#DO I CARE? NAW I AM EXPLODING SEEING THEM

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Mazikeen x Teenage! Reader

You couldn���t believe how defenseless you were when those bullies came for you. How weak you acted cowering in fear instead of standing up for yourself. Your parents were cops for crying out loud you think you would have some type of fighting skills.

Hell even your little sister could kick someone’s ass if she needed to. Thanks to Maze but whenever the woman offered to give you some lessons in self-defense. You turned her offers down thinking that you wouldn’t ever need them, because most kids at your school knew what your parents did for a living. So that pretty much made you untouchable until today the wannabe gangster in your class. Targeted you as her victim because her big brother got busted the night before by cops. 

Because you were the kid of two cops Sam automatically blamed you. As if you snitched on her brother or something. Christ you didn’t didn’t even know who her brother was, and you highly doubted either of your parents made arrests. You tried to explain that cases like that were below their level, but that only made her angrier, and the beating more painful.

You made sure to stop by your friend’s house before going home. So you could use her make-up to cover up your black-eye, busted lip, and the little cuts on your cheek. No doubt your mom was still at work but Maze and Trixie  were both home by now. The last thing you needed were either of them seeing you like this. You were too old to be having someone else fight your battles you could handle this.

“Y/N” came the sound of your little sister’s voice as soon as you walked through the door. Two seconds later Trixie was leaped at you expecting you to catch her like you always did.

You did catch her but had to bite back a groan as pain exploded in your ribs. You grimaced for a second before fixing your face and spinning her around. “Hey kiddo how was school?”

“It was awesome we went on a really cool field trip” Trixie told you excitedly. Oh how you missed those days “oh yeah you can tell me about it later I got a ton of homework to do” You tell her before she can go into too much detail. Trixie nodded and dropped down from your arms. “Ready for your kung fu lessons little human” Maze asked as she walked came from downstairs.

Trixie nodded and just like that she was off “you want in the kid could use a partner” Maze asked you. You were really considering it but the throbbing pain in your side made you decide against it. “Naw I’ll pass maybe next time” You tell her and walk away as quickly as you can. Maze looks at you suspicously before heading to Trixie.

You spent the rest of the day hiding out in your room trying to come up with a solution for your bully problem. Sam had promised that there would be more to come. That she was going to make your life a living hell until her brother got out of jail. As long as he suffered so would you, and even though you hated to admit it. You were kind of scared of Sam she had a gang of friends to back her up. While you were pretty much a loner, and telling a teacher wouldn’t do any good. Most of them would just try giving the bully a stern lecture or call their parents. It never did any good you slam your face into a pillow and let out a scream. What were you going to do?

Maze wasn’t too suspicious when you opted out of kung fu lessons. After all unlike your little sister you never really got to excited about violence. You always preferred to watch or just play with your phone. But you never missed dinner or your little sitcoms that came on. Plus something just felt off about your behavior today. For one you were late coming home from school, you basically blew Trixie off, and she hadn’t missed that painful look on your face. When from the hug normally Maze would just text Chloe when you acted weird. So she would know to talk to you when she got home, but her case would keep her out all night. 

“Hey y/n your half of the pizza is getting cold might wanna come get it before Trixie devours it” she yelled. Banging on your door you were cocooned in your blankets with your head buried beneath the pillows. You hadn’t come up with any good plan to put a stop to the bullying . The frustration got to you so bad that you just ended up crying. Food was the last thing on your mind right now. “I’m not hungry You yelled back although your voice was muffled.” Okay something was definitely wrong with you.

Maze opened the door and was surprised to see you were in the dark. She flipped the light switch on and let out a sigh at the sight of you all wrapped up. “Alright bigger human come out of that blanket shield and talk to me” she demanded. At first you shook your head no but then realized she probably couldn’t see that. “No just go away Maze” You yelled trying to sound irritated but your voice cracked. She would definitely think you were weak and pathetic. One thing you forgot about Maze she wasn’t going to argue with you or bargain at all. 

You let a yelp as you tumbled onto the floor from the result of Maze pulling on the blankets till they unraveled. Luckily enough the blankets also cushioned your fall so it didn’t really hurt. But your bruised ribs didn’t take the fall so lightly either causing you to let out a pained groan while gripping your side. Alright I probably should’ve been gentler Maze thought. “You ready to tell me what’s going on? How did you get hurt?” 

You get up and take a seat on the bed but refuse to look at Maze or answer her questions. Filled with too much shame to tell her the truth and know she’ll see the lie coming from a mile away. What she does next surprises you Maze sits beside you and wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder pulling you to her. “Come on whatever is it can’t be that bad I won’t tell your mom if that’s what you’re worried about” she says with a smirk. She probably thinks that you beat someone up or pulled off a prank getting yourself hurt in the process. You could run with either of those lies but that would do no good.

“I got beat up by these stupid kids in my grade today after school” you whispered secretly hoping she didn’t hear you. Maze instantly went into to protective mode jumping up and pulling out two knives. “Someone hurt you who are they and where do they live? I’ll take care of them.” 

“Maze no you can’t hurt them they’re too young you would go to jail” You tell her with your hands held up motioning for her to calm down.

To your relief Maze put the knives away but then turned her attention back to you “why didn’t you fight back and kick their ass?” You look down a the floor when you answer “because I don’t know how to defend myself, and there was like 4 of them. Maze wanted to go back on the offense she wanted to know who hurt you, so she could take care of them. But you were right it wasn’t like in Hell there were too many rules here in place. You would have to take care of this, and she was going to show you how. “Come on kung fu class in back in session she says motioning for you to follow her.

You opened your mouth to protest but Maze stopped you with one determined glance. “The only way to deal with bullies is to show them you’re no one to be messed with. I’m going to teach you how and tomorrow you’re going to put it to good use.

“But what about mom? she’ll freak out when the school calls her” You say nervously. “Like I said we don’t have to tell your mom, and don’t worry I’ll make sure the school calls me instead” Maze reassures you. Finally she drags you downstairs where Trixie has eaten your half of the pizza, and is excited to help you learn kung fu.

Maze teaches all sorts of moves ranging from mildly painful to downright deadly, but warns you not to use the deadly ones. By the time y’all are done there’s a part of you that can’t wait to go to school tomorrow. Your mom comes in at around 1 am and just as promised. Maze doesn’t tell her a thing she decides that she’ll let Chloe know after you get your revenge.

The Next Day 

Sam wastes no time in hunting down before first period can even start. She locates you at your locker leaning up against whistling a happy tune. “You’re pretty relaxed for someone who’s about to be stuffed in your locker” she says cracking her knuckles. You just smirk and roll your shoulders and take a lazy fighting stance. Her three lackeys laugh at you and all of them start walking towards you. It doesn’t take long before a crowd has appeared around you and the bullies. Oh you were definitely going to enjoy this.

An hour later 

At first Maze was beyond annoyed at whoever woke her up at this ungodly hour and was going to maim. Whoever was on the other end of the cellphone until your principal told her. She needed to come down to the school now because they couldn’t reach Chloe or Dan courtesy of her meddling. She swiped your mom’s phone last night while she was in the shower forcing her to just to just leave without it this morning. She got Lucifer who was always eager to mess with Dan to get rid of your dad’s phone. Leaving her as the only option for the school to call.

She wants to observe the damage you did when she gets to the school, but sadly all four kids are in the nurse’s offices. With bloody noses possibly broken, black eyes, busted lips, and more. You sit in the principal’s office with a proud look on your face. When Maze finally arrives with a bored look on hers “you called me” she says jerking her chin at your principal. She took a seat beside you and propped her feet up on the desk.

The principal’s eyes widened slightly at Maze’s actions she wasn’t who she expected at all. “Um yes Ms.Smith it seems y/n assaulted four of her classmates today one of them has a broken arm and one a concussion-” she pauses on her explanation. At the sight of Maze holding up her fist which you bump before crossing your arms again. “Nice job kid” Maze praises you making the principal gape.

“You do realize she is going to be suspended possibly expelled for her actions” The principal exclaimed angrily. “Really because those kids assaulted her yesterday and y’all did nothing” Maze fired back. “That doesn’t give her a right to beat them up she should’ve came to us the principal protested. Although she gulped as Maze suddenly stood up and walked around the desk to her pushing her chair to the wall. You sat up in anticipation of what was about to happen.

“And exactly what would you have done to prevent from happening today? Would you have expelled or suspended them on sight or lead some stupid investigation?” The principal just babbled incoherently trying to explain the process because without any hardcore evidence of bullying. The school definitely wouldn’t have done anything solid today to protect you. “See so y/n had to take this situation into her own hands” Maze tells her leaning in closer to the principal. Who is starting to shake a little bit in the chair out of fear.

“Hey Maze come on you don’t want want to make things worse” You tell her with a nervous chuckle. No doubt afraid of what would happen when your mom eventually found out. Maze nodded and backed away but it was too late the principal had made up her mind. “Take your godchild and leave she is EXPELLED” the terrified lady yelled.

Later on that day

Chloe stared you down while you squirmed under scrutinizing gaze all the bravo you felt earlier gone. Your mom did find out when the school finally managed to reach her through her job, and told her what happened. Chloe made it home in a record time from the police station and found you with Maze recounting the event. Of what went down when Sam and her crew tried to force you in her locker. She was engrossed with your story until she saw Chloe behind you with one eyebrow raised.

You paused your story and slowly turned around Chloe pointed to the chair beside Maze, and you sat down. Your eyes now focused on the floor “Maze you can go we’ll talk later I need a minute with y/n” you heard Maze get up and leave. You were still to nervous to gather up the courage too look at your mom. You realized how wrong you were she was more disappointed in you for getting in trouble. Than she would’ve been if you had just told her the truth and gotten her to handle it.

“Hey tiger its okay you can look at me” Chloe told you. The nickname coming from your love of wildcats. You looked to the side instead making her sigh and grip your chin gently. Chloe made you look at her to your surprise she had a softened expression on her face. Not an angry one like you thought she would.

“Did those kids really hurt you?” she asked frowning slightly. You nodded wanting to look away again but Chloe wouldn’t let you. 

“Why didn’t you come to me y/n? I would’ve taken care of it.” Chloe looked sad at the fact that you didn’t trust her enough to come to her with your problems. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. I felt like I should’ve been able to handle myself you know You explained.”

“Oh sweetheart you never have to handle things on your own. No matter what it is you can tell me and I promise I’ll help you with it.” With those words Chloe pulled you into her arms you hugged her back a few tears falling from your eyes. 

“Does this mean I’m not in trouble?” you ask hopefully. 

Chloe laughs as she pulls away for a second “no you’re grounded indefinitely and no more kung fu lessons from Maze.”

“Hey that’s not fair Decker the kid did good” Maze yells from the stairs making you laugh and Chloe frown.

[havenoffandoms]

Sweeter Than You (Eskel/Lambert, Modern AU)

Based on Kashimalin’s 50 Types of Kisses prompt list.

Prompt: "A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating."

Pairing: Eskel/Lambert

Content Warning: Modern AU (lawyer Lambert, baker Eskel), implied sexual content at the end of the chapter (nothing graphic)

Read on AO3.

Lambert has had the shittiest day at work. 

First, he got stuck in downtown Novigrad traffic even though his traffic app told him that the roads were all clear, which in turn made him late for his 9am meeting. Real professional, great first impression. His client was understanding about the situation, but Lambert hates being late, especially when he’s trying to score new clients for his firm. The meeting went well despite his tardiness, and Lambert is convinced he’ll get the case settled in no time, but his day just kept getting shittier and shittier. He ended up spilling hot coffee on his brand new suit and the only spare he kept at the office was slightly too snug when he put it on. Great, he apparently put on weight, too. That has to be Eskel’s fault, what with all the treats he bakes for Lambert at the weekend. 

If the day wasn’t bad enough, Lambert’s car broke down on his way to lunch with an important client. It took the tow-truck a whole hour to get to him, which meant that Lambert had to cancel on his client and lose out on a potential settlement agreement. To add insult to injury, the sandwich Lambert ended up buying from a nearby bakery tasted of ass. Though admittedly Lambert’s taste buds have considerably developed since he started dating Eskel, because the man is a literal genius in the kitchen. Lambert can’t eat generic sandwiches anymore without comparing them to Eskel’s creations. 

When the tow-truck finally showed up, Lambert decided to call time of death on this generally miserable day. He called his secretary and told her to clear his diary for the day, which he knew that Essi would pull off. She’s hands down the best secretary in the whole of Novigrad, in Lambert’s eyes anyway, and well worth the considerable salary he pays her each month. After calling Essi, Lambert hailed down a taxi only to find that he left his wallet in his car, which was now being towed away to the nearest garage. Great. Just fantastic. 

Fuck this shit, fuck his car, fuck his job, and fuck the entire universe. 

Lambert just starts walking without a clear destination in mind. His suit is too tight and uncomfortable, but he can’t bring himself to care as he tries to work off the anxious energy bubbling in his chest. He wants to scream, or punch something, whatever yields the most satisfaction. Why is the world against him today? What did he do to deserve this? Lambert considers dialling Eskel, but he knows that his boyfriend won’t be able to hear the phone if he’s at work.

Oh, wait a second. 

Lambert looks around for the first time since storming off and he quickly realises that he’s not actually too far away from Eskel’s shop. The thought brightens his mood a little - if Lambert’s not able to go home and hide away from the world, at least he can spend the afternoon helping his boyfriend out in the bakery. Or just wait until Eskel has a minute to spare so Lambert can hug out all his frustrations in the backroom… or do other things in Eskel’s office. With a renewed spring in his step, Lambert makes haste towards Eskel’s shop. 

It doesn't take long for him to reach Lil Titbits, a quaint-looking shop just off the main street of Novigrad's business centre. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but Lambert knows just how hard Eskel worked to make the inside of his shop as inviting and cosy as humanly possible. As soon as Lambert steps inside the bakery, the heavenly smell of warm baked bread and freshly made coffee invades his nostrils. If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend like he’s stepping inside his and Eskel’s home rather than his boyfriend’s shop. 

The little bell above the door chimes loudly, announcing his presence. Lambert instantly notices that the place is quiet - which is not unusual for a Wednesday afternoon, when most of Eskel’s customers are still either at work or at school. Lambert notices an elderly couple sitting in the booth by the window, enjoying a generous slice of lemon-meringue pie - oh fuck, Lambert loves Eskel’s lemon-meringue pies - between themselves. Lambert can’t fathom why anyone would share a slice of pie that good, especially since Eskel’s creations are by far the best fucking thing Lambert’s ever tasted. People are weird. 

Apart from those two customers, the place is empty. It doesn’t take long for Eskel to appear behind the counter, wearing his favourite apron, the one that reads “They Call Me Darth Baker” written in a white font on the black fabric. Geralt, Eskel’s brother, bought him that apron for Christmas, but Lambert never thought Eskel would actually wear it at work, for every customer to see, but that’s Eskel for you. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about what people think of him. Lambert has always admired that about him. 

“Hey babe,” Eskel greets him, his smile bright enough to rival the moon, stars, and the fucking sun.  The deep baritone of his boyfriend’s voice washes over Lambert in calming waves. “Bit early for you to be here. Everything alright?” 

Lambert’s legs move of their own volition, and before he knows it, he’s behind the counter burying himself in the warmth and safety of Eskel’s arms. “I am now,” he breathes, his tone just on that side of pouty, before rubbing his cheek against Eskel’s nerdy apron. He doesn’t give a shit if the customers at the back of the shop see them, nor does he care if he ends up with flour in his beard. He needs this, needs to feel Eskel close, because today’s been a shitty day and the only person who can make it better is his boyfriend. 

“Oh sweetheart, what’s up?” Eskel asks, his voice soft and reassuring like he’s talking to a spooked animal. Lambert only tightens his hold around Eskel, not ready to break the sweetness of the moment by reminiscing about his not-so-good-very-bad day. “Wanna move through to the kitchen?” 

That, in fact, sounds like a great fucking idea. Lambert almost whines when Eskel pulls away from him, but the urge quickly fades when Eskel laces their fingers together and drags Lambert through the back by the hand. Once they have regained a semblance of privacy, Lambert lets Eskel pull him into another soul-crushing hug. 

“I hate everything. And everyone. Well no, not everyone. I don’t hate you.”

“Mmh, good to know,” Eskel rumbles, sounding amused, “what happened, puppy?”

Lambert buries deeper in Eskel’s embrace as he replies, his words slightly muffled by the fabric of Eskel’s apron. 

“Got stuck in traffic this morning, then was late for my meeting, spilt coffee on my suit, my car broke down, I missed lunch with a potential client who’s worth a buttload of money, and I’m getting fat,” Lambert ends, his tone decidedly whiny when he’s reminded of just how snug his emergency suit feels. Damn Eskel and his ridiculously good treats. 

“Naw, hell Lamb,” Eskel shifts and grabs something resting on the working surface behind him. When Lambert looks up, he sees Eskel holding what looks to be a lemon and white chocolate muffin inches away from Lambert’s face. “Open up! My baking always cheers you up.” 

“Your baking is the reason why I’m getting fat!” Lambert grouses half-heartedly, his tongue poking out from between his lips to lick at the buttercream frosting covering the top of the muffin. “Mmmh, white chocolate! I knew it.” 

“Was gonna save it for you to celebrate your new client. Guess it can also be used as a consolatory muffin,” Eskel brings the treat closer to Lambert’s lips and offers a small, encouraging smile, “c’mon, take a bite. I promise you’ll feel better.” 

Lambert can’t resist Eskel’s pretty eyes anyway, so he happily lets his boyfriend feed him the muffin. Lambert takes a huge chunk out, the white chocolate and lemon flavours exploding on his tongue pulling an appreciative moan. Lambert’s eyes flutter shut as he savours his morsel, and when he opens them again, he sees Eskel’s smile has widened into a pleased grin. 

“Good?” he asks, like there’s any fucking doubt about how good his muffin tastes. 

“As always,” Lambert whispers in response, snatching the muffin out of Eskel’s hand and stuffing what’s left of it in his mouth. Eskel levels him with an unimpressed look, clicking his tongue in disapproval at his boyfriend’s actions. 

“You’re gonna choke one of these days,” Eskel tells him, trying not to laugh as Lambert tries to chew around the massive bite in his mouth, “look at your lil hamster cheeks. Adorable.” 

Lambert glares - the full effect of his scowl is probably lost on Eskel, though, with how Lambert is still struggling to swallow his treat - but the intention is there. Eskel shakes his head fondly before leaning in and catching Lambert’s lips in a chaste kiss which probably tastes sweet and lemony, but Eskel doesn’t seem to mind the taste of his dessert on Lambert’s lips. It takes Lambert a little while to swallow the food in his mouth, but when he does, he puckers his lips in a silent request for more of Eskel’s sweet kisses. 

“Yes?” Eskel teases, raising one eyebrow, “can I help you?” 

Lambert’s lower lip juts out into a sad pout at those words, an action that pulls a warm chuckle from deep within Eskel’s chest. He takes pity on Lambert and pulls him impossibly closer to his firm body, rubbing his nose against Lambert’s in a tender gesture. Lambert’s hands come to rest on Eskel’s hips, where he squeezes the soft flesh of his boyfriend’s puppy fat. Gods, but he loves absolutely everything about Eskel. 

“Can you close the shop early today and take me home?” Lambert asks, voice barely above a whisper, as he stretches up to capture Eskel’s mouth in a demanding kiss that leaves very little as to which kind of activity Lambert has in mind for their evening together. His hand squeezes Eskel’s hip more firmly, pulling a needy whine from his boyfriend in response.

“Minx,” Eskel growls under his breath, punctuating his statement with a final kiss, “I’ll see what I can do.”

As Eskel walks away, Lambert doesn’t miss the way his boyfriend has to readjust his pants which are now tenting at the front. Lambert leans back against the worktop of Eskel’s baking table, and first undoes the buttons of his suit jacket, then the top three buttons of his shirt. He, unlike Eskel, isn’t trying to hide the visible bulge forming in his far too tight pants, dammit. 

“You do what you have to do, sweetheart,” Lambert speaks in a sultry tone, the irritation brought on by a rather shitty start to the day long forgotten when he meets Eskel’s lust-blown eyes, “I’ll be right here, looking like a goddamn snack for you the whole time.” 

Eskel curses under his breath, pointedly looking away from Lambert. 

“Bastard. You just wait until we get home,” Eskel threatens half-heartedly before leaving the kitchen to empty the showcases and store the pastries in the refrigerators on the main shop floor. Lambert feels positively giddy with anticipation at the thought of how him and Eskel will spend the rest of the evening. 

Lambert’s day, in spite of everything, doesn’t seem so shitty in the end, not when he’s got Eskel to come home to. 

[alloftheimagines]

billy hargrove | heaven-sent | part twelve

masterlist | series | part eleven

words: 1.5k

warnings: swearing, smoking, hints towards abuse

summary:  she’s an angel. he may as well be the devil. one would not exist without the other.

Frances awakens to the blinding midday sun washing out a clear blue sky, and she rubs her eyes in an effort to wake herself up. Beside her, Billy snores lightly, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, his lips puckered ever-so-slightly.

The heater is still on full blast, and his cheeks are flushed, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. She untangles herself from the heap of blankets and turns it down, careful not to wake him.

Then, she remembers why she is here. Hopper. El. They're still gone.

She unfastens her seat-belt and opens the passenger door as quietly as she can. One foot is out when a low rumble sounds from Billy's chest.

"Runnin' out on me while I'm sleepin', angel?" He squints one eye open, his lips curved into a smirk. "That's cold, even for you."

She groans quietly. "Figure you'd be used to it with all the girls you take home."

"Ouch." His arms emerge from his blanket and he stretches with a silent yawn. His hair is flattened from leaning against the headrest for so long.

"You shouldn't have let me fall asleep," she scolds.

"You needed it," he counters, throwing the blankets in the backseat. He no longer wears his jacket, and Frances watches the way his muscles ripple beneath his white shirt. "You wanna see if your dad's home yet?"

"You don't have to keep doing this, Billy," she says quietly, timidly, as she leans back into the car and shuts out the cold. "I'm sure you have better ways of spending your Sunday."

"Undoubtedly, but if I let you out of my sight again, you might have another breakdown and wander the woods like a madwoman." His voice is light as he turns the key in the ignition. "It's no problem, Fran, really."

"Okay," she nods, clipping her seat-belt on again. She doesn't have it in her to argue, especially since her legs are stiff from a day spent wandering all over Hawkins yesterday. "Let's go."

* * *

Despite the circumstances, there is something peaceful about riding in the car with Billy in daylight. Frances's eyes drift dazedly, following each tree they pass, each car that passes them, in an attempt to distract herself from the heaviness in her chest.

Billy taps the steering wheel restlessly, his eyes still swollen with sleep. They have already checked the trailer, and Frances made him wait in the car a few miles back while she checked the cabin in the woods, muttering an excuse about a hunting spot.

"If I ask you why you sleep in here sometimes, will you tell me?" she asks, breaking the silence.

"I told you last night," he replies dismissively, looking out of the window to avoid eye contact. "My house is a shit-show."

"Why?"

He hesitates. Frances sees his blue eyes icing over and she knows before he speaks that she won't be getting an answer. "Just is, alright?"

She nods in understanding, licking her dry lips nervously. "The trailer is empty most nights save for me. You're welcome to use it if you need to. You don't need to stay in your car."

"Am I your charity case now, angel?" he growls, jaw clenching.

She exhales in annoyance. "That's not what I meant."

Her gaze falls outside again, and it freezes there as they pass one of the fields. In the middle of it, sticking out of a thick patch of woods, is Hopper's car.

"There!" she exclaims, urgency causing her voice to rise. "Pull over at this farm. That's my dad's car."

He obeys, taking the next turn down into a narrow lane, where the overgrown branches scratch against the windows. Frances is suddenly glad that it is daylight.

The lane leads to one of the old farms, though there are no animals around save for a couple of horses in the stables. Frances's heart begins to race, and the car has barely stopped before she climbs out of it.

Merrill Wright, the owner of the farm, is standing beside his tractor, chewing on tobacco as he watches the Camaro pull in with only slight interest. There's no sign of anyone else here, her father or otherwise.

"Mr. Wright," Frances greets as she approaches him quickly, motioning to the chief's parked car across the field. "Is my father here?"

She can hear Billy's heavy boots crunching on the gravel as he slams the door shut and follows behind her. In a minute, he is beside her, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Wright eyes him wearily.

"Naw, I haven't seen your daddy. Sorry, Frannie."

"But his car's right there," she pointed desperately, her heart falling into her stomach.

Wright shrugs, shielding his eyes from the sun and scratching his head. "It's been here since yesterday afternoon. No sign of Hop, though. Strange. I called it into the station earlier."

"What did they say?"

"Their guess is as good as mine: they got no clue where he is." Guilt flits over his expression when he realises his own insensitivity. "Look, I'm sure he's fine. You and your boyfriend here wanna come in for some late lunch?"

Frances shakes her head, saying, "He's not my boyfriend," at the same time that Billy mumbles, "We're not together."

"Thought he didn't look nothin' like your Byers boy," Wright states. "Anyhow, you hungry?"

"No, thank you." Frances pastes a shaky smile on her face, ignoring Billy's scowl at the mention of Jonathan. "Do you mind if I have a look around the car?"

Wright gestures to the field with raised eyebrows. "Be my guest. Watch the smell, though. The damn pumpkins are rotting."

Frances is about to set off. Now she stops, frowning. "Wait, what?"

Merrill nods frantically, his lips curling in anger. "I told your daddy a couple a'days ago that that damn Eugene has poisoned my crops. I expect that's why he stopped by. Why he left his car here, I'll never know."

"Eugene?" Billy asks on behalf of both of them, slipping a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it.

"Owns the farm by the lake. Had the nerve to accuse me of contaminating it, then mine here goes the same way the next day."

Frances and Billy share a bewildered look before Frances looks back at her fathers car, sitting lonely in the field. "Thanks, Merrill. We won't take too long."

"No skin off my back either way. Take all the time you need."

Frances shoots him a grateful smile before heading across the field. Her sneakers sink into the mud, the smoke from Billy's cigarette curling around her as he catches up with her. "I feel Sorry for your dad, havin' to deal with small town hicks paranoid about some conspiracy against their damn crops."

"That and underage drunk drivers, right?"

"Lucky he didn't have to deal with me."

She rolls her eyes.

"You didn't tell him," Billy points out after a moment, puffing his cigarette again.

She stops, turning around in confusion. "What?"

"The farmer. When he mentioned Byers, you didn't tell him he's not your boyfriend anymore."

"I have bigger things to worry about," she says, her face deadpan.

His usual smirk dances on his lips, but in his eyes something darker than just teasing glistens. "Yet you had no problem correcting him when he assumed I was your guy."

She scoffs, shaking her head. "You did the exact same thing."

He shrugs it off, adjusting the collar of his jacket. "I'm just sayin', it's interesting is all. Where is Byers, anyways? Shouldn't he be the one helpin' you with all this?"

Distracted, Frances covers her mouth with her scarf as they reach the infected plants. Merrill had been right: the pumpkins are turning a tar-like shade of black, sinking into the festering soil. The smell is the worst part of it though: it reminds Frances of decaying corpses, causing nausea to settle in her stomach. She swallows to keep down the bile.

"Jesus," Billy coughs, stubbing out his cigarette so he can cover his mouth. "Smells worse than the cow shit."

Frances ignores him, pressing her forehead to the car's glass and peering in. It's empty, her father's coat left abandoned on the seat. There's still a light dusting of frost on the trunk and windshield, proof that it hasn't been touched since this morning.

"You think he went into the woods?"

"I don't know," Frances replies, eyeing the mass of tall pines in front of her. The rotting is endless, the twisting, mouldy vines disappearing deep into the forest. "Worth a look."

Even as she says it, she knows she will not find him. Her chest is tight as she fights for each breath, Billy leading the way into the trees. The pumpkins explode beneath her feet, green and grotesque. She falters when they come to a spade stuck in the ground, though there is no hole in sight. The ground looks the same here as everywhere else: damp and untouched.

She kneels, running her hands over the soil. Her fingers come back black.

"Is that your dad's?" Billy questions from behind her.

"I think so," she whispers. Flies buzz metres away from her on the vines. Something sticky and grey and eerily familiar clings to them, something that makes her feel cold right to her bones. She touches it and an emptiness rolls over her like a violent, black wave.

"I think I know where he is."

[ilovefanfic86]

Supernatural S15E18 “Despair” and S15E19 “Inherit the Earth”

MAJOR SPOILERS

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This is going to be my longest posting, so I am going to add a keep reading link.

I am skipping episode 17 because way too much happened since then. Spoilers ahead. Plus a shit ton of side notes.

Come share my pain...

“Despair”

I’m not going to dwell to much on the whole episode. I just want to focus on the main parts. 

I’m glad that we got to see Charlie, Donna, and Bobby. Then they get dusted. Fuck you Chuck.

Billie wants to take over as Death and put everyone back where they belong. Anyone that was resurected would die human and angel a like.

Billie sends Jack to the Empty to let off his bomb and kill it. 

THE BIG MOMENT...

Billie is chasing down Cas and Dean. She wants to see Dean die before she does. Dean and Cas get locked in the dungeon so he can block her power. Dean then tells Cas that he got them into this all because he wanted to kill Chuck. Then Cas went and made it canon.

Cas finally tells Dean about his deal with the Empty. Once Castiel finds happiness, the Empty would kill him. The one thing that he wants, its something he can never have.

Cas proceeds to tell Dean how pulling him out from Hell changed him. How the way Dean sees himself as a killer, is not the way the world sees him.

Castiel tells Dean that he is the most selfless, caring, and loving human being he has ever know. Everything that Dean did, good or bad, he did it for love. Dean made Cas care about people and the world. That

Dean asks him, “Why does this sound like a goodbye?” Cas replies, “Because it is.” 

Cas then tells Dean, “I love you.” 

DESTIEL IS CANON!!! (All of us who knew) 

The Empty is summond kills Billie and then Castiel.He is taken with a smile on his face. He’s happiness was telling Dean he loved him. Then its just Dean on the floor.Crying. Me too Dean. Me too.

Sam, Jack and Dean are the only ones left on Earth.

Supernatural

S15E19

“Inherit the Earth”

My heart can’t take this.

By the way.... DESTIEL IS CANON!!!!

Damn I guess I’m gone too.

Oh shit! Where is Cas?! NO NO NO!!

This hurts on so many levels.

Lol! “Sudden Death”

Jack praying to Cas is just too much right now.

What the hell is wrong with Jack?

Damn I hate to say it, but Sam is right. He wanted to find another way and the world finally paid the price.

Hearing Sam wanting to give up is hard.

Fuck Chuck!

You damn right bring back Cas.

“The world is this way because you wouldn’t take a knee.” Fucking hell Chuck.

Poor joke.

Dean is drunk and unconcious Dean on the floor. He misses Cas so much that he starts drinking heavenly again.

Jack looks adorable in his pj’s.

 *Side Note*

I am starting to think that all the things that Jack did to kill Chuck, that made him God-like? I mean he basically became a super nova with the amount of power he had and then survived. Plus the plants are dying around him too.

Jack can sense life?

Dean found a dog and named it. Talk about a character arc.

 *Side Note 2*

I feel like Dean finding the dog relates to Cas dying. Hear me out. Dean doesn’t like dogs. And we were made to believe that Dean was straight and loved Cas as a brother. Then Cas confessed his love for Dean. Dean may now be open to things he “THOUGHT he didn’t like. Because you don’t miss it until it’s gone. Like Cas.

OH SHIT!!! THAT WAS SO FUCKED UP!! Chuck took the damn dog then smiled at Dean. Man FUCK YOU CHUCK!!!!

Chuck really just fucking with them now.

I feel like I’m watching the movie “The Prophecy”, when they were at the gate.

Okay...So Michael is the one who had the humans believe that God was an all loving, all caring God. After Chuck left, so heGod would feel the love. Talk about a plot twist.Michael and the Winchesters working together.

Dean looks so scared.

WHAT CAS!!???!!!

Dean ran so fast up the stairs to get the door!!??

GOD DAMN IT LUCIFER!!!!!

....I need a break.... 

The Empty sent Lucifer to get God’s death book. 

He brought a reaper then killed her. Making her the new Death and can read the book.

It’s way too many plot twits!! Chuck let Lucifer out?!

Kill his ass Michael!!

Watching Lucifer dying again is so satisfying.

What’s wrong with Jack?!

Dean caring for Michael is another storyline arc.

Sam is going to use the Book of the Damned to read the book.

This shit is intense.

WHOA!!

OH SHIT MICHAEL TOLD CHUCK!!

OMG!!! MICHAEL!! HE DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THAT!!!

I feel you Sam. If I’m going to die, at least let me get a hit in.

CHUCK IS GOING TO FIGHT THEM!!

OH SHIT...

This is painful to watch. My babies!! 

Sam helping Dean up is too much.

Hell naw they won’t stay down. FUCK YOU!!!

I’M DEAD...

WHY ARE THEY SMILING???!!!?!?!?!?!?!

JACK!!!!

Chuck laying in the dirt, scared is everything. 

“Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer.” “That’s not who I am.” WHO WROTE THIS!?!?!?!?!?

THAT’S RIGHT CHUCK!! FUCK YOU!!

WOW!

Jack brought the people back!!!

I’m so proud of Jack.

Jack is the new God and Amara is inside of him. They are both in harmony with each other.

Sam, Dean... Jack isn’t coming back to the Bunker.

I’m confused.

Damn it Jack. 

He will be such a good God.

NOT...THE...HAND!!! FUCK!!!

Dean in maroon.

So are you going to talk about Cas now???

Wow. they are really free.

They carved they’re names in the table.

...Okay... This is too hard to watch. I’m a huge fucking mess. This was so bittersweet, but I’m scared for next week.

WHERE THE FUCK IS CASTIEL?!?!?!?!?! I NEED TO RELIVE THIS MOMENT!!!

Promo

S15E20

“Carry On”

...Son of a Bitch...

*Side Notes*

 Michael’s death was beautiful, yet tragic. All he ever wanted was Chuck’s love. When Chuck was killing him, I noticed that Michael’s heart was exploding. Basically his heart broke. 

 I love how they made Jack into the new God. The concept of it was amazing to me. Because Kelly and Cas told them that Jack would bring paradise to the world. Jack telling Sam and Dean that he is always with them.In the rain, the wind, the sands on the beach. You could tell that Jared was really crying. Me too Jared.

 Its beautiful that Sam always believed in Jack. He knews he wasn’t evil . Sam Winchester raised GOD and a good man. God is a 3yr old.

If Castiel doesn’t come back the next episode I am seriously going to throw hands.Cause honestly, just because Jack brought back everyone, (Did he bring the monsters back?) why is Dean happy? It feels like they are just forgetting about Cas. 

Becky was right!!! 15x04 When she reads Chuck’s ending, she was us right now. That shit really hurt.

I have never been more proud of Sam and Dean than I was this episode. Even though they had planned the attack on Chuck. Jack is absorbing the energy that Chuck is releasing fighting the boys. Chuck is beating them breaking bones, making them bloody. They continue to fight him. Fighting him through broken bones, blood, sweat, and tears... THE WINCHESTERS NEVER STOP FIGHTING!!!

Instead of killing Chuck, they leave him. To become human. To die, old and alone. No one remember him or care about him. Leaving him in the dirt in “despair” that we have.

They did Dean dirty in this episode. The dog was so hurtful and wrong as hell. Then Lucifer pretending to be Cas that was the most hurtful scene to me. The hope and happiness Dean had when he thought Cas was there. The way he ran up the stairs, 2 at a time. The looks of horror and disappointment on his face was heartbreaking.

I know this was a lot to read if you made this far. Lol! This was the best epsiode in the series to me. It has surpassed; “Swan Song” and “Black”. I know as soon as I hear “Carry on my wayward son...” I will have a panic attack.

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Wicked House

Prompt for the 31st was: Wicked. Thanks to @thats-amnesty-babe and Morgan E Ashton for the help brainstorming.

Duck whacks his hands together, clearing the dust from them, before raising a hand in friendly farewell to the movers. He picks his way through the boxes, up the stairs, and to his bedroom. Opening the door sends a bolt of dark, fluffed-up fur into the hallway.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry fuzzball, but I couldn’t have you bein underfoot or runnin out the door.” He scratches the cat behind her ears, and her affronted glare gives way to forgiving purrs. 

He unpacks for awhile, finds a good luck note from Juno tucked in the winter coat she gave him (“I mean it, Duck, winter up there’s a hell of a lot colder than here in West Virginia”). Orders pizza, gets the kitchen table set up in time to eat it. Flips through his to-do list for the next few days as he does. 

ka-BOOM

Winnie yowls and runs from the room as Duck nearly falls out of his chair. 

“What the fuck?” He dashes outside, expecting to find an exploded car or downed powerline.

He finds nothing of the sort. None of his neighbors are even poking their heads out. There’s a smaller boom, from the house next to his (his is on the corner, so only has one neighbor). 

“Well, Woodbridge finally managed to offload one of these places, huh?”

He turns to find a rather prim looking woman walking a furious looking Pomeranian. 

“Beg pardon?”

“You’re the first person to buy any of the houses near that wicked place in years.”

Duck looks around again. Every house on the block, save for his own darkly painted victiorian and the brightly painted one next to it, has a sun-worn for sale sign in the yard. 

“What the fuck?”

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

“Oh, so you’re the guy who bought the house next to Indrid Colds place?” The man at the grocery store asks as he rings him up. Duck  was overjoyed to find a real mom and pop place near his house and Leo, the owner, has been chatting with him.

“So it seems.”

“Don’t let folks make you too jittery about it. Indrid’s an odd guy, but he don’t mean no harm.”

“What the hell does he do? All kinds of weird lights and noises and shit coming from that place.”

“Not a clue. Seems like you’re in a better position to find out than most of us.” He tilts his head towards the beer Duck is loading into a bag.

“Dunno, kinda like havin all my limbs. Not sure I’ll keep ‘em all if I go in there.”

Leo shrugs, “suit yourself.”

As Duck walks home with his groceries, he mulls over the suggestion; sure, the loud noises aren’t great, but they no worse and no more frequent than a loud party or a neighbor with barky dogs. 

He sets the bags down on his front step, fumbling to find which pocket he put his keys in. 

“Don’t move!”

He freezes, finds a tall man with silvery hair moving purposefully up his drive. He’s in a long, silk bathrobe and bunny slippers, bright red glasses perched on his nose. When he places his hands on Ducks shoulders and starts moving him back off the porch, Duck tenses, tries to pull away.

He can’t. The man is surprisingly strong for such a beanpole.

“Hey, pal, look-”

“No, you look.” He points a finger, and Duck squints for a beat before seeing it; a black widow, dangling on a thread as she lowers down from his door frame. 

“Shit, almost walked right into her.”

“Yes, you did. I thought you might prefer not to.”

Duck takes another look at the stranger, including the spot where his hand is still resting on Ducks arm. The other man follows the gaze, pulls his hand back apologetically. 

“Gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re Indrid Cold.”

“Oh, you’ve heard of me!”  Indrid smiles brightly, only to have the expression falter, “oh, ah, you’ve heard of me. I can’t say I blame people for trying to warn you away from me, given my reputation.” The last few words come out so soft and resigned, the kind of vulnerability that’s either a trap or the truth of someone who has gone a little too long without the benefit of the doubt.

“Reputation don’t matter half as much as your actions. Far as I’m concerned, the only thing I know you done for sure is save me from a nasty spider bite.” He smiles kindly, holds out his hand, “I’m-”

“-Duck Newton.” Indrid takes it, shaking it with an oddly wide smile. 

“Uh, right. Well, I’m gonna get rid of that widow, but if you wanted to come in for a beer or coffee or somethin I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“That sounds wonderful but, oh, oh dear, um, excuse me something’s just come up. Hope to see you again.” He dashes back down the path, down the sidewalk, and up the steps to his bright yellow door. 

“Huh.” Duck watches the door for a moment, then goes to get a broom. 

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

The diner smells like eggs, bacon, and butter when Duck steps in from the chill of the early September air. 

It’s quiet, but he settles on a spot at the counter all the same, in case they need the booths for bigger groups. 

“Good morning,” a cheerful, somewhat crunchy-granola looking blonde woman greets him, pad in hand “any coffee or tea this morning?” 

“Coffee, please.”

“You got it.” She spins, grabs the pot, and pours him a mug. Several of the flatops are where Duck can see them, being worked expertly by a man who must be well over six feet tall. Whatever he’s moving about on them smells incredible.

“Ready to order.”

“Whatever he’s cookin right there.”

“Hash it is.” She smiles again.

The cook nods, and as he sets to work he asks, “you just passing through?”

“Naw, moved here a few weeks ago, got a job in the national forest.”

“Right on.”

“Oh yeah.” A voice behind him says, and he finds two older men sizing him up, “you’re the fella who got duped into buying next to Cold’s place.”

“He’s a man, Clarence, not fucking black mold.” The cook grumbles.

“How’s living next to the wicked witch treating you?” The second man, in a red ball-cap, asks.

“Warlock.” Says a clipped voice. It takes Duck a moment to see it belongs to the man going over receipts at the register, slick dark hair flecked with grey and face movie-star handsome, “if Indrid did have those abilities you all seem convinced he does, he’d be a warlock, not a witch.”

“How would you know?” Red cap retorts.

“Ey, shut up Jim, you know the boy was in the CIA. Better not disrespect him.”

“FBI, not CIA

“All I’m saying is that wherever Cold goes, disaster follows. Not to mention the man’s a known f-”

“One more syllable and you’ve got a lifetime ban.” Barclay points the spatula towards the men.

In the midst of the standoff, the bell dings. 

And Indrid Cold walks into the diner.

 He’s bundled up like it’s snowing, walks up to the counter and pauses when he sees Duck. 

Duck pats the stool next to him, “Nice to see you again, neighbor.”

“Likewise.” Indrid gives that odd smile again and sits down, “Good morning Barclay, Joseph.” He nods first to the cook, then the man at the register, “Oh, and hello Dani. The usual, please.”

Dani grins, turns to one of the drink machines and comes back moments later with a cup of cocoa.

“I can’t handle how bitter coffee is, even with sugar.” Indrid says, two seconds before Duck is going to ask him why that drink.

“You’re braver than I am, that much sugar this early’d have me on the ceilin.”

Indrid smiles softly, “Lightweight.”

Duck barks out a laugh, making Indrid snicker as well. 

“Any plans for this weekend, Duck?” 

“Got some new model ships to work on, might go for a hike, nothin too excitin.”

“You don’t get enough hiking at work?” Indrid cocks his head.

“I mean, not really? It’s different when I’m on my own; I don’t got an agenda or shit I’m supposed to be takin care of. I can just go at my own pace.”

Indrid makes a noise of understanding right as Barclay sets two plates down. Indrids’ is piled with pancakes and strawberries. 

Barclay points a can of whipped cream down at the plate, “say when.”

The tower of cream is almost a foot high before Indrid goes, “when.”

As they eat, they chat about this and that, though mostly Indrid asks Duck about his move, and how he’s liking the town. Then he muses, “I’d like to go hiking sometime. I really ought to get out a bit more.”

“You can come with me sometime, if you want.”

“Really?”

“Sure, long as you don’t mind me talkin about trees.”

“Not in the slightest.”

Duck raises his glass in cheers, “well, if you decide you want to, you know where to find me.”

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

Duck balances the plate of cornbread (his fathers no-fail recipe)  in one hand as he lifts the other to knock on the door.

“Come in!” Indrid calls a half-second before his hands meets the wood. 

The inside of Indrid’s house is laid out much the same as Ducks own. This is where the similarities end. There are drawings scattered everywhere, pinned to walls and strewn across tables. Art and posters and letters cover the walls, each of which is painted a different color.

As he makes his way into the kitchen he notices chalk and bottles of salt, piles of old books, and many, many, many sweaters. 

Indrid is at the sink, filling a kettle with water. 

“You’re right on time, I was just making myself some tea. Though I can make something stronger if you prefer.”

“Tea’s fine.” Duck sets the plate down, “figured I oughta make a proper, neighborly introduction.”

He leaves out the part where, in the two days since they spoke at the diner, he’s thought about Indrid quite a bit. And that whenever an explosion or other odd occurrence came from next door, Ducks’ first response is no longer annoyance; it’s worry. What if something bad happened and Indrid had no one checking on him?

“I’ve been thinking” Indrid sets a mug down in front of him, sits across from him at the rickety table, “there’s a little get-together at the Lodge, that hotel on the edge of town, this weekend. If you were interested, we could hike out that way and then stop by after.”

“You know the folks there?”

“I do. Barclay and Joseph live in one of the cottages, Dani lives in the lodge proper, and they were kind enough to invite me to movie night once. I suppose I found my people, so to speak, there even if I still am a bit solitary.”

“Be happy to come, like to get to know more folks in town myself.” Duck glances back from examining some nearby drawings, and immediately knows he gave the right answer. Indrid is looking at him like he hung every star in the sky. 

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

Ducks’ gotten used to the occasional smoke detector cry from next door.

But this one isn’t stopping. 

He grabs the fire extinguisher from under his sink and bolts out one front door and into another. 

Smoke drifts down the stairs and Indrid is nowhere in sight. So up the stairs he goes, turning into the room where the smoke is the worst. Mercifully, there is no actual fire, just clear signs of one being hastily and messily put out. He opens the windows, and after a few minutes of cross-breeze the alarm shuts off. 

It’s only then that he hears a tap running and someone muttering. 

He crosses the hall, finds Indrid glaring into the mirror over the bathroom sink, trying to sooth a nasty looking burn on his arm. 

“Shit, what happened?” 

Indrid stares at the water, “just an accident. I was careless. I’ll be alright.”

“Here, lemme look at your arm-yeah, okay, I’m gonna go grab my first aid kit from my place.”  

He’s out and back as fast as he can manage, returns to find Indrid sitting on the toilet lid, sulking. 

Duck holds out his hand and Indrid flops his wrist into it. As gently as he can, Duck tends to the burn. It’s not bad enough to need a hospital, but it’s still a nasty looking mark.

“What were you tryin to do?” He asks softly.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me?”

“I have certain...abilities. Magic. Most of it related to seeing the future. But some of it is more general, or is in other fields of the discipline, and I was trying to use one field to influence a future and it backfired.”

Duck considers him a moment, then gently squeezes his hand, “hey, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. Don’t gotta make a story up on my behalf.”

“I’m not MAKING IT UP!” Indrid shouts, yanking his hand away and standing up.

“Indrid, you don’t expect me to believe-”

“ What? That I’m stuck seeing futures I can’t stop, stuck with powers I still can’t fully control, that I’ve made myself an outcast time and again all because of these blasted things.” He rips off his glasses and chucks them down the hall. Crumples to the floor, head in his hands.

Cautiously, Duck scooches across the hardwood. He wants to reach out, to soothe the tensed lines of Indrids’ body. But he’s not sure that’s what Indrid wants. Not sure if he’s royally fucked everything up.

“Okay, I’m listenin.” His voice, gentle as it is, may as well be coming through a megaphone for how Indrid flinches. Then he looks at his newly bandaged arm. 

“Ten years ago, I bought those glasses from a little curio shop. I thought they were stylish. I put them on when I got home and everything changed. Long story short, the glasses are a conduit to a demonish creature. When I put them on, he became my patron. I gained his ability to see the future, as well as some other powers. I panicked, tried to take the glasses back, but the store was simply gone. Turns out if I try to forsake his gift, it will go very badly for me, so I have to wear them all the time, save for sleep and things like that.”

“Jesus.”

“I’ve been trying to use my powers to stop the disasters I see coming but so often it doesn’t work, and then I have to watch it play out in real time after seeing it again and again in my head.” He stands, slowly, and walks to retrieve the glasses, “or when I try to do enchantments, sometimes things go haywire. Did you happen to see the little succulent garden in the living room?”

“You mean the one that’s as big as your coffee table?”

“Yes. That was originally two succulents. I bought them as a housewarming gift for you then decided maybe four was better. So I tried to magic up two more. And got a garden instead.” He’s still as he speaks, glasses held in his palm, “It isn’t all bad. I have been able to stop some things, and I’ve gotten much better at magic. But the failures so often dwarf that.”

“Indrid?” Duck stands in the bathroom doorway, waits for his friend to turn around before continuing, “thank you for tellin me all that. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Indrid’s smile is weak, but genuine.

“Are there, uh, things that help when this happens? You seem real upset and if I can help you feel better, I’d like to.”

“T.V, the mindless kind.”

Duck holds out his hand, “C’mon, let’s go downstairs.”

Indrid settles on the violet couch, wrapping himself in a thick blanket as Duck flips channels. 

“You’re from West Virgina, right?”

“Yep.”

“Then you may be familiar with my patron. I don’t know his true name, but everyone just calls him mothman.”

Duck drops the remote.

“Mothman? As in Silver Bridge, Point Pleasant, TNT plant, and all that shit?”

“Yes.” Indrid says mildly. 

“Holy shit.” He fishes the remote from under the couch.

“That’s a remarkably succinct reaction.”

“Hush you, you know I ain’t a man of many words.”

“Duck, two days ago you talked for half an hour about Kudzu.” Indrid shoots him a teasing smile, and Duck elbows him lightly. 

“Oooh, a Halloween cooking championship! Let’s watch that.”

Duck sets the remote down, joins Indrid under the blanket when the taller man opens it for him.

“You doin anythin for Halloween?”

“No” Indrid sighs, “I love it, but after the ‘living pumpkin incident,’ parents stopped letting their children trick or treat here.”

“Hmmmmm” Duck rests his hand just beside Indrids’, strokes it absentmindedly with his pinkie “y’know, Indrid, I think I got a way to fix that…..”

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

Duck waves goodbye to the group of trick or treaters as they scurry back down the walkway. He has to hand it to Indrid: the man really has an eye for decoration.

The yard is strung with glowing cobwebs and purple lights, bats made of purple shadow and glitter flitting through the air.  The multitude of Jack’O Lanterns flicker in a rainbow of colors, thanks to Indrid doing an enchantment on the flames. 

Ducks house is equally festive, Indrid choosing orange lights and one (magically) large pumpkin to contrast with the dark wood of the building. Currently Aubrey (Dani’s wife) and her giant rabbit (Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD) are seated on Duck’s front step on candy duty. Duck had asked for his new friends help after realizing just how nervous Indrid was that something would go haywire, and decided it was best if he was there to keep him company.

It’s been a successful Halloween so far; no explosions, no disasters, no decorations accidentally coming to life. He and Indrid chat between visitors, The Creature from the Black Lagoon plays in the background, and both of them have eaten more candy than two grown men probably should. Not a single kid who’s come to the door seems afraid of Indrid. Some are curious, and some have parents that definitely watch them closely. But most are just happy to get candy.

Best of all, whenever they’re seated on the couch, or waiting to open the door, Indrid holds Ducks hand, or sighs happily when Duck rests his arm around his shoulder.

The groups are becoming less and less frequent, and stars peek out from behind the clouds, when Indrid turns to him.

“Thank you, Duck.”

“Hey, wasn’t gonna miss an excuse to hang out with you and poach your candy.”

Indrid chuckles, “Not just for that. For everything, for being kind, for getting to know me and not writing me off as wicked. I-” He falters, turns away suddenly.

Duck may not have foresight, but he’s perceptive all the same.

“Want me to finish that sentence for you?”

Indrid looks at him wide-eyed as the ranger steps into his space, “Please.”

“I wanna get to know you better.” Duck grins, moves to pull Indrid to him.

Indrid beats him to it, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. Ducks back hits the door, Indrids fingers digging into his hair. He holds him tight, and as demanding as his kisses are the taller man’s whole body is shaking like the last leaf on a tree.

When they pull apart, Indrid rests their foreheads together.

“Yes, Duck, I would very much like to get to know you better.”

Duck kisses him again, keeps him close as he whispers, “well, happy fuckin halloween to me.”

Indrid kisses his cheek, “Indeed.”

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

the handmaid’s tale 3.10

for some reason i thought that episode was the finale -- i think i forgot this show has longer seasons than 10 episodes? -- and i was like, “WHAT KIND OF ENDING WAS THAT??? don’t get me wrong, i love this vivaldi and muffins and june actually being happy aesthetic, but WHAT? we didn’t even SEE luke or moira or emily again!” but apparently there are still a few more weeks to go!!! so yay!!!

anyway: why was that episode good? why are we suddenly in good territory again? is it because harlots was so bad that there was no choice but for the balance to shift?

sentimental wench that i am, commander lawrence holding eleanor tenderly and telling her that she’s the love of his life and his only love really messed me up. oof, FEELINGS. :(

all the chats with the handmaids at the grocery store were great, although honestly -- can’t y’all even take stuff out of the freezer to project some normalcy?? there is nothing inconspicuous about three women just standing inside fridges for like five minutes straight! my headcanon for this season is that everyone in gilead is just getting really tired and doesn’t care anymore.

serena coming in first to covertly warn june and the lawrences that they were in the danger zone with the whole ceremony thing? yes.

serena making fred be a friggin’ spy against gilead (i think that’s what she was getting at?? either that or the two of them leaving? but it seemed more like the former?) = *chef’s kiss*. WEAR THE DRESS. PULL THE STRINGS.

also, i love how literally every time june is in the same area as her, you can tell serena is, like, So Attuned to june’s every movement. the yearning!!! the “that’s my one friend in the world and maybe the only person i like or have ever liked! i even don’t hate her when she talks about that time she recently stabbed me!!” pitiful desperation of it! it’s great.

also, i loved that little moment of serena and rita clearly worrying about june together while the menfolk were like “we’re mighty suspicious of this lawrence household!!!!” and the dudes not noticing. (am i ascribing too many good intentions to serena? sure, probably! do i care? NAW. i watch tv for FUN, son.)

(i am really curious if we’re ever going to see serena snap and lose it at fred, because i think there’s no way she can ever really forgive him for the ordering-her-finger-to-be-cut-off thing. i feel like that’s gonna come back and explode someday.)

june’s “at least it wasn’t you” burn at fred was the finest thing i have ever had the privilege of witnessing in m’damn life. elisabeth moss was really great in this episode. it was wonderful to get a break from the Give Me Emmys staring and just be reacquainted with what it’s like to enjoy june as a character.

[novamm66]

Red Sky in the Morning - Chapter 15 - Weigh Heigh

We are getting more away for the canon storyline and more into my own headcanon so this should be exciting.

This chapters name came from my one of my fav sea chants and my favourite version is below. ("It's only half you may ask. There is a reason *wink wink*)

Current favourite version: The Drunken Whaler Copilot Strategic Sound + Music

---

Met with V’s contact. will send report on Corpf C later. Hawke concerned about wardens. Going to meet with contact to learn more. Taking V, IB, & Sra.

—-

Like everywhere Kiaya went, Crestwood was in a state of disaster.

The journey there had been enjoyable. Hawke’s humour had fit right in with Bull and Sera, and they and Varric had tried to one-up each other’s stories all the way there. Kiaya had been glad to be left with her own thoughts, laughing along but with little to say.

The weather changed the closer to Crestwood they got, and Kiaya could feel a wrongness that set her teeth on edge. It was pouring and windy to the point of being miserable when they arrived at the first camp, and from there they could see the lake waters boiling with the effect of the fade rift deep below. It was infecting the water and rain, and it made Kiaya’s water magic sluggish and hard to cast.

Whether it was the fade magic or simply the rain itself, the group's mood shifted, and everyone became irritable and on edge. Hawke most of all. Meeting the other group of Wardens who were searching for Hawke’s contact had pushed the women over the edge, and she and Kiaya had been arguing ever since. The arguing didn’t stop upon discovering the dire straits the Crestwood townsfolk were facing. Currently, Sera and Bull were fighting alongside the villagers against the walking corpses at the gate while Hawke and Kiaya argued about what they should do next.

“We need to keep moving. we can come back after we find them,” Hawke said.

Kiaya sighed, this was a conversation that they had had a few times and she was tired of it. “Hawke, we can’t just leave these folks like this. We don’t even know if we can get to the meeting place. If the locals say we can't get there, they would likely know.”

Hawke snorted and waved her hand dismissively. “They probably haven’t even checked. And just because they can’t make it doesn’t mean we can’t.”

Kiaya lost her grip on her temper and she yanked a damp shirt out of her pack with too much force, breaking the bag’s drawstring. “Fuck.” Kiaya crossed to the fire and draped the shirt over the back of Varric’s chair to dry as much as possible before she had to put it on again. Then she turned to face Hawke as she ripped open the buttons and shucked off her soaked duster.

“I don’t get it, Hawke. How does someone with your reputation turn their back on people who need help?” Kiaya’s tone was accusing, and she regretted opening her mouth the moment she finished. But she met the eyes of the other woman, ignoring Varric’s scolding ‘Smudges’ from behind her.

Hawke’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t speak, the tension in the room thrumming in time with the rain beating on the roof. Kiaya locked her mouth shut, knowing if she said anything else it would only make things worse, and waited. She had hoped to get Hawke’s advice on the situation Kiaya found herself in, but that wasn’t likely now.

When Hawke finally spoke her voice was steady and low, like the growl of a cat “I’ll tell you what happened, Inquisitor.” The last word was spoken with a sneer.

“Everything I did was to protect my family, and it was all for nothing. It was my fault my sister got infected with the taint. While I was busy saving the city my mother was butchered. I barely managed to stop the mages and Templars from tearing apart what was left of the city after the Chantry exploded. But the moment I could not execute...” Hawke’s voice wavered then hardened. “The moment I could not execute one of my closest friends, someone who had saved my life countless times, I was chased out of my home. Again.”

“Hawke, I-“ but Kiaya was cut off by Hawke’s raised hand.

“The Hero of Ferelden is buried beneath a block of stone and I haven’t slept in the same bed twice in longer then I can remember.” Hawke’s voice softened, although her face remained hard.

“I am sorry for the position you are in. That mark pretty much puts you in the centre of all this shit. But I’ve given enough and I have to protect the only home I have left, and they are all in that cave.”

Hawke broke the stare she and Kiaya had been holding to cross over to the map on the table. Kiaya almost sagged, and she realized she was holding her breath.

Once Hawke had marked the map, she turned back and shouldered her pack. “Do what you have to do and meet me there. Be careful.” Hawke’s eyes rested first on Varric before she looked at Kiaya again. Her gaze was cool, but Kiaya could see sympathy underneath. “And don’t die.” She opened the door and was gone in a swirl of rain.

“You too, Hawke,” Varric called after her. Kiaya simply stared at the door.

It was a while before Varric spoke again. “Shirt’s dry.”

When Kiaya didn’t respond, Varric cleared his throat. “Smudges, you’re soaked. Get changed.” Kiaya felt her shirt hit her back. She caught it just before it hit the floor. Kiaya stripped off the wet shirt and slipped on the dry one. The warmed cotton was a simple comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. She fumbled doing up the shirt buttons one-handed, then turned back and hung the wet one up. Without looking at Varric, she crossed to Sera’s pack and pulled out the first clothes she found and hung those up as well. She repeated the process for Bull before Varric spoke again. “How ya doing, Smudges?”

“I’m-” Kiaya sat down in a chair across from him, elbows on her knees, hands clasped under her chin as she stared at her feet. “Feeling entirely too much.”

She dropped her head to rub at the sore muscles across the back of her neck. “Fuck me. Hawke must hate me now.”

“Naw, she likes you. I can tell.” Varric chuckled at the expression of disbelief on Kiaya’s face. “If she didn’t, she would have decked you.”

Kiaya couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m glad then. She would have to cream me.” Kiaya stood, stretched, then picked up her wet gear with a grimace. “Let’s go give the other two a chance to take a break, then we will make a plan for the Keep.”

“Great idea, Smudges.” Varric grinned at Kiaya grimace. He got to his feet and slung Bianca over his shoulder.

Kiaya stuck her tongue out at him as she pushed open the door and headed out into the rain.

—-

“Eggsuckingpissfucker!” Sera swore as she slipped and fell. “When it was raining, the mud washed off.”

“At least it’s warm.” Kiaya handed her a partially clean rag. “And just listen to those birds.”

“Lotsa birds means lotsa bugs.” Sera slapped the back of her neck.

They had successfully defeated the bandits that had taken over the keep, and had drained the lake to reach the rift in the caverns below. It had been a dank, slimy slog, and they were all exhausted. The better weather and safer roads made the journey to Hawke’s mark on the map uneventful and quick, but Kiaya knew her companions were eager to be done with this place and headed back to Skyhold. The hill and cave mouth showed no signs of any two-legged visitors; there was nothing around but brontos and birds.

“Keep your eyes open. We don’t know what’s waiting for us.” Kiaya said, making eye contact with Bull, Varric, and Sera in turn before Bull led the way into the cave.

The cave was dark and slippery and it narrowed quickly, and Bull had to stoop just to clear the ceiling so he and Kiaya switched and she took the lead, something the party normally avoided. She led the way until they reached a rough-hewn wall and door. Kiaya motioned for her companions to hold before gently pushing open the door and carefully slipping into the room beyond.

Two paces in and a magical force blew past her, causing her eyes to feel gritty and slamming the door shut, cutting her off from the others. The next thing Kiaya knew, she was flung into a cave wall, a gauntleted hand tight around her throat.

“Twitch and I kill you.”

Kiaya couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. Hitting the wall had knocked the air out of her, and she was having trouble filling her lungs again. Black dots swam in her vision, and all she could do was stare at her attacker as she gasped like a fish.

Shockingly white hair, glowing tattoos, and the greenest eyes she had ever seen were the only details her scrambled mind could take in as she tried to make her eyes focus and her lungs work. Instinctually, she had no doubt he meant what he said.

Kiaya blinked as Hawke suddenly appeared behind him. “Fen, put the nice lady down or I might have to let Varric shoot you.”

—-

“Where’d Smudges go?” Varric asked as he packed away the cards. It had been an enjoyable evening, for him at least: once the excitement of their arrival had simmered down and the business talk about the Wardens had petered out. It had been good for him to be with his old friends again, tense or not. Broody and Blondie had never really moved past ‘barely civil’ after Kirkwall and that hadn’t seemed to change, but the three wardens, Hawke, and Fenris seemed to make it work. Bull could read and blend into any group, and Sera could enjoy any situation with cards and drink.

Varric felt a stab of guilt that he hadn’t noticed earlier that Kiaya was gone.

“Relax, Varric. She hasn’t gone far.” Bull answered. He motioned to where her pack sat, sketchbook balanced on top.

Varric nodded, focusing again on the cards in his hands. He hadn’t realized his mouth had opened until he heard his voice. “That was a shit move you pulled earlier, Hawke, no matter how you and Kiaya left things before.”

“I know.” Hawke at least had the decency to look a little guilty from where she sat next to Fenris. “Sorry.”

“Wrong person to apologize to, Marion.” Bethany didn’t look up from the mending in her lap.

“I know that, too.” Hawke rolled her eyes. “You want me to find her now?”

“Wait until morning. I will go and check on her. I want some air before bed anyway.” Bethany shared a knowing look with Varric as she spoke, and he smiled his gratitude.

“Great.” Hawke glided smoothly to her feet, pulling Fenris up after her. “We’re going to bed.”

“Don’t forget: sound carries in here,” Bethany fired over her shoulder.

—-

Kiaya wasn’t interested in cards. She had barely been able to sit still long enough to pretend to eat. She had tried to practise her writing, but without a book for a guide or someone to help her it was a lost cause, and she had given up in frustration. Feeling too hot and closed-in, she slipped from the cave.

Kiaya had decided to agree to be Inquisitor. It was the right thing to do, she knew that, but just the thought brought a crippling wave of panic.

I have to get my shit together before I can face anything.

The cooler air and the darkness of the moonless night helped, but not much. Kiaya paced in the dark, losing track of time. She couldn’t get her heart to slow down, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Her skin felt too tight, hot, and itchy, and she couldn’t stop moving. All the while her mind raced over every bad thing that had happened and every horrible one that possibly could. One knee gave out and she almost fell. After that she sat on the ground, rocked in place, eyes staring unseeing across the black plain, simply trying to unweave the mess of thoughts in her head.

She didn’t look up when footsteps echoed out of the cave, or when a shadow separated from the darkness and spoke. “Lady Trevelyan. May I join you?”

Kiaya blinked and stared up in surprise at Warden Hawke before nodding.

“Please.” Kiaya had to stop and swallow, her throat too dry. “Please call me Kiaya.”

The other woman sat on a boulder and seemed content to just look at the stars. Which was good for Kiaya. She hadn’t quite gotten herself under control, and if she opened her mouth much more she might bawl. Bethany Hawke’s quiet company was a balm, and Kiaya was able to slow down her breathing, and her rocking becoming more gentle until she stopped.

“Thank you, Warden.” Kiaya’s voice was still shaky, but it worked.

“Bethany, please.” The other mage dropped her gaze from the sky. “I was going to see if you had more questions, but it was just such a lovely night to sit and look at the sky.”

Kiaya could hear understanding and sympathy in Bethany’s voice. “I may later, but not at the moment. I’m a bit...” Kiaya cursed herself, her voice still sounding watery.

“Overwhelmed?” Bethany said gently.

Kiaya laughed quietly. It sounded bitter to her own ears. “I would settle for ‘overwhelmed’ right now.”

“All you have to do is save the world one day at a time.” Bethany winked.

This time Kiaya’s laugh was less forced. “Oh, well when you put it like that…”

The mark flared, and Kiaya choked on a curse as pain shot up her arm. She wasn’t expecting it, which always seemed to make it worse. The world around them was washed in green light until she clamped her hand firmly to her thigh and picked up her discarded gloves.

“I used to hate gloves, still do really, but I hate having a green beacon on my hand more.” Kiaya struggled to get the fingerless glove on her left hand while the muscles spasmed and the mark crackled.

“Do the gloves help?”

“Only with not glowing in the dark. The pain will lessen.” Kiaya sighed. “Eventually.”

“We saw a rift across the plain, by the farmhouses. Could it be reacting to that from here?” Bethany asked with concern.

“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

Both women’s heads snapped up and turned towards a faint sound from the hillside below. They were immediately on their feet, slipping deeper into the shadow of the cave mouth. It was still pitch black, the stars not bright enough to light the ground. Kiaya wasn’t sure, but it had sounded like the scrapping of metal on stone.

“Are you armed?” Bethany’s voice was little more than a breath in Kiaya’s ear.

“Beyond my magic, no.” Kiaya exhaled back. The only thing she had on her was a boot knife.

Bethany was silently bringing her staff to bear. “Anders and I have set traps. He will know if any trip. What do you think? Are we jumping at brontos?”

“I don’t think so,” Kiaya answered slowly, eyes and ears alert for any sign of movement in the black. The mark was still twitching and sparking under her glove, and she was getting that prickly feeling on the back of her neck that she was starting to loathe. Kiaya started marshalling her mana, a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

A wall of fire exploded at the bottom of the slope below. A wave of heat broke over the barrier Kiaya had thrown up, the change in the light making her eyes water. She could see eight moving shapes backlit by the fire before arrows clattered against the far side of the cave and she ducked her head. She couldn’t tell for certain how many archers there were, or if there were more attackers beyond the fire.

Bethany strode forward to meet the closest group with her staff in one hand and a spirit blade appearing in the other. Light from her staff glinted off of the red crystals that were growing out of the Templars faces. Kiaya quickly filled the air with fog and water to throw off the archers’ aim. She couldn’t see to hit them beyond the shimmering heat of the fire. She worked to maintain the cover while firing frozen bolts to distract and slow the Templars advancing on Bethany.

They needed time. Both mages would run out of mana before help arrived and without magic, they wouldn’t have a chance.

“Fall back to me, Warden!” Kiaya called above the noise of fighting and the roar of the fire.

Kiaya saw Bethany nod acknowledgement before she blasted the fighters near her back down the hill. She whirled and began running back up the short distance to where Kiaya stood.

Kiaya’s fog was disappearing; she needed all the mana she could get. Her eyes were peeled, watching for arrows in the mist. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a waver in the air, too far from the fire to be heat haze.

“Down, Bethany!” Kiaya shouted.

Bethany didn’t hesitate or look around but hit the ground immediately, throwing herself forward and almost landing at Kiaya’s feet. Kiaya released all of her power into a blast of water and ice that formed a wall curved over the cave mouth.

“We’re safe, for the moment.” Kiaya panted, offering her hand to the woman at her feet.

“Thank you,” Bethany gasped as she stared at the frozen, skewered, and very dead red templar assassin that had been right behind her.

Kiaya’s head was swimming. She could hear the pounding feet of their friends getting closer, meaning she had bought them enough time. But her mana was low enough that she might black out. Bethany caught her as Kiaya swayed on her feet.

“We need to get out of the way.” Kiaya’s words were slurred. Don’t faint, don’t faint, she chanted to herself.

“Out of the way of what?” Bethany’s question was answered by the clatter of an arrow that had found a hole.

“That,” Kiaya swallowed, “The wall is starting to break as well, but mostly, Bull won’t stop until he hits something bigger than him.”

Her words were punctuated by Bull pounding into view, a Qunari war cry echoing off the rock. He didn’t slow down as he approached the ice, slamming into and through it with the force of a charging bronto. Fenris was hot on his heels with the others not far behind.

With everyone involved in the skirmish, it was short work, and by the time they were done Kiaya no longer felt as wobbly as she had been as they all returned to the mouth of the cave.

“Shit, Smudges, you look like only slightly better then they do,” Varric said waving vaguely at the corpses down the hill.

“Thanks.” Kiaya smiled weakly. “I’m fine, nothing some sleep won’t cure.”

“You shouldn’t have been alone or unarmed.” Hawke sounded annoyed and angry but before Kiaya’s tired brain could reply, Bethany beat her to it.

“She wasn’t unarmed. She’s a mage, and if not for her I would be sliced to ribbons right now.” Bethany scolded. “Now I am taking Kiaya in for a sleeping draft. You clean this up.”

“You have to burn the bodies. And don’t touch the lyrium crystals.” Kiaya said.

“We know, Boss.” Bull replied. Kiaya could practically hear him rolling his eye. “Go, before you fall over.”

Kiaya could only nod. She wasn’t shaking anymore, but the bone-deep tiredness from using most of her mana too quickly was dragging her eyelids down.

“Beth, do you need me?”

“No, help them here. I’ve got the Herald,” Bethany answered. Kiaya hadn’t even noticed Anders standing next to them. It was the first words he had spoken since they had arrived.

The other mage nodded, reaching out to touch her arm before leaving them.

The two women turned and headed into the cave. Kiaya concentrated on not tripping over her own feet, grateful for Bethany’s arm around her waist guiding her.

“Well, you have convinced me,” said Bethany.

Kiaya tried to shake off her stupor “Of what?”

“That you can save the world.”

Kiaya groaned, then laughed. “One day at a time?”

Bethany smiled. “Exactly.”

—-

Thanks for reading!

You can find me on AO3 here.

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

Your blog is amazing, I've just spent several hours reading through everything you written. Could you write about John with epilepsy? My husband has it and it can super stressful to deal with

Jumping.

That’s what John called the phenomenon of absence seizures. While his brain paused, rendering him unconscious, the world kept going. When he came to just seconds later, people and things have moved considerably. Or jumped.

Like that time Freddie was laughing at a joke and then seconds later was halfway across the room, drinking water. Or the time Brian was discussing a song and seconds later, was quiet, looking at his fingernails.

Jumping or absence seizures weren’t so bad. John would freeze up for a few seconds but wake up and immediately recover, leaving him able to do pretty much anything he wanted to. Stairs were daunting when the episodes were frequent, but other than that, no big deal.

That was the part of his epilepsy he didn’t care too much for. Easy to handle, and most importantly, easy for others to handle. ‘Spacing out’ was of no concern to those around him. Just make sure John doesn’t fall over or slip if you notice he’s having an episode, but really, it’s a nonissue.

The issue was the type of seizures that popped into everyone’s mind when they saw the word Epilepsy.

John was proud to say his convulsive seizures happened far and few in between. Only in times of stress did he really have to worry about an episode.

And who knew being in an internationally famous band was stressful?

“That sounds hideous,” Roger said, voice rising in pitch as the tensions in the recording studio grew.

“Maybe to you, but that’s how I wrote it and it sounds nice,” Brian snapped, eyes narrowed at the drummer who sat tall on his stool.

“It could afford to be quieter,” Freddie threw into the debate, not necessarily wanting to get in the midst of a Roger-Brian spat. They were ugly.

“Oh fuck getting quiet. It’s atrocious and should be cut entirely! Have you all lost your bloody ears?” Roger erupted, throwing his drum sticks on the floor.

All the while, John was in a corner, not saying a single thing. He didn’t like fighting, really. Not unless he found it imperative. He preferred to let the others toss hands while he just watched. 

Today he was tired though. The whole entire session had been nothing more than petty fights and venomous quips, for hours. The sun had long since set and they’ve been at it since 12pm. Not only was he plagued with a significant annoyance, he was hungry as all hell.

If only the other 3 could just shut up and play whats on the paper, they could all be home now.

But nooo. Roger always has to say something and Brian has to be the ass he is and Freddie just revels in fanning the flames.

John rolled his eyes as they all started getting into it for what seemed like the 40th time. Bite your tongue, John....

Not today!

“Can you all please shut the hell up and either play what’s on the goddamn papers or can we all just go home already?” he exploded, not even realizing all those words had erupted from his mouth.

Everyone went wide eyed, a few mouths popping open into surprised ‘o’s. You’d think that would be enough to get them all to act like adults but John had unwittingly entered his name into the match.

“Oh, so then you agree the section is good, Deacy?” Brian was the first to pipe up, finding the outburst to be a point for his team.

“That is not what he meant and you know it, you bastard!” Roger yelled incredulously.

Most people would’ve ripped their hair out from the idiocy, but John was busy with the sudden feeling of his fingers breaking.

Every joint felt like it had snapped in a grotesque manner, a familiar and hot pain searing from his digits all the way into his core.  His stomach erupted in butterflies, the one you get not after a kiss but when your roller coaster is about to drop from it’s highest peak.

And then, John didn’t feel anything.

♚

“You two ne- oh shit!” Freddie yelped when they all heard a thump and the chaotic strumming of bass strings.

John was on the ground in a heap, body starting to shake. 

This wasn’t any of their first rodeos, so they knew the drill. Didn’t make it any less scary.

Before the seizing got bad, they took off his bass, putting it aside. Roger made busy work of clearing the area around John, whose eyes were rolled back, foam already frothing at the mouth.

Brian tasked himself with watching the clock. No more than 5 minutes, he reminded himself. If John seized for longer, they needed to call an ambulance. 

Freddie put a jacket under John’s head just in time for the thrashing to grow particularly violent. His limbs tightened and relaxed, flailed and flopped. His head wouldn’t stop jerking from side to side, his torso popping off the ground in a manner that looked painful.

Of course, it wasn’t painful. It was something that took a few episodes for them to solidify. John was completely unconscious and couldn’t feel a single thing. There was no need to try and comfort him during an active seizure. They’d only be putting him or themselves in danger.

It still was a hard thing to feel in their hearts, watching as his lips turned blue or he gasped for air. They all were just thankful he wasn’t awake to experience it.

It was only 2 minutes and 27 seconds exactly, according to Brian, when John finally stopped. He went limp like a ragdoll on the carpet and that’s when they all approached him.

Freddie mopped up the sweat and spit with a towel. Roger petted his hair, talking to John to get him to wake up and Brian was rubbing John’s knee.

John was always bad at waking up. He took an hour or more to have complete clarity. He’d be in a daze or state of confusion for so long, mumbling the whole time about needing sleep.

They all knew this naturally and just needed John to show that he was okay before he was allowed to sleep.

“Wake up sweet boy,” Roger cooed as the youngest murmured absolute nonsense. 

“Yes, wake up, sweetheart. You're safe and fine. Just wake up so we know you’re well, alright, Deacy?” Freddie said, now smoothing circles over John’s chest. 

It wasn’t 20 minutes before John said anything intelligible.

“Floor,” he slurred.

“You’re on the floor, John. You had a seizure. Are you with us?” Brian chimed in, a break from all the sweet talk to two mother hens were doing.

“Seizure?” John groaned. He still was far from being 100% conscious but he seemed to be coming around a lot faster than usual.

“Yes, mate. You had a seizure. Everything is alright though. Not even a bruise on you,” Roger answered, giving his cheeks some light smacks to see if that’d rouse him up faster.

“Sleep,” was John’s last words before the rotter fell asleep. 

♚

“Careful, Deacy, careful,” the other 3 said as they helped a considerably awake John to his feet.

His eyes were alert, looking around the room squinted, as if trying to piece together how he wound up convulsing on the floor.

Once stood up, John leaned against Freddie who had his arms wrapped around the bassist tightly. He let out a sigh and crinkled his nose, the post-seizure feel being just slightly better than having a full blown flu.

His head pounded. His muscles were sore and some pulled. His brain still felt wacky and all he wanted was to sleep for a week straight.

Freddie asked if he felt safe to go home or if he needed to go to hospital. No matter how miserable a seizure was, this was pretty normal in terms of an episode. So no doctors, just a king sized mattress, please.

Being the concerned friends they were, they all drove John home, led him into bed and tucked him in. It wasn’t necessary, but they stayed a few hours afterwards, making sure he was okay and didn’t seize again. Maybe concerned friends wasn’t the right word.

More like guilty.

They knew stress was John’s biggest trigger, but selfishly they had all bickered like children all day, even when it was apparent he was getting weary. And for what? For John to suffer.

They all came to that realization quietly, twiddling their thumbs and anxiously twirling their hair. 

When they all met up again at John’s house the next morning, that was the first thing out of their mouths. An apology.

John sat up in bed, craving at least another 24 hours more of sleep, but he listened, nodding every so often as his bandmates confessed their sins.

He put on one of his infamous Deacy smiles, lips tucked in and eye crinkles deep and said, “It’s alright, guys. I should’ve said something, y’know? It’s not your faults.”

Roger shook his head, a hand squeezing John’s shoulders. “Naw, it’s our faults too. We never wanna be the reason you drop like that again. We’ll promise to be more civil,” he said, blue eyes sad.

There was nothing for him to be mad about, but he accepted their apology, shrugging off last night’s fiasco. 

Well, almost.

“Now that I am saying things I feel, I do have something to tell you all. Brian, that section you want is horrid,”

“Oh go to hell, John,”

[dietaku]

Amazing Quest 1: Chapter 3.5

The second half of Amazing Quest’s third chapter. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 3.5: We're back! (A Dinosaur Genocide Story) Hiro: So, now we're in the Valley of Giants. I wonder why they call it that? Ozma: Maybe because everything is REALLY big here? Kimyawa: Or, maybe there's a race of cannibalistic giants who eat people, and the people here have to live in a giant walled city to survive! Hiro: Naw, that'd be stupid. All joking aside, the Valley of Giants is a tough area. the enemies here all have the "Giant" trait, making their physical stats massive, and many (Like the Giant Nautilus, Salamand, and Jeffish) all have large magic defense as well. The valley leads to the north, where a walled city resides. Ozma: Oh, my... Kimyawa: HAHAHA! I TOLD YOU! Hiro: Sonnuvabitch.... Soldier on the Wall: HELLO? ARE YOU ALL DINOSAURS? Ozma: Yes! Hiro: NO! Ozma: I'm a sexual tyrannosaurus! Hiro: Ignoring that for a moment, no, we're not dinosaurs. Why do you ask? Soldier: OH, BECAUSE OUR CITY IS CONSTANTLY AT WAR WITH THE DINOSAURS. THEY WANT OUR DIAMONDIUM THAT THEY USE FOR THEIR MACHINES! Hiro: Dinosaurs have machines? Soldier: I'M GOING TO ASSUME YOU ALL AREN'T DINOSAURS. DINOSAURS WOULD KNOW THEY HAVE MACHINES. The gate then opens and you can enter the stronghold of humanity, Wall City. --Wall City-- The people in Wall City are furtive and scared. It seems the the Dinosaurs attacking is a regular occurrence, and when they don't outright eat their captives, they tend to haul them off for god knows what. However, talking to a portly man in the bar yields this: Man: Man, that poncy young man sure did pay well. Kimyawa: Excuse me, did you say poncy? How poncy was this man? Man: He made me feel positively secure in my masculinity. Kimyawa: Uh... Man: I like little boys, just to be clear. Kimyawa: There's not doubting it, then. That's got to be my nii-san! Hiro: Just what kind of man is this brother of yours? Kimyawa: He's a great man! Man: I'd doubt the MAN bit of that, but, he left, saying he's gonna go to the contested zone. Kimyawa: Contested zone? Man: The dinosaurs took control of a section of the outer wall on the eastern side. That section of the city is now being fought over by the Dinosaurs and the Army. Hiro: Kimyawa, I... Kimyawa: He's fine, I'm sure of it. Nii-san is a kenjutsu master! Hiro: And I sure know what THAT is... Head to the eastern side of the city, and an Army blockade is in your way... Soldier: Halt! Civilians can't get through! This area is dangerous! Hiro: Well... You can then pick either Hiro, Ozma or Kimyawa... If You chose Hiro: Hiro: Pretty please? Soldier: D'aaaaw, you sure are a cutie. Sure, if you REALLY want to. It'd be a shame if you got eaten, though. Ozma: (Giggles) Hiro: (Is it my braids?) If You chose Ozma: Ozma: Can we go through, pleeeeeeeeeease? (She leans over, revealing her toned and ripped cleavage) Soldier: AAAAAAAAAAAAACK! (Falls over, clutching his heart) Ozma: Why, I never! Hiro: Hahahaha If You chose Kimyawa: Kimyawa: Onegai, can we pleeeeeeeeease get past? My puppy got lost down a drain pipe, and I would REALLY appreciate it if such a strong, kind man like yourself can help me? (She bends all the way over, leaving what little of her breasts not covered to be on display now.) Soldier: I, uh... Kimyawa: It's fine... (Putting his hand on her bosom) Can you feel my urgent plea? Soldier: (Vomits violently) OH GOD, I TOUCHED A GIRL. OH GOD....(He then collapses) Kimyawa: YATTA! I killed another man with my womanly charms! Hiro: Is that what you call that? In any way you choose, you'll get to enter the contested zone, and what a contested zone it is! The entire thing is covered in craters and the enemies now include Dinosaur Soldiers, Wexler Riders, and Triswordatops. The encounter rate is also stupidly high as well, but this serves to level you up quicker. Now, there are three things you can do here. The first is the northeast, where there's a locked door in the remains of the wall, a locked bunker to the north, and to the south east... Purple-Haired Man: (Dashes past three Dinosaur Soldiers, who then explode) No Probleeeeeeeeeeeeem! Kimyawa: Nii-san! Purple-Haired Man: Oh, Kimyawa, you're here, too. And you found some helpers. I'm trying to find the treasure of our clan. I tracked it to this city, but it seems like the coordinate I was given is in this place. Oh well. Kimyawa: Nii-san, these people and I have been worried sick about you! We need to fight the Dark Puddings, not prance about! Hiro: Wait, we do care? Kimyawa: YES! Loyroll: Well, I DO like prancing, but this is important, Kimyawa. It's not just for the clan, but also for me. I need to...(Preens his hair) Feel my confidence boosted by getting this. Ozma: So romantic~ Hiro: Gross. Anyways, I suppose we ought to help you... Loyroll: I, Loyroll, the master swordsman, will take your help, Pudding! Hiro: (How did he know that?) Loyroll is an interesting and VERY good character. He uses swords like several other characters, but his skills are based off the attack of the weapon he's using. In addition, he doesn't use swords bought from stores. Rather, outside of battle, you pay money to him to use one of his copious collection of blades. I got him to the Silver Saber, his sixth sword, before moving on. Another thing you'll notice, is that he starts at level 5, about twenty levels lower than Hiro and the others at this point. No matter. Proceed to the locked door at the wall, and you'll receive another cut-scene. Loyroll: (Slices the door) The key I have is reacting to this place. The weapon must be nearby! Enter the broken door, and you'll enter a series of catacombs. Random encounters continue on here, but press on until you get to the third floor, where a series of push tiles will warp you around. Continue on as best you can, until you find an outcropping with a drop all around it. In the middle of this is a chest.  Loyroll: (Opens the chest. Inside is a mirror) This....It all makes sense now! The one I should trust in is-- (The mirror flashes and a beam of light blasts Loyroll in the face, vaporizing a hole in the ceiling) Kimyawa: Nii-san! Are you alright? Loyroll: (His face is now comically blackened) Cough, cough I'm fine. I guess our ancestors had a sense of humor to them. Hiro: You sure it's not JUST your ancestors? (Loyroll gains confidence!) This new item, the Mirror of Kii, is a powerful infinite use attack item. Use it in battle and it will either blast a foe for heavy light damage, or spray lasers at all enemies for medium light damage. The catch? Only Kimyawa or Loyroll can use it. I prefer to let Kimyawa use it, as Loyroll hits hard enough as is. With the Mirror in our possession, continue to the other locked bunker, and do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, go to the southeast again. Hiro: I-I can feel something inside... (He tests the door, which opens) (Inside is a large cloaked figure in a magic circle) Figure: HIRO OF THE LIGHT PUDDINGS. MANY PLACE THEIR HOPES ON YOU. I CAN UNLOCK THE POTENTIAL HIDDEN IN YOUR GENES. BUT, YOU MUST BE READY. Hiro: Fine, I accept. My true potential can't be any worse than my weak Pudding powers, nayways. Figure: (Unveils his form as a giant Flan) VERY WELL... --Boss Battle!-- Saint Flavian x1 LP: 6500 MP: 700 Saint Flavian, despite his high HP, isn't hard. He often resorts to “Jiggle,” a minor multi-hit physical move. Even though you only have Hiro for this battle, it really isn't that hard, provided you keep track of your LP. --Boss Battle!-- Saint Flavian: EXCELLENT. NOW, THE LAST TEST. Hiro: Wait, there's more? Saint Flavian: INDEED. I WILL NOW TAKE THE LIFE OF YOUR WOMAN. IS THIS AN ACCEPTABLE COST FOR POWER? Ozma: (Covers her blushing face) O-oh my! Hiro: O-Ozma? NEVER! Saint Flavian: VERY WELL. WHAT OF YOUR CONCUBINE WHO CANNOT KEEP HER CHEST COVERED? MAY I SLAY HER TO GRANT YOU POWER? Hiro: (Blushes) No! Kimyawa is my friend! Kimyawa: HAI! Tomodachi desu! Saint Flavian: ACCEPTABLE. WHAT OF YOUR FLAMBOYANT COMPANION? MAY I KILL HIM IN ORDER TO UNLOCK YOUR TRUE POTENTIAL? Loyroll: Hehe, I am an acceptable sacrifice, am I not? Kimyawa: Nii-san! Hiro: (Sighs) No, not even Loyroll. Look. I'd rather keep myself weak if it means killing someone to get stronger. Saint Flavian: INDEED. YOUR COMPANIONS ARE YOUR TRUE STRENGTH, HIRO. DARK PUDDINGS REVEL IN THEMSELVES AND FORGET OTHERS. LIGHT PUDDINGS EMBRACE OTHERS AND LIVE FOR THEIR SAKE. YOU ARE NO ACCIDENT, BUT A BLESSING. LIVE AS THE TRUE SAVIOR YOU ARE... (Saint Flavian disappears, and Hiro learns the Combo-Swirl Pudding form!) Hiro: S-such power! HAHAHAHAHA! Loyroll: Great, he's lost it. Hiro: I'll show them! I'll show them all! (Hiro strides out of the room, and you are returned outside) NOW, you can enter the southeast. There, a large regiment of Dinosaur Soldiers and a large red dinosaur in a suit of armor are present. Red Dinosaur: GENTLESAURS! We are on the cusp of victory! Humanity is on the brink of defeat, and as the Pudding tribes rip each other to shreds, WE will rise above! COME! The Coup De Grace awaits! Hiro: Um, hello? Did you say Humanity is finished? Red Dinosaur: INDEED! I, Terror Saurus Rex, will be your undoing! Dinosaurs! ATTACK! --Boss Battle!-- Dinsoaur Paladins x6 LP: 1000 Each MP: 250 Each This isn't a hard boss at all. It's largely there as a tutorial fight for the Combo-Swirl form. You pick one character, and get an amalgamated form based on the character you're combining wit5h. Ozma grants you massive strength bonuses and an affinity for powerful physical moves. Kimyawa's grants high speed and a penchant for wind-based area attacks. Loyroll has middling attack and defense, but gives you regeneration and the ability to use his sword specials. Destroy them as you see fit. --Boss Battle!-- Terror Saurus: I-impossible! Dinosaurs Retreat! Humanity is not as weak as we imagined! (The Dinosaurs all flee behind Terror Saurus) Soldier: Hooray! The Puddings have saved us! General: Surely, Lord Pudding, you will surely take the fight to the Dinosaurs! Loyroll: Of course we will. After all, no one can match OUR tempo! Haha, all those Dinosaurs will have sore bottoms after WE'RE done with them! Hiro: You need to stop talking. Ozma: But we SHOULD help them! Hiro: (Sigh) FINE, fine, we'll do it (The soldiers cheer) Exit the city from the hole in the wall, and head northeast, following the valley. Soon, you'll find a large floating fortress hovering over a section of the ocean. This is where yo uwant to go; the Terror Palace. --Terror Palace-- The entire area is filled with dark corners, red flames and bone ornaments. It also has these weird geenrators. Breaking them opens the doors, and replenishes a bit of MP. This is how you progress through the palace. The best thing to do is go down first, as the bottom level has a series of weapons, such as the Grim Gauntlets and Grave Cleaver for Ozma and Hiro, respectively. You also can talk to some captives in a cage, particularly one mermaid, who seems surly about her stolen goods. Was that what we took? Oops.Well, in any case, now ascend the tower. At the top, you'll see Terror Saurus Rex and a new super-dinosaur. Terror Saurus Rex: We have alerted the Puddings to our presence. No choice but to use you, Beamchiosaurus. Beamchiosaurus: BEEEEEEEEAMUU! Terror Saurus: Indeed! Raze that filthy town to the ground! (The Beamchiosaurus begins to charge energy into its head, but Loyroll raises the Mirror of Kii and the Beamchiosaurus' laser attack is deflected back, ripping a chunk out of its shoulder.) Terror Saurus: NO! NOT AGAIN! --Boss Battle!-- Terror Saurus Rex x1 Beamchiosaurus x1 Terror Saurus LP: 3500 MP: 1000 Beamchiosaurus LP: 6000 MP: 700 This fight is the hardest up to this point, and for good reason. Terror Saurus will repeatedly use stat raising spells, such as Ox Build, Fox Raise, Owl Upper, and the like to raise Beamchiosaurus' defenses and attack, while Beamchiosaurus charges' its eye cannons. Thus, your priority should be to use Combo-Swirl form on Kimyawa or Ozma, and then proceed to attack with either the Mirror of Kii or, if you have it, Bennie Jet with Loyroll. Once Terror Saurus is defeated, then the Beamchiosaurus will go berserk, ceasing its charge action to just smash the party randomly. Hang in there, and you can do it! --Boss Battle!-- Terror Saurus: N-no...Is this the Will of the Universe? Will we always be the butt of everyone's jokes? Loyroll: You merely cannot keep up with the tempo of our will, Dinosaurs. Now, die, kindly, please. (Loyroll takes the Mirror of Kii and raises it, blasting the Terror Palace. The entire palace crumbles and finally explodes, hurling the party into the air.) Loyroll: Well, I didn't expect that to happen. Hiro: WELL, WHAT DID YOU EXPE-- (The party crashes into the water, as the mermaid from before swims after them, and picks them all up...)

[darkhymns-fic]

So a DJ and an MC Meet on a Mountain... Take 2

There's only one person Marina wants to start a band with.

Fandom: Splatoon Characters/Pairing: Pearl/Marina Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3 Notes: Follow-up chapter written by Sky!

Previous Chapter

“Yo, yo, I’m Pearl, what’s the dealio, you think you’re something? You’re just keel haul, yo!” Pearl shouted into the wind. She let out a sigh. “Man, that was whack.”

Marina had been waiting for this moment! She’d come back to Mount Nantai every day for the past week, trekking up the winding paths, getting a lot sweatier than she’d like to admit, and hoping she’d see that girl again.

She’d been in Inkopolis for a few days, but it was frightening. There were so many squidlings, so many buildings, so many people that were not… her people. They didn’t seem so different, yet still she knew they way they stared at her, she felt the way they stared at her. Her clothes weren’t right, her hair wasn’t right, her way of speaking wasn’t right. Not to mention she had nowhere to be, had no money to her name.

Out here in the open, away from everything, away from everyone she felt safe. Safe, but lonely. That Pearl girl, she didn’t make Marina feel uncomfortable, she didn’t feel nervous around Pearl. What was it about her? Was it her short stature? Was it her cute kid-like voice? Or maybe it was just her blunt personality? Marina wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t stay quiet, she didn’t want to sit in the shadows anymore. She wanted to talk to someone again. She couldn’t talk to anyone else but her.

“Hey! Hello!” Marina called out timidly, tapping the hopping mad Pearl’s shoulder. “It’s, um, me again!”

Pearl’s little body instantly bounced away in fright, her crown nearly toppling off her head. “WHOA, DUDE,” she screeched. “You can, like, NOT sneak up on me, okay!?” She was practically wheezing, her legs trembling. “I, I would have, like,” She needed time to catch her breath. “I could have splatted you, bro!”

Marina could only smile. It felt wrong, but she couldn’t help it. “Sorry.” She laughed.

Pearl frowned hard. Her stubby legs trembled, but not because of fear anymore. “Yo, you think I’m a joke?! Think I don’t go for broke?! You best step off before I blend you into an egg yolk! I’ll ink ya up to your tentacles, I’ll leave ya dry and feed ya to the gulls! You think you’re so hot, tall, dark and handsome? I’ll stuff you in my closet and hold you for ransom!”

Marina couldn’t hold her smile back. It had been a week since she had smiled again, and she wouldn’t lose it. She was desperate to hold onto that feeling. This girl was so spunky, so bouncy, so bubbly, yet somehow even while threatening to kidnap and splat her, Marina wasn’t afraid?

“That was amazing!” Marina laughed, her cheeks hurting from smiling so much. “Did you think up all of that on the spot? Although, I think maybe drop that egg line.”

Pearl glared, keeping silent for a moment, wind blowing through her short tentacle hair. “Yeah, you right,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve been spittin’ mad whack rhymes lately. Like I got some kinda mind virus or something.”

Marina felt the tightness of her goggles suddenly, straining, pressing against her. “Yeah. I know that feeling.” She paused, afraid to say too much. “But everything else was mad fresh!”

“You really think so? For eel?”

If anyone else had said those lines to her, if anyone else had been talking to her, she would have said no. But something about the way she said it, the way she was so animated, the way her voice cracked as she screamed it, it sounded so… cute? But at the same time, it was cool. Like, really cool. Like, she didn’t care what anyone thought of her! Marina envied that. She wanted to feel like that.

“Damn straight!” Marina said awkwardly. It still took some getting used to. But she wanted to say it!

It was Pearl’s turn to laugh this time. “Girl, you’re weird! But I like that ‘bout you. You got like, you got just something weird goin’ on…” She motioned with her hands towards Marina’s body and stared hard, inspecting again. “But I like it! Makes the ink flow, knawmsayin?” She poked at her big head and grinned. “Like, you so weird, but it makes me think, yo.”

She wasn’t sure what took over her at that moment. Pearl made her feel comfortable, made her feel like she could say anything. So she just said it. Without thinking.

“Yeah, bet that doesn’t happen too often, huh?” Marina laughed. Almost instantly after, she felt a bolt of lightning run down where her spine would be if she had one. Oh, no, what are you doing? Why are you insulting her?! Her ink froze, her body went cold. She was about to lose her only chance at a friend. “I am so sor-”

“Sick comeback!” Pearl shouted, an eager smile across her lips. “You ain’t as limp as you look! You got some teeth under those tentacles, don’t ya?”

Images of heavy machinery and cold deadly weapons rushed past her mind. She didn’t want to think about that. Marina smiled sheepishly. “Ahah, I guess so?”

Pearl crossed her arms, as if expecting more. “Ya know, shame you’re not like… a musician or anything. Talkin’ to you is nice and all, and you got some mad weird style, but….”

Her heart almost exploded out of her chest. She didn’t think she’d get the chance! She didn’t think she’d be able to bring it up! She had to!

“Actually, I’ve been working on-”

 “Shame! Gotta go!” Pearl shrugged, already walking backwards down the hill.

“Wait! Pearl, but!”

“Wish I could! I gotta gig to get to! And I need to look fresh! Yo, MC Princess needs all the work she can get, ya know?” She winked, and finger gunned as she slowly walked below the hills’ view. It was an image Marina would not be able to forget. “See ya later, Marina!”

She should have chased after her. Marina should have made her listen. But… There was always next time. Right?

It wasn’t long before Pearl was back again. It was only a few days this time as opposed to a week. Marina felt that rush of adrenaline at the sight of her, how the sunset sparkled off her big white head, how her crown lit up like flame. This was the only time Marina could speak, the only time that mattered.

“Yo yo yo, Marina!” Pearl laughed. “Here again! Figured ya would be.” She paused. “Still kinda weird you always show up here though.”

“You could always go somewhere else, you know,” Marina said back, a sassy smile across her lips. Her ink froze again, as somewhere dark inside her dreaded that Pearl would do just that and leave her all alone up on this mountain.

Pearl’s eyes widened as if she had never actually thought about that. “Pffft, girl, guess you right.” Luckily, Pearl didn’t seem to want to leave either. “This mountain sucks. I’m startin’ to think the only reason I come here is for you, ya know?”

Her heart pounded to the beat of her song, Marina felt herself becoming more confident, surer of herself. Something she could never feel out on her own.

“You lookin’ at me weird,” Pearl said, her brows furrowed and her fingers pointing. She was always very fidgety, wasn’t she? Always very animated. “Is there somethin’ weird on my face??”

“Yeah, your face,” Marina teased. She didn’t worry as much this time.

“Hey!!” Pearl said, angry in such a way that again didn’t seem threatening. “You’re one to talk with… with your… hair!”

“Nice.”

Pearl let out an exhausted sigh. It was the first time Marina had ever seen it. Like her squiddy little soul just left her body and floated away to the farthest respawner it could find.

“I know. I know, that was whack,” Pearl admitted. “I’ve just been in, like, such a funk, ya know? I feel like…. yo… I feel like I’m not like… improving, you know?”

Marina frowned, feeling a strange kinship with her. “Stagnating?”

“Naw, I dunno what beetle dating has to do with this,” Pearl said with a completely straight face. Wow, she really meant that. “I just feel like… I need something, yo! Something different! Something wild and fresh and hip and new! Something off the hook, ya know?”

Marina went quiet. Her heart was pounding. This was her chance. She felt her hands tense, ready to reach for her phone, to show Pearl what she’d been working on. But for some reason she didn’t do it. Move your fingers, Marina, come on!

“Sorry to drag the mood down,” Pearl said turning away. “I should be headin’ back anyway. Seems like this dumb mountain just ain’t doin the trick anymore. Maybe I’ll see ya around some other time.” She didn’t walk backwards this time, she didn’t bounce with each step down the path.

You worked too hard to get here, Marina. You can’t screw this up. Come on, put yourself out there!

But you’re an Octoling! They’ll recognize you! You can’t be consorting with a celebrity! That’s the opposite of laying low! They’ll toss you out, they’ll splat you till you can’t take it anymore!

But I came here to change things. I left to do something different! Be someone different! I can’t just leave and hide away forever, I don’t want things to stay the same!

“Pearl!” Marina shouted, grabbing the small woman’s shoulders a little too forcefully. “Wait!”

“Girl, you trippin?” Pearl growled. “I wanna go back to my crib and wallow in some mad despair, yo!”

“Shut up a second!” Marina said hurriedly. “I’ve got a track I’ve been working on! I want you to hear it!”

Pearl tilted her head and suddenly any annoyance that was inked across her face was wiped clean. “For eel? You a musician?”

Marina nodded, already pulling out her glowing little earbuds. She hoped Pearl wouldn’t notice the octopus on them. Then again, she didn’t notice the octopus tentacles on her head, so she’d probably be fine. “Well, I’m… I’m kind of new, I guess, but I’ve always wanted to be in a band!”

“Girl, I don’t wanna hear no amateur garbage.”

But Marina was already kneeling down to put the earbuds in, whether Pearl liked it or not! “Shush, just listen.” Adrenaline coursed through her inky veins as she hit play on her old beat up phone.

She would never forget the next moment. The way Pearl’s frown couldn’t help but turn upside down. The way her eyes lit up, the way her foot started tapping against the old dirt road, how her head bobbed slightly, her cute little tentacles swaying with each motion.

“Yo, yo, yo!!!” Pearl howled, her little body springing to action. “That $%#! was fire!” Her eyes were still shining like the pearls she was so aptly named after. But they were seeing Marina. Really seeing her this time. “You made this? That’s you singin’??”

Marina was breathless. She had been dreading it. Dreading that Pearl would hate it. She didn’t even know she was dreading it till now, till she felt her body almost melt away into an inky mess. All she could do was nod. She was doing everything she could to not slip into her Octopus form.

“Damn, girl, you’re great!” She said, still hopping with the beat. She snatched the phone from Marina, opting to press play to hear it again. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! I mean, don’t get me wrong, this is still pretty newbie stuff!” She nodded, suddenly very serious. This girl knew her stuff. “And honestly? It sounds kind of… sad?” She tilted her head, trying her best to articulate her thoughts, which was fairly difficult for Pearl. “Like… lonely. Not that that’s so bad, but I don’t think Inklings really want sad, ya feel me?”

Marina still held her breath. Was she that obvious? That see through? She didn’t mean for her sadness and her loneliness to get through to the song.

Pearl must have read Marina’s facial expressions, maybe even her mind. “No, no, but it’s… it’s not bad! I think, hmm…. I think maybe you just need a partner! Someone talented, someone amazing!”

Despite the way her legs trembled, despite her worry, Marina still managed to sneak in some sass. “So not you then, I guess?”

Laughter exploded out of Pearl like dynamite. “You are like, way too funny! No one ever gives me sass, ya know? It’s hella boring!” She stopped to catch her breath. “So, like… you have heard of me right? You’ve heard my songs, yeah? What do you think?”

“I’ve, uh, I heard I think one of your more recent songs,” Marina said sheepishly. It was in an old record store in the bargain bin section. “Dudes be sleepin?”

“You mean #$@%* Dudes Be #$@%* Sleepin!”

“Right.”

“Well, come on, don’t leave a squid hangin! What’d you think?”

It wasn’t bad! Marina really did like it! But… it was so angry. A very very angry song. Pearl’s voice was louder than anything! There was no one to hold her back a little, there was no one to keep her in line! Also, it was really weird how they kept that window shattering part in. But there was something so authentic about it, something so Pearl about it. Even with all the guitars and the screaming, she was still so cute?

She told her as much. Mostly. Marina left out the cute part.

“Aw, girl, you aint bein’ straight with me!” Pearl said with another laugh. “I know that track was whack! That was where my funk started! That lame song is why I’m up here!”

“Maybe… maybe I could help?” Marina asked, almost begging.

“Yo, you know what?!” Pearl shouted, trying to put her arm around Marina’s shoulders but finding that metaphorical mountain too hard to climb. She settled for around her waist. Close enough. “Why don’t you come chill in my crib?! I’ve got some actually decent equipment you could use!”

Before Marina could reply, her stomach spoke for her. Growling louder than she’d ever heard before.

Pearl laughed. “Got the munchies huh? We’ll stop by Crusty Sean’s and get you something. That cool? Also…” She sniffed. “… Maybe we could get you a shower too. No offense. And I got some sick duds you could wear instead of that weird getup.”

Everything was suddenly moving so fast! Marina could hardly keep up. She nodded, worried she’d fall right there on the spot. Luckily Pearl was holding on tight, making sure she wouldn’t lose her balance.

“Aw yeah!” Pearl shouted. “This is gonna be off the hook!”

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The King Of Character Actors

CHAPTER TWO: Chad and Charlie

Featuring Charles Durning

I met Charles Durning back in 1990 when he was doing 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof' on Broadway. I was living in New York at the time, standing on the corner, on my way home from running some errands. A white-haired and big-waisted, Durning with a well-trimmed mustache and beard, approached me and asked if I knew of a good restaurant within walking distance of the theater. I jokingly thought to myself, “What the hell? A celebrity hits on me and it’s Charles Durning.”

When I told him about a restaurant just down the block and giving it a good recommendation, he surprisingly invited me to eat with him. I only really knew him from “The Sting,” “Tootsie” and “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas,” but I wasn’t going to turn his offer down. And he could not have been nicer, telling stories about Burt Reynolds and Dolly Parton (all good, even though I asked for dirt). He even ask me questions about my life and family. Then we really hit it off after I told him I came from a big family, too. We sat there and finished the bottle of wine while solving the problems of the world. Eventually we got to my love life.

“A good looking young man like you. Hell, I bet you’ve a string of girlfriends?“ He asked.

"Naw… I haven’t really dated all that much. Ah, I guess I need to tell you something. Uuh…..I ’m gay. I ah… I… hope that’s OK.” I slowly responded.

’‘Well son, I always say, to each his own.”  

“Well this might be a bit confusing to you, but I am only attracted to older men. I don’t know why, that’s just how I feel inside.“ I added.

“Is that right. Do you have some old fella that you see?”

“Nah. I just dream about meeting someone one day. But I just don’t know how to approach a man I guess. Afraid of a punch to the face most likely.”

“I always wondered what it was like to have my cock suck. Let alone sucked by a man.” He suddenly said surprising me.

“That’s not fair, your teasing me.”

“Chad, I still get horny ya know. Just because there’s frost on the chimney. Don’t mean there ain’t fire down below. And wen your on the road. You get what you can get.”

My heart stopped beating then started again only to beat a thousand times a second. He had meant what he said.

“Chad, I’m gonna turn in for the night. Would you care to join me?“

"Sure, I’m right behind ya.”

How lucky could I be. Chuck was the epitome of a horny daddy and he was primed for action. I was nervous and almost hyperventilating as he paid the bill before heading back to his hotel.

We both helped each other undress. His body was awesome with big heavy tits. And my cock was beginning to stiffen at the sight of his big cock. Not that I thought it would be small but I never imagine it would have been this big. I couldn’t take it any longer and dropped to my knees, moving myself closer to him. Taking a hold of his cock, I looked up at him to see Charlie had the most amazed look on his face seeing that I wanted him. We smiled at each other as I slowly stroke his cock. By the time he was fully stiff, he was around 8 to 9 inches and thick.

As soon as Charlie sat down on the bed, I pressed my tongue against his thigh and licked my way up to his nuts. My tongue lapped at his nuts a bit before I went down on him. I heard him moan as his warm hands caressing my hair. I couldn’t believe I was blowing Charles Durning. We kept at it for about 10 minutes until I pulled myself off his cock. My mouth was full of his wet precum and it tasted so good.

“Why don’t you take off your clothes Chad while you’re at it.” Charlie said as he ease up further on the bed.

I took off my shirt showing Charlie my six pack abs then I lowered my pants, stepping out of them. He laid there observing my body with his cock still rock hard in his hand stroking it. I wanted to touch it but I knew if I did I’d shoot. So I stood beside the bed, pinching my nipples and posing for him as he lay back and spread his legs wide. Before long

“Come here, sit on daddy’s cock.” Charlie said as he spat on his hand, smearing it all over his own cock.

I’ve been fucked before, so I knew my hole wouldn’t be so tight when accepting Charlie’s nice cock, but his 9" inches was fairly thick. Charlie continued to spit onto his hand smearing it on his cock making it more wet and slippery as I turned around trying to position myself to his cock. Hopefully it will slip right into my hole as I felt the tip of his head tickle my cheeks. I pushed gently down on his cock as it slide into my hole feeling so good. I moaned out loud feeling it enter with only half of it going into my ass. The rest would have to be forced into me.

“Damn your cock feels so so fucking good in me.” I said out loud.

“Good, now take it all.” Charlie said in a demanding voice as he forced all of his cock in me.

As he pushed me down hard against his cock, I could feel his belly hitting my ass. I kind of bouncing off his belly, taking out half of his cock out from my hole, then he’d slammed my body back on to his cock, sliding all the way in me. It was painful but the pleasure of having my Charles Durning fuck me was making the pain go away. I tried not to yell too loud not knowing how thick the walls were as bounced up and down his cock. After a good 3 minutes of fucking, he pushed me off his cock. The feel of my ass closing while his cock exited felt like ecstasy.

“Let me see your face as I fuck ya.” Charlie said.

I climbed onto the bed and lifted one leg to the other side, hovering over his crotch. I felt his cock pocking my hole trying to get it in correctly. I felt the head against my hole and winced as Charlie’s cock kind of hurt going in this time but when it was all in, it was time to get fucked again. Placing both my hands on his chest, I dig into it as I lifted my ass and slid back down again.

“Oh yeah, take my cock, feel good inside you?” Charlie said groaning.

“Yes, oh my god yes! Fuck me hard Charlie!” I screamed as he shuttled his cock into me.

He gasped, screwing his face as I started riding him real fast. My cock was rock hard and I wanted to touch it, but I knew if I did I’d shoot immediately. So I just concentrated on draining Charlie’s cock with my ass. After a few minutes of this, I could tell he was dead close to cumming. So it didn’t take too much bouncing until that hot cock exploded inside me. I felt the juice fill me up and then with him still inside me, I grabbed my cock and jerked it to finish off. With my eye close, I was stroking my cock and running my other all over his chest and belly ingraining this experience in my brain.

“I’m cumming Charlie.”  I screamed to him.

“Oh yeah Chad, shoot your hot load.” Charlie said.

I shot my cum, hopefully it was shooting into Charlie’s mouth so he could taste my hot cum in his mouth. My cum sprayed over his chest and stomach as my body twitched for a moment from the unbelievable pleasure. I was breathing hard like I’d just ran a marathon as opening my eyes, I climbed off him and fell beside him.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[Click here for next Chapter]

If your a fan of Charles Durning, check out allthingsdurning.tumblr.com

[cameoff2real]

Best Friend Gave Me The Business(True Story)

(Before you read, understand that I will not tell you my best friend’s name. He’ll be called “T”.)

So I had hit my boy T up because I haven’t heard from him, since I saw him at work and was wondering what he up to.

Me: Yo T What Up Nigga? T: Shit Just Waking Up,wbu? Me: Nothing, Waiting On My Weedman To Pull Up. T:Shit I Don’t Care, You Ain’t Smoking With Me. Me: Nigga You Can Get Up And Come Over & Smoke With Me, You Ain’t Doing Shit Anyway! T: Ight Gimme 12 Minutes.

So as I awaited for T and the weedman I decided to take a quick shower, always wanna be presentable at all times. As I entered the bathroom to take a shower, my weedman calls.

Weedman: Aye I’m Outside. Me: Ight.

I go outside to get my weed and come back to shower. I instantly turned my music on which “Gangsta By Kehlani” was playing. Something about that song just does something to me. As I’m showering I thought about the events that could occur because my best friend is sexy as fuck. 6'0 20 years old nice facial hair decent haircut chocolate skin tone and Lord had so much hood in that it took me to surprised levels. Eventually after 20 minutes I exit the shower only for my cousin to violate my moment.

Ashley: Aye I Gotta Use The Bathroom. Me: Ight.

I exit the bathroom and let my cousin use it while I came in my room with just a towel on to dry off in my room. I thought for a moment I’d miss T, but I didn’t. Got dressed and sat down as I waited 35 minutes for my best friend to come. Eventually he knocked on the door I threw my remote on the ground breaking my neck to open the door.

T: Damn Nigga Did I Have To Wait Forever? Me: Naw My Bad Best Friend, Come In.

He Comes In And We Go To My Room And I Handed Him The Weed (Which I Have A Rule, You Smoke You Roll.) As He Sat Down On My Bed We Sparked A Conversation.

T: You Miss Me Nigga? Me: I Don’t Know, Should I? T: Yeah Cause I’m Best Friend. Me: Yeah Nigga I Miss You. T: Shit You Better Nigga. Me: Anyway Roll The Blunt So We Can Smoke.

He finishes rolling the blunt and lights it as he moves closer to me as we smoke the blunt. Can’t lie he is fine, chocolate,tall,hood, and perfect,but he is my best friend, am I wrong for that? I don’t think that it’s a crime to like your best friend, I mean if you don’t cross the line right?

T: So Why You Treat Me Different? Me: What You Mean? T: Like You Act Like You Can’t Open Up To Me, We Best Friend’s You Can Talk To Me About Anything. Me: You’re Straight So It’s Like I Gotta Be Careful Of What I Do And Say.

He Then Moves Close To Me And Starts Kissing Me Laying Me Back On My Bed And Looks Me In The Eyes…“You Don’t Have To Be Afraid Of Me”. He Goes To My Neck And He Knows That’s My Hotspot And He Goes Down And Pulls My Shorts Off Revealing My Hard Dick & Starts Sucking It. I Didn’t Know Whether To Gasp Or Jump But A Moan Came Out And He Intensified The Feeling And I’m Gripping The Sheets. He Pulls Back And Pulls His Dick Out & I Knew It Was My Turn To Return The Favor Hands Free. I Sucked Him Slow And Nice Swirling My Tongue Around And Going Up And Down And Eventually Deepthroating Him. He Moaned “Damn Best Friend” As I Continued. He Raised Up And Took Both Of Our Clothes Off & Reached In His Shorts Pulling Out A Condom.

T: I Wanna See How Good You Can Take Dick. Me: Okay

He Lubed His Dick With The Condom On And Slid In Slow, It Hurted But I Wanted It. He Slid All The Way In And Paused For A Second & Looked At Me.

T: Damn Nigga You Tight As Fuck. When Was The Last Time You Had Sex? Me: 4 Long Dreadful Months. T: I'ma Change Yo Life In A Minute.

He began to fuck me, like he was on a mission. Going deep and slow feeling my walls grip his dick as he leaned down to kiss me. The thrust of every stroke triggered my spots causing me to get wet and open up more to him as he went deeper and deeper giving me the dick I had long deserved and craved for. He pulls out and looks down and says “Best friend I got you creaming already”. I never knew that was possible, I had sex before just never creamed before so I thought of it as a good thing to happen. He slides back in except grabbing my legs putting them on his shoulders and he went in just dicking me down and my moans electrified him as he start going faster and faster deeper and deeper. I felt this weird yet good sensation as he said “yeah nigga cream on that dick, gimme that ass”. He turned me over on my stomach and slid back in only for my cream to really come out and my my my my my my my he had me creaming so much I felt like I exploded a water pipe in my ass cause I heard this weird noise like something was farting but I was gushing out cream like crazy, trying to run from the dick,but he grabbed me telling me “naw nigga you taking this dick today, gimme that booty baby.” I bit my pillow to restrain me from moaning cause it felt so right yet in my mind somewhere it was wrong. I didn’t want him to stop cause it felt like heaven as he dicked me down and whispered in my ear sweet things that made me get so wet that he couldn’t hold it in any more. He turned me back over and slid in and went so fast that I felt like a battery operated machine was fucking me cause I creamed harder and harder telling him “I can’t take no more” he said “yea you can baby, you taking this dick today. Fuck you gonna make me bust in that ass baby.” He pulls out and pulls the condom off and bust a nice load on my ass, jerking and shaking sweating breathing hard. He laid next to me pulling me closer to him.

T: My Best Friend Got That Good Super Soak Ass On Him. Whatever Nigga You Date Gone Fall In Love,But Since We Single Why Not Tap That Ass For Awhile.

I giggled as we laid in my bed covered in sweat and the air comes And cools us off as we drifted off in a nice coma like sleep………………………..and that’s how I ended up saying “Best Friend Gave Me The Business.”

[thejackal64]

Star vs The Forces of Evil: Hidden Truth | Chapter 4: Hidden Truth

A couple days had passed since Janna, Star, and Marco’s exhibition through the Forest of Certain Death. Throughout the hike, nothing of importance (or creepiness) happened which seemed to disappoint Janna, but that didn’t stop her from aweing at the majesticness of Mewni Castle. The Queen and King weren’t too happy that Star had brought another human to stay in Mewni Castle, but they didn’t seem to put up much resistance. Instead they nagged Star about letting humans go through the Forest of Certain Death, mostly referring to Janna as Marco had proven himself as a capable fighter. But something was off with the forest, as if the whole thing was focusing on a fixed point, as if it was ignoring the teens. Star said that nothing of interest was in there, but certain whisperings and ruffles in the bushes caused by bunnies.. After some arguing between the royal family, the Queen and King let it go, and allowed Janna to stay in the Castle but only as a guest of Star.

A couple days had passed; nothing was happening, all except for one peculiar thing. Throughout the last few days, when Star walked around a specific point of the castle, her wand started to glow.

“Why do you think it’s like this? Is it going to explode?” Star joked.

“Naw. It’s pretty slick though.” Janna said, spreading her toes across the hallway.

When Marco first noticed it, he had a different response. “Whenever your wand glows, something bad starts happening. You should get it checked up.”

Some time passed and the glow had lost it’s charm. It had actually started to blink in her bedroom.

Janna, who had been sleeping in her room for the last few days, never seemed to mind, but for Star it was the last straw.

“I’m putting an end to this!”

Star jumped out of her bed. Tripping over every useless object and item of clothing that Janna and herself had left on the floor, she managed to find the door. Janna didn’t seem to have noticed and the blinking was starting to lessen as Star made her way down to her best friend’s room.

She slowly opened the creaking door, making sure not to wake anyone up. The night light of Mewni reflected the boy’s room, a room Star had made him as a perfect replica of his room on Earth. Star entered, her wand’s glow now fully extinguished. She sneakily walked next to the sleeping Marco and gave him a quick shake to wake him up. Once that didn’t work, she shook him to the best of her ability. Not only did this wake up the boy, but also freaked him out enough for him to fall of his bed.

He quickly stood back up in a karate pose assuming the worst. He let out a loud, “WHO'S THERE?!” before Star put her index finger up to his mouth. “Shhh, we need to be silent. We don’t want to wake up anyone else, especially my parents, because they-”

“Uhm, Star?”

“Yes?”

“I haven’t said a word for a good couple of seconds.”

Only then she realized she was still touching his lips. “Oh, sorry, I uhm.. Heh.” She nervously chuckled and created what she hoped to be a sincere smile to ease up the situation. It wasn’t. Marco, strangely, didn’t seem to mind that much. “Aaaaaanyway, this stupid glow of wand of mine has been bugging me for days and I wanna find out why.”

“Sounds good,” he nodded his head in agreement. “But why did you wake me up when you have Janna sleeping in your room?”

Star froze. That was a pretty good question. “Because, uhm… you’re Marco, hehe.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t explain anything.”

“Oh, come on. We always go on adventures together. Besides, Janna is… well, Janna. She always somehow manages to make weird comments that turn completely normal situations into awkward silence.”

Marco looked at Star's right hand. Star looked at her right hand. And to her dismay, she found it on Marco’s shoulder. How the heck did it get there? And when?!

“You mean like right now?”

“Shut up and help me.”

Marco pushed her pale arm away and questioned, “But Star, why are we doing this in the middle of the night?”

“Weeeell..” The princess started sheepishly “... After what happened with Toffee, my mom is still a little bit on edge. And the fact that Eclipsa escaped didn’t help the matter. If my mother even hears her name...”

A voice was heard from the other side of the hallway...

“WHO’S THERE?! SHOW YOURSELF!” The voice was a mixture of anger, fear and anxiety.

“Honey, why are you shouting at an empty hallway?”

“I heard Eclipsa. At least, I think I did.”

“Sweetheart, she isn’t here. For all we know she might not even be in Mewni anymore. Come back to bed, we can cuddle a little and then-” the voice disappeared after doors closed.

Star and Marco were both kneeling close to the room’s wall.

“You see?” whispered Star. “She wasn’t this scared even when Toffee was around. We need go.”

As the two teenagers trekked down the dark hallway, Star’s new wand glowed brighter than it had before. The two of them blocked their eyes from the glow, which proved to make walking in general rather hard. Marco, pretty annoyed by the situation, took off his hoodie, exposing himself to the night’s cold breeze, and wrapped it around the glowing wand. Marco’s gray shirt hugged his body tightly. As they walked, Star tried not to stare. Marco, on the other hand, seemed unfazed as he mostly seemed relieved that most of the blinding light was gone. An awkward silence started to creep onto both teens. This was the first time that Star and Marco have been by themselves in complete peace since the End Of School Party at the Diaz house. The tension between them was thick.

Star couldn’t help but think, “He knows.”

After a while it seemed Marco was going to say something, before he was interrupted by Star, “Oh thank Mewni we’re finally here!” An awkward chuckle escaped Marco’s mouth, “Yeah…” They walked into the tapestry filled room; the wand glowing brighter than ever before. Marco’s hoodie didn’t seem to be holding back the light as well now. After a bit of wandering, they passed by a specific tapestry which seemed to set off the wand, which abruptly let out a truly blinding spell. Luckily the two best friends noticed beforehand and covered their sensitive eyes. An explosion of light devoured the whole room, a room isolated enough from the rest of the castle, for no one else to seem to notice the glowing hell that just occurred. Marco hesitantly lowered his hand from his face. When he saw that the coast was clear, he lowered Star’s hand for her.

Star looked around the rather normal seeming room.

“Star?” Marco grabbed Star’s hand and pointed at the wall right behind them. A large silhouette of a framed picture hung over. The tapestry of an unrecognisable Queen of Mewni stood broken into pieces before them. Star looked around, she had never remembered there being a shattered tapestry, she didn’t remember there being a tapestry on that wall in the first place. Marco wandered in the dark, silent room, with what felt like vindictive eyes staring at him. “Who would guess that there was this whole artwork on this wall, and nobody ever noticed?” he thought.

After a bit of searching, Marco found two pathways leading to a dark abyss that he hadn’t seen when he first entered the room. “Star!” He yelled. She walked over and Marco explained, “Those weren’t in here when we walked in, right?”

Star contemplated Marco’s discovery and came to what she thought was a sensible solution. “There was obviously an obscuring spell here….” She looked at Marco with the eyes of a kid that had a new toy within its reach. Marco knew it would be pointless to argue with her. “Maybe….. one of them can explain that mysterious tapestry over there or the wand acting all weird…” Marco glanced at Star with a face of concern that the princess was very used to.

“Are you sure Star? I don’t even think these hallways have an end to them.” Star scoffed at the idea, stating, “Come on Diaz, every inch of this castle has been dissected, if this really was dangerous they would have blocked it off.” Marco let out a sigh of reluctant acceptance. “You’re the princess.” “Yes I am..” They both walked into their respective pathways letting the darkness of the hallways consume them.

Star POV

At first, all Star could see was an empty void, nothing growing, nothing moving. Occasionally, she felt the soft texture of moist moss under her boots. The endless darkness was disturbing to Star, but was also strangely soothing…. Like she could take a nap here and forget about her problems…. Forget about Eclipsa, Mewni,..... And Marco.

She obeyed the strange force of nature, and curled up into a ball on the floor. The darkness beckoned, it slithered towards her. She couldn’t do anything.

Then the screaming began.

Tendrils of colored smoke burst out of Star’s eyes, causing her to yell out in agony. The mist curled around her legs and arms, forcing her to stay put. Her eyes bulged with piercing pain, and a strange dream started to unfold around her.

She saw herself and Marco….. Happy? Holding hands…… That was normal for them. But Star could see the way she looked at Marco, with crushed eyes and amourae. That was normal as well. But something was different….. Marco was looking at her this way too! Was this…. A vision? Was she and Marco destined to be together?!

Star would have been pulsating in joy if she wasn’t being controlled by the mist.

But the dream went on, and quickly flipped through the months. The once happy couple started to deteriorate, the image crumbling into dust, replaced by both of them with a scowl on their faces, staring away from each other.

Star felt something rise in her gut….. Guilt. Was this how they would end? Whose fault was it…… Probably mine.

The dream continued, showing images of both Star and Marco getting older, and consequently further apart. Somewhere along the line, Marco disappeared entirely, leaving Star with a crown on her head. Her cheek marks were faded.

NO.

This isn’t how it’s going to happen.

I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be careful.

Star hesitated, as the dream and mist started washing away with the wind.

If we dare to start something…… Even knowing how it’ll end……

Wait, no…. No….. I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Marco and Jackie, I mean, look at them!

You know you want to.

No. I’ll…. I’ll stay his friend. I’ll be supporting. Maybe….. Maybe in the future. Maybe…..

I can’t stay like this. Not like whatever I am now, half of what I used to be. I need…. Marco.

I’ll have to risk it.

Star sighed, the mist unshackling her. The way out was clear, and a thick papery piece of the tapestry was on the floor, revealing the mysterious figure’s right side. She was obviously beautiful, with curly blond hair, not unlike Star’s. An imprint of a crown could be seen as well.

She stared up at the sky.

The first piece had been found.

Marco POV

Marco trekked on, unwielding and strong. He managed to resist the temptations of the mist, evercurling. Marco would swat away the tendrils as they marched towards him, keeping them at bay. However, it never really left, and only grew more intense.

“Great.” Marco muttered, ”First the wand, and now this?”

Marco could hear faint watery noises underneath, as the plit pat of puddles started to appear. Obviously this tunnel wasn’t well kept at all. However, the light of day was coming closer and closer, and Marco could see the faint imprint of a tapestry piece. Smiling, he momentarily lost focus, and the mist suddenly grappled his ankles.

Yelling out at the sudden touch, Marco tried to swat the mist away, in vain as the tendrils swam up his body, and dug at his head. He fell on the ground, trembling in fear.

The smoky mess started to form around him into two familiar figures: Him and Jackie. They sort of floated around each other, growing further and further apart. Marco watched in horror as Jackie and himself started yelling at each other, with it all culminating in Jackie throwing a brick at him and stomping off.

Was….. This the future of their relationship? It couldn’t be…. Right? What would possibly be strong enough to bring their perfect bond apart?

Star.

Marco froze in contemplation, his brain warring with itself.

No, she wouldn’t do this to me! She’s my friend, she understands how I feel!

Yeah right. Have I been even looking at her? She wants me, I’m sure. If she hadn’t burst out that she had a crush on me, everything would be fine. If she didn’t have a crush to begin with, everything would be perfect.

She can’t control that, and I know it.

And think about it…. Don’t you feel the same too?

Marco’s anger started to bubble up.

NO. NO. Jackie is my one and only. I’ve always had a crush on her. I don’t love Star… I don’t. I do NOT…. Agh. Me and Jackie belong together. If Star can’t figure that out……

I. Only. Like. Jackie.

The tendrils retreated, withering away, but never really leaving. However, it left a clear enough path for Marco to proceed into the light. The tapestry piece was hanging on the wall, showing the left side of the original tapestry. Marco could see the ornate contents, the crown, and most mysterious of all, the wand. It was held in her left fist, being held almost forcefully. It was deep blue in color, with the crystal appearing light purple in the shape of an orb, with a small sand clock inside. Burning Pheonix wings shutted out from the sides.

The second piece was found.

Both teens independently walked out of the pathways. Both ended up back in the tapestry room.

Silence.

“I found a piece…” Star exclaimed, breaking the silence. Marco didn’t respond but instead lifted his right arm showing her his piece of the tapestry. “Right…” Star started walking toward the mysterious, shattered picture, and Marco closely followed. Although they both held rather large chunks of the tapestry, it wasn’t enough to show its full picture. A sizable piece in the middle was missing; the tapestry wasn’t complete. Although the mystery of this tapestry wasn’t solved, both friends weren’t willing to investigate further, at least not now.

As they walked back to their rooms, as if to forget that the events of the night even happened, a metaphorical fog of guilt and tension crept in. The fog was thick, unnerving. The two of them used to be so open with each other, but it was obvious that there was something they were hiding from each other and from themselves, something that they didn’t want known, nor were willing to admit, or so they thought.

Star, trying to blow away the fog, asked Marco an inadvertently heavy question. “So...that hallway, huh?” she let out an awkward chuckle. Her attempt of alleviating tension only reinforced it. Marco was silent.

A million thoughts ran through his mind. “What am I doing? I left my girlfriend to stay with Star in another DIMENSION! Who am I kidding? NO! I LOVE JACKIE! ... What did she see? Should I address it? After so long… of chasing what seemed like an impossible dream, I have it, I have the perfect girlfriend.” The boy gazed over at Star who was staring forward as stiff as a board. She was beautiful, with her long blond hair…. A little like Jackie’s actually. She would look a lot like her if she cut her hair short.

“At least I thought…”  After what felt like hours of contemplating to Marco, he blurted out a response. “Yeah...it was pretty wild?” Star knew that Marco wasn’t comfortable, she knew that whatever the boy saw had to do with her… and Jackie.

Star and Marco reached their respective bedrooms. They both knew that what happened tonight wasn’t going to be mentioned any time soon. They were aware of the conflict inside each of their heads, they read each other like a book. They knew more than what the other thought. They were best friends, nothing more, just friends. They…

They both learned an important lesson tonight. Whether they realized it or not. Faced with the worst of their fears. It was hard to believe they could overcome them…...

[madam-tay]

Five times you’ve given speeches thanking people for the statues that were in your hand, now in a box because your mother wouldn’t let you sell them. There are 1,098 times some magazine, interviewer, newscaster, or youtube film maker praised you and your genius. And none of that makes a fucking god damn difference.

Xavier Évrard Lestrange has become a synonym for a break down. Someone who had so much and spoiled it all.

It starts with the sun. It’s too hot on the pavement as his mother drags him to another studio. If they don’t want him in a commercial for diapers for four year olds who have yet to learn bladder control she’ll find another commercial for some product that does. “Je ne veux pas aller Mama.” She mumbles back in French, words that sometimes get mixed into his English in his auditions. Each word that doesn’t sound like the American English of his LA peers earns him a sharp pinch. The ones on his foot are the worst.

His first role is in a French-American production. The producer sees something in him and maybe it will make his mother happy and keep his parents together. But one movie is not enough. She wants more, more from her little Xavie. The big gifts from his paycheck go to her fancy dresses and cars rather than his bedroom.

On some sets there are children the same age, playmates in trailers. Those are his favorite movies, the kid classics instead of adult movies. There are no children in adult movies and his time off set is spent with a tutor who doesn’t understand why he can’t learn from her lectures and textbook readings.

He is the reason for the divorce. It’s something his mother always blames on him, but while it is a true fact, it is not the way she thinks. His father, Charles Lestrange is sick of seeing his blond haired son unhappy. He is sick of listening to his wife prattle on and knowing that every dollar was going to her lifestyle and not his son who was working for it.

And yet the court believes Xavier’s mother, that she spent all of the time and effort to her son’s career to better him. Still, they get joint custody and Charles sneaks in that at least half of every movie profit goes to a trust fund.

The young boy wants to act. He likes being in movies, likes going to the park and having kids recognize him. He just likes the production of it all. It’s like being a wizard telling a story in bits and pieces and having it all come together so beautifully in ways normal people will never understand.

An awkwardly shaped boy turns into a teenage heartthrob in a story of the ugly duckling that only Hollywood could create. He begins staring in PG-13 features and wanting to use his money on things like pot and cars now that he has his license. His father gives him an allowance, but the answer to any lavish purchases is always no. No, a Lestrange does not sink to reckless behavior. When the son brings up his mother, Charles’ stiff upper lip responds that she was never a true Lestrange. Her new last name with her new husband proves it.

Girls love boys who can speak French, everyone keeps telling him, but he doesn’t bring up a love life when people ask. He has some friends from movie sets he hangs with, and that’s enough for Xavier. He’s making a name for himself, becoming a loud and obnoxious teenager. He wants to do a movie that means something, that’s more than just red carpets with screaming fourteen-year-old girls. He wants something that makes a fucking difference. He’s the stupid blonde, the type casted jock. He wants to be more than that.

He hits 18 and his father still won’t let him get to the trust fund. He has to wait. Thirty. Twelve more fucking years until he can prove himself to his father that all the money he earned as a child will be put to good use.

But he has access to the money he earns now so he stops looking for indie movies with purpose and instead pursues the big blockbusters, the ones that offer him millions of dollars to star in. He wants the money, wants to do with it what he wants. The drugs he likes are expensive to keep up with the friends he makes on set. They’re bad influences, but what does he care? They’re the closest things to friends he has.

There is nothing you can hide from the cameras, at least that’s what he thought. And then his biggest secret has yet to be talked about. The nice blonde roommate is a good distraction for them. A few years after he can legally drink and they’re already talking about him getting married. Xavier and Amelia go everywhere together and while he won’t say a word, the tabloids explode when there’s a ten-carat diamond on her finger.

He comes home to red. Bodies mangled and open the real thing is so much worse than the movie portrayal. He calls the police, voice strained and crying. His hands are covered in blood. It’s hard to focus from his high.

They call him this generations’ OJ Simpson. A man goes into a jealous rage and kills his fiancé and her lover. It’s the type of story that writes itself. He’s arrested before the police leave his house. Everyone wants an interview, his side of the story, but he keeps himself tight lipped. He doesn’t want to speak to anyone. The only people he speaks to are his father and the lawyers he pays for.

The jury lets him off. Of course they do because he never fucking killed her in the first place. Amelia was his best friend, her relationship with Arthur was the best thing for her. He was happy for her, ecstatic that they were going to get married. That big diamond ring on her finger wasn’t from him, though he did buy it for her fiancé.

But the real reason is the defense they built up, the secret he finally spills. He gets up on the stand and when his lawyer asks if he and Amelia has ever slept together his answer is automatically no. He swallows before he finishes his statement, “Because I have known that I am a homosexual since I was sixteen.” Seven lovers are brought to the stand, people he never wanted in the limelight. Some are bitter, but they’re sworn in. And now the world knows and he feels dirty from it. He wanted his privacy, but there’s none in prison he gets reminded. One cost outweighs another.

The craving comes back as soon as he’s free. He leaves LA, running from his name. Life has turned to shit. He needs something to get away from the death of his two best friends. He needs to get away from the gnawing guilt that those people broke into his house for him and not for her. Guilt eats him alive. The only time he can sleep is if its drug induced, unable to spend more than ten minutes sober.

He blows through his money as he blows through the country, getting high whenever he can. By the time he reaches Nebraska he doesn’t have any money left, just the trust fund he can’t get his hands on. He doesn’t talk about his past and most of the druggies he meets are just as high as he is. He can deny his past and avoid the press. The only time he’ll acknowledge who he is when he needs money. The internet is a wonderful thing. There are always people who want a signed poster or some shit off of eBay. He can get some money here and there.

It’s a rainy day when he breaks into a church in a small town in Nebraska. He got kicked out of the car he was hitch hiking in. Who the fuck lets a guy out in the middle of fucking nowhere in the rain? He just wants to get out of the rain, he’s surprised he doesn’t get swallowed right into hell when he curls under the pews to sleep.

It’s a gentle shake and the promise of a cup of coffee that wakes him. His eyes are blood shot and he sniffles, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He’ll take the coffee, but he doesn’t want anything else. “Naw man, fuck it. Why bother spending any god damn money on me? If I’m lucky I’ll be dead in a week.” He almost wishes he was dead. That’d be better than this.

The realization is that he has nowhere else to go. He can’t find a way out of this town, is too tired to crawl out of it himself, and can’t find anyone to get him high. So he grudgingly goes into the treatment center, part dragged and part carried.

His expectation is to stay in here forever, to never see grass again. He’s alright with that. Xavier wanted to avoid prison before, but maybe that’d be nice. There are no cameras in prisons or treatment centers and he has no desire to show himself to anything.

Toby’s home becomes his home. He’s still craving that buzz, settling it with sucking nicotine into his system. Cigarettes aren’t nearly as good as the mixture of drugs he had been pumping into himself, but it’s all he’s got so he’ll do it.

“I promise you, I’m going to give you your money yet if it’s the last thing I fucking do. Je promets” Toby needs his money, treatment centers are expensive and Xavier doesn’t have anything. He’s still waiting on his fucking god damn trust fund. He owes Toby more than the money for a treatment center. The Lestrange man, though he feels more like a boy, has no practical skills. He can’t keep his language in control to get through a job interview and flipping burgers isn’t something he wants to do. He’s good at acting, he wants to act. There’s no acting in Nebraska.

So instead he stays in Toby’s home, pouring over the comic books laid out on tables and ignoring the way the black haired man looks when he’s thinking. He’s determined not to fuck this up, even with a creeping feeling that Toby may go the same as Amelia. Film has no allure to him anymore, he can barely stand the animation type crap Toby watches. If it’s on a screen he doesn’t want it. It’s all fake, especially when he stumbles on youtube clips of news reports on his trail one night while buzzed on cheap beer and shitty vodka. How can he trust anything that gets edited? That people cut apart and sew back together again? It’s all fake. The miracle magic has turned into evil sorcery.

The first thing he does with the trust fund is give Toby the money he’s owed, with interest and consideration of all the food he’s eaten. He doesn’t want to touch it aside from that. He tells his father to do something with it so it’s out of his reach. Years have taught Xavier not to trust himself. That much money could buy a lot of drugs he still finds himself craving.

He doesn’t know how, but someone catches wind of his whereabouts. Nebraska is too far away for a lot of paparazzi and thank fucking god for that. But instead the job offers come in. Competitions for charity, which is fucking amusing because he needs the charity. Yeah, kids and cancer is a good cause, but he’s still sleeping on the couch of his best friend’s house so he doesn’t turn to drugs. Or there’s other shit he’s not interested in like made for TV movies and infomercials. He doesn’t want any of it and finds himself shouting curses on the end of the phone.

The envelope is big and heavy in his hands and he turns it over several times before he finally opens it. It’s a script, a long script. He’s about to toss it when Toby speaks up, it’s for Broadway. Thank fucking god for that nerd’s glasses. Still, he wants to throw it out. Broadway still requires him to move away and those bitchy publicity interviews that he hasn’t been on since before Amelia. He doesn’t want that. Maybe he does want to get back into acting, but he doesn’t want any of the side effects acting brings. Like all the shit he knows his return to the limelight will dig up.

But Toby is fucking persuasive. Xavier has the money to buy a decent house with his trust, a fucking nice house if he wanted. He can be like an adult or whatever type of bastard he's turned out to be. He can’t leave the man. More so, the man can’t leave him. Toby has seen him through everything and he worries. He worries what he’ll do to himself without Toby the babysitter. All he needs is to be alone for him to end up curled under some middle-of-nowhere church pew.

“Come with me.”