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deanswaywardgirl · 3 years ago

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Goodbye

A/N: Okay, so this one shot hit me while I was at work. I was listening to Goodbye by Chris Young, and I paired it with this scene from Dawson's Creek (CJ, one of Jensen's roles, where his girlfriend Jen panics and breaks up with him on a whim after finding out her Grams has cancer. But they make up and he forgives her for her "freak out") But I had to figure out the Supernatural equivalent to that and this is what I came up with. Since it's a song fic, I've included the lyrics in bold.

Faith had been having a rough couple days since their last hunt to the point her and Dean were slightly avoiding each other. She'd spent all her time in her room, crying and remembering how Dean had been so angry with her when they'd gotten back to the bunker. She'd retreated to her room and hadn't seen much of him since. She'd seen him in the kitchen, and in the halls, but they hadn't spent more than five minutes together in one room, and the whole thing was driving her crazy. She knew what it was coming to, and she figured she should be the one to break it off, thinking it would hurt less if it came from her. Gathering every ounce of courage she could, she forced her feet down the hall to Dean's room, not stopping til the golden number eleven was staring her in the face. She knocked on Dean's door, and waited, biting her lip to keep the tears at bay, knowing if she caved, she could never go through with it. When the door opened and Dean appeared, the softness of his features hardened, seeing the obvious emotion on her face. "Faith? It's almost midnight."

"I know, Dean, I'm sorry. Can we talk?" Faith asked, swallowing thickly. He nodded and moved so she could enter, closing the door behind her. Turning to face him, she licked her lips and waited til he sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You know it's been three days since we've spent any time together in one room. Everytime I walk in, you walk out with some excuse," he said, not bothering to hide his frustration.

"Because I wanted to avoid any more confrontation, Dean-"

"I thought we were past this. Hell, I am past it, you're the one avoiding me." Faith slightly flinched and dropped her eyes. She didn't know when the tears spilled over, but she forced her eyes to his and took a step towards him. "I'm leaving you." Dean stiffened where he stood.

"What?"

Knock on my door You're on my porch It's about 11:30 And that only means One of two things Either you're a little bit lonely Or something ain't right And judgin' by The tear in your eye You're about to say something crazy Like goodbye

"You heard me. We can't keep doing this, Dean, this dance of ours...it-it-it's not healthy. We worry about each other constantly, we're always afraid. And when i jump in front of you trying to save you, you lose your mind, yet you're completely comfortable doing the same thing to me. We have to give this up. Yes, we do. I am, I am giving this up, I'm giving it all up--"

Able to tell she was panicking and on the verge of a breakdown, he gently pulled her into his arms and kissed her with everything he had, gripping her waist with his fingertips. It didn't take long before she melted into it and gripped his hair with her fingers, kissing him back, using the bed to wrap her leg around his waist. Dean moaned deeply against her lips as he helped secure her hold on him, then pressed her against the wall, gently squeezing her thighs as he deepened the kiss even more. Faith gripped the opening of his jacket with her fingers as she kissed him, then reluctantly broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against his, her eyes still closed as he moved his lips to tenderly kiss her forehead, letting them linger against her skin.

Stop right there Don't say a word Just let me hold you Girl, we can fix Whatever it is So whatever you do Don't let us die The love of a lifetime Is worth at least a million tries Baby what we got Is too good for goodbye

Faith realized she'd tried to break up with him, tried to leave him, and a sob escaped her as she buried her face in his shoulder, holding onto him tightly.

"Faith, sweetheart, look at me," he said, but the girl shook her head as she held onto him tighter, afraid of what he would say. "Faith, hey, I need you to look at me," he whispered, settling on the edge of the bed with her in his lap. Faith forced herself back and looked into his eyes.

This ain't a game I'm trying to play Girl, we got something real here You don't just break up Whenever it gets tough So, baby, don't you leave here I want you to say You're gonna stay And we're in this thing forever Come whatever, so

"Dean, please, no..I can't. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I can't leave," she whimpered.

"Faith, listen to me." He took her hands and held them in both of his, swallowing thickly as a single tear fell down his cheek, the emotion in his voice. "I know I'm always telling you that you deserve better than me, and that you should leave and never look back. But this time, I'm gonna beg you to stay. Okay? Faith, I love you more than anything, and for once..forgive me, but I'm gonna be selfish with you, and beg you to stay with me," he told her, cupping her face in his hand, wiping away her tears. Faith pressed her forehead against his and held on to him with a death grip.

"Dean, I'm so sorry. I love you so damn much. I don't wanna leave you," she cried, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I panicked and I--I don't wanna leave. I'm sorry," she cried and buried her face in his neck.

"Shh, sweetheart, you're alright." Faith held onto him tightly and threaded her fingers into his hair as she held him.

"I love you, Dean," she whispered in his ear once she'd calmed down, though her voice was a whisper. Dean closed his eyes as he held his girl in his arms.

It wasn't long before the two were entangled in each other's embrace on the bed. Faith didn't wanna part from him for even a second, just the thought of leaving him breaking her heart all over again. Dean held her tightly and kissed her forehead, resting his chin on her head as he moved his fingers through her hair.

"So you thought I was gonna break it off with you, so you decided to do it first?" Dean asked after several minutes of silence. Faith nodded and swallowed thickly.

"Dean, I panicked. I couldn't stand the thought of you..." she shook her head and gently tightened her grip on him, her eyes welling up again as she bit her bottom lip. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. Dean tightened his hold on her. "Forgive me, please," she begged him. Dean let his lips linger as he kissed the top of her head again.

"I guess I do have a history of trying to get you to leave, so you panicking isn't a stretch." He clenched his jaw as he rested his chin on her head and closed his eyes until she picked up her head and glanced up at him.

"I love you, Dean, and I don't want to leave. I swear, I panicked." She let her eyes fall with a deep breath before licking her lips. "Is that okay?" she asked. Dean watched her for a moment and nodded, then gently turned them over and tucked her hair behind her ear, then brushed his lips against hers before kissing her again.

It was slow and sensual and deep. Faith wrapped her hand around to the back of his neck, threading her fingers into the small hairs on the back of his head, losing herself in his lips. When Dean pulled back, she looked up into his hazel eyes and stroked his cheek with a warm crooked smile.

"I love you, too," he told her and kissed the tip of her nose, then took her hand and laced their fingers together as he tucked her into his side and wrapped his arm around her from behind. "I always will," he whispered into her hair. Faith smiled softly as she made sure she was as close to him as she could physically get, her eyelids getting heavier as she drifted off in the arms of the man she loved.

It's too good for goodbye.

A/N: Hope y'all enjoy this one. It was a tad difficult, but I think I delivered it well. Feedback is welcome, though as always, be gentle. Thank you!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the lyrics, the song, or Dean, or SPN.

@wearywinchester @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @ellewritesfix05 @avanatural @deanwanddamons @chevyharvelle @deangirl93

#dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester #faith delaney (OC)#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean fluff #supernatural angst #jensen ackles #dean #dean winchester angst

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homoose · 4 years ago

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Winning is a Habit

Hi y’all! Okay sooooooooo this is my first time writing fic??????? Like omg please be nice lmao. I don’t have a beta reader, so if you catch any mistakes pls lmk! I saw this challenge and the world is total garbage, so why not write our own realities????? Ok here goes!!!!!!!!!! Written for @veraiconcos fic challenge

Summary: The BAU gets called to investigate two high-profile murders in a college town, only to find that they are part of a much bigger, more complicated picture. No real pairings, although you could make it happen if you want lol ;) This is an idea I’ve seen floating around the fandom for a little while now, and I really wanted to see it fleshed out. Set around season 4 or 5.

Category: some angst, sort of fluff? I wouldn’t say it necessarily qualifies as an AU, but it’s outside of canon.

Warnings/Includes: some brief descriptions of violence/CM type stuff; mentions of rape (no details)

Word count: 6.1k

———

“Stillwater, Oklahoma,” JJ said, navigating the map off screen and pulling up the crime scene photos. “Two college seniors— Tyler Allen and Leon Williams, star football players for Oklahoma State University— both found dead the day before the playoff qualifier.”

“Do we know the cause of death?” Spencer asked, thumbing through the case file.

“The ME report concluded that both boys died of acute alcohol poisoning,” JJ informed them.

Emily looked up from the file. “And the locals don’t think this could just be a case of college kids having a little too much fun?”

“Before a major playoff game? I doubt it.” Derek leaned back in his chair. “Especially considering OSU’s having a record-breaking season. I’d guess the coach had players on a pretty strict lockdown.” He raised his hands and joined them in a steeple over his chest. “Showing up to a game hung-over— particularly one as important as this— would be a major conduct issue.”

“That, and there was a pretty specific message left on both victims,” JJ added, arms crossed and eyebrows lifting into her hairline.

“On them?” Rossi questioned.

JJ motioned with her hand back to the screen. Six sets of eyes moved over the photo; the words “U LOSE” scrawled in ink across the foreheads of the two men.

“Resorting to murder to win a football game?” Emily asked, eyes narrowed.

“And why use the forensic countermeasure of staged alcohol poisoning, only to backtrack and assert it as a murder?” Spencer pondered, pursing his lips.

“Whatever the reason, we’ve got two dead college students and a definite signature. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch told them, closing his case file.

⧭⧭⧭

“No sign of forced entry.” Derek walked through the entry hallway and into the living space. “Doesn’t look like there was any struggle, either.”

Rossi thumbed through the mail on the kitchen counter and peered around the small space. “Everything you’d expect in a boys’ college dorm room: dishes in the sink, generic decor, general mess. Nothing that stands out.”

“Agents, thank you so much for coming.” A tall man in a dark suit stepped across the threshold of the apartment. He stuck out his hand for Rossi to shake. “Steven Barrett, Dean of Students.”

“I’m Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi. This is SSA Derek Morgan.” Derek nodded from his place in the living room.

“I apologize for not meeting you when you arrived. We’re dealing with a grieving campus,” Barrett said, running a hand over his face. “I’m actually on my way to speak to the Board, but I wanted to check in with you before. I’m not sure I can be of much help, but I can try to answer any questions you might have.”

“These boys were seniors, but they still lived on campus. Is that typical?” Rossi asked, gesturing around the apartment.

“Uh, yes, it is for student athletes,” Barrett confirmed with a nod. “OSU teams have demanding, sometimes grueling practice schedules. Being on campus simplifies things, allows students to get to classes and practices, as well as utilize the dining halls.”

“Does this building have security cameras?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. All of our buildings do. I’ll let Campus PD know you’ll need access to the footage.” Barrett’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached for it and punched the button to answer the call. “Yes. Yes, I—I’m finishing up with the FBI now. I understand. I’m on my way.” He ended the call and pocketed the phone. “I’m sorry to leave you, gentlemen. Our top priority right now is supporting our students and community through this tragedy. Part of that healing process is finding out who did this to Tyler and Leon. So anything else you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” He turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall.

Derek shook his head. “I’m glad I don’t have to do that job right about now.”

Rossi gave another glance around the nondescript apartment and sighed. “Call Garcia and ask her if she’s found any other cases that could be related. And let’s hope there’s something useful on that security footage.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Based on lividity and rigor mortis, I was able to put the time of death between 8:00 and 10:00pm on Wednesday evening. The blood alcohol content for both boys was over five times the legal limit. I’ve never seen anything like it,” the medical examiner mused.

Emily looked over the bodies, her arms crossed. “Dr. Saraj, about how much would they have to drink for the level to be that high?”

“When drinking, the level of alcohol in our blood reaches a peak before it drops off after the last drink ingested,” Spencer supplied. “In a typical night of drinking, spread over the course of several hours, the average man can have 8-12 drinks without ever reaching lethal levels. But considering each victim weighed around 230 pounds, they’d have had to ingest approximately 180 ounces of beer or 18.75 ounces of liquor to reach a lethal blood alcohol content.”

Dr. Saraj glanced at Spencer before adding, “Look, this is a college town. Kids drink. But... to have had this much alcohol still detectable in their system post-mortem indicates that these boys drank at least the equivalent of a 30 rack, by themselves, in less than an hour.” She flipped up the first page of the report in her hands, eyes scanning the second. “And the toxicology screen also found trace amounts of ketamine.”

Spencer bent over the examining table and adjusted the wrist of one of the boys with a gloved hand. “Doctor, are these ligature marks?”

“Oh, yes,” Dr. Saraj agreed, nodding. “They’re relatively faint, so I almost missed them. But I found similar marks on both boys on the wrists and ankles.”

“So,” Emily said, gesturing with her hands, “the unsub doses them with ketamine to gain control, ties them up, forces them to drink lethal amounts of alcohol, and then— what?” She looked to Spencer. “Waits for them to pass out before removing the restraints and leaving the message?”

Spencer examined the marker scrawls. “Were you able to determine what the message was written with and if it was left pre- or post-mortem?”

“My guess would be it was written with some type of permanent marker, but I can’t say for sure,” Dr. Saraj said. “We’re analyzing the residue now, and I can send the report your way as soon as I have it. As for when it was written, I couldn't tell you.” She shook her head. “The one simple mercy is that these boys would have been out cold for a while before they died.”

⧭⧭⧭

“I’m so sorry. I know how difficult this is. Anything that you can tell us will be helpful in finding the person who did this,” JJ encouraged softly. “Anyone that Tyler might have had an argument with recently or who he mentioned having problems with?”

“No, no. He was—he was just your typical boy,” Mrs. Allen sniffled. “Playing football and hanging out with his friends,” she said, voice hitching. “Oh my god.” She dropped her head into her hands.

“He didn’t have time to have problems,” Mr. Allen asserted. “He spent all his free time on the field. Coach had them out there for two-a-days until classes started. He’s the quarterback. He was leading that team to the first national title since 1945.” He stood to his feet, hands clenched at his sides. “Some lunatic murdered my boy and you’re sitting around talking to us while they’re out there, walking free.”

“Sir, I promise you that we have some of the best agents in the country working on your son’s case,” JJ assured. “But in order to help them do their job, we need to know as much as we can about who Tyler was.”

Across the bullpen, Hotch sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Williams. “Leon was a good boy. Football was his life. He loved being a part of this team. It was the season of a lifetime,” Mr. Williams said.

“We taught him better than to be drinking and carrying on,” Mrs. Williams added.

“Can you think of anything or anyone he might have mentioned recently that was out of the ordinary? Anything that was bothering him or causing him distress?” Hotch questioned.

“He was feeling pressure about the season, but he’s been handling that kind of thing since he was twelve years old.” Mr. Williams shared an almost indiscernible look with his wife. “He got into—into the same kinds of trouble any college kid gets in. Nothing that could have gotten him murdered.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Yeah, baby girl, what d’ya got for me?” Derek held the phone out so that Rossi could listen in as they waited in the OSU security office.

“Well, my handsome knight, I wish I could tell you more but so far, I’m coming up empty with similar cases,” Penelope sighed. “Nothing that matches our alcohol poisoning M.O. or the signature. I just expanded the search to surrounding states, and I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Anything on our two victims?” Rossi asked.

“Now that’s where it gets interesting,” Penelope mused, tapping the fluffy end of her pen into the palm of her hand. “There’s nothing. Zilch, nada.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes. “And that’s interesting because...?”

“Come on, sir,” Penelope scoffed. “Two young, athletic, good-looking college football stars and there’s nothing at all? Nothing scandalous on social media. No run-ins with campus PD. Not even a write up from an RA.”

Derek tilted his head in thought. “Hotch and JJ said their conversations with the parents told a similar story.”

“Okay, but no one is this squeaky clean, particularly not at a Big 12 college. Everyone has some dirt,” Penelope insisted. “I haven’t found it yet, but there’s gotta be something out there. When I have it, you’ll know it!”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Derek drawled.

“Over and out!” Penelope jabbed the button to end the call.

The OSU officer waved them over with his hand. “I’ve got it queued up to 6:24pm. You can see the boys here,” he pointed on the screen at the two victims, “entering the north entrance of the dining hall.”

Derek leaned toward the monitor. “So they leave practice, come through the dining hall for dinner. When do they leave?”

The footage sped up on the screen, then stopped. “Here. 7:01.”

“Rossi, you seeing this?” Derek slid his eyes over.

Rossi nodded. “Is there any way to enhance these frames?”

The officer shrugged his shoulders. “Not on this system. Honestly, the camera quality isn’t great. I’ve been trying to get them to invest in an upgraded OS, but you know—budget woes. Your analyst might be able to do more.”

“It’s not going to matter.” Derek sighed and straightened up. “She’s careful of her angles.”

“I couldn’t find them on any grounds cameras, but they pop back up entering the dorm. Here, at 7:12.”

“All three of them,” Rossi noted. He looked at Derek. “And like you said, she’s discreet.”

“They all go upstairs to the apartment,” the officer continued, “but only the girl leaves. At 8:43.”

⧭⧭⧭

“We have a witness from the cafeteria that confirms that the boys ate with a dark-haired young woman in a red coat,” Hotch said, arms crossed. “But other than those two details, the witness couldn’t recall anything else and said they’d never seen her before.”

“So we’ve got the two victims entering their apartment with an unknown woman. They’re upstairs for an hour and a half before she leaves,” Emily recounted.

Derek stood with his hands on his hips. “And in that time, she manages to dose and gain control of two boys that are more than double her size and funnel a lethal amount of alcohol into them. Now the question is why?”

As the team converged around the conference room table, a uniformed officer entered into the doorway. “Agent Jareau? There’s a possible witness—says she might have some new information.”

JJ nodded to the team and moved to the doorway. A petite young woman stood in the center of the bullpen, wringing her hands. When her eyes landed on JJ, she let her arms fall to her side. As JJ approached, she motioned with her hand for the girl to sit at the closest desk. “Hi, I’m Jennifer. I heard you wanted to speak to someone about this case. Can I have your name?”

The girl nodded. “Um, I’m Cassie. I saw the announcement you made. About the woman in the red coat. I heard you say that she had brown hair. Is that true?”

JJ cocked her head slightly. “Yeah, the witness and security footage we have shows a woman with dark hair walking with Tyler and Leon. Why do you ask?”

Cassie’s eyes darted around the bullpen, and she drew her arms tightly over her chest. “I just— um—well, I—”

“Would it help if we moved somewhere a little quieter?” JJ suggested. When Cassie nodded and stood, JJ placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and directed her toward an empty interview room. Cassie sat in the chair farthest from the door, and JJ sat opposite her. “Is there something you wanted to tell me about the woman? Or is it something else that’s on your mind?”

Cassie let out a long breath. “When I heard that they were dead, I— I was relieved. That sounds awful, but it’s true.”

JJ tread lightly over her next question. “You felt relieved. Why was that?”

Cassie looked directly at JJ. “I’ve been looking over my shoulder everywhere I go for the last seven months. I won’t have to do that anymore.”

“Can you tell me more about what you mean?”

Cassie took a breath and closed her eyes for a long second, before opening them and continuing. “There was a huge party in the spring. I mean, there were, like, hundreds of people there.” Cassie’s eyes went wide. “I never go to parties like that. But it was the end of the year, and my friend—well, I went with my friend. She got invited.”

“Were Tyler and Leon at this party?” JJ asked.

“Everybody was. I mean, everybody who’s somebody at OSU was there. We saw them right away. The whole team was there, but people treated those two like kings.” Cassie looked down at her hands. “We were drinking... a lot. At some point, Laney and I got separated. I tried calling her phone a bunch of times, but the party was really loud. I—I didn’t want to leave without her, but I was getting really messed up. I had a guy friend from one of my classes walk me home.” She swiped at her eye with the back of her hand. “Laney didn’t get back until the morning. Her clothes were all torn up, her hair had... blood in it, and she—she had a bruise under her eye.” She looked up at JJ, eyes shining with tears. “They raped her. I left her behind, and they raped her,” she whispered.

JJ reached across the table for Cassie’s hand. “Cassie, I’m so sorry. What happened to Laney was not your fault, or hers. Do you understand me?” JJ paused before continuing. Cassie looked down. “Do you know if she reported it?”

Cassie nodded. “I’m the one who went with her to the infirmary. They did a kit and confirmed it. When we went to Campus PD, they did nothing. Said Laney was wasted, and there was no one that could back up her story.”

JJ squeezed her hand. “So there was no official report filed?”

Cassie laughed coldly. “Oh, they wrote a report. I think if we ask them to, they have to. But they wouldn’t name Tyler or Leon in it. Said they didn’t want to ‘give legs to any gossip.’”

JJ’s mouth stretched into a thin line. “Where’s Laney now?”

“I don’t know.” Cassie shook her head. “She didn’t come back to OSU this fall. I haven’t really talked to her since—” She looked at JJ. “I can’t get the image of her out of my head. How she looked when she came through the door that morning. What they did to her… I’m not sorry that they’re dead.” Her eyes were shining with rage. “People knew what happened… and no one did anything. And those two were still the kings of campus.”

⧭⧭⧭

The team absorbed the new information quietly. “So Garcia was right. They did have something to hide.” Derek’s phone buzzed. “Speaking of. Hey mama, you’re on speaker.”

“I hope you’re all sitting down,” Penelope warned. “I expanded the parameters of my original VICAP search to include the surrounding states. No hits on suspicious deaths by alcohol poisoning. However, the U LOSE signature? Seven hits across Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, and Kansas.”

“So our unsub’s been traveling across the South—” Emily started.

“Oh, I’m not done,” Penelope continued. “Just to double check, I expanded the search area to the continental US. Our unsub has been busy. Over 30 murders with this signature, all across the country, dating back to March 2007. All different M.O.s: gunshot, stabbing, strangulation, you name it. But all with U LOSE scrawled across their forehead in—get this—liquid eyeliner.”

“Anything tying the victims together, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“All men, mostly white, but all across different ages, occupations, and marital statuses. At first glance, there’s no real connection,” Penelope answered.

“What about on second glance?” Hotch prompted.

“Way ahead of you, sir. I did a little digging.” Penelope shrugged. “Okay, a lot of digging—most of it legal. Every single one of these victims had at least one sexual assault allegation. Some are official police reports, some are HR complaints, some are sealed court records. But in every case, the victim’s cause of death is directly related to the details of the assault records. Women that were held at knifepoint, their attacker was stabbed to death. If they were choked, he was strangled. If they were held at gunpoint, he died of a gunshot wound. Et cetera, et cetera.” Penelope twirled her pen. “The differing M.O.s combined with the fact that the unsub kept crossing state lines kept local PDs and field offices from making the connection.”

“Garcia, can you search OSU PD records for an incident report?” JJ asked.

Garcia tapped rapidly across her keyboard. “Absolutely, sugar, when would it have been filed?”

“It would’ve been this year, sometime at the end of April or beginning of May,” JJ answered. “The victim would be named as Laney Collins.”

After a few moments, Garcia peered through her green cat-eye glasses at the report. “Mmm, I’ve got one incident report, filed on May 7th. And woof, this report is not much to go on. The responding officer wrote a whopping three sentences. According to him, Laney was incapacitated and thus was not a credible witness.” Garcia twirled her pen. “The alleged attackers, who are not named, denied Laney’s account of what happened. Because there were no other witnesses, Officer Thorough deemed that no further action was necessary.” She jabbed her pen in the direction of the screen. “And this, my friends, is why women don’t bother reporting.”

“Good work, Garcia,” said Hotch.

“There’s one more interesting detail from the report,” Garcia continued. “The dean of students signed off on it.”

“So Barrett knew about this the whole time,” Derek fumed.

“And again, people wonder why women don’t report,” Garcia repeated, ending the call.

“So our unsub is seeking justice for women she believes have been failed by the system. We’re looking for a vigilante, carrying out revenge killings,” Rossi concluded.

Derek nodded. “And she’s organized and efficient; she finished with Tyler and Leon in less than two hours.”

“She’s smart and she blends in, doesn’t draw too much attention to herself,” JJ added.

“She’s meticulous and has at least some knowledge of forensic countermeasures, considering there’s no physical evidence tying her to any of the scenes,” Spencer remarked.

“And she knew enough to keep her face off the security footage,” Emily finished.

“Rossi, Emily, and I will stay here and deliver the profile,” Hotch directed. “JJ, I’d like you to speak to the families again, see if they knew about the rape. Reid, Morgan, talk to Barrett and see what else he might be trying to keep quiet.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Makes you wonder just how many people knew what happened,” Derek considered, closing the car door.

“It’s estimated that twenty percent of student victims of sexual assault report it to their university, but less than one percent of assailants receive any type of disciplinary action,” Spencer cited, making his way toward the sidewalk.

Derek shook his head. “And so the victims don’t see the point in reporting it. Your attacker gets to walk around like nothing even happened. Cassie told JJ that she felt like she had a target on her back once they reported Laney’s assault.”

As they walked up the blacktop driveway to the entrance of Barrett’s home, Spencer slowed his steps as he noticed the front door. “Morgan.” He nodded at the door, slightly ajar.

Derek drew his gun and moved ahead of Spencer. He pushed the door slowly open and called out, “Mr. Barrett?” In the foyer were the remnants of a broken vase and a small trail of blood. “Call Hotch, let him know we’ve got trouble here.”

Derek and Spencer worked to quietly clear the rooms, one by one. Derek stopped at the bottom of the stairs and motioned to Spencer. As they started up the stairs, a woman’s voice called out, “Shut up! You had nothing to say before. So now, you’re just going to listen.”

Derek reached the top of the stairs and started down the hallway. He reached the open door where a woman stood, her back to the door. Behind her, Derek could see Barrett, sitting on the floor, blood dripping from a gash on his head. His hands were raised in front of his chest, palms facing out. Derek stopped, his gun trained on the woman, and murmured, “Laney?”

The woman pivoted her body, her short blonde hair whipping around. Derek saw tears in her eyes and a revolver in her hand. “Don’t,” she warned.

“Laney, my name is Derek. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk. I need you to put the gun down.”

“No!” Laney screamed. “You don’t know what he’s done.” She shook the gun in Barrett’s direction, and Barrett closed his eyes.

Derek spoke softly. “I do, Laney. I do know. I know what happened to you. I know that he kept Tyler and Leon’s names off the report. I know that he didn’t help you when you needed it most. I know that he let them get away with--”

“Rape. He let them get away with rape. Because he cares more about reputation and football than what happens to women on his campus. They ruined my life.” Laney turned away from Derek and put both hands on the gun. “They ruined my life, and you did nothing. And then they walked around campus like they were invincible, because you taught them they were.”

Derek moved further into the room, into Laney’s eyesight. Spencer moved into the doorway, covering Derek. “Laney, look at me. I’m putting my gun away.” Derek held his hands up and then moved to holster his gun. “Doing this won’t make the pain go away.”

“How many others? How many other women did he do this to?” Laney let out a painful sob. “If I don’t stop him, it never ends.”

“Listen to me.” Derek took a step closer to her. “Killing him won’t change what happened, Laney. It won’t. Believe me. I know how you feel.”

“People love to say that when they’re trying to shut you up. How could you possibly know how I feel?” Laney spit out.

“Someone hurt me, just like they hurt you. And nobody was there to help me. No one was there to listen.” Laney froze, eyes shifting to meet Derek’s. “I wanted to hurt him, Laney. Wanted to make him feel the same pain I felt. I wanted him to suffer.” He moved another step closer. “I know that those men hurt you, and I know that he let them get away with it. And I am so, so sorry. But you’re stronger than anyone knows, Laney. You are the only person who has the power to help others who didn’t get justice. I have a friend who’s spent her whole life helping survivors, and I know she’d love to talk with you.” He took another step. “You are the only person who can stop it from happening to someone else. You can make sure he’s held accountable for what he’s done. But if you pull that trigger, you can never go back,” Derek warned.

Laney looked at Derek, his hand outstretched, wordlessly asking her to give him the gun. She looked at Barrett, crying and silently begging her to show him the mercy she never got. “I wish I’d been the one to kill them,” she whispered.

The gun dropped out of her hand as Derek stepped forward to catch her. He kicked the gun into the doorway, and Spencer recovered it. “I’ve got you,” Derek said, helping Laney out of the room. “Shh, it’s ok, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Spencer moved to lift Barrett off the ground and helped him into a chair by the window. Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer caught a flash of red below the window. He stumbled over Barrett, nose almost pressed to the glass as he stared out. The woman froze, eyes locked on Spencer’s. His mouth opened slightly as he stared at her, bewildered. By the time his brain caught up, she had already disappeared from view.

Spencer turned and raced down the stairs, clinging to the railing as he nearly missed a step. He burst out the front door into the driveway, sprinting around the side of the house. He heard Derek call his name, saw the other SUVs pulling up, but he kept running. He skidded to a stop at the edge of the backyard, and then spun in a full circle, eyes frantically scanning the perimeter.

Hotch approached from the side of the house, gun drawn. “Reid! Are you all right?”

Spencer took a last look, scanned from east to west. “Yeah, yeah. I just—I thought I saw—I thought I saw something.” He shook his head. “Barrett’s inside. He’s got a head laceration, but he’ll be fine.”

Hotch lowered his gun and nodded. “And Laney’s not our unsub. So we’re back to the beginning.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Strauss is asking us to head back to Quantico.” Hotch pocketed his phone and looked at the team. “We’ll move the cases to our watch list and flag the signature for hits in VICAP. From what we know about the unsub’s behavior, we know she’s no longer in the area.” He gestured to the evidence board. “Our best course of action is to keep the profile in our periphery for now. We can do that from the BAU. It’s late. Go to the hotel, get some rest. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“I’m absolutely starving.” Emily slipped into her jacket and headed for the door. “Anybody want to hit up that 24 hour diner?”

Derek and JJ quickly agreed, following Emily from the conference room. JJ turned back, eyeing Spencer. “You coming, Spence?”

“I’m just really tired.” His voice lilted up, almost a question. “Next time, though.”

JJ gave him a look but didn’t press him. “Have a good night, Spence.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He gathered up the case files, not quite ready to put them away.

⧭⧭⧭

Spencer’s eyelids felt heavy as he walked through the lobby of the hotel. He really was tired. He blamed the exhaustion for what he thought he saw through the window at Barrett’s. His fatigued mind was seeing things that weren’t there. He practically floated into the elevator and up to his room. Sliding the room key through the slot, the door beeped open and Spencer stepped inside. He flicked on the light and dropped his bag on the floor, loosening his tie as he walked toward one of the sling back chairs sat by the window. He paused just before he reached the chair, his gaze lingering over something on the desk. A note hastily scrawled on hotel stationary.

623.

Spencer lifted the note with two careful fingers. “623?” He turned it over, looking for the rest of the message, but the paper was blank other than the number. He lowered the note, and his eyes landed on a small plastic card where the paper had rested on the table. Not just a card. A room key.

⧭⧭⧭

Spencer stared at the door of the room. Room 623. He turned his head and slowly looked up and then down the hallway. He took a breath and raised his hand to the door. He knocked in the familiar rhythm: five knocks, pause, two knocks. He pressed his ear close to the door, listening for any movement inside. When he heard nothing, he knocked again; the same pattern, but a little louder. He listened again. Nothing. Spencer felt a bead of sweat creep down the nape of his neck. He thought about turning around, about walking back down the two flights of stairs to his room and getting into bed.

Instead, he pulled the keycard from his pocket. As he lifted the card with one hand, he used his other to raise the strap on his holster. He held his breath as he swiped the card through the slot and heard the beep of the lock. Drawing his gun from the holster, Spencer slowly turned the handle of the door.

The room was mostly dark. Only the yellow glow of one of the bedside lamps illuminated the space. Spencer stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. Again, his mind said to turn around. Yet his feet carried him further into the room. He could see now that the sling backs were facing toward the window. There were two glasses from the mini bar on the table between them.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” a familiar voice mused.

Spencer startled and then swallowed audibly, a cartoon character realizing he’s in serious trouble. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“You can put the gun away,” she continued. “Really. Come sit down, Reid.”

Hearing her say his name sucked all the air out of his lungs. He closed the remaining distance between them, staring dumbly at her perched in the armchair. She gave him a small smile, warm despite the nervous energy in the air. “Hey, Reid.”

“Elle.” Spencer sunk into the chair across from her. “I—I thought I was seeing things. Earlier. At Barrett’s.”

She studied him quietly. “This hair is a good look for you.”

“Thanks,” Spencer blushed, smoothing down the hair at the nape of his neck. He quickly dropped his hand. “It was you then.”

“What was me?” Elle asked innocuously.

“You were at Steven Barrett’s house today. In the yard.” Spencer folded his hands to keep from wringing them. “You were wearing a red coat.”

Elle lifted one of the glasses to her lips, taking a sip of the clear liquor, ice cubes rattling. She swallowed and gestured to the other glass. “Have a drink.”

“I, um, I don’t drink anymore.” Elle raised an eyebrow. “A lot has happened since… the last time I saw you.” Spencer smoothed his hands down the tops of his thighs. “You were there today. Elle, did you—are you…” He wasn’t even sure what question to ask.

Elle ran her fingertip around the rim of her glass. She was quiet for a long time. Spencer fidgeted in his seat, but stayed quiet, waiting. Elle set the glass down.

“Do you remember that night in Dayton? In the hotel room?” Spencer looked at her pointedly. Elle let out a laugh. “Sorry, I forgot who I’m talking to; of course you remember.” Their eyes met. Spencer felt she was looking right through him. “You told me that I’d won. That because Garner was dead, and I was alive, I won.”

“Elle—” Spencer started.

“You asked, Reid. This is my answer.” She screwed the cap off the bottle of gin. Pouring the remainder of the bottle into her glass, she continued, “It took time, but I started to feel safe in my own home again. I could close my eyes without seeing his face. I could take a shower without bringing my gun.” She downed the rest of her glass. “When I killed Lee, I gave that same freedom back to the women he’d raped. They could exist in the world knowing that he would never hurt them, ever again.” She smiled ruefully. “And it felt… good. It felt right. And after years of having watched people be destroyed by monsters… I don’t know. It was just something I had to do. To bring that freedom and that safety back to other women who had been hurt and broken and alone. To destroy their monsters.” Elle looked at him then, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I don’t expect you to understand or approve. But the answer to your question is yes.”

Spencer took a breath and asked, “Why’d you put the key in my room? You could have just… disappeared.”

Elle shook her head. “I chose this. I knew what I was doing and what it would mean. Most of the time, I’m fine, great even. Because being able to give these women justice is the greatest gift. But with this work, you can’t really keep anybody close. No holidays or birthdays. No dates or girls nights.” She shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to see what would happen. What the boy genius would do.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Spencer admitted.

“Well, that’s a first.” Elle smiled, but Spencer could see apprehension in the rigidness of her shoulders, in the slight bouncing of her leg.

“I should probably arrest you,” he considered.

Her leg stopped. “You probably should.”

Spencer looked down at his hands. He ran his fingers up to the crook of his elbow, ghosting over the scars there. His mind raced from memory to memory: Elle on the train car; Tobias Hankle standing over him; Elle in the hospital bed; the needle in his arm; Elle in the hotel in Dayton; the click of an empty chamber.

“Elle, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling you that you’d won.” She was motionless, staring at him. He continued, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it was like. To be consumed and overcome by a memory.” Now it was Spencer’s eyes that shone with tears. “I didn’t know that the trauma could… fester in your brain like an infection that you can’t get rid of. I don’t know if winning is even possible after something like that.” He rubbed his hand under his eye and cleared his throat. “It was an awful thing to say. And I’m sorry.”

Elle tipped her head back, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “All’s forgiven.”

Spencer reached out and gently grabbed Elle’s hand. “I’ve been so tired recently. I thought I saw something through the window at Steven Barrett’s house. But when I did a perimeter check, I didn’t find anything.” Elle dropped her head back down and turned to look at him. “We’re headed back to Quantico in the morning. We’ll, um, be keeping tabs on VICAP hits on the signature.” Spencer gave her hand one soft squeeze before standing. He let a small, bittersweet smile move over his face.

He made it to the door before he heard her voice again.

“If I asked you to stay, would you say yes?”

Spencer swiveled back to look at her, the door just barely open. Elle’s arms were crossed over her chest. Her eyes were dark and wide and full of storms. “Just for a little while longer?”

Spencer turned and moved his eyes up the length of the doorway, considering. He heard Elle let out a breath. His own breath stuttered. He closed the door softly. He put his hands in his pockets and turned back to her. “I’ve got a little while.”

#vicficwriterchallenge #criminal minds #tw rape #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #david rossi #derek morgan #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #elle greenaway #homoose writes

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smiting-finger · 5 years ago

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HP AU Headcanons

I just noticed that I’ve hit 500 followers ( ?! omg you guys!! (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄), so I cleaned up and expanded on some of my HP AU headcanons from the AO3 comments section.

Things that happen before fic #1

During the War, Wei Wuxian has at least ten different balls in the air, trying to keep the innocent Wen children (+elderly) from Jin Guangshan, including:

The Stygian Tiger Seal,

Becoming an Animagus (which no one knows about, and tbh he was hoping for something more combat-useful than a bunny, but hey, at least he’s not a dog),

Inferi (so many dead bodies lying around, and their ex-inhabitants aren’t using them, so he may as well--)

ANIMAL Inferi (because a bitch cannot be picky when a bitch has no army), but he mostly abandons the idea after the first few battles because if you’re looking to enchant things to work as an army, it’s easier to enchant 1000 of the same shape of thing than to enchant 3 each of 257 different things with different shapes, sizes and capabilities

Booby-trapping the fuck out of Yiling with:

Various blood arrays (ranging from magical versions of “surprise!-now-you’re-in-a-net-hanging-out-of-a-tree” and “surprise!-you’ve-fallen-into-a-hidden-hole” to “surprise!-now-your-head-is-gone”)

A man-eating tomb inspired by Nie Huaisang’s ancestral tomb, possibly made possible by an ancestral blade that Wei Wuxian pilfered “borrowed” from said ancestral tomb,

A magical oubliette - key to the storyline!

He was intending to stash the Stygian Tiger Seal in here to stop Jin Guangshan getting at it, because Jin Guangshan would either:

Fail to get in

Get in but fail to get out

Wei Wuxian either stocks the oubliette with necessities-for-life, or leaves enough loopholes in the spellwork so that anyone trapped in there would be able to access necessities-for-life (despite not being able to magic themselves out) because: 1) What if someone accidentally falls in, and 2) Although he’d be okay with Jin Guangshan dying, in the ideal outcome of his grand plan, they need him alive for Wizengamot trials, etc.

The plan is perfect, except that Jin Guangshan catches him in the act of stashing the seal, and in the ensuing struggle, Wei Wuxian gets himself (and the seal, thankfully) trapped.

(So he gives himself a pat on the back for making the oubliette liveable - “Thanks, past-me.”)

During the ten years, Wei Wuxian works on the magical equivalent of digging a hole out of a stone prison with a single spoon (slowly working on loosening various parts of his containment spells or trying to find a way to send a message to the outside world via his food-and-air loopholes), and also works on some other hobby projects in his spare time because the going is slow. To his credit, he’s actually almost got it by the time Nie Huaisang stumbles on his notes and gets him out.

In the meantime, Jin Guangshan has died, and Jin Guangyao has taken over his father’s:

position as Minister of Magic;

search for the Stygian Tiger seal.

Either because he’s looking for the Stygian Tiger seal, or because he’s noticed Nie Huaisang skirting a little too close to the truth behind his brother’s death and is following him, he stumbles upon Nie Huaisang freeing Wei Wuxian.

[Insert duelling]

Wei Wuxian gets wounded by a curse, turns into a rabbit when Jin Guangyao isn’t looking, flees into the forest and ends up at Gusu.

He never plans to try to cross the ward perimeter, but then he gets noticed by the dog...

Things that happen during fic #1

Once in Gusu, Wei Wuxian’s plan is to recover from the curse and then go back to have it out with Jin Guangyao.

His initial reason for not doing a “surprise!” reveal to Lan Wangji is that he’s not actually clear on what LWJ’s opinion of him as Yiling Patriarch is - i.e. what if it gets him turned in to the Ministry, the tender mercies of Jin Guangyao and a Wizengamot that’s Jin-controlled and/or already decided that Wei Wuxian is guilty?

(Lan Wangji blames himself for this: “a boy who would not accept his help because Lan Zhan failed to clearly tell him what he was offering.”)

His reasons for still not doing a “surprise!” reveal to Lan Wangji after 1) spending time with him, 2) spending time with the WWX-shaped hole in his life and 3) finally Getting It are that:

He also Gets that everyone and their dog (lul) already Get That, too

Jin Guangyao knows Wei Wuxian is at large, which therefore makes Lan Wangji suspect numero uno on the list of People Who Would Hide Wei Wuxian

(Wei Wuxian is proven 100% in the right regarding this when Jin Guangyao comes knocking for control over the Academy and Lan Wangji acts in precisely the way he does)

If Wei Wuxian is caught, he can at least keep Lan Wangji safe if Veritaserum shows that he actually knew nothing

He does, however, secretly change back at least twice to:

Talk to Lan Wangji while he’s asleep;

Break out of Lan Wangji’s rooms to go roaming around the school.

As soon as Wei Wuxian is recovered, he goes off to fight Jin Guangyao on his turf (before Jin Guangyao can come back to Gusu and try again).

Unfortunately, this coincides precisely with Jin Guangyao coming back to Gusu and trying again - they out-manoeuvre each other and each ends up at the other’s base.

Wei Wuxian is the first one to realise what’s happened and rushes back.

Being unconscious, Lan Wangji misses out on:

Nie Huaisang bringing out his vast stores of proof in re: the Jin machinations behind his brother’s death (and incidentally, his discovery of Wei Wuxian)

Jin Guangyao being bound and arrested by non-corrupt Aurors in front of Lan Xichen, the previously-Imperius-ed Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, the retrieved-from-hiding teachers/students/Lan elders

Wei Wuxian taking advantage of this audience to be like “Now all of Gusu knows you’re evil!”

Wei Wuxian being proven to therefore be not (that) evil after all.

Especially given that the larger part of the jury is now from the generation who had their youth consumed by/were greatly changed by the War, and who mostly agree that the Jins shitting on the innocent Wens was kind of gross anyway (as represented by Lan Xichen).

Things that happen after fic #1

Wei Wuxian falls into teaching because:

During his ten years of being trapped, he invented some really neat magical things

Nothing better to do

Don’t want to leave Lan Wangji just yet (or: lol just try prying yourself out of the deathgrip Lan Wangji is using to metaphorically clutch you to his manly chest, I dare you)

Or rather, he hangs around because of the above, and then Lan Wangji helps him to demo something in class, and he’s like “Sure!”. And then Lan Xichen sees this and is like “hey can you help me demo something too”, and he’s like “Sure!” and -

(And then after this goes on a while, Lan Qiren is like “IF YOU’RE GONNA HANG AROUND AND EAT OUR FOOD YOU MAY AS WELL EARN YOUR KEEP” and also “WE MAY AS WELL PUT YOU ON PAYROLL TO AVOID EMPLOYMENT LAW VIOLATIONS AND ALSO FOR TAX PURPOSES”.)

Wei Wuxian totally enters his first class as a rabbit, and sits on the desk, nodding to each student as they come in. And then when everyone’s present, he stands on his hind legs like he’s going to teach as a rabbit, too, just to see what the students will do.

(If Jin Ling is in that class, the answer is: riot)

Lan Wangji is the kind of Professor who’s consistently a hard-arse because:

He wants to push you, as a student, to reach your full potential; and

He wants you, as a student, to have clear/consistent expectations to work and grow within.

On the other hand, Wei Wuxian is the kind of Professor who’s like “Everything is lalala” during term, and then suddenly the exam is diabolical, made up of 70% lateral-thinking/problem-solving and only 30% of things you actually studied because “That’s real life, kids.”

Now that Lan Wangji knows he’s the rabbit, Wei Wuxian uses his powers to do really dumbshit things like

Perve on Lan Wangji in the shower (Lan Wangji looks down, sees a little black nose under the cubicle door and is like “...”)

Perve on Lan Wangji while he’s changing in their room (Lan Wangji pulls off his shirt, sees a little black nose peeking out from under the bed, is like “...” and drops the shirt straight onto the rabbit’s head)

Upskirt Lan Wangji through his robes (Lan Xichen sees a little black shape running behind his brother in the halls, constantly darting forward to peek under the hem of his flowing robe and is like “...”)

Other things

When Lan Sizhui is five or six or something, he enters a stage of ultimate Lan-Wangji-hero-worship, where he dresses like his dad and follows him around, doing everything he does. So:

Lan Wangji sweeps down the school hallway, one arm in front and one arm behind (in true Chinese Gentleman Style), and a tiny Lan Sizhui follows behind, running slightly to keep up but also holding the same arm in front and the same arm behind.

Lan Wangji stops to look up at the moon, Lan Sizhui also stops to look up at the moon. Lan Wangji nods at students/his brother/a fellow teacher/his uncle, and tiny Lan Sizhui does the same, all the while darting little upwards glances at Lan Wangji to make sure he’s doing it right.

The students/Lan Xichen/teachers/Lan Qiren think this is adorable (”The Little Professor has graced me with his approval ;A;!”), so no one says anything in case Lan Sizhui gets self-conscious and stops.

And then before he knows it, Lan Sizhui has picked up all the things as habits and welp, this is who he is now.

In re: Wen Ning:

All the years Wei Wuxian is gone, with it being common knowledge that the Wen clan was completely wiped out in the War, Wen Ning thinks he’s alone and mostly wanders the Wizarding world by himself (not daring to go anywhere too populous in case he alarms people, but helping anyone he stumbles across if they’re in need - without being seen, if he can manage it).

Then Wei Wuxian comes back, and with him is Sizhui, and Wen Ning thinks, “Oh, I’m not alone! I have one family member and one friend!”

But actually, all the Gusu students have already adopted him, so he has an entire school of family, he just doesn’t know it yet.

One afternoon the students catch him playing two-man Quidditch with Wei Wuxian as goalie, and are like “!!! Why didn’t we think of that?!” so now Wen Ning plays in all the casual games, and the students fight over who gets to have them on their team.

In re: Mianmian:

Mianmian spends the years following the War as a wandering cursebreaker, disarming all the nasty magical mines/traps/offensive spells that now litter the country, helping magical folk who don’t have enough skill/expertise to deal with the problems themselves, as well as any hapless muggles who get unwittingly caught.

She probably meets her husband when she saves him from something.

She becomes a teacher after Lan Xichen finds out about her exploits and invites her to come back.

When her muggle husband comes to visit her workplace, he’s like “So this is where you grew up. Wow.” and he’s not even amazed by the magic, it’s that he picked the same day that Jiang Cheng came to visit Jin ling, so a rabbit shoots down the hallway and up Lan Wangji’s robes, a dog goes chasing after it, a shouting purple man goes charging after that (firing spells and yelling for Wei Wuxian to “COME BACK HERE!”), while being half-held back by a ... ghost? and it’s total bedlam.

And Mianmian is just like “Yup.”

#CQL #The Untamed #HP AU #Wangxian #陈情令，魔道祖师，#not-fic #mo dao zu shi

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fanficwriter013 · 5 years ago

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The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 30

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1908

Warnings: None

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man. When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood. While others expect Thor to make things more official. What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: Written with @avengerscompound

Chapter 30: Preparations

Loki burst into my room early the next morning to wake me up. I had been curled up tightly into Clarke’s side overnight, apparently, I’d started conditioning to move in close to warm bodies in my bed. I jumped at the sound of Loki shouting at me and sat up quickly while Clarke just blinked around the room bemused.

“You need to get up!” She barked. “You!” She pointed at Clarke. “There is breakfast out at the dining room.”

“I don’t get to eat?” I asked.

“You are being cleansed. You shall eat after the bonding. At the feast. When you have been bathed you will be given a soup made of herbs.” Loki explained, impatiently. “Now hurry up. I have too many things to do to be babysitting you. Get up and go to your bathroom. Now!”

I scrambled out of bed as Loki swept back out of the room. Clarke got out of bed slowly and stretched. “You think they’ll give your scalp a good scrub? Get rid of those impure thoughts?”

“If they get rid of those, there won’t be any of me left,” I joked and we both started laughing.

“Okay, you go get cleansed. I’m gonna eat. I’ll meet you back here to dress,” Clarke said.

I should have guessed by the fact that Loki kept saying cleansed that it wasn’t a simple bath. I was painted in thick, warm mud from head to toe and then wrapped in leaves and left for around half an hour. After that, I was hosed off and given an enema. They did hair removal everywhere except my eyebrows (which they shaped) and scalp. Something I normally didn’t really do. I was then taken into the large tub with four attendants and they started to scrub me down.

The water was hot and pungent. I couldn’t quite place the scent of the soaps they were using, but they were floral and slightly woody. They used large scrubbing brushes on my body and scrubbed my skin to the point that any part of my skin that wasn’t covered in the henhalda artwork, turned bright pink. They washed my hair. First with a soap. Then with hot oil that they left in for a while, before scrubbing it with soap again and finally a cream-like substance I assumed was the Asgardian equivalent of conditioner.

When they seemed happy with how clean I was, I was led out of the bath and dried off and oil was rubbed into my skin. By the time they were done, my skin glowed and my hair was as soft and shiny as it had ever been. The cleaning had done something to the Henhalda too. It was brighter and slightly reflective, and there were parts that now shimmered like they were alive.

I was given a thin robe and allowed to return to my room. Clarke was already in there, along with Katveil and another 4 women. Two were older, while two were around Katveil’s age.

Clarke was sitting on a large, comfortable-looking chair that had not been there before and three of the women were working on her. One doing her hair, one her nails and one giving her a pedicure. “Wow, they sure did clean you, huh?” Clarke said.

“Oh, yeah. Inside and out.” I said, making Clarke pull a face. “Morning, Kat,” I added smiling at her.

“Good morning, Elly,” Katveil said. “I’ve come to do any touch-ups on the art.”

I nodded and the two of us moved behind a screen that had been set up for dressing. “Are you excited?” She asked as I dropped my robe and she began to look me over closely, touching up any spot she wasn’t happy with.

“Oh yeah. A little freaking out. It’s a big deal.” I answered. “You know, the big ceremony. Living longer. New powers. Being cleansed.”

“I’d be nervous too,” Katveil said.

“You’ll be pleased to know that Hulk did great with the Henhalda,” Clarke said. “I saw Jax at breakfast. Well everyone really. Loki is going to have the kids with her all day. They’ll get ready with her and Thor. They have no idea what’s going on but they’re super excited about all the things that are happening.”

“Oh, that’s good. I’m glad they’re with one of their parents,” I said.

“Yeah. They’re good. Hulk has been in control since yesterday. He fell asleep at one point while they were doing Henhalda. Jax said he plans to stay in control until after the bath. So it’s probably Bruce now, or Bruce soon,” Clarke said.

“Oh good. There were definitely parts of the cleansing Bruce would not have enjoyed.” I said as Katveil turned me around.

“So I guess you get the nails and hair done next and then we dress,” Clarke said.

“Elly also has to drink the broth that was made for her. But that is essentially correct.” Katveil said. She stood back up and picked up my robe, holding it open for me. “I am done. Just stay standing for a little while.”

I nodded and slipped the robe back on. “Thank you again. You made the whole process very enjoyable.”

She hugged me and wished me good luck before leaving me with Clarke and the other women. Just after she left Loki came into the room, carrying a bowl with the twins marching after her.

“Mommy!” The twins, cried, breaking formation and running at me. I crouched down and hugged them both.

“Hello, my little terrors. Are you being good for Auntie Loki?” I asked.

“Yes,” they both said in unison.

“D’joo know dat everyone has dis on dem?” Pietro asked, scrunching his fingers on my arm where he could see the Henhalda.

“I know. It’s pretty isn’t it?” I asked. The twins had both been fascinated by the artwork when they had seen me last night and they both had made up a story to go along with the bits they could see.

“Wiwl it go away?” He asked.

“Eventually. It’s just a special thing for today,” I explained.

“Okay, my darlings. We have to take breakfast to all your parents. Say goodbye to your mother.” Loki said, with much more patience in her voice than when she’d come to wake me up.

“Otay,” they both said and hugged me again.

I stood when they let me go and Loki handed me the bowl. “Drink all of it. When it is time for the ceremony I shall return to take you personally with the twins. Do not go with anyone else.”

“Thank you, Loki,” I said.

“I shall be glad when this is over. I need a vacation,” she said, playfully. It made me chuckle and she shook her head and left the room followed by the twins.

“Did Loki…?” Clarke asked looking from the door back to me.

“I think she did. I’m her favorite,” I joked.

Clarke snorted. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

I drank the soup. It was pungent and tasted really medicinal and did nothing for the fact I was ravenous. I was then bustled into the chair where my hair was cut and styled. My nails were painted and my makeup was done.

When it was done my nails were painted with the same iridescent oil slick style the fabric of my dress was and decorated with Celtic style knotwork in gold. My eyeliner was done in a cat-eye style with gold and purple eyeshadow, and my lips were painted a deep red. I had my hair braided in a thick, loose braid with a gold and silver hair vine adorned with crystals wound through it.

The women left and the tailors bustled in immediately helping both myself and Clarke into our dresses. Clarke's was a shade of lavender to offset her eyes, in satin with ornate silver armor that sat on her hips, chest, and shoulders. The skirt ended at her knees and she wore knee-high black boots with the same silver plating on the sides and toes.

“Wow, Clarke,” I said as the women helped me into my dress. “You going to be my bridesmaid or security detail?”

“I can be both,” she teased.

They did a last few adjustments on the dress and then moved me in front of the mirror while they fit the gold diadem and veil in place. I couldn’t even believe I was looking at myself. I looked like a queen from a fantasy novel, dressed in shimmering liquid color and lace and painted in ornate detail. At my forehead sat a dark opal that shimmered with blue, red, and green and matched the rest of my outfit.

“God damn, Elise. You are a queen,” Clarke cursed. “Look at you.”

I smiled. “Well, at least I look the part.”

“Good luck to you, my lady,” one of the tailors said bowing slightly. “I shall fetch the lady Loki.”

The tailors left and Clarke came over and rubbed my arm. “Ready to become Mrs. Odinson?” She teased.

“That’s not how it works here,” I deadpanned.

She started laughing just as Loki came in followed by the children. She had a floor-length gown in her usual dark green and gold. The gold mostly forming panels around the bust but also running down her arms in elaborate scrollwork. She had smokey eyes and black lips, and on her head, she wore her horned crown.

Riley was wearing a white dress with a gold sash around the middle, while Pietro had white leggings and a gold tunic. They both had flowers in their hair. “Wow, mommy, you wook so beudifuwl,” Pietro said, awestruck.

“Thank you, honey. You look very pretty too. So does your sister.” When I said that, Riley pulled a face.

“Are you ready?” Loki asked.

I nodded and our small group made its way down towards the main hall. Though we took a less direct path than we normally would take. “I’m taking you to the front entrance,” Loki explained as we walked. “Thor will be waiting at the throne with the High Priest. I shall go and stand with him. When you hear the crowd quiet and the music start-up you will proceed down the main aisle to the throne. Do you think you can handle that?” She asked.

“I think I can do that.” I agreed. “What about the others?”

“They will be entering from different doors. You will take the main one because you are the mother of the heir, and you will be accompanied by your children,” Loki explained. “You should attempt to time your procession that you and the others all arrive at the same time.” She stopped when you reached the doors and turned to look at me, her face set in deadly seriousness. “Elise, when you go on your journey, remember who you are and what they mean to you. Do not get lost in the fear of the unknown.”

I nodded. “I will.”

“Good,” she said and reached to touch my arm before pulling her hand away and saying something in Asgardian to the guards by the door. When she turned back she addressed the children. “Alright, my darlings. Take care of your mother. I shall see you very soon.”

“We wiwl Aundie Woki,” they both echoed. Loki nodded and slipped through a small side door.

I took a deep breath and looked over at Clarke and waited for the signal.

//NEXT

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benditlikepress · 5 years ago

Text

believe in love (even if set in fear)

hey its jess coming back at ya with another 6k+ ““““mini fic””””

do I spend all my free time writing about tony and ziva touching hands and having important conversations? perhaps. except this time it's also christmas

@coffeedepablo tagging you in everything i ever write from now on even when it’s a hot mess

merry christmas everyone!!

also available on ao3 i love kudos and comments <3

“.. And because I speak English sometimes they said I’m extra good.”

Tali had been proudly explaining to Tony and Ziva how impressed her teachers were with her parts in the winter concert ever since they picked her up after the dress rehearsal that morning. They were on their way back to school for the afternoon performance, and (according to her) she been given a lot to do considering she wasn’t a native speaker. Her nerves were evidently jangling between her bursts of conversation.

Tali’s winter concert was apparently a Very Big Deal, and there were songs to sing and a dance to learn and a xylophone to play and even a few lines of a speech that Tali had sworn Tony to secrecy over, refusing to let Ziva be spoiled for before the day itself.

Tali was in her final year of the French equivalent of kindergarten, and the nursery was attached to the school she would be attending from next September. The winter concert was a joint affair, with students from both areas of the school taking part. It wasn’t a Christmas celebration so much as it was a new years’ one, a way to mark the end of the year and celebrate the holidays before the children went home to their families.

While the concert itself wasn't Christmas-themed (it was Ziva's understanding that French schools didn't celebrate religious holidays), but it was difficult not to feel the spirit as Tali trotted down the pavement in front of them wrapped in a winter coat and ear muffs.

Ziva had obviously never celebrated Christmas on a personal level, but she had gotten used to the shared traditions after her years spent living in the US. She was looking forward to spending it with Tony and Tali this year, knowing how excited her daughter was for both her grandfather and Santa to visit.

Even more special was the fact that Christmas and Hanukkah were overlapping. Tony had been a little embarrassed when he'd explained he'd tried his best to teach Tali about Judaism and was worried he'd fumbled over himself a few times, but now she was back Ziva was more than happy to teach both him and Tali about the holiday celebrations she'd revelled in growing up. There would be countless Hanukkah’s to celebrate in the future - and Christmases, and Passovers, and birthdays, and every other holiday imaginable. Ziva didn't plan on missing a single one ever again.

“Who will watch?”

Ziva was still getting used to this habit of Tali’s - her quick changes in trail of thought, questions hitting like whiplash. Tony was always unfazed.

“Everyone’s parents will be there like we’re going to be.”

“A lot?”

Tony hummed before answering. “I think so, yeah.”

His honesty didn’t seem to reassure Tali, and while she was still a little giddy it was clear her nerves about performing in front of a big crowd were building further.

“Try not to think about that, just think about Aba and I watching. What’s important is that you enjoy yourself. You know we will cheer you the whole time.”

“But it’s important! What if I mess up?”

"Last year she was only in 1 song and dance, this is a big deal." Tony confirmed his daughter's assertions, and though Ziva had always seen a similarity in nature between them when Tali was young she was struck by how much the two of them took after each other now after years in each other's pockets. “But you still don’t need to be nervous, I know you’re going to crush it.”

Ziva had already seen that she and Tony had different styles of parenting – she tried to be more rational to reassure, whereas he was more emotive, empathising with what was happening. Ziva wondered if that was solely his nature or if it came from the two of them being alone together for so long. He was good at being what people needed him to be. Ziva knew; he'd done the same for her enough times, even if she'd thrown it back in his face regrettably on a few occasions.

There was something intensely attractive about Tony like this – maybe it was biological, an innate response to seeing him be so affectionate and connected to Ziva’s child. To their child, this part of them that they held above anything else. They were both acutely aware of this new connection, both seeking out each other’s eyes almost as much as they did Tali’s when the three of them were together. Disbelieving, almost – wanting to check the other was still there, that this was really their new normal after years of to-and-fro and then years of nothing at all.

She increasingly found herself fighting the urge to kiss him, though that wasn’t exactly a new development. The fact that sometimes she did kiss him? Well, that was still new; a novel action that made her feel a tiny pinch of uncharacteristic nerves whenever she leaned in.

“They’re closing the gates!” Tali suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the end of the road where a teacher could be seen removing the bolt that kept the gate open from the ground. She had evidently seen them coming and wasn’t intending on closing it until they got inside, but that didn’t stop Tony challenging Tali to a race and the two of them breaking out into a run up the hill, Tali squealing loudly as Tony tried to grab her to pick her up.

Tali brought out the playful side of Tony - the loud, energetic side that Ziva had spent so long pretending she hated. As she watched the two of them laughing as they approached the playground, it hit Ziva again how normal this felt. She and Tony hadn’t seen each other in six years, and yet so quickly they’d fallen into this dynamic that was both so familiar and yet so new, the feeling both natural and exciting in equal measure.

Ziva ducked past the teacher on the gate with a smile as the woman looked amusedly at where Tony and Tali had just run to inside the building. It took Tony a while to catch his breath back, both age and a few years away from being a field agent having taken a natural toll on his fitness. Ziva watched him as he put his hands on his thighs briefly, her raised eyebrows meaning a verbal mocking wasn’t needed.

“Why don’t you try chasing her, see how you can keep up?”

“I probably would not be close to a heart attack.”

Tali proudly pointed out her place in the cloakroom to Ziva, and she helped her daughter remove her outer clothing and hang it up.

They dropped her off at the door to her classroom and she ran inside, clutching the bag containing her costume. Ziva watched through the window in the door as a teacher came up to Tali and spoke to her with a wide smile, taking the bag from her and encouraging her to sit with the others on the carpet.

Ziva started to walk back down the corridor but Tony flicked his head back at the classroom door a couple of times.

“Are you nervous?” Ziva asked with a little amusement in her voice, watching Tony twitch.

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous.” He dismissed her with a familiar cockiness, which soon faded. “OK, maybe a little. I think she inherited your public speaking genes. I hope she doesn’t barf.”

“She will be fine. She told me you practiced with her every morning on the way to school. You are your daughter's father, yes?"

"I don't.. think that's how that goes, but I get what you mean. This way."

Tony led Ziva a different route through the school towards the upper school reception. As they approached Ziva saw 30 or 40 parents already milling around, some with babies in pushchairs, and when she looked out through the main doors many more were making their way towards the school.

A woman called out Tony's name and he looked towards the front of the group where a small circle of adults had gathered. Ziva thought a few of them looked familiar as parents from Tali's class and the way they greeted Tony confirmed as much.

Ziva’s eyes settled on Tony, the way he milled around with the other parents like he belonged. He did, of course – this was a new Tony, one Ziva hadn’t got to know yet. One who never missed a school function and stayed in every night helping his daughter practice her parts. His French was near-perfect now, which shouldn't have been surprising but perhaps was because Ziva could remember his occasional clumsiness surrounding foreign affairs in the past.

“Are you going to introduce us?” A middle-aged man with glasses and a pin-stripe scarf suddenly acknowledged Ziva’s presence beside Tony. Tony turned to Ziva with a smile, stepping back a little to encourage the others to greet her.

“This is Tali’s mom, Ziva.”

“You’re Tali’s mother? It’s nice to meet you at last, Tony said you’ve been away working for a long time. I’m Charles, this is my wife Marie. We’re Amelie’s parents.”

“Yes, I have. The project I was working on was a particularly long and difficult one, but it has finally been put to bed. I am here to stay now.” Ziva parroted the practiced line with a polite smile as she shook hands proffered to her and let the names of the other parents wash over her. She’d get the hang of it eventually.

As the reception area continued to fill with parents, the conversation devolved into a discussion about the weather and in-jokes and references that flew over Ziva’s head. She remained quiet – this type of socialising had never exactly been her wheelhouse. Tony was less silent but still quiet, his hand occasionally reaching out to touch the small of Ziva’s back. Once or twice the movement made her look up at his face instinctively, and they shared a private smile as the conversation continued around them.

Ziva was thankful when the doors to the hall were eventually opened and they were able to make their way inside, filing in to take their seats on cold plastic chairs that were too close together. Ziva could see Tali sat to the right of the stage, dressed now in the star costume the rest of her class was also wearing, her gaze flickering through the crowd looking for her parents. Tony raised his hand in the air and Tali eventually caught sight of them, beaming and waving back.

A few minutes passed as parents continued to file in, and Ziva instinctively kept one eye on the entrances watching who was coming in. Old habits died hard, she supposed. The lights dimmed and she refocused back on the stage and on the man sat next to her who had been stealing glances in her direction since they sat down. A woman with a baby in her arms quietly made her way to sit on Ziva’s other side and she smiled politely at the woman’s apologetic expression at her almost-lateness, secretly praying the baby would stay asleep as the music began to play.

After the first song, sung by all of the children, a man in his 60s stepped onto the stage. He introduced himself as the headteacher and began to talk about taking stock of the past year and looking forward to the future, with this being an opportunity to celebrate the children’s achievements in the last 12 months. He spoke with a strong accent and the speed at which he spoke was not particularly welcoming for non-native speakers. She was wondering how easy young children found him to understand when he abruptly finished talking and exited the stage again, sitting down in his seat at the front of the crowd.

“Tell me it isn’t just me that didn’t catch a word.”

Tony’s voice was low and his breath hot in her ear. Ziva smirked but put a hand on his thigh to implore him to pay attention as Tali’s class was being led onto stage.

Tali was stood on the front of two rows as the pianist began to play the next song and the teachers led them in a series of actions to go along with the song.

Ziva couldn't help but be reminded of her daughter’s namesake as she watched her beaming under the lights, tapping her feet and waving her hands when cued to. She was a little more bashful and clumsier on her feet than the older Tali had been, but the light emanating from her was unmistakable.

Seeing Tali be a part of something like this – how comfortable she was, how much she fitted in, how happy she was, offered Ziva the clarity she had needed for the past 3 years. Sending your child away to keep them safe was one of the most difficult decisions a person could ever have to make, but it all seemed worth it now she could see the smile on Tali’s face as she sung and danced with her friends.

Ziva lifted her hand from Tony’s leg to wipe away the tears she could feel welling in her eyes. The movement distracted Tony who turned towards her. She couldn’t imagine he could see she was crying in the light though the gesture surely gave her away and he took her hand from her face with his own. Ziva allowed him to intertwine their fingers and he placed their joined hands on his lap, grasping hers tightly.

There was a few more songs before children from different classes began to speak about winter. A class that looked younger than Tali all said things they liked about winter (“snow”, “chocolate”, “no school”), a much older class talked about their new year’s resolutions, and eventually Tali’s class was on stage again and one of them introduced that religious holidays are big around this time of year.

Ziva was slightly taken aback when Tali was the third child to stand up.

“Some people celebrate Hanukkah in winter. Hanukkah is the festival of lights and lasts 8 days. It’s a Jewish holiday and you eat special food and light candles.”

Tali's French was practiced, and the sound was still unexpected to Ziva's ears. She was still speaking fragmented English the last time Ziva had seen her before she sent her to DC. She spoke too quickly and held the microphone a little too close to her mouth, but the way she looked at Ziva proudly as she spoke eclipsed everything.

The boy next to Tali stood up and started talking about Diwali as Tony looked at Ziva expectantly. He ducked his head in close to her ear.

“Ever since you got back she’s been waiting for you to hear that. Making me practice every day. I think she was more concerned about impressing you more than about all the people watching.”

Ziva turned towards Tony, and as he backed his head away to allow her to talk into his ear she captured his face with her hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“I do not know what to say.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“Did you tell her about Hanukkah food?”

“She’s a DiNozzo, she has priorities.”

The ownership sent another little jolt through Ziva’s system. She shuffled herself closer to Tony as Tali’s class continued to talk, and by the time the next song started her head was ghosting against the top of his arm.

Tali’s xylophone performance was next, and her part seemed to go without a hitch even if the same could not be said for the boy sat 2 people away from her who hit his notes seemingly whenever he was in the mood to. Her class was moved back to the side of the room then, and as the other classes took centre-stage Ziva couldn’t help but let her eyes wander to her daughter, watching her as she looked distractedly around the room and found ways to entertain herself.

The concert was longer than Ziva expected, though she wasn’t sure how much of that was reality and how much was down to the baby she was sat next to deciding to have an almighty crying fit that she could hear even as the mother apologetically took it outside and down the corridor. She sympathised with the young woman, knowing how difficult it could be when you’re in public alone and your baby is upset.

Tali herself had had a knack for waking up at the most inopportune moments, and Ziva had told Tony last week that it was her first inkling of something she had inherited from her father: an avid need for Ziva’s attention. Tony had laughed then, loud and incredulous, and had roped Tali into a playful defence rather than trying to deny it.

When the show was over, everyone split up again. The parents from Tali’s class had ended up stood in the area between the cloakroom and the classroom, the confined space making Ziva uncomfortable. Tali emerged fairly quickly, still dressed in her star costume and struggling to hold her uniform that she for some reason had decided not to put into her costume bag. Ziva held her arms out to her and she ran over, accepting the hug giddily. When Ziva pulled back Tali immediately turned to Tony to get the same greeting from him, her hands still clutching her clothes reaching around his back where he had lowered down a little to meet her.

“You were great, sweetheart! Wasn’t she?” Tony asked Ziva with a smile, ruffling their daughter’s hair.

“It was very special Tali, we’re proud of you.”

“Did you see me talk about Hanukkah?”

“I did! Is that what you were keeping a secret from me?”

“Uh-huh. Aba said you would like it.”

“I loved it. Thank you.”

Ziva bent down to give Tali a kiss and the girl smiled brightly, showing her teeth. Tony took the clothes and bag out of her hand with an affectionate shake of his head and Tali willingly dropped them as the three of them pushed their way through the droves in the corridor and towards the cloakroom.

Tali struggled for a moment to find her coat amongst the others, eventually locating it having dropped on the floor. She began to pull it onto her arms slowly but before she had finished a group of 3 girls, including Amelie whose parents Ziva had met earlier, ran up to her. Amelie whispered in Tali’s ear with her hands covering her mouth.

“Can I go to Amelie’s house?” Tali asked, looking up at Tony and Ziva in turn. Ziva’s first instinct was to say no, to take her home and sit on the couch cuddling her for the rest of the day, but she could see the excitement in her eyes as Amelie and the other girls chattered away behind her.

Perhaps Tony could sense Ziva’s reluctance, because he told Tali she could go for an hour or two but then they would be picking her up so they could go back home and have a pizza night to celebrate.

Tony and Ziva spoke briefly to Charles and Marie, who confirmed they were taking the 4 girls back home with them, and after saying their goodbyes they were soon back out in the biting cold on the street.

“Home?”

“Not much point if we’re coming back out. C’mon, kid-free, the world is our oyster. We could go for a.. what kind of food gets eaten at 4pm?" Tony asked, more to himself. A lot may have changed, but some things never do.

"We could go for a hot drink and you can get a cake. My treat."

"Well, someone's in the holiday spirit. I know a place nearby."

The two of them began to walk down the hill, and Ziva tucked her coat tighter around her. The sky was clear which only added to the chill, already getting dark at such an early hour.

"So, what was the verdict?"

"You do realise you were not involved in the performance?"

"Maybe not in a literal sense, but I played a role."

"It was beautiful, Tony. Really. I think that is the first time I've attended something like that. I was not sure what to expect."

"Haven't I ever forced you to watch Love Actually?"

“Not that I can recall. Still, I am sure that watching Tali’s in the future will give me all of the insight I need.”

“Yeah, they can be a little full-on. I’m glad I had company.”

“Oh, you seemed to be getting on fine on your own. You know, I did not expect this from you." Ziva looked at Tony’s profile as she spoke with an amused smile. The tips of his ears were turning pink from the cold. He turned to her with a confused expression.

"What?"

"Are you on the PTA?"

Tony guffawed at Ziva, and for a split second looked self-conscious. "It doesn't hurt to be polite, you know."

"I am polite. You are a member of their clique."

"No, c'mon. I kinda got adopted on the first day. Tali cried a lot. The moms took pity on me; single dad who clearly had no idea what he was doing."

"Hm, I am sure they did."

"Ha, no, believe me. They just see me as the perfect opportunity to interfere.”

“You could just tell them you are fine without their input.”

“You’re here now, I’m sure you’ll keep them in line. No violence.”

Even now, it was easy to make jokes like that. In spite of everything that had changed between them, and all the water under the bridge, Tony could never resist an opportunity to make a comment about Ziva’s fighting ability. She’d long-since decided to take it as a compliment.

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

The coffee shop was only a five-minute walk from Tali's school. It was fairly quiet, and Ziva implored Tony to sit down on two armchairs by the window while she fulfilled her promise.

The woman behind the till turned around to get a plate for Tony's cake and as she did Ziva turned back towards the window to look at the man in question. He had already been looking her way and turned his head towards the window guiltily, an uncharacteristically bashful move that made her smile. They were still getting used to all of this, redefining the parameters of a relationship that had never stayed in one state for too long.

Ziva placed Tony's cake on the table and his face lit up. She looked outside as he began to eat; the clouds looked darker from in here, and there was a patch of condensation running along the bottom of the window-frame. A woman in a bobble hat ran past, pushing a child in a pram.

"It's nice to get some time alone."

Ziva turned back to Tony, who was looking at his cake rather than her. “Why is that?”

“Just..” Tony sucked on the fork contemplatively for a moment before smiling. “I don’t know, did you ever think we’d be here? Living in Paris, going to our daughter’s recitals.”

Ziva returned his smile. “I guess it is a little out of character for us.”

“I don’t think it’s out of character. It’s just-” Tony paused briefly while the waitress placed their drinks on the table in front of them. He offered her a quick smile and didn’t seem to notice her blush. “It’s just different now. Maybe we’re just different now.”

“Did you ever imagine this for yourself? A family?”

Ziva’s tone was conversational, and perhaps it didn’t have as much weight behind it as it used to when they would try to discuss it back in the day, because Tony barely hesitated before he started talking.

“I don’t know. For a long time, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Then I started to think I’d left it too late. Funny how things work out.”

Ziva felt like kissing him then, but the table in-between them prevented any action and so she looked at him instead – openly, transparently. It took only a second or two before Tony smiled at her gaze.

“When I had to send Tali to live with you,” the smile dropped slowly from his face as the tone of the conversation changed, “I did not worry about you for even a second. For as much as I worried about every other aspect of it, I knew you would do everything to take care of her and keep her safe. It is in your nature. And now I have got to see the way the two of you are with each other. Like you are made for each other.”

A moment’s silence passed between them. They had spent so much of the early days of their relationship avoiding conversations like this one, and even now the vulnerability felt a little like a novelty.

There was no need for a charade anymore. And even if it was sometimes a battle to push through the instinct for resistance, they were both doing well to remember that.

Neither of them looked away.

“Something on your mind today?”

“Not especially.”

“You sure?”

“I suppose I am just thinking about the holidays. I’m happy to be back here for them. Happy to be back here in general.”

“Well, we’re happy to have you back. Me and Tali.”

“She is lucky to have a father like you.”

“I know neither of exactly had a wholesome blockbuster- style relationship with our fathers growing up. I don’t want that for my kid.”

“She is lucky.” Ziva confirmed, holding Tony’s eyeline for a long moment, the things Ziva wasn’t saying passing between them. She broke it by taking a sip from her drink, and Tony returned to eat more of his cake.

“Is there anyone you want to visit for the holidays?”

“Do not think so, I would rather spend time settling in. I will call Schmiel, maybe I will visit him in the new year. I would feel guilty asking him to travel here at his age.”

“You gonna call Boss?”

“He is not your boss, Tony. But yes, I will. You should too.”

“Y’know, there’s these fancy new things now called speaker-phone. Maybe we can call McGee and ask him to teach us.” Ziva rolled her eyes quickly at Tony but the affection died slowly from his face, being replaced with a thoughtful sincerity. He used his fork to cut a piece of cake and played with it absently for a moment. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"What did I say earlier?"

"At school. You told Charles you're here for good."

The question surprised Ziva a little. "Yes, I meant it."

"OK."

"I can understand why you are apprehensive."

Tony exhaled in what might have been a laugh. "I kinda feel like an asshole."

"You shouldn't. It is only natural."

"It's not just about the Sahar thing. It's.. everything. I need to know that you aren't going to run away again."

"I could not leave again, Tony." She could say more than that, try to stress just how much she meant it, but trying to add more would dilute the feeling. It was as simple as that. Walking away was categorically impossible at this point.

"Because of Tali?"

"Not just because of Tali."

"OK. Good. I don't think I have another round-the-world treasure hunt in me."

Ziva smiled at the humour masking the very real admission. Tony's hand had abandoned the fork and was resting on the table and she ran her fingers over his knuckles affectionately. "There is still so much I need to say to you. I have not even scratched the surface.” She looked up from his hands to his eyes, and he seemed to be waiting for her to continue. “I know that when I first got back we spoke a lot about why I hadn't told you about Tali, and what's been going on since I sent her to be with you. And I know we also spoke about-"

"How we feel about each other?” Tony filled in, looking up from where his head was slightly bowed. Ziva gave a relenting but brief smile.

"Yes, we did. And I think we are finally on the same page with that. But I really want you to understand this." Ziva took his hand between hers. "I realise I have done things in the past because I was scared. Because I did not think I deserved to be happy, that I deserved the care you showed for me. And I cannot sit here and say I am never going to think that ever again. But I am not going anywhere. There is nowhere else I would ever want to be except here with you, and with Tali. Do not think for a second that you are a secondary side-effect and I might change my mind again one day. I am done running away."

Tony held her gaze for a long moment. She stroked the back of his fingers and he looked down at them, smiling a little. “I trust you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I believe you. But in the interests of honesty..” Tony squeezed at her hand as though to get her attention, as if he didn’t have it ever since they sat down, “From now on, you’ve got to tell me if you ever feel that way. If you get scared, or freaked out, whatever. Please tell me so we can talk about it.”

“I will.” She meant it, truly. She knew it would be much harder in practice (and Tony was no fool), but she was more serious about this than she had ever been before. If the past couple of years had taught her anything, it was that this was where she belonged.

“Kay. Good talk.” Tony withdrew his hand from Ziva’s with a smile that made his eyes glisten, picking up his cup and taking a long sip. Ziva had always found that particular smile difficult to resist, and she was sure Tony knew the effect it had on her.

As much as he found herself looking at the lines by his eyes and the flecks at his temples, she realised he hadn’t actually really changed at all.

"Maybe when Senior gets here next week you and me can finally go on that date I’ve been meaning to ask you on for about 15 years." He spoke looking down at his drink, trying to seem more casual than evidently he was feeling inside.

"Is that your way of asking?"

"Kinda out of practice. I can promise to show you a good time, though. We can go for dinner and a movie and make small talk about each other’s families and jobs.”

"I feel sorry for any poor girl who went on a first date with you to see a film."

"Dinner. I'll pay. Who could say no to that?”

"You do not really expect me to say no?"

"You haven't exactly said yes."

“Yes, Tony. I will go on a date with you.”

“Ok, good. I’ll text you in the next few days to arrange something, and I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

Ziva looked up at Tony’s serious tone with an amused frown on her face, and he smiled a challenge at her. She bit back a chuckle.

“I will look forward to it. Although you may have to wait in the car – the man I live with has a little bit of a jealous streak.”

“Oh, I’m sure that isn’t true.”

“You would be surprised.”

They stayed in the coffee shop for another hour, easy conversation and stolen glances accompanied by periods of comfortable silence and people-watching. It was easy and peaceful; perhaps the first quiet afternoon they had had alone together since being reunited. The longer they stayed, though, the more Ziva checked her watch.

“Y’know, Tali’s been there before. She’s fine.”

“I know she is.”

“Just don’t want to let her go, huh?”

Ziva smiled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, you kinda ignored my question.”

“Sorry,” Ziva shook her head, trying to shake herself out of the frame of mind. “It is not personal. I have only just got her back.”

“It’s ok to be nervous.” Tony shrugged as though it was nothing, but the words meant more to Ziva than he could likely comprehend right now. Before she could speak he picked up his second cup of coffee and tipped the cup upwards, finishing it in one gulp. “Come on, let’s go get her.”

“Really?”

“I’m getting hungry, and we promised a pizza.”

Tony got up from his seat and shrugged his coat on. Ziva rolled her eyes as she went into her purse to retrieve a tip.

“I bought you a slice of cake barely an hour ago.”

“Nobody said I didn’t appreciate that.”

Tony held out his hand to help Ziva stand up, and when she put it in his he raised it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles with a charming grin.

It was still getting colder outside and Ziva didn’t leave the doorway until her coat was fully buttoned up while Tony stood on the pavement exclaiming about the wind.

Ziva went to do up her scarf but the wind had got the material caught in her hair. Before she could get frustrated Tony lifted her hair carefully, tucking it behind her ears. He grabbed the scarf by either end and used it to pull her into him, Ziva's eyes closing instinctively as their lips met. The kiss was surprisingly tentative and reassuring, and when Tony pulled back it took all of Ziva’s willpower not to immediately chase his lips down to reconnect with her own.

"I missed you." He said quietly, his face still hovering over hers.

“I missed you too.”

They’d repeated it to each other countless times since being reunited but the words still felt meaningful on her tongue, her heart jumping ever so slightly. Tony unexpectedly pulled her into a hug, his head tucking over hers. Ziva put her arms underneath his jacket and his body was warm, the feeling safe and familiar. He quickly pulled away.

“How are your hands so cold already?”

“No gloves.”

They started walking down the street, arms and sides brushing against each other.

"I could get you some. I still have to get your present."

"You do not have to, I'm Jewish."

"It's nice to have something to open. Have you got mine?"

"You seem confident you are getting one."

"I don't know, I think I've got everything I want already."

Tony grabbed Ziva’s hand and stopped her, and she turned towards him as he moved in sharply for another kiss, his tongue slowly making its way into her mouth as his hands raised to hold her face. Ziva’s expression when he pulled back made him smile as he turned back to continue walking down the street.

"Good save."

“Thanks. I’m an expert at removing my foot from my mouth.”

“That must be a new skill you have learnt, because it’s the first I have heard of it.”

“You don’t have to make fun of me like a smitten kid on the playground anymore, we’re already dating.”

“You think that’s what I have been doing?”

Tony pulled a faux-disbelieving face. “Isn’t it?”

“If that is what helps you sleep at night.”

“I sleep just fine. You would know.”

“It is not too late for me to turn you down.”

#ncis #tiva #ziva david #tony dinozzo #tiva fanfiction #tldr tony is a goofy dad and ziva is so fond #it is probably clear i know nothing about french schools in spite of my few minutes of googling #so please forgive any cultural inaccuracies!#my obsessions with hands and emotional vulnerability are twofold:#i'm gay #and also i am recovering from 20+ years of extreme emotional immaturity #and i'm dragging tony and ziva with me #fanfiction #mine #my fanfiction #so many tags so little time #tali #now they're messed up bc i forgot to tag her sorry bb

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anonthenullifier · 5 years ago

Note

You think Tommy & Billy occasionally have to hear their parents get referenced or discussed in classes or school hallways?

I am so so sorry this took a long time. I hope you enjoy it!

The echoes of the bell are still bouncing through the halls and the room is still teacherless. There are signs that Mr. Byrne, their physics teacher, is around – a coffee cup sitting on top of a pile of their ungraded papers (which is fine by Tommy, he’s tempted to just go knock the mug over and get everyone As) and also the word DENSITY scrawled on the board. “What is it - 3 minutes and we get to leave?”

“Fifteen,” Billy doesn’t even turn to acknowledge his twin, too focused on organizing his notes, “pretty sure that’s only for college and also not sure it’s even a real rule.”

Apparently today his brother is in one of his serious, academically focused moods. “No one asked you, nerd.”

Now Tommy’s earned a steely stare, “You did.”

“Whatever.” Fifteen minutes seems excessive anyway, if Tommy is going to lead a revolt to not have class, he’d rather only wait five minutes, max. Given the make-up of their classmates, he’s reasonably confident he could get at least three-fourths of the back two rows on his side. Definitely not going to garner any sort of sympathy or fealty from the front rows, where they sit, because Billy says he hears better up here. Tommy only sits with him because they are near the door for an easy escape. “Do you think he’s dressing up again?”

Billy writes Density at the top of a new page before looking at Tommy with disdain finally aimed at someone other than him. “God, I hope not.”

“Who do you think it’ll be this time?”

“Probably Carol.” Tommy snorts and then gags at the mental image, also a sliver proud of Billy’s emotionless delivery. You see, Mr. Byrne is one of those…”cool” teachers, self-described, not student labeled like their kickass literature teacher next period. He’s “up” on memes, pop culture, and slang, though usually only on an academic surface level, the way old people try desperately to relate to the “youths” of the time. Why he tries, Tommy doesn’t know, the man has to be at least in his mid-thirties.* His choice of cultural relevance this semester? Superheroes. It’s awful, every week they have to watch him fanboy about someone else they know. It’s bad enough being the children of Avengers and dealing with other students who either have unoriginal questions (“Why do Hulk’s pants not rip apart?”), want autographs (particularly from Tony), want to prove they can win a fight without super powers (they can’t and Tommy’s detentions prove this), or, his favorite is when they ask sexually explicit things about his parents. That is a topic he never ever ever ever wants to think about ever again.

Tommy checks the clock – four minutes. One more and then Živjela revolucija!**

“Good morning class!” Dammit. “Today we will be…,” Mr. Byrne’s entrance is drowned out by sniggering, everyone murmuring around them and Tommy swears he can feel at least fifteen people looking at him.

“Oh no.” It’s Billy’s voice that worries him the most.

Tommy finally looks up,”Oh fuck no.”

“That’s right,” it was bound to happen, they should have seen this coming, should have dropped this class when the whole superhero examples and costumes started. But they didn’t, they had just a bit too much faith in humanity. “Today we will be learning about density from the expert himself,” Mr. Byrne, face painted a too bright red and a plastic gem that he probably stole from a troll’s stomach stuck to his forehead, tries to swipe his Halloween costume store quality cape dramatically, “The Vision.”

A swift kick to the left gets Billy to tear his eyes away from the abomination at the front of the room, “Fuck this shit, I’m out.”

Except a thin blue strand traps Tommy in his seat,, “It’s one day,” Billy’s mouth doesn’t move but Tommy can hear his damn placating voice in his head, “we need this class to graduate and you can’t go to the principal again, so just stay and suffer.” The last part is almost gleeful.

“Nope, I’ll just get a G.E.D.” Tommy throws his brother and teacher the middle finger as he vibrates his molecules and phases the hell away.

Dad’s face is not pleased and mom’s eyes are glowing. “I swear this one is justified.”

“Yes,” his dad’s voice matches the tone he’s used on villains begging for freedom, who try to explain that the death ray was just meant to exterminate the rats in the city not, you know, the group of people tied up, “I am certain your detention will be justified this time.”

Well, he’s a lost cause, so Tommy shifts to the more rebellious parent, “Mom, I promise, that man is a lunatic and I had no choice but to skip.”

The Scarlet Witch, feared and revered for her reality warping, is about to tear a hole in reality and kick him out of this existence. “I’m sure.”

Jody, the secretary, in all her villainess cardigan wearing glory shushes them sternly, “You know the rules.” The reprimand is replaced by a mannequin-esque smile, “The teacher is on his way and then Dr. Bennett will sort this all out.”

Five minutes of agonizing silence pass, dad on one side in his unassuming and gaudy sweater vest and mom on the other, flicking arcs of scarlet between her fingers, before an out-of-breath Mr. Byrne arrives. He’s changed, now in khakis and a polo and face clean other than a slight tinge of red that looks like a sunburn. The conniving bastard. “The Vis-, I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff, what a pleasure to meet you.”

Mom provides a taut, yet polite smile, “It’s too bad we didn’t meet under better circumstances.”

“I agree,” Mr. Byrne’s voice conveys the same feeling that a patronizingly placed hand on the shoulder would, “Tommy is such a bright boy.” The if only is left silent, thankfully, a phrase he is so sick of hearing.

This is all bullshit. Mr. Byrne knows exactly why Tommy left and yet, as the way it usually goes, the adults will all believe the adult. Actually, as it usually goes, he’s going to be left out here and not be allowed to speak his piece.

The door to the principal’s office opens with a, “Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff, Mr. Byrne, please come inside.”

His fate is sealed now, at least one more detention and maybe, if he’s lucky, an expulsion, though honestly that wouldn’t be luck because then he’d probably be forced to do some community service thing or, worse, have dad homeschool him. But then, like an Avenger that’s been gone for a way too damn long time during the battle, salvation comes in the form of Billy rushing through a portal in the office wall. “Wait, I have evidence!”

“William,” the principal’s voice is almost the same cadence as dad’s when he’s disappointed, “this is unprecedented.”

Billy is way better at playing along with superiors, his body folding in just enough to show he is ashamed at the breach of protocol, but he remains steadfast against the admonishment. “I know Dr. Bennett, but I have pictures of what happened in class today.”

Curiosity is the prime emotion in the office, but it is not the loudest, that would be the absolute blissful terror draining the last of the color from Mr. Byrne’s face. “Let us see it.” Billy hands his phone over to the Principal who squints with a “Huh,” and then hands the phone to mom who immediately starts laughing while dad, well, it’s hard to read his reaction, but Tommy knows that anytime he stands that still and that impassive it means he has come across something so horrendous, so lacking in social respectability that he is doing everything in his power to not phase through the floor. “Mr. Byrne, I believe you and I need to have a conversation. Thomas?”

“Yes, ma’am?” Whatever kindness may have been on her face is gone. “Um, yes, Dr. Bennett?”

“You should go back to class.”

He salutes her. “Will do.”

Tommy waits just a moment longer to watch the slouched form of his teacher go into the principal’s office before joining his family in the hallway. “That was amazing! You should save me every time…” he’s really confused right now why everyone isn’t celebrating with him. “What?”

“You should get back to class,” mom doesn’t sound mad, in fact, she seems entertained by the whole thing and is only putting on the parental facade because it’s what she has to do as his mom, “we can discuss some better ways to handle these types of situations later,” something he expected, “once your poor father here isn’t so traumatized.” Ah, he sees it now, dad’s still a bit stiff and hasn’t blinked in awhile, it would be rude to rub this in any more, that’ll be for dinner tonight.

“Sounds good. Won’t skip class again.”

“I’m sure…”

Billy tugs Tommy away as he counters back, “Have faith, mom,” and he walks away a free man.

*30, according to my own students, is the equivalent of being elderly and about to die.

**Long live the revolution!

#tommy shepherd #billy kaplan #vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet vision #the vision #haven't written in 2 months #hope it's not too rough #mine #ask anon #deathofink #thescarletvisionnetwork

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seethekraken · 5 years ago

Text

No Mistletoe?

Merry Christmas @castielangeldelaguarda So I am your Secret Santa <33 I chose to do a Reverse AU for you. I’ll admit I patched it up a little from the main post lol I hope you like it!! Have a Wonderful Day, Lovely!!

—

It was always hard for Sam to return to Heaven after heavy assignments and even more so when he couldn’t tell if he’d done something right or not.

Underestimating Luc had unfortunately resulted in the fight getting bloodier than Sam hoped for. He tried his hardest to resolve things peacefully. He’d begged his assignment to come in quietly, that he wouldn’t win this one.

Maybe it was that comment that salted the wound. Maybe if he knew more about what he was meant to stop, maybe then his missions’ outcome would not end in bloodshed.

Heaven rarely gave him a reason though, wary of Sam’s ability to experience and understand human emotion. He was ‘defective’ they’d whispered the first time it had happened on an assignment.

He ran solos now, mostly hitman like jobs: no details of what this human or that creature had done to receive judgement.

He’d think the Angels would value knowledge as power, but maybe in his hands was too terrible? As a result of nothing else to go on, it took a lot more strategy to win—if he didn’t know any better, he might think they wanted him to perish on mission. Those were the orders though and the notion of disobedience, nonexistent.

Being weak from time-travel was standard, but bundled with the exhaustion of preventing a future happening, Sam’s Grace needed time to recover. It wasn’t even an excuse, he was simply too weak to make his trip Up.

Drained of energy—Sam knew he’d get into trouble for taking a self imposed vacation, but he needed that break and the only way to get one was if he took it himself.

Dropping into a random timeline, perhaps a couple years into the future, Sam read the sign stating he was in ‘Cottage Grove’. What was with these humans and randomly selecting names for their homebase?

Angels were everywhere these days, only the smallest of towns were clear of them—the streets, shops too close together to be comfortable space for wings. Of course that applied to him too, even more so as his wingspan was wider. Not archangel wide by any means but enough for him to be aware of his bulk in more cramped places. The idea was to avoid detection from all Angels however, so it served his purpose for now.

Judging from the gaudy decor and overbearing smell of pine, Sam guessed it was December where they celebrated a “Saviour”. It wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed the ‘season to be jolly’ having been more than a little irked about the lack of angel statues with brown hair and brown wings in shops. Dean, of course, found it hilarious.

Slipping his wings into the ethereal plain, he landed in an alleyway and blended with the main crowd walking down the busy street, following the sound of loud music. These places usually had town parties and it seemed like a good place to hide and unwind before having to return to Heaven.

Gabriel was in charge now, and to everyone’s shock, was doing a fantastic job. He sent the right Angels to get orders done. Of course there were few mishaps but they were few and far between. As much as he was proud of Gabriel for being so efficient, Sam was also exhausted.

Sam let himself into the townhall where the town residents were celebrating. The only human that looked his way, was a black-haired man at the snack bar, and only briefly. — A slight breeze and the door opening pulled Castiel’s attention away from his task. The banquet hall was in full capacity, each plate and seating accounted for, and unless someone had left the party, he didn’t see any reason why a stranger would walk in.

Between refilling the water jugs and looking back, the giant had gone out of sight. Half an hour later and Cas spotted him again, looking awkward in the corner, not talking just watching the crowd with tired eyes. Snapping the attention of a waiter, Cas instructed him to serve that niche where the brunette was sitting, before seating himself a little away from the crowd.

Cas stared at him then, a truly beautiful specimen. Go figure his type would walk into a party while he was working. Glancing down at the suit he had on, Cas loosened his tie, starting to feel the humidity that came from large crowds crammed in a room together. Offering the tray of appetizers at passing guests with a put on smile, Cas curiously turned back to his eye candy.

Shit.

—

Sam had a hard time not tracking the man with his eyes. There was just something, a weird pull he didn’t entirely understand, which caused time and time again for him to seek that face in the crowd.

And then it happened.

Striking blue eyes found his hazel ones with such accuracy, Sam had a suspicion the human had been observing him too. Neither looked away, in fact his gaze seemed to intensify. What was that colour? He’d seen creation come alive, knew every shade, hue, tint in existence…and yet he’d never seen this shade before, speckles of dark and light dancing around his pupils.

He looked to be some point between his late 30’s to early 40’s. Ruggedly handsome, there were bags under his eyes, a sharp scruffy jaw like he’d forgotten to shave that morning and pink lips with pleasantly tanned skin.

Sam tried not to stare. He also tried not to knock things over because despite his wings tucked in the ethereal plain, they needed to mind and he was using all his energy to simply keep him upright.

The next time he glanced at the table, Blue Eyes was gone. Baffled by his disappointment, Sam gingerly walked to a lesser crowded corner and rearranged himself comfortably. Even if he was simply human, it would be a challenging feet regardless.

Trays of food were being passed along with plates, so despite not needing to eat, Sam helped himself to some. Time passed slowly as he watched the crowd mingling with familiarity and began missing Dean. His brother was the only one who understood him, who even stood up for him despite moving up in ranks like Gabriel, though not as top-tier. Dean never made him feel like he was…less.

A heavy feeling in his heart, Sam took a walk, smiled at people politely and interjected a lie whenever appropriate. Yes, he was passing through, no he came alone, staying the night? maybe.

Weirdly, women seemed to wait for a specific moment to speak with him. Sam wasn’t fooled. He knew the tradition of mistletoe, knew a kiss was mandatory. He didn’t like the way they looked at him though, and the one he wanted to he could see now, was deliberately avoiding doing so.

Unsure how to act like he belonged there, Sam stopped at a doorway easily looking over heads, for more reclusive spots where humans would leave him alone…

“Hi,” a gravelly voice said from behind and Sam turned towards them, being snared almost immediately by two mesmerizing pools of blue. It was him. There was a soft smile on his lips and shyness in his eyes as he went to speak further.

“You are…kinda blocking the pathway,” he offered, holding a tray with both hands in front of him. Sam stared in surprise, accidentally twitching his wings in the ethereal plain, toppling some items off a nearby table. For whatever reason, they seemed to still have a physical presence in the material world but invisible to plain sight. This never happened. Maybe his control was slipping?

“I should go,” he said aloud.

“No! I mean you don’t have to leave…”

This man didn’t want him to leave but only move? Move where? Like he could read the Angel’s mind, Blue eyes put his tray down on the conveniently bare space—curtesy of Sam’s malfunctioning limbs—and walked towards him, pushing Sam a little to the side.

Sam let him.

Getting the Angel to budge was equivalent to trying to move a boulder. Despite achieving their goal, the hands stayed on his chest, like its owner had forgotten about them.

Sam looked down at the man at least four inches shorter than him, and raised his eyebrows in question. “All good?”

Blue eyes’ had yet to move so fast, like Sam was hot to the touch. “Right. Well now that you’re out of the way, I can—“ he gestured behind him where Sam was sitting only a few minutes ago, but still didn’t budge until the sound of someone clearing their throat made them both turn.

There was a blonde woman standing in front of them, giggling delightfully at the human as she pointed up upwards. — Castiel groaned internally. Even before he looked up, Cas already knew what he’s going to find. Donna had been trying to hook him up with some of the town folk, and here this stranger was caught neatly in her web.

He had a job to do. Catering was tiresome work but the Christmas party was his biggest event, so he had to do it in order to stay afloat.

Instead, Jack refused to stay with anyone but him, and he had to bring the kid to a booze approved party. On top of it, of course the *one* person he’d actually been interested in would show up in an environment where service staff and guests weren’t allowed to mingle.

“Donna,” he sighed softly. “I’m working,”

“Shut the front door, I had no idea!” his best friend jested, “You’re the boss, you don’ count..” Donna whispered, smiling widely still and pushing him gently towards the guy.

Knowing better than to argue with the Sheriff, Cas reasoned this was probably the only time he was ever going to see this man. And Donna was right, he was the owner of the company…

This reason in mind, instead of introducing himself, Castiel grabbed the lapels of the suede coloured jacket, and tugged it enough to get the man to bend to meet him in the middle. He was going to savour this moment however long it lasted, and he had every aim to drag it out.

Just when he’d determined it an appropriate time for a mistletoe kiss, mystery man leaned in closer, arm wrapped around his waist, practically smooshing him against a wall of lean muscle.

Long strands of hair fell onto his face, and Castiel briefly wondered if they would feel as soft as they looked, wrapped around his fingers.

Caving into the urge, he gently carded his fingers through this tall man’s beautiful hair. So silky and smooth, he thought as he tugged at the strands, urging the brunette to bend down some more, going on the tips of his toes to close the height difference. — Sam was more than a little shocked at the forwardness of this seemingly awkward man but melted into the kiss anyhow. The gentle caress of his hair was turning him into goo and just as he was getting into it, he felt a double tug on his feathers.

His feather still in the ethereal plain.

Surprised he hadn’t sensed them, Sam broke the kiss abruptly and spun around expecting an Angel from the garrison, not a child looking at him. No, that wasn’t right…he was looking behind Sam.

“Soft!”

Sam froze in shock but the child was caressing his dark wings in wonder. It had blonde hair and blue eyes and were it a cartoon, it would probably have stars in them.

It could see his wings? How was that even possible? If it could see his wings, then there was no guarantee this thing was actually human, and from experience he knew looking like a human and being human were two entirely different things.

The thing kept touching him, though with utter care, like a loose feather would pain him. If there was a creature of this sort here in this town, was it being watched? Guarded? Would they think Sam was there to protect it or kill it…there were so many gue—

“Jack,” the man sighed, and picked up the little boy, “I told you to sit in the corner. Are you hungry? What can I get you?”

Jack shook his head, signalling he didn’t need anything, to which the boy got set down and the human sighed gustily, turning back to Sam, “Well, this was nice…”

“Uh huh,” Sam’s eyes were still on Jack, mind racing.

“I’m Castiel. Not that you asked, but I figured it is the most I can do aft—“

“Castiel?” Sam eyebrows jumped in surprise. A quick survey and nope, still human.

“Yes, I know its the angel of Thursday,” Castiel rolled his eyes, “No, I’m not religious,”

“Uhhh…okay,” Sam gave a small laugh under his breath. “I’m Sam by the way,”

“Well Sam, this was nice. Really nice actually, but I have to get back to work, so…enjoy the party I guess,”

Sam couldn’t have him leave though. This..thing..seemed harmless enough but what was it? Did the man know the child was not a child? Was he safe? He had to find out!!

“Oh, but…do you know where I can book a room? It’s too late in the night to leave, and I’m kind of on vacation and this place looks like a nice place to stay.” Sam gave his best form of persuasion—puppy dog eyes. It worked.

It always worked.

Castiel hesitated for about a quarter of a second and then grabbed Sam’s arm gently. “Come with me,” leading him to another guest. Quick words were exchanged and Sam heard the gist of it. The County inn was all booked up, as well as the motel at the edge of town.

“Looks like—“

“What about that big ol’ bed of yours, Cas? Think it will fit him?” — Cas sometimes wished his life was simpler.

That he did not have a cute eight year old shaped walking and talking weather and news app for a son, a gorgeous man didn’t walk into his party room hoping to find a place to sleep, and his best friend not inviting said man to sleep in his own bed.

“Donna I don’t think Sam would appreciate that,” Cas protested lightly, trying to remember if he’d even made his bed that morning. When was the last time he’d washed his sheets? When was the last time he’d cleaned the house..?

“Actually that sounds perfect!” Sam pitched in, and Cas didn’t have anything left as far as excuses went.

“And the party’s almost over anywhooo, the staff will clean up!” Donna chirped right in.

With four pairs of eyes watching him, Cas caved, “O-okay, I guess,”

Then to both Cas and Sam’s shock, little fingers reached up clasping two of Sam’s because that’s all he could reach and began pulling him toward the door. — “You can sit in the front room, I have to change the sheets. I suppose you’ll need clothes to change into something as well..let’s see what we can do..you’re not exactly small..” Castiel kept muttering, but Sam was sure it was more for himself than to inform his guest.

Sure enough, the man went up stairs the without a word, still saying things under his breath.

This human confused him. More that, he intrigued Sam. And then there was the boy who could see his true form. Which..right. Was the more pressing matter. Or at least should have been.

Sam sat in the front room as Castiel suggested with Jack, who nuzzled against his feathery side—reminding him yet again that this small human may not be human at all. He pet the kid’s soft hair absently, wondering if maybe he should do his own tests before he reported this unusual occurrence—when Jack crawled into the space his crossed legs made, and promptly fell asleep like a pup in the middle of a nest.

Sam froze not daring to move a muscle least he hurt Jack. He didn’t know how long he sat there staring at Jack blankly, but was deep enough in his head, not to detect company when Castiel came back.

“It seems he has adopted you.” Sam looked up to see Cas leaning against the doorway, watching them with a soft expression.

“Adopted me?”

“He doesn’t usually warm up to people right away. It took him more than half a year to like Donna, and she’d a literal angel! Doesn’t even cuss, that woman. But as you see, he took a real liking to you. I’ve never seen him like that with anyone else but me.”

Sam was not sure what to say to that. He couldn’t possibly explain that Jack’s fascination with him was only because of his wings. It was the only explanation. “What does sleeping in my lap got to do with anything?”

“Plenty.” Cas smiled softly as he kneeled beside Sam, gently picking up the lightly snoring boy, carrying Jack into his room. When he returned, he took up the exact same place on the floor as before.

They talked about everything and nothing as they sat by the fire roasting marshmallows. The marshmallows might as well be sponge in his mouth, but watching as Castiel tried to make him a perfectly roasted one, crowing in delight when he succeeded, well Sam would eat the entire packet if Cas wished.

After they settled back comfortably leaning against throw pillows, Cas told him about how he’d ended up adopting Jack though it wasn’t in the plans, and in turn Sam shared stories of his job helping people and how challenging it could be but also rewarding when sucessful, omitting all the supernatural aspects of course.

Cas fell asleep with his head resting on Sam and the Angel waited until he was fast asleep, before he moved Cas to the couch. He didn’t want to go to Heaven. Didn’t want another assignment but he needed to know what in the universe was that child.

—

“About time!” were the first words Sam heard, when he returned to the garrison. “Off in Bali?”

“Hi Dean,” he sighed. “Why would I go to Bali?”

“Sun. Scenery. What isn’t good about Bali.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Gabriel. You do know all his ‘disgustingly sweet’—as you love to complain about—drinks come from there?” Dean grunted in reply and Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Wow. You’re in a mood…What happened?”

“Gabe called me a dickless hoe-bag,” Dean grumped.

“Well..to be fair—“

“If you want to live another century I suggest you shut up,” Dean scowled, but then his expression switched to confusion. “Hey, what’s with the wings? Why are there streaks of blue in them?”

“Wha—“ Sam took a look for himself and oh no..Dean was right. He didn’t even know Angel wings could do that, could change in design…

It was a good thing for him, that Dean was more distracted than usual. “You actually came at the perfect time. we have a Nephilim on our hands. We have to find it, and fast, before the Demons do.”

“A Nephilim? There’s no such thing De—“ Sam stopped. Jack.

It had to be Jack!

“There is now,” Dean said, not noticing Sam’s frozen expression. “We almost had it earlier and then it disappeared from the radar. The Host wants to keep it hush hush for now. I’ve got my hands full, so does Gabriel. You’re the only one we trust with this. Look, it should be a quick job. Some human is hiding it and all you have to do is eliminate them and bring the Nephilim to Heaven.”

“I—what?” Sam’s mind was running a mile a minute. Panic raised within him, he couldn’t give—and Cas he couldn’t even imagine ‘eliminating’ him!! Instead he responded with a question, “How could you lose it??”

“It’s not like you can use an EMF tracker on Earth, Sammy,” Dean growled, frowning heavily.

“Dean—“

“Just find the human and take them out. The Nephilim’s young, easily trusting. It will probably follow you even you offered it something as simple as candy.”

Dean had no idea how right he was. It would be the easiest job yet, since Sam was at Castiel’s.

He spent the entire night debating what to do, before laying down on the floor beside the couch so that was where Cas spotted him the next morning. — Snow.

Heaps of snow fell the previous night, this wasn’t even in the forecast..but so much that the front door would not budge and it stood on top of four stone steps! Cas looked out one more time before quietly sneaking past Sam who like a gentleman, slept on the floor.

Opening Jack’s door softly, Cas sat on his son’s bed. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Mr. Sam stay?”

“Well..he doesn’t have much of a choice now, does he?” Cas sighed but held Jack’s hand to let him know he wasn’t upset. “Thank you though. It was very sweet of you, Jack,”

This was their own little secret and as long as no one knew, Jack could stay with him. Jack understood that too thankfully, despite being such a young kid. Cas suspected that type of knowledge was something unusual too. “Why today?”

“You wanted him to stay…”

“…so you made it happen,” Cas finished. Kissing Jack on the forehead, Cas tucked the bedsheets against this small human who’d won his heart the moment he’d stepped into the adoption agency and said, “Come down later, okay?”

“Okay Dad,” Jack wiggled back into the pocket created and promptly fell asleep.

Walking down the stairs, Cas startled to find Sam at the bottom of them. “H-hi. How did you sleep?”

“I’m a little sore,” Sam dimpled, mischief in his eyes. Cas grinned.

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat..” Sam replied, putting his hands in his pant pockets. Last night they had discovered none of the pyjamas Cas owned would fit him, but there was a loose sleep shirt and on Sam’s broad shoulders, were so tight it might as well have been second skin.

He looked absolutely delectable. Cas stopped when he was eye level with Sam, which meant at least two steps off the ground.

“See something you like?”

“Oh don’t even pretend you don’t know!” Cas scoffed, cupping the nape of Sam’s neck, and pressing his chapped lips against soft ones. Sam caressed his thigh before easily picking him up and Cas wrapping his legs tightly around the taller man’s waist, was carried like that into a brightly lit room that could only be the kitchen.

Set down on the counter, Sam stood between his legs, hands roaming the expanse of Cas’ back, fingers just about dipping under his shirt, when he spoke, “I could do this forever,” Sam murmured against his lips.

“Hmm..” Cas buried his fingers in Sam’s soft hair, barely breathing since he didn’t want to part from Sam, when his stomach rumbled loudly.

“I guess my body disagrees.”

“Not all of you,” Sam quipped slyly.

Cas pushed him aside playfully and hopped onto the tiled floor. “Oh by the way, you need to know…it snowed a ton last night. Tons like can’t open the front door because its packed against it.”

“Oh. The forecast said sunny skies?” Sam sounded surprised, but there was a hint of something else that Cas couldn’t place. He wasn’t overly bothered by it. Snowed in, he had Sam all to himself.

Well him and Jack, but he didn’t mind sharing. — Sam knew he was sinking deeper and deeper.

Seeing Jack trusting him so easily last night, Sam now knew it was because Jack was part Angel. That’s why he felt safe with Sam, felt protected, they were kin in a way. There was no way he’d cause harm to the pup now. Jack really was innocent…he was oblivious of the dangers of the world and introducing him to violence would tip that scale, might even destroy him. As long as that didn’t happen, Sam was sure Jack would continue to be a happy boy.

And then there was Cass. Cas who’d besides the initial hesitation—Sam realized was more embarrassment than fearful—had been open and welcoming. He didn’t put up any pretense and he had no shame expressing his attraction to the Angel, but not in a pushy manner. Cas was changing his perception and there wasn’t even a little bit where he fought it.

Instead he enjoyed his time with just Cas, flinging pancake batter on him while the human was trying to be serious and not burn whatever was on the stove. Their shenanigans continued up until Jack arrived.

They made cookies the next morning, Sam and Jack making a mess of themselves and after a lot of rolling of the eyes, Cas joined them. Later that night, Sam lay down on Cas’ bed. Donna was right in the sense of the bed being wide. Having never needing to lay down, Sam found the whole thing weird, feet still managing to stick out.

“You can tuck your feet under, you know?” Cas laughed softly beside him, spotting Sam’s expression. Sam turned to face him instead. They stared at one another just like the time in the party hall.

“You have beautiful eyes, Cas”. Sam watched as a deep blush rose in Cas’ cheeks.

“And you have beautiful hair.”

“Is that why you like playing with them so much?”

Cas smiled at him lazily, a retort quick on his tongue. “as if you don’t enjoy it.”

Sam only hummed. Cas scooted closer and kissed his nose, linking Sam’s fingers with his, in the most intimate gesture Sam was yet to experience, “I wish you didn’t have to leave…” his voice trailed off, before he fell into a deep sleep.

With the knowledge that Cas definitely wouldn’t wake Sam allowed his wings to materialize, draping them onto Cas.

The meaning of Cas’ words finally made sense the next day, when Sam glanced out. The snow had completely melted, given creating slush and a lot of puddles but other than that, if he were human, it would be safe to travel.

What this revealed however, was that Cas knew something, otherwise how would he have been able to predict the extreme switch of weather? Honestly Sam wished Jack would stop, not only because it meant he no longer had an excuse to stay with Cas, but the Angels would definitely take notice.

That still meant he had to leave though. Breakfast was a somber meal, Cas not saying much. He did hold Sam’s hand throughout, even if it made it hard for him to eat. Sam didn’t resist because he realized he needed it too. Maybe if he was built the same as other Angels, it wouldn’t be so hard.

But he wasn’t. And it was.

One of the last moments they had was when Cas pulled out his fone and suggested they exchange numbers, “Just in case” he’d said. It read more as ‘I’ll miss you, please don’t disappear on me.’

Following suit, Sam pulled out his and typed his contact space as ‘Cass’. Castiel reached over his shoulder, again standing on a higher step and reverse linked their fingers so both palms were up, so he was now holding the device and pushed the delete button once, so it read ‘Cas’ instead.

“Does it matter?” Sam asked confused.

“Trust me, it matters,” with a fond smile, Cas quickly pecked Sam on his cheek.

Cas thankfully didn’t see when Sam gave Jack one of his downy feathers. “Our little secret okay?”

“Secret.” Jack nodded, smiling so brightly, Sam felt a pang in his heart. No matter what happened, he hope Jack would retain his innocence. It was Sam’s favourite thing about him. That and how he’d crawl into Sam’s lap, as Cas looked on.

“Take care, okay? Promise me.”

“I’ll try. Okay yes, yes I will take care,” Cas amended after Sam glared at him. “And..you too.”

“Sure.” — “Cas! Cas you here?!” Sam’s panicked voice carried easily up the stairs, where Cas was getting ready to use the shower. Strange. He didn’t recall hearing the door open with a ‘ping’, but something in Sam’s tone didn’t allow him dwell on.

“Sam? What is it?” Castiel rushed down the stairs, and Sam upon seeing him, looked like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders, but he wasn’t relaxing, not completely.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I tried. I tried every which way but—the storm maybe I’m not sure—they can’t find you, Cas! I can’t please—“ Sam’s frame shook. Cas had never seen him so undone and it scared him.

“Sam what are you talking about?”

“Mr. Sam?” Jack’s sweet voice called behind them and Sam turned, dropping to his feet fluidly, practically swallowed Jack in his arms.

“Jack..oh than-k you, you’re safe,”

“Sam?”

Sam’s shoulders tightened again and it hurt Cas to see him like this. Their parting had been bittersweet, and Cas had missed Sam’s warmth for the last couple weeks. Good Lord his dimples! Cas yearned to see them again.

Sam finally stood up and took a deep breadth. “I need you to close your eyes.” Seeing Cas about to ask why, he insisted, “Please. You trust me? Please, Cas.”

Feeling slightly foolish, Cas did as was requested, when he felt that familiar sensation of wind but not wind. Then he was being enveloped in a hug, comforting and warm and…safe. He’d thought he’d dreamt this up, but this feeling felt so good.

“Now open your eyes.”

Cas blinked once. Twice. Sam’s hands were by his side..then what was…Dark brown walls the same colour as Sam’s hair had materialized and wrapped around him like a cocoon.

“I’m an Angel, Cas. I know this must be hard to digest right now, and I understand if you…” Sam bit his lip in a nervous gesture. Not knowing what to say, Cas backed up only to feel a wall of feathers at his back. Despite looking like steel, it felt—

“Soft?” His eyes widened with shock and darted towards Jack. How he’d taken so easily to Sam, how he cuddled up like a puppy, how mesmerized he seemed early on.

“Soft!” Jack clapped happily that his dad finally got it.

“He’s been able to see them this entire time?!” Sam nodded solemnly.

“I know he’s not like…everyone else. He..he knows when people are coming even before they’re on our street. He knows if something terrible is going to happen and prevents me from going out of the house. He brought rain when there was a drought—“

Something must have tipped Sam off to reply “—excessively. But the flood happened in California?”

“He was watching TV, Sam.” Cas felt a brush against his cheek. Unknowingly, he’d moved his head to rest on them, feather’s tickling his cheek. “So. He is..”

“He is not dangerous, he is in danger, Cas. So are you. I’m going to try to fight them off, but first this is going to sting,” Sam put each of his large hands on Cas and Jack’s chest and Cas felt a surge of energy pass through him. “I’ve carved sigils on your ribcage that prevent Angels from tracking you. “That should give us some time.”

This was all too much for Cas. Sam wasn’t human, he had wings—beautifully majestic wings he could appreciate later—but what they were being hunted? Why? In his confusion his tone took a sharper edge.

“Some time for what? Because I’m not leaving, Sam. This is my home.”

“It will be temporary, I promise.”

“Temporary for how long? My mom always told me it was temporary that we stayed in motels in a new town. She would promise a house, a mailbox, a permanent school. I never got that house Sam—I was relocated to another town, another motel, another “temporary”. So I ask you again. How long? And if the answer is ‘I don’t know’, then Jack and I are staying put.

“If my son is wanted by the supernatural, it means he’s powerful. If they feel threatened, he’s really powerful. We can stay. You can stay.” Cas prayed Sam knew what what he really meant.

“If I stay, I’d fall. I’d lose my wings, I’d be human..” Sam’s voice went quiet.

“Would being human really be so bad?” The words were out of his mouth before he could consider them. Cas dropped his eyes to his feet, feeling vulnerable. He hadn’t opened himself to another in a really long time. He was being selfish; he was being a hypocrite.

“I’m sorry. No, no you’re right,“ he swallowed the lump in his throat. “You should go. If th-that’s what is best for you, I und—“

“I love you too, Cas. And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Cas felt weightless at the confession and tugged Sam to him, kissing him slowly, softly. Lovingly.

“No mistletoe?” said a small confused voice and it caused both Cas and his angel to smile into the kiss. — In the end things were pretty anticlimactic. The door was busted off its hinges as five Angels streamed through, Dean leading them.

Sam stood at the front, Cas on his left holding an Angel blade and Jack on his right, looking completely uninterested as he sat on the floor playing with plastic dinosaurs.

“I don’t want to fight you brother,” Sam said, looking solely at Dean, wings spread. “But I will, if I must.”

Dean glanced towards the human with an Angel’s name, looking unfazed at the appearance of Sam’s wings, or that Sam was shielding him from them. Narrowing his eyes, Dean realized Castiel’s eyes were the same colour as the new streaks on Sam’s wings. There was only one explanation for the change.

Dammit Sam! This was the worst ‘man walks in the bar’ joke. Except it wasn’t a joke. It was his brother in love.

He took his first good look at the Nephilim in question. It was looking right back, the delight plain in his eyes as it squealed, “Mo’ wings!” It was..it was a child. Part child anyways but Dean couldn’t sense any maliciousness coming from it.

There was no way Dean was going to take it away from its family now.

Just for the sake of reporting an interrogation, Dean said, “He caused a severe snowstorm that hit seven other states. That level of damage is hard to explain in places not known for snow!”

“Mr. Sam was leaving. Dad sad. Then Dad happy. Then Dad very happy!”

“Jack!” both Sam and Cas reprimanded him, blushing furiously. Dean smirked inwardly, okay this just got entertaining. He decided he liked the kid.

“The flood?”

“There was a drought,” Castiel added, despite Sam advising him to leave the talking to the Angels.

“And the hurricane in Africa?”

Sam frowned as did Cas, “I don’t know that one…”

“The lions wanted to eat the baby elephant. Elephants are nice. Lions were not nice.” Jack frowned disapprovingly.

“So he relocated the pack…that is kind of adorable,” said an Angel behind Dean.

To which another muttered, “I’m not arresting Sam’s son. Might relocate me too..” There were multiple muttered agreements. Cas looked over at Sam, who seemed as confused as he felt.

“Okay one last question,” Dean said, and all eyes snapped to him. “When’s the wedding?”

“DEAN!” —

#Sastiel #samstiel #castiel #sastielcc #sassy love #sam x castiel #castiel x sam #cassam #samcas #sastiel fic #sastiel fanfic #reverse au #sastiel secret santa 2019 #jack kline #angel!sam #human!cas #human!castiel

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introvertguide · 4 years ago

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King Kong (1933); AFI #41

The latest movie for review was the one and only creature feature on the AFI top 100 list, the iconic Kong Kong (1933). This was the equivalent of a blockbuster for the time as it was first presented at Radio City Music Hall for 4 days and all shows were sold out. The film incorporated layering technology that had never been utilized before, which I assume made the experience of watching in a 9,000 attendance capacity crowd on a 30 foot screen an amazing experience. The film did not win any awards, but has since been recognized as a defining film for special effects in Old Hollywood. I was able to track down a version of the movie with commentary by Ray Harryhausen and I want to discuss what was revealed about the film production, but we should do a quick summary of the film first. I will not go into too much detail since the film has been remade three times now and most everybody knows the story, but I still need to do the standard...

SPOILER WARNING!!!! I AM GOING TO GIVE AWAY THE PLOT OF A MOVIE THAT IS 90 YEARS OLD AND HAS BEEN REMADE TWICE!!! IT WON’T EVEN BE THAT IN DEPTH, BUT I GET IN TROUBLE IF I DON’T SAY SOMETHING ABOUT SPOILERS!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

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The film starts out with a movie director named Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) who is looking to discover an actress. He has a map to a secret island and he wants to shoot a film there. He hired a ship with a crew and his producer has secured a camera, but an actress is still needed. Denham scours the streets looking for a pretty new face that is desperate enough to not ask questions. He quickly discovers Ann Darrow (Fay Wray) as she is trying to steal an apple from an apple cart. He pays for her, gives her some food, and whisks her away on the boat.

On the ship, it is revealed that only Denham knows where they are going. He has a hand drawn map to a place called Skull Island where there is a giant wall that contains a world of monsters. Ann Darrow falls in love with the first mate, Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot), by the time boat makes it to the island. A large group goes ashore and they run into natives in front of a huge wall with a giant door. There seemed to be some sort of ceremony involving the sacrifice of a young girl, but that changes when the natives see Ann and they want to take her for their ceremony. The group from the boat decides it is a good idea to get off the island, so they row back to the ship. In the night, a group of natives spirit away Ann and her absence is quickly noticed.

Fires and celebration light up the sky and the crew figures out that the natives stole their actress. The tribe is then shown opening up the giant door, tying Ann to some rocks inside the enclosure, closing the doors leaving her alone, and then hitting a gong to summon the beast. The sailors all run up on the natives right as Kong appears and takes away Ann. The group including Denham and Driscoll open the door and half the group chases after Kong deep into the enclosure.

All of the men who go inside are slowly picked off by either Kong or dinosaurs that live in the enclosure, which turns out to be somewhat of a Jurassic jungle. Kong has to constantly fight off beasts that want to steal Ann from him including an allosaur, pterodactyls, and what appears to be the Loch Ness monster. With the constant barrage of predators, the chase team of sailors is whittled down to just Driscoll and Denham. Denham goes back to the gate and Driscoll goes after Ann. During one of Kong’s monster distractions, Driscoll is able to steal Ann and they flee back to the gate with Kong following behind. Everyone gets out of the enclosure successfully, but Kong is so mad he breaks down the gate and wreaks havoc on the native village killing many. Our three main characters and a few of the sailors that stayed behind to guard the gate run back to the boats with Kong following, but Denham is able to throw a gas bomb in the face of the giant gorilla and he is subdued.

The beginning of Act 3 has the hardest cut between settings of any movie I have ever seen, yet it makes sense in the movie. Kong is somehow transferred to New York from Skull Island where the beast is chained up. Time has passed (I am not sure how much) but the giant ape will be revealed to the public at Radio City Music Hall. Denham has made $10,000 in one night in ticket sales to see the beast and gotten ahold of the press to document the occasion. It turns out that Driscoll and Ann are about to be married as well. All of this is neither shown nor explained outside of about 1 minute of dialogue. Anyway, back to the film...

Kong is being displayed for the public and Driscoll and Ann are dressed in their best that Denham has bought for them. The couple are introduced on stage and then the press is brought in to take pictures of the beast. Kong becomes so enraged by all of the flashing that he breaks his bonds and escapes. He is somehow able to get out into the streets where he stomps on people and destroys an elevated train. Ann and Driscoll escape and hide in a hotel which Kong is able to find. He does pick a lady out of the wrong room initially and he just drops her to her death. Second attempt gets a jackpot and Driscoll basically faints while a giant hand steals Ann.

After some more destruction, Kong takes Ann and climbs the Empire State Building. They get to the top and planes are sent in to shoot Kong off the building. Eventually he falls and dies on impact. Ann and Driscoll are OK and Denham walks out of the crowd to see the body of Kong at the base of the giant building. The movie ends with Denham saying the famous line. “Twas beauty that killed the beast.”

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First, let me say what an absolute treat it was to watch this film with the commentary from the great Ray Harryhausen. That man is a class act with so much great insight into film making during the Golden Age of Hollywood. He was apparently 13 when the movie was released and he saw it in theaters on many occasions. The work of special effects director Willis O’Brien and producer Merian Cooper in King Kong influenced Harryhausen when he made The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, Jason and the Argonauts, and Clash of the Titans. The special effects in these films then influenced a huge list of great directors like James Cameron, Guillermo Del Toro, Tim Burton, Peter Jackson, J.J. Abrams, Wes Anderson, and George Lucas. I learned so much about the connection between King Kong and my favorite movies, it was just a great watch.

King Kong was actually made in three different sizes and there were multiple models of each. One giant gorilla head, which was manned by three men, with a single giant foot and a single arm with a hand, were made for the close up interaction shots with the actors. The fingers and toes on the full sized limbs had to be moved by hand (many very strong hands presumably) so there is no movement from the digits in these shots. A bunch of 2 foot wire framed puppets of Kong were made that could interact with the dinosaurs and the buildings around New York. Finally, a couple of six inch puppets were made to superimpose onto stock shots of the Empire State Building for the famous ending shots of Kong climbing the giant building..

Almost every shot in the film that didn’t involve a simple human interaction was created through layered shots. All the shots of the island, any shots of King Kong or any monsters, many shots of the jungle, and many shots of King Kong interacting in New York. The use of matte paintings in the far background with paintings on glass in front of those made all the shots seem deep and lush. In front of these were layered the stop motion puppets of Kong and the monsters and at the very front were humans and directly interactive props (cars, plants, huts, etc.). I never realized how much work went into every single shot of this film and I can see why it is so famous.

Another note is the direct influence on some of the most famous films of all time. The approach of King Kong started with sounds, went on to the effect of the great apes weight hitting the ground, and ended with the giant figure coming out from the trees. This method of introducing a monster has been highly copied, most notably the T-Rex in Jurassic Park.

The film was somewhat risque at the time and some of the film was cut on first release. Kong biting people and squashing natives was not originally included. There was a scene in which Fay Wray fell into water in her ripped white dress and that was not included. Also, Kong picks up a lady from the hotel that Ann is in and promptly drops her (she wasn’t blond so she has to go), which was harsh enough to be cut from the original release. None of this seems that bad today, but there were no restrictions on film in 1933 and studios didn’t know what would upset audiences.

One thing that struck me as funny while watching (and the commentators noted this as well) was how every character immediately loved and was willing to die for this blond white lady. Denham just found her on the street and the entire crew didn’t think she should be on board for about 3 minutes, then suddenly Driscoll loved her and the entire crew was willing to die horribly to save her. The natives took one look at her and thought she would make a better sacrifice then the young girl they had. Kong was willing to fight off all forms of monster to protect her. I thought he might have simply wanted a companion, but he tossed that other poor woman from the New York hotel down off a building. At the end, men shot the ape off the Empire State Building sending bullet spray everywhere in an effort to save the girl. I honestly don’t think she was worth it, but that is just one man’s opinion.

So is this film worthy of being on the AFI List? Absolutely yes. It does not have great acting, but the contribution to American cinema through the effects, the story, and the pure ambition is well worth a spot on the list. Would I recommend it? Across the board yes with no hesitation. I especially recommend watching with the commentary, if that is your thing, because watching this film and listening to Ray Harryhausen tell stories is an absolute treat. Definitely one of the best film watching experiences I have ever had.

#King Kong #1930s #black and white #american cinema #AFI list #special effects #stop motion #miniatures #introvert #introverts #classic film #ray harryhausen #commentary #dinosaurs

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soundsof71 · 6 years ago

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TURN IT UP! Joe Walsh with The James Gang, “Walk Away”, 1971

The James Gang was one of those bands that hit so much harder live than on their studio records that it’s almost impossible to believe that they’re the same guys. Their two 1971 albums offer the perfect contrast, Thirds (from whence comes this glorious single), and James Gang In Concert, recorded in May 1971 at Carnegie Hall and released later that year.

I’m surprised the hall was still standing when they were done. It’s the loudest slab of vinyl I’ve ever put on a turntable -- even with the volume turned all the way down, the racket coming straight out of the needle scraping through the grooves unamplified was flat out unbelievable. Very much in keeping with the ethos proclaimed in the liner notes of the previous year’s James Gang Rides Again, “Made Loud To Be Played Loud.”

This performance from Germany’s Beat Club, first aired July 24, 1971, somewhat splits the difference between the civilized, if still loud, studio band, and the utter savages (in a good way!) of James Gang on stage. Surely you’ve already pressed play, and heard Joe Walsh absolutely ROAR into this thing. If all you know of him is what you’ve heard on the radio or with the Eagles, you’re in for an eye-opening, and ear-opening delight.

I had once thought of this song as a pleasant bit of science fiction. The MAN in the song is the one who wants to talk about his feelings and where the relationship is going, while “you just turn your pretty head and walk away.” Riiiight. Because that’s how men are. Just won’t shut up about relationships. ‾\_(ツ)_/‾

Well, maybe Joe really IS that way, because the song sounds pretty damn persuasive, and other than being a little condescending, it’s not especially mean, which automatically sets him above most men of the day.

(1971 was the first great year for a wide swath women artists in classic rock, but women as a lot were alas still not faring well at the hands of male writers. Still aren’t, either, which is a story for another day.)

I actually started rethinking this song when I read what Stevie Nicks had to say about Joe Walsh, who she describes as "the great, great love of my life.”

She said of their breakup: “It nearly killed me. We had to break up or we thought we’d die. We were just too excessive. We were busy superstars and we were doing way too much drugs. We were really, seriously drug addicts. We were a couple on the way to hell.

But there was no closure. It took me years to get over it — if I ever did. It’s very sad but at least we survived.

He was the one I would have married, and that I would probably have changed my life around for a little bit, anyway. Not a lot.

[my note: the fact that she concedes that she’d have changed only a little bit, and only “probably”, suggests that she’s maybe not exaggerating the rest.]

There was no other man for me. I look back at all the men in my life, and there was only one that I can honestly say I could truly have lived with every day for the rest of my life, because there was respect and we loved to do the same things. I was very content with him all the time. That’s only happened once in my life.

This man, if he’d asked me to marry him, I would have. There was nothing more important than Joe Walsh — not my music, not my songs, not anything. He was the great, great love of my life.” (more here)

So on top of being better at relationships and rocking harder than you might have thought, he’s also a terrific technical guitarist, and a hilarious storyteller. I heard him tell a story on the radio in 1988 or so, involving him and George Harrison, that I’ve never seen documented, but I dropped everything I was doing to listen.

I even remember exactly where I was -- in the back room of the bookstore I managed in Washington, DC, way past time to go home, but I didn’t want to miss the end of the story during the long walk to my car.

This is paraphrased, but it’s pretty damn close. I started telling this story to everyone within earshot right away, and you’ll get why.

(btw, I don’t have a picture of Joe and George together, although they shared a stage a time or two. There are quite a few pictures of Joe and Ringo, though -- not only did Joe play in some editions of Ringo’s All-Star Band, they’re married to sisters! Marjorie and Barbara Bach, so yeah, they’re brothers in law.)

Anyway, Joe said that the one piece of advice he gives every guitarist trying to learn the instrument, “Learn to play every song The Beatles ever did, and sound exactly like they did. Doesn’t matter if you hate The Beatles or don’t want to sound anything like them when you’re done, but once you can play everything they played, exactly the way they sounded, you can do anything that it’s possible to do on a guitar.”

Well, there was one song that was vexing him, the very last one that he still couldn’t figure out -- “And Your Bird Can Sing” from Revolver. When he finally got it, he was beside himself. He called up George Harrison to make sure he was home (both fellas were living in Los Angeles at the time), said, “Stay there, I got something you gotta hear!”

He packed up his amps and his guitar, drove over to George’s house, and started setting up. “What is it?” asked George. “Just wait,” replied Joe, and kept setting up.

When Joe finally unleashed a note-perfect “And Your Bird Can Sing”, George fell out of his chair laughing. “How the hell did you do that?” “Well, it took me long enough to figure out,” Joe said, “so I was going to ask YOU how YOU did it.”

George said, “The way *I* did it was John and me playing in unison, and then double-tracked! I can’t figure out how you did it by yourself, even though I just saw you do it!”

Well, Joe was left feeling pretty good about himself, managing to sound like the equivalent of four Beatles guitarists all by himself, if a little exasperated to have spent so much time figuring out something that he should have known better than to try -- but he did it anyway. THAT’s Joe Walsh for ya.

I hope you’ve already hit play AGAIN on that blistering take on 1971′s “Walk Away” up top, because Joe really was killing it that year. There’s more to him than you probably think, too, so if you’re into the heavy guitar thing, you should definitely do some exploring.

Led Zeppelin fans in particular, I’m looking at you. Joe and Jimmy were friends from Jimmy’s days in The Yardbirds, and it was Joe who said, man, you’ve gotta quit monkeying around with that Telecaster. When you’re ready to rock, switch to a Les Paul -- and indeed, Jimmy bought his first Les Paul (known as “#1″) from Joe in 1969, for $1200, which Joe says he flew out to hand-deliver to Jimmy. Says Jimmy, “Joe brought it for me when we played the Fillmore. He insisted I buy it, and he was right."

(btw, nifty pic from Joe’s Twitter feed of him and Jimmy hanging out after LZ’s February 12 show at The Garden in 1975!)

I wouldn’t want to say that Led Zeppelin’s approach to live jamming was necessarily influenced by James Gang, but I’m saying that they were similar and Joe got there first. LOL And seriously, if you dig live Zeppelin, you NEED to know more about live James Gang and early solo Joe.

(More details about #1 than anyone but a gearhead would want here, here, here, and here, but hey, maybe you’re a gearhead!)

To give you a head start for exploring more James Gang and early solo Joe, I’ll add one more video, from 1972, “Turn To Stone” featuring Fanny’s Jean Millington on bass absolutely slaying dragons on this monster. As Joe told Rolling Stone,

"Turn to Stone" was written about the Nixon administration and the Vietnam War and the protesting that was going on and all of that. It's a song about frustration. Also, I attended Kent State. I was at the shootings. That fueled it, too. In those days it felt like the government's priority was not the population. They had an agenda that was about something other than doing what was necessarily good for the country.

A few years later [in 1980], I decided to run for president myself. [Ed. Note: Walsh pledged to make "Life's Been Good" the new national anthem.] I thought it'd be a great idea and I had fun with it. And the reason I did it is because there was, and there continues to be, a very apathetic attitude toward voting. There's a total separation between the federal government and the people. So running for president was an attempt on my part to get people to care enough to go vote. But people just don't bother. And that's why it's not working.

TURN IT UP!

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Oh what the heck, and one more from July 20 1971, from the French TV show Pop2, “The Bomber” (from 1970′s Rides Again) which includes a quick little nod to “Beck’s Bolero” along the way. (Well, technically I suppose, Ravel’s “Bolero”, and indeed, Ravel’s estate made them remove the reference from initial pressings of the album!)

And another note for LZ fans: Joe does some crazy stuff with his bare hands at around 2:30-3:30 going into “Bolero” that Jimmy did with a violin bow. THAT’s Joe Walsh for ya.

TURN IT UP!

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kurojiri · 5 years ago

Text

It’s inevitable

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Gen: Tony Stark & Peter Parker Summary: Half a decade later and Tony still remembers it; the felicity touch of his parental instincts he carried since meeting Peter Parker. Prompt: 100: The felicity of the first touch. A/N: Written for the Iron Dad 1000 Feelings challenge @irondad1000 Word Count: 2,894 Or read on: ao3 | ffnt

It had not been that big of a deal, he had hugs before (it made him think about Jarvis and his mother). Had fist-pumped with fans and friends alike. He had never been a stranger to someone caressed his cheeks when he remembered how Pepper did it, always so gentle, always attentive.

It had never been an alien concept. Tony had been well versed about it. Had harmless memories of it.

Yet.

When Peter came into his world it got harder to confront some of his emotions. The kid was just so reckless. So, spirited with innocence that few had these days. He made him want to protect him. Pepper saw it when he worked long hours with him, when he repaired and upgraded the suit. Happy did too when he picked up and dropped off the kid many times and listened to the many stories Peter had to share. Rhodey didn’t miss the train when he came over and shared very embarrassing stories from their youth when Peter asked about them.

It all had turned his life into a mushy mess with him picking up signals that he was getting very parental. Tony Stark had never called a family man, had never had the chance to explore it either. And when he gotten to meet Peter Parker, it still hadn’t fully clicked until it all winded out with the whole before and after the homecoming disaster. But it should have. It should have! There had been signs everywhere. All the makings of Tony seeing that the kid was more than a teen superhero that he was mentoring.

He was his kid. They may have not shared the same blood or were relatives, but Peter had become the son he never dared to imagine before he could have. He was the very light that he needed when all else turned into hell. He offered Tony a way to keep his life moderately safe. To have Pepper, Happy and Rhodey relieved that Tony could go a day with eating at a normal schedule if he had the kid nearby. To sleep better when Peter noticed the dark circles.

Peter had practically became the source of guilt trip if someone needed him to act like a normal functioning human being; and he couldn’t fault them for doing that. Nobody would want to disappoint the kid. Not when his brown eyes were the equivalent of puppies and kittens that stared at someone’s soul.

All those hours when they had laughed, when he accidentally parented his spider kid Tony felt like that there was this crawling sensation was coming in waves. As if, Peter’s continuous exposure into Tony’s life was spreading him into thinner layers. He needed to always have some way to communicate with him, to know if there were any new villains popping up. Tony really didn’t want to watch or have the experience of Peter’s form ever crumble. Because, it had been scary when the plane had crashed, and he later learned about certain pieces of what happened that night.

He hadn’t been stupid; he knew that Peter didn’t tell him everything.

But he allowed him time to go over his own triumphs and to hopefully find peace to ever confide with him.

It still struck him with awe that Tony had a teenager in the facility. Yes, it had been awhile since they established a routine for Peter coming and going to the facility while juggling being Spider-Man and being Tony Stark’s personal intern. The kid had a lot going for him, and Tony had been growing restless with how consistent he was getting paranoid from his nightmares.

It just felt like madness that his life really changed. And it all had been thanks for the positive effects from Peter and from his own life experiences of working on damage control when his mind went out of control. An unlucky perk of being a superhero.

He didn’t know why he had his dreams so often. Or why he kept them when he worked inside his lab. Tony just knew that some way or another he needed to have the perfect defenses for his family. For everyone that placed trust into him.

It had felt like it had been so long since he found a moment for himself.

To be only Tony. Not Tony Stark. Nor Iron Man.

Just Tony. The person that hardly ate right when Peter, Pepper or Rhodey were there to threaten him to act human. The same one that kept on working and working as seconds passed and multiplied as hours used for his eyes to look at screens or his hands padding through updates or calls. It all been a cycle. Watching, reacting and adapting. The only difference was that his close-knit family had grown from his mother and Jarvis.

It went through tragedies, triumphs and all in between.

Years, decades (if he wanted to be accurate) had brushed on his skin, he was no longer as youthful like before. The reflections that he saw had explored that reality. He had a kid. He had a fiancée and he was a superhero billionaire. That had been his life.

Was how it still ran when he woke up to that dream.

It felt so real. So warm. Tony had wanted it badly. He told Pepper so when they had been jogging by the park. And of course, she had her side, while he had his. Yet, he knew that they could work it out. It was them; it was all the years since they first met. He could see how much she wanted it too when he told her.

There had been a hesitation in her part; gods know he had those same feelings before when he had been going through endless bottles when he had been far younger. Sinking further from those ideas when he first didn’t know how to cope by been left alone. He had the stories to prove when he looked back. The dream though, had been what helped him see how much he wanted and needed another chapter in his life. Pepper and Tony deserved that kind of ending.

Didn’t they?

He had seen everyone else finding their own conclusions, and with Peter...Tony had seen a part of it. A bright kind of stepping stone where his heart could relax. He had wanted the world to finally let him rest so he could see the end of the tunnel.

Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, Tony still had a lot to learn from May. He always had known that mothers were strong figures, and he never doubted it when he remembered how strong his own had been with the kind of life they shared. When May Parker entered into his life, it had shown him how protective, caring and utterly lively she could be when she saw the whole picture. She became fast friends with Pepper, (not that it had been shocking, they both had a lot of common when it came to taking care of reckless people like Tony and Peter respectively) had wrangled a modest schedule to help him deal with parenting a kid that wormed into his world. She didn’t have to, but that had been the point. The Parkers were honest people.

Such a rare aunt-nephew duo when Tony had mostly known dysfunctional families and strangers in his life. It had reminded him of how wonderful Rhodey’s family was. A touch of normality that Tony could never achieved or been allowed since Howard had been his father.

He had wanted to protect them. Wanted them to know how grateful he truly been when she didn’t stop Peter’s internship and Spider-Man time. She and Pepper had become the very people that made it all possible when he couldn’t separate the paternal instincts he got when Peter came into his life. It all had been altered into something else that he couldn’t recognize. He was not the same person when he was 19—25—30. They all had different outlooks.

All different phases really, when he remembered how the world looked to a child, a rebellious teen, to a reckless twenty something years old self went through. It had a way to circle and morph into the one he had now. It proved that Tony was not a man that wanted to go back to the very beginning. He was a futurist. Someone that would and hall the essential makings to keep progress going. Having a kid had only amplified his desire to better the world. If only to pass on a worthy legacy he never had.

It had been why when Peter made his debut at the ship that made it all go to hell.

He could already sense how his heart wanted to explode. How his anger at the universe at large gave him this kind of obstacle. He didn’t—Tony couldn’t afford any more mistakes. Not when Peter with his large brown eyes were staring at him. With his go happy smiles at his movie references was still inherently a part of his charm as he worked alongside him.

When they crashed into a planet, when he had seen who exactly he had to work with to beat Thanos he desperately wished that the tag team that they formed wouldn’t cost them greatly. Strange, the wizard that had looped him inside the whole parade didn’t give him much to work on either when he told them their chances. But he was Tony Stark. A man that worked with impossible factors.

He would make it work. (Because, there was no other option; he couldn’t lose any more of his heart here.)

“Mr. Stark. I don't feel so good.”

He woke up to the sound of his heart racing. Never a good sign. His skin had been burning hotter as his throat clogged with the puffs of air that he could barely keep; Tony had desperately wanted to go back to sleep. To go about the hours when his body was shut down and he drifted off. It had been so long since he had been able to find a moment for himself.

His lungs demanded for him to detach himself from his own bed, to free his limbs from the blanket that had once promised a luxury he didn’t have for some time. It felt so raw, the boiling emotions of before reawakening his fears. To find himself so small again, powerless from being so broken and human. Pepper had been there for him, like always, trying to calm him. In the back of his head he knew that she had been doing her best to stay stronger for each other. And Tony—he, he had been waking up every day and night wondering why it had been him. Why did it choose Peter?

He had remembered how Peter clung to him. How desperately scared he had been. It all happened so suddenly, too quickly for them as Tony watched in horror as his kid turn into dust in his arms.

It had been a sight that never dulled since he had been left in space with Nebula. Or when he had finally been rescued. But the world after that, he couldn’t really call it one. The amount of people that died from the aftershock had said it all. More than half the population of the world felt it all. The repercussions of it all and the leftovers that made of the Avengers hadn’t helped Tony either.

He didn't stay there for long.

Rhodey, Happy and Pepper were left. Not even May survived it. He lost both Parkers. In many ways, she had been lucky because of it. She didn’t have to see her nephew’s name engraved alongside the rest that perished or vanished from that day. They both had been marked together, and Tony, he had been left on Earth to trace the names he both knew and couldn’t help. He felt all the weight of the world’s tears when he went there and each time he woke up.

He knew that he had been ‘lucky’ considering that he still had Pepper. That Rhodey was still doing his best as colonial, and Happy driving him when they both knew he needed to talk in the cemetery. But Tony literally lost his kid.

The same one he vowed that he would have protected when he first met him.

The coldness of the cement stone burned him, but he still traced his name. No matter the weather, no matter if he had business, he made sure to go there. That had been his new routine. Pepper understood when she went with him with flowers, when Rhodey tagged along when Tony needed another hand to tell him that he was still there, and Happy to drive him to the deli store that Peter loved so much.

Every day it would still hurt, and everyday Tony would notice that the grass had always been cut clean and sharp. And he knew why it had always been so pristine. So many visited, so many made sure to maintain the space. Because they all knew.

The world was so much colder and dead since that day.

Morgan had been his joy. Both Pepper and Tony knew that. And nothing could dispute that.

But. When he remembered the small wedding, when Morgan had been born, they both had known that everything had not been as perfect as it could had been. It hadn’t been like when he lost his mom or Jarvis. Something that he could fully put away into a box because when all was said and done, Tony knew deep down that he could have prevented it.

Ultron had been a terrible loss, the Sokovia Accords had been a very demanding ending to an era. But when Thanos happened, Tony knew that the moment had been when Tony knew how much the world could grow so much weaker and stronger. It all depended on the individuals themselves and how they carried the survivor's guilt since then.

Life went on.

As much as it had to.

Tony learned how to smile at his daughter, to his wife, to—he eventually learned that sometimes, people couldn’t always move on that quickly. And that had been fine. Because, he knew everyone coped differently.

When he heard from them again...when he had found a way to bring Peter back, all Tony could see was how the world could be shaped if they could achieve the impossible. How much he still needed to do. And so, Tony Stark went back to work.

It didn’t matter that all around them had been a big battle, where the screaming never stopped, and where his blood was running high as he memorized the absolute truth that he had his kid back. Peter was alive and right in front of him.

He was there with his hands wrapped around his son, they were both alive and Tony almost felt like he was delirious or in some strange bittersweet dream. Tightly, his heart squeezed as he heard Peter’s voice since a five-year silence. He listened to the choppy, so innocent chatter that Peter had always been known for. It held the same lightness he saw in Morgan when she first started talking; and like that, Tony felt so at peace, so relieved to have his kid back. The hug itself rallied his resolve to ending Thanos.

When the fight was over, when the nightmare would fully end, Tony Stark would make sure that his family would all be reunited under one roof.

“We won. We won Mr. Stark.”

It had been a sight Tony always wanted but had brushed it off as a dream.

After half a decade later and his body screaming in protest as he lifted his head, he saw it: Peter, Morgan and Harley in the same room. The beeping of the heart monitor however, had not been in the picture. Neither when the three heads snapped to attention when they heard the rustle of his blanket. His daughter had been the first to speak, to reach out for him. He had indulged her with a kiss on her forehead, and Peter and Harley both had sat on both sides of his bed.

He never had been fond of hospital beds, and the white walls, but when he saw his kids, all alive and relatively healthy, he couldn’t help but feel so grateful.

Tony Stark may have not been brought up to have such affectionate dealings from his father, but he did have memories of Jarvis and his mother. He had Rhodey watching out for him since MIT, gave Happy a work for his job when he hired him and Pepper since she first became his assistant to now loving wife.

It once may have been a thoughtless concept; but now, after all the tribulations that Tony had faced, he could say that now he was happy at where he stood. Since the first touch of meeting them all, Tony Stark finally felt at peace. Pepper came into the room and chuckled at bit at seeing a dog pile on Tony’s bed.

When she kissed his cheek, softly she said: “You can rest now, Tony.”

And he believed it. Because his whole family was there, safe and alive back in earth. Where they all belonged.

#Irondad1000 #iron dad #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #Tony Stark #gen #not endgame compliant #fic: 1-5k #background relationship #tony/pepper #Ii: It's inevitable

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queenofbumblebees · 6 years ago

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The 10 o’clock train

Okay u guys, so this is the first time that I post any of my writing, so if u got any comments or tips I’d be eternaly greatfull!!!

The sky suddenly opened up, and as the rain started to pour down, they ran across the street to the station. Already soaked, through and through, her otherwise loose dress stuck to her legs, as they made their way down the stairs. At the sight of an approaching lot of people, he gripped her hand tightly and pulled her closer, careful not to get lost in the swarm. Weaving in and out of children, couples and the occasional elder citizen, they held tightly on to one another. The crowd started to scatter, either hurrying up the stairs to the inevitable rain or further down the hall to the trains waiting to take them to their destinations. They got to the platform, and he made to loosen his grip, but she only held on tighter. He looked down upon her, meaning to tell her she could let go if she wanted, but she merely smiled at him, squeezing his hand for emphasis. Why on earth would I want to let go? Her eye seemed to ask. Her hair – which had been neatly arranged just 30 minutes ago – was now plastered across her face, her red dress no longer flowing in that special way, and yet she looked even more astonishing than ever before.

A train arrived at the platform, and they were once again crowded and pushed together by the countless people getting in and out of the train. She laid an arm around his waist, resting her head in the nook between his chest and shoulder. Above all of the noise, she could hear his heartbeat. She rather liked listening to his heart beating, especially when he’d be asleep, but she wasn’t, or whenever they were squashed together like now. The horde vanished as fast as it’d come once the train left, and the passengers started to make their way towards the exit. Above their heads, one of the speakers rustled as if clearing its throat, “Attention passengers, the 10 o’clock train towards the central station has been delayed due to weather conditions, we apologise for the inconvenience.” As the speaker once again rustled and went out, he turned his head to look down upon her, finding her already looking at him, with a displeased expression in her deep blue eyes. “Beautiful summer, huh?” he asked her with a crooked smile. Summer was always like this so they ought to be used to it by now, but somehow the poor weather always seemed to take them by surprise. “You’re not funny, you know!” she tilted her head back, looking at him as if she was getting cross. “Yes, I am. In fact, I’m so damn hilarious that only those of the highest intellect, might understand my impeccable sense of humour,” he looked away, pretending to think, “must be why you don’t get it, I suppose.” Before he saw it coming she withdrew her hand and whacked him at the back of the head. “Ouch!” he burst out, rubbing the spot with one hand. “You deserved it! And if my memory serves me right, when we first met, you proclaimed that I was ‘the funniest person, you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting’.” He shook his head, drops of rain falling as he did, and put both his arms around her small figure. Despite of the wet layers of clothes it felt nice, standing there his arms around her, as he snuggled her head into the comforting warmth of his body.

They stood like that for a while, his arms around her shoulders, her head half buried in his chest. After some time, she lifted her head, taking a step back to look him in the eyes. “So, how shall we pass the time? Seems to me that the train might not be here for quite some time.” He thought for a second, taking in the almost empty platform, and the few people scattered on various benches. He pulled back, letting go of her fully. Just as she opened her mouth to protest – already missing the heat from his body – he stretched out his left hand towards her. “Dance with me?” She started to laugh, but stopped abruptly as she laid her eyes on him. His face serious, eyes sincere and sparkling. “Well…uh…well there’s just the slight problem that I can’t actually dance.” His smile widened, “neither can I,” he conceded. “But we haven’t got any music either!” she protested. He merely ignored her, grabbing the headphones currently dangling out of his pocket and waved them an inch from her face. “Don’t we?” the crooked smile on his face grew.

They each took one of the earbuds, as he dug up his phone willing it to play her favourite song. As the song started to play he once more stretched out his left hand towards her. While she put her small hand in his larger one – both of their hands still shaking because of the rain. He slid his right hand around her waist, leaving it to rest on her back. They both took a small step closer to the other, as she finally placed her remaining hand upon his upper arm. The music began to pour out and into their heads, as they started to move – clumsily at first, but with each passing minute more and more sure of themselves and their partner. As the dance grew more fluid, and their smiles grew equivalently bigger people started to notice them – the two teenagers dancing happily as if they hadn’t a care in the world. The minutes passed, just as the people around them, yet neither of them noticed, utterly infatuated with each other and the music only they could hear. Time passed, the arms on the clock above their heads moving around, trains arriving and leaving, neither of them bestowed with the pleasure of bringing the young couple home. No, they just stayed there at the platform, unaware of the time that passed – happy in the company of the other.

#london #underground #romance #new #new writers on tumblr #girl x boy #hope you like it #my first story #popular #please read #attention #omg #omg writing #uhm #what should i tag this #hopeless romantic #writer #its probably not that good #please read it

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captainmarvels · 7 years ago

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heartbeat

Summary: Frank needs you close.

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 1,469

A/N: I got this idea stuck in my head after staring at gifs of bearded Jon, so enjoy! My love for Frank knows no bounds. | masterlist

A heartbeat is soft.

So soft that it is quite hard to catch, even if you strain yourself.

A heartbeat is soft. But it can also be hard.

Loud. Fast. Slow.

Gone.

A heartbeat is the only way to know if someone’s alive.

Truly alive.

Even if their heart beats, if their soul is gone - they’re gone. Forever.

The heartbeat is the line between life and death.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

Frank had been gone for almost a month now, and you couldn’t take it.

Your restless nights turned into sleepless.

Your dreams into nightmares.

You couldn’t handle coming home to an almost barely apartment; save for Duke, your loyal pup.

It was an early Saturday morning, and you found yourself staring at the white ceiling, counting every passing siren. Glancing to your nightstand, you note the time. 5:30 am.

“Fucking hell.” You mumble, tearing the covers off your body, goosebumps rising on your skin as the brisk air envelops you. Duke turns to face you, his tail wagging as he tilts his head. You glance down at him, smiling as you pat Frank’s side of the bed. The dog pauses, his gaze darting between you and the empty space.

“C’mon, Duke. Dad won’t be mad, I promise. He can fight me if he wants.” The dog barks, jumping onto the bed. You giggle, watching as he lays on top of you, his paws resting on your forearm. You aimlessly stroke his back, occasionally scratching behind his ear.

After a few minutes, you decide it’s time to rise and shine.

“Who wants to go out on a walk, bud?” Duke scrambles off the bed, heading straight to the front door. You laugh, shaking your head as you pull on Frank’s flannel. Once you grab an apple and brush your teeth, you clip on the dog’s leash, pull on a jacket, and head out.

Hell’s Kitchen was a mess, but you couldn’t help calling it home. You and Duke made your usual rounds, winding up in front of the local diner, only a few blocks away. You spotted an open bench, letting Duke sit with you. You surveyed the familiar surroundings, your mind blank yet clouded as you sat. Four weeks was too long, even for Frank. You never talk to him about it, but it always hurt you when he left. You knew what he was doing, and that it was the right thing for him to do. Yet you couldn’t help but think you weren’t doing enough for him. Enough for you both.

Duke pulls you back from your thoughts when his cold nose starts nudging your chin, his tongue licking at your neck. You gently pull him back by his collar, smiling as you kiss the top of his head. “Let’s go, pal.”

10 minutes. 20 minutes. 30 minutes.

He’s been standing outside the apartment door for God knows how long. The key is in his hand, but he can’t seem to bring himself to unlock the door.

He hears the neighbor down the hall open their door, dragging him back to the now.

“Oi, Castle. You finally back?” The rough voice echos in his ears.

“Yeah.” Frank says, his hand on the doorknob.

“Nice seeing you in one piece.” The door squeaks shut, the locks clicking as Frank slowly turns the knob.

Welcome back.

It’s almost noon, so you decide to head home for some much needed sleep. Well, an attempt at getting something equivalent to sleep.

Duke and you are climbing up the stairs when you run into your neighbor, Paul.

“Morning, sunshine and company.” Duke barks, wagging his tail as he stops on the top step.

“Morning, Paul. Drag time?” You nod to the pack of cigars in his hand. The man nods.

“Your man’s home.” You look at him, eyes wide.

“You sure?” You whisper, your hand gripping Duke’s leash.

“Yeah; was actin’ funny, too. Standing outside your door like he didn’t have a key or somethin’. Wasn’t there when I left, though. Dunno if he made it inside.” He shrugs, tucking a folded newspaper under his arm. “See ya later, kiddos.” He leaves you hanging, your jaw slack as you pat Duke’s head.

“I guess Dad’s home, boy. Let’s go see.”

You reach your front door, your key nearly falling out of your hand as you try to get it in the lock. As soon as you open the door, Duke’s running in, leash dragging behind him, looking for Frank. You kick your shoes off, hanging your jacket on a coat hook before heading into the apartment. You glance over at the kitchen. No sign. Then you hear it.

“If you drool on the couch, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t care what your momma says. You’re gone, you fucking mutt.” Frank’s sitting up, Duke between his legs, his head resting on his lap. Frank’s scratching behind his ears, smiling even though his threat is very much real. You stay back, leaning against the wall as you watch.

“Where’s your momma, boy? I know you’re not smart enough to get in by yourself, Duke.”

“Stop bullying my son, Castle.” You say, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you mockingly glare at him. Duke barks, escaping Frank’s grip, coming to paw at your legs. You scratch behind his ears, giving him a small kiss as you take off his leash and collar. “Go play, baby. Here,” You hand him his favorite bone, and the dog walks off to your bedroom.

Frank’s turned to face you, his sad expression making your smile fall away.

“What’s wrong, Frank?” He shakes his head, holding his arms out.

“C’mere, baby. Please.”

You close the distance between you, Frank’s arms instinctively wrapping around your waist as he rests his forehead against your stomach. Your hands find their home in his curls, scratching his scalp lightly as your fingers toy with his locks.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby girl.” His words are muffled by your shirt, his grip on your waist tight. You pull on his hair, earning a low groan from him. Frank pulls away, his eyes glassy as he looks up at you. You tilt your head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You move a hand to cup his chin, your thumb softly running across his bottom lip.

“I missed you too, baby. What’s wrong? You okay?” Your other hand goes to his shoulder, pulling his shirt down to inspect any injuries. Frank nods, unbuttoning the flannel to reveal your stomach. “Whatcha doin’ there, Castle? I just got here,”

Frank pulls you towards him, his lips pressing kisses along your exposed skin, while his beard rubs gently against you. He hums as your hands return to his hair, his hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your back.

“You haven’t been sleeping, girl. C’mon, let’s go.” Frank stands, his hands dropping to the backs of your thighs, lifting you up. You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He lays you down on the bed, pulling away to strip off his shirt. He leaves his jeans on, only slipping off his belt before coming back to you.

Frank pushes you down on the bed, nestling himself between your legs.

“Wearing my clothes again?” He asks, smirking as he toys with the buttons of his flannel. You nod, your hands cupping his face as he leans in.

“Like I said; I missed ya.” He smiles, nudging your nose with his own.

“Can you do me a favor, princess?”

“Of course.”

“Hold me.” Your eyes widen, your head tilting as you meet his gaze.

The request was unusual. Frank was always the one who held you up against his chest, his even breathing and slow heartbeat lulling you to sleep, yours doing the same for him.

However, you could see he needed it; needed you.

“Always, baby.” You pull him down, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, your hands holding him as close as possible. He pulls away, trailing kisses along your jaw to your neck, his beard grazing your soft skin. He drops onto his side, his head resting on your chest, right above your heart. Your arm wraps around him, pulling him against your side. He wraps his arms around you, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

You kiss the top of his head, your free hand stroking his beard.

You hear him mumble something incoherent, so you tap his cheek.

“Did you say something?”

“Your heartbeat. So soft. Gotta listen to it more. Gotta know you’re here with me,” You feel him smile, and you kiss his hair.

“I’m always gonna be here, Frank. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby girl.”

tags: @avengersandlovers @sebbytrash @lady-thor-foster @justasunflower @retroasgardian @atari-writes @vibraniom @wellfuckbuck @markfishbowl @becs-bunker @emscairstairs @desertrose-saku @howlingbarnes @fandomlyawsome

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #the punisher x reader #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fluff #the punisher fluff #frank castle imagine #frank castle drabble #frank castle one shot #the punisher imagine #frank smut #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader smut #frank x reader smut

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peilinsirpale · 7 years ago

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We've got it good here

For the @solarpunkstoryexchange Prompt: solarpunk in SPACE (in space colonies, in deep space)

Author notes: I got really excited about the prompt, but fell a bit short due to not being able to work out a plot or time to write. Because of these reasons, this has been mostly left on the brainstorming stage - It starts with a bit of a story and changes into brainstorming bullet points, which span about 3 generations (or more) of people living in the place. I hope you enjoy reading it!

A couple wants a kid. Or, to be more precise, a lesbian couple on the Mars colony decides they want to try getting a kid. Their friends and local colleagues agree to the plan. The Mars colony is a close-knit community, and they collectively decide that they will love and support the kid, whatever they are like. Whether they are rowdy or quiet. Whether they’re scientific or artistic. Whatever gender they are. Whether they're disabled or not.

The earth control doesn't like the idea, but they can't control what the Martians do, only do their best to adapt and help.

The first try- no. Second - another loss. Every pregnancy is keeping the whole Mars base at their toes. Constant checkups. Mental wellbeing regulated as well as physical health. The possibly pregnant woman is given less intense work and sports. She isn't allowed out of the areas with best radiation screening. She does still work, she has to, but she also spends a lot of time studying various things. Stuff about pregnancy, about children, but also music and literature and other kinds of arts. About all kinds of problems that may arise, but also about how to best take care of a child in general.

Her wife does a lot of studying, too, just as everyone else on the base. But she also takes the extra time to be with her pregnant partner. In all honesty, so does everyone. In some way, the child will be all of theirs. While in some way, they will be a child of all of humanity.

When the pregnancy doesn't end near the beginning, and then continues well for months, they are hopeful. And when a baby is born, after several years of trying, the Mars base celebrates. And far away, people on Earth celebrate the first human born off-planet.

As a small kid, the Mars-born child is unaware of their celebrity status on Earth. They will learn what it means, but not yet.

Brainstorming:

"what do you mean i can’t have a hydroponics in my room"

Mars!!

Planting plantsies; Bacterial protein; Critters?

"Is this something I can plant in? What if I add compost?" "Hey can we do smth of this plastic? Melt it? Sun? New packages?" Wind power in Mars?

"Uh-huh wanna be the dad of my kid?" "I'm gay" "It is dangerous™ but I want a kid let’s do it" "Ur their dad but also godfather"

Aka a lesbian couple and a gay guy decide to get kids. The kid lives with lesbians but dad is integrated in life and lives in the neighbourhood

How is it solarpunk? Do they decide to do it or something else despite being prohibited?

Closed loop system

Growing culturally significant stuff even though it’s inefficient - Doing, too

Everything that can be recycled, is recycled

Outside soil made usable via mixing with compost and growing stuff that can extract nutritients from it

3d printing

What plot? Everyday life plot?

Is there a lot of scarcity?

Do they have their own internet places? Earth internet connection, but slow? Friends at earth or other space colonies???

What if someone wants to move there? Exchange student? Could someone from earth be?

Friend with the aforementioned Mars-born kid? A science enthusiast - space kid more of an art person

Jump jump!! Very popular and also healthy. Climbing too!

Exchange students bring lots of Earth stuff with them. Some personal items, but mostly small things. For all, some spices not grown on mars, and other stuff they may need/ want / have requested.

Exchange students/new residents, how many? Five or ten? An nb person too!

Had lots of stuff to digitally read when on long travel. Travel is tiring and they ate mostly packed food bc it’s easy in zero-gravity (but also fresh vegetables that grow fast, and stuff grown in poo made compost - or is it just collected for use in mars? Probs. Other grown veggies)

Getting to know each other on the flight, also gotten to know each other on the before-launch stuff. One had to drop out at the last minute due to health problems :(

When on mars: “whoa there’s gravity!! How do I get used to this again??”

People of different professions. Some doctor, some scientist, some engineer, some person person like psychologist or smth

People exercise but also do crafts. Lots of 3d-printed stuff. Games!! Also on space flight! Full body sport games! Brain games! Very regular favorite games!

Lots of lag on online stuff though :( But lesser quality = ok and faster

Gardeners!!

So much focus on learning. And everyone got to do something, whatever they can. Even if they’d rather do art? Are ppl forced to exercise? Ableism what? How much is there of it?

Growing lights and lamps. Some, in living areas, syntethise daylight and night, some, in agricultural areas, are continuously on

Mostly plants that are small but wield lots of fast food, but some less fast food for special treats (like fruits from small pruned “bonsai trees")

A large open hall for sports, including stuff like soccer, tennis, and various team sports

At first the place is very small. It grows. The amount of ppl grows from less than 10 to more than 30. When the exchange students come, more than 50 - maybe around 70?

Someone rich gets there with their money? But is made to learn to do work and use the money not for themself but for the community. Is taught social and coworking skills etc.

Most people: problem? Research!

Several do digital art to some degree - or blog! Blog a lot. Or tweet or such. Videos! Of what life on Mars is like. Everyone must be aware that the public is interested.

Most time is spent in public areas. Work is often done in small groups. All specialised in something, but can do basics in everything.

Solar panels! Lots! On top of where the hub is underground.

Marswalks done rarely, and remote-controlled robots are used a lot. Robo bees! Roombas! Farming robots!

“Exchange students" the first few with not much previous experience. A bit less that 200 into tests, then maybe a hundred into further ed and evaluation, then a few dozen into training. Finally, about 10 best chosen. This way, younger people. Around 25 to 30 when to Mars. With a few more qualified people.

Biologists manage gardens. Engineers manage repairing and building new and 3d-printers. Doctors manage health. Chemists manage various stuff. Earth can always tell info and such when needed.

Downloaded books, online searches and videos though slow-ish to load. Calls and video conferences. New clothes from hemp grown on Mars!

Induction stove. Lots of food made by once. Stable food: beans? Sugar from where? GMO is used a lot. Sugar beets? Lots of new seeds brought every time something arrives - about every 2.5 years or longer. Good thing: no/few pests. Not many animals, possibly rats?

Most walls filled with stuff, esp. in older areas. Everyone owns not too many clothes. Maybe up to 5 outfits. Every time stuff is brought, they can wish for some. Not much though. A lot is 3d-printed on-site. Few personal belongings - most is co-owned. Works when there are few people and everyone knows everyone.

Baby gets clothes, most made of stuff grown on mars. Cutting made so it doesn’t trash fabric. Clothes are mended because making new takes a lot of resources. Kids’ clothes made a few sizes too big or so they can be easily expanded when they grow.

When exchange students come, there are a few kids. Maybe 3 who were born on Mars.

Kids are familiarized with work on Mars. Curriculum specialised for life on Mars. Made in unison with teaching experts on earth. No rigid school days, but a lot of learning. To work with the adults, though with an extra person to make sure they don’t mess things up.

A lot is automated. Taking care of the automated stuff is important.

Kids are not let into older parts. There are lots of things they may accidentally pull, and worse radiation filtering. They have some toys, 3d-printed. A few plushies, part or mostly made of extra fabric scraps

Space travel done in sleeping bags, they keep them when they come to mars.

Phones/laptops/equivalent for all. VR for games and learning! AR glasses?

Jewelry? Someone likes making it. Clothes, too - and customising! Recipes have to be fitted for Mars. Some people love trying them out.

Kid has a bit bad eyesight.

Main languages English & Russian

When did ppl first decide to *stay*? And not just spend a few weeks/months/years? “Hello we're looking for people willing to live on Mars" or “Hello we’re not leaving" ?

Mars colony grows. Also “Hey we’ve lived here for ages and I like my home planet I want to be independent"

There have been a few generations. Maybe this is the third gen. Someone child of one of the first marsborns. Is older - in 20s or 30s or smth

There is a growing community. Mostly scientists. But maybe a few other professions there too

Someone gets to make food! Communal eating almost daily or more - lunch or dinner? Dinner probably. Lunch often in work groups

Cultural feasts and celebrations are shared if applicable. Seasonings are valuable

Lots is made in laboratory. Even food like meat, but mostly medications etc.

People have to do some work and learn new stuff as long as they can. However most get significant osteoporosis when older. Eyesight loss is another difficulty, but there is an optical station that can make glasses. Things also start being adjusted for use with reduced eyesight.

Should it be somewhere else than Mars?

Over the years, parts of the base are adjusted to become as natural as possible, introducing new species into their ecosystem. Main agricultural areas are kept hydroponics, and some get turned into aquaponics systems (=includes fish, which also can occasionally be used as food)

Settlement at around equator or at middle to pole, on a flat area

Room- or apartment-like parts connected to each other by hallways. Old parts and newer parts. 1 floor and sometimes 2 OR MORE!!Like a department store!! Especially some housing areas. Or like a cruise ship with a “promenade" and rooms with windows there? Elevators?

Climbing is loved and easy because of the lower gravity, but it needs to be made safe because breaking a bone is very not good.

#uhhhhhhhhhhh i have no idea if i like this #i like my ideas but i just wasn't able to make them into a proper story because plot?? what is that?? how does it work??#also english felt so difficult but i blame that it's a foreign language #oma

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