#(costume error sure but let me imagine things)

[lenievi]

all the mckirk scenes in Operation -- Annihilate!! are so good. like the spones angst is fine, but the mckirk tension and angst are chef’s kiss <3

[tasteleeknow]

handled.

minors dni. minho x fem!reader. hands on necks (not exactly choking but choking adjacent). dirty talk. slightly rough piv. soft!dom minho.

It's not what you expect, the first time someone reaches out to wrap their fingers around your throat. It's during a lesson in self-defence, part of a compulsory skill. You flinch away as their fingertips graze your skin, scrunching your shoulders at the unnatural feeling. It's not a neutral act, a simple experience of skin on skin.

There's something deep down, an instinct designed to make the feeling of another person's hands around your neck inherently discomforting.

It takes many attempts for you to build a tolerance to it, the anxious feeling never settling completely despite your ability to hold still.

It was hard to imagine how the act could ever elicit anything other than that deep, instinctual urge to squirm away.

Until him.

His fingers flex as he tugs the black glove down his wrist a little further. It's a vital part of his costume as far as your concerned, a last minute addition ties up his all-black theme perfectly.

"Are you having fun?" you question, back pressed against a wall in a dark corner of the room.

The New Year was around the corner, the costume party in full swing around you. It'd taken a doe eyed look and a soft kiss to his neck to convince your boyfriend to join you.

He offers you a small lopsided smile, the delicate lip ring balanced prettily on his lower lip. "Mm," he hums with a small nod.

You tug him a little closer, "You sure? I know it's a little more crowded than I—"

"I'm fine," he says, the bare fingers of his glove free hand stroking gently over your wrist. "I'm all good."

If you were being totally honest with yourself, a (not so small) part of you hope he'd ask to leave. Getting him dressed up like this was the best part of the entire night, you'd decided. Now, you'd very much rather be at home taking the costume off him than stand around in a crowd of drunk partygoers.

The lip ring presses into his plush lip a little as he nibbles at it for a moment. You could leave the accessories on him. The ring, the silver necklace hanging around his collar—just long enough to tickle your chin if he was above you... and then there was the glove. Your eyes drop involuntarily to the hand in question.

"What about you?" Minho asks, tugging your eyes back to his.

"Hm?"

"Having fun?"

You blink.

He smiles, keenly aware of your propensity to drift elsewhere. "What you thinking about?" he asks. You would have answered him. You were too far into your relationship to be timid about such things. But then... then he reaches up with that hand... the dark, smooth fabric cool against your skin as he tilts your chin up a little. "Talk to me," he encourages gently.

Oh, he knows. Of course, he knows.

"Do you like my costume?"

His eyes drop down your body quickly. "Mm," he hums. "Very pretty."

"I like yours too."

He fails to suppress an amused, knowing smile. "Yeah?" His hand drifts from your chin along your jaw, coming to rest just below your ear. It allows his gloved thumb to play with your lobe a little as he steps into you a little more. "What do you like about it?"

"Fishing for compliments?"

"You seem desperate to offer them."

You frown, "No."

"No?" he questions, stepping even closer. He's pressed against you now, warm and dark—a barrier between you and the rest of the room. "My sweet girl wouldn't lie to me." He leans over you, lips brushing your jawline. "Would she?" he adds with a whisper. His breath tickles, hot against your sensitive neck.

You realise your error then. It was too late. The time had passed for you to drag him home and tear the dark clothes from him in the privacy of your shared apartment.

It was happening here.

Your eyes flick quickly across the room before you're grabbing his wrist and tugging him along with you, dodging drunk friends and acquaintances as you beeline for the hallway door.

Minho chuckles behind you, letting you tug him along without resistance.

You'd let you of tomorrow contemplate the decisions you make next. When you find each room taken, occupied by a couple or a group of intoxicated friends, you tug open the laundry door and slam it behind you both. There's a small lock on the door handle. You twist it.

"You like it that much, then?" Minho says from behind you.

He's leaning against the washing machine when you turn, arms crossed—sleeves rolled to his elbows.

You take in a few shallow breaths before he's stepping towards you and lifting you off your feet. It shouldn't be as easy as it is for him to lift you on top of the dryer. He settles between your legs, hands gliding up and down your thighs a few times.

His dark hair has loosened a little over the evening, the hairspray you'd used to keep it in place off his forehead giving into the humidity and copious tousles by distracted fingers. There's a lock hanging just over one of his eyes.

You reach up to brush it aside delicately.

"I lied," Minho whispers, seemingly prompted out of silence by your action. "When I said it's pretty..." he thumbs at the hem of your dress where he's slipped it up your thigh. "...I lied." His fingers brush your skin on one thigh, the fabric of his glove is cold against the other. "Pretty isn't right," he continues. "It makes me want to hold you down... sink into you..." His gloved hand snakes up your side slowly, coming to rest at the base of your neck. His fingers are splayed out across your collarbones, just below the point that would normally make you itch to squirm away.

"Min?"

His eyes flick up from your neck. His fingers twitch against you. "Mm," he hums. It's a sweet sound, in total contrast to the way he looks at you. Like he wants to tear you apart. You find you like the idea. You also find... that you wish his fingers would inch up just a little.

It's not a thought you dwell on. Instead you reach up slowly, like he might spook, and wrap your fingers around his wrist.. then slowly... gently... you guide his hand up to your throat. His eyes stay fixed on yours; his fingers ghost light on your skin.

"Don't look at me like that," he says as your fingers squeeze his wrist. "All fucking sweet like you don't want me to—"

"Please," you interrupt.

He leans forward with a groan, lips pressing to the side of your neck. He squeezes slightly at the movement. It's enough to have you dropping your head back.

It's different. It's so different to how it'd been with a stranger, with someone other than him. This makes you want to crawl under his skin, beg him to hold you and consume you—to take you. His. His. His.

"Minho," you gasp as his lips part and suck at your neck, his wet tongue poking out to lave at the marks he leaves as he goes.

His hand stays at your neck as he works, a comforting and steady pressure. He's got you, it says.

A tiny clink breaks you from your trance. His lip ring is gone when he pulls back, fallen into the dark and bouncing off things around you as it goes. You could not care less. You tug him back towards you, hands at the back of his neck to guide him. His lips are wet and hot against yours, moving with a laziness that did not at all align with upbeat music and countdown starting outside.

His tongue slips out to meet yours, his body falling over you a little in a desperate attempt to get closer. 8...7...6... the partygoers chant. Your fingers grasp at his hair, tugging a little. He whines. 3...2... You could be anywhere... you ponder as the cheers start and the new year begins. You could be anywhere and anytime, and all that would matter would be whether he was there with you.

His breath comes out in deep gasps when you finally part. It's a brief reprieve. He's on you in the next second, tugging your hips towards his and burying himself inside you. It's your turn to attach yourself to his neck, kissing and biting your way through his sharp drives into you. The dryer bangs against the wall behind you with each one.

"This what you wanted?" he gasps as you fall back on your hands. His hands grasp your hips. One warm. One cold. "Hm?"

His lips glisten with spit, a mixture of each of you. You're about to reach towards him again, desperate to taste him, when he releases one hand from your hip.

It's the bare hand this time, that wraps around your neck. It's worse—better. His fingers twitch each time he pumps into you. Your pulse flutters against them. You can feel it.

Then he pauses, tugs you flush against him—buried deep. "My sweet girl," he says. He presses his fingers into your skin at each side of your neck. It doesn't cut off your breath, instead, your cunt clenches around him—your high taking you off guard. It's a rush, a heaviness in your head that seems to match perfectly with the heavy, fullness of his cock buried deep.

There's something deep down, an instinct designed to make the feeling of another person's hands around your neck inherently discomforting. And then... there's this.

[dearhargrove]

Hii can you do Ethan x Reader where reader grew up with Ethan and his family so she was always close with him and Quinn and they go to the same college and are in Tara’s group but when they go to the party reader gets really drunk and Ethan takes care of her and the next morning reader thanks Ethan and they end up confessing 🫶🫶 (can have slight smut at the end if you want)

Let me care for you

Ethan Landry x fem!reader (but isn't specified I think)

summary You're drunk - your eyes unfocused and mind working at 0.5 speed. But one thing you knew for certain was that Ethan Landry was half-carrying you to your dorm and taking care of you.

word count 1426

warnings swearing, alcohol

a/n this was so cute! I wrote this dead tired and google docs wouldn't spell check, so if there's any errors tell me pls <3 otherwise enjoy! Oh, also: I know I made Ethan a lil more confident than he probably is canonically BUT him and reader have known each other for so long he's just comfortable around her and doesn't second-guess himself! Hope y'all don't mind and I also don't think it's that apparent, anyway

masterlist

navigation

You were drunk. Wasted, even. There were other students surrounding you, dancing and drinking, some you even knew from a random class or seeing them around campus. Well, right now? You weren't seeing anyone - at least not clearly. Your vision was fuzzy from the shots you'd drank pretty much the second you had gotten here with Tara and the rest of the group.

The party was fun and the music was good, the alcohol even better. So far you hadn't thought about your unfinished assignments and essays, you'd left all the stress in your dorm after pregaming with Quinn (and Ethan warily watching).

You were stumbling through the living room and kitchen, trying to decide whether to find another drink or just dance for now. However that decision was made for you when you arrived in the kitchen to see the few people there browse through bottles - all empty.

“Wait, they're out?” You drunkenly slur, glancing at the boy that was standing at the kitchen island next to you. You just barely hear his laugh, “Yeah.”

That's where the conversation had ended in your book, but he turns around and faces you, a grin on his face. “I haven't seen you around here?” You stop in your movements and look at him in your peripheral vision, hoping he'd take the hint and notice your definite disinterest.

He didn't.

“You don't wanna talk to me, princess?” He teases, though even in your drunken state you hear the slight aggravation in his voice. “No, sorry,” you dismiss and turn to leave the kitchen. He yells an insult after you and in turn you hold up your middle finger without looking back. Great, now your good mood is ruined.

Pursing your lips you look around the full hallway and living room, trying to spot at least one or your friends. How did they manage to turn invisible? You frown and stumble along a wall, your hand on it supporting you as you pass by a random couple making out (you don't know if the bile in your throat is from the copious amounts of alcohol you'd drank or these two but you're pretty sure it's the latter).

You don't know if you're imagining it or not but you can hear your name being called in a familiar fashion. You squint your eyes in suspicion and do a quick twirl, surveying the people. You regret that immediately, remembering why exactly you never moved that hastily while intoxicated. “Oh, God…” you lean over and heave, silently begging to whoever would hear you to let you get to a bathroom before vomiting on the floor of this frat house.

You feel a hand appear on your back, casually stroking along it in hopes to calm you down. Your brows crease and you're about to lash out at whoever thought they had the right to be touching you when you see the familiar pair of shoes and recognize the voice.

Ethan!

You look to the side and upwards, seeing the curly hair covered with the dorky cardboard knight helmet from his last minute costume (that you had helped him with!). He has a worried frown on his face and is talking but you don't hear him, focused on his unhappy expression. Who made him upset? Who did you have to have a word with?

You swallow and stabilize yourself on the wall again before straightening up, him copying your movement with his hand now on your shoulder.

With determination to make him happy again you reach out and press your thumb on the frown, trying to smooth it out. “Why is it not- Ethan. No frowning.” You warn when your thumb doesn't do the job.

There's a flicker of surprise on his face and then he laughs, “How much did you have to drink tonight?” It makes you giggle and you shake your head with a finger on your mouth, “It's a secret.”

He raises his eyebrows and then his hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright. I won't tell anyone. If I hadn't seen you dry heave I wouldn't have had a clue you had something to drink.”

You squint your eyes again but decide to believe him. Then the music you'd ignored faded back in and you groan, really not a fan of the way you could feel the vibration of the bass in your gut (you were a hair's width away from puking, this was not making it any better).

“Hey lovie, let's get you home?” Ethan suggests and puts an arm loosely around your waist. He never held you tightly, always loose enough that you could just slip out of his hold if you wanted to.

You see this as an offer and lean your full body weight against him, mumbling about going home and being happy to see him after wandering around this house, unable to find anyone.

He catches and holds you up with ease, gently guiding you to what you guessed was the front door (could've been a window and you wouldn't have batted an eye) before leading you outside.

Cold, crisp air surrounds you and suddenly you can breathe again, the music only in the background.

“Fresh air is great, isn't it?” He asks with amusement and you manage a glare that makes him grin.

“Alright, I'll help you walk home.”

-

Now, almost an hour later, you're back in your dorm. The small, dimmed lights around the room are turned on and Ethan is busying himself, cleaning (you guessed, he was mainly moving stuff around and then putting it back).

You simply sit on your bed, hands under your thighs and feet swinging as you watch him, only looking away when his quick movements overwhelm your drunk brain.

“Alright, come here. You can't sleep in that,” he finally says, holding a shirt (your favorite!) and sleep shorts in his hands. Instead of complying you cross your arms and eye him up and down, “and why can I not sleep in this?” Your party outfit is… well, a party outfit. Apart from the overall vibe and fit there was definitely some liquor that had burned its way into the fabric.

“Because it smells like tequila and you'll hate me tomorrow if I let you lay in bed with it,” he calmly explains and nonchalantly kneels in front of you to help you take off your shoes.

Your eyes are droopy and teary as well as a dull pulsing at the back of your head. You're almost asleep by now, having been convinced to change and get ready for bed (Ethan had gently but clumsily cleaned off your make up with some wipes and then you'd tiredly brushed your teeth and changed).

But, even now with you already in bed, he was still here, back against Quinn's bed and sitting on the floor.

Cuddled under your blanket you blink tiredly at him, “Eth?” He looks up from his phone and looks at you attentively. You just take him and his cute costume in for a second before a warm smile appears on your face. “Thanks. You don't have to do this but you do anyway…”

You seem to surprise him with that and he puts his phone down, “Nothing to thank me for.” You smile warmly, no strength to phrase how thankful you actually felt.

“I'm glad it's you. Taking care of me.” You admit, the haze of drunkenness fading with the time and water you've chugged. “I'm glad too.”

You're staring into his brown eyes, the light of your desk lamp illuminating them beautifully as he smiles at you, this time a bit more shy.

“Eth?” You mumble and you two just look at each other before he gets up and you lift the blanket. He lays down with his back facing the door and yours facing the wall, a palm coming to rest on your cheek.

“I'm happy you're my best friend.” He says, but there's a slight hesitancy as he says the last thing.

Maybe it was the buzz from the drinks or just the vibe of right now but you lean in and press your mouth to his. You're both too out of it and tired to do more than this, smiles in between short pecks.

It was sweet, no words needed to be exchanged between you to know what this meant.

You would talk about it in the morning with both your heads clear, but for now all you needed was to be cuddled against his chest, his hand lazily stroking along your back.

[moss-and-marimos]

oh? (<- curious abt your pathfinder character)

[heavy breathing] oh my god you dont even know the brain worms I have for this character. they dont have a name (they have a name ive been calling them for simplicity but its not like their actual canon name, I just needed something quick for the oneshot I played them in to try pathfinder) but theyre like one of my favorite ocs I have. oh my god. so theyre a catfolk, theyre a tuxedo cat, and this didnt get explored at all in the oneshot I played but their backstory is 'reflection.' meaning that they literally got magically pulled out of a mirror. like oh my god. their background is acrobat, technically. their class eventually becomes swashbuckler. The 'original', the person theyre a replica of, worked in a circus as an acrobat and tightrope walker and such. My pathfinder character got pulled out of a mirror in the hall of mirrors. can you imagine. you are just quite literally pulled into existence, you dont know by what, you dont know where you are, you've never been alive before, you've never thought before, you look like an adult bc youre an imperfect replica of someone who was, but you've never existed until now, and you just have to fucking deal with that??? so for like 3 months they stay living and working at the circus, because where else are they supposed to go?? they dont know anything else!! im not entirely sure what happens with this part of the lore yet, but they either get framed for killing their original, or the original goes missing or something, something happens and it makes replica look really suspicious, and so its kind of the last straw, and they decide to leave and become their own person and explore the world. this is where the swashbuckler class becomes a thing. At some point along the way, theyre given or steal or something a sword called a 'bastard sword', and bastard swords are called that because they have no 'family' as far as swords go. well guess what, my character doesnt either. They have a really hard time for a while, obviously they havent been around for a long time to learn social cues or anything, and theyre forced to learn rather quickly that people dont take kindly to reflections. ive been trying to decide whether or not they themself have a reflection, because on one hand I like the idea of it being a detail for other people to notice that something is up, and like it makes sense, they were the reflection of course they dont have one of their own, but also like it would be equally as angsty and cool for them to have a reflection and to constantly be having the existential crisis about 'thats a person in there. I was in there.' and people would probably make fun of them for being 'confused' about mirrors but no, there is so much to unpack there the art potential this character has is so so so much to me, either waking up your first moment of sentience either being surrounded by empty mirrors, not knowing what a mirror is anyway to know you even should have a reflection, or your first moments of sentience being surrounded by copies yourself, in a room where you are aware that they are people just as much as you are, that they are you but simultaneously a replica of you and the existential issues of that oh my god I need to draw them in a jesters costume or something and just make angst about them being 'the fool' or other assorted circus themed angst because my god I have brainwork's about this character you dont even know Fun fact about them: one of the errors in their being a replica is that they dont have claws, they were copied without them, and so just imagine you are brought into a world entirely unfamiliar to you, you dont know who or what or where you are, and you dont even have a way to defend yourself. everyone in the world who is like you naturally has a way to defend themself, except you, who arguably needs it the most. just another way that you were a mistake. (part 1 this got too long and it wont let me post, part 2 in reblogs)

[lililvsslashers]

What would Billy Loomis's reaction be if after a while, you finally find out he's the killer? (English version)

Remember that this is translated in "Google translate" so there are probably several errors, I apologize for this

Warnings: none, nothing strong

You were at school quickly gathering your things to put them back in your backpack. A few seconds ago someone's voice was heard through the speakers around the place, warning that something had happened in the facilities. Apparently, one of the students had been attacked, so they chose to end the school day for that day thanks to that tragic event.

The nerves of the moment play a trick on you causing one of your notebooks to fall to the ground, being quickly picked up by Stu.

"Have you seen Billy?"

You shook your head and then left the room being accompanied by that boy. On the way out they met the rest of their group of friends, however, Bill was still missing. Your imagination began to fly landing in tragic scenarios, while the rest chattered among themselves.

"Were you looking for me?" You breathed a sigh of relief as soon as your eyes met Billy's, who was smiling at your reaction.

"Are you okay?" he answered with a sure yes to your question, even so, his answer did not completely convince you, since his hands were slightly injured.

"Oh, you mean by my hands?" you nod "well, you have nothing to worry about, it was a small accident"

You decided to ignore that and ended up together at his house while watching some movies, although instead of watching them, they spent the whole time talking about what happened at their school. They ate some popcorn and drank a few cans of soda, until they began to hear their phone ringing from the kitchen.

“I must have forgotten it there when I went for the popcorn. I'll be back in a moment"

You nodded and took advantage of the moment to go to the bathroom, but not before pausing the movie. You quietly went in to relieve yourself, but you stopped as soon as you saw Billy's backpack lying on the floor, would it be wrong to snoop through his stuff a bit? Maybe yes, but your curiosity to know what was inside that thing, increased when you remembered the fact that Bill had been preventing you from opening his bag at all costs or simply wouldn't let you even grab it. You opened the backpack and quickly began to take out all its contents.

The first thing you saw there were normal things or so you thought, because when you took in your hands what at first glance seemed to be a black coat, you could realize that it was a kind of long costume that in addition to having a mask wrapped in him, his cloth lay stained with what appeared to be blood.

Even after seeing that and staining your hands a little, you decided to continue rummaging through those objects, but you stopped immediately as soon as you saw the shine of a knife inside the backpack. You took it in your hands realizing that said artifact was also covered in blood, which made you get up immediately while you dropped that sharp knife to the ground causing a relatively loud sound.

"Huh, everything okay in there?" His voice scared you even more, causing you to be unable to respond and start to put things away desperately.

"I asked you a question. If you don't answer, I'll have to open the door myself."

You kept silent again and with the little courage you had left, you managed to see the small window that was in the place. You didn't know if it was going to be possible to get out there, but you better try.

"Shit, open the damn door!"

His reaction was to start banging on the door again and again, causing loud crashes that only scared you even more. Your face was now covered in tears, but regardless, you kept trying to open the window.

"You asked for it"

His words came out at the same time you managed to open the window. Then you started trying to get through there, but the whole bathroom was pierced by a rumble a thousand times louder than the banging. Billy had managed to open the door.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Your body was pulled by his arms causing you to immediately start kicking and screaming for help.

“Shh, honey, I'm going to be really mad if anyone manages to hear you. You better calm down"

"You and I have many things to talk about, but for now, get used to the idea that you will not be able to escape from me no matter how hard you try"

[welcometogrouchland]

The tma TV adaptation essay(?) I promised:

GOD Trying to organize my thoughts on a tma adaptation has been crazy because like.

It could genuinely be so good to look at!!! You could do so much with the costuming of characters, the SFX (sit here with me and imagine practical effects Jarod hopworth and Jane Prentiss. Doesn't that make you go crazy insane??? Doesn't it???), the idea of using pixilation or stop motion and compositing to make Nikola, putting intentional continuity errors in scenes with the distortion, never using closeups in scenes about the lonely so you feel distant, never getting wider than a midshot in scenes about the buried so you feel claustrophobic, using rotoscoping and weird filming techniques and on and on- this is stuff that could not only look cool but could actively elevate the written text through visuals... y'know. LIKE A GOOD VISUAL ADAPTATION IS MEANT TO DO!!!

But as good as it could look, like with a lot of people, it begins to all fall apart at story and structure for me. Because how would they deal with the shows nature as an anthology?? Would it lean into it, or remove it?

Give it hour long episodes (as opposed to 20 ish minutes) that can fit multiple, more plot relevant statements in, with scenes of the characters interacting used to break up the statements and weave the meta narrative in more from the start? Well that's certainly an option and the main one I've been pondering. Giving two statements per episode cuts the 20 episode runtime down almost by half which would fit neater into an average series of television these days. (you could probably finagle the multipart finales into single episodes but idk if that'd be the wisest idea structure and pacing wise) but that format could still be A) unfamiliar to long time podcast listeners who want the show to be formatted like the podcast and B) hard to market to casual audiences?? it takes the podcasts method of gradually blurring the lines between statement and meta plot over the course of the show and instead starts off with them already muddy. That doesn't even solve the problem of how you'd go about filming statements, let alone what the hell you'd do when it came time for season 5.

But you can't remove the statements, they're important to the plot. If you do, you change the show so drastically that you're going to chase away original fans of the podcast, who'd likely male up the first core wave of fans who support your show before it takes off (at least. That's what I'm guessing???) So, back to square one, re: tma is formatted in a way that is built around it's own strengths and limitations as an independent podcast, which would clash badly with current models of TV production.

And in all honesty? TV doesn't usually get the luxury (or budget) for experimentation to the same capacity film (or hell, an independently produced passion project audio drama) does. Any of the more experimental ideas I mentioned would probably be left on the cutting room. It sucks but it's my best guess as to what'd happen (grain of salt: I don't work in film and TV and my knowledge is second hand! All I know is that coming to studios with an idea that's a) hard to film and b) doesn't have big names that guarantee a return on the money put into the series is. Generally considered unwise)

Sigh. It's like. I've tried to make this post at least 3 times now, and every time I struggle to accurately convey how much I think tma could flourish in a visual adaptation!!! and so how much I think the best things about it would hinder it in a TV setting. I get why people want it! tma is (as admitted by Jonny), a first draft, and a really good first draft afterwards. We want to bring our favourite podcast to it's full potential, and I think it has so much potential visually...but I've already made all my points for why I'm not sure I'd want it to be adapted to a visual medium, on a purely technical level. It sucks to be pessimistic about it, because I do love TV as a medium, but fundamentally I think they'd have a very hard time pleasing both new and old fans trying to tell the same story as what we got in the podcast.

So what should they do instead?? I'm not sure, but if you told me to make a tma TV adaptation, gun to my head, this is what I'd do:

Have the show take place Somewhere Else

Not as in, have the show be about Jon and Martin post series. I mean, "somewhere else is an alternate universe where things are Slightly Different, as a meta explanation for the changes made to the story to suit TV". and at the end of the series have the big twist be that not only are they passing the fears on, this isn't even the first time they've done it (BIG cosmic horror potential here). Maybe have Annabelle explain this in universe, have Jon find this out, have Jonny Sims appear at the end like fucking rod sterling, whatever!! Just pay tribute to the original podcast by directing people to the first iteration of this story, to compare and contrast and revel in the tragedy that across universes, our heroes were always doomed, if in slightly different ways.

"We're just going to pass it on" takes on a whole new meaning now, doesn't it?

[everythingblreview]

As a big fan of BL games, I always been very supportive of companies who license and release them in English. I will wait and buy a game, I didn’t play in Japanese yet if it is announced in English and will buy the English version of a bl game I already played in Japanese.

Consider all this I will not support and encourage anyone to support Jast blue anymore and the shit they are doing.

Let’s break this done.

Jast is licensing nitro+chiral game, especially popular in the west and known for their darker content, (which is good even though most of them already had a fan patch) but honestly they are doing a horrible job with it.

Even ignoring that their game often tend to have errors and bugs, but them cutting up and trying to sell their games to minors is a big no no.

I’ve been in their server and they seem completely fine with having 14 years old children on a server for 18+ bl games (and yes I’m sure some played dmmd when they were 14) but were are talking about adults here trying to sell their games to children and not even caring. Also cutting bl games that are not mean to been cut in the first place, is dumb. They removed so much stuff from sweet pool the game didn’t even make sense to people who played it cut. Sure maybe dmmd works a little better but you won’t go far with their other games. Slow damage will be even worse because it’s so much darker and if you cut it you will just remove the whole plot, and all the poor people who will play it cut without even knowing, ruining the game for themselves. Do you need money that badly jast?

Secondly, I would like to talk about a big problem I have with their games: the translation. It’s bad.

They add unnecessary swearing, things like “bro” “dude” making them sounds like so edgy American teenager, I don’t know who is translating this but don’t add stuff that is not there in the first place, don’t try to make everything more “edgy” and don’t try to make Japanese people talk like some Americans, yes this is translated by americans with amrican audience in mind probably but please be more respectful toward the original. Sweet pool already made Makoto sounds stupid but dmmd was just a joke. the game is already seen as a meme but jast made it only worse, to a point you could not read it anymore.

And the last thing that made me especially mad the last few days: How Jast is handling slow damage. One pic of the game showed ones again unnecessary swearing and it was not even translated correctly (sure it can only be this one time but consider they disappointed me enough already, I doubt that)

What makes me really made is how they present the game: as some edgy game meme, what are you doing Jast trying to make a dmmd out of this, or what? Sure, people who didn’t play don’t know it but this game is so far away from being in any way funny or “edgy”. I really want to know if the person who tweets this shit even played the game. Giving the most stupid answers to question people ask. They are not your characters jast answer with that what n+c wrote in the game. Them making a joke character out of Towa, makes so MAD saying stuff like “he would read killing stalking” or “make you worse” WTF jast. Are you fucking stupid to portray a fucking mentally ill character with heavy trauma who is one step away from committing suicide as some fucking joke?? this is not dmmd, THE GAME IS NOT FUNNY, TAKE THIS FUCKING SERIOUS JAST.

Are they so desperate to sell this game that you need edgy 14 year old kids for your costumers? How about selling them for a higher price and taking things serious for ones jast?

I can only imagine a lot of people going into the game expecting some Aoba kind of joke character only to be hit with one of the most traumatic and darkest themes in a game I ever played.

Consider this I won’t ever judge people who still buy their games because some people only have this option.

But this makes me really said, fans deserve a good translation and a game that is treated seriously but all we get is...jast and their cringy joke.

No wonder n+c doesn’t want to work with them if their sell their games for such a low price, and I hope they never can translate lamento because they don’t deserve the game (go play the fanpatch version it’s great) if you want to support n+c directly go buy their games in Japanese, use the fan-translation or machine translation to play it if you can. At this point I don’t think Jast will ever change, and I will not support them in any way.

On a better note, Tokyo Onmyouji will be finally released on the 25th February. Please support the game it looks great and Moonchime Localization did work really hard on it to release it on time unlike some others who make empty promises, took the game and the character seriously and didn’t try to make a joke out of it.

[mandoalorian]

Rach could you please do something soft like it’s maxwells birthday and you and alastair plan a small birthday party ( just the three of you) and he is so overwhelmed with love he can’t believe he got so lucky after everything ❤️ then you tell him you’re pregnant.

Also no pressure to write you can totally ignore this 😊

Birthday Surprise [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader]

Warnings: pregnancy, allusions to sex, food mention, mention of infidelity/cheating, mention of poverty

Word Count: 3200>

A/N: It’s April 1st which means it’s officially Max Lord’s birthday! <33 Thank you for all the Max requests people have sent in over the past week. They’ve truly been a joy to write. & Thank you @supernaturalgirl for this lovely request. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Once upon a time, Maxwell Lord had these big, extravagant parties to celebrate his birthday. He’d host at fancy venues and it would be formal, strictly black-tie, and only the elite were invited. But the truth was, he was incredibly lonely. He had no friends, only colleagues and business associates. His wife would hang on his arm, wearing real fur, and Chanel couture earrings, parading around the room, flirting with other businessmen who might’ve been more successful than Max.

He didn’t like his birthday. Growing up, he didn’t celebrate much either. The Lorenzano family could barely afford to buy Maxwell new shoes or clothes that fit, so expecting gifts and parties was the last thing on his mind. Every year though, without fail, his mother would cook him a small cake and light a candle. “Make a wish, Maxwell.” she’d whisper. It was funny how things turned out.

And when he married for the first time, it was his wife who insisted on these big, luxurious celebrations with balloons and music. The attention was nice, sure, but it always felt like it was more for her than it was for him. He’d never say anything though. Just smile and nod. As long as she was happy. She sure seemed happy when Maxwell caught his wife with her tongue down another man’s throat at his 32nd birthday party. Thankfully, that marriage soon ended, and whilst Maxwell swelled with heartache for a good few months, better things were soon to come.

Like meeting you.

About a week before Maxwell’s birthday, Alistair was... hyper, to say the least. It was way past his bedtime, and yet he was bouncing up and down on yours and Max’s bed, clearly trying to get his father to leave the room.

“Daddy, could you go make me some french fries?”

Maxwell peeked up from his newspaper and furrowed his eyebrows together. His son’s question even ruffled you slightly, as you looked up from painting your nails and tilted your head slightly.

“Alistair, it’s eleven at night. No french fries.” Maxwell sighed before looking back down at his newspaper.

Alistair hummed, looking around the bedroom.

“Daddy, did you remember to feed Lady her evening biscuits?”

Maxwell looked up from his paper again, and stared at his son.

“I fed her this evening,” You said, trying to work out what kind of mischief Alistair was getting up to now. “Ali, is everything okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” The six year old replied, and well, it was a fair response. You and Maxwell exchanged a glance before getting back to your business. About ten seconds passed.

“Daddy, can you make me some warm milk?”

Maxwell sighed, this time dropping his newspaper completely and rubbing his tired eyes. “You don’t need warm milk Alistair.”

“But I’ll struggle to sleep without it.”

“I’ll go get you some,” you told the child, but Alistair quickly extended his arm, stopping you before you could get out of bed. 

“No mommy, you’re sick. Besides, I asked daddy.”

You blinked, taken slightly aback. Alistair was a sweet child with wonderful manners, that  much you knew, but even his decorum right now took you by surprise. He was speaking like a fully grown gentleman. Processing his words, you simply shrugged your shoulders before shuffling back into bed and getting comfortable.

Yeah, you’d been throwing up the past few days, in the mornings mostly, but you’d drawn it down to food poisoning. It was sweet how Alistair was seemingly looking out for your health. Maxwell’s gaze flicked between you both but, in defeat, he got out of bed and padded downstairs, into the kitchen to prepare his son’s bedtime beverage. Once he was gone, and you could hear him begin to steam the milk, you snapped your fingers to get Alistiar’s attention.

“Alright Ali,” you sighed, folding your arms across your chest. “What’s going on? Why have you been trying to get your dad to leave the room for the past...” you checked the time on the alarm clock which was positioned on Max’s nightstand. “Half an hour.” Gods he was persistent. Just like his father.

“We need to do something special for daddy’s birthday.” Alistair announced, and as he uttered the words, you already knew that there was no room for questioning him. He and his father were similar in that sense too.

“What do you have in mind?” you wondered out loud. You knew Maxwell’s birthday was approaching, despite your husband never talking about it. You hadn’t even thought of what to get him yet, which was a problem. 

“A party. But not like the ones daddy has for work,” Alistair explained, referring to the many galas Maxwell had hosted in attempt to gain sponsorship and investments for his company. “Like, a small tea party. Just us. All his favourite snacks and the birthday cake granny used to make him when he was a kid. I know it’s his favourite. And balloons and banners and streamers. I can draw a picture. And music. And—“

“Okay okay baby slow down, I see where you’re coming from,” you smiled, pulling Alistair into your lap. “And I like the idea. Do you know if your dad has ever had a small party like this before?”

“I don’t think so.” Alistair replied softly and you nodded in understanding.

“Well, we’ll have to make sure it’s perfect. We can start planning tomorrow morning when he goes to work, okay? But keep your mouth zipped tight Ali, it has to be a surprise.”

———

The day of Maxwell’s birthday started like any other. He left for work at 7:30, his driver waiting for him outside. He graced you with a quick peck on the cheek and told you he couldn’t wait to see you tonight. Now, Maxwell hadn’t uttered one word about his birthday in the past week, but even today, he hadn’t mentioned it. You’d planned on giving him his present this morning when he woke up, but your nerves got the better of you. 

You’d waited to give him this gift for a week already, you could at least wait a few more hours until he got home from work. 

At 9am, your best friend arrived with an abundance of helium balloons, birthday banners and streamers. At 9:30am, you tried to help Alistair pick out a smart outfit, although he was begging to wear one of his new Star Wars Ewok costumes. 

“How can you eat all the cake if you’re dressed as a massive teddy bear?” you asked the boy. He sighed, knowing that you had a point. 

Alistair looked adorable in his button down shirt and pants. You even fished in Maxwell’s closet to find a bow tie, hoping it would complete the look.

“I look like dad.” Alistair mumbled, fiddling with the wonky tie that you’d haphazardly wrapped around his neck.

“Exactly. You look wonderful.” you grinned, enveloping him into a massive hug. 

At 12, you figured it was the best time to begin baking the cake. But to do that, you needed the recipe. When you called Ms Lorenzano, your heart blossomed upon hearing the excitement in her voice.

“Oh darling! Hello! It’s so lovely to hear from you.” she spoke into the phone, and you could just imagine her smile on the other end of the line. It was identical to Maxwell’s. 

“Hello Ms Lorenzano,” you greeted, nervously curling the telephone wire around your finger. “How’ve you been?”

“I was just packing away my groceries. I got the bouquet of flowers you and Maxwell sent me yesterday. They look beautiful on my dining room table. Thank you, darling. They really lighten up the room. How is my son? Is he there?” Ms Lorenzano quizzed.

“Max is great, actually. He’s working at the moment but we were thinking about flying out to see you this weekend. If you weren’t busy? Alistair misses you very much.”

“Oh that would be wonderful! I’ve missed my little cherub so much. Let me guess, a big party planned tonight for my Maxwell’s birthday?” She beamed.

“Not quite. It was Ali’s idea to plan something small - a tea party of sorts. He was telling me about this vanilla frosting birthday cake you used to bake when Max was younger? And I was hoping you’d share the recipe with me. I’d love to try and recreate it… although my baking skills are nowhere near as good as yours.” you giggled. 

“That recipe has been passed down our family for generations,” Ms Lorenzano explained and you felt your heart sink into your chest. By neither law nor blood, you weren’t family. Would she really not give you the recipe? You’d been dating Maxwell for years now. And Ms Lorenzano did always say you were like a daughter to her… “Of course you can have it.” she smiled and you felt  a wave of relief wash over you as she began to list the ingredients.

“Thank you Ms Lorenzano, it was so lovely to speak to you. Max is gonna give you a call tonight. Take care, okay?”

“Okay darling. I send my love. Give Alistair a kiss from his ol’ granny. I will see you Saturday.” 

Now, the smart thing would’ve been to call over the house chef and have her prepare the birthday cake. At least then, it would be void of any errors. But this was strictly a Lorenzano family recipe and the last thing you wanted to do was to disrespect Ms Lorenzano and immediately give it to the house chef. So, you figured you’d give it your best go. At least then it would be sentimental. 

Maxwell was a fussy eater, only eating the most delicious and well presented foods. You weren’t sure if he’d even step a foot near this cake. As you stirred together the ingredients, something wasn’t right. It was lumpy and bubbling and -- no matter what, you just couldn’t seem to fix it. You called Alistair in, who had been colouring in a family portrait he’d drawn, to take a look, but of course, he didn’t know any better.

When the cake came out the oven, it was lop-sided and slightly burned. You figured it would be okay if you just covered it in the vanilla frosting and placed the sliced strawberries intricately on the top. But no. Luck wasn’t on your side today. The strawberries slipped off and the icing was uneven. At least you managed to put the cake on one of the fancy ‘special occasion’ plates. You could just tell Maxwell that it was made with love.

Ali helped you decorate downstairs, which proved to be a challenge. The rooms in Lord manor were extensively sized and tall, but you did your best. 

“Ali, I’m going to quickly get changed okay? Would you do me a favour and bring down your dad’s presents from upstairs? You could place them on the dining room table.”

Alistair nodded obediently and did as he was told. You went up to yours and Maxwell’s shared closet and looked around, trying to decide on what exactly you should wear. You opted on a beautiful, fitted champagne coloured dress that glittered in the artificial lighting. It was one of your favourite gowns and you had worn it last summer at one of Black Gold Cooperative’s charity fundraising events. You knew how much Maxwell loved it too. If Alistair was dressed in his father’s bow-tie, and Maxwell always looked presentable, there was no reason you couldn’t make an effort to look good too. Besides, you didn’t know how long you’d have left before you wouldn’t be able to fit into these dresses anymore.

You didn’t have long before Maxwell was due to finish work. You quickly style your hair and adjust your makeup, before padding downstairs and into the dining room. Just like you had requested, all of Maxwell’s presents were neatly piled on top of the table, courtesy of Alistair.

“He’ll be home any second Ali,” you said, handing Alistair a party popper and adjusting the cone shaped party hat on his head. Alistair was absolutely beaming, his big brown eyes twinkling like starlight as he anticipated his father coming home from work. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Alistair grinned.

“Okay. Good. Let’s go find a place to hide.”

Ducking down behind the stack of gifts, you waited for about five minutes in silence, until you heard the front door unlock. Alistair squeaked excitedly, hearing his dad come home and you bit your lip, quietly shushing him but unable to contain your own smile.

Maxwell was surprised when he came home. He wasn’t greeted like he expected to be. Normally, every evening after his shift, you and Ali would run into his arms and envelope him into a hug. The lack of running and hugs concerned Maxwell. The house was dead quiet, and he even found himself wondering if either of you were home. 

When he padded into the dining room and switched on the light, you and Ali jumped out and screamed in unison; “Happy birthday!”

Maxwell froze, his jaw dropping open and his eyes going comically wide. He was presented with an abundance of gifts, a decorated dining room, his son and girlfriend all dressed up, and a questionable looking cake with a wax candle stuck in the top. You and Alistair ran into Maxwell’s arms and hugged him tight.

“Daddy! Daddy! It’s your birthday! Look! We planned a surprise tea party all by ourselves!” Alistar squealed, tugging on his father’s arm.

“I- I- wow!” Maxwell gasped, genuinely speechless. You bit your lip and swayed your hips as you lovingly gazed into his brown eyes. You didn’t know what it was, maybe the fact the whole day was leading up to this moment, or perhaps just an imbalance with your hormones, but you had missed him so much. Just seeing him again made you want to weep in his strong arms. You loved him so much.

“Happy birthday.” you whispered, raising your hand to cup his face. He nudged his nose against yours and you kissed him sweetly. 

“You did all of this for me?” He asked after reluctantly pulling away, still in genuine shock.

“It was Ali’s idea.” you replied, letting your body lean against his. You rest your head into his chest so much so that you could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You look… breathtaking, darling.” Maxwell hummed, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“Come sit down,” you said, taking his hand and guiding him over to the dining room table. “You have all these presents, and we have cake and music…” 

“The cake…” Maxwell pointed and quirking an eyebrow. “Is that… it can’t be…”

“It is, I called your mom for the recipe.” You confirmed with a nervous smile. 

“I-- don’t believe it. I haven’t had this cake since--”

“I know. Again it was Ali’s idea,” you informed him. Alistair looked bashfully proud as he anticipated the cake cutting. “I know it doesn’t look the best…”

“Are you kidding?” Maxwell asked, cutting you off. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Would you like to try some?”

“Would I like to try some?” Maxwell repeated incredulously. “Of course!”

You lit the candle and held hands with Alistair and Max as the two of you sang happy birthday. As Maxwell blew out the candle, you told him to make a wish.

“I don’t need to wish for anything. I already have everything I could ever want. Right here.”

Maxwell got a variety of miscellaneous gifts for his birthday. A porcelain statue of a dog, a small desk flag with his company logo on it, a basket filled with biotin supplements, and of course the artwork that Alistair had created earlier in the day. It was a beautiful crayon illustration of you, Max, Ali, and of course your cat, Lady Lord. Maxwell promised to frame it and put it on his desk at work. Little did he realise though, the best gift was yet to come.

Once Alistair was tucked into bed, you and Maxwell decided to settle down and have an early night. All the eating and dancing had exhausted you both. 

“Thank you for today,” Maxwell mumbled, pulling the zipper down your dress. His warm breath fanned over the shell of your ear and you immediately felt butterflies in your stomach. “Why don’t we go to bed, hm?” he asked, peppering kisses down your neck and along your shoulders. 

You knew what he was hinting at, and you wanted it too. Of course you wanted it too. But there was something you had to deal with first. You were so nervous but you knew it was now or never.

“I didn’t give you your birthday present.” you announced, turning around to look your boyfriend in the eye.

“Wh-- what do you mean? You didn’t need to get me anything. This was enough. You-- you, my love, are enough.”

You smiled, rubbing his bicep and finding yourself once again getting lost in his eyes. You took a deep breath and pulled him into the en-suite bathroom. Although confused, Max didn’t say a word, and instead, he watched you in silence as you unlocked the drawer under the sink. It was where you usually kept your cosmetics, but Max’s gift had been waiting in there for the past week, wrapped up in tissue. You took it out and handed him it.

You anxiously watched as he unravelled the tissue, only to be presented with a positive pregnancy test. Your positive pregnancy test. His eyebrows knotted together and you watched his Adam's apple bop in his throat as he swallowed. But then, only seconds later, his face softened and his eyes became glazed with unshed tears. “You’re… we’re…”

“We’re pregnant, Max.” you confessed, confirming his thoughts.

Maxwell choked up and wrapped his strong arms tight around you, squeezing you hard. “Oh my God, we’re really pregnant?”

“Mhm.” you giggled, as Maxwell pulled away and cupped your cheeks with his hand. He kissed you passionately and when he pulled away, his grin was ecstatic.  

“How long have you known?” He quizzed.

“A week.” you admitted.

“A week?!”

You swatted his arm playfully and shushed him. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise. We have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, to confirm it and everything. But with the sickness and… I can feel it, you know?” You took his hand and placed it against your stomach. “I can really feel it.”

“I love you so much,” Maxwell smiled. “I love you so, so much.”

“Happy birthday my dear.” you replied, guiding him back over to the bed. “I love you too.”

--------x---------

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[sloaners]

Itachi/Freddy from Scooby Doo 👀

okay, listen, I’m serious in how good this ship is if people open their minds to it

hear me out: 

So let’s put it in a crossover where Itachi and Kisame get nearly run over by the gang, who are on their way to a creepy mansion or something on Halloween. Fred, of course, was stubborn about asking for directions at the last gas station, and turned the wrong way into the Elemental Nations like the goofus that he is.

So the van comes to a screeching halt, and before Kisame can kill all of them as a startle reflex, Fred jumps out of the car, apologizing profusely to the two. He compliments their outfits in turn, and sheepishly asks if they’ve seen any mansions around here, preferably on the spooky side?

(Velma isn’t so sure about the Costume thing, but real shinobi don’t exist and she supposes they’re cosplayers really dedicated to their craft and excited to show off on Halloween. Daphne just wants to know where they get their excellent make-up.)

Kisame, ever the honest guy, comments on a mansion they passed by a few miles back, medium-level on the spookiness. Fred thanks them, and before anyone can stop him, invites them to come solve the mystery with them! And, well, maybe if they could lead the way to the mansion they saw? 

Itachi has a weird look on his face. Kisame knows that look; he sees it whenever Deidara is around. So before Kisame can say anything, Itachi immediately agrees to help. He scoots in up front with Fred, and they’re practically sharing a seat. Kisame sighs, and climbs into the back of the van where Shaggy and Scooby are sitting. They notice his sword thing is, like, moving, man, but the rest of the gang wave the two off as paranoid. Kisame goads them to pet Samehada if they dare, but Shaggy and Scooby emphatically decline.

Fred natters away as they drive off, asking Itachi questions like if he likes The Ascot Five and his thoughts about the warm weather lately. Itachi listens with a quiet and intense focus that would make anyone else blush. Velma and Daphne give each other a Look, but don’t say anything else. 

There’s otherwise overall little comment on respective appearances as they continue on; the gang aren’t too freaked out by Kisame yet, since they mistake him dressing up as some kind of ninja Jabberjaw, and Itachi just assumes Scooby-Doo is a particularly bizarre and ineffectual summons. It’s just another day in the Elemental Nations, really. 

The van, though. The van remains a vexing enigma to Itachi.

---

They arrive at the sprawling mansion grounds of a nobleman that Itachi and Kisame passed by before. Hilariously, it turns out there is a problem: the nobleman’s employees claim the mansion is being menaced by the spirits of a bandit gang that terrorized these lands in the past. In a comedy of errors, and assuming they’re all the shinobi who accepted his mission request, the nobleman welcomes them all inside.

Figuring it always worked before in these cases, Fred decides the gang should split up: Itachi going with Fred, Velma and Daphne, and Kisame going with Shaggy and Scooby. Fred tries to sweeten the deal that gosh, Itachi seems really smart, and it would be great if he could come with them.

This entire time, many things have been happening in Itachi’s brain at once:

-Itachi likes a person who can take the lead and tells him what to do, even dorky ascot-wearers -Itachi hasn’t received a sincere compliment in 745 days, and it was getting to him, honestly -Itachi admires how much Freddy commits to completing a mission mystery -Itachi finds Fred’s fashion and looks... Good, Actually -Itachi has a very quiet and horrifying fondness for bossy blonds 

Meanwhile, for Fred, terrifying things are also happening in his brain:

-Fred is into people who can physically and mentally intimidate him -Fred is also stupid enough to believe Itachi’s not capable of murder -Fred is prone to conspiracy theories, and finds Itachi’s general weirdness and his Mysterious Past™️ Energy very thought provoking -Fred totally saw Itachi eying his ascot appreciatively, and wowzers that cloud cloak is a Good Look on him -Bossy blonds tend to have an unfortunate attraction to Itachi (see: Deidara) and Fred is no exception

Daphne just rolls her eyes knowingly, seeing the squeaky hamster wheel of infatuation spinning in Freddy’s head. Velma, meanwhile, now believes jackshit of what Itachi’s presenting himself as, but unfortunately is also intrigued in a Narratively Compelling way, and wants to see what happens between the two.

Daphne sighs. They’re all hopeless. But it’s fine. The guy’s probably harmless enough for Fred to have a crush on, anyway. 

Meanwhile, Shaggy and Scooby just appreciate having someone very scary on their side FOR ONCE. But Kisame is like, HYPER SCARY, MAN. Hopefully the mystery is wrapped up in a couple hours and they can get the heck outta here. 

----

The mystery takes 10 minutes.

“Are you two done cowering?” Kisame asks as he pulls the locked door to the ornate bathroom off of his hinges, and looks inside at the terrified occupants. 

“Kisame! Wh-wh-what happened to the g-ghosts?” Shaggy asks, peeking between his fingers covering his face from where he’s hiding in the linen closet. 

“Reah! The rhosts!” Scooby echos, poking his nose up out of the full bubble bath.   

“Oh. I killed them,” is all Kisame says to that, sliding Samehada onto his back. “Let’s go.” 

Shaggy... chooses to take it as a metaphor. 

Meanwhile, the other roving miasma of ghost bandits descend on the rest of the gang, boxing in Fred, Daphne, and Velma at the edge of a cliffside ravine that is inexplicably right outside the back of the mansion.

Itachi goes to pull a kunai out of his sleeve, but Fred’s yell stops him. 

“Itachi! You can’t take all of them at once!” Fred cries. He rifles through his pockets, grabs what he’s looking for, and throws it to Itachi. “Here!” 

Itachi catches the keys, and nods solemnly. He knows exactly what to do.

3 seconds later:

IMAGINE ITACHI DRIVING THE MYSTERY MACHINE, FULL THROTTLE, CRASHING INTO THE CROWD OF ‘GHOSTS,’ AND SAVING THE DAY. 

The gang gets away from the ravine edge, safe and sound. Fred wipes away the paint on one of the more conscious ones, and it turns out the “ghost bandits” are just a group of regular bandits, taking advantage of the nobleman’s very public fear of spirits to harass and rob him. 

“I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling shinobi!” the leader coughs out, a bit of blood trickling down his mouth as he groans from internal van injury. 

Fred... chooses to interpret the blood as a theatrical effect. He also hugs Itachi, congratulating him on such a great job on his very first mystery! 

“We’ll make an amatuer sleuth out of you yet!” Fred crows, pleased. 

“Hn,” says Itachi. 

In the meantime, Itachi gets them all to turn around and ushers them back into the slightly dented van, so they don’t see Kisame murdering all the bandits behind them.

The nobleman thanks them, and they drive off, on their way to a new mystery.

[abusylittlezebra]

Dissecting the murder of Annie May Lawson

(tw: discussion of assault and murder below, including images of stabbed, bloodied women- not real, of course, but if that kind of thing bothers you, scroll on by)

I've often wondered how Dale pulled off his first murder, and finally I have a working theory to serve as canon on this blog. Let me break it down for you.

Dale followed Munch and Fin from the courthouse at a distance and diverged from them after they lost track of Harrison. From there, I imagine he:

A. went back to the lab to get the items he would need to stage a crime-scene (I don't know how one goes about planting fingerprints and I'm not trying to know, Mr. NSA), as well as the murder weapon (possibly stolen from the evidence room) and gloves.

OR

B. went directly to the boardwalk and committed the murder using a knife he happened to already have on his person (possibly a pocket knife, which is somehow way scarier to me), and planted the evidence when he returned to the scene with CSU later on.

At the boardwalk, he located Annie May Lawson and subdued her from behind with his left hand over her mouth to silence her. I think the first stab was to her right breast (1), where most of the blood on her clothing is located. When he pulled back to stab her in the chest again, she deflected the strikes with her right arm, resulting in defensive wounds (2).

When she struggled, he stabbed lower, into her upper abdomen, severing her aorta and causing her to bleed out (3). Then, as she was incapacitated and dying, but before she was dead, he opened her shirt and made the slashes on her chest to replicate what Harrison had done to Rachel Nauss (4).

From there, I imagine he staged the scene, writing "GUILTY" on her forehead (one of the reasons I believe he was wearing gloves, which he could have disposed of in any number of ways) and then cleaned up and got out of there.

As for how he managed to do this all without getting blood on his clothing: some people just live a charmed life, I guess. He's wearing the same clothes when the crime scene is processed that he was wearing when he left the courthouse, so I don't imagine he changed.

I think he just rolled his sleeves up like he did when he stabbed O'Halloran and tortured Stabler. It's also possible that he knows how to position himself so he won't get blood on his clothes. It's also possible that he took his shirt off, but I personally think the image of being stabbed by a pallid, franatic man in business attire is way more frightening, so that's the direction I'm leaning.

One last thing I wanted to mention before I wrap it up: when Rachel Nauss's body is found, Stuckey says her clothes are slashed up, which Harrison more or less confirms under interrogation. I couldn't find any frames that really show her clothing, but it's stated as fact in the episode.

However, Stuckey wasn't in the room when Harrison was interrogated and possibly didn't know that he slashed Rachel Nauss's clothing because he thought she was wearing a wire. So, as far as I can tell (despite what Fin says to the contrary), Annie May Lawson's clothing isn't really slashed up the was Rachel Nauss's was; instead, Stuckey opened her shirt and slashed her bare chest.

I can only assume he did this because he wasn't aware of the significance that slashing the clothing itself had when it came to Harrison's delusions, so he thought the chest slashing was just part of his M.O., but I'm kind of surprised that this detail escaped the notice of detectives, since Annie May Lawson's clothing is only torn in the places where she was stabbed.

Honestly, I think this detail points to the detectives' tunnel vision in the episode*. Sure, if you hear hoof beats, you shouldn't immediately look for zebras, but maybe if you're seeing stripes you shouldn't rule them out.

*or it's an error in the costuming department, but let me have my fun.

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.” 

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.” 

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.” 

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers.��

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred. 

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head. 

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining. 

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again. 

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table. 

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now. 

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.  

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.  

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.” 

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!” 

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support. 

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier. 

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now. 

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well. 

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.” 

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him. 

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist. 

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them. 

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.” 

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left. 

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping. 

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered. 

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers. 

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now. 

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure. 

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right? 

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.” 

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe. 

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone. 

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair. 

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while. 

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.” 

[ejzah]

I made this comment last night after the episode aired: Who wants to bet that the outfits Deeks was modeling involved increasingly less material as the night progressed? Much to Deeks’ chagrin and Kensi and Kirkin’s delight.

A/N: I definitely ran with this idea, @chicgeekgirl89. I hope you enjoy.

***

Quid Pro Quo

“This is completely ridiculous,” Deeks muttered for the hundredth time. He glanced over at Kensi who was happily sipping at her champagne-completely tipsy at this point and apparently past the point of caring what Anatoli Kirkin did with him-and what looked like a thin cookie of some kind.

“Oh come now, Marty,” Kirkin said in a cajoling voice, popping up from behind the camera. “You know I love it when you pout and act all grumpy, but this is not what envisioned for this photo shoot.”

“Yeah, Marty, don’t be all pouty,” Kensi chimed in, snorting to herself. Glancing over his shoulder, he glared at her and she made a concerted, but in the end futile, effort not to laugh.

Honestly, he would probably be laughing too if one of the other guys were forced to wear something that resembled the imaginings of someone on LSD. Of course, no one else on the team had a crazy Russian ex-criminal who was obsessed with them and likely to make strange requests as a form of payment. He was just that lucky.

His current outfit was black with orange stripes, making him resemble something like a strange wasp. At least there weren’t any animals attached to it this time.

“Chin up.” Kirkin directed him with a little waving gesture which Deeks followed with a reluctant sigh. “Perfect! Time for the next outfit.”

That left four more by Deeks’ count. Without a word, he accepted the latest garment bag from Kirkin and headed for the changing rooms. He supposed he was lucky Kirkin had allowed him that small privacy.

He came back out a couple minutes later, in black pants and a light blue dress shirt paired with a black tie and shoes that probably cost more than Deeks’ whole wardrobe put together. It was the least offensive thing he’d worn all night.

“Not bad,” Kensi commented when he walked back into the photography room and took up the pose Kirkin kept asking for. “Not bad at all.” Her eyes slid down to butt and he frowned at her.

“I agree, but there’s just a little something missing,” Kirkin said with a little sigh. He looked Deeks up and down too and then clapped his hands together. He started to reach towards Deeks and then glanced in Kensi’s direction and drew back. “Martin, could you roll your sleeves up? Just above the elbows.”

Shaking his head, Deeks rolled each sleeve up a few times while Kirkin watched eagerly.

“It’s almost the same as the first case when we met.” Lowering his voice, Kirkin added, “You remember, when we were both naked in the Russian baths.” This time he did touch Deeks; it was little more than a brush of his knuckles against Deeks’ forearm, but it was enough to make him shudder uncomfortably.

“Hey, keep your hands to yourself,” Kensi ordered, a note of warning in her voice. She suddenly sounded competent sober and dangerous. Kirkin obviously heard it too because he immediately dropped his hand, and moved behind the safety of the camera again.

“I apologize. I was...overcome,” he said, his expression a little guilty.

The next half hour passed in a blur. Kirkin brought in several more props for Deeks to pose with. Then two more costume changes. Deeks noticed that the clothes were getting increasingly smaller and tighter.

Currently, he was wearing a pair of exceedingly white pants and a shiny blue shirt that was straight out of “Saturday Night Fever”. The shirt gaped open, revealing the majority of his chest and stomach.

“The 70’s had its perks,” Kensi commented, moving her chair to get a better view.

“No more champagne for you,” Deeks told her firmly.

“You look absolutely wonderful! Those pants fit you like a glove and your chest...” Kirkin made a wistful sound. “You have never looked better.”

“Can we get on with this?”

“Of course. Now for this one, I’d like you to put your left arm in the air and the other on your hip.”

“I’m not doing disco poses, Kirkin.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Deeks tried to look as serious as he could while wearing pants that left very little to the imagination. They felt tighter than anything he’d worn in his exotic dancing days.

“Maaarty, you promised...” Kirkin gave him a pointed look while throwing adopting the post he apparently wanted Deeks to mimic.

“I promised to do a photo shoot, not a feature for Play Girl magazine,” Deeks said,

“I’d buy that issue.” Off to the side, Kensi regraded him with a lascivious look in her eye.

“Me too,” Kirkin added, so quietly Deeks wasn’t sure he’d heard him.

“Oh my god! Fine, I’ll do it.” He tossed his head back with a groan and planted a hand on one hip. “Anything to get this over with. But-“ he pointed between Kensi and Kirkin, two people he never thought would be joining ranks against him- “no one else will ever hear about this or see these photos.”

“Of course.” Kensi nodded along with Kirkin, pressing her lips together either in apparent delight or to hold back laughter again. Kirkin snapped a few more pictures, moving more quickly than he had before. Maybe he realized that Deeks was reaching the end of his patience.

“And now for the last outfit,” Kirkin announced, letting out a sad little sigh. “I have enjoyed this evening together.”

“Yeah it’s been great,” Deeks drawled sarcastically.

“I’ll be back in just a few moments.” He touched Deeks arm as he left the room, but this time Kensi didn’t seem to notice.

“This is so much worse than I imagined.” He plopped down in a chair beside Kensi, pushing on the bridge of his nose to alleviate the inevitable head ache he felt coming.

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Kensi said, tilting her head as she eyed him again. She reached over and trailed her fingers down his chest, pausing on his abs.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head at her. “I brought you along to protect me.”

“I am still perfectly capable of protecting you.” She gave him a lazy smile and winked. “And enjoying the view.”

Before Deeks could comment on that, Kirkin returned with a surprisingly small bag this time.

“I was saving this for a very special occasion,” he said with a smile that made Deeks highly suspicious. Kensi leaned forward to get a better look as Kirkin reached in and removed the item of clothing.

It was small and checkered. God, what was with the guy and checkers?”

“Are those...?”

“Hot pants!” Kensi finished, laughing on clear delight. “Oh my god, they’re checkered hot pants.”

“I designed them myself.”

Deeks just stared for a minute, completely horrified. Apparently Kirkin thought it was admiration. His obsession with checkers was disturbing, but at least there weren’t any stuffed animals involved. Probably because there wasn’t room.

“You are delusional if you think I’m putting those on, Kirkin,” Deeks said, laughing at he absurdity of it. “I will wear your ludicrous idea of a coat, I’ll even hold your creepy stuffed animals, but I will not wear hot pants for you.”

“What about our deal?” Kirkin asked, giving the shorts a little shake. “You didn’t make any stipulations.”

“And that was a grave error on my part. I blame it on the overwhelming fumes of hairspray clouding my head.”

“Your hard work deserves to be recognized.” He turned to Kensi when Deeks remained stone-faced. “Kensi, tell him those muscles, deserve to be on display.”

“Yeah, I’m not quite that drunk.”

“Imagine how these-” he gave the pants another shake- “will emphasize those beautiful muscles, tan, and his tight bottom.”

“Alright, we’re out of here,” Deeks decided, grabbing Kensi’s hand and tugging her along after him.

“Marty, please don’t go,” Kirkin called frantically. “The pictures don’t even need to be published. They’ll go straight to my private collection! Martin?!”

“I am so glad I came along,” Kensi said, giggling to herself. “This goes in my top 10 favorite days.”

“You are a terrible body guard.” He tried to maintain a serious expression, but he couldn’t in the face of Kensi’s amusement.

“Oh please, Kirkin would never do anything to hurt you.” She patted his arm and added, “He adores you too much.”

“Fantastic,” he muttered.

“You know,” Kensi said a few minutes later as they drove home. “We totally should have snagged those shorts.”

“You really want to see me in checkered hot pants?”

“I’m curious.” She shrugged. “And as Kirkin said, you have a very nice butt.”

***

A/N: The reference to drawnings/paintings comes from some of my other stories where I’ve had Kirkin give Deeks a series of highly inappropriate gifts.

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Ep 14

Hey, I’m getting all my screencaps from Netflix now, because I finally figured out how lol. That means I’m also getting the subtitles from there (and I’ve seen a lot of Netflix haters, but at lease we won’t get “Wei Ying, clam down” and other ridiculous errors). This is just for your reference. I hope the quality of the images will be a little bit better. So I’m both looking forward to and dreading this episode. On the plus side, the first half or so is wangxian, on the downside, the rest is not. And it marks the beginning of the Lan Wangji Drought™, and subsequently my least favorite part in the entire series (not counting the Yi City arc, which, as you may recall, I have not watched yet). But let’s get started, shall we?

We left our heroes in the Xuanyu Cave. Lan Wangji was asleep and Wei Wuxian as being thoughtful and adorable. Now they are both awake and hatching a plan to defeat the Tortoise of Slaughter. Wei Wuxian is talking about the fame and glory that they’ll receive if they defeat it, but on the other hand, if they are killed by the monster, that’s not a bad way to go. Again, even though Lan Wangji’s leg is doing better, even though they survived the first brushes with death with both the Wens and the mythical monster, here they are, about to face death again. But they have no choice, right? It’s either fight the Tortoise of Slaughter or starve. The crux of this whole arc for me is that it changes their relationship forever. You don’t almost die together and not have that change you and the relationship you have with that other person. And I think that’s what makes their reunion after several months so much harder and so much sadder (I’m itching to get to that scene, which is so far from here, ughhh).

Arts and crafts project with bae! Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I kind of love this scene, though, for what it is: the two of them quietly working together, each with his own task. There’s something kind of domestic about it, even in this dire situation. Also Lan Wangji is doing most of the work. It’s fucking hard to string/unstring a bow.

And when they’re picking up all the bows and arrows, I’m always thinking that the others made such a mess! They just chucked the arrows everywhere, dropped their bows. But why are there so many arrows on the ground? You’d think they’d mostly be in the water, as that’s where the Tortoise of Slaughter was. You know? I’m not gonna think to hard about this.

Imagine that instead of the bowstring, it’s actually one of those sticky hand things that you can swing around and stick to walls.

I spent too much time on that, I’m sorry.

Again, Lan Wangji is reminded that he’s injured and can’t be a ton of help in this situation. And I think he’s bothered by this quite a bit—not because he wants to play hero and save Wei Wuxian, but I think because he doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to bear too great a burden alone. And I think Wei Wuxian is coming from a place of caring and kindness when he points all that out. It’s not as if he wants glory either: he realizes that he is their best chance of survival, and he also knows he can count on Lan Wangji to be there for him.

This smile is so warm, so kind, so loving. Yeah, it is loving. And I do think that this sort of relationship is a big deal in the context of this story. You have two people from different clans, who have vastly different upbringings (although there are similarities with their parents’ deaths), able to come together and genuinely feel friendship for one another. This kind of thing is not that common, seemingly, in this world. It happens, right? It happens for political reasons (sworn brothers, etc.), it happens when there are marriages between clans—but we know that it isn’t common to have this particular kind of friendship, because the script literally pointed it out to us: Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. They are different—they are close, they are soulmates, even (in a platonic way). And Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are held up to them as a direct comparison (“Lan Zhan and I went on a night hunt together”). And wangxian isn’t a friendship of convenience—they weren’t forced here together and then they have to tough it out—this was all chosen. And I think this is where the whole “soulmate” conversation becomes important, in that them coming together and forming that bond in the Cloud Recesses was driven by some kind of fate. That initial meeting, those subsequent experiences they had—if those things hadn’t happened, they probably wouldn’t be in this cave together right now. That being said, the fact that they are in this cave together right now is definitely not fate. This was a choice—or a series of choices—made by the two of them. Had there been no friendship or love between these two, Lan Wangji would have left the cave with the others. Maybe Jiang Cheng would have stayed behind, or maybe someone else would have, or possibly no one! I like to think Lan Wangji would have stayed regardless of any feelings he has towards Wei Wuxian, simply because he’s that kind of person. He stands up for Mianmian because it’s the right thing to do, for example. But as things are, it’s important that Lan Wangji stayed because of Wei Wuxian—because of his feelings for him, because of their friendship, because they have this connection to each other. And I think it’s vital that Lan Wangji is the one to first see what the Yin Iron can do to a person, specifically the person he loves.

So I thought this whole little section here was just Wei Wuxian monologuing in his head the first time I watched this. And then he’s suddenly having a conversation with Lan Wangji, and I was like, “huh?” I am pretty sure I had to rewind and rewatch just so I could understand it with the newly-acquired knowledge that Wei Wuxian was actually talking to Lan Wangji. I’m find being a little confused, but would it have killed them to make Lan Wangji say, “Now we can communicate while you’re inside” or something to that extent, after using his little powers?

Anyhow, fuck, it’s horrible in there! I feel like the smell is visceral, even though I’m watching it on my laptop, it’s like I can feel the damp, air, thick with the smell of death and decay. Credit to Xiao Zhan for just really selling me on what it feels like to be in there. Also I’m so curious what they’ve got him walking through. I wish there were some BTS on that scene. I can imagine (because this is how my mind works) how difficult it was to clean his costume after that. Like that crap must have gotten into every tiny little nook and cranny of his shoes, and just YUCK! They were like, “Just throw them out. We have another pair.”

Since Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in a sense psychically linked here, does that mean that Lan Wangji can feel the energy that Wei Wuxian feels from the sword? He’s definitely reacting to something going on, but then I think Wei Wuxian talks about it later as if Lan Wangji doesn’t know. The romantic in me says that Lan Wangji is reacting because they are so spiritually connected that he can feel when something is wrong.

And now we have this very long action sequence where Lan Wangji does a lot of flying around and Wei Wuxian clings to that sword like Harry Potter on that bucking broomstick in the first movie. I’m sorry, that’s all I think about, and that thought will never leave my mind. What’s kind of cool is that they remind us immediately that Lan Wangji is still injured, by showing us his bloody leg right at the start of this sequence. So he’s flying around, using everything he’s got left, while still being gravely injured—it shows you just how powerful Lan Wangji is. He’s no weakling.

Another cool detail is that you can actually see the staining on Wei Wuxian’s boots from the muck he was walking around in! Nice continuity!

I can’t help it, anytime Lan Wangji yells out, “Wei Ying!” I melt into a puddle on the floor. There’s something about how little he does talk that when he does, it’s important and meaningful and impactful. And, yes, most of his lines are yelling out Wei Ying’s name, but that doesn’t make it any less meaningful when he does it. Every time he says it, it’s a reminder that there is a strong relationship there. As I’ve said before, even Jiang Cheng doesn’t call him by his given name. This is not just an everyday friendship here—it’s more than that—it’s a bond that can’t be broken even in death. That might sound silly and dramatic, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And that’s why when I hear him say, “Wei Ying!” it draws to the surface all of these other feelings. It’s not just a name, it’s not just a line—it’s something so much more.

Also, I want to point out that as soon as Lan Wangji figures out something is indeed very wrong with Wei Wuxian, he goes into overdrive. His hands are bleeding from the bowstring in his hand, his teeth are gritted, he somehow reaches into himself for even more power to defeat this monster.

Seriously? How dare you interrupt my wangxian scene with this garbage? I could not care less about anything going on in this scene. Just fuck off. The worst cut ever. What a stupid cut.

So, as if the Tortoise of Slaughter wasn’t bad enough, this poor kid (because he is just a kid) is now traumatized by the voices coming out of that sword. The pain, the fear, the negative energy—all of it was coursing through him, and worst of all, perhaps, he was even able to use that energy to defeat the monster. And I think, now that he’s felt it and seen it and used it, there’s really no going back. Dangerous? Yes, it’s dangerous, but it’s also powerful, and it saved their lives.

This part kills me every time, though, no matter how many times I see it. Wei Wuxian is just a husk of the person he was ten minutes ago. Where’s that cocky, smirking smartass? Where’s the Wei Wuxian we all know and love? But the reality is, part of him is lost. And throughout the scene, he’s clutching that sword, as if his life still depended on it. He won’t let that thing go, and I also find that hard to watch. And Lan Wangji here is out of his mind, desperate to help him. He runs into the water so fast, as if there is no leg injury at all. And, of course, that’s adrenaline for you, but it’s also just a testament to his strength and resolve and his willingness to go into a literal hell for Wei Wuxian.

And even in his feverish state, Wei Wuxian can’t help but tease Lan Wangji a little, pointing out that he never expected Second Master Lan to be this concerned about him. But it’s interesting that he uses that formal title there, as if he’s putting distance between them. Wei Wuxian is just Wei Wuxian—Wei Ying—and Lan Wangji is Second Master Lan. Whether it’s intentional or not, he’s drawing attention to this hierarchical difference between them, and I don’t think it’s a self-worth issue at all, because I think Wei Wuxian is okay with who his is—I don’t think he has qualms about that really. It’s more driving home the point of we shouldn’t be this close. Or isn’t it funny that we are this close? And he later draws a parallel to Jiang Cheng (again) by saying that at least Jiang Cheng wouldn’t be a boring companion (EDIT: Okay, he doesn’t say that—maybe in the book?). Ironic, because their stay in Xuanwu cave has been anything but boring. But I also think Jiang Cheng would not have been able to maintain his cool at all in that cave. No, I think that Wei Wuxian needed Lan Wangji to survive. He needed someone a little cold, logical, quick-witted, but desperate.

OMG, ALSO! Can I point out the lovely, beautiful, haunting cello music that’s playing this whole time? Not on the OST, which is a damn shame. So you’ll have to watch the episode to hear it, but it’s just so beautiful.

And pause for the clip show that will also make you cry!

“Wangxian.” Yes, yes, the greatest mystery of this whole series—the name of the song and how Lan Wangji immediately recognized Wei Wuxian in the second episode. So I don��t think they ever actually tell you the name of the song, right? It’s like this fun little thing for the fans of the book, and maybe they couldn’t say it because of censorship (because of what it implies, you know?). I’m not a great lip reader, but it looks like “Wangxian” to me. And if he’s saying something else, I don’t care—it is going to be Wangxian to me, regardless.

Man, this scene, though. I can never really hear the humming because you have to turn up the volume so damn loud, and even then it’s hard to hear. Maybe it’s just me. The first time I watched it, I was like, is he actually humming? I don’t hear anything. I was, again, confused. But anyway, it’s good that we see all those scenes with Lan Wangji, because guess what? You’re not going to see him for three or four episodes, FML. FML. FML.

FML.

Can you tell I’m not excited about these upcoming parts? Honestly it’s so tempting to skip it, but that’s not the point of this rewatch. I likely won’t have a ton to say, though, so maybe I’ll do more than one a week (don’t count on it, though).

Okay, guys. Here we go. If you think Jiang Cheng is a kind, gentle soul with a rough exterior, then you may not want to read the next few episodes. I like Jiang Cheng. I do. However, he is an asshole. A complete and total asshole with the occasional kind word thrown someone’s way. I think he cares about Wei Wuxian, as I’ve said before, but that he cares about himself far more. He is the antithesis to Lan Wangji. And that’s definitely on purpose. So, feel free to send me asks or whatever (and that goes for anyone, by the way—I don’t bite and I like to chat with people), but you’re not going to be able to convince me even that CQL Jiang Cheng is a good guy. I think you could try and read him that way, but you’d be ignoring some key things in his behavior and his character.

All right. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s start anew. It fucking sucks that the first people Wei Wuxian sees upon waking up are Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng, both of which essentially scold him immediately, as if he didn’t fucking save their lives back there. I’m sorry, that guy right there—yeah, him—he was read to sacrifice himself to save you. Jin Zixuan, “I didn’t do it for you.” Then why? You did it for Lan Wangji? Or you did it because it would be politically advantageous to you because you were engaged to Jiang Yanli? I’m just saying, be nicer to the man who was willing to die for you, okay?

Oh, my god, as if that weren’t enough, Jiang Cheng actually gets angry that Wei Wuxian doesn’t thank him! And this isn’t some macho guy thing where he just can’t show that he cares about him—this is just who Jiang Cheng is. He thinks of himself first and others second. Period.

So aside from those two being assholes, we do at least get some information here. The clans are now all resolved to fight against the Wen Clan. They all know what’s going on and they’re finally ready to stand up against it. The Cloud Recesses is trashed and Lan Wangji left on his own to go back, presumably to take it back from the Wens. I would have loved a heartfelt scene of them getting out together, but that isn’t even in the book, so CQL isn’t going to add that kind of nice stuff, I guess. But they did add this scene, which is mostly just showcasing that Jin Zixuan and Wei Wuxian still don’t like each other, Jiang Cheng is an asshole, and the world is generally fucked up right now.

A reminder that even though he’s in the bright sunlight, Wei Wuxian still has this darkness. It’s permeated him now. He can’t turn away from it. It’s part of him. And it’s something he can’t really share with anyone else—Lan Wangji to a point, but even he doesn’t get to know everything. However, he is, I think, the only one who would have listened.

Cute detail from the book, that Wei Wuxian had carved this into his headboard. What a romantic lol. I don’t have anything special to say other than, y’know, those two could be both guys.

It’s hard to even know what to say here. So much is going on, so many emotions, so many accusations—and Wei Wuxian is caught up in all of this. Madam Yu starts by chastising him for making trouble when he didn’t need to (she thought it better to let the Jins and Lans handle things, no need for the Jiangs to get involved), and then it spirals into this horrible tirade about Jiang Fengmian being hung up on Wei Wuxian’s mother, and in turn favoring Wei Wuxian over his own son because of it. There is so much jealousy and hatred and guilt wrapped up in all of this, it’s hard to even comment. I can’t imagine growing up the way Jiang Cheng did, feeling second best in everything by someone who’s not even your actual brother, feeling like your own father doesn’t really love you as much as he loves someone else. And now throw in that your father doesn’t love your mother because he had an affair with another woman. I can’t imagine how awful that would be. And despite what people might say, it’s hard to really, truly, break away from your parents, especially in a culture like this. It’s important to honor your parents in everything, so standing up to them is a definite no-no. And Jiang Cheng probably feels like the only parent who really loves him is his mother, even though she is the worst person ever. This doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it does help explain a bit of why he does the things he does to Wei Wuxian. I think he’s itching to feel superior over him, and that he’s been extremely jealous of him for a long, long time.

And then, god, what Wei Wuxian is feeling here! He’s the first one to always take the hit for Jiang Cheng. He’s always going to do whatever he can to make him feel better. He makes the sacrifices. That’s part of who Wei Wuxian is—he’s very selfless and courageous. I also can’t imagine how he feels, to be stuck in the middle of this very personal, very private family argument. The kind of raw emotion that’s on display in this scene is hard for me to watch. It’s awkward, it’s ugly, it’s a dark side to family dynamics that a lot of us thankfully never have to experience. It’s horrible to think that even when Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were basically awaiting death in that cave, it was quite peaceful, though the landscape was harsh. And now that he’s back in this peaceful setting of Lotus Pier, he’s faced with another monster in the form of his adoptive family.

Of course Wei Wuxian knows that Jiang Fengmian doesn’t love him more—he’s harsher with Jiang Cheng because he’s the heir and he needs to be tougher, he needs to be able to lead this clan. I’m curious if Jiang Fengmian actually did have an affair, but if anything, it was probably emotional. I don’t think that Wei Wuxian is his love child or anything. But at the end of the day, the way I read this is just that the man has trouble being there for his son on an emotional level, and he feels bad for Wei Wuxian and overcompensates for that by giving him more attention. The thing is, while I don’t agree with it, I think he’s harder on his son because Jiang Cheng needs to someday lead. All Wei Wuxian needs to do is support that. And he does. He always supports Jiang Cheng. Always, that is, until Wei Wuxian finally starts to think about what he wants to do with his life, and he doesn’t want to spend it torturing people who don’t deserve it.

The Twin Prides of Yunmeng. It’s a nice idea, but it relies on Wei Wuxian submitting himself to Jiang Cheng at all times for the rest of their lives. It makes Wei Wuxian give up his agency. It makes him give up his dream to do what’s right and always have a clear conscience. If he had followed Jiang Cheng into fire, he would have had to lose himself in the process. So this is a promise that Wei Wuxian could never hope to keep. Although it’s a nice promise, it was said to make Jiang Cheng feel better.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |

[eyesforjade]

2: the snap

Summary: The situation wasn’t going as Tony wanted, not even close. When he went out for a walk with Pepper that morning, he didn't expect to be on an alien ship going to another planet, much less that a magician would appear during this walk, accompanied by Bruce Banner with yet another threat for them to confront. Stark hoped his life would become easier after he had partially abandoned his armor and chosen to live a normal life with Pepper and his daughter Elisabeth, but things had to get worse in one way or another.

Word count: 10,5k.

Warnings: I’m from Brazil, I write in portuguese and translate to english, with what I know and learn from the language, and with some help of google translate, it may oy may not be understadble, but I’m trying my best, and hope you like it.

Masterlist

 The situation wasn’t going as Tony wanted, not even close. When he went out for a walk with Pepper that morning, he didn't expect to be on an alien ship going to another planet, much less that a magician would appear during this walk, accompanied by Bruce Banner with yet another threat for them to confront. Stark hoped his life would become easier after he had partially abandoned his armor and chosen to live a normal life with Pepper and his daughter Elisabeth, but things had to get worse in one way or another.

He remembers the tranquility of things before leaving home. Lisa was talking excitedly about an excursion the Midtown school would take the students, and how excited she and Peter were. He remembers to smile, and to face Pepper who had a huge smile on her face, he remembers when his daughter left home to go to school, and Pepper looked at him saying that these two were unexpected, and that she was curious to know where that relationship would go. Tony thought the same thing, and so he fought tooth and nail to keep the boy safe.

Thinking on a positive side, Tony was happy to be with Peter, because it meant his little girl was safe on Earth. It was selfish to think about it like that, the boy took an important part in Tony's life, he was like the son he never had, and he has won this place since he started a friendship with his daughter a few years ago. The boy had acquired powers after being bitten by a radioactive spider and assumed the mantle of Spiderman after that, years later, Stark would recruit him to help him with the Captain America X Sokovia Accords case, or as his daughter nicknamed "Civil war".

Which led him to the current situation. Trapped in a spaceship, with a plan based on a movie about aliens, without many options, Tony follows the boy's plan without hesitation, and in the end, it was a good plan, perhaps not the best way to save the wizard, but a plan that had worked. The spaceship belonged to the three now, and the next step was to think about what they would do next, Stark watched Peter talking to Strange's magic cloak, while his own costume retracted, turning over the clothes he wore for his walk.

 "We got to turn the ship over." Stephen speaks, getting up quickly, the cape quickly adapts to his body.

“Yeah, now he wants to run. Great plan”. Tony replies approaching Parker, seeing if the boy hasn't been hurt in any way. If in Sokovia his daughter had gone against him, just because he was using Peter in a battle that wasn’t his, imagine what she would do if the boy got hurt here.

"No, I want to protect the stone". After checking it, Tony turns to the steering part of the ship, it wasn’t designed for human hands, but rather, Thanos's hands, alone he wouldn’t be able to control the ship.

“And I want you to thank me. Go ahead, I’m listening”.

"For what?" He hears the man's voice. "Nearly blasting me to space?"

"Who just saved your magical ass?" Tony turns around, facing the man. "Me".

"I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet." Tony goes back to analyzing the system, while Stephen approaches him.

"Admit it, you should have ducked out when I told you to". Peter didn't dare say anything while the two argued, so he just kept close to the two of them watching. “I tried to bench you, you refused. Almost as stubborn as my daughter...”

"Unlike everyone else in your life, I don't work for you."

"And due to that fact, we’re now in a flying doughnut..." The comment made Strange roll his eyes, this conversation wouldn’t take them anywhere. "Billions of miles away from Earth, with no backup".

"I’m backup". Peter takes the comment as an opportunity to join the conversation.

"No, you’re a stowaway". Tony says quickly, pointing a finger at himself and then at Stephen. “The adults are talking”.

"I’m sorry, I’m confused as to the relationship here." Stephen looks at Stark with a confused expression, pointing his finger at Peter. "What is he, your ward?"

"No". Peter quickly extends his hand. "I'm Peter, by the way."

"Doctor Strange". Stephen speaks quickly, not shaking Peter's hand.

"Oh, we’re using our made-up names". Peter steps back nervously. "Um… I'm Spiderman, then". Stephen looks at him, and without saying anything else, starts to approach Tony.

“This ship is self-correcting its course. Thing’s autopilot". Tony informs the other man.

"Can we control it?" Peter begins to approach the two, while Strange leads questions about the situation. "Fly us home?" After a time of no response from the other man, Stephen speaks again. "Stark?"

"Yeah?”

"Can you take us home?" Tony nods, but his mind doesn't want to follow that plan. "Yeah, I heard you". Stark folds his arms, looking back at the wizard. "I'm not so sure if we should".

"Under no circumstance can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos". The wizard makes it clear once again, making Tony sigh. "I don't think you quite understand what's at stake here".

"No". Tony approaches the man. “It’s you who doesn't understand, that Thanos has been inside my head for six years, since he sent an army to New York and now he's back!” Peter remembers the 2012 attack, like it was yesterday, Lisa was at his house when the attack started, Pepper had left the girl there before going to a conference in Washington, and he remembers what it was like to see his best friend worried about her father. "And I don't know what to do, so, I’m not so sure if it’s a better plan to fight him on our turf or his... But you saw what they did, what they can do". Stephen regarded Tony as if he was as crazy as he seemed, that plan could end terribly badly, and trial and error wasn’t a viable option. “At least on his turf, he’s not expecting. So, I say we take the fight to him”. Tony was silent for a few seconds, considering the other man's expression, he didn't know how far they could go, and it was a very risky thing, but it was worth the try. "Doctor. Do you concur?"

"Alright, Stark". The man speaks calmly, he knew what he was risking there, and understood the responsibility he had the moment he put the necklace holding the stone on his neck. “We go to him. But you have to understand... If it comes to saving you or the kid or the Time Stone... I will not hesitate to let either of you die”. While Tony didn't look shaken, Peter's heart had probably skipped a beat or two, it was a lot of responsibility, planning such an attack, and it was at times like this, that he would rather have listened to his best friend, he should have stayed on the bus. "I can't, because the fate of the universe depends on it".

"Nice. Good. Moral compass”. Tony fiddles with his cloak, as if fixing it, and starts to approach Peter. "We’re straight. Alright, kid". Peter didn't move, and just watched Tony make a hand gesture, from one shoulder to the other. "You’re an Avenger now." Despite his nervousness, and as the whole situation scared him, Peter couldn't help but smile at what the man had said, he understood the responsibility of carrying that title, and he knew that he couldn't let Tony down, he couldn't let anyone down.

 ☼

 It was supposed to be just another excursion, or that was what Elisabeth Stark thought when she left home. When you're the daughter of the famous billionaire and philanthropist Tony Stark, you can expect literally anything when you leave the house, going from being recognized by your father's not-so-secret "identity" to a donut-shaped alien spaceship invading Earth, and today, the tour to the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan had been interrupted by the second option, and Lisa couldn't be more nervous.

Elisabeth had seen the ship from the place she sat near MJ, who was just talking to her about her friends and the place they were going to. She could see that Peter had also seen the ship and knew well that the boy wouldn’t be on the bus for very long, which made her even more nervous. She knew him well enough, knew that he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to help the city, and understood that she wouldn’t be able to stop him for anything in the world.

 "Holy shit!" Lisa and MJ turned their gaze to Peter and Ned, the four now aware of the ship in the sky, and Elisabeth was sure that Parker had asked Leeds to distract the rest of the students. “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” Without having to do anything else, Ned gets up and goes to the back of the bus, followed by MJ and several other students, leaving Peter and Lisa sitting in their seats. "THERE’S A SPACESHIP!"

"Think about what you're doing". Lisa whispers to her best friend, watching him put web shooters on his wrists.

"Saving the city". He responds with a smile, trying to reassure the girl.

"Putting yourself in danger". Peter with a quick gesture, puts his hand on his friend's face, giving a huge smile.

"I wouldn't be the friendly neighborhood buddy if I didn't do that". Before Peter could move, Elisabeth held his hand, making him look at her quickly, Ned's distraction had worked, but he needed to be quicker if he wanted to leave before anyone noticed that he was gone. "I'll be right back".

"No matter what you think at the time..." He looks at his friend confused, not understanding where she was going. "If my father thinks about getting on that ship, stop him, and above all, if he gets in that thing, get back to the bus".

"Lis, I ..."

"Promise me". Without saying anything else, the boy nods, leaving through the emergency exit quickly, leaving Elisabeth alone on the seat. Taking a deep breath, Elisabeth gets up, following the example of the other students, but soon realizing that one of the students hadn’t followed Ned's distraction, sitting on the seat in the back, Harry Osborn was smiling towards her.

"That was... interesting?" With a nervous smile, Lisa notices the students return to their seats and the bus stops, quickly, she sits down next to Harry. "So, Spiderman and Iron Heart, great partners..." Harry was one of her best friends, she met the boy at a science fair when the boy complained about his father giving more recognition to other people than to his own son, this started a friendship between the two, and has been expanding, and now Harry, Peter, Ned, MJ and Lisa were inseparable.

"Didn't you go see the donut-shaped ship?" Harry smiles widely at the comment.

“Are you kidding? This to me is like a weekend dinner at home”. Lisa accompanies her friend, laughing about it. The driver suggested that everyone stay calm and reported the situation to the teacher responsible for the excursion, and it seemed that Roger Harrington didn’t have a smooth trip.

"I urge everyone to remain calm, the roads leading to Manhattan have been temporarily closed." The professor points to the ship. “Because of that. We have no prediction for when we can continue our journey, or if we should continue, so stay together and stay on the bus, and...” All students remain silent, and the teacher seemed lost in his lines, just nodding his head and sitting back down.

"You know, I'm starting to think that this guy should take a vacation". MJ says quickly, approaching the bench that Osborn and Stark sat on, Lisa turns around with a smile, seeing that Ned and Flash were with her.

"Stark, you who are experienced in this kind of thing..." Flash starts making MJ roll his eyes, waiting for something stupid to come out of her mouth. "How likely are we to die on this bus?"

"That’s so low mood, Thompson." Brad yells from the back of the bus.

"Yeah, nobody's going to die." MJ replies, but in her eyes, I could see that there was a certain uncertainty in what she said.

"We will only be stuck on the road for a few minutes, it's not like the world is going to end for this". Betty speaks, rolling her eyes and sitting down next to Ned.

 However, what would be minutes ended up becoming hours. Stark remained vigilant with the ship practically all the time, talked to her friends to distract her mind, while the bus wasn’t moving anymore, and after practically an hour, the ship disappeared from the skies, and she had no news of Peter and neither of her father, indicating that the two of them would probably be inside the ship. After a few more minutes, Elisabeth realized that she also couldn't stand there, she had to get off the bus and find help as soon as possible, to know what was going on outside the bus.

She could hear Harry and Flash talking about the ship, and Ned was asking her what would happen next. MJ sat in silence on the bench next to her and looked out the window as if all of her problems were going to disappear while she didn't look, Betty stayed close to them, but hardly talked, Lisa was sure she liked the company of Leeds, and that somehow it comforted her. Stark didn't know how to answer all of the questions, and felt almost immediately, her heart ease when her cell phone started ringing. She looked quickly at her cell phone, seeing the contact name “Uncle Rhodey”, without thinking twice, she answers.

 "Hello?" Her words came out almost in a whisper, and she felt relief when James Rhodes started talking to her.

"What's up, little princess?" The group of friends she had around her were practically silent, and all she could hear on the bus was the other students talking to each other.

"He's on the ship, isn't he?" Elisabeth knew the answer to that question, she understood that everyone needed to act quickly to stop the threat, including her.

"According to Pepper, he is". The girl hears this, and closes her eyes in agreement, as if she is trying to assimilate it yet, the chances of Peter being on the ship with him were enormous. "And that's why I need you, there's something coming, and we don't have enough people to fight it".

"Which is?" She opens her eyes again, seeing Harry looking worried, he even holds her hand, and she realizes that her friends had practically the same expression as Osborn.

"A big guy named Thanos, he's after some Stones". Stones? Stark had so many questions in his head, who was Thanos? What did he want? And what were these Stones he was looking for? “Listen, I need you here, where are you? Do you need me to pick you up?”

"On a bus on the Queensboro Bridge, where do I need to go?" From the expression that Harry had now on his face, he knew that she wouldn’t be with them, and quickly, the boy was already getting up to talk to the teacher, being followed by MJ and Ned.

"Do you have your suit with you?" She quickly says yes. "Perfect, meet me at the Avengers headquarters, I'll explain everything here".

 Ignoring Flash's various questions regarding what was going on, Elisabeth gets up, passing Harry and MJ, looking at the teacher. He seemed nervous, but he wasn't sure how to deal with the situation, letting one of his students out was practically irresponsible, all the students on the bus were under his supervision, not that Peter Parker cared about this, but looking at situation, he knew that the girl wouldn’t be useful here, and wherever the Avengers were, it would be the best place for her to be.

That was her cue, and she quickly went out of the bus, feeling every single eye of each classmate on her back. She passed a few cars, until she found the perfect takeoff point without damaging nobody’s property. Her suit had the same technology as her father's suits, Lisa had designed it herself, but always with some adjustments from Tony, the nanotechnology used in both suits was put on their bodies succinctly, while Tony's armor fit in his body according to the clothes he wore, hers fit inside a nanotechnological bracelet, where the armor stayed when she wasn’t wearing it, and with just a touch, the armor fit on her body.

With the armor on her body, she starts to take off, going to the meeting point. Passing through Manhattan made her aware of the damage done by the invaders, the records of her father's armor, indicated that Friday had evacuated the streets until 43, and notified the rescuers in the case of injured civilians. The streets were practically impassable, cars abandoned in practically the entire region of attack, and some places destroyed, probably due to the fighting that happened there.

Without thinking too much, Lisa accelerates the flight, needed to get to the Avengers headquarters right away, and find out how she could help. She took advantage of the flight to check some things about her father and Peter, Tony had activated the sending of 17: A, a new suit for Peter that the two had work together, with nanotechnology the suit would give an upgrade in everything that the old uniform of Peter had, including a way to go after his father in space, both his suit and Tony's were far from being traceable, and that worried her a lot.

Arriving at the base, she didn’t need to be received by anyone, her costume had already retracted into the bracelet, and she walked quickly through the halls of the place, meeting James in one of the meeting rooms, having a conference with the secretary Ross. Elisabeth remained silent, waiting for Rhodey to finish that conversation, she didn't know what was going on, but from what she heard from the conversation, Vision hadn’t yet been found, which only opened more questions in her head, why were they after Vision?

 "Still no word from Vision?"

"Satellites lost him somewhere over Edinburgh". Rhodey sends a smile towards her, being returned, she leans against a wall near the door that she had entered, crossing her arms.

"On a stolen Quinjet with four of the world’s most wanted criminals”. That's when she realized, Steve and Natasha were involved in this, she was sure Wanda was with Vision, just as Sam would be with Steve wherever he wanted him to go. If the situation was a case of life and death for the four to reveal their location to the world, it meant that it was imminent danger, just as Ultron was to Sokovia.

"You know they're only criminals because you’ve chosen to call them that, right, sir?" She looks back at Rhodes.

"My God, Rhodes". Rhodes had a serious look; it was the kind of look she only got when she did something that no one would approve. "Your talent for horseshit rivals my own”.

"If it weren't for those Accords, Vision would’ve been right here”. She looks at the hologram, seeing Ross quickly approach James.

"I remember your signature on those papers, Colonel".

"That’s right". Rhodes nods. "And I’m pretty sure I’ve paid for that".

"You have second thoughts?"

"Not anymore". The noise of the door; indicates that new people arrived at the place, she approaches Rhodes, seeing Steve, Natasha, Wanda and Sam, who was helping Vision to walk, her heart squeezes, she hadn’t seen the four in a long time.

"Mr. Secretary". Steve speaks, stopping at the door, looking at the three, Elisabeth can't help but smile at him.

"You got some nerve". The secretary walks again, facing Rogers. "I’ll give you that".

"You could use some of that right now". Natasha replies, the woman is completely different from what Elisabeth remembered, her hair was short at the shoulders and blond, as if she had changed to be easier to not be recognized.

"The world’s on fire". The secretary looks back at Steve. "And you think, all is forgiven?"

"I'm not looking for forgiveness." Steve speaks quickly. “And I'm way past asking for permission. Earth just lost her best defender. So we’re here to fight”. Rogers gets closer to the hologram. "And if you wanna stand in our way, we'll fight you, too".

"Arrest them". The secretary says, turning his gaze to Rhodes, that he does not lose his serious expression.

"All over it". Without thinking twice, Rhodes disconnects the communication with the secretary, making the holograms disappear. "That’s a court-martial". Elisabeth smiles at the comment, making James smile too. "It's great to see you, Cap". The two shake hands, while the others enter the room smiling.

"You too, Rhodey." Elisabeth quickly hugs Steve, while Natasha hugs Rhodes, and then quickly hugs Lisa.

"You grew up so much, what did two years did to you?" Natasha comments, staring at the girl, while Steve smiles and agrees, the little reunion is short-lived when Rhodes speaks again.

"Well... You guys really look like crap". Lisa turns her gaze to the other three, Wanda looked a little shaken, Sam had the same expression he always had in situations like this and Vision had a serious wound in his stomach. "Must’ve been a rough couple of years".

"Yeah, well, hotels weren't exactly five star". Sam says, giving a big smile.

"Uh, I think you look great". Another voice appears, and almost instantly, everyone turns around, seeing the new presence in the room. "Uh… heh… Yeah, I'm back”. Bruce Banner had a nervous smile, the Hulk had stolen a ship two years ago and fled far away, and now, he was back.

"Hi, Bruce". Natasha says, making the man practically speechless, the two looked at each other as if nothing else was important, while the rest of the room just watched the two.

"Nat".

"This is awkward”. Sam whispers, making everyone look at him, and then everyone started moving, going to another room, where they finally discuss what to do next. Elisabeth went to the other room with Natasha and Steve, and the two were telling about how much they had lost from her growth in the past two years, the two have been with her since the attack in 2012, where her father had become friends with the other Avengers, everything changed with the Sokovia Accords.

"So, we gotta assume they’re coming back, right?" Elisabeth turns her attention to Rhodes, who was facing a hologram of the two aliens who called themselves Children of Thanos, who ambushed Wanda and Vision.

"And they can clearly find us." Wanda comments, looking at everyone, Bruce walked around the room, and seemed to be the one who knew most about Thanos.

"We need all hands on deck". Bruce says aloud, looking at Natasha. "Where's Clint?"

"After the whole Accords situation, he and Scott took a deal." Bruce nods his head. "It was too tough for the families, they’re on house arrest".

"Who's Scott?" Bruce asks.

"Ant-Man". Steve responds, making Bruce turn around in confusion.

"There’s an Ant-Man and a Spider-Man?" Elisabeth nods, making Bruce wince. “Okay, look... Thanos has the biggest army in the universe... And he is not gonna stop until he...” He pauses, as if trying to ease the situation. “He gets… Vision’s Stone”.

"Well then, we have to protect it". Elisabeth speaks, getting up from the chair.

"No, we have to destroy it". Vision joins the conversation, making everyone look at him, who has a calm expression on his face. “I’ve been giving a good deal of thought to this entity in my head, about its nature”. Everyone was silent, just watching him, as he approached Wanda. "But also, its composition. I think that if it were exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source, something, very similar to its own signature, perhaps… Its molecular integrity could fail".

"And you, with it". Wanda looks at him calmly, everyone had understood what Vision was suggesting, destroying the Stone meant that Thanos wouldn’t be able to catch her. "We’re not having this conversation”.

"Eliminating the stone is the only way to be certain that Thanos can't get it”.

"That’s too high a price”. Vision holds his partner's head gently, staring at her.

"Only you have the power to pay it". Without saying anything else, Wanda moves away from his touch, walking away. "Thanos threatens half the Universe. One life cannot stand in the way of defeating him". Vision alert everyone, nobody seemed interested in following that plan.

"But it should". Steve speaks. "We don’t trade lives, Vision".

"Captain, 70 years ago, you laid down your life to save how many millions of people". Vision approaches Rogers, making him turn completely towards him. "Tell me, why is this any different?"

"Because you might have a choice”. Elisabeth lets go, facing Bruce.

"Your mind is made up of a complex construct of overlays". Vision is silent. “J.A.R.V.I.S., Ultron, Tony, me, the Stone. All of them mixed together. All of them learning from one another”.

“You’re saying Vision isn’t just the stone?” Wanda asks.

"We are saying that if we take out the stone..." Elisabeth turns to Wanda, gesturing with her hands. “There’s still a whole lot of Vision left. Perhaps the best parts”.

"Can we do that?" Natasha asks, facing the two.

"Not us. Not here". Bruce replies, looking at Lisa, the two knew that alone, neither of them were capable of that nor they didn’t have none of the resource needed.

"You better find someone, and somewhere fast". Rhodes speaks quickly. "Ross isn’t exactly just gonna let you guys have your old rooms back”.

"I know somewhere". Steve concludes, giving everyone a smile.

 ☼

 "You alright? That was close". Tony lets go, helping Stephen pull himself together. They had controlled the ship to land on Titan, ready for a surprise attack on Thanos. "I owe you one".

"Let me say…” The two turned to Peter, who was hanging upside down on one of his webs. "If aliens wind up implanting eggs in my chest or something, and I eat one of you, I’m sorry”.

"I don’t wanna hear another single pop culture out of you for the rest of the trip. You understand?" Tony says quickly.

"I’m trying to say that… Something is coming". Peter concludes, making Stephen and Tony look at him crookedly without understanding, and that's when a bomb is dropped between the two adults, making the three fly with the impact.

"THANOS!"

 Everything happened very fast, the three attackers entered quickly where the ship had landed. Attacking without thinking twice, the same man who had screamed attacked Stranger, who quickly defended himself with magic, and then immediately sent his cloak to disable him. Tony fought with another man, who were wearing what appeared to be boots with thrusters, two guns in his hands and a strange mask, in a blow to fight back, the attacker attached a magnetic device to his armor, causing it to be pulled onto the beam of nearest metal. The first thing that Peter manages to focus his vision on, is a woman with antennae, which makes him move away as quickly as possible.

 "DON’T PUT YOUR EGGS ON ME!" He quickly gets up, throwing webs in her direction, holding it in place, then Peter is hit by the same man who fought Tony earlier.

"Stay down, clown". The man starts to shoot, making Peter move quickly upwards, trying to avoid the shots, the boy commands the armor to open the new feature, the four mechanical arms attached to his back, helping him move faster, an attempt who was thwarted by the man, who threw a device towards him, who dispersed itself on two electric cords that he tied around his waist, stopping him.

"Die, blanket of death!" Tony quickly detached himself from the beam and put his foot on the attacker's chest that had been trapped by Stranger's cloak, he now looked at Tony, while he pointed one hand at him, ready to shoot.

"Alright, everybody, stay where you are…" The man who arrested Tony on the beam screams was holding Peter hostage, aiming the gun at his head. "Chill the F out". Strange had a spell ready, and hoped he didn't have to use it, the man holding Peter tightens something on his helmet, revealing his face, his weapon turns to Tony. "I'm gonna ask you this one time. Where's Gamora?"

"Yeah, I’ll do you one better”. Tony's helmet retracts showing his face, while he aims at the fallen man and the man who had Peter. "Who’s Gamora?"

"I’ll do you one better". The man on the floor says. "Why is Gamora?"

"Tell me where the girl is, or I swear to you, I’m gonna Fench-fry this little freak". The other threatens again by pressing the gun further on Peter's head.

"Let’s do it!" Tony shapes a large nanotechnology weapon, aiming at his partner lying on the floor. “You shoot my guy, I blast him. LET’S GO!"

“Do it, Quill! I can take it". The man on the floor screams, revealing the name of the man aiming the gun at Parker.

"No, he can't take it!" The alien that Peter had webbed screams after Quill.

"She's right." Strange speaks. "You can’t ".

"Oh yeah? You don’t wanna tell me where she is?” Quill speaks again. "That’s fine. I’ll kill all three of you and beat it out of Thanos myself”. Quill turns his gaze to Peter, tightening his grip on the gun. "Starting with you".

“Wait, what. Thanos?” Stephen asks looking at Quill. “Alright, let me ask you this one time: What master do you serve?”

"What master do I serve?" Quill repeats looking confused. "What am I supposed to say? ‘Jesus’?” Tony takes a deep breath, looking at Strange, rolling his eyes as he turns to Quill.

"You’re from Earth?"

"I’m not from Earth, I'm from Missouri". Quill responds, staring at Stark.

"Yeah, that’s on Earth, dip-shit". Tony removes his foot from the man and returns his armor to normal. "What are you hassling us for?"

"So, you're not with Thanos?" Peter asks slowly.

"With Thanos?!" Quill repeats, facing Tony. “No, I’m here to kill Thanos! He took my girl-” Quill stops aiming the gun at Peter. "Wait, who are you?" Peter follows the example of the other two, and removes his helmet, revealing his face.

"We’re the Avengers, man". Quill takes his arm from Peter's neck, moving away.

"You’re the ones Thor told us about!" The woman speaks again, making Tony look at Quill.

"You know Thor?"

"Yeah. Tall guy, not that good-looking, needed saving”. Peter looks at Quill with a confused expression.

"Where is he now?" Strange asks.

"He went to a planet called Nidavellir, with two of our teammates". Quill speaks, approaching Tony and Stephen. "We split up, we went to Knowhere to retrieve the Reality Stone, but by the time we got there, Thanos had already taken it, well, the Reality one and two more".

"Excellent". Tony says quickly, starting to get out of the ship's rubble. "And who are you?"

"We are the Guardians". The woman speaks quickly, the other partner had helped her with Peter's webs, and soon everyone was outside.

"I am Quill, Star Lord, this is Mantis and Drax". Tony nods, Peter was beside him, and Strange was analyzing things. "We are a team, the Guardians of the Galaxy, Thanos took Gamora, and Rocket and Groot are with Thor."

"Tony, Peter and Strange". Tony speaks quickly, pointing to each one. Quill starts to fiddle with a device, and soon starts talking again.

"The heck happened to this planet?" Everyone was watching him. “It’s eight degrees off its axis. Gravitational pull is all over the place”.

"Yeah, we got one advantage." Tony approaches Quill, leaving Peter to watch Mantis, who randomly jumped where she was. "He’s coming to us". Tony turns to the others. “We’ll use it. Alright, I have a plan. Or at least the begginnings of one”. Quill turns to him. "It's pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need. Definitely don’t wanna dance with this guy. We just want the gauntlet”. Drax yawns, making Tony turn to him without patience. “Are you yawning? In the middle of this, while I’m breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?”

"I stopped listening after you said, we need a plan". Tony takes a deep breath, it seemed that the three were seven times more difficult than his daughter.

"Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page". Tony turns to Quill.

“See, ‘not winging it’ isn’t really what they do”. Quill informs Tony and Peter.

"Uh, what exactly is it that they do?" Parker asks, looking at Quill.

"Kick names, take ass". Mantis replies.

"Yeah, that's right". Drax agrees, making Tony roll his eyes in silence, thinking about what they have in hand.

"Alright, just get over here, please". Quill looks at Tony confused. "Mr. Lord, can you get your folks to circle up?"

"‘Mr. Lord’. Star Lord is fine”. With a quick nod, Drax and Mantis join the three at the circle.

"We gotta coalesce". Tony crosses his arms. "‘Cause if all we come at him with is a plucky attitude…”

"Dude, don't call us plucky". Quill speaks, rolling his eyes. “We don't know what it means. Alright, we’re optimistic, yes. I liked your plan. Except it sucks, so let me do the plan, and that way it might be really good”.

“Tell him about the dance-off to save the universe”. Drax says, making Tony take a deep breath, where had they gone?

"What dance-off?" Tony asks.

"It’s not a… It’s not… It’s nothing". Quill responds quickly.

"Like the Footloose, the movie?" Peter asks, making Quill smile.

"Exactly like Footloose". Parker looks at him confused. "Is it still the greatest movie in history?"

"It never was". Peter responds quickly, getting quiet again.

"Don’t encourage this, alright?" Tony tells Peter, who quickly agrees. "We’re getting no help from Flash Gordon here". Tony approaches Peter, standing beside him.

“Flash Gordon? By the way, that’s a compliment". The two turn to Quill, who was approaching them. "Don't forget, I'm half human. So that 50% of me that’s stupid..." Tony nods. "That’s 100% you".

"Your math is blowing my mind". Tony comments, turning his gaze to the floor.

"Excuse me, but…" Mantis says softly, making everyone look at her, and consequently at Strange. "Does your friend often do that?" Tony looks nervously in his direction, the man was doing something with the Time Stone, but it didn't seem to be doing him any good, his head was moving all over the place and the man was floating, definitely not normal.

"Strange, we alright?" He didn't seem to hear, so Tony approached slowly, and soon the man woke up from what he was doing, falling to the ground, Tony holding the same, who was breathing quickly. "You’re back". The others approached the two with concerned looks. "You’re alright".

"Hey, what was that?" Peter asks nervously.

"I went forward in time to view alternative futures." Strange was speaking with difficulty, still trying to breathe properly. "To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict".

"How many did you see?" Quill asks.

"14,000,605".

"How many did we win?" Tony asks worriedly.

"One".

 ☼

           When the Quinjet landed in Wakanda, Elisabeth didn’t know what to expect. Steve and Natasha left first, and it was possible to see that the new king of Wakanda was already there and accompanied by some of his soldiers. She never imagined that she would visit Wakanda, and if she ever did, it would be under better circumstances. Lisa was walking beside Rhodes and Banner, and she could hear when the scientist asked if they should bow, she could practically hear the smile when Rhodey said they should, because T’Challa was a king.

 "Seems like I'm always thanking you for something." Steve speaks looking at the king, who just smiles, shaking his hand, is when Bruce starts to kneel, earning him a disapproving look.

"What are you doing?" Elisabeth whispers as she joins Rhodes, who keeps a smile on his face.

"Uh, we don't do that here”. Bruce gives an embarrassed smile, exchanging looks with his partner beside him. "So how big of an assault can we expect?" T’Challa speaks, starting to walk with the other Wakandians, being followed by the team.

"Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault". Banner speaks, approaching Rogers, who just looks at him with a weak smile, Bruce was gone for two years, but it seemed that he had never lived on Earth, lost all customs from there.

"How we looking?" Natasha asks, looking at the girl who was in the middle of Steve and her.

"You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and..." Elisabeth's eyes followed Wanda and Vision being guided by two guards, but she soon gained something new to look at, coming towards the group, James Barnes approached with a smile.

"A semi-stable, 100-year-old man". Steve smiles widely, hugging his friend.

"How you been, Bucky?"

"Uh, not bad, for the end of the world". Bucky responds, and then T’Challa guides them to where Vision had been taken for analysis, that’s where the team met Shuri, the king’s sister. Bruce and Elisabeth offered to help her, since Bruce had helped with the creation of Vision, and Elisabeth read just about everything her father had about him, and the knowledge needed to be able to help. Banner was impressed with how smart the girl got with each passing day, he couldn't wait any less, the girl was a Stark.

"Whoa, the structure is polymorphic". Shuri says after evaluating the structure of the Stone.

"Right, we had to attach each neuron non-sequentially". Bruce informs, receiving a curious look from Shuri.

"Why didn't you just reprogram the synapses to work collectively?" Vision looks at Bruce curiously, Banner just looks at her without knowing what to say and takes a deep breath.

"Because… We didn’t think of it"

"I’m sure you did your best". Shuri says with a huge smile on his face, eliciting a weak laugh from Elisabeth.

"Can you do it?" Wanda asks.

"Yes, but there are more than two trillion neurons here”. Shuri stares at the three near the table, looking back at Vision. "One misalignment could cause a cascade of circuit failures". She looks back at the king. "It will take time, brother".

"How long?" Steve asks, they didn't know how much time they would have for this to work, they didn't know how long they would have before Thanos attacked again, they needed to do it right.

"As long as you can give me". Suddenly, the technology on Okoye's wrist starts to fire, indicating that something was not right around Wakanda.

"Something’s entered the atmosphere." Elisabeth joins the others, approaching the window of the room, seeing what had entered, several ships falling around the land of Wakanda, they didn’t have much time.

"It's too late". Vision speaks, having difficulty sitting. "We need to destroy the stone now".

"Vision, get your ass back to the table". Natasha speaks, leaving the room.

"We will hold them off". T'Challa speaks, starting to walk around the room, being followed by the guards, Steve turns his gaze to Wanda, taking a deep breath.

"Wanda, as soon as that stone’s out of his head... You blow it to hell".

"I will".

“Evacuate the city. Engage all defenses procedures”. The king turns to Steve. "And get this man a shield." Everyone started to leave the room, except for the one who would be responsible for the stone, Stark and Banner.

"Your green friend isn’t going to join the battle, is he?" Banner shakes his head. "Maybe he doesn't have to..." Bruce looks at her confused, and Lisa instructs him to follow her. Elisabeth quickly informs her what she needed to do for the king, and it gives her enough space to call for the armor she needed.

 The Veronica suit was worn when the Hulk lost control during one of Ultron's attacks, and it was time for her to be used again. Elisabeth quickly accessed the satellites, and waited for the King of Wakanda's cue, where he would allow a piece of the dome to open up for the armor to pass, and it would be in this way that Bruce Banner would join the battle, not with the Hulk, but with a Hulkbuster.

☼

 "Oh, yeah". Strange says when he sees Thanos leaving the portal created by the Space Stone, the plan was set, ambush Thanos and take his gauntlet out, and Strange would follow the plan, making the enemy think that only he would face him. "You’re much more of a Thanos."

"I take it the Maw is dead". Thanos replies, noting that his partner wasn’t there with the stone, but rather, the stone keeper himself, who just nods. "This day extracts a heavy toll. Still, he accomplished his mission". Thanos starts to approach the stairs that Strange was sitting on.

"You may regret that". Stephen warns. “He brought you face-to-face with the Master of Mystic Arts”.

"And where do you think he brought you?" Thanos continues to approach.

"Let me guess. Your home?" Thanos stops at the beginning of the stairs.

"It was". With a quick movement, his hand closes, and the Reality Gem begins to shine, and soon all around him is transformed, showing what that planet once was. “And it was beautiful. Titan was like most planets. Too many mouths, and not enough food to go around. And when we faced extinction, I offered a solution”.

"Genocide". Strange completes, watching Thanos' expressions.

“But at random, dispassionate, fair to rich and poor alike”. Thanos turns his gaze to Doctor Strange. “They called me a madman. And what I predicted came to pass”. He stops using the Reality Stone, showing the destroyed planet.

"Congratulations. You’re a prophet".

"I’m a survivor".

"Who wants to murder trillions".

"With all six stones, I could simply snap my fingers…" With his free hand, Thanos snaps his fingers, demonstrating how easy it would be. “And they would all cease to exist. I call that mercy”.

"And then what?" Strange gets up, starting to approach.

"I finally rest..." Thanos takes a deep breath. “And watch the sun rise on a grateful universe. The hardest choices require strongest wills”.

"I think you’ll find our will equal to yours." Strange moves his hands quickly, summoning his Mandalas, preparing for the fight.

"Ours?" Thanos looks up, seeing the piece of stone that was coming at high speed towards him, with a quick movement, he closes the hand of the gauntlet, using the Power Stone to defend himself.

"Piece of cake, Quill". Tony speaks, dropping the stone and passing the Starlord, who just rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, if your goal was to piss him off."

 Quill activates his helmet, starting to fly. Thanos soon breaks the stone dropped on himself, and the team could see when the purple stone on the gauntlet stopped glowing and the red one took over, causing the stone's debris to turn into bats and attack Stark. Peter throws a web under Thanos eyes, and quickly kicks him, while Drax stabs one of his legs, and soon starts attacking his upper part, followed by Strange, who emerged from a portal.

With difficulty, Thanos throws Drax away, holding the sword created by Strange. He finally takes the web out of his eyes, staring at Strange, in a quick stroke, he breaks the spell of the sword, and kicks Strange away, which resists the blow, and already does another spell to fight back. An attack from behind made by Quill, hits Thanos back, who tries to fight back, but fails because Star Lord and Doctor Strange coordinate an attack together, which results in Quill depositing a shock bomb on Thanos back, which disoriented by the shock suffered. Strange quickly opens a portal and Quill leaps out of it.

 "Do not let him close his fist". Strange orders to his cloak, which quickly grips the hand with the gauntlet, leaving Thanos trying to get it out of his fist.

"Magic!" A new portal opens behind Thanos, and Peter passes him by punching him in the face, and then entering another portal. "More magic!” Again, and Thanos seemed to be paying attention to the coordinated attack. "Magic with a kick!" Peter yells through another portal. "Magic with a--" Thanos let himself be hit one last time, and when the portal opened again, he grabbed Peter by the neck, hitting the boy on the floor.

"Insect!”

 With a quick move, he throws Peter against Strange, knocking them both down, and that's when he finally rips the cloak off his wrist, only to be met with an Iron Man missile attack. Thanos closes his hand, using the Space and Power Stones, to suck the energy from the explosions and turn them against Tony, who is hit and thrown away. Peter hits the gauntlet with a web, pulling his fist down, Thanos soon breaks the web, tearing what is left of the gauntlet, without being able to attack back, a small ship is thrown against Thanos, revealing a new fighter.

 "Well, well". Thanos lets go, staring at the woman he knew very well.

"You should have killed me!"

"It would’ve been a waste of parts!" The woman follows a series of attacks, which didn’t appear to affect Thanos.

"Where's Gamora?!"

 With a kick, Thanos tosses it away, being met by another attack by Strange, several magical threads trying to pull the gauntlet, something Thanos tried to loosen with his other hand, but was kicked in the leg by Drax, even so, he reacted to that, and started pulling the magic threads, pulling Strange close. Quill used a device to pull Thanos hand, making him unable to pull anymore, while Peter held him with one of his webs.

Tony takes the place of the wires, and begins to pull the gauntlet, under Thanos head, Strange opens a portal, through which Mantis passes and sits with his legs around Thanos neck, quickly placing his hands on his head. From there, everyone collaborated to hold Thanos. Mantis held him still, controlling his mind, while Drax held his legs, Peter and Strange his other hand and Tony was still trying to pull the gauntlet off.

 "Is he under? Don’t let up" Tony says, analyzing the situation.

"Be quick. He is very strong". Mantis informs with difficulty, Tony takes a deep breath, looking at Peter.

“Parker, help! Get over here". Peter quickly runs to his side, holding the gauntlet. “She can't hold him much longer. Let's go!" The two begin to pull, while Quill lands in front of everyone.

"You need to open your fingers to take it out." Peter speaks by pulling hard on the gauntlet.

"I thought you’d be harder to catch." Quill looks at Stark. “For the record, this is my plan”. Quill looks back at Thanos, approaching. “Not so strong now, huh? Where's Gamora?”

"My Gamora…?" Thanos speaks with difficulty, as if he is in pain.

"No, bull-shit". Quill speaks quickly, facing the other angrily. "Where is she?"

"He is in anguish." Mantis informs.

"Good". Quill speaks, facing Thanos, but Mantis' expression changes.

"He… He mourns”.

"What does this monster have to mourn?" Drax asks.

"Gamora". The woman who had joined the fight later says, she was standing behind Quill, and looking at Thanos angrily.

"What?" Quill turns to the woman, taking a deep breath.

"He took her to Vormir”. The woman speaks slowly. "He came back with the Soul Stone, but she didn't."

"Okay, Quill..." Tony retracts his helmet, looking directly at the man, everyone there seems to understand, and all they didn't need was to miss this opportunity. “You gotta cool it right now, you understand?" Quill seems to ignore the same, turning his gaze to Thanos. "Don’t, don’t engage, we’ve almost got this off!” Tony screams, seeing that it would be useless to keep trying to talk, then pull the handle back with all the strength he has.

"TELL ME SHE’S LYING!" Quill screams. “Asshole! Tell me you didn't do that!”

"I… had… to". Thanos speaks with difficulty, making Quill take a deep breath.

"No, you didn't." Quill speaks slowly. "No, you didn't." He repeats again, before placing a punch in Thanos's face, moving the structure they had set up to hold him. "NO, YOU DIDN'T!" He punches one more, feeling the anger seep through his body, and before he can deliver more, Tony takes his hand, holding him back.

"QUILL!" His helmet comes back, and he looks at Quill, holding the man. “Hey, stop! STOP!"

“It's coming! I got it!" Peter announces, but before he can take it out, Thanos awakens, headbutting Mantis, and pulling the gauntlet back on quickly, he holds one of Mantis' legs and throws it away. "Oh, God..." Before jumping quickly and holding her against his body, using the mechanical arms to fall to the floor without getting hurt.

 Thanos kicks Drax forward, hitting Quill and the woman. He pulls the wire that Strange was holding, throwing it away too, Tony tries to attack him, but Thanos retaliates with a punch, pushing him away. Quill, Drax and the woman start to get up and run, but using the Power Stone, Thanos knocks them down again. Tony molds one of his armor's arms into a giant sword, and tries to attack again, which doesn't seem to affect the man, who just defends himself and throws Tony away again.

From where Tony lands, he could see Thanos wearing another of the Stones, to pull a moon from the sky, he tries to fly when he sees the huge stone approaching, but he cannot escape and ends up trapped under it. The other pieces of the moon still fell under Titan, and Peter swung from web to web saving the companions from the remnants of the moon, with the impact of the larger stone, all who were temporarily fallen flew away.

 "I got you, and you!" Peter tried to remain calm, he knew the plan had gone wrong, and he feared what would happen next, but he tried to remain calm, he needed to make sure that everyone was well and safe from the rest of Thanos's attack. "Sorry I can’t remember anybody's name!"

 While Peter was sure he had saved everyone and placed them close to where he had left Mantis, he could see Strange fighting Thanos, all of Doctor Strange's movements were precisely calculated, and Thanos didn't seem to be affected by any of that, just dodged and remained trying to attack. Peter continued to follow their struggle and saw Strange perform a doubling spell. Thanos didn't seem to be affected, he just wore a combination of Jewels and found the real one, eliminating the copies, using the stones again he pulled Strange close to him, holding his neck.

 "You’re full of tricks, wizard." Peter sees Thanos pulling Strange's eye necklace, seeing him despair. "Yet you never once used greatest weapon”. Peter approached, watching Thanos crush the necklace. "A fake". Thanos tosses Strange away, and Parker was about to act when he saw a part of Tony's armor cling to the gauntlet's hand, preventing him from closing his hand again.

"You throw another moon at me..." Tony says after landing near Thanos. "And I'm going to lose it."

"Stark".

"You know me?" Tony asks nervously, the man in front of him was his nightmare for years, and he was finally face-to-face with him.

"I do". Thanos says calm. "You’re not the only one cursed with knowledge".

"My only curse is you."

 Peter sees Tony resume the attack, and although it started well, it didn’t end gloriously for Tony. He managed to fight back in the best way he could, and even managed to make a bleeding wound on Thanos, something that the man mocked Tony for having managed to do, the fight continued, and it was Thanos's turn to fight back, which ended up with Stark being stabbed with a piece of his own armor.

 "You have my respect, Stark". Thanos says, holding Tony's head, who held the spot where the armor was tucked. "When I'm done, half of humanity will still be alive." Thanos releases his head, moving away. "I hope they remember you." Without saying anything else, Thanos closes his hand, ready to use the four Jewels.

"Stop!" Strange speaks, drawing Thanos's attention. "Spare his life..." Tony turns his gaze to Stephen, not believing what he heard. "And I will give you the stone."

"No tricks". Stephen nods in agreement, and Thanos changes the target of the stones, ready to end Strange if he were lying.

"Don’t". Tony speaks with difficulty, something that Strange ignores, since he reveals the stone with his hands and hands it to Thanos, seeing the same quickly put it on the gauntlet.

"Only one to go". Quill last tried to attack Thanos, but he creates a portal with the Space Stone and disappears from there. Leaving everyone there, aimlessly.

"Did we lose?" Quill asks, taking a deep breath, Tony uses a last resort of the armor, to stop the blood from his abdomen.

"Why would you do that?" Tony asks, staring at Strange.

"We’re in the Endgame now."

 ☼

           Things weren’t going well, not even far. Elisabeth fought with everything she had, she had already fallen and stood up several times, and that didn't seem to be enough for her. She saw when Thor and two other partners joined the battle, and she saw when Wanda started to fight too, she saw Vision being attacked and heard Banner's call about Vision. She flew as fast as she could, and saw Bruce pull the largest of the ‘Children of Thanos' away from the Vision, leaving the other, she tried to defend Vision, fought the alien, and was thrown away after delivering a few blows, the alien didn't seem affected and just attacked Vision once again.

 "I thought you were formidable, machine". Elisabeth gets up, checking the damage to the armor, there were many, but she couldn't think about it now. "But you’re dying, like any man". She ran towards the alien, pushing him away from Vision, who just stayed on the ground, trying to recover from another blow, so she saw Steve running towards her, making a coordinated attack with her.

"GET OUTTTA HERE!" Steve yells towards the Vision, who just looks at him taking a deep breath. "GO!"

 The attack of the two continued, until the alien threw Steve away, and Elisabeth was left alone to fight, which didn’t end very well, since he hit a part of her leg, causing her to fall, and the alien grab her neck with his hand. Steve tried to focus his eyes on her, and help Elisabeth, but it wasn’t necessary when he saw Vision with the enemy's spear attack the alien, taking him off Lisa and finally killing him. Vision was weak, so as soon as the attack ended, he fell to his knees next to Elisabeth, who was trying to recover her breath, Steve ran close to the two, helping Vision to get up.

 "I thought I told you to go." Steve says looking at him, that he just smiles weakly and replies.

"We don't trade lives, Captain." Elisabeth remained with Vision until Wanda arrived, when the woman ran close to him, Lisa got up and went towards Steve.

"How are things going for the others?" She asks worriedly, her helmet retracts with the rest of the suit and Steve can see her tired face, her blond hair was stuck in a bun made at the last minute, and her face had several bleeding bruises, he couldn't even imagine how the rest of her body was, it was not the place he wanted her to be, and he couldn’t think how much Tony wouldn't want her to be there too.

"Everyone is holding on as they can." Elisabeth nods, taking a deep breath. "Are you okay?" Before she could respond, Vision let out an agonized cry of pain, causing the two to turn to Wanda and Vision.

"What?" Wanda asks. "What is it?"

"He’s here". Stark turns his gaze to Steve, putting her suit back on and standing next to him, Rogers puts his hand on the communicator to his ear and starts talking.

"Everyone, on my position". If what Vision said was right, Thanos had finally arrived, and none of them were in any shape to face him alone. "We have incoming". Everyone approached quickly, and watched the blue-colored portal open, and a large man emerged from it.

"Cap". Bruce says softly. "That’s him".

"Eyes up." Captain pulls his shield, starting to walk towards Thanos. "Stay sharp".

 Elisabeth saw when Bruce tried to attack him, and all Thanos had to do was use one of the stones and pin the man into a wall. She saw him use another stone to send Steve away, she saw him take down T’Challa and she saw him turn Sam’s wings into nothing. She tried to attack him too, but like the others, she couldn't even get close, her body was tired, and she had bruises over most of her body, her heart was pounding, and she felt like everyone had failed.

All that was left of everyone there was to see Wanda fight. Watching her kill the love of her life and at the same time preventing Thanos from getting close, she fought, and fought and in the end, the Mind Stone was destroyed, as was Vision, who was now dead. Elisabeth tried to get up, like the others, Thanos approached Wanda and the corpse of Vision, and started talking to the woman.

 "I understand, my child". Wanda looked at Vision, she cried, and she didn't have the strength to fight him again. "Better than anyone".

"You could never." From where Elisabeth was, she could see Thanos put his hand on Wanda's head, and take a deep breath.

"Today, I lost more than you can know". He gets up looking at the Vision. "But now is no time to mourn". He starts to get closer. "Now, is no time at all." Unable to react, Thanos uses one of the stones, and as if by magic, Vision who had died within seconds, was alive now.

"NO!"

 Wanda tries to attack him, but he just throws her away, pulling Vision by the neck, he pulls the jewel off his head, and throws it to the side as if it is nothing. And finally, he has the last stone, Elisabeth looks desperately towards Steve, who seemed mesmerized by what had just happened, thunder strikes Thanos, and Thor announces his arrival to the titan, throwing his axe in his direction, hitting his chest. Thor approaches, holding his head.

 "I told you..." He holds the ax head. "You’d die for that!" With that Thor squeezes the axe across his chest, making Thanos scream.

"You should have..." Thanos starts with difficulty. "You should have gone for the head." Thor looked at him confused, but soon realized what he meant, quickly Thanos snapped his fingers with the gauntlet, making Thor scream. The stones shone brightly, and when Thor finally saw it, the gauntlet was destroyed, burned, as was Thanos's arm.

"What’d you do?" Thor asks, looking at Thanos. "WHAT’D YOU DO?" Without saying anything else, Thanos uses the stones as a way to escape Thor’s grip.

"Where’d he go?" Steve asks approaching Thor. "Thor?" Steve catches your eye. "Where’d he go?"

"Steve?" Rogers quickly turns to the source of the voice, Bucky approached him, but something was wrong, his body were disappearing, as if he were disintegrating, his legs disappeared causing him to fall to the ground, but before his body hit the ground, he had turned to dust, gone. Steve approaches, playing in the same place where Bucky disappeared, he exchanges glances with Thor, who seemed shaken and without understanding.

 Soon, many around Wakanda started to disappear. Warriors who fought against Thanos's army had the same fate as Bucky, Thanos got what he wanted, it was happening all over the world, half of humanity erased. Steve took a deep breath, and watched one by one, his partners disappear, T’Challa disappeared right after, the tree that came with Thor, Groot, Wanda, Sam, and finally, the girl he considered as a daughter, Elisabeth.

She felt nothing, it seemed that her body was no longer in her control. She remembers looking at Steve with a weak smile, before feeling her legs gone and fall to the ground, Steve ran towards him, being followed by Thor, he hugged her, and assured her that things would be fine, that she would be fine. He will never forget her last words, "Tell Dad and Peter that I'm sorry". And as if it were nothing, they were left there, the survivors of Thanos's snap.

 ☼

           On Titan, Peter helped Tony to his feet. They had lost the fight, lost everything, nothing could fix things now, Strange assured them that was the only way to fix things, Tony didn't think so. All Tony thought about was taking Peter home, he wanted to go home, meet Pepper and Elisabeth, have another normal day with them, it was all he wanted, but things were not going as planned.

 "Something's happening." Mantis says, and then, her body begins to disintegrate, the woman disappears, and all that is left of her is ashes, dust. They turned to Drax, and the same thing was happening to him.

"Quill?" Quill turns to Tony, and somehow, Stark knew, it was happening to him too.

"Steady, Quill".

"Aw, man". It was Quill's last words, before the same thing happened to him.

"Tony". Stark turns to Stephen, who is sitting on the floor, and looks at him seriously. "There was no other way". And then the same thing happens to him, Tony takes a deep breath, it couldn't be happening.

"Mr. Stark?" And Tony realized, the fear on Peter's face, realized that it was happening to him too. "I don't feel so good…"

"You’re all right?” Tony says calmly, and Peter quickly approaches him.

"I don’t know what’s-- I don't know what’s happening…” Peter stumbles, and Tony quickly takes him in his arms, Parker was crying, and Tony didn't know what to do. "I don’t wanna go. I don't wanna go, Mr. Stark, please". Peter kept repeating this, and Tony bent down with the boy in his arms, not knowing what to say or do, Tony laid him on the floor, and Peter looked at him. "She was right, I should’ve stayed on the bus..." Tony didn't understand at the time, but he tried to smile, tried to make sure everything was fine, even though in the end, he knew he wasn't. "I'm sorry..." Those were Peter's last words, Tony hoped it would happen to him too, it was the only fair thing to happen, but he didn't disappear, neither he nor the woman, the two survived it, and Tony wished he hadn't.

Add yourself on the tag list

[icefire149]

Happy Birthday Dean Winchester!!! 

I wanted to write a little something and this ended up spiraling into something longer than I planned.  (2,231 words) (Also please forgive me for any spelling errors. It’s after 3am) Enjoy!~

/////

For Dean, the weeks and months following Chuck’s defeat went by in a dizzying, unrecognizable blur. Despite Sam and Eileen’s best efforts to take care of Dean, he spent the majority of his time buried deep in the bunker’s archive. A lot of the time Jack is with him.

There was an ache in his chest that feared what stupid things he might have done by now if the kid wasn’t right there. Helping him. Talking to him. Actually getting to bond with him without Chuck’s interference. It was the one good thing in this fucked up situation right now.

So far their search for anything about the Empty was a disaster. There was virtually nothing. More and more often Jack would apologize. With his new position as God, yes, he could make a doorway into the Empty. That much they did know for a fact. But could he put them to sleep? Could he kill them? What would be the consequences of that?

The only other thing that they knew for certain was that the Empty could claw their way into Heaven and tear it all down. That was the only thing that was keeping Jack from snapping his fingers and restoring Cas right then and there.

It was tearing them both apart, but regardless, they continued their search.

Today, Dean opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. It was his birthday. Most years he spent it like any other normal day, but this one….after the Mrs. Butters incident…Sam and him had decided they should be throwing real celebrations. It was one thing when they were living out of motel rooms and the impala. It was completely understandable. But now they have a permanent home. So why not?

He knew now why not…..there was no point in celebrating a man that’s only half here.

Dean closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep the day away. He didn’t realize that he had fallen back asleep until he was startled awake by a pounding on his bedroom door. He shot up to a sitting position in bed, chest pounding and eyes wide with fear. It was a moment before he realized that he was in his room and not….

“Hey Dean? You up yet?”

His heart rate was still slowing, but he recognized the voice. Sam.

“I’m awake now. What’d you want?”

“Lunch is ready. I figured you’d wanna eat by now.”

“Fine. Be up soon.”

When Dean was dressed and ready as he would ever be, he opened his bedroom door. He stood there blinking in confusion for several moments. There were balloons tied to the doors of every room down the hallway.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he followed the balloons into the kitchen where the party decorations looked like they threw up. There was a happy birthday banner over the kitchen doorway and balloons….so many goddamn balloons everywhere.

“Surprise!” Jack popped up out of his chair and crossed the kitchen to hug him. “Sam let me decorate for your birthday. He told me I had to contain it to one room though.”

Jack took a step back with a look of concern. “Is that okay?”

“What about the hallway?”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. “A hallway by definition isn’t a room.”

That set Dean off in a fit of belly deep laughter. He slapped a reassuring hand onto Jack’s shoulder. “You did awesome kid.”

Jack’s mouth pulled into a beaming smile. He went back to where he was sitting, and Sam came into the kitchen.

“Good. I didn’t think you were ever getting up.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Good to see your face too, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes and started pulling plates out. Dean went and sat by Jack.

“So what’s for lunch? I’m not seeing anything.”

Sam brought the plates over. “Well, you slept through the pancakes Jack helped me make this morning. Eileen should be here any minute with lunch.”

Dean shot Jack a look. “Sorry kid.”

“It’s okay. They were really good.”

“What’s Eileen bringing?” Dean turned his attention to Sam, but before he could answer Eileen came walking through the door.

“I hope everyone’s hungry.” She placed a stack of three white boxes on the table.

The familiar bakery smell hit him instantly. He pointed at the boxes. “Is that?”

Eileen grinned and crossed her arms. “Sam told me you liked pie.”

“Thank you, you majestic, wonderful being.” He turned his gaze to Sam. “You better marry her.”

That got Eileen laughing while Sam ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed.

Dean grinned and made eye contact with Eileen. “I’m so sorry, I know you can do so much better than Sam too.”

She laughed again, and then her mouth curled into a teasing smile. “I know, Dean. I know.”

“OKAY.” Sam clapped his hands together. “Can we move on from the embarrassing Sam portion of today?”

They eventually did. For a long time the three of them sat in the kitchen laughing, telling stories, and eating way too much pie. At one point Sam handed a big gift bag to Dean.

“It’s…from Jack and I.” Sam sounded unsure.

“I hope you like it,” Jack added.

Dean opened it to find several wrapped in tissue paper objects. Soon enough he found out that they were all various framed pictures. Silently, he spread them all out over the table so he could stare at them all.

There were pictures going back a decade. Easily. There were so many smiles and glares and candid shots. Fuck they were all so young looking.

Charlie in her Queen of Moondoor costume. Mom with a bowl of popcorn. Kevin and Sam asleep surrounded by piles of books. Claire on her 18th birthday with the ugly stuffed cat doll. Rowena moments before she hexed the camera. Jack looking amazed at the giant multi-scoop ice cream cone Dean bought him against Sam’s wishes. Kevin and Linda at Garth’s safe-houseboat. Dean, Sam, and Bobby at one of the cabins fishing. The hectic attempt at a family photo from Jody’s. Garth and his family. And Cas…..there were so many just of Cas or ones with him present or ones of just the two of them.

Sam coughed awkwardly. “I know you’ve been saying for a couple years now that you wanted to start printing some of the pictures we’ve been dumping onto one of the old laptops. So I thought….”

“Thank you, Sammy.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pictures. Especially the candid he’d never seen before. It was of him and Cas leaning against the side of the impala, completely lost in their own bubble of conversation. Dean felt like there was a cinder block dropped into his stomach. “You did good.”

And he meant it. Still, it hurt to remember everyone he lost.

“Oh, I think you missed one,” Jack said poking at the bag.

He was right, Dean realized when he reached a hand in and pulled out a smaller wrapped frame.

Sam laughed. “I forgot about that one.”

Dean opened it and burst into uncontrollable laughter. It was a picture from his mark of cain days of him and Crowley in matching cowboy hats. As much as he didn’t want to remember those days, he still couldn’t bring himself to delete the picture. “I miss that dumb son of a bitch.”

“Hey!” Sam chimed in. “That’s insulting to Rowena.”

That had Dean laughing again. “Well, she can take a number kicking my ass. You know the moment Cas sees this he’s gonna use it and me as his personal dartboard.”

The words slipped out before he could even process it. Sam’s smile faded. Dean’s laughter turned into crying. No one said anything while Dean fought to compose himself. He was grateful for that.

When Dean’s face was dry and he dared lift his head up, Jack asked him about the people in the photos.  And that’s how they spent the rest of the afternoon. It was hard to imagine his life without Jack being present somewhere so he was happy to indulge the technically toddler in what the people in the pictures were like. All the stories Dean could pull from his memory. It hurt initially, but after a while he felt lighter.

Later that day Dean was taking a break in his room when Sam peeked in the ajar door. “What’d you need, Sam?”

“I-uh…” He stepped into the room. A neatly wrapped in green box with a card on top was in his hands. “I have one last thing to give you.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but isn’t another present going overboard? What gives?”

“It’s not from me.”

“Oh. Hand it here then.” Excited, Dean sat on the edge of his bed and held his hands out.

Sam stepped forward, but he didn’t hand the box over. “It’s from Cas.”

Dean’s hands fell down, and Sam was happy he waited. “What’s in the box?”

Sam placed it on the bed next to Dean. He shrugged. “I don’t know. He asked me quite a while ago to hang onto it.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I figure he thought you’d be least likely to find it if it was in my room.”

Dean cracked a small smile at that. His chest felt like it split open just to ache again. He knew why Cas asked Sam to hold onto it. “Thanks Sammy.”

Sam left the room, closing the door behind him. It took a while before Dean could muster up the courage to open the card.

His hands shook as he pulled the folded over pieces of paper out of the envelope. Turns out instead of a generic store bought card, Cas wrote him a letter. It was a bittersweet sight. Despite how devastated he normally felt whenever he thought about Cas, he was good seeing his handwriting. In his hands was actually a new message from Cas. A message from Cas to him!

Happy Birthday Dean,

If you’re reading this then that means I failed. I wanted to burn this letter to ashes, but clearly I’m not there to do that. I’m so sorry, truly. I’m not sure what could have happened to bring us here, but I need to confess something important. I know you said no more deals when Jack died, but I still made a deal with the Empty anyways.

When I went to Heaven to bring Jack’s soul back to his body things didn’t go as planned. The Empty was furious Jack’s human half sent him to Heaven. It tore through Heaven like it was tissue paper. I did what I had to for Jack, and for Heaven. My life for his.

I don’t regret it. But the Empty did promise not to claim me until I gave myself permission to be truly happy. I’m still trying to puzzle out exactly what that could be. My family on Earth: Sam, Jack, and you - make me happy each and every day. I need you to remember that.

Please be safe and live a happy life. You are so loved by your friends and family. They need you for the next several decades. I mean it Dean. (I may have been curing you of liver and heart disease every year on your birthday. Well fixing to the best of my abilities the damage you keep causing on those poor organs.)

I hope you enjoy the present I picked out. Quite honestly, I got it because it made me laugh.

I miss you.

Castiel

Dean felt like a tangled mess of emotions. He needed to remember to breathe. Minutes later he carefully tore open the green wrapping paper. Curiosity poked at him. With Cas’ odd sense of humor, it could have been anything in the box.

Under the wrapping paper was a generic cardboard box, but inside were a handful of new cassette tapes. Dean fell over to be laying on his side. Laughing happily for quite a while, he studied each and every tape. They were all cassettes of modern music, specifically the pop artists Cas loved so much. The ones Dean used to tease Cas about while they’d be out on long drives.

He immediately knew which memory Cas was thinking of when he planned this. Dean remembered they were in the impala and Cas wasn’t in the mood for any of Dean’s old tapes. He teased that anything that came out after cassette tapes wasn’t real music. And only real music got to play in the impala.

Closing his eyes, Dean could picture the smug look Cas would be wearing right now. Tears started bubbling free from his eyelids. God he missed Cas with every ounce of his being.

A while later Dean got up and left his room, taking the tapes with him. He went for a long drive circling the neighboring towns while he worked through several of the tapes. If he relaxed enough, he could almost imagine Cas sitting in the front seat next to him, mumbling along to the lyrics of the songs he liked most.

Dean vowed that this time next year things would be different. He was owed a birthday wish and this was it: next year he’d be somewhere warm with his toes buried in the sand, and he’d have Sam, Eileen, Jack, and Cas with him.

[five-miles-over]

Types of People Watching the Film“Gladiator”, as told by “Gladiator” gifs

Disclaimer: As always, this is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone or make anyone feel bad. Please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Also, I do not own any of these images or gifs. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!

(Warning: spoilers for the movie ‘Gladiator’ are included.)

1. The Masquerader

This person is watching Gladiator because their friends are either ancient history buffs or ardent lovers of this film. Either way, the Masquerader is just watching this film in order to fit in with their peers. Maybe they think the film will help them know more about Ancient Rome- which it won’t, for the most part - or it’ll give them something to contribute when their friends talk about Ridley Scott and his film-making genius.

All I can say to this person is, I hope you’re a better actor than Russell Crowe when you’re trying to have a conversation in public.

2. The Veteran

If you’re this person, you’ve probably seen Gladiator at least twice, and it probably holds a special connection for you. Maybe it reminds you of a loved one you watched the film with, or maybe it was when you had your first crush (fictional or celebrity). 

When you watch this film, you feel like you’re coming back to a familiar world with people you think you know quite well. At this point, you don’t watch Gladiator to be surprised by the special effects or action scenes. You watch Gladiator without the slightest faze and hope for a taste of nostalgia.

3. The History Snob

This person doesn’t necessarily have to have a degree in Ancient History or Classics or Mediterranean Studies, but they will be quick to point out the slightest historical error they find. Whether it’s Marcus Aurelius’s death, Emperor Commodus’s death, or even the portrayal of gladiatorial games, this person will make sure everyone around them knows what really should have been.

On a bad day, this person might go so far as to criticize the casting choice and costumes, saying that the hairstylist department should’ve bleached Commodus’s hair because historically, this emperor was blonde.

4. The Superfan

A celebrity crush is the reason you’re watching this film, be it Russell Crowe, Connie Nielsen, Joaquin Phoenix, Oliver Reed, or even Ridley Scott. Either way, Gladiator is one of the most famous films of this celebrity’s career and you’re watching it because you admire their work with all your heart.

Especially if you’re a Joaquin Phoenix fan, you get to pride yourself on being able to say you admired him before he became the Joker.

5. The Cinephile

When this person thinks of Gladiator, the first thing they think about is the film that brought back the genre of epic films. Or, maybe they remember this film as the Best Picture Winner of 2001. Or this is the film that Ridley Scott could never, ever replicate no matter how hard he tried (even with Russell Crowe).

This person, depending on how big of a snob they are, will either vocally praise or criticize the film’s production design, cinematography, or tone. Sometimes it’s amazing how much they know about the making of the film, and other times it’s annoying when all you want to do is just watch silently.

Personally, I enjoy having this person around because I enjoy learning about film production, but everyone has their own choice of company.

6. The One Who’s in Love

This person doesn’t just like their favorite character, this person legitimately believes that if their favorite character lived in real life, they would be dating them. And for this person, Gladiator is their way of connecting with their F/O outside of thinking about them in various situations.

To them, their favorite character is the “one”. They laugh with their favorite character, they sympathize with their favorite character, and certainly mourn for their death long after the film ends.

(If you’re me, that is your alibi if anyone asks why you’re crying so much when cutting onions.)

7. The Kink-ster

(Warning: reference to smut)

Honestly, this person could be watching literally any film, but if they find a character attractive or sexy, their brain comes to life immediately. Their mind is so dirty that you need an entire hazmat suit to enter, plus some holy water for afterward. This person is watching Gladiator for the fan service and has probably fantasized about doing unspeakable things to their character of choice. I’m talking swordplay, bloodplay, BDSM, spanking, bondage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, edging, lingerie, dirty talk, role-playing or daddy kinks

In all seriousness though, I actually think this person is super awesome because of their powerful imagination and confidence. (also because sometimes I am this person) So, have fun with your X-rated fantasies all you want to - no one’s judging you.

8. The Snoozer

You honestly don’t find Gladiator that great of a movie. “Why is it two-and-a-half hours long?” is probably your catchphrase and you doze off during the long but pivotal dialogues. The only reason you’re watching is because a) it was the only good thing on television or b)everyone around you is watching it. Most likely, you believe that the time for Hollywood epic films has truly passed since the mid-60s.

Hope you all enjoyed this fun little listicle! Let me know if you’ve ever known these types of people who’ve seen this iconic film.

Stay safe and I hope to bring some more content soon!!