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soliverse · 4 years ago

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SAY YOU LOVE ME - PART 4

rockstar!taeyongxjournalist!reader

genre: angst, suggestive, romance

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse and manipulation, panic attacks, stalker behavior, and cussing

1 ⭒ 2 ⭒ 3 ⭒ 4 ⭒ 5 ⭒ finale pt 1

Length: 3k

ps: if you are not comfortable with that sort of stuff, I will insert a warning within the story so you can skip it.

Also: the story is fictional and is no way related to NCT and its brand, especially Yuta. These are all a part of my imagination and I felt like it was needed to push the story further. Again, happy reading! - Ellie

The boys of 1:27 made a detour on a small BBQ shop on their way home to celebrate their successful performance for that night. Charlie promised them that she’ll pay for dinner and so they are stopped at the BBQ shack that they passed by on their way home. Everyone excitedly stepped out from the minivan with their arms around each other.

At this time of the night, they were the only ones inside the place. They took it as a go signal to be loud and did as they please. On a respectable manner, of course.

On one side, Johnny was filming a vlog with Mark and Doyoung. They talked about how they had fun at the performance and they wished that they can do more stuff like that in the future. Meanwhile, Taeyong helped Charlie decide what and how much to order.

The pair came out alongside the staff to help them in carrying their massive order. They brought out about five trays of barbeque and side dishes which almost didn’t fit the small rectangular table that they have. They thank the staff for their troubles and started gobbling marinated meat right away.

The staff then came out with another tray. This time, it was filled by glasses containing amber-tinted liquid.

The boys cheered as Charlie went around the table and gave each one a glass. Mark was the first one that was handed the drink and so he took a sip right away. He then started laughing uncontrollably as he takes a sip once again from the glass.

“Dude, it’s apple juice.”

Charlie went back to her seat smiling smugly.

“Of course, it’s apple juice. I’m not going to baby your drunk asses off when we get home.”

The table went quiet, filling the room with sounds of chewing and utensils clanking over plates. Doyoung tried to lighten the mood up and started sharing stories about the miniconcert that they were invited in. They also got along well with the other performers and started taking pictures with them as well.

Charlie whipped out her phone and showed everybody pictures and videos that she captured while they are performing. They can all hear the cheers and screams coming from the videos. The loudest was definitely Charlie. Everyone was excitedly jumping up and down and singing their song with them. They got all hot and sweaty from the humid weather and moving around the stage. That didn’t stop them from interacting and hyping up the audience. She even argued that it made them even more appealing, especially to the young ladies watching. Some of them even tried to get the boys’ number but they all politely declined and just settled for selfies instead.

They also played games that night which resorted to Mark paying almost half the bill as they left. The guys thanked the owners for not kicking them out for being so noisy and promised that they’ll be back to eat there again. They hopped inside one by one and passed out as soon as their bodies touched the seats.

Taeyong stayed up for a bit and waited until everyone was asleep. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and leaned on the glass window, making a tired peace sign. He sent you the pic and typed a message right after.

Taeyong: We did well today. I’m almost home. Missed u.

His thumb hovered over the send button for a while. He cringed at the last sentence and erased it before sending it to you and popped in his eyemask and headphones to sleep.

///

“Any more questions about your assignments for this month?”

Everyone remained quiet and just shook their heads in response. The team meeting took longer than expected and it is already past lunch time. You were impatiently scribbling on the notes that you took earlier. A little trick that you do so you will look like you’re busy doing something productive. Your thoughts are now clouded by hunger and boredom and and you kept looking at the clock ticking. You are silently praying that no one will ask a question and extend the meeting any further.

“Okay then.”

The supervisor, an old guy in his early fifties, finally closes the presentation and started closing the tabs in his windows. He shut the laptop down and slammed it close.

“We’ll see each other again same time next month. Remember to stick to your deadlines.”

Finally.

The room rattled as everyone tries to pack up their stuff and get out as fast as they can. You stood up from your chair. You did a bunch of weird poses to stretch your aching body from sitting down too long as you waited for the crown to dissipate before walking away from the room.

You grabbed your handbag from beside you and dug through tons of your unorganized stuff before you were finally to fish your phone out to do a time check. Instead, you were met by tons of photos and videos sent by Charlie that morning. They were mostly pictures of them rehearsing and goofing around the area. A slight curved on your lips as saved all of them in your phone and made your way into the breakroom.

Things are going well for the past couple of weeks. You and Taeyong barely talked before the event because he was busy practicing but at least you can finally look him in the eyes. Greetings are also once again exchanged, you even sent him off on their way to the event. With that out of the way, you’re finally able to catch up on to your prior commitments and saved yourself from being fired that week.

You bolted to the breakroom because you can now hear your stomach complaining. You politely bowed at everyone inside and snaked your way through a bunch of your coworkers. Today’s hot topic was them complaining about how long the meeting was and that Mr. Supervisor purposely stretched the meeting out because he wanted to spite all of you. None of that mattered to you though. The croquette that you made last night for lunch was the only thing on your mind. Upon reaching the fridge of the tiny breakroom, you microwaved your lunch for a few seconds before to your cubicle to eat in peace.

You greeted the one sitting beside you before you took a seat. The stacks of folders and papers were set aside to make way for your lunch bag. You carefully took the contents and dived right in to calm down your growling stomach. At the same time, you decided to pop in an earphone and listened to some of 1:27 recordings while eating. A ding! interrupted the music so you absent-mindedly opened the messages without seeing who it’s from.

Abby: Hey boo.

The text intrigued you. She wasn’t the type to text someone unless it’s an emergency.

You: Oh hey. What’s up?”

Abby: Don’t freak out, okay?

Abby: I think I saw Yuta in the mall today.

You felt a lump on your throat, and it wasn’t your lunch. You felt as if someone threw a bucket of iced water at you. You’ve set your lunch down and immediately pressed reply.

You: You sure it’s him?

You: Guy might be visiting his sis. I’m sure it’s nothing.

Abby: You sure?

Abby: Would you like to stay at our place for a while? I’m sure big bro wouldn’t mind.

As much as you wanted to stay over at anyone’s house for tonight, the Li household wasn’t the best option either. The last time you slept over, he glared at you whenever you tried moving anything in the house by a small fraction.

This might be an overstatement but the only thing scarier than Yuta is judgmental Li Yongqin.

You: Yeah, it’s probably nothing. Don’t worry about me.

Abby: Just in case something happens, you have my number okay? Be safe.

You dropped your phone at your desk and you felt your body getting colder and your breaths getting shorter once again. Eating lunch didn’t feel right anymore so you placed the lid back on and slipped it back, exchanging it with the water bottle. You drank half of its content and took deep, long breathes to slow down your racing heart for a bit. You dizzily bobbed your head down and rested your head on your folded arms. People asked if you were okay but you just smiled weakly and insisted that you’ll just sit the day out until office hours was over

As the day ended, Abigail Li picked you up from work that day. She insisted that if you’re not staying over at their house, the least thing that she can do was to make sure that you get home safely.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to stay over? I’ll lock Yongqin in my closet upstairs if it makes you feel any better.” Abby knew what her brother did last time and she made Ten apologize for the glaring at her. He did some half-hearted apology before glaring one last time and shutting himself back to his room.

“Relax. I’ll be fine. It’s been years since we’ve last seen each other. He probably moved on already.”

A sigh left her mouth.

“Fine. Don’t forget to lock everything when you sleep, aight?”

///

The first thing you did as soon as you got home was to lock everything just like what Abby said. You said that you’ll be fine to assure Abby, but you know you couldn’t be too sure about Yuta. First thing you did was grab a few chips and a can of cat food for Felice. The bedroom was the most secure part of the house so you decided that the best thing to do was to camp in there until the morning comes.

You held Felice close and stroke her soft fur to calm yourself down. She had become your most loyal companion on your path to recovery when you shut yourself from everyone else. She snuggles into your chest and purred lightly, probably sensing your uneasiness.

You used all your willpower to sleep that night but your mind was restless. Even after you stuffed yourself full, drank room temperature milk and fiddled on some fancam videos, you just couldn’t your mind off of Nakamoto Yuta.

The last time that you saw him was when you were crying nonstop at the police station as Abby and Sophie held you in.

Everything played out in your head like a film in cinema.

Na Yuta.

Awesome performer.

Awful person.

(This part may be a trigger to some readers so if you wouldn’t be comfortable reading this, skip to the next ///)

Everyone knew that he’s a player. That’s the first thing that he told you when you met him. It made him look dangerous, something you just need in order to spice out your cookie cutter life. Your parents just went into divorce and your life was going downhill.

He’s just a perfect distraction.

It went well at first, you became his muse. He’d shower you with love and gifts. He made you feel things that you never felt before. That didn’t last very long though.

Not even a year later, fights became a common occurrence. You finally understood how someone can love and hate a person at the same time. As soon as you realized the kind of guy that he is, you couldn’t get out. You made excuses after excuses and still waited for the time that he will change.

He’d go on tours and you would hear stories about him being seen with other women. Plural. Witnesses gave you a different description at every story that you believed it was ridiculous. It’s probably a colleague. Or it was fan and hew was just doing a bit of fanservice. That’s what you believed because that’s what he’d tell you every time you would confront him about it.

At the few times that you did caught him, he’d lie blatantly as if he didn’t just get caught. You couldn’t also count the times that he’d turn the table around and find some guy to link you with. It tricked you into believing that it was your fault that he did it. That he regrets being with you.

You couldn’t also fathom that you cried yourself to sleep because of him. He wouldn’t respond at parties and it would take him days before responding. He made you feel that you are never good enough for him, damaging your self-esteem and confidence in the process. And then he would go full circle and be over the top with surprises and gifts. He starts to go all soft on you and made you weak against his touch and kisses. It’s reminder that only him can make you feel that good, even if he’s also the one who caused you pain.

You also turned your back against everyone. Nobody could contact you for months. It was mostly you, trying to keep your ego intact. You can already hear them mocking you and will remind you that they told you so. He also convinced you that nobody else will love you like he did. The absence of your friends and family made you lonely. It was like they didn’t even miss your presence. And so you clung unto him more.

But everyone has their breaking point. At that point, you’re numbed out. You didn’t even cry as you saw him bringing someone into your own home. It was the wakeup call that you needed to get away from him. You finally realized that you didn’t deserve to be treated like trash and broke things off with him right then and there.

He didn’t like that one bit. He saw you as his possession and no one can take you away from him easily. Yuta started following you around wherever you’ll go and asked you to talk things out with him. He’ll pop in at your office, at the club where you would drink your troubles away, or at any possible location where he knows that you would see him. He was switching back and forth from begging and reminding you the memories you both had into going full psycho and texting you that you’ll regret ever leaving him.

It made you so paranoid that you just flat out refused to go outside at the fear of meeting him. The girls wanted to do something about your condition, and decided that the best thing to get your mind off of things was to surprise you on your birthday.

They brought your favorite food with them and decorated the party with your favorite colors. It was unexpected and you even apologized to everyone for causing them trouble. The night made happy that night and finally be able to smile for the first time in months. All was going well until everyone decided to go outside and take a group photo. Yuta popped out of nowhere and started dragging you away. You were crying and begging him to let you go but he insisted that he needs to talk to you and it wouldn’t take a while.

All hell broke loose. The guys rushed outside to intervene. Sophie’s then boyfriend (now husband), was a big, strong man and was able to grab him by the collar and beat the living crap out of him right in front of you. The sudden violence made you cry harder than earlier. There was nothing that you can do besides watch as everything go down. Both the police and the paramedics came right after and disturbed the whole neighborhood.

That day was still, hands-down, the most awful day of your life. The memory was so horrifying that your birthday is doomed for life. Nobody ever tried to do something for your birthday again, as per your wishes.

You strike yourself as lucky that you don’t have to go to a psychiatrist or drink meds anymore to sleep. Flashbacks make you shake a little bit, but at least that’s manageable. You cannot say the same thing about meeting Yuta once again.

///

“Here’s your stop. I’m sorry I couldn’t drop you off by Y/N’s apartment. The street was small and it would be difficult to turn the van around.”

“It’s totally fine. Walking won’t hurt me.”

Taeyong grabbed his duffel bag and his guitar from the backseat and steps outside the vehicle. He waved at them goodbye before the van went back to the road. He adjusted the straps of his guitar case and duffel bag so he can carry them both comfortably as he begins to walk towards your place.

It was eerily quiet at that time and something just didn’t feel right. He tried to shake the feeling off and increasing his walking pace. It didn’t take long before he can see the building from a distance.

He didn’t know if he was just imagining things but he could’ve sworn that he saw a dark figure lurking in the darkness surrounding your apartment. He muttered a series of curses made a run for it.

///

Your thoughts were interrupted when you thought you heard footsteps coming from outside your house. You were jolted awake and started going into panic. Your heart pounded so much that you can hear it ringing through your ears. You forced yourself to not mind the sound and convinced yourself that you’re just imagining it.

You felt your heart drop as you heard the front door opening and swung slowly. You can definitely hear footsteps just right outside your door. That’s impossible. You locked every single entrance that night. Mind is getting a bit hazy at this point from hyperventilating. Despite this, you grabbed anything that you can get your hands on and decided to face the intruder head on.

You opened your bedroom door just started wielding the thing you are holding at whoever it is that’s outside. You heard a loud thud at the ground and a guy squirming in place.

“Oh shit.”

You quickly realized who it is and threw the blunt object away, now realizing that it’s a tripod. You kneeled down right in front of him and started panicking again. This time, it’s for a whole other reason.

“Oh my god, Taeyong. Are you okay?”

---

#nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct u x reader #nct taeyong #nct fic #lee taeyong #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #rockstar au #journalist au #yuta nakamoto #johnny suh #mark lee #kim doyoung #nctcreations

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

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Habushu

Hey remember when @hiss-and-vinegar came over this weekend to hang out in a room and get drunk with Alastor? Yeah well things got unexpectedly fluffy. They really are doing an enemies-to-friends speedrun.

If the read more doesn't work then I'm sorry but it's not my fault because tumblr did it.

Sir Pentious

Pentious actually ISN'T drunk when he arrives, thank goodness. He slithers in like he owns the place, as one does. Tucked under an arm is an enormous picnic basket, and he's looking very proud of himself.

Alastor

"Right on time!" Alastor says that like they'd actually scheduled a time. He doesn't have an offering of food, but he does have a bottle of bourbon. He half offers it with an apologetic shrug and says, "If you'd warned me sooner that you were bringing food, I would have whipped something up too." Maybe next time.

He twirls a key ring with a single room key around a finger. "Shall we?"

Sir Pentious

Oh nooo dont' tell him that, Alastor. Now he's giving you the MOST smug face that he can muster.

"OH, DEAR, ALASTOR!!! WERE YOU CAUGHT OFF GUARD BY ME??? I SHALL CHERISH THIS VICTORY."

He is. Kidding? He slithers forward, and takes the bottle, before handing off the Very Heavy picnic basket to the stickbug Alastor.

"IF YOU ARE SSSSTILL HUNGRY AFTER THISSS, THEN WE COULD WHIP UP SSSOMETHING TOGETHER, BUT I DOUBT WE WILL HAVE TO."

Alastor

Joke's on Sir Pentious, maybe Alastor likes the smug face. Maybe he wanted Sir Pentious to be smug.

"Perhaps next time you'd cherish homemade snacks a little more?" The stickbug is stronger than his toothpick arms would suggest, but his eyebrows still shoot up a little at the weight of the basket. He supposes extra food WOULD be superfluous, wouldn't it? But he hefts it gamely and gestures toward the stairs. "Second floor, first door on the right."

His hopes soar at the thought of cooking with Sir Pentious. He can probably feign hunger. His stomach's nigh on bottomless.

Sir Pentious

Pentious' tongue flicks at the display of strength. Alastor didn't have the heft of a snake to rely on, so it was indeed impressive.

"I CHERISH THEM ALL THE SSSAME, AFTER ALL, I PREPARED ALMOST EVERYTHING WITHIN THAT PIC-A-NIC BASKET. YOU WILL SURELY BE DAZZLED BY MY TANTALIZING TREATSSS, MY FRIEND."

BOY this snake is in a REALLY GOOD MOOD!!! He begins the ascent up the stairs, zig zagging as snakes must. He knows Vaggie said she was avoiding the lobby, but he hoped to give a little frilly talon wave. Oh well. Door located!

Alastor

"Did you!" He tries to balance the basket on a hip so he can free a hand for opening it as he walks, finds it too heavy for that, and calls up a shadow to help support its weight instead. He's impatient and eager to find out what Sir Pentious's cooking is like.

He and the shadow trail slightly behind Sir Pentious as he tries to dig into the basket, humming distractedly along with his own background music as he does.

Sir Pentious

Inside the basket is...... OH IT'S LOCKED. IT'S ACTUALLY GOT A LOCKING MECHANISM.

Rest in peace, Alastor. No peeksies.

"YESS! APPARENTLY, EVERYONE ISSS ALWAYSSS SSURPRISED TO FIND OUT I CAN COOK. I LIVED BY MYSSSSELF FOR QUITE SSSOME TIME, YOU KNOW."

Alastor

Alastor has the sneaking suspicion that Sir Pentious knows him just a little too well. He tries to think of a way to open the basket, comes up with three, tries to think of a way that DOESN'T involve returning a broken basket to Sir Pentious, and by then they're in the room so it's a moot point.

"You have egg servants," he points out, dropping the basket on the coffee table. "But, point taken! Do I get to see the fruits of your labors now?" He taps a claw on the basket lid.

Sir Pentious

"I HAVE EGG SHAPED SERVANTSS, YESS."

He gives him a look, "BUT THEY ARE NOT VERY GOOD AT WHAT THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO. WORKING WITHOUT SOULS DOESS THAT."

Pentious slithers over to a nearby seat, sitting down on it and coiling his tail up to be out of the way. He can see Alastor being all eager, so he decides to milk that.

"WHY??? ARE YOU GOING TO LOSE YOUR MIND WONDERING WHAT LIESSSS WITHIN, ALASSSSTOR?"

Alastor

"You know, I just might!" He knows full well that the more eagerness he expresses, the more likely Sir Pentious will be to drag out the big reveal for his own sadistic entertainment. But Alastor isn't exactly dying of starvation, and he'd like to see Sir Pentious enjoying himself—so sure, he'll play along a little bit. It isn't like Sir Pentious is going to leave without showing off his food.

The nearest seat to the coffee table is a couch—it's a sizeable hotel room suite, with not just bedroom furniture but also a desk, office chair, armchair in a corner, and then of course the couch and coffee table. Alastor momentarily wavers over whether he should pull over one of the other two chairs, then decides to let his id win this one and plops down on the couch next to Sir Pentious. "I've been wondering since I saw you were bringing something!" he said cheerily. "Why, wondering what you're bringing is half the reason I didn't bring anything myself! I was trying to guess what might compliment your offerings without knowing what they were going to be."

Sir Pentious

Pentious, an enormous King Cobra Demon decorated in eyes looks down at this stick bug, his tongue flicking as he listens to the eager chatter of that frequency mingled voice. Alastor seemed in high spirits, too.... And while Pentious was still upset over what the Radio Demon of his own HELL had done, he could relax here... To a degree.

It was nice, in its own way, to be able to exist next to him again.

"A WISE DECISION," Penny begins, clicking his talons together, "AFTER ALL, OUR ABILITIES ARE INCOMPARABLE! YOUR BOLOGNESE WOULD NOT PAIR WELL WITH MY MODE OF PREPARATION, BUT I DIGRESS."

He slips his sleeve up, revealing a gadget strapped to his wrist. Upon pressing it, the basket pops open. Voila!

Inside, a bottle of brandy mixed with lemonade ("HOT TODDIE" has been scribbled onto a label), a bottle of Japanese spirits with a dead viper inside, a tea kettle, and then also an assortment of sandwiches made with salted meat and fish. Crumpets, jam filled biscuits, and also a plate or two of thinly sliced meat. One does what one can in Hell, and he obtained his ingredients in the Hotel.

Alastor

Alastor immediately pulls the basket over, and is almost just as immediately disappointed. Oh, sandwiches. Sandwiches and charcuterie. Sure, it was food preparation, but it wasn't what Alastor would call cooking.

But it's certainly serviceable. Alastor has gotten his own hopes raised too high, expecting to be wowed—this was about the level of his own Sir Pentious's culinary talents, after all. And who is he to turn down the simple pleasures of unadorned meat? "You know my tastes," he says wryly, snagging a slice. He quickly devours it and then gets to work eagerly pulling goods out of the basket.

He pauses at the bottle of snake booze, his dead heart jolting in his chest. After a moment, he murmurs, "You really know my tastes," and sets it firmly on his side of the coffee table. "Quite a spread! If it wasn't for the booze, I'd think we're having a proper tea party, here." Maybe tea parties do have booze? Alastor doesn't know, he doesn't exactly attend many.

Sir Pentious

All the while that Alastor is looking the items over, Pentious is leaning over to watch, his talons fidgeting nervously. He very clearly cares about the other's opinion, evidently from the look on the snake's face. His brow creased, the corner of his lips pulled down into an inquisitive frown. He was a picky eater, and texture played such an enormous role in what he could and couldn't eat... This followed into the things he'd prepare for himself. It was no wonder he was so thin.

"I PREPARED SSSIMILAR FARE ON MY OUTING WITH VALERA ON THE FIN-DE-SEMAINE PRIOR." AND HE WILL NOT TALK ANYMORE ABOUT WHAT WENT DOWN DURING THAT PICNIC. RIGHT IN FRONT OF THOSE INNOCENT SANDWICHES.

"THE HOT TODDIE WAS WELL RECEIVED! BUT THE HABUSHU ISS NEW. I AM EAGER TO TRY IT! I WONDER IF YOU'LL BE BITTEN BY THE SSSNAKE? HAHA!"

Alastor

"And she has exquisite taste," Alastor says, resisting the urge to cast a pointed glance at Sir Pentious himself. Oh, he knows how sensitive Sir Pentious is to the approval or disapproval of the people he's trying to impress—that's consistent across universes, too. Sir Pentious is not going to hear a word of disappointment and is not going to see anything but a smile.

"Ha—ha-boo-shoe?" That's a new one. "I'm already more than familiar with snake bites," he says, tilting his head to pointedly stretch his neck. He grabs up one of the fish sandwiches and asks, "Have you never gotten any snake alcohol before, then?"

Sir Pentious

Pentious grins devilishly at the reminder of their previous visitation, his fangs in full view. If you want an encore, just ask, Alastor ~

But he leans back on the sofa, waving a hand, "NO, NEVER. PEOPLE DO NOT SSSSEND ME GIFTSSSS. I NEVER HAD A CHANCE TO TAKE A BOAT TO JAPAN, ALTHOUGH I REALLY WANTED TO. THINGS OF JAPONAISE ORIGIN WERE COVETED DURING MY TIME!"

He gestures to the Habushu. "ALTHOUGH IF THERE WERE SSSNAKE ALCOHOL IN LONDON TOWN, NO, I NEVER RECEIVED ANY."

Alastor

Sir Pentious is going to have to tell him he can ask or else he's going to think it's kinda weird. Because he does want an encore.

He makes a mental note about the gift issue. "Oh, is it from Japan?" Alastor gives it another look. Huh. Well, what does he know about Japanese snakes from any other? "I think the kind I came across was Thai. Well—technically it was Hellish, but based on a Thai recipe, I mean."

Sir Pentious

His shoulders bounce as he laughs, snickering behind a hand.

"A HELLISH SERPENT SSSTUFFED INTO A BOTTLE?"

He looks delighted, "WHY, I WASS AN ALCOHOLIC! THAT'SS CLOSE ENOUGH! HHHAAAAA HA HAAAAA!"

DARK HUMOR!

Alastor

Alastor blinks in surprise. "Were you." He gives the bottle an uncomfortable glance, then forces his gaze away. "Ha! I had a decade like that! I've never seen a radio in a bottle, though."

SYMPATHIZING THROUGH DARK HUMOR!

"I suppose in place of a radio you could squeeze in one of those little wireless headphones that are supposed to go up your ear canal," Alastor says, with a slight sneer of distaste. "But I doubt it would do much for the flavor."

Sir Pentious

He grins wide at the shared understanding. WOW THESE OLD MEN. Pentious drags the tips of his claws across his lips, carefully.

"OH, I DON'T KNOW! IF YOU BROKE THEM JUSST RIGHT, MAYBE YOU'D FIND THE TASTE SHOCKING! IT WOULD SSSSPARK A NEW FLAVOR!"

Booooo.

"I HAVE NEVER WORN EAR PIECESSSSS, I DO NOT HAVE EARSSSS LIKE A HUMAN ANYMORE. AND BESIDESSS, I MUCH PREFER THE SSSSOUND THROUGH A GRAMOPHONE. I HAD ACCESS TO ONE OF THE VERY FIRSSST MODELSSS, YOU KNOW! "

Alastor

He's relieved when the conversation moves on without further questions. "Ha! A real jolt to the senses! If nothing else, it would probably improve the ear pieces."

Alastor's eyes light up. (More, anyway.) "Did you?" he asks with relish. "I shouldn't be surprised, early adopter that you are! I just didn't realize they were around in the 1880s. I heard my first in the aughts. I still prefer records myself! Not that I mind headphones, but..." He flicks an ear. "They don't make many models for me, either." A wan smile. "But then it's not a terribly high priority when you can do this." He briefly cranks the volume up on his disembodied background music before letting it settle down to a murmur again.

Sir Pentious

He leans on his hands, upon his coil and. EXCEPTIONALLY close to that grinning radio man. Tongue flick.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE SSSO VERY ENVIOUSSS. IN 1887, EMILE BERLINER CREATED A PROTOTYPE OF WHAT YOU KNOW AS THE GRAMOPHONE!! AND...."

Demonic hungry beast-like grin.

"I THREATENED HIM FOR IT. HE GAVE IT TO ME. I HAD THE ORIGINAL, CRANK OPERATED MODEL!! SSSSUCH INGENUITY. SSSSUCH SSSTYLE."

A frown, "IT'SSSS TOO BAD I DIED THE NEXT YEAR, BUT THESE THINGSSSS HAPPEN."

Alastor

Alastor doesn't budge an inch back as Sir Pentious closes in, focusing the entirety of his attention on that wonderfully wicked grin. His eyes open more and grin stretches wide enough that it threatens to rip his face in two; his studio audience applauds at the conclusion of the story, all parties thoroughly amused. "You—are—RIGHT!" Alastor prods Sir Pentious's chest underneath his eye. "I am envious of you! The prototype, no less! There's being ON the cutting edge, and then there's being the one to sharpen the knife."

Alastor flashes back to where he'd been a year before he died—too bad, indeed—and shrugs. "There's something to be said for dying while king of the hill. No slow descent from the peak into the valley of the shadow of death." The words are still as chipper as he can make them but even to himself his tone rings somewhat hollow. He still misses those years he lost. Half his life unlived.

Sir Pentious

Oh, yes! Listen to that applause. Pentious leans back, placing his claws under his chin as he basks in the praise given to him. What a wonderful feeling, being adored! He purrrrrs, in that Cobra-Snarling Kind of Way. "YESS, NO SSLOW DESCENT AT ALL. I DIED IN AN AIRSHIP EXPLOSION!"

Alastor

"A—an airship explosion!" Alastor played back a couple of soundbites from the Hindenburg disaster broadcast—"it's a terrific crash, ladies and gentlemen"—"oh, the humanity!"—he couldn't help himself. "Well, talk about going out with a bang! Ha! What in the world managed to bring down an airship in 1888?"

Sir Pentious

Oh man, he has no idea what the hell Alastor just played, but it gets an inquisitive look out of the snake anyway. Pentious waves a hand dismissively, and leans over to pick up the bottle of Brandy+Lemonade.

"ENGINE CAUGHT. I WAS TOO HASTY WITH MY PREPARATIONSSS THAT DAY, OR ONE OF MY LABORERS HAD A MISHAP. REGARDLESS, HERE I AM! ALTHOUGH, IT'SSSS RATHER FUNNY... IT DID NOT FEEL LIKE MUCH OF ANYTHING. I RECALL THE HEAT, THE WAY MY SSSKIN WAS TEARING FROM MY LIMBSSSS, BUT THEN BEFORE I COULD THINK TO SSSCREAM, I WAS FLYING MY SHIP THROUGH THE BLOODIED SSSSKIES OF HELL. IT'SSS THE SAME ONE, YOU KNOW. MY AIRSHIP."

Even if he's had to rebuild it.

Alastor

Just a clip of one of the best tragedies Alastor died too soon to enjoy. He lives (so to speak) for opportunities to buy black market broadcast recordings of devastating news in the living world.

So he'd brought HIMSELF down—isn't that typical of most of Sir Pentious's losses? Alastor has to fight the urge to laugh; Sir Pentious wouldn't appreciate the humor.

But this is fast to be hearing about Sir Pentious's death. Especially in such depth. Alastor wonders if he's always this free with the details of his demise, or if Alastor is riding on the legacy of whatever intimacy his alternate had enjoyed with Sir Pentious. Or if Sir Pentious is trying to push through to intimacy as fast as possible before THIS alliance falls through, too.

Because that, Alastor is aware, is certainly what he himself is about to do. "Mine didn't feel like much either. The injuries before the killing blow, sure—but the last one? Just a quick pop on my forehead, and suddenly I'm backstage at a circus with an imp telling me to get out!" He huffs. This is the second time he's told a Sir Pentious about his death. The last time, it took fifteen years—and came less than a day before Alastor permanently broke off their alliance. "But—you brought your entire airship to Hell with you? That's rare! Very rare." And, if Sir Pentious's version of Hell operates on the same principles as Alastor's, means the airship is an extension of his soul. Alastor wonders if Sir Pentious himself knows that—he's run into far too many sinners who don't.

Sir Pentious

It was a toss up of reasons. Pentious found it easier to joke about his own demise, as long as it was him telling the story. It gave him a bit more control over the outcome, and even if he were to end up laughed at, he still chose to tell the tale. But why share it with Alastor? Well... He felt good, lately. It was a peculiar feeling--the snake had a habit of oversharing anyway, and sometimes he didn't catch himself quickly enough. But Alastor wanted to be friends, and, friends are the sort of people who overshare information, right?

At least, that was the impression the Inventor got from online interaction. You couldn't call yourself a friend without having shared strangely private matters of your own life. It was kind of a comfort slip... but as long as attention wasn't brought to the fact he was so open about it, Pentious wouldn't become defensive. He didn't know the ins and outs of friendship, didn't know what this kind of contract allowed or forbid. Maybe he had made an enormous mistake, sharing that much information... but now Alastor was telling him about his own death.

Pentious smirked, that greyish, reddish tongue slipping out between his lips as he listened in variable silence--he made a lot of noise just existing, but as Valera had described, he was like a white noise machine. Once the topic returned to him, Pentious looked a lot more comfortable, "YESSS, I DID! I'VE REBUILT HER UP TWICE NOW... THREE TIMESSS, SSOON TO BE. IT TAKESSS TIME. I HAVE TO BE IN THE RIGHT..." His eyes glance about, and his hood raises, "NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT. LET USSS HAVE A DRINK, SHALL WE, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

Alastor ponders over the missing end of that sentence. Right state of mind? Right mood? He feels like it has to be something like that—and if so, that suggests the ship IS a part of him, if its physical condition is dependent on Sir Pentious's inner condition.

But for now, he'll never mind about that. "Of course! That's what we came for!" He locates a glass and holds it out to be filled from Sir Pentious's bottle.

Sir Pentious

Pentious pours him a glass, careful to not spill it as he does... and then, he pours a glass for himself. The liquid is warm, which was the best way to enjoy this kind of beverage. He lifts his glass to Alastor's, "TO WHAT DO WE CHEERS TO, CHUM?"

Alastor

Chum, what a word. It sounds so... chummy. He considers the question, tossing out several options that are either too sentimental or too impersonal, and taps his glass to Sir Pentious's with, "To your not having to rebuild that blimp a fourth time for a good long while, how about that?" To Sir Pentious's health, both internal and external.

Sir Pentious

Oh ho! Now that's a good toast!

He clinks his glass elegantly against the others.

"YES, RATHER SO! HERE ISS TO THAT ENDEAVOR, HAHAAA!" Aaand he takes a big gulp. Burns all the way down, with a dance of sweet and sour on the tongue.

Alastor

Alastor also takes a deep swig—chokes, swallows hard, and coughs static. "S—sorry." Cough. He wrinkles his nose as he tries not to let the rest of his face twist. "Sweeter than I was expecting." He'd heard "hot toddy" and unthinkingly assumed it was made the same way he'd make one for a sore throat—with whiskey and the absolute minimum amount of honey he could get away with.

Sir Pentious

OH!! WHAT A REACTION! Pentious LAUGHS openly, his hood lifting up!!!

"NYA HA HAAA! LOOK AT YOU-- I FORGOT, YOU DO NOT LIKE THIS KIND OF THING!! NYA HA HAAA!"

Alastor

Alastor sticks out the tip of his tongue—ick—then grabs another sandwich to cover up the taste. (He has to grope a couple of times before his hand lands on one—his eyes are on Sir Pentious as he laughs, not on the coffee table.) He devours a couple of bites before he says, "If you 'forget' again, I'm going to start assuming you're doing it on purpose."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious couldn't look ANY more smug than he already does, and he leans closer to that Sour Faced Deer--even if he was still smiling, Pentious knew he definitely was caught off guard. Small victories. "OH, THAT ISSSS A DISSSSTINCT POSSSSSIBILITY."

Alastor

"I'm going to have my guard up next time," Alastor warns. He takes another small sip from the glass to see whether the sweetness is less shocking when he knows it's coming.

It is—but he's still not going to call it enjoyable.

Sir Pentious

You drink for enjoyment? Pentious prefers to drink to eradicate sensation. He takes a sandwich for himself, as well as a napkin, and leans back to start eating it. Yum yum. The sandwiches are missing their crusts, and the bread is very soft.

Alastor

He's tried to break that habit.

Alastor's not complaining; the less bread, the easier to enjoy the meat by itself. Alastor leans over to try to peer at the sandwich fillings and see if there are any flavors he hasn't tried yet, and grabs another. "So, hot toddy aside—were THESE chosen with my tastes in mind?" He takes a bite and, experimentally, grabs up one of the meat cuts to add on. "Because if they were, I'm flattered."

Sir Pentious

Pentious thinks, a moment, and he shakes his head.

"NO, I DIDN'T REALLY MAKE ANY OF THISSS WITH YOU IN MIND. I JUST WANTED TO BRING SNACKSSS AND BOOZE, SO WE COULD GET "HAMMERED". HAAAHAA!! THISSS ISSS SSTANDARD PICNIC FARE OF MY TIME, ALASSSTOR. YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MISERABLE. NOT A RADIO IN SSSSIGHT. I WONDER IF YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN THE OPERA DEMON."

Alastor

"Well, lucky our tastes line up!" He lifts his glass again—cheers to that—and takes another sip. "... Mostly."

He doesn't have to contemplate the question long. "Probably!" It's something he's actually thought about—in death, being the Radio Demon has felt so correct that he has to wonder if he still would have been the Radio Demon had he died a century earlier, his powers lying latent until the radio receivers to react to them had been invented. Or maybe it was impossible for his soul to have been created until the technology he needed was ready. "I was trying to make it on Broadway before the radio came around. A generation before that, it probably WOULD have been opera. What about you, if you'd been born too early? I expect you would have had to start the Industrial Revolution all by yourself."

Sir Pentious

He snickers, grinning REALLY close to Alastor's head.

"AND YOU KNOW, I WOULD HAVE DONE SO!" He takes another gulp. There's no gentle sips here, "I HAVE AN EYE FOR INVENTION! I COULD NEVER SSSSIT BY AND LET OTHERSSS GET THINGSSSS SSTARTED WITHOUT ME. NO MATTER THE ERA, SHOULD I HAVE BEEN BORN INTO IT, I WOULD HAVE REVOLUTIONIZED IT!!!"

Alastor

Well, don't be shy, Sir Pentious, there's still a couple inches of empty air there.

He's getting tired of gentle sips himself. He opens his bottle of bourbon, drowns what's left of his hot toddy, and takes a deep gulp of the new concoction. Much better. "Oh, I have no doubt! That's what you're made for! You're still doing it now, even!" Alastor sure didn't see anyone else running around with rail guns like the one Sir Pentious has just cooked up.

Sir Pentious

Oooh, a straight swig from the bottle, eh? Pentious flicks his tongue, looking it over, before he puts his glass down and reaches for Alastor's bourbon, "COME NOW, DON'T BE sssSTINGY."

Alastor

"What, do you need to burn out the taste of honey, too?" He passes over the bottle then flops back against the couch cushion, enjoying the familiar burn down his throat.

Sir Pentious

"HARDER TO GET DRUNK OFF OF SOMETHING SSSSO SSWEET." ACtually, it's easier, but he doesn't like the sticky taste of honey so much.

Pentious fills up his glass near to the brim, which means there'd still be a hint of lemon and honey, but not quite as bad. He then takes a direct swig from the bottle and passes it back with a cackle.

Alastor

"Definitely not as enjoyable! I prefer to taste exactly how drunk I'm going to get off my drink." And if that means occasionally feeling like he's drinking paint thinner, so be it.

He takes the bottle back, almost takes a swig, stops, stares at the lip of the bottle as he thinks extremely hard about the implications, and then swigs with even more gusto.

Sir Pentious

Pentious leans over to grab his glass, and sits back slowly, as to not jostle the thing. Several big gulps, you can hear it noisily! OHH that burns. He purrrrrsss, and brings the glass down on the coffee table. Looking even more giddy by the moment.

"YOU KNOW, WE SHOULDN'T GET OURSELVESSSSS TOO DONE IN BY THE BRANDY... THERE ISSS SSSTILL THE SSNAKE BITE THERE."

He gestures to the Habushu, "UNLESSsss YOU HAVE ANOTHER BITE IN MIND!" Pentious, you already made this joke.

Alastor

There's a crackle like two stations trying to interfere with each other and brief garbled voices over Alastor's background music. Okay, all right, Alastor's got just enough booze in him to take the edge off his common sense. And Sir Pentious wouldn't have brought it up twice if he wasn't serious, right? "Are you offering?"

Sir Pentious

Hhhmmmm. He looks over at Alastor, wincing at the sound of crackling radio stations... He taps his grit teeth with a talon, thinking it over, "LET ME HAVE ANOTHER DRINK BEFORE I DECIDE!" Because that's always smart. He takes the bottle back so he can pour himself another glass-- but whatever. He'll just take a gulp or two from the bottle. He sucks in air! Feels great, and also horrible at the same time.

Alastor

Is that a drink to work up his nerve, or a drink to put off a distasteful task? "Up to you," Alastor says, as if it doesn't make the slightest difference to him. He takes up the bottle of habushu—HIS next drink is certainly going to be of the "liquid courage" variety—opens it up, and tastes it a little more cautiously than he did the hot toddy.

Sir Pentious

Unfortunately, Pentious had neither decision on his mind. He was just wanting to drink more--he watched Alastor taste the Habushu... He'd be greeted with a spicy, though definitely Strong taste. The smell was as if cinnamon were dipped into paint thinner. Excellent? The Snake outside of the bottle, wearing a blinking top hat, leans closer to Alastor, somewhat towering over him menacingly, his hood out.

"OR SHOULD WE SAVE THE BITE FOR LASsssT??? I DO NOT WANT TO CUT OUR MEETING SHORT."

Alastor

Tastes good to Alastor. Weird, but good. He drinks a little more.

And suddenly he's being loomed over.

He thinks he's starting to develop a little bit of a taste for being loomed over. Not many people have the courage to attempt a loom on the Radio Demon—and most of those people are boring as hell. A looming Sir Pentious, however, is a promise of an exquisitely interesting afternoon, often in the form of mass carnage and flattened city blocks. (And he looks handsome from this angle, to boot. Very imperious. Very sure of himself.)

"Oh! I can handle a little blood loss and keep going, don't you worry!" He pats Sir Pentious's shoulder reassuringly. "But you're right! Dessert comes after the meal."

Sir Pentious

Pentious only feels comfortable when he can loom over his enemies! Perks of being so long. And he may not have his airship, he's still very big in general. His eyes squint at the shoulder pat, but he sits back, pulling more of his tail up onto the couch. Pleasant rattling sound. While Alastor caresses that bottle, Pentious is going to fetch a few jam filled biscuits out of the basket and munch on them.

He really does look happier, these days. Like his color is more saturated.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious is leaning away, then Alastor is going to... maybe... lean toward. Keep that distance consistent and all. That's a good idea. (The alcohol is definitely kicking in.)

He elbows Sir Pentious and offers the bottle. "The snake booze is pretty good! Makes me regret not trying the other bottle I got. We oughta try the Thai variety some time, you know, for comparison purposes."

Sir Pentious

His neck does a weird accordion thing, but only briefly. Exaggerated movements, though not intentionally, his head swivels a little as he looks Alastor over. Taking the bottle now, and peeking at the viper inside. His tongue flicks and he grins.

"WANTING TO DRINK WITH ME AGAIN IN THE FUTURE, ALASSSTOR? YOUR LADY FRIEND WILL BECOME QUITE ANNOYED WITH OUR VISITSSSS."

Alastor

"Well, sure, the first couple times have gone well enough." There are a confused few seconds during which Alastor tries to figure out which of his lady friends Sir Pentious thinks would be jealous of these meetings; he can't think of anything to say in response except, "You're not worried yours will get annoyed?" And then he figures it out. "Oh—I wouldn't call Vaggie a FRIEND. Coworker at best. Anyway, we could go over to your side of things."

Sir Pentious

Valera always encourages these sorts of meetings, so he's not worried in the least in this case.

The mention of having their visits over on his side makes him think about his own Alastor, and the conversation he had with Valera... Pentious' expression grows a little dark, a red glow seeping into his eyes as he thinks on it.

Alastor

Alastor's watching Sir Pentious closely enough to notice that. He weighs his curiosity against his desire to see Sir Pentious in a good mood, decides that this friendship has been short-lived enough that not maintaining a good mood could ruin his chances completely, and he says, "Vaggie will get used to our spending time over here. Anyway, I don't know what she could do about it!"

Sir Pentious

He's startled out of his own brief intensity, and he leans back on the sofa, resting his head more on Alastor's side.

"MY PLACE COULD WORK, HOWEVER, THERE WOULD BE ANOTHER ONE OF YOU WATCHING USSS, AND CURRENTLY, I AM NOT LOOKING TO SSSSPEND ANY SSSSUCH TIME WHERE HE COULD BE WATCHING ME IN A JOVIAL SSSSTATE."

Alastor

Ah. "Think he'll try to ruin the mood? Maybe kidnap me in the middle and switch us out?" He laughs at the thought, then leans forward to grab—what's left?—another few pieces of meat.

Sir Pentious

That gets a LAUGH out of the old serpent, and he rests his head on his palm, grinning down at Alastor.

"I DOUBT HE'D WANT TO SSSPEND ANY LENGTH OF TIME WITH ME! BESIDESSS, HE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO RESSSIST CALLING ME SIR HAROLD. I WOULD KNOW THE DIFFERENCE IN AN INSSSTANT."

Alastor

"Harold." One corner of his mouth twists. Of all the names to settle on. "You know, I don't get why he wouldn't want to! I don't know why he—well—" He stopped, stumbling over his words as he realized he wasn't exactly heading toward neutral territory. "What it is he... doesn't see in you...r company." Smooth work, Mr. Professional Radio Host. Incredibly subtle.

Sir Pentious

The repeating of the name CLEARLY irritates Pentious, his glare fixating on the other with a snappy hiss sfx. But then he watches Alastor, of all Demons, stumble awkwardly through that mess of a sentence, and he raises a broooow. Huhwha.

Sir Pentious straightens up, polishing his claws on his suit, "YESSS, WELL, CLEARLY, HE IS AFRAID OF BEING SHOWN UP! ONE CANNOT SSSIMPLY BE IN MY PRESENCE WITHOUT THAT HAPPENING! I KNOW HE FEARS SSSSOME ASPECT OF ME, OTHERWISE, WHY WOULD HE BE SSSTAYING AWAY?"

Easier to tell himself that-- it was definitely more likely that Alastor just didn't give two shits about Pentious, and he knew that to be true, too.

His focus is back on the Stickbug.

"BUT YOU KNOW, YOU CLEARLY HAVE A FEW POINTSSSSsss ON HIM! AFTER ALL, YOU CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ME!"

Alastor

Can't get enough of me. He is going to sit forward and he is going to pick up a sandwich and he is going to chew on it a bit and he is definitely not buying time while he screams in his head, and there are certainly not very very quiet terrified howls buried beneath the background music.

Finally, he says, as though he never paused, "Well, OF COURSE! What more interesting company could one keep than a man determined to conquer Hell and capable of independently producing the all the firepower he needs to accomplish that task?! If my duplicate is AFRAID of you, then he must have ambitions I don't! And if he ISN'T afraid, then..." He gropes around for an explanation, then lamely concludes, "then... I guess he's just stupid."

Because he genuinely, genuinely doesn't know what it is that his alternate isn't seeing. He's sifted through enough parallel dimensions and met enough versions of himself to conclude that his sentiments are quite probably unique, and he doesn't know why. He isn't so different from his mirror selves; nor are most of the duplicate serpents he's seen so different from his own. And yet he's the only Radio Demon who's got thorns wrapped between his ribs like this. Why him? What are the other lucky Alastors missing?

Sir Pentious

Pentious is too tipsy to consider the sounds he's hearing in the background music, just watching Alastor idly.

What a way to end that thought! The Cobra laughs, and he holds the bottle of habushu up, beaming with enjoyment. Thoroughly, THOROUGHLY entertained. "I WILL DRINK TO THAT, ALASTOR. HE IS JUST STUPID, INDEED!" And he takes a swig, clearly not bothered by the viper inside. Then again, Cobras do eat smaller snakes primarily. The taste has more kick to it, and he offers it to this rideerculous man.

Alastor

Oh! Success! What a relief. Alastor accepts the bottle—who needs glasses, next time they should start out by passing bottles back and forth, he's loving this—and drinks deeply from it.

Sir Pentious

Don't swallow the snake, Alastor.

Pentious was definitely getting pretty hammered at this rate, though. At least ten minutes later, he's kind of... on the floor, but his tail is up on the couch, as he streeetches and hums to himself. He just looks so relaxed.

Alastor

And as long as they're getting comfortable, Alastor's going to take the opportunity to flop across the couch—and across as much as Sir Pentious's tail as he can get away with. If he DOESN'T swallow the snake, it's not going to be for a lack of trying. He's got the bottle upside-down and his tongue in the bottle, trying to coax the coiled-up corpse toward the opening so he can bite down. It's probably not going to be nearly as delicious as he imagines, but right now he's primarily thinking of the satisfying crunch of the skull.

Sir Pentious

Apparently Pentious doesn't mind Alastor lying on him--either he's too drunk to properly feel it, or he is too drunk to care. Or, the forbidden third option... he doesn't actually mind all that much. It would be hard to tell in this state. He purrs.........

"YOU KNOW, ALASSTOR, I HAVE BEEN 'STRAIGHT UP' MISERABLE FOR THE PASSST ONE HUNDRED YEARSSS! GIVE OR TAKE A DECADE OR SO. WHEN I DIED, I WASS OPTIMISSSTIC IN SSSOME WAYSSS THAT I COULD, WELL, MAKE IT WORK. AND THEN I MET YOU IN THE FORTY YEARSS AFTER THAT, AND IT WASS--WELL IT WASN'T YOU, YOU. BUT WE ALL KNOW HOW THAT WENT!"

He imitates the sound of a blimp crashing and exploding.

"AND, AFTER THAT, I THINK A PART OF ME FINALLY DIED! I HATED EVERYONE, EVERYTHING. I DOUBLED DOWN MY EFFORTSSSsss, AND FIXATED ON MY DESIRESSSsss, BUT I WAS COMPLETELY ALONE! EVEN AFTER HAVING THE EGGSSSSssss CREATED, THEY WERE A POOR SSSUBSSTITUTE FOR CONTACT."

Alastor

There is an actual audible record scratch as the background music finally shuts up. "Oh."

His pleasant buzz has quite abruptly shifted into nausea. He reaches past Sir Pentious to unsteadily set the bottle of Habushu on the coffee table, snake uneaten.

Sir Pentious

"AND YET...!" He continues, "I HAVE BEEN HAPPY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN DECADES.... BECAUSE OF VALERA! SHE ENTERED MY LIFE AND NOW I HAVE DRIVE ONCE MORE... SSSHE EVEN MANAGED TO CONVINCE ME TO GIVE YOU A CHANCE, ALASSSTOR...!"

He's beaming, pressing his hands to his cheeks as he rubs them. Oh no, he's so in love.

"I WENT FROM A BITTER, LONELY, HATEFUL MAN TO HAVING A FRIEND, AND...! A WONDERFUL WOMAN IN MY UNLIFE...!"

Alastor

Alastor stares at the ceiling as his nausea finds a way to twist into horrible new shapes. It should have been him. It could have been—if not for his own goddamn, stupid...

He rubs his face (still smiling? good) and then sits up to try to move from the couch to the floor—wow that's a lot of snake down there. He turns and tries to lift his legs over Sir Pentious's body to swing off the couch, loses his coordination, and falls off the couch to land on his ass on the floor with his legs flung across Sir Pentious's tail. He flings an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulders and declares, "And it shouldn't have taken you HALF that long to get all that—and more! Why, you should never have lost it in the first place." He leans closer to Sir Pentious and says insistently, "But you have it now, and I am TRULY glad that you do." And he is. As much as he desperately, furiously wishes all that could have come from him—he's proven quite conclusively that he's not at all equipped to offer it, so better that Sir Pentious found someone who is. "And you don't know how honored I am to have been given a second chance to be a part of it. Goodness knows I don't deserve it, ha!"

Sir Pentious

The sudden THUD of Alastor falling on the floor definitely startles Pentious enough to open up his hood--but soon he's got the deer next to his head with that arm around his shoulders, and Sir Pentious can't help the little smile that accompanies that. Friend.

"WELL, ALASSSTOR, DO ANY OF US DESERVE SSSssECOND CHANCES?" He was PRETTY drunk, just listen to that slurred speech. "BECAUSE THISSSS IS HELL, I THINK NOT! BUT.... FRANKLY, MY FRIEND, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! WE'VE BEEN DOWN HERE LONG ENOUGH, LET'Ssss GET sssssSOMETHING OUT OF IT!"

And he bumps his head affectionately against Alastor's. Bonk. Probably better not to mention this to him when he's sober.

Alastor

If head-bonking is on the table now, then so is sustained head contact. It's like a bonk that doesn't end. He tilts his head sideways against Sir Pentious's, they're making contact, no take-backs.

"No, no, of course we don't deserve second chances." He laughs ruefully. "But there's the thing: if you don't deserve a second chance, usually that means nobody's going to GIVE you any! Which makes it all the more—all the more... Well, YOU DID! You said just a bit ago that you WERE optimistic—if you ask me—not that you asked me, but I'm telling you anyway—you still are."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious' tongue sticks out in the most ridiculous way as he practically beams. What a smile. It's like a large C trying to take over his entire face.

"OHH, DON'T INssssSULT ME~" he waves a hand.... "OPTIMISSSTIC.... SSUCH A FAR FETCHED IDEA! AND YET.... IT DOESN'T ALL FEEL SSSO POINTLESS, NOW."

He purrrrrrs. It's a cobra sound, deep and raspy, but the growling is curled enough to sound content. It's not a friendly sound if you're used to cats, but at least he wasn't about to bite.

"ARE YOU OPTIMISSSTIC, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

Pressed as close to Sir Pentious as he is, Alastor can practically feel him smiling without having to turn and look at it. He can DEFINITELY feel that raspy purr—even as calm as Sir Pentious is, there's an edge of something dangerous to the sound. (It reminds him of fangs sinking into his throat.) Alastor is sure the reason he feels a little light-headed is because of the alcohol.

"It's not an insult!" Alastor lays his free hand dramatically on his chest as if he's offended at the mere suggestion; then pauses and amends himself: "It would be an insult toward anyone else. But YOU wear it well!" He pauses again and amends himself again: "Wore it well. Anyway—no. I'm not. Not sure if I ever was one, but I'm even less of one now."

Sir Pentious

Alastor often talked so much, most of his commentary or idle prattle was just background noise.

Sir Pentious looks to the other--but since their heads are together, it's more like a nuzzle. Nuzzle nuzzle........

"AND WHAT WOULD HELP YOU BECOME MORE OPTIMISSSTIC? YOU'VE ALWAYSSSS BEEN A MYSSSTERY TO ME, ALASTOR."

Alastor

Ah, every radio host's greatest fear: to be switched on and left ignored in the corner, nothing but idle noise for a busy listener to hear but tune out.

Alastor 100% mistakes the gesture for a nuzzle and returns it eagerly. How did he get this lucky this fast?

"I—huh." He doesn't think "you" would make a very good answer. "Optimism is hard to come by in Hell."

Sir Pentious

Luckily, Sir Pentious is too hammered to question it, although he does make a face.

"DID.... YOU CHANGE YOUR HAIR?"

Yep. He's only just noticed now.

Alastor

He's too hammered to realize Sir Pentious really should have noticed sooner. "Oh! Yes!" He leans away slightly so he can turn toward Sir Pentious and point at his hair. (He's not letting go of Sir Pentious's shoulders, though.) "This is how I usually—well, I guess I can't say 'usually' anymore—how I used to wear it! How I prefer it. Do you like it?"

Sir Pentious

He has to focus his eyes a little, giving him a once over..... Hmmmmm.

"I'M NOT USED TO IT, THE RED SUITS YOU MUCH BETTER!" Or rather, Sir Pentious prefers it, "THIS STYLE DOES MAKE YOU LOOK YOUNGER...."

Alastor

His ears droop slightly, but it doesn't touch his tone as he says, "Well—don't you worry, I'm sure the red will be back soon enough! I never can manage to maintain this look." He wonders if "younger" is good or bad.

Sir Pentious

"WELL IT ISN'T BAD, I JUST DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE WITH IT. WE ONLY MET IN DEATH." Sir Pentious attempts to clarify, his tail slithering off the couch and.... FLOPPING on top of Alastor's body. Trapped.

Alastor

Trapped... or embraced??

"Fair enough. I'm not going to pretend I didn't act differently back when I looked like this than I do now!" He leans a little more heavily on Sir Pentious for a moment, "And I suppose I'd have to adjust if you showed up one day with a curtain of black hair instead of a hood."

He drops his free hand on top of Sir Pentious's tail. NOW who's trapped? "... Do you miss your body?"

Sir Pentious

Oh yes, definitely, it is Sir Pentious who is trapped. A prisoner of the deer.

The question gives him pause, and he thinks... Does he remember it well? Does he miss it?

"NO. NOT PARTICULARLY. I WAS A THIN, FRAIL SORT OF MAN. UNREMARKABLE. AT LEAST UNTIL I FINALLY BEGAN MY TERRORIZING OF LONDON, THAT IS."

He grins, "DANDY SUITSSS AND WHAT NOT. BUT, I SAY, I'M MUCH MORE RECOGNIZABLE LIKE THIS. I HAVE MORE PRESENCE THAN EVER BEFORE. LEGS ARE A HASSLE."

Maybe he can't waltz anymore, but it's not like he ever enjoyed those fancy parties.

Alastor

"Isn't everyone unremarkable until they find something to start terrorizing?" Alastor doesn't find many people remarkable, anyway. "Snakeskin suits you. I've SEEN pictures of you—other you—but I'm sure if I was asked to try to describe what you'd looked like, I'd describe you as a cobra first and then try to explain what's different."

Sir Pentious

"OH, HAVE YOU SEEN PICTURES OF ME?" Big. Big pupils. They're huge like kitten eyes as he looks at Alastor.

"RIGHT, BECAUSE OF YOUR HISTORY WITH THE SERPENT OF YOUR HELL..."

He flops his head back down, "FOR A MOMENT, I THOUGHT YOU'D HEARD OF ME FROM THE LIVING WORLD, BUT, AMERICANS LIKELY DON'T CONCERN THEMSELVES MUCH WITH THE ENGLISH ANYMORE."

Alastor

Oh, hold on, give Alastor a moment to stare into those eyes. Okay. He's good.

"Sure, I'd heard of you in the living world! Why, we covered you in history class! Early films showed who the top bad guy was by giving him long black hair."

Sir Pentious

what. WHAT

In a FLASH, Sir Pentious pinned Alastor to the floor, face mere inches from his.

"YOU'VE HEARD OF ME?? YOU WERE TAUGHT OF ME?? I MADE SSSSSOME KIND OF AN IMPACT???!!! DETAILSSSSS, MAN!"

Alastor

"I—sure, of course you made an impact! You invented air combat a generation before anyone else figured out how to get off the ground, how could you NOT make an impact?" How could HE think he hadn't made an impact?

Sir Pentious

He's. Staring.

Alastor

Alastor's staring back. He's really digging all this soulful eye contact.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious had just found out, after decades, that he'd ACTUALLY made an impact--nobody had ever known who he was, even soon after his death.

Apparently the Jack the Ripper murders were far more enticing than Pentious blowing up the Savoy.

Alastor

Sir Pentious is still staring. Alastor should probably give him a little more than that to go on. "They named an entire chapter in our history textbook after you. 'The Serpentine Decade.' Between Reconstruction and the Gilded... Do... do people not know who you are in your version of things?"

Sir Pentious

Oh no.

He's known? In a different variation of the world?

Pentious sits back, staring wide eyed into the middle distance...

"EVERY TIME I INQUIRED, NO ONE... NO ONE KNEW WHO I WAS. IT WAS AS IF MY DEEDS WERE COMPLETELY UNHEARD OF."

Alastor

Alastor watches his face closely, trying to figure out what he's thinking. Considering Alastor's own vision is a little blurry at the moment, he can't quite make it out. "Well—rest assured, as long as you're over here, there will be no one who's died in over a hundred years who doesn't know your name."

Probably a hyperbole—surely SOMEONE hadn't been taught their history properly—but certainly Sir Pentious himself was unlikely to run into anybody who didn't know.

Whether they still took him seriously after a few years dead and watching the reigning overlords sneer at the old supervillain's airships was quite another question, but Sir Pentious didn't need to know that.

Sir Pentious

He places his talons together, scratching at his gloves. Oh... This was such an amazing situation.

As long as he's here, EVERYONE knows who he is, historically speaking. But. Well.

Not the same Sir Pentious. The serpent suddenly felt envy flare inside of him, but he shook his head. No, no. Dwell on that later......

...... He looks back at Alastor, "WAIT. AREN'T YOU AMERICAN? WHY WERE YOU STUDYING ME?"

While his father was an immigrant, it didn't really make sense to him that that would do it.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious has to ask, then his history really IS different. Alastor fears that this little cross-dimensional compare-and-contrast is going to leave Sir Pentious not with the lesson "I'm remembered somewhere," but "a different version of me was more successful than I am." In the back of his mind, Alastor starts figuring out what he'll say if that happens.

"Over here, you decided to hop overseas before beginning your rampage. You were the absolute bane of the east coast. You made a far bigger impact on us than you did on England."

Sir Pentious

Well, that answers that! He smirks, looking devilish. "NYA HA HAAAAAAA! DID I FLY OVER? CAUGHT YOU ALL BY SSSSURPRISE, DID I? HOW ENTERTAINING! YOU KNOW, I SHOULD HAVE MOVED TO AMERICA WHEN MY WIFE LEFT ME... A NEW SSTART WOULD HAVE DONE ME SSOME GOOD."

He stares kind of. Hollowly at his hands. Instead, he'd lost several years of his life to addiction and insanity. And any chance of meeting his son.

"I WANTED TO BE RECOGNIZED--I KNEW I WAS BRILLIANT, BUT THOSE BASSSTARDSSSS REFUSED TO SSSEE IT. I MADE THEM SSSEE JUSST WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF, EVEN IF IT COSSSST ME EVERYTHING."

Alastor

Alastor's not sure when his own Sir Pentious's wife left him—maybe it HAD been before he started his rampage? Certainly a wife had never been mentioned in any of the biographical materials Alastor had seen on Sir Pentious.

"I don't see how anyone could refuse to see it now," Alastor says dryly. "Unless it's out of sheer, stubborn spite! But if so, that says more about THEM than you, doesn't it?"

Sir Pentious

He lies down directly on Alastor. Yep. Crushing him.

"YES, BUT THEY ARE VERY LOUD, AND I AM TIRED....."

Alastor

Oh. Oh this is... this sure is something that only happened once, right before Alastor ruined everything.

Not this time. This time he's getting it right.

He slides his arms around Sir Pentious's back and holds him tight. "I'm louder." A dozen voices buzz like locusts under Alastor's words.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious' eyes widened, but... He didn't sit up in an offended rage. Instead, he processed what was going on slowly....

He was being embraced by his old friend. Alastor, from a version of events that seemed better off. The old inventor didn't move, but he didn't hiss either. He just breathed deeply.

"I KNOW YOU ARE, MY FRIEND."

Alastor

My friend. Alastor can hardly believe how good that feels to hear. To have this heavy weight on him, proving that this is all real. He lets his eyes slide shut, taking the rare opportunity to bask in the tactile sensations. "So if you ever need someone to drown them out... you know the frequencies you can reach me on, pal."

#((in a few hours Alastor wakes up with a hangover and a snake and goes 'if I don't move I can stay like this for a year right'))#hissandvinegar #chat log

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trishyeves · 4 years ago

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Episode 4-Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Oh boy, we are back into the Ranma Rewatch and this time it’s the fourth episode, titled “Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another”. That is definitely the kind of title I remember more from this show: incredibly long and silly. I love it in any series where the titles are like half-formed sentences. As for what I’m expecting in this episode...I honestly don’t really remember. We’re already reaching the edges of my memory, so I look forward to seeing it with fresh eyes.

Yeah, I had pretty much forgotten about most of the stuff that happened in this episode, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The episode starts with Ranma having a bad dream about Kuno professing his love and asking him out. After waking up in a cold sweat, Ranma takes a bath and shenanigans happen.

There’s some cute banter between Ranma and Akane on the way to school, then a threepeat of the fight against all the guys trying to ask her out. Kuno makes an appearance at the end again, but this time he’d taken out in one combined hit from both Ranma and Akane. He’s tended to in the nurse’s office afterwards by Nabiki, who finds out from his sleep talking that he’s fallen in love with ‘the pigtailed girl’ in addition to Akane, and feels conflicted over who he should choose.

Seeing an opportunity, Nabiki abuses the fact that apparently Ranma is a heavy sleeper to activate his curse as he sleeps, takes a bunch of sexy pics, then turns him back, all without him ever waking up. Not too long later, she gets a surprise message from Kuno, asking to meet up.

He treats her to a meal, asking her the favor of delivering a cute doll he got as a present to its recipient: the pigtailed girl. Before addressing that idea, Nabiki tempts him with the sexy pictures of his new waifu, only letting him even see them if Kuno treats her to spaghetti. I thought that might be a dub change, but it’s not, either language they still go out for Italian pasta. She sells them to him for 1000 yen a pop, then asks if he’s giving up on Akane then. He clarifies that he intends to pursue them both, so Nabiki reveals there are Akane pictures available too. In exchange for free ice cream, and the same price per picture, she sells him those too.

Only with that done does she tell him how to get his present to the pigtailed girl: Ranma is the only way. She doesn’t explain why, but Kuno doesn’t dig too deeply into it. She couriers a letter to the titular protagonist, asking for a meet up, which Ranma goes to. Once it becomes clear exactly what Kuno is asking for, Ranma rebuffs him, saying he’ll never see his precious pigtailed girl ever again.

This threat becomes somewhat toothless when someone randomly dumping water out of their window activates Ranma’s curse, and Kuno quickly embraces the object of his affections. This hug becomes a little awkward when Nabiki appears and douses Ranma with hot water, and Kuno realizes who he is ‘now’ hugging. You might think this would mean he has some understanding of what’s going on, but Kuno’s immediate thought is that Ranma knows some vile sorcery.

When Nabiki realizes how dense Kuno really is, she decides to phrase it to him as Ranma ‘owning the pigtailed girl’s body and soul’, which is not technically a lie. That said, of course Kuno interprets that as meaning that somehow Ranma has the warrior woman he loves enslaved to him in some way, so a fight breaks out.

When Ranma sees the photos Kuno has on him, it distracts him enough to take a hit to the torso, just as Akane arrives. Just as Kuno starts getting serious, the air pressure from his piercing attacks alone strong enough to crack a statue apart, Ranma counteracts and wins, though it becomes clear his injury hurts like hell, even if he’s trying to ignore it.

And that’s it, no cliffhangers this time around. Now that Kuno’s love for Ranma’s alter ego has been established, the actual meat of what that means, namely how he sees them as two separate people and chases one while attacking the other, is what this episode works to make clear. It also sets up his and Nabiki’s dynamic more, but that’ll be something I talk about more in just a little bit.

There are two kind-of bigger things I want to pull out of this episode. First one being the dream sequence at the start. Now, I am fairly sure that whole bit is meant to be there for comedy, in a very ‘gay panic’ kind of way. Which honestly...does not play super well these days. Ranma’s terror at the dream, on a surface reading, has to do with him being super grossed out that some dude is in love with him.

Of course, there are other ways to read the scene as well. I’m sure some people might instead look at it as being less a nightmare and more like Ranma running away from his own possible attraction to another guy, and while that’s definitely possible, I didn’t really get that vibe at all. That said, if you did, rock on.

What I saw as more likely was a gender-based reading. Ranma is, more than anything else, freaked out by Kuno’s love declaration because it’s someone seeing him as something he’s not, a woman. Kuno isn’t interested in Ranma, he’s interested in a woman who doesn’t exist. Ranma has a lot of complicated feelings tied up in his masculinity, which his curse doesn’t exactly help with, and Kuno’s attraction to his cursed form just makes it all worse.

Speaking of attraction, let’s talk about Kuno. The fact that everyone calls his affections for two people at the same time ‘two timing’ is a bit vexing to me. As someone who has been in polyamorous relationships before, I can attest to the fact that liking more than one person at a time is totally okay, and if everyone involved is okay with it, dating multiple people is also okay.

That is kind of the problem though. Neither Akane or Ranma like Kuno, and neither is likely to want to date him, regardless of if he’s dating someone else at the time. Their problem with Kuno isn’t his dual attraction, it’s that they just plain don’t care for the guy. (And Ranma probably doesn’t swing that way, but he could be repressing it so what the hell do I know.) Even with that in mind, I still kind of roll my eyes at how Kuno ‘liking two girls’ is treated as a perversion. That just kinda sucks.

Last thing before the character spotlight I can think of is that I really liked the fight in this episode, the action was pretty good. ... Listen, I know that’s not exactly expert analysis, but it’s what I got.

I feel like covering Nabiki now is pretty much a no brainer. Of all the side characters introduced so far, she’s easily gotten the most shading, and this episode in particular develops her further for the audience. In terms of voice acting, she’s played in English by Angel Costain and in Japanese by Minami Takayama. Angela isn’t known for much else, which is quite a shame, because she’s pretty fantastic, in my personal opinion. Minami, on the other hand, has a pretty huge resume, and along with the voice actors for Akane, Ranma’s cursed form, Kasumi, and a character we haven’t met yet, was in a pop group called DoCo.

In terms of acting, they both play her fairly similarly. A normal girl at first glance, but with quite the amount of dry wit and sarcasm lying beneath that surface. The main difference I’ve seen so far is that Angela seems to have more mirth to her performance, while Minami’s is a bit more deadpan. Both are good, though I definitely prefer the english performance so far.

But what is Nabiki actually like? Well, of the three Tendo siblings, Nabiki hides who she is more than the others. For the first few episodes, she comes across as a fairly unassuming character, most known for her occasional snark. But this episode is where we get to see her primary character trait: greed. Nabiki is quite happy to take advantage of Ranma’s curse to make money, though how far she’s willing to go for the yen hasn’t really been made clear.

It is worth noting that, while her pictures of Ranma were very sexy and revealing, her pictures of Akane were just of her working out and stuff, far less of an invasion of her sister’s privacy. Does she have better respect for family than the freeloaders who live with them? That’s to be seen.

Another big character trait we’ve gotten so far is her...friendship? Sure, let’s go with that, her friendship with Kuno. Always happy to try and pop his inflated ego with her sharp wit, they have a good comedy routine going. At the same time, she does seem to legitimately be there for him, since she was taking care of him after he got knocked out. They get shipped a lot, which I definitely see the appeal of, but part of me just kind of likes the idea that they’ve just known each other for a long time, and they just kind of have a thing going. Not that any kind of friendship they may have is coming close to stopping her from bilking him from as much money and free food as she can. Of course, Kuno is quite rich, so he can afford it.

Some people have described Nabiki as a villain, but I wouldn’t really agree with that. What she is, is someone happy to create conflict. She’s a fun addition to the cast, and I can’t think of any time in my previous watch-throughs where I got tired of her being there. (Which is not something I can say about every character in this series.)

Now it’s time to rank the episodes once again. Of the four episodes so far, I can immediately say this one is in the top half. I enjoyed Nabiki’s antics and the marital arts quite a bit, but I don’t think it’s quite as strong as the second episode. So far, that means the rankings are:

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

Will next week’s episode be just as entertaining? Well, I don’t know, but from what I remember about episode 5, “Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart”, I don’t think that will be the case. See you then!

#episode 4 #Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing It’s Another #ranma 1/2 #ranma saotome #akane tendo #nabiki tendo #tatewaki kuno #anime analysis #anime rewatch

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ranma-rewatch · 4 years ago

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Episode 4-Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another Episode 1: Here’s Ranma Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

#episode 4 #Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing It’s Another #ranma 1/2 #ranma saotome #akane tendo #nabiki tendo #tatewaki kuno #anime analysis #anime rewatch

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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years ago

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Unforgettable-Chapter Four

Previous chapters on AO3 A special thanks to @statell for all your help

Chapter Four

Claire pulled her mascara wand out and it was dry. Damn she thought, I don’t suppose there’s anywhere to buy makeup around here. She threw it in the waste container and dabbed on some lip gloss. The laptop was set up on her small table and she dialed the number with shaking fingers. She sent Jamie a text early in the week asking to Skype on Friday night. She wondered how he would get away from what’s-her-name, but he agreed so she didn’t care.

Her laptop flickered a couple of times and then he was there, smiling at her like she was right in front of him.

“God made eyes that color for one person only Sassenach.”

“Who?”

“Ye of course. How is it going over there? Is the hospital in a safe zone?”

“Sometimes. The second night I was here we had casualties from a raid nearby. Quite an initiation.”

“What kind of work are ye doin there, do ye like it?”

They stared at each other and their mouths moved but the action was happening in the heart. Jamie felt himself slipping back under her spell and Claire wanted to tell him about all the feelings, wars, doubt, and capitulation she was going through. They kept the conversation light.

“How can you be so far from the laptop and I can still see you clearly?

“I use my smart TV, and you are life-size as I watch ye.”

“Wow, that is awesome. Tell me about Edinburgh.”

And so it went, the benign conversation of two people in love that were not willing to expose themselves to the other. They would both feel the immediate vacuum sucking them out of the happy zone the minute Skype was closed.

They talked every week on Friday, afternoon for Claire, evening for Jamie. A package arrived for Claire and she ran to her room to open the box, so thrilled because it could only be Jamie who sent it. She pulled out a state-of-the-art laptop with a seventeen-inch screen and an exceptional camera. It was loaded with trending software and numerous picture files of his football team, Lallybroch, his camping trips, the fish he caught and the amazing sunsets from the top of the world. The card was handwritten; For the Sassenach, to remind ye of civilization and Scotland. I hope it makes ye happy. Claire hugged the card to her chest and rolled her eyes when someone knocked on her door.

“Claire! Let us in!”

Joe grew impatient and Claire finally opened the door to both of them. Kevin’s eyes lit up when he saw the new technology and he rushed to the laptop to investigate.

“It’s just lovely, I think Jamie is more than a friend all of a sudden.”

“No, it’s a friend present, nothing more. He is getting married, remember.”

“What, so he’s gonna Skype with you all the way to the alter?”

“Something like that.”

“Hey, he set up a gmail for you and sent a message.”

“Really? Claire rushed to the laptop to read it.”

Sassenach, I dinna ken yer email and I dinna like to wait. Send me a picture of the jungle! JF

Someone was knocking on the door but this time she could hear the urgency and pulled the door open.

“Report to OR on the double, Doctor Anderson is waiting.”

Cutter had already completed ten hours of surgery today, and so had she. She closed the door behind her and ran to the surgical wing. For the next two hours, she, Cutter, and another nurse worked hard to save a young man who came in with a meat hook stuck in his abdomen. Claire was clamping blood vessels as she found them, her arms deep in the abdomen, hands, and forearms covered in blood as they raced to stem the bleeding from multiple ruptured vessels. She and Cutter on opposite sides of the table, both suturing tissue as fast as they could.

Claire was the last to leave the OR and she was exhausted as she pushed into the scrub room and pulled her gown and gloves off. She held onto the scrub sink like she could collapse any moment and closed her eyes with the water running in front of her. The room was dimly lit, and she washed quickly so she could collapse in her Lazy Boy.

Joe’s phone had a high megapixel camera and he was quite good at using it. The close-ups he took of Claire, her eyes tired and grim, as she leaned over the washbasin on her forearms. Asleep in the Lazy Boy with her hand on Luna, surrounded by villagers, all needing something, were telling the story of Claire’s existence in this place.

Kevin joined the cause and had a folder full of Claire in action. Cutter was recruited to catch Claire with her two favorite men, Joe and Kevin, goofing off and teasing each other.

Joe recognized the signs of a man in love and sent Jamie the photos from Claire’s new laptop while she was working.

Claire pulled her new laptop closer and dialed Jamie. His face looked different, contemplative, and Claire’s heart rate shot up making her feel weak. He’s going to tell me he’s getting married she thought. Her instincts were shouting for her to disconnect. When you don’t want to hear something, don’t listen. She stared at him with wide eyes and he stared back.

“What is it Jamie, you look different.”

“Sassenach, I dinna have words to describe what your pictures showed me.”

“What?”

“Ye are the bravest lass I’ve ever known and the strongest. I had no idea what life was really like there. I am in awe of ye lass.”

“So far, you have not made a lick of sense Jamie. I didn’t send pictures to you. What are you talking about?”

“Well, someone did it for ye. They were in my email yesterday.”

Claire grabbed her phone and checked the sent emails, there were numerous emails to Jamie with picture attachments. Claire opened them and flipped through the pics with mounting concern.

“Jesus Christ, I wasn’t aware these were being taken, or sent. I’m sorry Jamie. My friend Joe had a very bad idea. I was not aware.”

Jamie leaned closer to the camera, “this is the real you as ye go through the day. I have an accurate account of the struggles ye face. Your work in the OR, yer haunted eyes when yer about to collapse and those two guys who hang on each other and make ye laugh. It’s incredible what I’ve learned about ye with these pictures. Yer amazing Sassenach.”

Jamie’s comments broke through her fantasy of killing all who conspired in this clandestine photo shoot. She heard compassion, pride, and love in Jamie’s voice. She looked up at the camera again and suddenly felt overwhelmed with love for the guys and appreciation for Jamie’s reaction.

“Ye dinna ken how special ye are, or how much ye deserve the best life. I…I will be happy to know ye finally get it, Claire. I feel emotionally invested somehow, please agree to be my video friend or pen pal for life. I’ll always wonder if ye don’t.”

Claire was surprised at Jamie’s reaction and she tried to rally her friend-face, control her expressions, and maintain composure in front of the camera. She looked into his eyes and wanted to shout at him that she was more than a friend. Jamie’s words were hitting her like bullets because he was now an observer trying to help her somehow, not harboring his own crush. At that moment she subconsciously jettisoned away from him, to the place she had been since the video calls started. In a box of his acquaintances he would remember from time to time.

Jamie continued to sing her praises and Claire did her best to cover the disappointment and hurt from misunderstanding his interest. She tried to rally but finally begged off with an excuse to feed the baby.

“Until next week Sassenach, take care of yourself.”

Claire slammed the lid on the laptop, “like you’re my psychiatrist or something? No thanks, I’ll be my own support thank you. If this is your entertainment to share with miss perfect, you will have to find something on television from now on. I am out.”

When Jamie saw the blood drain from Claire’s face, he knew she was completely in the dark about the pictures. That made it even more real for him and he silently thanked Joe for letting him into their world. No wonder she couldn’t settle in Edinburgh, it would be like putting a gorgeous butterfly in a jar, to slowly die from the lack of flight. He was deeply troubled that he had touched a dream girl, his dream girl, and the world had no equal.

The door opened and he looked at Geneva, here for a night of cat and mouse, and he was the mouse. He took a deep breath and suddenly wanted to be in a meadow, full of fish, where he could spend time with his memory of Claire and say his truth.

Jamie rose from the couch and kissed Geneva, promising a five-minute shower before they left. But the whole time, he was missing the girl who danced with a fish in his kitchen.

Claire looked at Joe with a laser sight on his fertile brain and fantasies of torture danced in her head. Joe retreated and disappeared before she got to him. She would have followed him, but she was pulled away by an unexpected visit from Luna’s mother.

Claire felt her tears drop onto her shoulders making her scrubs wet. She was always afraid this day would come, her miracle baby leaving with her biological mother. She pulled the baby to her and kissed her cheeks, repeatedly. She assembled multiple bags packed with food, diapers, blankets, and supplements that would sustain her. She would send her away and never know what happened to her and that was breaking her heart. Cutter pushed into the nursery and looked at Claire with compassion.

“Let me take her Claire. Kiss her one more time, then give her to me, he said quietly.”

Luna held Claire’s hair and yanked it trying to get her mother’s attention, the only mother her infant life knew. In her limited world, one face had always been there to give love and smiles and food. Claire broke down and Cutter pulled the sweet baby from her, pulled the bags of supplies onto his shoulder, and then left.

Claire sank into the Lazy Boy arms wrapped around her stomach and cried like she was mortally wounded. She bent over and her tears puddled on the linoleum floor. Her heart was breaking and there was no comfort to be had, just misery, her miracle baby was gone forever.

Claire laid curled up in the Lazy Boy and wondered how much grief one person could take in a day. “UNCLE”, she whispered, “no more for today.” The room grew darker as the sun set, and Claire remained until the door opened and a hand pulled her into the lighted hallway making her squint painfully. The hand pulled her forward and outside where it was easier to open her eyes.

Claire looked at the picnic table with a lantern on it and looked up at Cutter.

“What’s this?”

“A request from Joe, to get you talking and forgiving before you end his life for the pictures.”

He pushed her onto a bench and sat across from her with his hands folded on the table.

“Shall we begin, I rather like Joe, so let’s figure this out together.”

Cutter smiled and waited patiently.

“What? Um, I was mad at him for sending the pictures to Jamie. It was a sweet gesture, but it brought out Jamie’s true feelings for me and I was mad about that. I have the right to punish Joe because he’s my best friend.”

“What true feelings did Jamie reveal?”

“He wants to be pen pals, or video pals, so he will know when I find happiness. He doesn’t want to wonder about me for the rest of his life.”

“Jesus Claire, you had to let go of Luna right after that?”

“She wanted and needed my attention as I got her ready, but I couldn’t stop crying. I miss her so much already and I will never know what happened to her. I can’t take not knowing, Cutter.”

She stopped abruptly and looked up at her friend. The comparison of the two statements sinking into her brain. Her eyes got wide as she compared Jamie’s statement to her own. She loved Luna with her heart and soul, and it broke her heart realizing she will never know how she was. Could Jamie feel the same about her? She stared straight ahead and climbed out of the picnic table. She patted Cutter on the shoulder but missed and patted his face as she left.

“What about Joe? Can he come out of hiding now?”

“Mission accomplished soldier, he’s safe.”

Claire had a strange look on her face, but it wasn’t sorrow that Cutter saw, it was more like she just figured out the double-helix of DNA. Something wondrous.

Claire laid on her bed for the first time in four months and sighed deeply. Whatever Jamie felt for her, was big, that she was certain of. She will keep Skyping on Friday nights and maybe send an email occasionally if there was something exceptional or interesting that happened.

Jamie climbed in a thickly wooded area with a punishing pitch, feeling strong and healthy, as long as he didn’t start thinking. The woods were healing him of the past months of partying, drinking to excess, dealing with Geneva the shape-shifter, and his little Claire showing her heart and comfort to him. Breathing deeply in the crisp mountain air he felt capable of anything. Later in the afternoon, he laid back in the sun to rest. Winter was well on its way and pushing through his comfort limits, so this would be his last trip for a while. He would miss his time out here in nature. He paid dearly for it with Geneva but he didn’t care, it was bringing him back to who he really was.

Claire sat down next to Joe and across from Cutter at dinner. They had been in this medical camp for nine months, she could hardly believe it. The guys were displaying an air of excitement and fist-bumping Joe, well, Kevin was giving cheek kisses and Cutter did the bumping.

“Wow, I’ll bite, what is all the excitement about?”

“Jamie entered one of my pictures of you in a competition, and I won!” Joe was laughing. “Something Apple was doing to promote the camera in the new iPhone. Pretty cool, ha, and I get ten grand for first place!!”

“Jamie did that for you? Interesting. Whatever would make him even think of such a thing?”

Claire stared at Joe, letting him know she would not look away until he explained himself. She was making him antsy and nervous so this would not take long.

Joe sighed and told Claire about the photo lab tech who blew the picture up for Jamie asking all kinds of questions about the camera.

“He called me, told the lab tech it was an iPhone camera, tech said put the picture in the contest, he did, I won, and that’s about it.”

Claire picked up her tray and stood up, “Imagine that.”

The three men gaped at her as she walked away. They didn’t know what to expect from her, but it wasn’t that.

Claire smiled inside wondering how Jamie and Joe became telephone buddies. She was the common denominator and that’s all that mattered to her. She wiped the sweat off her face about to say goodnight to the guys when she thought of some cool relief.

“Cutter, remember that swimming pool I jumped in and you morphed into the incredible hulk?” What was that place?”

“Cutter looked around the room thinking about honesty versus a good night’s sleep for her. “It was my overreacting is all. I thought it was something different.”

“I do believe that is first time you have lied to me Cutter. I’ll ask again, what was that place, and…be honest.”

“It’s a rebel stronghold Claire. The attack on the villagers when you first got here, was perpetrated by that group.”

Claire’s eyes went wide, and her voice panicked, “they’re right here in our backyard? Jesus Christ, it’s no more than a few miles from here! If I had been caught in that pool they would have killed me, wouldn’t they?”

“Drop it pea,” he growled. “That’s enough on the subject.”

Cutter left the table cursing himself for telling her, thankful he left out the torturous death of women prisoners. They would have made it last before she drew her last breath and he would be dead trying to protect her.

Claire stared straight ahead, trying to wrap her head around their proximity to the enemy. She shivered with a full understanding of Cutter’s reaction that day.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered.

Joe had heard things, from the villagers, delivery drivers, and the news when they could get it. He had already put in a request to get them out of there. It was first come first serve and everyone was bugging out of Honduras. He intended to talk to Claire and Kevin tonight about leaving their post before replacements came. It was feeling creepy around here and his instincts were screaming it was time to go.

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likesomekindofcheese · 5 years ago

Text

When I’m With You (Ben Hanscom x fem! Maid!Reader, Soulmate AU)

A/N: Hello @may85, it is I!!!! Your Secret Santa revealed for @bowieandqueen11‘s Christmas event!! I hope you like it, I have never written for The Loser’s Club before and now this is the right time! I hope you like it!

Here is a link for the song at the end of the Oneshot, for anyone who’d like to listen!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_VpBqHYv0M

Word Count: 2066

Warnings: maid/domestic work, a meet cute, drinking, swearing, a bit of angst, doggos, soulmate au with marks and the whole shebang and a bit of Reddie thrown in too!

You looked at the mark on your forearm under your stuffy black dress. A single red mark the shape of an oval, but all alone. No soulmate, no second mark. You covered it up before some old woman in a tiara could see you and spit at you for another Rose glass.

Snooty Architect parties made you want to crash your head into the wall.

Maybe it was because it was long, it took hours to prepare and hours to clean after, but that was not all. It was the people.

“Hey, gimme another martini, will you?” your boss asked. “And there’s something on your apron, sweetheart, wipe it off.”

You sighed. You knew that being a maid would not be easy. But the thought of dropping to become a stripper making a thousand a night seemed a little tempting that night.

You went into the bathroom and wet a towel to clean your apron, noticing a strain of meatball sauce, but as you squeezed out the surplus liquid you got a look at yourself.

Who would pay to see me strip, though? Your eyes looked puffy and your hair was a mess.

As you turned back to go to the party, you turned back to your senses to make it more enjoyable. There was beautiful jazz piano music drifting through the air along with some clicking heel steps and laughter that was small and polite.

Rarely, you would see a pair with the two red marks. It would peek out from a sleeve on the wrist or revealed on a shoulder thanks to a woman wearing a dress with no neckline. But there were a lot of double marks and happy faces to go along with them.

Armies of black tuxedoes and sometimes the glittery green and blue and red dresses the women wore would catch your eye. They smiled with bright pink lipstick and then men would take out a cigar occasionally, mixing it with the smell of flowery perfume and the spray you have been using to keep it clean.

And speaking of clean, there was a mess on the floor again.

Snapping out, you were about to run back to the cleaning supplies to fetch a mop when someone called

“OOOF!”

BAM!

You looked over and saw a man was lying down over the stain.

People turned around and gasped pretentiously at this event. You could swear the piano stopped too.

Hurrying over, you offered your hand to the man.

“I’m so sorry! I was just about to clean that mess up! Are you okay?” you ask in one breath.

As you got a good look at him you had to revise that second thought.

It was a handsome man who was lying over the stain.

He was slightly freckled with brown hair and a beard that seemed as soft as clouds. He was tall and muscular with high cheekbones on his face. And as for his tuxedo…well, you know what they say about a man in a tuxedo. He was like a walking ken doll.

Too bad it was now ruined, considering that said stain was over the seat of his pants.

You helped him up and led him to a back closet. Pushing aside from any snide looks at the sight of a man and woman going into a room alone together, you sat him on an upside-down bucket and began searching the containers.

“Trust me, this isn’t the first time this has happened, but I know how to clean it” you insist.

He looked down at his pants and then at you.

“Oh, thanks a lot! That’s very nice of you” he said cheerfully.

“I’m just doing my job” you replied with a shrug. A half-smirk made it’s way on you as you checked the stain conveniently on his gluts. It wasn’t a sight to complain about.

“A lot of people here would have just turned away…” he mumured, looking at the door back to the party.

You give him the bottle of the mixture you kept for stains and hand it over to him.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asks politely. He looks down a little and puts an arm on his forearm, rubbing timidly.

You answer him with your name.

“Lovely, I’m Ben, Ben Hanscom.” he replies.

The party felt a little faster after meeting Ben, but once the clock struck midnight you sighed at the streamers and stains and bits of food everywhere. You had just gotten the broom and dustpan, ready to go only to notice that one guest hadn’t left yet.

“Ben? What are you doing here?” you questioned your eyes the size of the moon.

“I couldn’t just say thank you, look!” he points to his pants where the stain dipped.

It is barely visible.

“Let me return the favor, okay? I’ll help you clean up” he begs.

May 2019

Winter and Spring had long since passed. But your friendship with Ben had not. Just his face and the thought of his voice made every grueling day of scrubbing floors pass by with a smile on your lips.

Feeling a buzz from your purse, you looked down to see it was Ben’s name on top of that happy little green square. Joy buzzed in your guts as you sat down on your boss’s yellow couch, freshly vacuumed, and read the text, the phone almost to your nose.

Ben: Hey there, I’m having dinner with someone.

Now a different feeling buzzed in your guts.

Ben: It’s someone important. What kind of drink should I have? You’re a total drink expert so I wanted to ask you.

Someone important. Probably a female someone.

You texted back with an angry huff escaping your lips.

Y/N: Depends, what meat are you having?

Ben: I’m fixing a meatloaf. I know, it’s old fashioned. I’m a mom at heart, Y/N

IY/N: t’s alright! Well, since that’s darker meat, go with a bottle of red wine!

Ben: That’s perfect! Thank you!

Y/N: I swear Ben, you make buildings, cook, and you’re learning the piano! You’re a real Renaissance man!

Little did you know that Ben was roasting his mother’s signature meatloaf at home. The thought of your name made him feel warm, and not just from the oven.

Flutters aside from your comment, he reached over and texted.

Ben: You always help me give such good advice, it’s for my buddy, Ritchie! I haven’t seen him in years! I’ll tell him that the wine was your idea.

Y/N: Ritchie? One of your Derry buddies?

You got up from leaning on the couch and nearly let out a whoop, but stopped, knowing your boss was in the midst of his nap. That jolt of happy lightning was still going through you.

Ben: Yup! He’s coming over to discuss proposal ideas….

Y/N: Lucky girl.

Ben: Well, Eddie’s not a girl, but he’s lucky. I hope you like Pomeranian pics bc his new puppy is the cutest thing…

Y/N: Please send them!

He immediately sent you a picture of the sweetest looking Pomeranian curled up on a large bed, sleeping under the covers with his front paws tucked over like a polite child.

Y/N: Awwwww! Any name?

Ben: They don’t know. I keep trying to tell Ritchie that Punk Ass Bitch isn’t an option.

Y/N: How about Penny! Cause he’s the color of one!

There were five minutes of silence.

Not Penny was all that he said.

Tears returned.

August 2019

“I have never seen someone so disrespectful,” your boss glowered. From behind his desk, his shadow grew so large it seemed to swallow you whole.

“Sir, it was a mistake!” you begged.

“Not a mistake! An insult!” he screamed, banging his fists on his desk.

“Sir, please listen! I am truly sorry; I didn’t know this would happen! I didn’t know it was wrong! Here, let me take care of it, I swear…” you beg, your legs begin to buckle beneath you.

“Get out! You’re fired! And so, help me, I never want to even speak to you again!” he thundered, pointing to the door.

Nauseous and sobbing violently, you ran out.

But the sun was setting, and it seemed there was no one. Almost no one. There was one person you wanted to see more than ever now.

Nerves shackled your stomach. You hadn’t talked to Ben much since that day because you were so ashamed, but here you were. Knocking on his door, he opened wearing a button-up shirt that made you want to swear under your breath.

“Ben, let me just make this quick, I’m so sorry. I sent that text...”

“No, no, please Y/N, don’t worry! I’ll explain everything. You had no way of knowing, please come in!”

You walked into his house, admiring all his things. His black dog trotted over and smiled in a greeting, wagging his tail so hard that it hurt a little when it hit your leg.

Looking over, you noticed a picture frame. It must have been Ben with his family but…there was only one kid. One kid that had his eye color but not his body type.

“Is this your family?”

“Yes, uhm…take a seat, Y/N, I have a lot to tell you.” He says, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“And is this you?” you asked, still looking at the frame.

He nodded “uhm…yes. I used to be heavy. I was bullied a lot. I spent all my summers at the library too.”

He lifted his shirt to show his stomach. Your eyes widened at the sight of some scars.

“Some bullies got me one day and almost stabbed me.”

“That’s awful. You’re lucky you survived.” you comforted, blinking slowly and trying to see it in your head. The thought of someone hurting Ben made your fists clench.

“That’s an understatement,” he said.

It was in the privacy of that house Ben explained everything. Derry’s curse. Pennywise. The deaths. The visions.

“But Ben….” You explain softly “I understand…I really do…”

You begin to reach over for his hand and instead, he hugs you deeply. Warm, soft, and safe, you feel some of his tears fall down his face onto your shoulder.

Suddenly you notice for the first time that his forearm has a mark just like yours. After the shaking and crying have paused for a moment, you touch it.

“Ben…look…” you whisper.

But he is staring at you back, mouth open and silent.

And your forearm is feeling very warm.

Ben barely gets the question out before you pull up your sleeve and show him your mark.

Only this time, there are two red ovals, just like his.

December 2019

“The day after Christmas has to be the saddest day in the whole year” you sigh, swirling the drink in your glass.

The sky was dark and full of gently falling snowflakes. You were lounging on your boyfriends' seat and his dog was curled up next to you. The dog’s hair was on almost all of your clothes now, but with such a sweet face (and an even sweeter owner), you couldn’t care less.

Ben looked at you, in his cream-colored sweater, and grinned. He then turned to the new piano he got for Christmas and sat down.

“Funny you should say that ever heard Alex Duffy’s music?” he asked, starting to play chords to get into the right key.

“No” you answer with your head shaking.

He offered an arm and gestured next to the piano. You walked over and stood still, watching him as he began to play and sing:

“I walk down the street and see a wintery wonderland

The candles in the windows and the salvation army band

All the people wandering 'round in a sudden state of glee

But all of those people, they ain't me

I smell in the air pine needles fresh and new

And everyone's cheeks have got a pleasant rosy hue

They've got visions of the gifts that underneath their tree will lie

But to that I say: not I”

He then looks at you, and plays a bit further, only glancing at the keys.

For I've got a secret that no one else can know

That keeps my temperament even during times of snow

I've got the perfect present, one not wrapped up in a bow

It lifts my spirits high when I'm feeling low

Others long for the holidays, yes indeed they do

But every day is Christmas when I'm with you”

You keep listening to the song, then go around and wrap him in his arms. He keeps singing softly, for only you to hear.

Now some might say it's unfair and severe

That I get a Christmas gift each day of the year

To them, I would say that I've no guarantee

But maybe one day they'll find someone as sweet as she

I've got the perfect present, one not wrapped up in a bow

She lifts my spirits high when I'm feeling low

Others long for the holidays, yes indeed they do

But every day is Christmas

Yes every day I deck the halls

Everyday is Christmas when I'm with you!

He gets up and hugs you deeply, your arms entwined and your marks touching together. It snows a little harder when you both kiss.

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my-proof-is-you · 5 years ago

Text

I Hate You, I Love You - Ch. 21

Summary: It had been over a year since you had hunted with the Winchester brothers. You had felt you couldn’t hide your feelings anymore, so you left. While you were gone, life had been anything but good. When you meet up with the brothers again, you can’t resist staying with them. But your feelings for Dean are far from gone, and you’re afraid the pattern will remain the same. Can you hide what happened to you last year from the boys, or will the past come back to haunt you?

WARNINGS: Rape/Non-Con, mentions of graphic violence, torture

**I do not own the gifs or pics

Masterlist

You

The steak medallion you had was the best cut of meat you had ever tasted. It was cooked to utter perfection.

“That was amazing,” you said as you walked hand-in-hand with Crowley down the long hall to your room. Sure, you were a prisoner, but it didn’t feel like it. If anything this was the best you had ever lived.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he responded as you stopped in front of the door. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, sending butterflies through you.

You bit your lip. “Are you going to come in for a little bit?” You asked innocently.

An evil smirk appeared on Crowley’s face. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”

The two of you entered the room and Crowley headed straight to the small bar at one side of the room to make you drinks. You were feeling bold and confident, more so than you ever had before. You walked over to the bed and turned to face his back. You slowly slipped the straps of the beautiful red dress he had provided you over your shoulders. The flowy material dropped down your body, pooling at your feet. You stood in the black, lacy bra and panties you had underneath, your heels still on.

“How would you like a night cap, my dear?” Crowley asked, picking up the two glasses from the bar and turning around. When he saw you he took a deep breath in, his eyes narrowing in lust. “Or not,” he said, setting the glasses back down.

He stalked toward you, not slowing down until he reached you, his lips crashing into yours. He immediately backed you up, and the backs of your knees hit the bed, sending you on your back. Crowley’s lips left yours and he worked his way down your neck, kissing and biting.

A flash of something ran through you, causing panic to shake you to your core. Almost as quickly as it came, it was gone, and before you could explore the feeling Crowley’s hands were on your breasts, squeezing and pinching. The bit of pain it caused was actually extremely arousing.

Crowley pulled back from you for a moment, looking down at you. “Are you ready to do this?”

“Y-yes,” you said. You felt weird saying it, like inside you might not be as sure. You ignored it again, pulling him back to you. You weren’t going to let some weird feelings stop you from doing what you wanted to do.

Dean

The numbers “666” appeared on Dean’s phone as it rang, and he jumped up to answer it, putting it on speaker for Sam and Cas to hear.

“Crowley I swear to God if you hurt her—“ he began when he answered.

“Oh calm down, squirrel, she’s fine,” Crowley replied. Fury flowed through Dean’s veins.

“Well what the fuck do you want? Whatever it is, we’ll make a deal and you can give Y/N back to us.”

“Oh I’m afraid that won’t be happening,” Crowley responded.

Panic threatened to choke Dean. “What?” Sam and Cas stared at the phone, waiting for an explanation as well.

“Y/N is quite happy here. She doesn’t want to come back to you. In fact, I’m not even holding her prisoner anymore.”

“I don’t believe you, you dick!” Dean yelled.

“Dean?” Your voice came through the speaker.

“Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay?” Dean asked. He was so relieved to hear your voice.

“I’m fine, Dean,” you said. Your voice was flat, as if the conversation was boring you.

“Y/N, what is he talking about? We’re going to come rescue you!”

“Dean, I don’t want to come back.”

Dean’s heart dropped. “Wh-what are you talking about? What did he do to you?” He knew there was no way you would be saying this on your own. Maybe he was holding a weapon to you. Just say the words, Y/N. Use our code for danger.

“Crowley has been nothing but good to me. In fact, I’m in love with him.”

Dean stood in shock, unable to form words. No part of that sentence was code, and you didn’t sound like you were in danger at all.

“Goodbye, Dean. Don’t try to contact me.” Click.

Dean stood frozen, the phone still in his hand.

“Dean, he obviously did something to her. We’re gonna find her, don’t worry.” Sam sounded far away.

Could you really be in love with Crowley? Dean knew that he had treated people he liked well. Maybe it was taking them too long to find you. Maybe you liked how Crowley treated you.

“No.” Dean said.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Cas asked.

“If she doesn’t want to be found then we should just leave her alone. She said she’s in love with him, man.”

“Dean, she was obviously lying, or-or Crowley did something to mess with her head!” Sam said. He had grasped onto his brother’s shoulders, trying to get his gaze to focus on him.

“I don’t know, Sammy. She sounded so sure.” Dean could feel a deep depression growing. He hadn’t even been able to tell you he loved you yet.

“Hey, hey! Look at me,” Sam said, shaking Dean a little. “Don’t be an idiot. You are not giving up on the best thing that has ever happened to you that easily. And we’re not giving up on Y/N.”

Dean felt himself snap back to reality. He had let that asshole convince him that you had changed your mind. But it wasn’t true. He knew that deep down. What the two of you had was real.

Charlie whined beside him. Dean crouched down and rubbed the dog’s ears, earning him a lick on the face. “I miss her too, boy,” he told Charlie quietly.

“Okay, okay. You’re right.” Dean stood back up and grabbed his laptop. “But we need to find her ASAP. Who knows what he did to her and how much worse it gets by the second.”

“Guys,” Cas began, his face deep in thought, “I believe that Crowley just unwittingly gave us the answer of how to find Y/N.”

“What? How?” Dean asked.

Cas thought for a moment before nodding almost to himself. “We are going to need to find a witch.”

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14

@divadinag

@lynne1993

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

@infj-slytherclaw

@onethirstyunicorn

@sammykb1994

Deanies:

@tftumblin

@deans-baby-momma

@akshi8278

@weepingwillowphoenix

@playingdeep17

This fic:

@heyyy-hey-babyyy

@mere-mortifer

@my-soul-is-the-moon

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #SPN #spn fanfic #spnfandom #SPNFamily #spn imagine #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester/reader #Sam Winchester #castiel #crowley #fanfic #angst #fluff

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bladekindeyewear · 6 years ago

Text

Boots Reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 15 - Candy Page 34

==>

John finally decides to let the relevance of his story end, and enjoy that he’s made at least some of his other friends happy with his choice. Time to read Page 34...

VRISKA: Pfft, yeah, wh8tever. I’m basically Immortal, bitch.

Preeeetty sure you’re confusing yourself with one of your parents.

Pff, actual healthy kismesis with a Tavros? Wow, we’re getting all sorts of redemption by not-really-Vriska proxy here.

HARRY ANDERSON: he’s always getting all weepy whenever i talk to him anyway. HARRY ANDERSON: i don’t think i could have taken another round of him choking back tears while apologizing to me about “what happened with me and your mother, harry.” HARRY ANDERSON: i mean, god. he’s not even fucking DRUNK when he does this. HARRY ANDERSON: that might actually be the most embarrassing part.

.......

Okay, having grown up with a father who suffered from serious depression and would break into tears embarrassingly easily, uh. I can relate? But also fuck you, that’s inconsiderate.

--Dammit, new Vriska is catching wind of old Vriska.

Vriska and (Vriska) both start shrieking at a pitch John’s only ever heard one time before. It was a sound that once accompanied the end of everything. A sound once heard the night he dreamt in anime.

Oh that’s brilliant. If the entire Candy arc ended here it’d be great, though I know it’s not quite over yet.

==>

...Oh shit, we actually get to see what happens immediately next.

Interesting introspective thoughts! Or, trying her best NOT to be introspective and failing.

Oh my god, SHUT UP Gamzee. Vriska, just kill him already??

PFFF HE SENT A PIC OF IT TO KARKAT :D

Pfff. Yeah, Vriska, TRY and ignore what just happened and how it was almost entirely your idea.

(Vriska) is so furious, she has no way of pinpointing the exact moment her intent stopped being intimidating him into silence and started being guaranteeing his silence, forever.

Thank FUCKING goodness, PLEASE kill him.

YAY he’s dead! :D (Even though he’ll probably revive anyway because bullshit.)

Heheh. NOW we get a cross-Vriska heart to heart.

==>

Alright, a bit more John moping. Man... this Candy section is a whole lot easier to swallow AFTER Meat than I imagine it would have been before.

.....heck. EITHER of these epilogue branches are really fucking hard to swallow the first time around without the other’s context.

Oh huh, it’s his house from the Medium then? Relocated and stuff?

Jake, hm. Is Jake going to try and leave his son with John like that failed kidnapping in reverse or?

Jake snaps the elastic on his pair of red underpants. It’s the only thing he’s wearing.

Oooookay then.

JAKE: She had a certain way she liked me kipped out and well, i didnt want to bring anything that belonged to her when i left. Nothing she er, might miss. TAVROS: You took me,

Jake winces.

TAVROS: And,,, you took you,

Jake’s wince deepens.

Oh, so that’s what this is! Jake fleeing with his son from an abusive relationship. About gosh darn time. .....geez, how bad did it get for JAKE to finally muster the gumption to do that himself after all these years???

Jake is one whole wince now

I know THAT feeling. Or at least feel like I do.

John you dedicate your life to keeping this child happy

JOHN: it’s just been kind of a rough forever.

JAKE: Maybe you should blame me? JAKE: Maybe i need someone to blame me. For once. JOHN: ...huh? JAKE: I think im starting to realize that ive been going through life with the mindset that nothing has ever really been within my control.

YES.

This is how Vriska broke Tavros way back in the comic, by constantly denying him agency. Jake’s been battered down the same way too, and it’s not too late to pick up the reins. He’s already DONE that by finally leaving his genocidal wife.

There’s a bit of Page of Hope-yness to this whole disastrous Candy timeline, come to think of it? People fulfilling others’ desires out of obligation constantly, doing what they think others want? Roxy, Jake, Dave and Karkat... all fucked over at the aggressive whims of more active folk, rolling over when they really shouldn’t have? Or in Roxy’s case, her CHARACTER basically SHOULD NOT HAVE IN THE SLIGHTEST?

JAKE: Havent you ever wanted to let someone make the tough choices for you?

Huh.

Or maybe he is doing exactly what Jake has always done. In a certain light, isn’t ascribing all this mess to some unconscious influence he might have had over the metaphysical shape of reality just a way to brush off his simpler failures as a man and a father?

Yes. You can act and change this too, John. You almost did with the kidnapping before! Go and take down the new Batterwitch.

Hm, Hopey thing?

JAKE: John. JOHN: yeah? JAKE: Take my hand. JOHN: what? why?

Oh shit. Are they going to be able to FIX some of this BS with some sort of hopey thing??? :D Probably too much to hope for but still!

Being flung from Jake’s orbit of Hope and Change

Pffff. Had to throw in an Obama didn’t you.

...Oh. Oh wow. Oh we get to figure out what the fuck was up with Roxy all this time. Oh boy.

JAKE: So what if it doesnt change anything? Wont it matter to your family to see you care? JAKE: Wont it make you feel better to try?

Heheh, Hope aspecty stuff. The ability to believe that something matters even when you “know” it doesn’t.

==>

...Yeah, it’s pretty easy to relax on a dead Gamzee.

Oh cool. These Vriskas are alike enough to bond! New Vriska is still in her teenage unbalanced go-for-it stage, and old Vriska has been knocked down a peg by the clown incident, putting them on a close enough level to not want to instantly disown each other, unlike old Vriska and ghost Vriska.

VRISKA: The Mayor’s dead, dude.

HOW did the Mayor die?!?? Did I just FORGET that from the end of Homestuck or something??

(I mean, probably.)

Callback to the clouds in that first Jade dream John had.

(VRISKA): Or may8e the truth just makes me kind of nervous. VRISKA: What “Truth”? (VRISKA): Don’t tell him I said this, 8ut, I think John is just an extremely powerful 8eing. Even when he sucks. (VRISKA): And he certainly does appear to suck in this reality. (VRISKA): And yet, the uneasy feeling is there. (VRISKA): It’s a vague feeling I’ve had in the 8ack of my mind for a long time, 8ut it really hit me when I was talking to him earlier. (VRISKA): It’s distur8ing to think a8out that much power 8ottled up in one stupid nerd who’ll never understand it. VRISKA: What Power are you even talking a8out? VRISKA: Like, lame Wind Powers? (VRISKA): No, I mean... (VRISKA): The power to shape reality. Even without intending to.

FUCK did he really cause all this??? Even the Roxy shit?!??? D: D: D:

It’s being left vague but it IS sounding like John was actually RIGHT about all that stuff. FUCK, if the “villain” who messed up Roxy is actually just John’s subconscious... :C

Even if the epilogue ends right here, though, with John about to call Roxy, I can imagine it working out, though. It’s on a right enough track there.

(VRISKA): I’ve spent so long caring so much a8out what other people thought of me. Mainly that they saw me as important, or making a “difference.”

Mhmm mhmm. Light n stuff.

Yeah, realizing that importance isn’t ALL that’s “important” is really, um. Important. Ahem.

Hm, other Vriska, that smile had seven pairs of dots, not eight. :?

(VRISKA): The POINT is, I was so mad at her. (VRISKA): That happy ghost version of myself, who was free of everything. (VRISKA): I was pro8a8ly mad 8ecause she got to 8e who she really was, without stressing a8out it, which is something I never felt like I was allowed to have.

Indeed.

(VRISKA): I guess I mean there’s someone specifically I fell out of touch with, who it feels like I’ll never see again.

Too bad, only ghost Vriska got her reunite with ‘Rezi. :P

(VRISKA): On some level I knew she was right. She was happy and honest with herself. And that’s what made her... (VRISKA): A version of myself who was actually worthy of someone I cared a8out.

Yyyep. As I said. :)

VRISKA: You’re just talking a8out The Girl You 8linded that one time, aren’t you? (VRISKA): Ummmmmmmm.

Heheh. Yeah, you’re not going to hide that sort of thing from your sharp near-clone.

Oh cool! She gets to see all those messages and feel turboguilt or something.

...oh shit. Is a message going to actually get to her? It-- oh shit. Didn’t Terezi have her phone buzzing in her pocket and ignored it in the end of Meat or something? Or at SOMEONE did and I thought it conspicuous but it didn’t get addressed in that side of the story and-- FFFFuck is she eventually going to see it or??! D:

She’s GOT to have seen it before running all the way off with villain Dirk, right?? D:

==>

Okay. You seem to be thinking clearly, Roxy. What’s going through your head? Give us some answers. Don’t fuck this up too much, John.

but she knows by now that it’s not her job to make him happy. That was something she gave up on years ago. But wanting to? That feeling is still as fresh as it always was.

FUCK was this all just a placid feeling of obligation to make John happy for all he did to ensure victory or something??? D: D: D:

She’s still working through what she feels about distancing herself from Jane

Yesssss

If he’s truly about to be real with her for the first time in forever,

Gosh fucking DARNIT John, you could have fixed all this DECADES AGO if you had a real talk with her ONCE!!!!!

ROXY: the more i thought abt it the more i figured holdin on to that one thing made me lose out on some other shit ROXY: u might relate JOHN: haha, you got me there i guess.

JOHN: i’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how things got to be like they are. JOHN: i guess i’ll just come out and say it. JOHN: i completed fucked up your entire life. JOHN: i’m not going to pretend like there are two sides here. it’s my bad, totally. JOHN: like, not just what happened to our marriage, though it’s also true that that’s completely my fault. JOHN: but even before that... JOHN: i think i fucked up on just this massive, fundamental level, and it’s what i did— JOHN: or, well, what i didn’t do— JOHN: that caused every stupid bullshit thing about the way this world is.

...Huh.

That may not actually be true, and Roxy might be about to prove how self-absorbedly reductive that is.

ROXY: oh nah ill stop u rite there my man

Okay YES. If this wasn’t him, then SET HIM THE FUCK STRAIGHT. :D

She knows more than he does, and she doesn’t need to hear it.

TELL US TELL US TELL US

YES TEAR INTO HIM he’s wanted that for so long stand up for yourself and tell us what the fuck happened and why

He’s been looking at her, really looking at her, and she doesn’t want to blink, just in case that shatters it.

Yes because he was looking for the real Roxy that would call out his BS

JOHN: i used to be so angry that you wouldn’t tell me what you really thought, before. JOHN: not like i wanted to FIGHT fight, but like. JOHN: i’m just not used to this flavor of roxy. ROXY: hm ROXY: sounds to me like u just disproved ur own hotshot theory then genius JOHN: huh? ROXY: you wished i was one way the whole time we were married ROXY: but i wasnt

YES!!! Yes his theory’s disproven! He never WANTED Roxy to just act that way, he wasn’t the cause of this, I was hoping for that! :D

ROXY: i was bad at standin up for myself then and im learnin to be good at it now

That’s....... sad, if that’s the explanation. But it’s better than mind control I guess. :(

JOHN: but... JOHN: you were never like that before i... ROXY: dude ROXY: where tf do u get off trying to decide what is or isnt me being “like me” enuff ROXY: do u think ppl stay the same their whole damn lives or what

Oh wow. Now Andrew’s slamming SLAMMING of fanfics. He’s saying “who are you to know for SURE that they wouldn’t act that way”?? That’s pretty good.

ROXY: i like the way things turned out just fuckin fine ROXY: so maybe u could stop wastin precious eternity thinkin ur so special that its ur fault everyones not perfectly happy

:’)

Mhmm, and they’re free from the heroic design arcs or what have you. Or... were, until Dirk tore them back in again. Tossed aside their fucking victory with his selfish... ugh.

Mhmm, Roxy’s the perfect person to explain that not being in a canon, Light-filled timeline isn’t really a bad thing.

ROXY: i just do things the best way i think to do em and then shrug n hope it works out?

Roxy thinks about time and the spirals of choice that hang just outside her periphery, and the vertigo grows.

Good advice, and hm. Maybe there’s some Void sight kind of playing into this as well, making it easy for her to get paralyzed by indecision and she’s had to learn to work through it.

...Ooh, that was a really cool non-binary gender diatribe in the narrative text. That’s some nice stuff. I felt like that was missing from the Meat side, glad we got it here at least. :D

JOHN: there’s literally nothing to do but keep moving forward. JOHN: i may as well not be a big fucking downer about it if i don’t have to be.

Thank goodness.

YES, JOHN SHOWING HIMSELF STRAIGHT-BACKED FOR HIS SON!!! :D

Man, I wish my dad had done that instead of all the other shit he did. At least he’s dead. :)

(Here’s a hint in case you’re wondering why I was relieved when my Dad offed himself.)

But that’s off topic. Let’s wrap up this epilogue already!!

==>

Page 39... only three or so pages left, right?

Pff, Karkat’s keeping them safe.

Heheh, more shitty Liberty statues.

Heheh, using them for weapons caches.

Gosh I hope they actually love each other and are mostly happy. Jade seems happy, at least. :(

Dammit, there go the doubts. He wouldn’t have had those doubts with Karkat. :C

He’s standing in the Oval Office of the White House.

Oh heck yes. Please tell me...

And over there... is something he doesn’t quite recognize. It doesn’t seem to fit in. He steps closer to investigate, wiping away at the layers of moss and dirt to reveal a surface he most certainly does recognize. It’s a transportalizer.

YES

Dave doesn’t waste any time. You don’t find something like this in the Oval Office and start agonizing over whether or not to use it. He steps on the platform, and in a blink his surroundings are completely different. The centuries of overgrowth are gone, and he appears to be in some sort of crypt, boxed in by walls of smooth, golden stone. At the far side of the room, something is hanging on the wall, encased in a sort of display. It’s a mounted god tier costume, about the size an adult male would wear. He recognizes the symbol. It’s the same one Jake used to wear when they were teens. It is the symbol for Hope.

HELL FUCKING YES

YES OBAMA

OBAMA: Hello, Mr. Strider. OBAMA: I’ve been waiting a long time for you to show up.

Dave’s jaw hangs open. The legends have been confirmed. As well as several key headcanons of his. Without thinking, he drops to one knee and bows his head.

DAVE: m... mr president DAVE: its an honor sir

Man, forget my past stomach clenching. Forget my hesitations, my turbulent emotions, all the ups and downs the various facets of these Epilogue chapters have given me. THIS is the best. THIS makes it all worth it. This is the best thing to have ever happened, and if I ever feel any regrets about ANYTHING that transpired in the Epilogues, I’ll feel infinitely better the moment I remember it gave us THIS.

The most beautiful scene I’ve ever witnessed. All my liberal, economy-ranting hopes and dreams confirmed. It’s glorious.

OBAMA: Come on now, Dave. We can’t be having that. OBAMA: I’m nobody’s king. I’m a democratically elected representative who took an oath to serve his country and his people. People like you, Dave. OBAMA: If anything, I should be the one bowing.

OBAMA. I MISSED YOU OBAMA. I CAN HEAR YOUR VOICE THROUGH YOUR TEXT AND ITS SO COMFORTING AND UPLIFTING

DAVE: mr president what i mean is im a huge fan of yours and i hope this doesnt sound fucked up but on some level i feel like ive been waiting my whole life for this moment?? OBAMA: I know, Dave.

Yes, yes you have. Yes, we can.

OBAMA: Most people thought I was gone. But I was keeping an eye on events. OBAMA: Wouldn’t miss it for anything.

I, too, would like to have the feeling that Obama is still out there, keeping an eye on things. Watching, smiling... providing some last background of Hope as things seem so temporarily sour. That feeling would be amazing.

...I mean he’s still alive IRL, sure, but not Obama watermark smiling lovingly from the sky or anything like it should be.

Yes, back to reading. Back to this glorious, definitely canon moment. The moment we learned that Obama was with us the whole time. :’)

DAVE: sorry if this is nosy but if you didnt die when you disappeared then how did you die OBAMA: Most of that is classified, Dave.

Pfffffff :D

OBAMA: When I was a boy living in Hawaii, on my thirteenth birthday I was visited by a mysterious stranger. OBAMA: He was an older man with a mustache. Kind of a corny, old-fashioned, adventuring type. He tried to convince me we were related. Of course, I thought he was full of shit. OBAMA: To this day, I’m not sure about that. Maybe he was. I didn’t think much of his tall tale at the time, but what did pique my interest was his story. OBAMA: He was voyaging all over the Pacific looking for a mysterious island, which supposedly had all the answers he’d spent his whole life searching for. OBAMA: During his travels, he set up outposts all over the ocean to help with his search. Such as one near where I lived as a boy. The outpost had a laboratory, an archeological dig site, a network of underground tunnels, the works. OBAMA: One time, I snuck in there and did some exploration of my own. Somewhere in the maze of underground ruins, I found a transporter pad, just like the one that brought you here. OBAMA: It sent me to a new realm. A place they called the Medium.

Grandpa Jake of Earth A, thank you SO much for bringing us this gift. The gift of Obama.

OBAMA: Hey, why don’t we take a walk. You’ll have a chance to collect yourself. And there’s something I’d like you to see.

:O :O :O

I am shivering with anticipation.

Ah, leave it to Obama to help Dave with the final steps of his character arc.

OBAMA: Are you sure that’s all he is, Dave?

FIX THINGS OBAMA!!!! :D :D :D

Wait, what if Obama can turn things into an actually legitimate DaveKatJade? That would be a miracle only a god of Hope could pull off.

OBAMA: I’ve had my share of doubts about all that, just like any other man. OBAMA: And I’ve had plenty of the same kind of struggles as you, Dave. DAVE: wait DAVE: you...

Obama nods, smiles wistfully. Dave arches his eyebrows high above his shades. They stare at each other, and in the look they exchange, they seem to say all that needs to be said between two grown men on the matter.

:’)

OBAMA: Believing is the key to understanding the truth underlying the words, the truth underlying the ideas they represent, and the truth underlying who we are as individuals. OBAMA: The power of belief, the power of Hope, that’s what endows that which is intangible, ephemeral, or uncertain with a sense of reality. OBAMA: It brings focus to the insubstantial, the mirages of the mind, the multiplicity of what is possible, of what could be, and isolates it—concentrates it—to turn it into that which is. OBAMA: And the result of that, Dave, is what we call truth.

I didn’t think we’d be learning more about the Hope aspect straight from the mouth of Barack Obama.

OBAMA: He taught me about many things. Combat, philosophy, life, love... DAVE: love??? DAVE: hold on are you saying DAVE: that...

PFFFFFFFF :D :D :D

OBAMA: She’s settled happily into the specific. That’s her path now. OBAMA: All of you have embraced that life, in this safely sequestered version of planet Earth. OBAMA: All of you until now, Dave. OBAMA: This is why you’re here. OBAMA: I believe you’re ready to wake up. DAVE: ...

...this is suddenly possibly going to be getting slightly sad isn’t it. D:

--Oh shit, so THIS is where Davebot came from.

How is he going to break things off with Jade though??? D: D: D:

...Oh my GOSH he’s just going to suddenly vanish and abandon her isn’t he. D:

...alright, merging with his other selves, et cetera...

It defers to its greatest knight, risen anew.

Yeah that’s nice but am I supposed to pretend you’re going to say goodbye to Jade offscreen or

--ah that’s why the bot didn’t have shades, gotta use the genuine Stiller ones

==>

Page 40, and the start of this sounds a lot like the Postscript. But we’re getting more this time, thank god.

ARADIA: when i watched as everything broke apart ARADIA: and got swallowed up by the black hole ARADIA: which is where i ended up too ARADIA: that black hole... ARADIA: thats basically you right JADE: yes. ARADIA: and when you speak of your brother ARADIA: thats lord english JADE: yes. ARADIA: and hes dead JADE: not just yet.

Oh shit. John’s final blow didn’t kill Lord English did it. Alt!Callie is going to strike the very last killing blow herself isn’t she.

JADE: lesser beings have so much trouble perceiving divinity in the uncanny.

Divinity? Like, Lollipop-style divinity? I mean, I guess this IS the Candy branch...? But what made this so “perfect” to begin with?

JADE: this world, unlike the canonical horrors from which it is hermetically insulated, will always fail to meet the combined criteria for truth, relevance, and essentiality that would endow this realm with any real gravity. JADE: its own naturally occurring supply of gravity, rather than the artificial supply i have given it. JADE: as such, what transpires here is characterized by experiential frivolity. JADE: physically, it is cordoned off by the black hole’s event horizon. it is safe. untouchable. JADE: inescapable. ARADIA: that sounds ominous

Oh. So this outside-of-canon timeline-verse whatever that Candy takes place in is like a trap? For Lord English to be trapped in forever, inside not just his OWN story like we thought before but into a place where he’ll be forever irrelevant, while, like... the “Prince” and others following him for pursuit or camaraderie reasons manage to escape somewhere even different? --No wait those people are OUTSIDE this place, in the “real” timeline/universe of Earth C. So Dirk’s destination is somewhere completely different; oh, and alt!Callie is the only one with the power to escape the black hole, to bring Davebot and Aradia with her back to quote-unquote “canon” or the closest thing to it to bring bastard Dirkbro down.

Or... something.

JADE: one could describe it as a phantasmal projection confined within my horizon. JADE: it was created by a choice that made it possible for that horizon to expand infinitely, to consume infinitely. JADE: and since that choice could not coexist with canon events, this place manifested to here to support its consequences. JADE: if this world were capable of anything either essential, relevant, or true in some stable combination, then it would perpetuate a corrosive paradox. JADE: as such, insulation from what is out there, and the inescapable well it rests in, is what protects all it holds inside. JADE: and since i am the embodiment of the black hole in which it rests, JADE: i am the one protecting this world.

Oh huh. So when we saw alt!Callie creating the black hole out of the Sun, she was actually using John’s “choice” and his timeline split to engineer the paradox that drove that singularity’s expansion? And so she’s going to be the lord and safeguard of all that is Non-Canon, and also seek to guide the heroes trying to save what IS Canon?

Hm!

JADE: physical destruction is one thing. JADE: obliteration of the entire canvas for all of reality over a given cosmic span is another. JADE: and yet there are even more insidious forms of destruction and subversion of life to consider. JADE: methods that are difficult to grasp for those on your plane.

Yep, destroying Heart. Destroying Soul. Destroying the uniqueness that drives individual agency and choices, and suborning people completely to your will and ideals without their consent or choice.

Hmm....

JADE: but longer stories have the power to draw consciousness into them. they possess arresting and hypnotic qualities which can be used by their tellers to alter the awareness of the listener.

Yep, like a biased narrator with their claws on the > prompt for characters.

JADE: i brought to your attention that the story you were listening to had a speaker with a specific identity. JADE: and where there is an identity, there can also be an agenda.

Yep yep. And by commandeering the story to his own agenda, Dirk’s been robbing everyone of a fundamental right to their own existences.

JADE: this is the sort of corruption i now must dedicate my existence in this new body to ending once and for all.

Heck Yes; returning the narrative to as objective a speakerless-ness as can be attained or simulated, and divesting the bias from agenda’d narrators that can wrest all control from the participants in a story, enslaving them and making them the author’s puppets instead of true to themselves as characters, people, etc.

--Oh my GOSH, was Dead!Jade eating the remains of Lord English at the end of that Postscript??? She was, wasn’t she? :D :D :D

That’s pretty fucking awesome. And a pretty fucking fair fate for him to get cannibalized by his sister.

JADE: consume his body. JADE: absorb his essence. JADE: and then using this host, i will generate enough power to move beyond the staggering pull of the event horizon encasing this world. JADE: a prison of my own making, which can be escaped only through the supreme unification with my other half. JADE: it is crucial to the cosmos that i succeed. JADE: the prince of heart has to be stopped.

:D :D :D :D :D

Pretty awesome! A decent setup to a story that probably shouldn’t be told, the implied sequel that Meat invites up or whatever. And... oh phew.

Oh PHEW.

OH FUCKING PHEW. HOLD ON.

So. The very last line of the epilogue, the last bit:

The hole leaves behind an absence in the sky so calm that continuing to call it a sky wouldn’t seem to do it justice. It’s a perfectly neutral expanse into which anything one can imagine might be summoned. And for a while, anything was. But not anymore. Where the hole gaped just moments ago, there now exists an imaginary line.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

Okay! :D :D :D

So, when I read that last line, I was INCREDIBLY disheartened. I thought that Andrew was declaring that canon would never interfere with anything again, that this was the FINAL WORD on Homestuck and everything to do with it as far as canon was concerned, and that Dirk’s crimes and such would forever go unresolved and left to the imagination.

But that’s not what the line meant.

What’s INSIDE the singularity, and thus “under” the imaginary line, is everything non-canon, all the possibility and fanfiction and dead ghosts and such who are trapped in this safeguarded realm alt!Callie created to protect them, away from the influence of any future plot danger beyond the mundane issues they create for themselves.

And what’s OUTSIDE the singularity, above the line, is canon. A canon which actually continues, and which this line doesn’t necessarily cut short.

I don’t know if Andrew will ever continue this nonsense, maybe to show me a Rose who’s actually happy as a robot or something? But... er, that’s not the point. The point is that even though the story “isn’t over”, it’s left so it CAN continue, so that the final state of these ISN’T a permanent cliffhanger to be left forever unfulfilled intentionally. I’ll still be traumatized by the state some of these characters are left in, until Andrew maybe possibly chooses to resolve some of this nonsense with later content, which he probably won’t. Heck, this actually might be easier for him to create a new work with, given how much baggage has been left behind on old Earth and in the singularity, so all you have is a much relatively smaller cast of characters on a chase to wherever Dirk is planning to go? But, like. When I read that Postscript, I stopped believing anyone I saw suggesting we’d get anything after this. Any sort of work of... you know... continuing, er, Homestuckiness from Andrew, no matter what it was. But even just... leaving it open even if he isn’t going to DO anything about it, and having that final line NOT be an aggressive cutoff? Is just nice. Nicer, anyway.

And this singularity is kept safe for us to enjoy ALL of the old stuff, the multitude of possibility that the in-singularity version of Roxy glimpses out of the side of her eye. That--

Oh my Gosh. THAT’S also what the final line means.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

Homestuck fanfiction is now COMPLETELY FREE FROM CANON.

Within this singularity, nothing has to stay true to absolutely every underpinning of the earlier comic. Nothing has to make sense. Nothing has to be narratively consistent with anything else, though it’s obviously more enjoyable if it is. Truth, essentiality, and relevance may all be FLEXED as much as any individual fanfic writer needs to! And... and earlier, before this epilogue. When we would get Snapchat stuff of the story on Earth C. And even before that when all we had was the ending flash. There was still a FEAR on many parts that there was more to canon that Andrew wasn’t telling us, that whatever was in our imaginations about what may have happened was “wrong”, that any fanfic you wrote was liable to be disproven formally. But that’s not the case anymore. Because with that line, with alt!Callie sealing off this realm and taking just a last few soon-to-be canon-impactors out of one of its timelines, Andrew has left ALL of the earlier trappings of Homestuck, of Earth, of all these characters and ghosts and fragmented possibilities, permanently free from canon influence from the rest of time. Meaning no Homestuck fanfic that takes place in this singularity-granted realm may EVER be busted by Andrew’s future work. He’s done what he first aspired to do when he declared all fantrolls in existence canon. He’s finally “killed the author”. He’s made the very FACT of an author an enemy, to be pursued in its own canon story outside of all this. He’s set EVERYTHING free.

Wow. So that’s what all the point of all this was, huh? :D

Let me read the last few pages of Candy anyway. Where was I again?

Oh, about to click the last page. ==>

Oh my GOD. This Postscript is about the end of MEAT, where the Meat Postscript showed us the end of CANDY!!! :D

Let’s hear where this shit is all going! I’ve been wondering what realm Dirk is actually heading towards to try and start fucking up. Reading...

...Oh, okay. I thought I glimpsed someone mentioning something about Rose “doing Dirk’s laundry”, and I thought I just missed some narrative comment on laundry made when Dirk took Rose out of the apartment on that final trip out to Jake’s for a spaceship? But I guess this was the scene they were talking about. Fuck you, Dirk.

One of her more reckless shipmates chipped a tooth trying one, despite repeated warnings to stay away from the stuff.

So Terezi IS there? And probably received that final message from Vriska to think about.

It’s a stray ruby slipper. The other is about ten feet away, down the hall. No sign of their owner anywhere.

Yep, that’s definitely Terezi.

...Oh cool, Rose’s body isn’t quite dead? She could be returned to it or a souped-up version of it if she’s ever brought to her senses outside Dirk’s corrosive influence.

A new planet is within sensor range. She studies the millions of statistics all pouring in at once.

They’re heading for a planet? Somewhere else in Universe C?

It’s an M-Class planet. The right size, right age, right distance from the sun. There’s no advanced life yet. It’s exactly what they’ve been looking for all these years.

Shit, a NEW planet? For all this shit to go down on? Maybe I don’t need to see what happens next, that sounds potentially a little boring. The future adventure this story entails COULD just be implied and never followed up on.

Once the new race has established

What race??? Human, hybrid?? It’s not TROLL, y’all would have brought Aradia if that was the case, right? Or is this why there are tons of trolls in Universe C that Caliborn and Calliope’s parent trolls got to incinerate ages later, seeded across planets by these assholes?

The ones who get the chance to play what will arguably be the most important session in the history of Sburb?

Ahhh. Okay. So this may INDEED be something interesting, something worth seeing. A new session, one where Dirk is the villain, Rosebot is enthralled, and old heroes are on their way to help see him thwarted. Along with the mystery participants of a session we’ve yet to see.

Enough time goes by that she begins to wonder if he’s asleep. But no. It’s just the irritated silence of a man who knows he isn’t currently dressed well enough to attend to something important.

DIRK: Are my fucking pantaloons ready yet?

Yeah, fuck you and your anime pantaloons straight in the Yaois, Dirk Smartass.

Okay!

So that’s the end of the epilogue. BOTH epilogues. And... I like it.

I don’t know why. I mean it was all excellent before, and my stomach’s still a BIT clenchy, but I like it now. I misinterpreted things from the Meat ending, and now everything... everything makes a little more sense. Some things seem resolved, others earned...

And... in a way I feel like I could actually oddly accept, even if there’s never anything that touches on this ever again...

It doesn’t seem “over”. :)

#Homestuck #Homestuck Epilogue #Upd8 #Homestuck Liveblog #bladekindeyewear #BlastYoBoots #Barack Obama

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superleeleehipster · 6 years ago

Text

Why do I ship Caryl?

So this wasn’t something I was planning to write, but after seeing this question come up time and time again, I finally decided to entertain it and meditate over it. Because honestly, this question is more relevant now more than ever:

Why do I ship Caryl?

This person’s comment that I saw on another post asked what I think is a genuine question nowadays, and that is “why does Caryl need to be in love? Everyone knows they have a special bond and they would kill for each other. Why does it need to be romantic?” They weren’t hateful, or spiteful, or saying that this other ship makes more sense. They were just curious.

It’s an even more relevant question now because of Melissa’s recent interview and what she said about Carzekiel and Caryl. She basically stated that Caryl is more important than romance, and they are arguably the person they’re closest with, but it is what it is. And she went on to point out that it’s been proven that she and Ezekiel are happy, and Daryl is happy for her.

Side note: I’m not bothered by what she said about the two b/c I can understand her point of view. She’s tired of being asked the same damn Caryl question over and over again, it’s been going on since season 2 and only vamped up at the start of season 5. She knows about the shipping wars, she knows fans can get riled up over her’s and Norman’s responses over this question, and she’s tired of answering it b/c there’s nothing left to answer (and I’m sure she’s tired of the hate that happens within the fandom, as well as what’s directed at her and norman). Plus, as an actor, I’m sure it bothers her that some people are disregarding/diminishing the Carzekiel bond b/c she’s put her heart into that role. She can’t control the writing, and her job is to follow the script and play her part, which she has, and I’m sure she is proud of what she’s done this filming season. So I’m sure it hurts her to know that ppl are writing off Carzekiel as more of a one sided relationship b/c that’s her hard work. She wants ppl to support her work, no matter how shitty it is, and I get that.

So the question remains, why do I ship Caryl?

I decided to really think on this question and give it a meaningful answer instead of what I usually talk about. So pushing aside all the superficial reasons or reasons that are just on the surface, why do I want them to be together? For one thing, it’s only natural for us humans to categorize things into groups. We do it all the time, even if we’re not thinking about it. Like for me, I put all the shirts and pants and sports bras I use for working out in one drawer, while I’ll put my pajama pants and shirts in a separate drawer. Then I’ll put my underwear, normal bras, and socks in another, etc. We also categorize people, so clicks for example, or how I work in this department while these people work in this department. It’s just human nature to categorize things. Personally, I think that is also the driving reason as to why people start to ship characters on shows, or at the very least debate if “these two will get together” because we like to put things into groups. Now I do understand that there are people who don’t ship at all, and that’s fine. In fact, that commenter was probably one of those people who didn’t understand shipping, and that’s okay. They’re just there for the story and entertainment.

But aside from the natural urge to think “will they/won’t they”, for me I officially began my shipping in season 3 after Carol flirted with Daryl on the bus, though I know many folks began during season 2, and rightfully so. To me, I think part of it was the natural chemistry between Daryl and Carol. It was one of those magical moments you only see once in a blue moon, when not even the writers expected it, but it came to light because of two great actors who caught each other’s wavelength immediately. That kind of chemistry you couldn’t help but want romance to happen because you know it would be explosive, a rarity when it comes to shows nowadays because things have become so predictable. And most actors/tv couples don’t have the amount of chemistry that Melissa and Norman do. The only other characters I can think of who have that chemistry is Jaime and Claire from Outlander, and Mulder and Scully from The X Files... so there's really not that many couples with that kind of electricity between them on tv.

I also wanted Caryl to happen because, to me, it’s the ultimate romantic trope. You have two people who had been abused and beaten for most of their lives, only to find someone who genuinely understands that because it happened to them too. They leaned on each other, whether purposefully or not, and were able to positively influence one another to become better, more confident people. And it was amazing, especially looking at Daryl’s evolution, to see these two people open up and allow themselves to receive comfort, understanding, and love from someone else. Daryl did not like being touched, it was obvious in season 2 when he flinched away from Carol. Now, he on the regular puts an arm around her, and is more than happy to receive her hugs as well as reciprocate them. To me, that’s incredibly beautiful to see two people with similar backgrounds come together like that. And I think it would be the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to everyone who had hurt them to have them fall in love and be happy with each other.

Why is it not enough for them to have a special bond? Because being in love is the closest you can be to someone. It’s something that I think they both deserve to have, and I think it would be extremely powerful if it were Carol and Daryl because they already have such an amazing bond to begin with. Having them become romantic would almost feel like a completion of their bond. It would be like Vegeta and Goku fusing together to become Vegeto, like the ultimate power (geek moment, sorry). Daryl has likely never been “in love” with someone before given his background, so it would be especially beautiful to see it happen for him, and to me, the only person I think he’d trust enough to open himself up for is Carol.

Having said all that, obviously that’s not where the writing is going in the show, which is very disappointing. I have no issues with Zeke, or Khary for that matter. It’s just disappointing that they had Carol get together with someone she hardly knew when she’s known Daryl since the beginning of the Turn. It’s true that there’s a possibility that Caryl is endgame, and it wouldn’t happen till the very end of the series. And maybe they’re those types of couples who really didn’t know they wanted to be together until it just clicks one day (I know two friends like that, where everyone thought they would be together eventually because they were such good friends. But it wasn’t until it just randomly clicked for them one day that they decided to give it a chance. She described it as them hanging out at her house and a lightbulb kind of went off and she just said ‘huh, I really like this guy’, and he wound up having the same thoughts... they’re still together :D).

But for the people who are genuinely curious as to why we ship it and why we’re so disappointed... more than anything, it’s because of a few factors:

1) Our passion for our ship has only grown b/c of the hatred we’ve gotten, and how often we’ve had to defend it. The more often we’ve defended it, the more emotional we become for our ship because we want to protect it. Those emotions we feel any time we have been attacked, or anytime we were disappointed sticks with you, and creates more and more stress for your fandom.

2) We have been trolled hard up until this filming season, and it feels like a slap in the face. Season 5 was amazing for Caryl the most part, but there were problems with the writing for Carol especially after that, and we didn’t have much Caryl screen time since. But the times we did, they were amazing scenes, and they were also the scenes that AMC would give sneak peaks with b/c they know they bring in viewers. That whole situation with Daryl finding Carol in the house was completely useless to the storyline, yet they put the money and the effort to create it. Carol even said that “she couldn’t lose him”, and Daryl made that selfless decision to not tell her about Glenn and Abraham. Then there was last year where amc’s first promotion photo was Caryl, and they published multiple pics of them two after. They had that photoshoot of the longest running cast members and it felt like a freaking prom shoot, with all of them posing together, one of which had the “couples” together. They even published a valentine’s day card with Daryl and Carol on it with a caption that says “true love”. Lennie James had even said that he didn’t think Morgan would have any relationship with Carol, not if Daryl had anything to say about it. Other shows have referenced Caryl before...

Long story short, we did not imagine this. We didn’t see something that wasn’t there. Even now, with AMC using Mcreedus to promote the new season, it just comes to show that they know Caryl brings in viewers. So to have Carzekiel happen is truly painful because they have dangled a piece of meat in front of us for years, only to give it to another ship. And maybe we have it wrong when it comes to Angela Kang. Maybe she didn’t write this and is actually doing us a favor by leaving no room to imagine that anything is going on with Caryl right now b/c she knows that we’ve been trolled a lot. Maybe she’s actually stopping the whole teasing thing, and if that’s the case then I do respect that. I’m not saying that is what’s going on but that’s always a possibility. But it’s really painful for us because we were teased, and we’re still ‘being used’ to this day for promotional reasons yet they’re doing the exact opposite.

It’s like when you’ve fallen in love with someone but they wound up saying they don’t feel the same, but at the end they go “but don’t worry, we can still be friends”... BITCH WHY WOULD I WANT TO BE FRIENDS WHEN I OBVIOUSLY WANTED SOMETHING MORE WITH YOU??!!

... I promise I’m calm.

I actually have a friend who’s a Bethyl shipper, and obviously we don’t see eye to eye with some things but we never talk about it with each other (it’s like politics and family). So when I found out about Carzekiel, I confided in her about it and she related with me. She said they teased Bethyl a bit in season 4, and they technically did. With the hand holding, Daryl carrying Beth around the house they stayed in, and even saying that he’s hopeful now because of her. As a caryl shipper, of course I would’ve argued that was more of a father/daughter bond, but now I can see it from her perspective, and how she felt when Beth died. I might not agree with her ship at all, but she understands what it is like to be trolled by amc only to have her heart ripped out, and she was a nice enough friend to not call me out and actually sympathized with me. And I’m grateful for that because she’s helped me more than she knows to cope with this mess.

Anyways, to put a huge explanation into a small summary: I began shipping Caryl (and I still do) because to me they are an amazing duo with intense chemistry, and they seem to be in perfect sync with each other. Soulmates is the perfect adjective to use to describe them because they just get each other, and they’re so close, it’s amazing to watch it on screen. They’re two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly with each other. Having them become romantic would just be an amazing experience to watch, to see two abused people come together like that and discover what it’s like to be deeply in love with someone. Maybe I have romanticized it when I shouldn’t have, but to have two people so close like that, it’s only natural for me to want them to be together romantically because I know they’d be very happy together.

Am I wrong to be so human?

Anyways, I’d like to hear from other caryl shippers as well. What made you decide to start shipping them. No debates, no hatred for other ships, just a gentle discussion of why we chose this fandom, and how much we loved (and still do) our ship.

#caryl

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ophelialoveshandsomemen · 4 years ago

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S.I.M.P.L.E

A story about Dean having the apple-pie life he’s always wanted. As told by Sam’s perspective. Sometimes. Just roll with it, I wrote this for my own fun. Figured maybe all you lovely people could get a shot at enjoying it too!

Disclaimer. All mistakes are mine. The French-Canadian OFC is mine. The WInchester kids are mine. Dean, Sam and the rest of the SPN cast of characters, unfortunately, are not mine.

I believe @justjensenanddean owns one of the pics in the collage. Maybe… It was a while ago. Nicely let me know if I should take it down. Or if this is illegal or something, tumblr is still mildly confusing to me.

Summary. Sam learns some more about his quirky nephews and beautiful nieces.

Chapter 2: Dean’s Magnificent Family of Seven.

Sam dried off his hair, after his luxuriously long shower, with a towel that smelled vaguely of moss and oranges. It made him wonder if his newly discovered sister-in-law leaves the clothes outside to dry or if she actually uses a soap that is scented like moss and oranges. He did see a washing machine when he passed by the laundry room a little earlier, but he hadn't caught sight of a dryer. Louisa does strike Sam as the slightly more old-school type, so it's very possible that she just doesn't have one. He wonders exactly how old Louisa is, anyway? He's pretty sure that there's no grey in her hair and she was running really fast for a pregnant mother of four. But Sam just can't imagine his big brother to have actually married a woman that much younger than himself. Meh, maybe she simply athletic.

As he cautiously exits the steaming bathroom in the house's spacious and well-lit basement, Sam peeks around the corner to see if any of the kids are hanging about, ready to pounce on him. They aren't shy, that's for sure. He sighs a bit in relief, really, until he sees one of the twins, Robert, he thinks, pad over to him from the den where the two older kids are watching, is that The Magnificent Seven? Oh Dean... Sam crouches down to Robert's level. The boy seems to eye him warily, then leans in to whisper in his ear.

"Pweas, come wi meh. Stasie neeeeds ew!"

Sam nods quickly and lets Robert lead him to a nursery on the other side of the basement, where Anastasie was floating above her crib as she whimpered. Sam gulps. 'Not good.' She turned her head towards Sam and his heart fell into the pit of his stomach. They glowed a very faint blue. The same colour as Michael's... Before Sam could have a nervous breakdown about it though, Robert tugged on his sleeve to pull his ear back down to his level.

"Do't orry bout bue eyeses, aways ave 't. Wo't urtuh. Wan ick up!"

Sam, thankfully caught on to the fact that the kid said she won't hurt him and that she wants to be picked up. As soon as Sam grabbed her, her eyes turned a normal dark brown and her weight dropped into Sam's arms. He heard Robert say 'Tank ew.' and 'Come wi meh.' right before he was left alone with his thoughts in the forest green nursery.

What the hell! Don't be what I think you are!

He went and sat with the kids as they watched The Magnificent Seven, trying to figure out how he was gonna bring this up with Dean, when Marie plopped down beside him and said "Uncle Sammy we need to talk."

"Um, okay. What about Marie?" "What you just saw in the nursery. See, Mama was three months pregnant with Anastasie when Dad got possessed by the bad angel." "Archangel, you nimrod!" John-Henry interrupted from his spot under the hand carved coffee-table where he appeared to be searching for something. "Shut up dirt-bag! Anyway, Mama didn't know about the possession and when Dad sho..." "Or who she thought was Dad!" "I said shut it! Showed up Mommy was a bit confused, but sometimes Daddy acts a bit strange anyways. We were all asleep and didn't see him that night. But the next morning when I woke up Mama was in the kitchen crying and Dad was gone. Seems when Mama and Daddy got "reacquainted" the night before Mommy found out about the angel and how he'd given some weird power glow stick stuff to Anastasie." "It's called 'grace' idiot! And it's still archangel..."

Marie stuck her tongue out at him for that. Sam's head is reeling with information now. Between the fact that, apparently, archangels can turn already conceived children into partial nephilim and the fact that Marie used air-quotes and a metaphor for sex at the age of seven, Sam just didn't know what to think.

"Where are your Mommy and " he swallowed, "Dad?" Sam had never had to call Dean a dad. The word suddenly felt foreign on his tongue.

John-Henry shrugs as he lowers the volume on the movie using the remote he'd been looking for. "Getting reacquainted. Usually takes them twenty or so minutes. Unless Dad's been gone a while, then it can take an hour. That's when Marie and me watch a movie."

I shouldn't have asked...

"And Robert? Doesn't he watch the movie too?" " Robbie likes to sleep instead. Or play with the pool balls on the billiards table behind you." Marie answered.

Course there's a pool table. Did I really expect any less? Next up will be a trampoline and a gun range! Jeez!

"Mama's calling! Time for dinner!" "Yippee!" " You coming, Uncle Sammy?"

Sam must have really been out of it. He hadn't heard Louisa calling at all.

"Yeah, I'm right behind you sweetie..."

The whole family somehow settled down and sat at the heavyset, oblong, wooden table in the kitchen. Which was quite cute, in Sam's opinion. Yellow walls with dark blue trimmings and dark pine cabinets that had deer antlers for handles. Bit clashy maybe. But cute. Bright. It looked like a fairy tale cottage had a baby with a hunter's cabin, to be exact. Sam's attention was caught, again by Marie, when she made a comment about hoping that her Dad hadn't put another twin inside her Mommy like he did for the boys. Louisa snorted her juice out her nose, she was laughing so hard. "Honey," she said after, " I'm not sure that can happen twice to the same mama, so I think you're okay for now."

When Sam gave Dean the dude-what-is-she-saying face, Dean rolled his eyes and took a deep breathe before answering.

"Well apparently, some ladies can get pregnant after they're already, you know, pregnant. John-Henry and Robert were born at the same time, but not, uh, made at the same time. It's why Robert is so much smaller than John-Henry and has a bit of trouble pronouncing. He was on oxygen or some crap like that for a few weeks after he was born because he was technically two and a half months premature. But Johnny here was good to go within a day."

"Lord I hated that labour! Everyone buzzing around like headless goats and moaning on and on about how the babies mightn't make it! I ended up throwing everyone except Dean out of the room before the doctor forced himself back in. Which took just long enough for Robert to be born, then Doctor Ominous insisted on delivering John-Henry. I swore to never darken the door of a maternity ward again afterwards and so far haven't broken that oath, either!" Louisa smiled at Dean. "Lucky for me, I have a husband who is more than willing to stay home with me and bring these little ones into the world."

Louisa fondly kissed Dean at that, the kids giggling in the background as they did. Unfortunately, Louisa leaning over gave Sam the full view of her neck which exposed a blooming hickey. Sam shuddered.

"So, Dean was the one who helped with both of the girls?"

Sam both hoped and dreaded that the flippant question would pull a reaction from either Louisa or Dean which would inform Sam about the whole Micheal-gave -my-baby-sister-voodoo-powers thing. He wasn't disappointed. Dean's face immediately fell and Louisa bit her lips, responding " Technically, Michael delivered Anastasie. But now is not a good time to talk about that."

Supper was served by Louisa. A chili con carni made with beef chunks as well as hamburger. It also had sweet corn and some sort of white corn, possibly native corn, in it. Sam had to admit, for the amount of unhealthy cholesterol in this ungodly meat mix, the chili tasted divine. No wonder Dean was slowly but steadily gaining weight in the last eight years. Not that the diner food helped any either. Sometime in between Marie and John-Henry fighting over Lord knows what and Anastasie puking up half of her steak and peas mush all over Louisa's t-shirt, Robert, who was having a lot of trouble finishing his meal, grabbed his plate and silently slid into Dean's lap. That's when Sam noticed Dean's smile return, after the unwanted attention brought on about Michael. Robert settled in and tightly clung to Dean's waist. Dean wordlessly began to spoon feed him, eating his own chili in between hesitantly taken bites from Robbie. Robert never made a sound...

Sam began to wonder if the boy was naturally clingy or if his silent demeanor and slight anti-sociability was an indication to something else, due to being premature.

Supper ended on a anti-climactic note, in all honesty. Louisa carted Anastasie off to be washed, given gripe water to settle her stomach and set to play in the living room/study beside the kitchen. Marie and JH ran outside, having barely washed their hands forehand, and paying no mind to Dean yelling at them to stay in the yard or so help him. Sam sat back, drinking some unlabelled beer Dean had pulled out of the fridge. He chuckled under his breath at the sight of Robert with his shaggy head tucked beneath Dean's chin. Dean is humming Old Cotton Fields by CCR.

"Dean?" "Hmm?" "When did you and Louisa get married? You are married aren't you?" "Yeah, got married back in 2011, on Louisa's 20th birthday, June 10th. Most of her family refused to come cause she was marrying some no name pool stick slinging drunkard who drove a muscle car and was a little too handy with a shotgun for her mom's liking." Dean's pensive for a moment. "You know, in the end, only her dad and her oldest sister with her family attended. And two of her friends from college, they were the bridesmaids. Got married in a little Catholic church up in North Dakota, where Louisa's from. Legally, we're not really married, since the government thinks I'm dead. Louisa just changed her name." He huffs." Said my name was sexier than hers. Anyways, the priest was so old, he agreed to bless our wedding without the permission of the bishop. Or a marriage licence."

That answers my question about Louisa's age then...

Sam smiles at the thought of his brother, standing at the altar, watching as his bride marches radiantly down the aisle.

"So, her family hated you." Sam laughed "Who would've guessed that?"

Dean chuckled at Sam's sarcasm.

"Bitch." "Jerk."

"I wish I'd been there with you." Dean visibly tightens his hold on Robert, who had fallen asleep a while ago, drool pooling on Dean's t-shirt. "I wish you'd been there too, Sammy..."

Louisa steps back in at this point. She ushers Sam and Dean, still holding his sleeping child, into the living room. Louisa snuggles into Dean's side on the relic couch from the 60's. Sam lounges quite comfortably on the green plaid, cotton upholstered recliner nearby.

Not a word was said for the rest of the evening.

Send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged!

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester has kids #french canadian #catholicism #dean winchester has a family #anti-veganism #some swearing

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masterjslave · 7 years ago

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FinDom and Worship

Here is the third part of my Descent into Servitude of DirtySocks. This was going to be the final part but I’m apparently a bit of a windbag and will need at least one more part.

As I ventured back out into the world of Doms and subs I started doing the same old things that I’d done before: talking to Doms and Masters online, discussing what we wanted from our counterparts, writing dirty emails and messages but never really doing anything about it mainly due to distance.

While I had looked for a Master locally, I hadn’t been particularly successful. I could say that it was simply due to a lack of them in the area. While good Masters are few and far between, the population around here is about 650k so that wasn’t very likely. If I’m being honest I really didn’t try as hard as I could have anyway because I had “committed” to long distance Masters already. But if I’m being honest I was only using them as an excuse to not find something real since it’s so easy to let something long-distance break down and then move on to the next one.

But I eventually grew frustrated with that horrible cycle because I wasn’t getting what I really needed: the feeling that I was serving anyone. What does it even mean to be dominated if you aren’t serving the Dominator? I couldn’t be someone’s sex slave or houseboy when I lived hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away from them and other long-distance relationship staples, e.g. sexting, weren’t fulfilling my need either. I didn’t want to jerk off after talking about how I would serve someone if I were with them in person. I wanted to actually do something meaningful to make a Superior’s life better.

Now, while I’d been looking around on Tumblr, I’d stumbled across a few posts that had one theme which seemed to strike me as odd when I first encountered them. They were posts where the theme was slaves or subs lavishing their Superiors with gifts. This was in stark contrast to the image I head built up in my head over the years as to what a Master/slave relationship would look like. My ideal slave behavior was more like a live-in houseboy. Master would go to work, the slave would stay at home, take care of house, do whatever other chores their Master wanted them to do and then be a sex-kitten/stress reliever if desired by Master at night. It was inconceivable that a slave could even possess the ability to lavish gifts upon their owner. I’d had that singular image of servitude ingrained into mind so deeply that I hadn’t even tried to imagine a different path to service.

So in my time of darkest discontent, those images of laying gifts at my Master’s feet began to plague my mind more and more. I hadn’t served anyone in real life so far due to my own self sabotaging but gifts could be sent regardless of location. Through tribute I had no excuse not to serve my Superiors. However, I didn’t do anything immediately. I mean, how stupid would I have to be to send a gift or, god forbid money, to someone I’d never met in person. I mean, only the most pathetic type of person would ever do that.

However, after many days and weeks of the thought growing in my mind I decided to give it a shot out of curiosity. What’s the worst that could happen, I asked myself? I would purchase an item off of a Superior’s Amazon Wishlist, something not particularly expensive, and I could see how it would make me feel. Worst case scenario, I’m out 30 bucks and someone else has an early Christmas present from an admirer.

So I did it, and I was not prepared for all of the emotions that I would feel with such a simple act. My heart was pounding the entire time, while browsing through the wishlist items all the way through checkout. When I actually submitted the order it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I’d actually done it. I’d given up something of mine and sent it to someone else with no expectation of recompense. It wasn’t forced, the opportunity to serve had just been lain before me and I’d taken it. The thrill was so intense that I could barely contain myself. You might think I’m going to say that I immediately started jerking off afterwards but that couldn’t be further from the case. I was in such a state of shock and debilitating emotion that I could hardly think straight, let alone figure out what the floppy bit of meat tube between my legs was.

After the high wore off, for days I thought about what I’d done. I tried to make sense of the emotions that I’d experienced. Were they good or bad? They most certainly weren’t indifferent. Should I try it again? No, that would be stupid, only pathetic people do that sort of thing to begin with, let alone more than once. I wasn’t that much of a sucker, was I? To be duped into doing something like that again.

Until I found myself back on Amazon perusing that same Wishlist, looking for the next thing to buy for that Superior. I couldn’t help myself, I had to see if I would feel that deluge again. But this time when I submitted the order I didn’t have the violently extreme rush of emotions like I’d had the first time. I had a rush, that was for sure, but it wasn’t as discombobulating as it had been the first time. I wasn’t in a state of shock and I could actually contemplate how I truly felt about the whole ordeal. And it was definitively good. The accomplishment that I experienced, knowing that I had done something to serve a Superior even from so far away was immeasurable. I couldn’t believe that I had denied myself that pleasure for so long.

From that moment onward I was hooked. It’s still hard for me to comprehend how quickly I became addicted to that feeling. My interactions with Superiors had taken on a whole new meaning. It wasn’t child’s play anymore I was in the big leagues. I was actually doing something to make my Superior’s lives better and they knew I was serious because I was literally putting my money were my mouth was. No more empty words, no more wasting our time because I was doing something real, doing something that would show I was truly worth devoting time to. I’d let my Superiors and, more importantly, myself down so many times in the past with my cowardice, my lack of confidence in who I was and who I wanted to be, but that was all coming to an end.

That’s how I came to understant that it really was about power. Over the years I had been so non-committal, scared to truly give up any control that I had turned my life into a miserable series of disappointed expectations and regrets. It was destroying me. I had known what I needed deep down inside me for a while by that point and I had only just begun to truly live it. I couldn’t remember ever having felt so empowered in all my life having given myself the permission to do what needed to be done. And for a while I reveled in my servitude to many Masters, to whom I am eternally grateful.

But then, I saw a post of Him on Tumblr with a tag from Instagram: dirtysocks009. I immediately downloaded Instagram and looked him up. I’d finally found this mystery man who had been the source of many a foot fantasy for a couple of years. I found His Tumblr and, along with His Instagram, I had a few of the best nights pleasuring myself to His beautiful feet and handsome face that I’d ever had. I’d found my true Superior and I was in heaven. But I felt like I needed to do something to thank Him for being so gracious to post such amazing pics for slaves like me to enjoy. That’s when I took the first step down a path that I’d never imagined myself on…

Thank you for sticking with me this long if you’ve gotten this far. I’ve finally gotten through my story of self-discovery. In the next part I will recount in detail exactly how my servitude to DirtySocks has played out since I met Him,

If you’re enjoying this series, please reblog it so that others might benefit from my real life experiences. And as always I appreciate if you tell DirtySocks that you’re enjoying my story by sending Him a message on Instagram, Tumblr, or gmail @dirtysocks009.

DirtySocksFootBoy

#descent into servitude

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adaapadengankasih · 4 years ago

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16 august 2020

we met again today (with a bunch of friends), around the same time for 3 consecutive years. i was nervous, indeed, the moment i knew ure coming along but tried so hard to keep it cool. waited depan seoul garden toppen, u were the last one to arrive. i tried to not look at you, avoiding any eye contact at all cost and i did. it was fun, catching up with ur best high school peeps after so long while grilling meats. it feels like im home again. she sat at the furthest corner from me as she was the first to come into the restaurant. as predicted, we didnt talk, at all and lowkey didnt look forward to it pun cuz shes being she. my seat was beside aini, busy grilling the meat and couldnt even hear what they were talking about but aini pointed me towards her and the whole table laughed. thank God it didnt turn out to be awkward. i could see her from my seat, avoiding any eye contact still, keep myself busy grilling meats and squids. after that i got up to have sum ice creams, then the others asked me to refill their drinks including her but she didnt asked me directly, she just handed me her cup with a gaze of “pls refill my drink too” and she simply said “nak coffee”. still keeping my cool, refilled the drinks, gave them back and she said “thank you”. THAT WAS THE ONLY TIME WE EVER TALKED THE WHOLE TIME WE LEPAK TOGETHER. after that we went to bowling and karaoke. bowling was meh but the 3 hours karaoke session was the bomb. u sat at the furthest corner, and i sat at the opposite corner, again. “ada cable tak” as u asked everyone and no one responded but i could hear her. lowkey surprised God moved my heart to bring along my cable so i handed it through asilah, to her (i think she didnt know that was mine). chosen some high-school bop songs AND at the queue there was jetlagged by simple plan and natasha beddingfield (i didnt chose that song). it bugged my head for a while as it used to be “our” song but wtv im just gonna enjoy the moment. there was like a small platform with a standing 80′s microphone and it became my stage immediately. i let it all out by singing all of the songs i think i was like a drunkard who came back from work. inaz cussed at me all the time due to my “nyanyi tak sedap” but everyone just laughed it off. THEN i think i caught her looking at me. i tak nak syok sendiri but i swear i saw it. myb she has never seen that side of me. most of the song were bieber’s and taylor’s where we used to dedicate the lyrics to each other (idk if she remembers) but to get to sing the songs i used to dedicate to her, in front of her was something my old 15 years old would ever thought of doing so. it feels like i wasnt shy at all in front of her, it feels like the high wall has disappeared for a moment, it feels like finally we are friends. never thought i could sing next to you, overboard, jetlag and that should be me at the top of my lungs, in front of her without feeling awkward at all, and the best part was that we sing together (couldnt remember what song it was as i was too immersed in singing). ended the day with all of us took sum pics together and a group hug. it was really fun though we didnt really talk to each other. for that im still sad, yes but also eternally grateful for God to give me another chance to see her again, at the same month of the year. thank u God for granting my doa, even the moment only lasted for a few hours x

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theheaterishotjournals · 4 years ago

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06/16/2020

Statuses

Me: Alright, I guess? Feel stupid? I dunno. Numb? Depression numb? Sunflower Charlie: So tall. Daniel can’t even reach the top. 7′ now?? Gonna bloom soon. Sunflower George: Almost reaches Charlie. Rivals. Sunflower Miriam: 4 blooms! Gonna get more. Bees all the time, so cute. Yellow jackets, less cute. But good for pest control. Tomato: They’re starting to grow. More flowers coming. Needs pruning. Mint: Needs pruning. Keeps getting eaten by bugs. Money plant: After the sun burning, growing so many buds now. Growing nicely. Bigger pot?? Rubber Plant: Doing well. Pachira: Better now that the fan isn’t pointing at it. Palm: Surprisingly alive. Succulents: All good. Đậu Đen: She’s doing good. Healthy. God, I hope she ain’t pregnant.

Dear you,

Today I went to work, still depressed. Elliot was kind enough to ask how I was doing and give me advice. I love Elliot. I don’t care what the rest of the crew says. I’m thankful for him.

Ervin told me he had to call out on Friday as well. He has hypertension. He keeps eating red meat though. I’m worried about him. I wish he could stay forever but come August, a new rotation.

Jeff wore a new hat today. It was, like. A golf cap? Instead of his usual cowboy hat. It looked good on him! I also appreciate Jeff.

Did runs. Easy day. Picked up Hydrogen Sulfide detector. The jambalaya Daniel made was so delicious. I love that he helps me get my lunch ready. I love Daniel.

Daniel kept sending me pics of the kitten today. I was so excited to see her. The second work ended, I drove home and ran straight to her (after dealing with mail). She seemed so quiet and lazy. It got me worried. It surprised me to roll her over and see 12 toes on her hind legs. Daniel said not to worry, she was probably napping. I couldn’t help but worry. Worry’s my middle name. Thanks to anxiety. He was trying to get me to calm down and convincing me to eat.

While eating, I tried to calm down. Told him to put on spongebob. But I kept thinking about what I had read online. The lethargy. Kittens were supposed to have energy. Her gums looked white. She meowed weakly.

Daniel could tell I was worried. He went out and got Đậu Đen and brought her inside. We had her and her kitty meet. It looked like the kitty kept trying to rub up on her and Đậu Đen kept walking off. It made me cry, I thought she was trying to abandon her. Daniel calmed me down, saying I was just being reminded me of my childhood. Eventually, the kitten kept rubbing up on her mom and Đậu Đen kept licking her like crazy. I felt so much relief.

We watched the two. The kitten kept weakly going up on her mom. Đậu Đen licked her, ate, and would walk off. I was wondering if we should get the kitten back to Đậu Đen but she wouldn’t take her. We called a hospital earlier, the hospital said hard to tell if it was an emergency and that walk ins would end soon.

I still didn’t feel right. I looked up a 24 hour animal hospital. I told her she was weak. Then I thought about it and told Daniel to tell them the kitten seemed like she was breathing hard. They said it didn’t sound right. We loaded her up in the cat carrier and took her to the car.

Đậu Đen walked with us, we tried to see if she wanted to come in the car with us. She didn’t. I figured ‘cause she had the other two kittens to worry about. We made off to the hospital.

There was a car there before us. A white couple with a beagle. I noticed the girl wiping away tears. It was hard to see. I wondered if we were taking up valuable timer with our kitten.

The hospital staff quickly came out and retrieved the kitten. We waited in the car. They quickly called us and said they needed a $500 deposit to get some vitals up. No info on what was wrong. I took a deep breath. I made a lot of money now but $500 was still nothing to sneeze at. I looked at Daniel, he said it was my money. I thought about how I had $2200 in checking and $3k in savings. I said to go for it.

I took out my embroidery. We joked around. I listened to a podcast. I felt bad joking around while the girl in the car next to us was crying.

Daniel and I had decided to name the cat. Noticing she was polydactyl on her hind legs, she had 12 toes total. Daniel decided to dub her Doce, the Spanish word for 12. I had named Đậu Đen so it only seemed fair to have one with a Viet name and one with a Spanish name.

Another call. They took down some info, transferred me to the doctor for the low down. The doctor explained Doce had been infested with fleas. She was a tiny cat, less than 5 weeks. With not much blood to spare, the fleas had sucked her down to nearly nothing. She asked if I had fed her. I told her just sugar water that we fed with a plastic syringe like thing we had used to give Đậu Đen her antibiotics. Then some salmon/water cat treat. I was on the verge of tears telling her this. I thought the doctor was gonna get mad I couldn’t feed her enough.

The doctor merely asked if she ate those things. I told her she did, the cat had licked at them. I think it was a good sign, that it meant Doce still had some energy. The doctor said the kitten was in critical health, knocking on death’s door. It was a good thing we had brought her in. They asked if I was willing to care for the cat, I said I was. She transferred me to billing.

While we were on hold, I joked with Daniel I hope it wasn’t $2k, knowing how much I had in the bank.

The billing went down.

“The doctor would like to do this test, that is $200. Then a fecal test for parasites. Another $200.”

As she listed the items, my stomach dropped.

The kitten had to be in an oxygen tent. $500. Luckily, she was small so IV would be cheap. Cheap as in $130. Another several hundred for transfusion. Another several hundred for blood test.

It went on and on and my stomach was clenched.

“Total comes to around $2,008. Not including the $500 you had put in as deposit earlier. The complete total is $2,508. What would you like to do?”

Was it expectations? Was it my inability to turn people down? I said yes. But I mentioned that I did not have enough in the bank. The billing lady said I could apply for carecredit.

I immediately remembered the first time I applied for carecredit. I was making $9,000 a year. I had severe dental problems and the dental bill was $1,200. I cried at the dentist’s office. I couldn’t afford it. CareCredit gave no interest for up to two years if you could pay within then. I was so thankful, I thanked them profusely even if they had nothing to do with it.

I looked at Daniel. He shrugged and told me it was my money.

With no hesitation, I went on my phone and applied. We called billing. It was all good. The nurse loved Doce’s name. Everyone marveled at the credit limit I was given. I felt somewhat good and happy about that.

The hospital said we could go home. They handed us the bill. 4 weeks and 3 days, they estimated Doce’s age.

Daniel went to go get the bill. The couple next to us, I guess they were finally called to bring the dog in. The guy opened the girl for the girl, banged the door on my car. I saw her cradle her dog and hurriedly left. I couldn’t care less they banged my car. I was mad, briefly, like, hey, wtf. Pay attention. But I saw the dog. Remember my car was dinged up anyways. Felt bad I was upset. Told Daniel. He also didn’t care, he also saw how they felt about their dog.

On the way to get gas, I realized by the time we got home, I’d have nearly 0 hours to relax. I told him he couldn’t tell anyone I spent this much. He agreed. He could tell I felt ashamed. Told me it was my money. Not in a way he didn’t care. But that this was what I wanted to make money for. I wanted to care for others. I wanted to donate most of my money. I’m saving a cat and I was looking for a pet. This is perfect. I asked what if the doctor says the kitten belongs to her mom? He said he’ll try to ask the vet if there’s any way we can keep her. Since it seems she got infested with fleas. We’ll find a way.

I hope so. I hope we can keep her but I just want her to be happy and healthy.

I felt dumb and stupid and insane for dropping this much money on a stray cat I’ve just met. I had to talk to Nevi. Nevi calmed me down, said it wasn’t a waste. 12 years of a cat’s life, this was nothing. I saw my money and knew it wasn’t completely necessary for now. I budgeted for it. I saw the value of the money going toward the cat. He helps me so much. I love Nevi with all my heart as well.

I watered my plants. I couldn’t sleep. I should be sleeping right now for work tomorrow but I’m too energized and nervous.

I don’t believe in God, but Daniel saw me do the sign of the cross in the car waiting to hear back on the news for the cat. Even being an agnostic, I find comfort in believing in a higher power.

I told him he knows I don’t believe in God but does he think God sent the kitten to us? Knowing we could help her? That’s why Đậu Đen tried ot get us to see her kittens. That’s why she left the kitten with us? ‘Cause after the antibiotics, she felt better and she knew we could help her? Did she know? Did God send her right when we were looking for pets, not having one yet, so we had extra money to care for her?

Did believing in God make me feel less guilty about spending the money on her? I think it did.

I donated money earlier this week to grassroots organizations that supported BLM. I hope to keep donating more money to those organizations per paycheck.

I hope that everyone stays happy and healthy. That there’s more community resources. I hope Doce survives and we can take her home and show her to Đậu Đen and Đậu Đen can see how happy and healthy she is. I hope we can be a happy and healthy family.

I love Daniel. I love Nevi. I am going to stay up and do some craft work. I love Daniel even though he’s making me shower in fear of fleas and I hate him for that.

I go to tomorrow with hope things turn out well. And work goes out well. And Ervin stops listening to conspiracy theories and takes care of himself. I hope BLM works out and we get changes we need. I hope I get enough rest tonight so I can work well tomorrow so I can make money for the cats and for Daniel and for my future pet dog.

I hope for everyone’s health and happiness.

-Vi

#mental health #cats

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