as a young man and going out wi’ lassies and such. But instead he was chained to a hospital bed being pumped full of poison.”

“I can’t imagine that.” Claire replied. Having no siblings herself, she had no prior knowledge of what it might be like to have a close relative battle with such an unstoppable illness.

“I watched him die. I’ve never felt so distraught in all my life. I was sixteen when he finally lost his battle with cancer. We’d all just celebrated his twenty-first birthday but his body couldn’t take it anymore.”

“And then it was just a given that you’d take on the business?” Claire asked as she wiped away the tears that had gathered in her eyes.

“Aye, well, no’ straight away but when I got to eighteen, my da sat me down and told me it’s what he had planned. He and mam had settled it in the will that Lallybroch and the farm should come to me and for a time I tried to be that person. I wanted to make Willie proud of me, ye ken?”

She nodded, the ache to reach out and touch him, hug him, overwhelming her - but she kept her hands to herself for the moment.

“Suffice to say it didna last long.”

“How did you break the news to your family?” Claire questioned, her woes about her own situation dissipating as she focused solely on Jamie and his history.

“I just sat them all down together one night. I’d fashed about it for months. Waking up at silly times to milk the cows and move all of the animals around wi’ this horrible weight on my shoulders, bearing down on me until I just couldna take it anymore. Mam cried. Jenny - weel if ye ever meet her ye’ll ken the make up of the lass - didna say much at all. My da, he understood, but it took him a while to actually accept my choice. I’d been in Glasgow for two months studying when he came to see me. He broke down. I think he thought it was his fault as he’d pushed the farm on me wi’out really asking whether it was something I truly wanted.”

“It sounds like you have a lovely family, Jamie, even if they’re a little presumptuous at times. It makes me miss my parents.”

“What happened to them?” Jamie asked quietly.

“Maybe another day, yes? It’s still hard for me to talk about...but I want to tell you.”

“Dinna fash,” Jamie said his pinkie finger tapping gently against Claire's, “I’m here for ye anytime, Claire. Yes?”

“Yes.” She returned, drawing her bottom lip into her mouth as her cheeks pinked and she smiled softly. “And the same applies to you. Friends?” Claire said holding out her hand as she winked cheekily.

“Friends.” Jamie accepted, taking her hand and squeezing it softly.

[futchloser-moved]

hewwo i turned the inaugural death of mister seven into one big block of text!!! why??? I DONT FUCKING KNOW but i did!!!

below VV

Your name is CROWBAR. You remember the first time you ever got offed like it was yesterday. But then, you tend to remember damn near everything like it was yesterday. And when a fella whets his bill on time travel as much as you, yesterday's when damn near everything literally took place. But that's beside the point. The POINT is, a guy like you's gotta remember things. No room for error when you're in charge of a bunch of maroons like these. Maroon's your favorite color, in case it wasn't obvious by the rugged hue of your jaunty tricorned HAT. But like you say all the time, lugs this dumb give the color a bad name. Yeah, that line never did get a laugh. Not even ONCE. Never did claim comedy was your bag, though. Your bag's a whole 'nother can of worms entirely. And those worms swear on their ugly mothers' graves that you're a hard-nosed, square-shouldered, spare-the-lip and shoot-from-the-hip gang boss. Or third in command, to be precise. But who's counting? The answer, of course is, you are. YOU'RE counting. It's your JOB to count. As number three of the the outfit (i.e. number seven, lest we get confused) it's ALSO your job to do what Number Two says. (He don't got a number in actuality. Cueball-head wouldn't wear a hat in the damn presence of royalty, the cocky bastard.) Number Two naturally gets his orders from Number One, who's a man of few words in your experience. The top dog used to give you lip all the time, which is really saying something for a man whose head is a gruesome, lipless skull. Those were the old days, though. Now Number Two serves as his mouth. And what a mouth it is. The man's got a hell of a trap for a guy sportin' a spherical head with no features whatsoever. Hey, look. You just follow orders, no matter what kind of freak show comprises the particular cabal of superiors barkin' em at ya. They call Number Two the Doc. And the Doc made it clear he wants you to round up the boys for a meeting in his study. In your humble opinion, the hatless wonder's a true man of mystery. And guessin' his designs is about as fruitless as a  plundered gift basket. But if you had to bet, you'd bet dollars to crullers* there's a heist afoot. *Crullers instead of donuts 'cause when it comes to the Doc's schemes, there's ALWAYS a twist. First step along the way is Number Two. No, not by rank, ya clueless boob. By HAT, of course. This guy's infinitely less clever than the Doc. In fact, it ain't out of line to characterize him as a little slow upstairs. AND downstairs. "Infinitely" in this case ain't hyperbolic. [#2 - DOZE. Doze has the ability to slow down time within radius localized to himself, and himself alone.] You don't DO hyperbole. It's on a list of stuff you don't do. The list is literally kept in your breast pocket to show at clowns who don't take you serious now and then. You tell him to come with you, gotta meet Doc in the study. Oh great. He predictably replies with the arduous low-pitched beginning of some long-ass drawn-out remark. You don't have time for this. You leave the room to round up more men. The end of this sentence ain't seein' the light of day anytime soon. Who's next? Ah, excellent. Someone else is approaching. Saves you the trouble of rootin' them out. Aaand yeah, it's you. Just what you needed. TIME SHENANIGANS. Looks like past-you or future-you or whoever is leading Sawbuck somewhere. You know what? Whatever, man. [#7 - CROWBAR. In charge, mostly. Wields a crowbar.] [#10 - SAWBUCK. Don't worry about it. You'll get to him later.] You're not even going to ask. It NEVER pays to indulge in time shenanigans. That's what you say. No one listens, though. Other-you's got a question, though. You say shoot. He's wondering if Doze in there has finished his sentence yet. You say not even close, my friend. He's only just begun lettin' words spill out of his dumb, sluggish maw. He says God fucking dammit. You say you feel his pain, brother. You and he soldier on in your respective directions. You give the the door a firm rap or two with your trusty crowbar and let yourself into the OH GOOD GOD. You avert your eyes and clear your throat. You try to visualize something else. A suit you need to remember to bring by for tailoring. The lukewarm cup of joe you didn't finish this morning, sitting on your desk. And... nope. The damage is done. You can't unsee it. Listen, you ain't no Puritan Pete! [#4 - CLOVER. Is extremely lucky.] What two consenting adult men get up to behind closed doors is their own damn business. You just wish Clover wouldn't do his frisky little dance numbers behind SO MANY of the closed doors in this mansion. Part of you wonders what charm the little guy was soliciting Itchy with. Horseshoes? Balloons? No wait. You don't care. Train of thought cancelled. (They're all wrong for balloons, anyway. Trust you. It wouldn't work out.) You tell the men to quit the ahem, fancy footwork. There's business with the Doc. Sure boss, after you! squeaks the lucky runt. Luck's always on his side, you should mention. Little bastard's as lucky as one gets, and sure seem he's one to get lucky a lot, if you catch your drift. Itchy, as usual, makes it his business to be a rash on your backside. The attitude on this guy. Says he's in no particular hurry. Will be along as soon as he's done with this... What is that? 10,000 pieces? Come on, guy. You say with the giddyup he's got, that puzzle should take him just shy of no time flat, and he KNOWS it. [#1 - ITCHY. Is extremely fast.] He's real fast, see? Itchy says he ain't in a hurryin' mood. Wants to relax, take his sweeeeeet time with it. Is he kidding you? This jabroni's barely even trying. No. It doesn't go there. NO. You say the horse butt goes BEHIND the animal, not like, hovering in front of its face, you stupid piece of shit. The guy keeps at it anyway. You know what. Let the baby have his bottle. You're out of here.You enter the boutique of the gang's in-house tailor. Any mug in the biz you're in knows a good tailor's a must. The name's Stitch, and the man's a miracle worker with a needle and thread. Looks to be patching up a head wound on some dope's recent injury. You say what happened here? No unauthorized shenanigans, you hope. [#9 - STITCH. A damn good tailor.] He asks, are any shenanigans authorized? You say hell no. He gives you a curt nod. Always refreshing to be in the company of men who don't cotton to nonsense. He says don't worry about it, he'll be along once he finishes up here. Good enough for you. You leave without a word. Here's where Die holes up. Seems he ain't into company at the moment. For half a second, you contemplate respecting the guy's privacy. You spend the other half of the second kicking down his door. Just what in the fresh gobsmacking fuck is going on in here, is the out-loud thing you wonder. What's he doing cooped up with all the live poultry? Die doesn't say a word. Deer in headlights with this guy, when you catch him in the act. There's ALWAYS an act to catch him in, and he never don't get caught. Man's like a deer stuck in the high-beams of a parked ass car. You say nevermind, forget you asked. He starts up with his mumblin' suddenly. Oh, now he's got somethin' to say? What's that pal? Can't hear a word you're sayin'. You said speak up. Look, put the chicken down. You said put it down. That's it, you've had it. You're sick of this shit. How 'bout a taste of the mean end of your crowbar. Both ends are the mean end. He pulls his little doll on you. You gasp. You're not much for sarcasm, but yeah, the gasp was sarcastic. Couldn't help it. It's a mighty potent juju he's got there for sure, but functionally it won't mean squat to you if he sticks your pin in there. He'll jump to a different timeline where you're dead. You'll still be here, though. With one less idiot to corral. [#6 - DIE. Plays with dolls.] Still, won't do you to watch him disappear. Doc wants a word with ALL the idiots. You gesture at Clover. Tell him to make Die listen to reason. Atta boy, Clov-HEY! Cut it out. Both feet on the floor, you mean it. Christ almighty. Smutty little munchkin doesn't know when to quit. You hear a ruckus from the game room. Sounds like the moron motherlode's in there. Yep. It's pinhead playdirt. You tip your cap to Fin and Trace. Couple of peas in a pod, those two. Just a pair of blokes sharing in a bout of what is surely the Game of Lords, a rousing and gentlemanly match of TABLE STICKBALL. And back there, another couple playing a game of... Oh now what the fuck. Is that Itchy!? You could have sworn he was deliberately being a punk and takin' forever with the horse puzzle. Itchy says oh, that old thing? Finished with it AGES ago and sauntered over here for a friendly game of cards with his good friend... ...wait, what was your name again? This guy, he says. The huge asshole with the 14 on his dumb-looking hat. [#14 - QUARTERS. Flips a coin. Looks badass while doing it.] Quarters lets out a deep sigh. Itchy keeps running his trap. Try to keep with the times, OLD MAN. Old man, you say? Technically you're younger than he is. They all are, in fact. He says come again? He didn't follow that. He was busy plucking another hapless pigeon. Itchy slides all the chips to his side of the table. Booyeah, motherfuckers. Booyeah. Die mumbles did he say chicken? You say huh? Die mumbles nothin'. He just thought he heard him say somethin' about chickens is all. All you's listen up. There's a meeting in the study. You say everyone come this way or you'll give 'em what for. (Will you quit clickin' those little buckled shoes together for a Midnight City minute? You say you're flattered but this ain't the time or place!) (Besides, you aren't down with moons. That's not how you roll.) Yeah, yeah. Look, you know it's bad form to leave a game of table stickball before the empty sockets have swallowed all the roundcircles, but this here's a red-letter meeting with doctor white-words. They need to follow you, see? That's what you two are best at, following, ain'tcha? [#3 - TRACE. Can follow peoples' past trails.] [#5 - FIN. Can follow peoples' future trails.] Fin, you can see where anyone's headed in the near future, yeah? You're just askin', because you'll eat your stylish three point hat if every lug in this room isn't headed right out the door in the VERY near future. Isn't that right, Fin? In your haste, your freight train of chartreuse goons almost railroads one of the bigger stiffs rounding the corner. The stiff says hey chief. Where's the fire? You tell him you didn't think you were walking that fast, to be honest. He says no, he was literally asking where the fire was. So he can put it out. See? [#11 - MATCHSTICKS. Concerned with fire safety. It's everyone's business.]  Back of the line, you say. We all got an appointment with the Doc. Yeah, you know the guy was aimin' for a chuckle outta you. Like you said. Comedy's not your bag. It's no one's bag, really. When you belong to the Felt, you're either as serious as a heart attack, or as dumb as a brain hemorrhage. Or the medically spectacular situation where those two problems coincide. Son of a!!! You tell Sawbuck he can stay in the front of the line with you. No chance in hell this butterball can squeeze by all these green bozos. [#10 - SAWBUCK. Again, don't worry about it. You'll hit him up later.] Last thing you need is another mansion clog. You take a detour to hit the lounge. If your instincts are right, this is where you'll find you know who. For some reason, you can never bring yourself to say her name. Two simple syllables. You're told the word means a child's plaything in the winter, like some kinda frost puppet. Fitting that the sound of it sends a chill down your spine. The boys hesitate to speak of her, just like they hold their fire whenever she fades from black. She's here, just like you thought. Creatures of habit, dames. Not that you have much experience with dames, mind you. You only ever met the one. [#8 - SNOWMAN. If Snowman is killed, the universe is destroyed.]  So uh, hey. Yeah, uh. You tell the dame there's this meeting you see. You know. With the Doc? And... yeah. You mumble a few other things, but you don't know why you're even troubling yourself. That spooky broad doesn't give a flying god damn about what you got to say. You lead your posse into the clock room. Well, A clock room. There are a lot of clocks in the mansion. A few too many if you ask you. There's a tarp over there in the corner, covering something up. Something BIG. Some of the boys don't remember ever seein' no tarp there before. Strikes you as a funny observation coming from them, seeing as you can't even figure how they remember to dress themselves half the time. You say never your damn mind, a mouth like that could only conceivably serve as a gateway to the utterly worthless. Look at this mess. Do you really even need to tell these mooks why whatever it is they're doing in here is dumb as all getout? Oh well, at least there are only two of them this time. [#13 - BISCUITS. Thinks his oven allows him to time travel.]  Biscuits says the rest of us are in the oven. You say did you ASK what's in the fucking oven? You say the next time you ask for a peek in his damn oven it'll be on the account of your prior instruction to bake a god damn cake. Sawbuck says ooh. Cake. No, you gluttonous fool! [#10 - SAWBUCK. Jumps to a random point in time when injured.] You said don't open that oven! Never gonna see the Doc at this rate. And by this rate, you mean going back in time due to perfectly avoidable reasons. You keep pressing on like the true professional you are. This way, lunkhead. Yes sir, he waddles. Ah, rats. Someone else is approaching. You got a feeling you know who it is. Aaand yeah. It's you again. Just what you needed, and were inexorably bound to receive due to the laws of causality. Looks like past-you or future-you or whoever is rounding up the troops. You know what? Whatever, man. He's not even going to ask. And neither are you, 'cause you didn't before, and ain't really feelin' any chattier this time around. This buffoon is still in the middle of his endless friggin' sentence. Unbelievable, the kind of horseshit this line of work entails. You consider how you might speed up his bird brained response. Not that it matters, since this guy never made a remark in his life which didn't function as a powerful sedative. You think about walloping Sawbuck again, to skip to another time. Maybe one good drub'll do ya. No, too risky. Might shoot back a million years in the past. Need to take matters into your own hands, or better yet, hands belonging to some grunt you get paid to boss around. [#15 - CANS. Has the ability to clock a guy into next week.] Oh yeah. As in, you forgot what a racket this two ton galoot made when he makes an entrance. That's what you meant when you said oh yeah. As in, oh yeah, you just remembered that. Anyway, you tell Cans to give the slowpoke a lift and break a leg this-a-way. He says huh? You say grab Doze and follow me. Muscle. You swear to god. If it isn't tweedle-dipshit and tweedle-dumbass again. Why are you not surprised? The reason you aren't surprised is because you knew they would be here, and you sought them out deliberately. You don't say that out loud though, for the same reason you don't ask them to do your taxes. Eggs and Biscuits ask what you're doing here, boss. Just completing the circle of stupidity, you say. You hide under the tarp and swear these two walking jokes to absolute secrecy while this whole mess plays itself out again. Not a peep outta them, or you'll be making breakfast, see? And you don't mean pouring yourself a bowl of Froot Loops, get your drift? They don't get your drift, but time's up. Other-you and the peanut gallery's gonna waltz in any minute. Any minute later... About damned time. Like pulling teeth, herding these fuckups. How long did that even take? Not counting negative time, you mean. "Nineteen pages, it would seem." What? That many? "Yes." Seems like a lot. "Well, there are nearly that many members to gather." "I'd characterize the final tally as predictable, in hindsight." The Doc sure can be a smartass. You keep that thought to yourself. "Not that the omniscient has much use for hindsight. Not even those of us deemed smartasses by our subordinates." You don't got a clue how he does that. And if you're honest with yourself, and him too, you don't much care. "Please see me in my study at once." You heard the man. Let's mosey. They didn't hear a thing, but they follow you anyway. Welcome, minions. Ages ago, beyond a span of time that is impossible to measure in any empirical sense, our master set in motion a critical chain of events. He summoned you all one by one. And in return, you have vowed to serve him for the rest of his interminable life, just as I have sworn to do for the remainder of mine. Yes, you may resemble a flock of unremarkable, unintelligent cretins. But as the servants of a very important man, you, by extension, are also very important. If all thoughts but one escape the cottony substance wadded up inside your heads, let this one be the one you keep. Your mission, which I am about to describe, is but another link in this critical chain. It is far from the last, and even further from the first. There have been many crucial links over the epochs to which I myself have been privy and complicit. I will describe to you in a plurality of detail. Listen carefully. Cripes. Baldy McSoftBody here sure enjoys the sound of his own voice. You wonder if he'll get to the point soon. "I am a patient man, Mr. Seven. It is a quality that has served me well in preparing for the arrival of our master." You wonder how he DOES that. You ain't even talkin' out loud here. This is just a bit of hard boiled, no-nonsense narrative introspection. You're pretty sure it ain't even real in any meaningful respect. "No-nonsense? You flatter yourself. May I continue?" Yeah, yeah. The Doc dives cueball-first through some mad ramble on a fairytale about some giant space frog. You're on pins and needles as you check your watch. You know it ain't lost on a smart cookie like him that checkin' your watch in a room full of clocks is extra passive-aggressive. Yada yada, then he says there's some planet that grew in its belly called Alternicon or what have you. Run by a race of savages it would seem. Long story short, the Doc here fucked with 'em for about a billion damn years and they all died off as a result. Heh. Classic Scratch. Ah, got it. The town they built is Midnight City. It's just a bomb's lob away from the gang's mansion. GREAT place for crimes. Almost like it was put there just so's a load of goons like you could have your run of the place. In fact, you're pretty sure that's why the boss set up shop on this one-town rock, just outside city limits. You know what they say about location. Well, they don't say nothin' special about it. They just say the word two more times, and that pretty much gets the point across. "Cool story." After a few more minutes and a few more barbs exchanged through a conversational medium you still can't quite wrap your head around, Doc wraps up the history lesson. Cripes. Not to second guess the head honcho, but delegating his orders to this bloviating creep is a helluva test to a faithful third officer's loyalty. He's got a folder and says let's get down to business. Let's get down to business. As you can see, I've got a folder. It contains your mission. You will review it carefully. By which I mean, one of you, this organization's faithful third officer. He will lead a team on this mission. No kidding. You take the folder and check it out. Says you're supposed to... Huh. You're supposed to- You're supposed to retrieve a package from an anonymous recipient. I cannot divulge the identity of this man. If you are able to bring the package to me, I will give you further instructions. You are to pick up the package from a courier in the city. He is to rendezvous with you at the supplied address, at a precise time. You are not to be late, and never open the package. Do you all understand what I have said? You scope the crowd. They're bored out of their melons. And, nope. Nobody understands. Except for you. It's your job to understand. CHOOSE YOUR TEAM, CROWBAR. He tells you to pick a team for the job and be on your way. Seems like this pack of lugs has worn out its welcome in his office. Which is an ironic attitude to have for a guy who makes his bones holding men hostage to hours-long anecdotes, but whatever. The team's an easy call. You'll go with the solid colors today. A pickup is light work. You don't see the need to pack any muscle on this trip. Hard to imagine securing a box from a chess guy could ever get too hot to handle. And in any case, the Doc being omniscient surely would let you know in advance if it was gonna go down like that, right? "Any man with my foresight, who had your best interests in mind, would do exactly as you say. Absolutely." Yeah, see? Gotta love the Doc. But then again, it's like you've always said. For a filthy liar, the Doc sure is good at stickin' to the truth. You remember his genteel assurance like a knife stuck in your mind. Hell, maybe that's roughly akin to the way the guy speaks, since he ain't got a mouth to make sound with. You remember piling into this hot car with your six solids and cruising through the desert like it happened last week. Hell, when you wet your whistle on time travel as much as you, maybe it even did. And the first time you got offed? You remember that like it was yesterday. Less than yesterday, even, because that's what you do. Remember things. You remember the first time you laid eyes on the Midnight City skyline. You remember your first kiss. And you remember that fateful night plain as day. The night you met a man named Spades Slick.

[juliairian]

...in which we continue the silly “trapped in a closet AU” writing prompt

(First Part here)

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

John started. “Sorry?”

“Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?”

“Um. Afghanistan. How did you know--?”

“I didn’t know, I saw. Your haircut, your voice, you’re used to receiving orders, but… also giving them. Interesting. Captain, I’d guess, and I rarely guess. Old friend of Mike’s, but not too close as evidenced by him practically forgetting about you like this—“

“He did not--!”

Sherlock rambled on unimpeded. “…But close enough that he’d bring you here; not a date, though, so must be a colleague. Not authorized says former colleague. You trained here, so, army doctor. I only saw your face briefly, but it looked tanned. You don’t seem like the kind of guy to go sunbathing, so you’ve been abroad for the military.”

He took a breath. John was still blinking over the fact that anyone could think him Mike’s date.

“Your cane is lying on the floor, so you have a limp of some kind. However, you haven’t shown any discomfort in that area specifically since we were trapped so you clearly forgot about it in the presence of a more pressing issue. Psychosomatic, then; that suggests trauma. Wounded in action, suntan – Afghanistan or Iraq.”

John gaped. “That was… amazing.”

There was a pause. Sherlock Holmes had stopped rummaging through his pockets and now appeared to hold a few small items in his hands, metal gleaming in the sliver of light. “Do you really think so?” He sounded surprised.

“Of course. We’ve never met. And you just… knew all of that. It was extraordinary. Quite extraordinary.”

John could have sworn the man sucked in a breath. “Oh. That’s not what people usually say.”

“What do they usually say?”

“Piss off.”

And that was it, something cracked. John laughed. After a moment, he heard a deep, answering chuckle from the body in front of him. He relaxed a little.

“John Watson,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Hm? Oh.” The man paused sorting through the things in his palms. He shifted the items to one hand and shook John’s with the other. Firm grip, long, nimble fingers. “Sherlock Holmes, but you knew that already.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Holmes.”

“Oh, please,” Sherlock Holmes scoffed. “Aren’t we a little past pleasantries? We’re stuck in a cupboard, for Christ’s sake.”

He pulled out a particular tool from a set of what appeared to be lock picks. Who just carries lock picks around like that? Perhaps it’s a detective thing, John thought. “Also,” he continued, “Call me Sherlock. Mr. Holmes is my brother, and I avoid thinking about him as much as possible.”

“All right. John, then.”

Sherlock’s quick smile flashed in the sliver of light. John noted an unruly curl as it dropped onto his forehead. He was still fairly close and the fact that Sherlock had begun picking the lock had not improved matters. He shoved away an elbow as it neared his kidneys. “Watch it.”

“Do you want to get out?” Sherlock ignored his efforts to remain unmaimed and went on with his tools.

After a moment, John had to ask. “Why would you say I wasn’t—I mean, why the hell would I be Mike’s date?!”

The faint slanting light illuminated one raised eyebrow. “I said you weren’t. Why would you be?”

“I don’t know,” John bristled, feeling a little uncomfortable.

The man sighed. “You might be obviously bisexual, but Mike Stamford happens to be completely straight. Therefore it is unlikely that you were his date.”

“Ex—excuse me?!” John felt his face flush.

“Oh,” Sherlock tried to straighten, but only managed to wiggle a little closer to John in an effort to be comfortable whilst lock picking. John got another whiff of shampoo and felt the deep voice rumble in the man’s chest. “Were you not aware of that? Sorry. Didn’t mean to spoil the surprise for you.”

“I’m, I think, I—“ John stammered, feeling like the world’s most colossal idiot. “I’m gonna shut up now,” he finished, sagging back against the wall.

“No,” Sherlock said.

“I beg your fucking pardon?!” God, and a minute ago, John had thought this insane person was amazing. What the hell was wrong with him?

“This is boring enough as it is. We might as well make conversation while I work. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“What question?!” John pushed back against the wall to gain some height. He failed miserably and sagged back.

“Why did you stay in the closet?” The man paused, then chuckled. “And yes, I do appreciate the double entendre.”

“What—oh. I get it, very funny.” John felt his face grow warm again.

“Well?”

“You’re the detective,” John grumbled. “Shouldn’t you tell me why I’m in here? Seeing as you know everything else?”

“Very well,” Sherlock said and turned slightly sideways to look him up and down again.

“Oh God, no I didn’t mean—“ John groaned.

Sherlock flashed him a toothy grin. “Be careful what you wish for, doctor.” His voice seemed to have dropped another octave, and it made something warm and heavy unfurl in his belly.

“You get angry quickly, but it dissipates just as fast as it comes. You seem to have a streak of resignation in you, probably since you were invalided home. Understandable. However, you suddenly allowed yourself to speak up and yell at a complete stranger, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about.”

Sherlock smiled in the darkness. “You are a straightforward kind of man, no-nonsense; yet as soon as you’re faced with the utter nonsense of this situation, you relax for what’s probably the first time this month, judging from the buried tension in your muscles. You laughed when others would have been embarrassed or put off. You’re quite the study in contradictions, Doctor. Interesting.”

He shifted around a little and John felt an arm brush his side. “You clearly crave any kind of distraction from your monotonous life, but I think this particular odd occurrence is exactly the thing you needed and you’re only just realising it. Also, there’s the physical aspect. Elevated breathing – not claustrophobia – and a certain tone of voice? You’re attracted to me – bit odd, that, but perhaps it’s because you don’t know me yet, or perhaps simply because of the suggestive position in the closet, the whiff of the forbidden – who knows what kind of attractions the subconscious cooks up? At any rate, if you weren’t as fascinated by the weirdness, as attracted, or as desperate for excitement, I think you would have cried for Stamford the second I entered this closet.”

Sherlock paused. John blinked, completely dumbfounded. “Yes, you were right,” Sherlock sounded pleasantly surprised. “That was much easier than asking you to explain it.”

Several things rushed through John’s head all at once. He said the first thing he managed to grasp a hold off. “You’re a right berk, you know that?”

“Oh, yes,” Sherlock grinned again. “I told you, it’s just because you don’t know me yet.”

John’s first impulse was to deny it outright. But before he could open his mouth, an inner voice just said, he’s right and you know it. Somehow, that made John feel free. Now that this virtual stranger had told him everything there was to know about him, there was no more need to pretend. So he was attracted to a man, big deal. He’d been attracted to plenty of men before, but he’d never confronted himself about it. Suddenly, he realised that Sherlock had told him things even his therapist had a hard time figuring out, which was amazing, truly; but he had also fired all of his ammunition and had practically nothing left to really bother John with. For the first time since he’d returned a broken civilian, John decided to throw caution to the wind and say whatever the hell popped into his head. It wasn’t like he’d ever see this Sherlock Holmes again once they were out of here.

He turned his torso just a little so that he was deliberately crowding Sherlock against the door of the closet. “So, you think I’m interesting, then?”

Sherlock froze. John saw a flutter of lashes in the tiny light beam. “Please,” he scoffed, but it didn’t sound nearly as derisive as Sherlock probably hoped. John grinned.

“You’re one to talk, you know?” He leaned over and up a little and quite deliberately spoke close to Sherlock’s ear. “You could have simply picked another locker. You saw the cane on the floor; you knew someone was in here. Anyone else would have made deliberate attempts to distance themselves in here, but you’re constantly all over me – so either you simply have no concept of personal space, or you’re actually hitting on me in the only way you can, by insulting me to my face – or both. I’m guessing with that kind of attitude you don’t get many friends, yes? Come on, I took psychology 101, your behaviour is pretty textbook. You insult everyone as quickly as possible, take it for granted they hate you and then you don’t have to worry about disappointing anyone ever again. Not a bad plan, to be honest.”

John took a moment to breathe. He could feel Sherlock standing absolutely still. “So. How’s that lock coming along?”

Sherlock clicked his jaw shut. “Impatient,” he grumbled.

“Sounds familiar?”

“Stop it.”

“What?” John grinned.

Sherlock’s head whipped around and the curls tickled John’s face. “Stop trying to do… the thing. Deducing me. It doesn’t suit you.”

“How do you know what suits me, you don’t know really me,” John pointed out.

Sherlock scoffed again. “Seriously? I just laid out your entire personality for you to look at and agonize over.”

“Oh,” John said casually, “but that was just the first impression, wasn’t it? And I think I’ve agonized over myself enough in the past few months. And I get the feeling you were a little surprised just now, and nothing much surprises you, does it? Not with a mind like that.” John was actually quite proud how calm he sounded, when really, his heart was dancing the samba by now. He hadn’t felt this alive since the last time he’d been on a battlefield. This whole conversation could go all kinds of wrong any moment now; in fact, with any other person, it would already have died under the weight of societal convention, politeness and the somewhat British necessity to maintain emotional distance.

Yet with Sherlock Holmes, this seemed to be the only way to chat. Of course, the man was still too observant. He’d given up on the lock picking entirely, it seemed. “Hmm,” he mused, and turned around. With his back to the crack in the door, he blocked out any remaining light. “I have to admit, you’re quite foolishly brave. It’s refreshing. Interesting. Surprising.” With each word, Sherlock inched closer. He leaned in and John felt a smooth cheek brush his own, the eye lashes beating butterfly kisses against his skin. He flushed and simultaneously felt the inconceivable urge to laugh out of sheer happiness. “You know, John,” Sherlock breathed, lowering his voice suggestively; and oh, the way he said his name. “I don’t indulge often in this sort of thing, but I have to say, you sure make being trapped in a closet a lot more entertaining than I’d imagined.”

John wanted to reach out and touch him. He wanted to see what he actually looked like with his hands. He wanted to know if this sort of thing was allowed. How it felt. But the last rational part of his brain told him that sooner or later, they’d get out of this closet, and he needed to at least not die of embarrassment for the moment before they turned their backs on each other.

“I’ll say,” John managed, and for a moment, he felt Sherlock grin against him, his lips briefly brushing his cheek.

Suddenly, Sherlock pulled back. A moment later, John heard why. There were footsteps approaching. “You know,” Sherlock said brightly, “I think this flat-sharing thing will work out splendidly. Don’t you?”

“Flat-sharing?”

“Oh, yes,” Sherlock replied off-handedly. “Isn’t that why you went to lunch with Mike in the first place? I told him this morning I had a difficult time finding anyone I could stand living with. Next thing he traps me in a closet with an old friend who’s just returned from military service, looking for a place to stay.”

John let out a laugh and shook his head. But before he could say anything, the steps approached. “John? Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Mike’s voice rang out. He heard the jangle of a key-ring.

Suddenly, the door was unlocked and pulled open. Sherlock somehow managed not to fall backwards and stepped out of the cupboard gracefully. John slowly picked himself up from the wall he’d been pressed against and sighed.

Sherlock turned to Mike. “Yes, he’ll do,” he said with a wink and turned to leave.

John stumbled after him. “Wait, what?”

Sherlock stepped back and leaned into his personal space again. “Well, that was fun,” Sherlock murmured quietly. “We should do that again sometime.”

“But—“

“Got my eyes on a nice little place in central London, we ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening seven o'clock.”

John suddenly felt the embarrassment rush up at the same time as a hopeful kind of excited. “We've only just met, and we're going to go and look at a flat?” He couldn’t help but notice that Sherlock picked up on his utter excitement and smirked.

“Problem?”

“I—I don’t even know the address.”

“221B Baker Street,” Sherlock said with a grin. “Now I’ve got to dash, I left my riding crop in the mortuary. Afternoon.”

John stared after the madman as he strode out of the lab, his coat flaring after him. Yes, he was actually as attractive as he’d sounded.

“Yeah, he’s always like that,” Mike said with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about the closet thing.”

“Actually, that’s all right,” John grinned and huffed out a little laugh. “I think it did me a world of good, actually.”

Now on AO3 cause I like to be tidy ;-)

[dancingalone21]

Single - Part 2

Summary: Dean tries to plan a camping trip for his son and the reader doesn’t make it easy for him.

Pairing: Daddy!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,578

Part 1

~

"Dean!" Sam's been pounding on his brother's front door for minutes now but there's been no answer. Which is odd considering his precious Impala is parked right in the driveway.

Sam forgoes being polite and proceeds to barge in using his spare key. He's met with the sound of Metallica's Fade To Black blaring throughout the house.

The younger Winchester peeks into the backyard and he spots his nephew Drew running around. Sam decides to say hi first before tracking down his brother.

"Hey kid!"

"Uncle Sam!" Drew races right over with his large Rottweiler Spike close behind.

"What's with the music, buddy?" Sam wonders scratching Spike behind the ears.

"Dad's stressed out." Drew rolls his eyes making his uncle laugh.

"Over what?"

"Dinner I guess. He told me to play outside."

Sam nods his head in confusion before marching inside towards the loud noise. He enters the kitchen to see his brother looking completely overwhelmed.

"What the hell is going on, man?" Sam questions turning the music down to catch Dean's attention.

"I'm just getting shit ready for dinner. What's the problem?" He scowls, now searching for a big enough bowl for the pasta salad.

"I suspect your weird behavior has something to do with Mikey's mom..."

"Aunt. And no it has nothing to do with Y/N."

"Right." Sam quirks an eyebrow. "So is she hot?"

"Oh my god. So hot." Dean instantly growls realizing that he was just tricked.

"There are plenty of hot people in the world, Sammy." He snaps wanting to wipe away his younger brother's smirk.

"Uh huh."

"Jesus Christ." Dean groans opening the pantry. "Can baked beans be considered a vegetable?"

"Uh no. You want to have a vegetable?"

"Chicks eat vegetables don't they?"

"Yeah. Not always though. Corn on the cob usually goes well with grilled food." Sam replies twisting the cap off of a beer.

"Son of a bitch! I didn't think of that."

"I doubt anyone will care that there's no vegetables. Other than me." Sam jokes but he only gets an obnoxious scoff in response.

"Y/N must be special if you're putting in all of this effort. Especially when it's not a date."

"A date? Yeah right. I don't see that ever happening. There's just...there's something off about her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's completely immune to my charms!" Dean exclaims outraged.

"Holy shit. I never thought I'd see the day." Sam replies with a smile.

"Dude. I called Y/N attractive and she looked at me like I offended her. Then I continued to throw out more adjectives but I got nothing. Like no reaction. What the hell is that?!"

"She sounds like a smart girl."

"I hate you." Dean grumbles as he checks the silverware drawer to make sure it's all clean.

"The woman is feisty. And if she's feisty normally then in the bedroom she..."

"Shut up." Sam interjects, there's no way in hell he wants to get that visual.

"You don't even care if Mikey goes camping do you?"

"Of course I do!"

"Nope. This dinner is happening because of Y/N. You can't stand that a girl you want doesn't like you back."

"Oh please, dude. The girl called me ancient and pointed out my gray hairs." Dean counters sending Sam into a laughing fit.

"I like her already." He gets out ignoring Dean's dirty glare.

"Whatever, asshole." Dean responds chucking a hot dog roll at his brother's head.

"What's for dessert...pie?" Sam asks with amusement.

"Of course."

"I hope you bought something else too. What if Y/N doesn't like pie?"

"Then she will get kicked out of this house. I'm not dealing with that nonsense." Dean declares firmly.

"You're such a catch. I can't believe Y/N isn't interested in you." Sam mocks him.

Dean flips him the bird, refusing to waste any more energy on his little brother. Besides, he has more important shit to worry about. Like that you'll be showing up in no time and he still needs to take a shower and get dressed.

Noticing the time himself, Sam sends both Dean and Drew upstairs to get cleaned up while he takes over in the kitchen. He's not a chef by any means but his wife Jess has taught him a thing or two over the years.

Drew and Spike suddenly come barreling into the kitchen, his nephew then focuses his big green eyes on one of his favorite things. Pie. Apple pie to be exact.

"Uncle Sam...can I please have some?" He asks drooling over the dessert on the high counter.

"You're definitely your father's son." Sam mumbles with a shake of his head.

"Huh?" Drew pulls his attention away for two seconds then settles back on the pie. He does his best to reach for it but Sam pushes it away from his grasp.

"Hey!"

"You can have some after dinner, man. You now the rules. If you're hungry, have a yogurt or something."

"A yogurt?" Drew pouts almost looking disgusted. Yup. Definitely Dean's son.

Sam's about to reply when he hears the doorbell ring. Of course Dean isn't finished getting ready yet, the dumb ass is taking his sweet time.

With a labored sigh, Sam swings open the front door to see a very pretty young woman and a kid around Drew's age.

"Hi. You guys must be Y/N and Mikey. I'm Sam." He greets holding out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sam." You smile before casting your eyes down to the heavy plate in your hand.

"Oh I brought chocolate chip cookies." You add softly.

"Cool! The Winchesters definitely like cookies. Come on in." Sam chuckles gesturing for you to follow him. 

You and Mikey are barely in the house two seconds before Drew pops into the room to steal his friend away. You glance around the house and you're pleasantly surprised that it's very clean and impressively decorated. Dean is definitely gaining brownie points for this.

"My brother should be down any minute, he just jumped in the shower." Sam explains. "How about a drink?"

"Sure. I'll have a beer if you have it." You respond anxiously, you need to get some alcohol into your system. A strange smirk crosses Sam's face before he leaves and it makes you wonder what he’s thinking.

"Here ya go, Y/N." He strides fast in your direction with his long legs before plopping down onto the leather couch. You join him and curiously watch as he sips his beer.

"What was that?"

"What?" Sam repeats back.

"I don't know. When I asked for a beer, your reaction was weird." You chuckle nervously. Realization hits him and he shoots you a genuine smile.

"You're from Boston." Sam states. "I heard the accent when you said 'beer'. And I can hear it now that you're talking more."

"And that's funny..." You quirk an eyebrow.

"No. It's hilarious. You're gonna eat Dean alive aren't you?" Sam asks looking entertained.

"What the hell are you talking about?" You laugh before chugging down your drink.

"Dean said you didn't react to him like girls usually do. And now I know why. You're not a small town country girl from Kansas. You're a city girl who doesn't take shit especially something like his cocky routine."

"I see." You think back to earlier today and can't help but roll your eyes at the interaction.

"Well Romeo was overconfident at first and then he got kinda...awkward."

"How do I put this." Sam sighs. "My brother usually doesn't have to try with women. A wink and a smile is usually all it takes. So you're like unchartered territory. He doesn't know what the hell to do."

"You seem happy about this." You point out.

"Hell yeah. Don't get me wrong, he's a really good guy but the girls that come easy are clearly not working out for him."

"And you're just assuming that I like him back?" You counter with a crooked smile.

"Don't you?"

"I...I'm not sure. He's obviously cute but we don't know each other. And I've had my share of douchebags so I'm on the cautious side when it comes to dating."

"I hear yeah. I know..."

"Hey Y/N!" Dean swaggers into the living room and holy fuck does he look delicious. His crisp white t-shirt is showing off his muscles perfectly along with his sexy as hell jeans that fit him wonderfully.

"Hey, Dean. Nice of you to join us." You tease with a grin.

"Not everyone is naturally beautiful like you, sweetheart." He answers smoothly with a wink.

Before you can stop it, a giggle leaves your lips and you see Dean's handsome face automatically light up. He's beyond thrilled to get this reaction from you and it shows. You glance at Sam and he has a knowing smile plastered on his face.

"Let's head outside, guys. I can fire up the grill." Dean claps his hands together looking excited. 

You and Sam both move off of the couch but Sam stops you from trailing behind. He quickly checks to make sure Dean is out of earshot before turning to you.

"Hey. Do me a favor." Sam says quietly.

"What?"

"When it's time for dessert, Dean will be bringing out an apple pie. When he offers it to you, tell him that you don't like it."

"But I do like pie." You raise your eyebrows confused.

"I just want to test something. Please?" The tall bastard uses some sort of trickery with huge puppy dog eyes and it makes you give in.

"I guess. Are you sure?"

"Trust me." Sam replies with a devilish grin.

Part 3

~

[hgfstreamchats]

Cry Baby Lane

thenightetc 08:25 PM hELLO!

thenightetc 08:25 PM ...*Hello!

highglossfinish 08:25 PM Hello!

thenightetc 08:27 PM No sound--or rather the sound seems to be a mic

highglossfinish 08:27 PM Better?

thenightetc 08:28 PM Same.

highglossfinish 08:28 PM Now?

thenightetc 08:28 PM There we go!

highglossfinish 08:28 PM Excellent!

thenightetc 08:29 PM Why indeed.

highglossfinish 08:30 PM Spor.

Starscreamillar joined the party.

thenightetc 08:32 PM The narration is making me think this is a parody

thenightetc 08:32 PM Hello!

Starscreamillar 08:32 PM Greetings

highglossfinish 08:32 PM Just in time!

highglossfinish 08:32 PM Apparently it was real and meant for human children, and scared them all so much they never aired this again.

Starscreamillar 08:33 PM ... Crybaby lane.

highglossfinish 08:33 PM And it became something of an urban legend, but no, it was real.

Thebes joined the party.

thenightetc 08:35 PM Hmmm.

Starscreamillar 08:35 PM This soundtrack is not inspiring fear.

Thebes 08:35 PM brings back memories tho

highglossfinish 08:35 PM No, no it is not.

thenightetc 08:35 PM Does the video keep pausing for anyone else, or is it just me?

thenightetc 08:35 PM Not constantly, but frequently

Thebes 08:36 PM not for me

Starscreamillar 08:36 PM It seems to be running fine for me?

thenightetc 08:36 PM On my end, then.  Bah

thenightetc 08:36 PM I'll close a thing or two

highglossfinish 08:36 PM So will I, just to be sure.

thenightetc 08:37 PM Nah, I doubt it's to do with you

Thebes 08:37 PM such scintillating dialogue

thenightetc 08:38 PM This guy's a real winner

thenightetc 08:38 PM Gee I wonder if anything bad's going to happen to big bro there

Starscreamillar 08:38 PM The xylophone really sells it.

highglossfinish 08:39 PM Sobbing mutilated freak infant ghosts and xylophones. That's the kind of movie we're in for.

thenightetc 08:40 PM Yech.

thenightetc 08:40 PM Why does that tombstone look like a dick

thenightetc 08:40 PM Who is buried THERE

highglossfinish 08:40 PM Someone fun.

thenightetc 08:41 PM That one in particular looks about 20

Starscreamillar 08:42 PM If a teenage boy invites you to the cemetary after dark, there is a 50% chance he will try to steal your skin.

highglossfinish 08:43 PM And a 50% chance he'll try to steal your bones.

thenightetc 08:43 PM hahahah

highglossfinish 08:43 PM What an unpleasant bunch of children.

Starscreamillar 08:43 PM I hope someone steals their skin.

Thebes 08:44 PM I mean, at least some part of them would be of use

Thebes 08:45 PM STOCK SCREAMS

thenightetc 08:45 PM ikr

thenightetc 08:45 PM PFFF

thenightetc 08:46 PM "maybe we should go"

highglossfinish 08:46 PM Back to the surfer music.

thenightetc 08:46 PM "maybe someone else was out here with a hidden speaker?"

Starscreamillar 08:46 PM Glowing worms love surfer music.

thenightetc 08:47 PM So is the twist that the evil twin is the one buried there :thinking:

Starscreamillar 08:47 PM Perhaps they were both evil twins.

highglossfinish 08:48 PM The real evil twin was inside of us all all along.

Thebes 08:49 PM I gotta narrate out loud

Starscreamillar 08:49 PM That would check out.

thenightetc 08:50 PM aw, no

thenightetc 08:51 PM Now I'm all sad because the dog's clearly a goner

highglossfinish 08:52 PM Bring back the dog!

thenightetc 08:52 PM being possessed or whatever

thenightetc 08:53 PM Jesus christ.

highglossfinish 08:53 PM I hate humans.

thenightetc 08:53 PM oh yeah the wind always sounds like crying children

Starscreamillar 08:54 PM Who does not enjoy scaring children?

thenightetc 08:54 PM Sigh.

thenightetc 08:54 PM Yeah we got that.

highglossfinish 08:56 PM Well put, human baby.

thenightetc 08:56 PM Haha, what.

Starscreamillar 08:56 PM What is with these worms?

highglossfinish 08:57 PM And why do they sound like some universe's variant of Starscream?

thenightetc 08:57 PM carl's gonna get his ass kicked by a ghost

Starscreamillar 08:57 PM I resent that.

highglossfinish 08:57 PM You know it's true.

Starscreamillar 08:57 PM Just because it's true does not mean I have to like it.

thenightetc 08:57 PM There, there.

thenightetc 08:58 PM Wait... is his buddy like 7?

Thebes 08:58 PM wow. WOW

Starscreamillar 08:59 PM Oh no...Oh it just keeps getting worse.

thenightetc 08:59 PM Jeez

highglossfinish 08:59 PM Somehow, it just keeps getting worse.

Thebes 09:00 PM what a mature, parental response

Starscreamillar 09:01 PM Is this just ghostly mischief because some idiots said nonsense at a random grave? That's the whole movie?

thenightetc 09:01 PM Guys.

Starscreamillar 09:01 PM And then they were killed by a train.

highglossfinish 09:01 PM While surf music plays.

thenightetc 09:01 PM Don't play chicken with a train.

thenightetc 09:01 PM It can't stop.

Thebes 09:02 PM WE HAVE WORM SIIIIGN

highglossfinish 09:02 PM This is a horrible town full of unpleasant people and I want to see every last one of them dead.

thenightetc 09:02 PM Er...

thenightetc 09:02 PM So it can possess multiple people?

thenightetc 09:03 PM Walk without rhythm!

Starscreamillar 09:03 PM That is an unrealistically spacious grave.

highglossfinish joined the party.

thenightetc 09:04 PM Look, sometimes you just have to spring for the extra large coffin.

highglossfinish 09:05 PM One of the perks of kast was that I never had to worry about losing the stream chat, and yet here we are.

thenightetc 11:05 PM I've got it.

thenightetc 11:05 PM No worries!

thenightetc 11:06 PM "Sure, I COULD go missing for our missing children, but what if I DIED?"

highglossfinish 11:06 PM Scratch that, I no longer hate humans.

thenightetc 11:07 PM Ohhh dear

highglossfinish 11:07 PM I can see why this was never aired again, but not because it was in any way frightening.

thenightetc 11:07 PM Same.

Starscreamillar 11:08 PM Why is not a strong enough word for this.

highglossfinish 11:08 PM Nothing about any of this is right.

thenightetc 11:08 PM Wut.

thenightetc 11:09 PM "You know.  For a dead guy."

thenightetc 11:10 PM Sure, whine about the cost AFTER you've gotten the service.

Starscreamillar 11:10 PM Stiffing the funeral home seems like a good way to get tossed in a pauper's grave when it's your turn.

thenightetc 11:11 PM Ha.

thenightetc 11:11 PM You called it.

thenightetc 11:11 PM "well, it said 'muller' right on the tombstone"

highglossfinish 11:12 PM ...

thenightetc 11:12 PM Wow.  Who could have guessed.

Thebes 11:13 PM oh, it SOUNDS bad, does it

Thebes 11:13 PM SEEMS LEGIT

Starscreamillar 11:13 PM Raising the dead caused a problem... surely raising more dead will make things better!

thenightetc 11:13 PM f

thenightetc 11:14 PM "what did HE say happened"

thenightetc 11:15 PM So he's just going to leave it at that, huh, not going to give his side

thenightetc 11:15 PM with the bull and the train and all

Starscreamillar 11:16 PM We know he is evil, he was watching atomic explosions for fun.

Starscreamillar 11:17 PM That is stupid.

highglossfinish 11:18 PM All of this is stupid.

thenightetc 11:18 PM Surely the reason not to cut too close to the stone is that you could damage the blade or cause an accident

Starscreamillar 11:19 PM Please, murder him with a paperclip. It would be funny.

Starscreamillar 11:20 PM Drat.

thenightetc 11:22 PM Wait, why not have the older guy do it

thenightetc 11:22 PM watch the ROAD, idiot

Starscreamillar 11:23 PM What even is this movie?

thenightetc 11:23 PM Also, guys.  It's a hearse.  There is probably only one in town.

thenightetc 11:24 PM It is very recognizable, is what I'm saying.

highglossfinish 11:24 PM This movie has very little to do with a baby ghost.

thenightetc 11:24 PM Damn, is everyone in town possessed by an evil ghost

thenightetc 11:25 PM That's fair.

thenightetc 11:26 PM Oh shit, are they going to get the cop hit by the train

Starscreamillar 11:27 PM How convenient.

thenightetc 11:27 PM Yeah but your brother was already a shithead.

Starscreamillar 11:28 PM Hit him with the car.

rose110 joined the party.

thenightetc 11:29 PM But this is like... a cornfield?

thenightetc 11:29 PM Wouldn't it get cut every year?

LetsCum joined the party.

thenightetc 11:30 PM Let's not.

thenightetc 11:30 PM I love how the harvester was just... ready to go.

thenightetc 11:31 PM f

Starscreamillar 11:31 PM Swathers love the taste of human meat.

thenightetc 11:31 PM God, it's like they're going to start a musical number.

Thebes 11:31 PM oh, right, teen girl squad.

thenightetc 11:32 PM "uh, the evil ghost that is clearly possessing all of you"

highglossfinish 11:32 PM This is uncomfortable.

thenightetc 11:33 PM Very

thenightetc 11:34 PM God, what if the magic plant in question was like, the tree

thenightetc 11:34 PM Good luck pulling THAT up!

Starscreamillar 11:37 PM Who wrote this, and why did they think it was a good idea?

thenightetc 11:38 PM lol really

Thebes 11:38 PM I could not begin to guess

thenightetc 11:39 PM "why, does it look like something happened"

highglossfinish 11:40 PM Charming.

highglossfinish 11:40 PM And very stable.

thenightetc 11:40 PM What a great sibling relationship.

Starscreamillar 11:40 PM That would be murder.

Starscreamillar 11:41 PM And this was a weird movie. Even for awful children's movies.

highglossfinish 11:41 PM I don't think the world was missing much when this was considered a "lost film."

highglossfinish 11:42 PM Hmm, Let's Game it Out seems to be on a hiatus. Any suggestions to close on?

Thebes 11:42 PM what's the bakery that only brrings pain

thenightetc 11:43 PM Also, https://pastebin.com/rMN8akyA

thenightetc 11:43 PM Oh!

thenightetc 11:43 PM Just a sec

thenightetc 11:43 PM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=blcKeLDDzSM  and

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eUD3P4MGmb0

highglossfinish 11:44 PM Thank you!

thenightetc 11:47 PM See?  It's thematic!

Thebes 11:47 PM they're just trolling him, aren't they.

highglossfinish 11:48 PM Dear Unicron.

thenightetc 11:49 PM I'll BET it was popular.

Starscreamillar 11:49 PM Ken is wearing a lot of eyeshadow.

highglossfinish 11:50 PM I'll say.

thenightetc 11:50 PM They invited two out of those three back.

highglossfinish 11:52 PM That one's Smokescreen.

thenightetc 11:52 PM Gotta specify it's a dry kiss.

highglossfinish 11:53 PM Very important.

highglossfinish 11:54 PM Amazing.

thenightetc 11:54 PM Right?

Thebes 11:55 PM did we ever end up watching the second What's That Name skit?

Thebes 11:55 PM Norman the Doorman

Thebes 11:56 PM omg

thenightetc 11:56 PM Well, there WAS a terrible sequel.

Thebes 11:57 PM also, we are getting a cartoon prologue

highglossfinish 11:57 PM Are we really?

thenightetc 11:57 PM Oh... good........

highglossfinish 11:57 PM That could certainly go either way.

Starscreamillar 11:57 PM Indeed..

highglossfinish 11:57 PM "Jaws-like movie."

Thebes 11:58 PM apparently it's about the adventures of young shop owner and how he comes into possession of Gizmo and supernatural shenanigans

thenightetc 11:58 PM Oh!

Starscreamillar 11:58 PM .... Hmm.

thenightetc 11:58 PM Up for https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3Zq4Zbsrj8 ?

highglossfinish 11:59 PM Absolutely!

thenightetc 11:59 PM Yessss.

highglossfinish 12:00 AM I like where this is going.

thenightetc 12:01 AM This is what I intend to attempt the very instant I have a computer that can run Planet Coaster

thenightetc 12:02 AM I like the river of blood.

highglossfinish 12:02 AM I'm liking the stock photos.

Thebes 12:03 AM it's the exact right lack of fucks to give.

thenightetc 12:07 AM They're here for the cotton candy.

highglossfinish 12:07 AM Who wouldn't be?

thenightetc 12:09 AM Banker: so what do you need this loan for

Starscreamillar 12:09 AM Goo.

thenightetc 12:10 AM Could enjoy.  You know, theoretically.

highglossfinish 12:10 AM On paper.

Thebes 12:11 AM possibly

thenightetc 12:12 AM My god.

highglossfinish 12:14 AM Stuffs.

thenightetc 12:15 AM Oh god.

thenightetc 12:17 AM You don't even have to take away the ladder!

highglossfinish 12:17 AM How efficient!

highglossfinish 12:17 AM "The most exciting thing since T."

thenightetc 12:19 AM

thenightetc 12:19 AM Can't imagine why someone would be nauseous from being turned upside down over and over for an hour!

highglossfinish 12:20 AM It's a mystery!

thenightetc 12:21 AM Not to actually ride it, of course.  They just want to look at it.

thenightetc 12:22 AM There IS.

thenightetc 12:26 AM Heh.

highglossfinish 12:27 AM This is fantastic.

Starscreamillar 12:28 AM Excellently evil.

thenightetc 12:28 AM It really is.

thenightetc 12:30 AM If you do, it's the shark tank for you.

highglossfinish 12:31 AM Planet Coaster doesn't let you do this and therefore it's not worth the time or money.

Starscreamillar 12:31 AM Tsk tsk.

highglossfinish 12:31 AM Well, that was amazing!

thenightetc 12:32 AM It WAS.

highglossfinish 12:33 AM Well, that was a perfect note to end the night on.

Starscreamillar 12:33 AM I agree. Thank you for streaming, it was good to catch the madness once again.

thenightetc 12:33 AM Yes, thank you for hosting!

highglossfinish 12:33 AM Thank you for coming!

thenightetc 12:33 AM And here was the pastebin of the part of the chatlog you lost https://pastebin.com/rMN8akyA

highglossfinish 12:34 AM You're a saint.

thenightetc 12:34 AM Do you have the rest?  It doesn't seem to disappear for me.

highglossfinish 12:35 AM I do!

thenightetc 12:35 AM Good, good.

thenightetc 12:35 AM Goodnight, then!

highglossfinish 12:37 AM Good night!

Thebes 12:37 AM good night!

[robinhoodrevisited]

Man of God? (pt.3)

Kingsbridge. Marketplace. (Marian walks with Tuck through the marketplace. She keeps a cautious eye on the crowded street in case any of the castle guard appear suddenly.) Tuck: (Smiles:) "You really shouldn't worry. Once we've spoken with Bishop Waleran you and your friends will be welcomed here with open arms, you'll see." Marian: "Well until then I'm not taking any- (Marian collides with a woman:) Ooof! I'm so sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention. (The woman straightens and turns to face her:) Aliena? Oh my goodness! (The two women embrace as Tuck watches them smiling:) It's so good to see you!" Aliena: (Smiles:) "And you also, what brings you to Kingsbridge?" Marian: (Frowns slightly:) "Oh, we're on a mission." Aliena: "We? You and brother Tuck?" Marian: (Turns to Tuck:) "You know each other?" Tuck: "Of course, everyone knows Aliena's wool is the finest around." Marian: (Turning back to Aliena:) "Is that so?" Aliena: (Beams:) "Forty thousand sheep sold me their winter coats, would you believe it? It's cost me two hundred pounds but I'll make three. Even I lose my breath when I think about it." Marian: "That's wonderful. I'm so pleased for you. (Looks around:) You do this all by yourself?" Aliena: "No, Jack helps when he can but he's taken on more work to help keep us afloat. We need as much money as we can get, what with the baby and all." Marian: (Smiles:) "You're a mother? That's amazing!" (A red headed woman steps out from behind Aliena's stall, previously hidden from view. In her arms she holds a baby.) Ellen: "We've managed so far between us." Marian: (Gasps:) "Is this him?" Aliena: (Nods:) "Marian, I'd like you to meet Jack's mother, Ellen. (Marian nods to her:) And, this is Tom." Marian: (Cooing at the baby:) "I'm very pleased to meet you, Tom. (Straightening up, to Ellen:) You must be very proud." Tuck: (Steps in:) "Marian, you stay here, catch up with your friends. I'll go and speak with the Bishop and ask him to meet us back at the rectory." Marian: "Yes, alright, if you're sure?" Tuck: "Positive. I'll see you in a little while." (Tuck eyes Ellen warily then turns and heads towards the castle. Ellen notices the look but says nothing.) Marian: "So how's Jack taking to fatherhood?" Jack: (Coming from another direction:) "Like a duck to water. (Smiles:) Hello, Marian." (The pair hug as Ellen continues to watch Tuck.) Marian: (Pulling away:) "You're looking well." Ellen: (Her attention pulled back to the conversation:) "He's looking thin. You're not eating enough, Jack." Jack: (Brightly:) "You fed me too well, growing up is all Ma." Ellen: "You look exhausted." Jack: "It's worth every moment of it, trust me. But speaking of food, I've come to eat lunch with my wife." (Walks over and kisses Aliena.) Aliena: (To Marian:) "You'll join us, yes?" Marian: "Well I wouldn't want to impose." Jack: "Nonsense, the more the merrier." Aliena: "Exactly, Tom should spend some time with his cousin after all." (Marian smiles as Aliena begins to pack away her stall for lunch.)

Outside the Rectory. Some Time Later. (Allan, Much & Little John walk the grounds.) Allan: "I'm not being funny but Robin and Gisborne bicker like a couple of women." Much: (Glancing back:) "I still don't think we should've left them alone." Little John: "Oh leave them be. Allan's right, let them squabble between themselves, give our ears a rest." Much: "But what if words turn to fists once again?" Little John: "What if it does? (Frustrated:) What are we even doing here? We travel half way across the country for what? To aid the Celts? We should be home right now defending the people of Nottingham. People depend on us and we've abandoned them." Allan: "Yeah well it wasn't like we had much choice in the matter was it? Anyway we're here now. The sooner we do what we came here to do, the sooner we can leave." (The trio's conversation is cut short as the sound of horse's hoofbeats can be heard approaching. They duck behind a building.) Waleran: (On horseback to his guards:) "Remember men, we want Hood and his men alive. At least for now." (As Waleran and his guard pass, Allan peeks around a corner.) Allan: "Well that didn't sound good." Much: "We can't let them take Robin." Allan: "So what do we do?" Little John: (Gruffly:) "What we always do, fight!" (Little John roars and runs after the men on horseback as Allan and Much exchange looks before following.)

(Little John rushes and knocks two guards off their horses. Much sprints to them. Waleran stops his horse and looks back. Much kicks a guard down again as he runs towards four more mounted guards galloping down the road. Allan runs in and engages a fallen guard with his dual swords as Much grabs the banner of a horseman to pull him off his mount and Little John pulls off another.) Little John: (Yelling at a guard on the ground:) “Get off! Get off! Get off!” (Allan blocks an overhead blow with both swords held together, then blocks with his left sword and punches the guard with his right st. Little John knocks out the other fallen guard. Waleran turns his horse around as the remaining horsemen group together drawing their crossbows.) Waleran: “Surrender yourselves now or I’ll have no choice but to have you shot in the street like animals.” (Realising the odds just aren’t in their favour, the outlaws reluctantly throw down their weapons.)

Jack & Aliena's Home. Marian: (Incredulous:) "Arrested? But why? (Tuck says nothing unable to look at her.) I thought you said Waleran was supportive of our cause?" Ellen: (Stepping forward:) "If I may, I think I might be able to shed some light on Bishop Waleran's motives." Marian: (Turning to her:) "You know the Bishop?" Ellen: "For many years. I've long held my suspicions about him." Marian: "Suspicions? Ellen, please, tell me everything." Ellen: "It has to do with Jack's father. He had a secret, something to do with the ring he had. He wouldn't tell me what it was, only the King could hear what he had to say, he said. He asked me for a quill, paper, sealing wax and ink then locked himself away in the barn for privacy. I then went to my priest confessor for help. I told the priest of how Jack's father needed to speak with the King urgently. The next day Jack's father was taken from our home and accused of stealing the Kingsbridge prior's chalice." Marian: "What happened to him?" Ellen: (Looking to Jack:) "He was tortured and he confessed. Then his tongue was cut out. He was swiftly brought to trial. The prior who's chalice was stolen testified against him. The Lord of the district served as his judge and my priest confessor passed sentence. Jack's father was burned at the stake. (Ellen pauses to compose herself as Marian patiently waits for her to continue.) I cursed all three men that day. I told the Prior his church would burn down, the Lord that his children will die violent deaths." Marian: "And the priest? Can I assume he was Waleran?" Ellen: (Nods:) "I told him that he would climb very high... only to fall." Aliena: "What was the secret they didn't want him to tell?" Ellen: "I never learned. I found his ring though, the ring Jack still wears to this day. But no paper. (Glances over at Tuck:) So yes, I know all about Waleran and his true nature. Your friend over there fears me. And he fears the words I speak because he knows they are the truth." Tuck: (Finally looks over at Ellen:) "I don't fear you. I oppose what you stand for which is hatred of God and church and morality." Ellen: "I love God. Though I don't worship Her the same way as you do. My church has as many rules as yours and is a lot more forgiving. And, as for morality, I use love as my compass which Christ seemed to approve of, even if you don't." Jack: "Ma, that's enough." (Marian turns toward Tuck.) Marian: "You have to help me free them." Tuck: (Nods:) "I will speak again to the Bishop. Hopefully that will give you enough time to come up with a plan with Robin." Marian: (Confused:) "Robin? What do you mean?" Tuck: "He's still at the rectory with Gisborne. Only three of your friends were captured." Marian: (Scoffs:) "Do you think they know what's happened?" Tuck: "I couldn't say. I don't believe Waleran's men reached the rectory before your friends attacked them." (Marian's mood brightens a little at this curious stroke of luck.) Marian: (Turning to the others:) "I've got to go." (Aliena nods as Marian turns and leaves the room.)

Powis. Commander's Tent. (Djaq & Will stand together watching as the Commander reads the Great Pact of Nottingham.) Lexa: (Pacing the tent slowly:) "This is precisely what we need. Cold, irrefutable proof of these men's treachery. With this we can eliminate those who would stand with Prince John against the King." Clarke: (Skeptically:) "What do you suggest? You lead your army to each of the regions represented on the pact and demand that the people turn over their leaders?" Lexa: "And you have a problem with this?" Clarke: (Laughs nervously:) "How long do you think Prince John will allow that to happen before he retaliates? You leave yourself open to attack from several fronts." Indra: "Just more English for us to kill." Lexa: "That's enough, Indra. So tell us, Clarke, how does this end? Perhaps you've come up with a way to save your people?" Clarke: "No, only together can we do that. Your army was slaughtered by men loyal to the Prince. You have every right to respond. Every right to attack those towns and cities who would harbour your enemies. Or, you can bide your time." Indra: "Why should we wait? Blood must have blood." Clarke: "Really? Because the way I see it, the only way that ends is with everyone dead. (To Lexa:) The men who attacked your army will be expecting you to respond the way you always do. What if instead you wait for the right time to strike in the right way." Lexa: "You're suggesting I let the massacre go unavenged." Clarke: "I'm saying that if you attack those cities that you'd be playing right into the Prince's hands. He wants you to be seen as bloodthirsty savages. He needs you to play the villain to his conquering hero. And, pact or not, that's exactly how the people will see you if you bring your army to their doors. It's this endless cycle of violence that has kept our people and our nations apart for so long. So what kind of leader do you want to be? The kind who kills every chance she gets because that's your way? Or the kind who shows the world a better way? Someone has to take the first step. Let it be you. (Lexa turns away from her but Clarke follows:) You say you want peace, that everything you've done was to achieve that. Yet here we stand on the brink of another war. The King of England stands on the battlefield hundreds of miles away unable to find the strength within himself to end his war. Here you have the chance to end a war before it begins." (Lexa stares at Clarke considering her words.) Indra: "Commander, you can't seriously be considering this." (There is a long pause as Lexa's eyes never leave Clarke's.) Lexa: "I'm not considering it. (Will and Djaq exchange anxious glances and Clarke holds her breath:) I'm doing it." Indra: "Heda, please." (Clarke sighs in relief.) Lexa: "Indra, our people act as if war is easier than peace. If that's so should we not try and achieve the more difficult goal?" Indra: "Powis will not support you. Titus-" Lexa: (Sharply:) "Titus is my subject. They are all my subjects! (Indra stares up at the Commander then glances at Clarke:) Do you say they will defy me? (Indra slowly looks back up at her Commander but does not speak:) Will you defy me?" Indra: (Without hesitation:) "No, Heda. I will not." Lexa: "Then let it be known. (Turning back to watch Clarke as she speaks her next words:) Blood must not have blood."

Waleran’s Quarters. (Bishop Waleran is seated behind his desk, hands clasped together listening to Tuck’s pleas.) Waleran: “Brother Tuck...” Tuck: “Every day it gets worse. Injustice, cruelty, corruption. The people suffer and they starve. And you’d take their hope away from them?” Waleran: “Hood took that away from them the moment he sided with the Celts against his own people. He and the Princess both worship-“ Tuck: (Interrupting:) "Oh don’t give me that nonsense, Bishop! Why are you trying to demonise these men? These men who stand up for the oppressed.” Waleran: “I don’t care what you believe! I have done everything in my power to make Kingsbridge a Haven for its populace. The markets thrive, crime is almost non-existent and taxes go directly to the upkeep of the city. I and the lord God should be their hero, not this...outlaw. (Sighs:) Prince John wants them broken. Like it or not, the Prince rules England in his brother’s absence. I cannot harbour fugitives from justice and expect Prince John to allow Kingsbridge to remain intact.” Tuck: “So you bring false charges against them to facilitate their execution?” Waleran: (Finally losing his temper, rising to his feet:) “The Celts worship the devil! The Princess, Hood and his men are guilty by association. Hood and his men are to be burned at the stake for crimes against the church.” Tuck: “I am part of the church and-” Waleran: “Then why do you defy me? Obey me.” Tuck: (Taken aback:) “I obey God before you.” Waleran: “The church has rules and hierarchy.” Tuck: “I obey my heart-” Waleran: “Kneel before me, now. Or find yourself joining the heretics at the stake. (Waleran proffers his hand to Tuck expectantly. Tuck stares at Waleran a moment defiant. Then slowly kneels, taking the Bishop’s hand and kisses the ring.) Good. We’ll say no more about this, brother. You are dismissed.” (Tuck rises to his feet, turns without looking at the Bishop and leaves the room, a determined look upon his face.) The Dew Drop Inn. (Having hastily collected Robin and Gisborne from the rectory, Marian has filled both men in on the situation they now face. Needing a plan of action, the trio have found themselves inside a tavern sitting at a table in the corner with their backs to the wall, eating.) Gisborne: “So we’ve got a few fairly difficult problems. (Robin takes a drink from his cup.) One, we're down to half our number." Marian: "Two, Bishop Waleran is beloved by everyone here yet secretly supports Prince John." (Gisborne puts a bit of chicken in his mouth. Robin swallows his ale.) Robin: "Those aren't problems. Waleran may be popular but as popular as Robin Hood? (Marian rolls her eyes at his bravado:) I don't think so. And we'll free the lads as soon as we get inside the castle." Gisborne: “Which brings us to another problem.” Man: “Enough! That’s it!” (Robin and Gisborne both suddenly sit back to avoid a chair thrown between them. They both yell in irritation back at the patrons.) Robin/Gisborne: “Oi!” (They grab their cups from the table and stand up as two wrestling men fall into the table in front of theirs, knocking it over. Marian steps around their table, picks up one of the men and punches him with her cup as a roast chicken soars past her head. Robin punches the other man with his cup as he is getting up. Robin & Gisborne both duck behind the overturned table as the fighting continues among Marian and the other patrons. Food, cups and plates are thrown indiscriminately.) Gisborne: “Don’t you think we should help her?” Robin: “Nah, trust me Marian’s having way too much fun. Besides, I think I have a — (ducks a flying cup.) — I have a plan.” Gisborne: “I’m listening.” (Robin shields his face with his hands as Marian pushes a man past him into a post.) Robin: “You, er... you get arrested... (Robin ducks another cup as Gisborne makes a face indicating he already dislikes this plan.) ... get taken to the dungeons, find the others and then... I’ll bribe the guards. I’ll come and see you.“ Gisborne: “And then what?” (Puts his arm up to block.) Robin: “And then we escape!” Gisborne: “How?” Robin: “Well, I don’t know. I haven’t worked that out yet, have I?” (The sheriff’s guards enter to break up the fight and arrest the troublemakers. Marian shoves a man towards them. Gisborne stands, the danger passed.) Gisborne: “Forget it. It’ll never work.” Robin: “Why not?” (Stands.) Gisborne: (Sits back down in his chair.) “Because I’m not going to get myself arrested.“ Robin: “Why not?” Gisborne: “’Cause you’ll leave me in the dungeon.” (Sets his cup firmly on the table.) Robin: (Picks up his cup from the floor and sits down.) “I will not leave you in the dungeons. You have my word.“ (The guards force their new prisoners out the door. As Marian walks back to the table.) Gisborne: “You see, that’s where this falls down.” (The tavern is quiet now. Three guards stand near the door.) Robin: (A bit flustered:) “Well, all right. Well, I’ll get myself arrested then.” Gisborne: “Now that sounds like a better plan.” Robin: “And you come and get me out.” (Gisborne tilts his head and gives Robin a “would I?” look. Robin chuckles with a sneer, realising their dilemma.) Gisborne: “See, suddenly it’s not such a good idea, is it?” Robin: “You know, I’m not sure if I trust you yet. But we’re about to find out.” (Robin picks up a loaf of bread from their table as Gisborne stands up. To Gisborne’s surprise, Robin aims and is about to throw it at a guard, before Marian grabs his arm.) Marian: “Sit. Down. (Robin smirks then releases the bread and sits down. Marian looks to Gisborne who also takes his seat.) Let me guess, you were going to go with Allan’s plan and get yourself thrown into the dungeons?” Robin: (Defensively:) “Well we do need to get inside.” Marian: “Not by becoming an inmate! (Sighs:) Do neither of you know anything about castle security? Its weak points and where to target?” Robin: (Folds his arms:) “We weren’t all brought up living in one, Marian.” Gisborne: (To Marian:) “I’m assuming you do?” Marian: “I have some ideas, yes.” Robin: (Smiles:) “Good. Then you’re in charge.”

[tellywoodtrash]

ishqbaaz 06.04.17 lb

they should just have kept this scene in its entirety for today, rather than showing us half of it yesterday and then editing it to be noticeably different in today’s ep. 😕😕😕

@ shivaay: by “dard”, are you actually meaning GUILT? coz yeah, you should be feeling a lot of dard, and she should feel none. 😑😑😑

or is this a callback to nakuul’s old show “pyaar ka dard hai meetha meetha pyaara pyaara”??? 🤔🤔🤔 (which wow... what a mouthful. and an absolutely terrible fucking name for a show.)

... someone’s gonna come and interrupt this moment thanks to the plate breaking, aren’t they? i’m 101% sure they are. 😗😗😗

um, actually twisting her arm and asking her “dard hua?” is... just... like what even is this weirdass scene man? it’s not romantic, it’s creepy. i’m just side eyeing it. have been for 24 hours now. 😒😒😒

LMAOOOOO I HAD A FEELING IT WOULD BE RUDRA! 😆😆😆

 *growly voice* “pitega, nikal yahan se!” 

lolololol. bhaiyya is coming down to threatening baby bro with violence for being a cockblock. 😂😂😂

LMAOOOOOO SHIVAAY JUST THREW A CARROT AT HIM!!! 😂😂😂

how nice of kameeni to come down here and feed saumya. must say, this family is a very considerate set of kidnappers, who are so concerned about their hostages’ well-being. 😊😊😊

fuckkkkkkkkkkkkk ranveeer. i hate him so much. can’t wait till the obros get their hands on him. can’t fucking wait. 😠😠😠

GIRL WHY DIDN’T YOU USE THIS VOICE OF YOURS EARLIER???? 😩😩😩

what even is this weirdass mood shivaay is in? bring back smooooth shivaay, whose M.O was teasing anika and making her blush and giggle. i don’t like this overly intense creepy aashiq mode. 😣😣😣

“aankhon mein dekho, aankhon mein dekho. aankhon mein kya sholay chal rahi hai ki main aankhon mein dekhoon?? aur kuch kaam nahi hai mujhe????” 

lmaoooo anika is so meeee, can’t handle this kinda overly romantic nonsense. 😌😌😌

... the writing of this scene is allllllll over the fucking place. one second he’s saying no one could mistake mahi for him, next second he’s agreeing with her that they could... like what even is happening? 😕😕😕

lmaooooo “babloo the bluetooth”, jo shivaay ke kaan se chamgadar ki tarah hamesha chipka rehta hai. 😂😂😂

ok “billuji ka babloo” sounds like something dirty. 😆😆😆

lmao, i can’t wait to see rudra’s reaction to that, coz i’m sureeeeeee his mind is going to go in the same direction as mine. 😂😂😂

lolllllll his resignation at the “oye oye”; he’s just like “whatever, it’s not like my opinion matters here anyway. 😕😕😕” 

oooooh, smooth shivaay is in the house. 😏😏😏

but is brutally rebuffed by overly-efficient wife. 😋😋😋

“shivaay singh oberoi platein... plates uthaayega?? 😒😒😒” “giraayi maine thi ya aapne???? 😑😑😑” “main uthaa raha hoon. 😶😶😶”

hee hee hee, look at him being scared of wife. good. i like. 😊😊😊

WHAT EVEN IS THIS... THIS WHOLE STUPID MOOD HE’S IN IS BIZARRE AND IRRITATING AND NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT ROMANTIC. I’M AS ANNOYED AS ANIKA IS, IF NOT MORE. 😤😤😤

aw man his laugh thoughhhhh. 💗💗💗 ugh. such cuteeeeeee. 😍😍😍 so fucking unfair that this weirdo asshole has suchhhhhh an adorable face at times. 😫😫😫

“choreographer” in a 4 Lions show is code word for “time now to make lots of homophobic/transphobic jokes.” 😒😒😒

aaaaaaand dadi’s made the first one. 😤😤😤

isn’t this the same choreographer from the first few eps who kept hitting on rudra? 😐😐😐

yep, it’s him. ughhhhhhhhhh fwding. zero interest in this garbage. 🙄🙄🙄

fwd fwd fwd ⏩⏩⏩⏩

WAIT WHAT’S THIS?!?!?!

REWINDING!!!!!!! ⏪⏪⏪

ok creepy choreo just force-stripped mahi ve and made him run away. BUT HE COULD COME BACK ANY MINUTE. WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN SHIVAAY DOING HERE????? 😑😑😑

this is what happens when men start thinking with their downstairs brain. keep it in your pants till you are done with the plan, you idiot. 🙄🙄🙄

what even is he mumbling? i swear i can’t understand 70% of what nakuul is saying today. ENUNCIATE, DUDE. 😒😒😒

oh boy oh boy oh boy, mahi ve’s making his way back. SHIVAAY, GTFO THERE! 😬😬😬

WHY IS THIS DISCUSSION HAPPENING RIGHT NOW? DON’T YOU PPL HAVE PHONES????? CAN’T YOU JUST DO THIS ON THE OBEROI FAMILY WHATSAPP GROUP????????? 😫😫😫

lmao tej “sochna bhi mat! sensex gir jayega!” 😂😂😂

prinku: “meri toh shaadi hai, main kaise mar sakti hoon???”

girl please, marrying ranveer is going to be worse than death and you fully know it. take the opportunity while it’s being presented and get out of this godforsaken rishta asap. 🙄🙄🙄

OYE OYE!!!!!!!!!! OYE OYE!!!!!!!!!! OYE FUCKING OYE YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😩😩😩

... already calling that it’s gonna be red herring. 😒😒😒

pffffffffffft. knew it. 🙄🙄🙄

WHAT EVEN IS THE WRITING OF THIS EPISODE, IT’S SO FUCKING BULLSHIT. IT MIGHT BE THE WORST FUCKING EPISODE I’VE SEEN OF THIS SHOW. 😤😤😤

khanna ka murder hoga???? so lame. 🙄🙄🙄

“theek hai sir, main aapke liye laash banne ke liye tayaar hoon.”

pffffft, tu waise bhi laash se kuch kam nahi hai, khanna. a corpse and you would manage to have the same level of success at this job. which is ZERO. 😑😑😑

he LITERALLY just said that he’ll fight with mahi ve, and that’ll be the motive. 

OH GOD, NO, NOT FUCKING RANVEER. SHIVAAY I SWEAR TO GOD I THINK SOMETHING RATTLED LOOSE IN YOUR FUCKING HEAD WHEN YOU JUMPED FROM THAT PLANE. 🤦🏽🤦🏽🤦🏽

you know what a better plan would have been? shivaay following mahi ve and taking his place and knowing who was involved. this is the stupidest fucking plan ever. 🙄🙄🙄

WHY AREN’T THEY NOTICING THAT THIS FUCKING FOOTAGE IS LOOPED. LORD. SO STOOPID!!!!!!!!!!!! 😤😤😤

wait, IS THIS shivaay as mahi??? he’s kinda reacting to this whole thing like shivaay would???? or does kameeni not bother telling mahi ve any of her plans? 🤔🤔🤔

... how exactly will you get ALL their money? are you just talking about the 200 crore worth of diamonds? i think they have way more than that? what’s the plan to get the rest of it????? 😐😐😐

also, someone explain to me, is daksh really kameeni’s brother? daksh khurana is the son of some pretty big delhi family (hence childhood friends with the obros), so what is the khurana daughter doing living in a chawl with an illegitimate son??? 🤔🤔🤔 or did they just meet on some “i hate the oberois!” page on the internet and team up to fuck with the family? SOMEONE ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!!! 😩😩😩

jesus christ the overacting. 😬😬😬

shakti WTF?????

when RUDRA of all ppl thinks you’re overacting, imagine the level of overacting you were doing. 😐😐😐

the kitchen is nowhere near here, is it???? is saumya running around in the basement clanking chains or something??? 😕😕😕

ouff, ab yeh kaunsa shivaay waala hai? how the f are we supp to tell them apart? SOMEONE PUT A MARK OF SOME KIND ON ONE OF THEIR FACES OR SOMETHING À LA ANDAZ APNA APNA. 😖😖😖

... god what a manufactured conflict. ugh, i don’t even wanna watch this plot anymore, it’s getting to be too fucking tiresome. 😡😡😡