#If you WANT me to go nuts over something you can bait me with interesting concepts but tbh

[hajihiko]

"why don't you talk about-" either a) I don't have thoughts I can comprehensively write down right now, or b) I just don't feel like it.

[sincerelyneo]

igloo | h.rj

“i make him lose his cool, yeah i make him go…”

💿now playing: igloo by kiss of life

❯ summary: No Nut November is stupid—so why is your boyfriend making a bet with Hyuck that he can last the longest? Surely he doesn’t want to actually deprive himself from sex with you for a month? Surely he’s not serious…? Oh, he is. That won’t do.

❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut

❯ words: 4.1k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, petty stupid argument, slight angst, female masturbation, voyeurism, premature ejaculation, begging, slight sub!renjun, lots of teasing, reader uses she/her pronouns, basically just renjun agreeing to a stupid bet and y/n making him regret it

“Personally,” Hyuck says, throwing his hands up confidently, “I think I’d last the longest. Strong willpower and all that, you know?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, swatting him with a light smack on the back of the head. “No, you wouldn’t. You can’t go five minutes without emptying your balls, slut.”

Hyuck growls, winding up to smack him on the back, but he stops short as you stroll into the living room, a few cans of beer balanced in your hands. You drop them onto the coffee table with a loud thud, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

“What are you idiots arguing about now?”

This was how every Friday night hangout went with your boyfriend and his friends. Laughter, drinks, and memories in the making—until Hyuck and Renjun would start bickering. Hyuck started it every time on purpose, and without fail, your boyfriend would take the bait, falling right into his trap.

And when you say fall right in, you mean it. They’re so wrapped up in each other’s throats that neither even acknowledge your question. You turn to Jisung, who shrugs and mutters something about No Nut November. Your mouth drops open in an “oh.”

“I’m just saying, I’d last the longest out of all you boys,” Hyuck insists, crossing his arms lazily.

“Bullshit!”

Hyuck’s brows knit together. “Oh, so you think you could last longer, Junnie?”

“Without question,” Renjun scoffs. “I’d last longer than you in every single way.”

Hyuck scowls. And perhaps it’s the double meaning in Renjun’s words that has him snapping, or just his overall general competitive streak, but all of a sudden he has no interest in dropping this argument or backing down. 

“Are you challenging me, Huang Renjun?”

Renjun grins, leaning forward. “I mean, if you’re asking…”

You can’t believe Renjun is even entertaining the idea. No Nut November is stupid on a good day, let alone when someone has a girlfriend, you think. But it’s downright laughable when that someone happens to be your boyfriend—and the two of you go at it like rabbits.

Hyuck smirks, his gaze flickering from you to your boyfriend with a glint of mischief. “Oh, I’m definitely asking. Let’s see,” he drawls, leaning back with an exaggerated grin. “Which one of us can last the longest this month, loser owes the other $1000?”

“Done.”

You stare at Renjun, your mouth slightly ajar. “Done?” you echo, your tone fuming. He doesn’t even flinch, too busy locking eyes with Hyuck like it’s some weird standoff: men and their egos. 

“Renjun,” you say, sharper now, catching his attention. His eyes flicker over to you, and for a split second, you think he might come to his senses. “You’re my boyfriend. My boyfriend,” you emphasise. “You just basically agreed to not have sex with me for an entire month.”

“Well technically, you can have sex but he just can’t cum—”

“Not now, Jisung!” You snap. 

Hyuck bursts out laughing, clapping his hands like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all year. “Oh, I sooo have this in the bag,” he cackles. “And Renjun, you can’t take it back now. We shook on it—well, metaphorically. I have witnesses.” 

Renjun pales slightly, glancing between you and Hyuck. “I—uh—” he stammers, but Hyuck cuts him off, wagging a finger mockingly. 

“Nope! Rules are rules, Junnie. You’re in this now…unless you wanna forfeit—”

“No!”

You cross your arms, fixing Renjun with a glare. “So, let me get this straight. You’re really going to prioritise this over your girlfriend?”

“It’s not like that!” Renjun says quickly, looking genuinely panicked now. “It’s just—Hyuck started it!”

“Hyuck started it?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your excuse? Are we in middle school?”

“No–baby–I–” Renjun stutters. “I just—You know what he’s like. He’d never let me hear the end of it if I said no.”

“Oh, I still won’t,” Hyuck chimes in, grinning ear to ear. “Because there’s no way you’re making it through this, Junnie. Not when your girl looks like that.” Hyuck gestures toward you with a smirk, clearly enjoying every second of this.

Renjun glares at him, a growl of anger leaving his lips, but you’re quick to interject. “So you’re risking $1,000 and pausing our entire sex life for a month—because you can’t handle Hyuck’s teasing?”

Renjun winces. “When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”

“That’s because it is bad,” you shoot back. “What are you even trying to prove? That you have more self-control than Hyuck? Congratulations, Renjun. Everyone already knows that.”

Hyuck gasps, feigning offence by clutching his fists to his chest. “Wow, Y/N. You wound me.”

“I’m sure you’ll live,” you retort dryly because he’s pissed you off just as much.

Renjun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s just a month. It’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?” you cut him off. “You do realise this affects me too, right?” You throw your hands up, standing to your feet. “Fine. You know what? Do whatever you want. But if you even think about caving, just remember—you’ll owe Hyuck $1,000 and me an apology.”

With that, you grab your beer and stomp out of the living room, leaving Renjun to stew. Hyuck leans back, grinning smugly before turning to Jisung. “I give him three days.”

Jisung nods thoughtfully. “I’m thinking two.”

Renjun manages to last two weeks without cumming—a new record since the two of you started dating, though it’s hardly an accomplishment. When your girlfriend is mad at you, it’s easy not to cum—mainly because you weren’t offering.

You weren’t outright ignoring him, but your usual affection had taken a sharp nosedive. No lingering kisses, no teasing touches, no late-night “accidental” brushes under the covers. It was like you’d put him on lockdown—and, annoyingly, he was thankful for it.

That pissed you off even more.

Here you were, trying to make a point, and Renjun was treating it like some kind of twisted blessing. He wasn’t sulking, wasn’t apologising profusely like he usually would. Instead, he seemed…relieved, like your passive-aggressive cold shoulder was doing him a favour.

It especially pissed you off one night when Renjun came back from dance practice, his shirt clinging to his torso, sweat beading on his forehead, and his eyes glazed over in exhaustion. Usually, when he came home like that—when it wasn’t No Nut November—you’d order takeout, settle on the sofa, and have lazy couch sex, no effort, no stress.

But not tonight.

No, because it is No Nut November and he agreed to it. So instead of collapsing into your arms, he takes himself upstairs, barely sparing you a glance, getting straight in the shower and tossing on a pair of grey sweatpants—torture, you think—and sits himself down in front of his PC, clicking at the keyboard as he logs online

He. Pisses. You. Off.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you snap, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him as he spins his chair around to face you on the bed.

He raises an eyebrow, pulling his headphones off and letting them hang loosely around his neck. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t miss me touching you, do you?” 

“Baby,” he starts, his voice low and soft, “That’s not true—”

“Really?” You tilt your head. “Because it sure feels true.”

Renjun runs a hand through his hair. “I do miss you. I miss you a lot, okay? But you’re mad at me, and I know I deserve it...so I wanted to give you space.”

You shake your head, “That feels oddly convenient.”

“I promise you it’s not,” he sighs, cautiously sliding closer. “How about this… is there anything I can do to at least try and make it up to you?”

You arched an eyebrow. “That depends. Are you planning on sticking to this ridiculous bet?”

He hesitates, and you can practically see the war waging in his head. “...Hyuck will never let me live it down if I back out,” he admits sheepishly.

You groan, sinking back against the headboard. “You’re actually unbelievable.”

Renjun doesn’t make a move to comfort you, doesn’t try to touch or reach for you. He knows you’re pissed, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to drop this stupid fucking bet. His eyes flicker to you for a split second, and even though you're giving him nothing but cold, angry silence, he can’t help but think how fucking cute you look when you're this worked up.

You’re absolutely right to be mad. He’s an idiot. He misses you so much, misses your lips, your touch, your smile. 

Fuck, he feels his resolve starting to crack, and so he spins around in his chair, putting all his attention back on his game and not on your pretty little pout. His fingers hit the keyboard aggressively. And although his eyes stay glued to the screen, he can feel the heat of your stare drilling into the back of his head.

Unbelievable, you think.

He’s really doing this. Pretending like he doesn’t care that you're right there, seething and beautiful and willing. You can see the tension in his shoulders, how his jaw tightens whenever he thinks you’re not looking. He needs this, needs you but he won’t let himself because he’s been in a dick swinging competition with Lee Donghyuck since he met him. 

It pisses you off—at first. But then the anger twists into something darker, bolder. Maybe it’s the frustration of going a week without him, or maybe it’s just the pure, unfiltered horniness. Either way, your patience snaps. 

You didn’t agree to this no-orgasms-for-a-month bullshit. You had nothing to lose. You didn’t need to punish yourself. 

If Renjun won’t help you, fine. You’ll just have to take care of it yourself.

The thought is intoxicating, and once it’s in your head, there’s no shaking it. You shift against the headboard, eyes locked on his back. He’s been insufferable, sure, but the memory of him coming home sweaty and dishevelled—so fucking hot—has you pent up.

Your fingers brush your lips, and you can almost feel his again. Wet. Hungry. God, you’ve missed stumbling into bed together, tugging at his clothes and fighting for breath. You’ve missed the warmth of his body, and Renjun was always warm; the way he feels against you—scorching, consuming, addictive. He’s practically a fire hazard for your senses.

Your hand trails down, teasing over your chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric as you imagine it’s his touch. He could be doing this—should be doing this—but he won’t. Because you both know it wouldn’t stop there.

You let out a slow breath, the ache between your thighs growing more unbearable with every passing second. It’s the closest you’ve been to sex for the past two weeks and still, Renjun hasn’t looked at you once, his focus stubbornly locked on his stupid game. 

The memory of him murmuring “Look, it’s just a month,” as he ran a hand through his hair flashes through your mind, and it makes you want to scream. He had no idea how badly you’d need him, how badly you’d miss him, and how much it would hurt when he started pulling away. Or maybe he did and perhaps he was being selfish. 

But that’s okay, because you were about to do your own version of self-indulgence. 

Your hands drift to your thighs, nails raking lightly against your skin as you glare at his back. He hasn’t even flinched, acting like he can’t feel the fire you’re staring into his hair. 

You start slow—fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties, the warmth pooling low in your stomach making you shiver. You bite your lip as you press down harder, a sharp pang of pleasure hitting you as you add a small amount of pressure. The thought of him watching, of him finally snapping and turning around, sends a thrill straight through you. But he doesn’t move. 

You want him to move. 

You try parting your lips with a quiet sigh to get his attention—hands still teasing yourself, slipping under the waistband of your underwear. You know exactly how to touch yourself, how to work your body into a frenzy. But it’s not enough—it’s never enough—not when you know how much better it feels when it’s him.

When he still doesn’t look, your last ounce of patience snaps. Fine, if he wants to ignore you, you’ll make damn sure he can’t.

Your hand moves to the nightstand, yanking open the drawer with just enough force to make it rattle. You grab the vibrator—the vibrator, the one he’d bought you for your birthday with that smug little grin, saying he wanted to “make things interesting.” Well, you plan on making tonight very interesting.

This isn’t for fun. This is revenge, pure and simple.

You lean back against the headboard, spreading your legs just enough to get comfortable, the cool air hitting your heated skin. Your thumb presses the button, and the low buzz fills the room, cutting through the quiet. It’s barely louder than a whisper, but it’s enough to make Renjun’s fingers pause mid-keystroke, his entire body going still.

Good.

You don’t even look at him. Not yet. Instead, you drag the toy against your inner thigh, a soft moan slipping past your lips, breathy and deliberate, as you let your head fall back, eyes fluttering shut.

And then, just like you planned, he turns. And when he sees you—legs spread, vibrator in hand—his eyes go impossibly wide.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

You hum softly, dragging the toy up your thigh with evil slowness. Your lips part with a quiet gasp, and his breath hitches audibly. “I’m watering the plants. What does it look like I’m doing!?”

“Y/N,” he tries again, this time more forceful, his eyes shooting to the ceiling as he takes a long deep breath. His hand clenches the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “I’m serious. Turn that off.”

You finally meet his gaze, expression dripping with mock innocence as you scoff. “Why? I never agreed to No Nut November. I can entertain myself all I like.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. You can see the panic flickering in his eyes, the video game in the background long abandoned flashing with the ‘respawn’ screen as a flush creeps up his neck. You can tell he is desperately trying to hold onto whatever self-control he has left. So far, No Nut November had been surprisingly easy for him—mostly because you’d been at each other’s throats all week. But now? With you looking like this? He’s fucked.

“Y/N, I mean it,” he warns, his voice shaky. His gaze darts to the vibrator in your hand, then to the way your legs are spread, and then back to your face. You can tell he’s trying not to look, but his resolve is cracking with every passing second.

You shake your head, biting your lip as you trace the toy over your clothed clit. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. You don’t miss the way his hand twitches like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you as you whimper. 

“You know…you could always just look away,” you say with a shrug, your tone light, teasing. “Unless, of course, you like watching.”

His eyes snap to yours, panic flashing behind them, but there’s no hiding the way his chest is rising and falling faster now. The blush staining his cheeks deepens as he shifts again, and your eyes drop—just for a second—to the bulge straining against his pants.

Like you said, those grey sweatpants are torture and you can see everything. It only spurs you on to pull your panties to the side and run the buzzing toy between your slick wet folds. The first real contact has you gasping, your back arching slightly against the headboard, and Renjun visibly twitches in his chair.

“Y/N, I’m warning you,” he tries again, but his voice is shaky, almost pleading.

“Warning me?” You echo. “What are you gonna do, huh? It’s not like you can do anything. You’re just gonna sit there and play your game while I get myself off because of a stupid dumb bet.”

His hand flexes against the armrest, his breathing ragged now, and you know you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

“Go on,” you taunt, your voice dropping lower, dripping with mockery. “Prove how much self-control you have. Or…” You trail off, letting another soft moan spill from your lips, your eyes locked on his. “You can always give up that stupid bet and come help me.”

Renjun moves before he can stop himself, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he stands. His body betrays his mind, the bulge in his sweats unmistakable as he strides toward you, breath shallow with desperation. 

Fuck the bet. Fuck Hyuck. He just wants to fuck you. 

“Alright, fine,” he growls, “You’ve made your point. Just—just stop, let me—”

But before he can close the distance, before he can even get a touch of what he’s been missing, you press your foot firmly against his chest, halting him mid-step. His eyes widen, lips parting as he gasps, completely caught off guard by the sudden force of it. For a long moment, he stands frozen, confused.

“Hmmm, I’ve changed my mind,” you say in a low voice. “You don’t get to make the rules and then break them the second you get hard. Sit. Back. Down.”

“Y/N,” he whines, the sound ragged and desperate. His hands hover around you like he doesn’t know whether to push forward or pull back. “I thought—”

You simply smirk, leaning back into the headboard with an air of defiance, your leg still pressed against his chest, keeping him in place and giving him a perfect view of your open-spread legs. The vibrator hums between your thighs, and you can feel his gaze searing into you, his eyes flicking down to where it rests beneath your wet soaked panties.

Fucking torture.

You drag the vibrator over yourself with steady, careful motions, breath hitching as you lean into the sensation (slightly making a show of it to tease him further). “You wanted to prove you could last, didn’t you? Prove it. Watch me.” You purr. 

He groans, his head tilting back as his hands curl into tight fists, helpless and frustrated. “You’re fucking cruel,” he mutters, his voice strained, barely keeping it together.

“Am I?” you tease, your words laced with finger-licking venom. “You’ve been avoiding me for days, Renjun. Ignoring me, turning your back, all for a stupid bet with Hyuck? Now you get to feel exactly how I’ve felt.”

His jaw clenches as his hips shift, the fabric of his sweats doing nothing to hide his need. His eyes lock on yours, pleading, his chest rising and falling with erratic breaths. “Y/N, please.”

“Please what?” you taunt. “Please stop? Please let you touch me?” You press the vibrator harder against yourself, letting out a loud, shaky moan, and his knees nearly buckle as you continue, your smirk growing as you watch him unravel. 

His body trembles, a curse escaping him as he sinks back into the chair, defeated and desperate, fighting the urge to touch you, to do something, anything. Renjun’s never felt a tightness in his body like this before. His muscles are tense, every inch of him on fire, but it’s not the good kind of heat—it’s raw and painful, like his body’s been caught in a vice that won’t let go. His breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps, every shift only intensifying the ache. The throb is relentless. 

"Y/N, please," he whines desperately, the plea barely a whisper, but you hear it. He looks so broken, so beautiful, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to regain some shred of control. 

You smirk at his desperate pleas, the sound making your heart race faster. You’ve never seen him this far gone for you, and knowing you've been the one to drive him to the edge like this—it’s a rush.

You spread your legs even wider, the cool air of the room hitting you and you moan as you pull your panties down and toss them aside. He stares at you—eyes wide, face flushed, lips parted—as you slide your fingers between your slick folds. You’re so wet already, so hot, and all it takes is the combination of cool air and the vibrator on your clit to have you soaring. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes fluttering as you arch against the toy in your hand. “God, I’m so close.”

He groans in response, hips shifting against the chair as he fights the urge to move, his body desperate for friction, for any kind of touch.

“Y/N, please,” he tries again, voice so thick with need. “Let me help. Please. Let me—”

You press harder, your entire body starting to tingle as you drive yourself closer to the edge. His own hips roll desperately, and you wonder how close he is too. He doesn’t even need a hand, it seems. His body’s already learning to react without stimulation—and it would be his own fault for blue balling himself for two weeks. The thought of it almost sends you over the edge, but you want to draw this out a bit longer.

“Nope,” you grunt, breathy moans escaping you as your hand speeds up. “No touching.”

His breath hitches. “Fuck, you’re so fucking cruel,” he pants, his body writhing in the chair. His face is flushed, eyes wild, and you can tell he's not far from losing it completely.

You smirk. “And you’re so fucking desperate,” you reply. “So close, aren’t you? And I haven’t even touched you.”

He nods, his hips rolling desperately as he clutches the edge of the chair, knuckles going white with tension. You can almost feel the ache in his body as he strains against himself, fighting against his own needs.

Your eyes flick to where his sweats are straining and you let out a small whimper at the sight. God, he’s so big, and you can practically imagine him thrusting against you, his cock sliding in deep with a rough, possessive motion. Fuck you’ve missed that. You gasp, your body clenching around nothing, and you swear you can feel his touch on you, all over, everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“God,” you whisper, your hand moving the toy faster against your clit. “God, fuck—Renjun,” your voice breaks on his name, “Fuck, I’m close.”

His hips snap forward, his back bowing against the chair. “Oh fuck,” he moans, his eyes wide as they stare straight into yours. “Fuck, baby. So pretty—”

You cum with a sharp cry, your hand spasming against yourself as your body trembles through the orgasm. Renjun watches—desperate and hungry—for every second of it, just the sound of your orgasm sending his own body to the edge.

“God, yes,” he groans, eyes closing with a harsh curse. “Fuck, yes. Y/N, fuck, yes.”

You open your eyes to see him bucking in the chair, his body shaking as he stares at you—wide-eyed and panting. You watch his cum spill into his sweatpants, creating a dark, damp stain that makes your chest swell with satisfaction.

Your gaze stays locked on him—your body still twitching as your own orgasm fades—and a slow smile spreads across your face as you realise he came untouched, from just watching.

Your boyfriend sits frozen, completely caught off guard, his eyes staring blankly at his lap, cum stain splattered over his sweats. He blinks rapidly as he struggles to form coherent thoughts, his mind a mess. A long, long moment passes, and then he lets out an awkward cough, eyes darting around the room in search of an escape. There’s none. He’s just cum all over himself and can’t even blame it on someone else.

He looks mortified.

You bite your lip, a mischievous smile tugging on your face. “I’m sure Hyuck’s gonna love this.”

“Hyuck isn’t finding out,” he groans. 

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oh, he will. You made a bet about not cumming for a month, and well…”

Renjun growls low in his throat, rising up and crawling onto the bed. “Exactly. I made a bet with him, and if I’m gonna lose $1,000, I might as well fuck my girlfriend properly, and cum inside her, and tell him that’s how I lost, since you wanna be such a fucking tease.”

You smile as he hovers over you, a challenging gleam in your eyes. “Oh yeah? Is that a threat?”

“No,” he murmurs. “It’s a promise.”

[ganondoodle]

even if i didnt love botw as much as i do, totk drives me nuts bc, similarly to pokemon, this series is so SO SO full of potential, they have so many games they can pull from, theres so many themes, characters and worldbuilding thats just left to rot, you dont need to connect anything with a chain to old titles, you dont need to bring back any things that already had their ending, but PLEASE harness at least a fraction of all this!!!! and they just refuse to do it beyond shallow references

totk jsut drives it all home to me, bc this isnt just the next game in the franchise, but a DIRECT SEQUEL no 10 years apart from botw, yet they cant even, they REFUSE to even keep the continuity with its OWN lore it established in botw together, and that, i think, is what truly makes me so insane (derogatory) about totk

it PROVES they do not care, they dont care to build on anything of the lore of old titles beyond references in form of amiibos or whatever, they dont even care to make a sequel to their most successful game in the franchise coherent with its own lore

botw established a captivating detailed world full of potential, while lacking in active storytelling, it had environmental storytelling, characters and ideas that were the perfect ground to build on-

and then they do away with it bc idk .. they want you to build mechs and make videos of it that go viral and thats all they care about or something

shiekah tech? forget that existed character being the character you know? act as if you are seeing them for the first time just like they are lame story? dont think about that just be distracted by the epic presentation of it lore the previous title established? forget that, all that matters is what is here and now beloved character from old games beign brought back? hes a new guy and has no background and no lore and just sits waiting for you at the end to have a flashy fight with references from old titles and their lore? just here for nostalgie bait, dont you remember? you LOVE this series, now give me 70 bucks for a glorified DLC that ruins what you loved about the series and makes you realize that nothign matters and nothing is interesting anymore

you are supposed to take it all at face value, to not think about anything, to see a character say something and just go with it, and forget it the second its over, be distracted by good music and pretty visuals, but dont think about, dont think about anything but what is directly said to you like you have no critical thinking skills, forget there was a game before this one, only the one you play matters, empty your skull and dont let yourself feel anything but what the game tells you to feel

if they dont even care to make the sequel to their most successful game actually build on the previous title, dont even care to keep their continuity of two games supposedly directly happening one after the other in tact- maybe they never cared, and all the meaning we thought we saw them build into their games was all accidental and meaningless

and that is absolutely soul crushing for fans like me to discover

its a game. its not a story, its not a world, its not themes, its not characters, its not lore. its a product made to make you pay money, not to make you think about anything.

[maguro13-2]

Kohaku : (sighs) I'm no interested on my intellects, but I' heavily off guarded of how does being lewd bait feels...Sounds very intriguing and yet disturbing. I don't know if the fans will recognize this as an appeal for my appealings.

Ginro : Oh, lucky me. That's an odd question for ya, if you feel like that you're being lewd baites by geeky fans that have a much weirder side for the extra levels major bangers, why don't you tell how science proves Lewd Baiting is a sexual minor details.

Kohaku : Well...I believe it has something to do with us lewd bait, maybe it's yours to have an appeal to deal.

Ginro : (sweats nervoulsy) An appeal, wh...What appeal? I don't know any appeals, have I? Do you know someone that have any appeals?

Kohaku : Oh yes, you have appeal of being lewd baited. How does it feel to get your juices wet? You don't even know what virgins do when they ooze a lot juices from our virginity.

Ginro : D'ohhh...

*cuts to an imaginary scenario*

Ginro (as a Hot Dog) : [in a panicked tone] Wait! No, no, please! I don't wanna be lewd baited! I don't want this! What are you trying to do?

(the bottle of mustard suddenly splatters a dollop of mustard onto Ginro as it gasps)

Ginro (as a Hot Dog) : No! Not like this this! This isn't right!

Bottle of Mustard : (in a calm deep voice) Now rubit it in. Rub it in all over.

(Ginro lies down sobbing and rolls all over the bed, coating itself with the mustard while staining the bed and the cover.)

Ginro (as a Hot Dog) : This is so embarrassing!

(Ginro continues to sob and rolling around in the mustard stained bed)

Bottle of Mustard : Oh yeah,that's the stuff, I smell it.

Ginro (as a Hot Dog) : [sobs] Oh man!

Bottle of Moustard : I can smell you from here, oh my goodness.

Ginro (As a hot dog) : Not my idea!

Bottle of Mustard (Moves closer to the bed.) Oh, if I puncture you, you're gonna ooze juices.

Ginro : MOMMYYYYYYY!!!

*imaginary scenario ends*

Ginro : Un-second thought...let's just skip the appeals and go on to do our business. Maybe we had an agreement on this whole appealing thing that is ahead of us.

Kohaku : Well, that figures. It's hardly understand that we only had the consequences on how things totally do things for this appeal. And before we go on to do our business, I got one important thing to ask. Do you know what happened to Tamaki's Lucky Lecher syndrome.

Ginro : W-What?

Amaryllis : Kohaku-san! It's really bad, something's really happening to me and I'm being turned on!

Kohaku : Turned on for, umm...what occasion.

Amaryllis : Well...It's just that I'm being turned on...

[Sexy no Jutsu song plays]

Amaryllis : [in a sexual-toned voice] To really fall for you.

*Cartoon/Anime SFX : Bounce*

Ginro : [To Kohaku] Well now, I think you're totally diggin this. I think she's like you, eh? You just got your rizz on.

*Smash SFX : Strong hit*

*bird chirping and floating around*

Kohaku : [with an anger symbol on her head] Don't even say another word!

Amaryllis : Kohaku-chan~Will you let me stay with you together? Just for the two of us. (seduces Kohaku)

Kohaku : Why does everyone think it's appealing to have something like this in a meaningless way of saying this to everyone? But this is literally legit.

*record scratch*

Senku : Hey, what are you two doing?

Amaryllis : S-Senku! W-W-We can explain!

Kohaku : Ahh, nuts.

[crimsonblackrose]

.

People are wearing cobra kai shirts, selling snake bites and water bottles and sending out postcards shaped like the snake in the mail for new locations.

First hint that Mitch is a mole, watching Mitch eating snake bites (chocolates?) in front of a new location.

The dirty swirly they give Anthony is disgusting and also probably going to make him sick. The fact Kenny can get the other Cobra Kai's to just pick up and carry Anthony kinda shows that he legit is no longer the new kid being hazed but kind of has taken over Hawks spot of having minions.

They're using creamer cups

"to beat a monster we need a monster." Chozen: I can be monster. Amanda: Oh, I bet you'd make a great monster

Johnny has no interest in crawling into whatever deep dark hole Kreese is locked in.

Chozen: Line up

Good thing a long time ago, Johnny taught these kids what that meant. Sadly they don't know what any of the Japanese means.

Yanbaru Kuina or the Okinawan Rail (endangered bird) it can't fly

Miguel why would Chozen bring real eggs from Okinawa of an endangered bird?

Must protect egg from Kume Shima Habu, a poisonous snake.

Tory literally trying to warn Devon to not be there.

Kyler to Kenny: Slow down man, you're making the rest of us look bad. Kenny looking around then slowing down: Oh, sorry.

The new cobra kai office with security cameras to watch the dojo.

"I can't believe we're doing this?" "Do you think I want to be here?"

Daniel, Kreese is Johnny's version of Terry Silver, I don't think anyone would drag you to see Terry Silver in jail. Johnny said he didn't want to do this at the beginning. You're kind of using Johnny as bait.

Like Johnny's nervous, his foot is tapping, he's like quickly looking around, behind him. "I hope this place has taken him down a few pegs. Maybe he's ready to talk."

No Johnny, don't go down that route again. Not the, I'll give this guy another chance.

"Old man in a place like this. I almost feel sorry for him." Daniel

Seriously daniel?

"I don't." - Johnny. Still antsy and looking around everywhere.

The jello guy asking if he can get Kreese anything, corn nuts, before bowing and saying yes sensei when kreese tells him to scram.

Johnny nervously straightening his jacket as Kreese sits down across from him.

And of course Kreese directs all his conversation to Johnny. "What the hell is he doing here?" Towards Daniel. "You should be thanking me for getting you out of your cell."- Daniel.

"I don't want to talk to him. I wanna talk to you. " Speaking again only to Johnny.

"Yeah, well, I don't really want to talk to you." Johnny, turning to Daniel and looking away "Told you this was a dumb idea.

Daniel, Kreese tried to kill Johnny, wormed his way back into his life when he was finally repairing it taking advantage of his desire to give himself a second chance and learning to fight in the gray with mercy to steal Johnny's dojo while he was grieving the death of a friend. Re-teaching his students no mercy which he'd tried to take out of them, which ultimately led to them breaking into Miyagi-do and stealing Mr. Miyagi's military award, trashing your dojo, and defacing your car. He wormed his way into Robby's life to win him over, try to take him under his wing to lure Johnny back viewing his own betrayal as good for Johnny and waiting for him to cool off and come back, further straining Johnny and Robby's relationship (something you also helped with), then trying to kill Johnny which you yourself put a stop to. He stole his dojo, stole his students, tricked Johnny, and tried to kill him multiple times. I don't think that's just bad blood. I think bringing Johnny here was kinda cruel but the only chance you had for Kreese to come out and see you. I mean look at how Johnny's the only one sorta curled in on himself with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Lol mitch trying to protect his egg by sitting on it. Chris climbing in a try to try and protect his.

I like that Robby goes : How many times did you have to sand the sparring deck. Sam: 0 times, your dad brought a power sander.

And Robby's delighted laugh.

Miguel out here being very mature. Hawk: I'll kick Robby's ass for you for talking to Sam. Miguel: Nah, we're cool now, they're probably just catching up. So much growth, so proud of him.

he tied it together with floss and left shoelace.

Chozen throws a knife through it when Demetri sets it down and tells Demetri: Bird likes to hear himself sing.

Kyler showing he is not leader material. Tory proving she is, even with someone who doesn't want to follow her. She is a big sister after all and is trying even if it doesn't work.

I just realized we haven't seen Piper all season. I guess she dropped out of Cobra Kai after the all-Valley.

Johnny gently reaching out to stop Daniel when he gets mad and Kreese provokes him.

Cousin Vinny reference!

Johnny's hold on sort of confused betrayed tone.

It's the only way, it's worth the sacrifice.

Johnny looking upset is I think what sells it to Kreese

For some reason I thought one of the kids kept their egg, but Chozen gets all of them

Silver knows Kenny's brother is in juvie.

Kreese to Johnny whose nervously tapping his foot now that Daniel left them alone: Do you want some jell-o?

The guy who wolf whistled at Kreese who got his ass kicked is named Gabriel.

Everything I did was for you

Johnny's body language changed.

"Every mark you left. Every memory of you."

Daniel returns with the number for his lawyer, and Johnny's back to antsy bouncing.

I truly think Chozen's students in Okinawa must love him. He's a very fun very strong teacher.

Tory being a good leader and a good big sister not letting Kim get Devon.

Meanwhile Kenny literally beats up Kyler for not listening to him, knocks him down and uses his body to jump off of to score a point.

"I remember was a little skinny kid loaded with fear, like you were" (To johnny)

Kreese and Silver went to learn in Korea from the master in 1980 (So right around when Johnny started learning karate?)

Terry bought the dojo for John and paid for this trip.

Sekai Taikai, the best karate tournament in the world.

Yup He'd already been teaching and teaching Johnny prior to this trip.

Silver listened to me then, we didn't expand. I wanted to focus on you (Johnny). "Don't make this about me"

The piece of paper with the lawyer's number says "No mercy mother fucker"

Johnny's smile and the way he looks at Daniel.

Kreese looks at Johnny and says without him terry will make mincemeat out of him.

Johnny's last words to him is "Enjoy rotting in your cell."

[renaerys]

22. for reds 🤡

This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.

xxx

Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?

For example, dating.

“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.

“Tell you what?”

She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”

Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”

She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”

He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.

But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.

Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.

He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.

The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.

He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.

Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.

Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”

Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”

He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.

Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.

The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.

“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”

Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.

“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.

Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”

Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”

Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.

Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.

But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.

Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.

xxx

That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.

He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.

“Can I borrow your class notes?”

Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.

“Which class?”

“All of them.”

He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”

She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”

A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.

“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”

They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”

Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”

A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.

Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”

“Working on it.”

The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.

“You want to be my friend.”

“We have so much in common.”

“So do lions and hyenas.”

“Both are apex predators, so.”

She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.

Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”

Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”

“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”

The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.

“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.

Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”

She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”

Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.

The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.

“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.

“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.

“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”

Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.

[thebitterflamingo]

Freaky Forever

Aka the Eternals Freaky Friday AU no one asked for

At first, it was fun. In fact, waking up in Sersi’s body after they barely managed to stop the emergence seemed almost too good to be true.

Sprite held Sersi’s her hands in front of her and marveled at the long, delicate fingers. She stumbled her way to her feet and smiled at the amazing, adult height she was sure Sersi took for granted.

It was clear the others weren’t as thrilled about their circumstances.

Ajak (in Thena’s body apparently) was down for the count. Apparently body swapping wasn’t good for Thena’s fragile mental condition, and the illness had flared up as soon as Ajak regained consciousness in her body.

Ikaris, who could only be Kingo in the Eternal’s infuriatingly good looking body, was already sporting a nasty slash on the arm as evidence of Ajak’s attack. He sulked as Thena, in Ajak’s body, tried to figure out how to heal it.

He sucked in a breathe and whined piteously as Thena touched the slash, both expressions uncharacteristic on the usually stoic Ikaris’ face. Thena spoke in harsh tones all while she tenderly cradled the wound. Nurturing was never her strong suit, though she seemed to be trying.

Sersi, irritatingly, seemed to be taking waking up in Sprite’s body well. She was sitting near Kingo and Thena, talking in hushed tones with whoever was in Kingo’s body (likely Ikarus going by the current pattern and their disgustingly intimate body language).

Sprite couldn’t decide what disturbed her more, seeing that tender look on her own face or having it directed at Kingo. (She was probably most disturbed by the fact it was actually Ikaris looking at Sersi like that, when she’d only ever wanted him to look at her, but she tried not to consider that too hard.)

Druig walked up then, at least Druig’s body, with Phastos in tow. Druig was playing with the bracelet at his wrist, the one they’d used to mind meld earlier, while Phastos talked in a slightly irritated tone. It took Sprite a second to realize they were arguing.

“This is hardly something you’re going to figure out with hardware, Phastos. Especially without your usual power set,” Phastos was saying, and Sprite realized he must actually be Druig.

“We need to solve this with the mind,” he continued.

“I am using my mind to solve this,” Phastos (in Druig’s body) snapped back.

“You know what I mean,” Druig answered with a sigh. “Just let me help you. If we work together, we can figure this out. Just let me explain how it works.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

“Explain to me??? Kid, I could talk circles around you!” Phastos fumed.

Clearly, someone was upset their new toy hadn’t functioned quite as intended.

“I’m not interested in some Vulcan mind meld mumbo jumbo, when I’ve got the nuts and bolts right her to guide me,” Phastos continued.

Druig sighed again, this time more angrily, and tossed his hands up. “Can’t teach an old horse new tricks,” he said, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Damn straight,” Phastos answered, not taking the bait.

Druig tried a new tactic.

“Look,” he said, pointing towards where Thena was still alternating between tending to and scolding the injured Kingo. “Even Thena has figured it out, you could at least give it a try.”

Thena took a moment to turn her frown from Kingo to Druig before seemingly deciding the comment wasn’t worth fighting over. That, or Druig just lucked out that Thena could no longer summon weapons in her current form.

Sprite could already tell Phastos still wasn’t going to be convinced. She was about to step in, when Sersi beat her to it, of course.

“You can at least try to help Ajak, Phastos,” she said in the even, reasonable tone of hers. Phastos, damn him, softened.

Everyone looked briefly relieved at the topic change, though Druig still seemed like he wanted to push it. Sprite stepped in before he could make another move.

“Why don’t you fill the rest of us in, Druig?” she said.

Sersi shot her a grateful look for the diversion, but Sprite brushed it off.

She wasn’t doing it for her. After all, she’d only just gotten this body. She didn’t want them to solve this little side effect too quickly. Not before she’d had a little fun at least.

Druig sighed angrily again, but some tension drained from his shoulders. Being unable to use his powers himself to do whatever he believed was necessary to fix this must be annoying.

Mikkari and Gilgamesh, the two last unaccounted for members of the team, noticing the change in atmosphere, came to join them. Sprite almost jumped out of her skin as Mikkari quietly (of course she was quiet, she always was) came up behind her.

Gilgamesh gave Druig almost the same scare, surprising him by placing a quiet hand on his shoulder. The touch initially jolted Druig, who looked confused, before Gilgamesh made a hand sign.

“It’s. Mikkari,” he followed up the sign with, haltingly. Druig blinked, surprised, before nodding in acceptance.

Gilgamesh (in Mikkari’s body apparently) nodded the affirmative, though when he attempted to sign he ended up saying something like, “I am hungry,” which may have been his intention, but Sprite highly doubted it. While they all knew enough signs to read what Mikkari said, making the signs was a lot different.

Now that everyone was assembled, Druig started.

“It’s the bracelets,” he said, which Sprite figured was kind of obvious at this point.

“Hold up, this is all because of our freaking friendship bracelets??” Kingo crowed.

Maybe not as obvious as Sprite thought. She stopped just short of rolling her eyes.

“They did what they were supposed to,” Druig continued, “getting us all out of our own heads and into one, but my guess is it scrambled us up when it tried to put us back.”

“So we’re stuck like this?” Sprite asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

She had experience with being stuck in a body she never wanted. The others looked concerned at the prospect though.

Well, the others except one, Sprite noticed. Thena also looked thoughtful. What must it be like, to break things and be broken for so long, only to be put back together and given the power to heal?

Thena cast a guilty look to where Ajak was resting peacefully, finally, Phastos apparently having finally figured out how to use Druig’s power to knock her out.

Interesting.

Sprite noted it for later.

Druig was shaking his head and Sprite’s heart sank.

‘Please don’t let him have a solution already,’ she willed silently.

As if reading her thoughts (though Sprite was realistically sure that wasn’t in his usual power set and definitely not in his current Phastos-based one) Druig spoke up.

“I don’t have a solution yet, but if Someone would work with me,” (he tossed this over his shoulder to Phastos) I think we’ll have this sorted out soon.”

“Great,” Sprite said, not meaning it.

“Fine,” Phestos sighed in defeat. Ajak’s condition seemed to have drained the fight out of him. “What do you need me to do?”

“We’ll I’m thinking we’ll start on the internal, psycho drive,” Druig started, but Sprite interrupted.

“How long?”

“Impatient, Short-stack?” Phastos asked with a chuckle.

Sprite gritted her teeth and shrugged.

“I’d guess two, three days, tops?” Druig offered, “I’m not sure of all the technology stuff?” He looked to Phastos, who shrugged and nodded.

“As good an estimate as any, I suppose. We’re not exactly in charted territory here.”

Sprite quickly dropped out of the conversation as it devolved into technobabble. She had the information she needed anyway.

Three days. She’d be long gone before then. And if they couldn’t find her, they couldn’t ‘fix’ her.

Time for some fun.

====

“I just don’t know why it’s not working,” Phastos sighed in frustration, a few hours later.

“I have a suggestion!” Kingo piped up from where he’d started a tic tax toe game with Mikkari in the dirt. Seeing Gilgamesh hunched over the make shift game, an intense look on his face, was quite comical.

“What?” Druig asked warily, though not without some hope.

“Well if the movie is anything to go by, all we need to do to resolve this is overcome our personal differences and internal battles, discovering love and friendship along the way.”

Druig wasn’t even surprised. “What are you even talking about?” he asked tiredly, not sure he wanted to know.

“Freaky Friday!” Kingo answered. “It’s only a classic!”

“Forget I asked,” Druig said, rolling his eyes to the heavens as if asking the Celestials for strength.

“Hey has anyone seen Sprite?” Sersi suddenly asked, which was a strange question to see come from Sprite’s own face.

“Or T-H-E-N-A?” Gilgamesh signed out painstakingly, letter by letter.

“I think they left together to find water,” Mikkari offered, but Gilgamesh was shaking his (her?) head.

“Went to eye,” he signed, frowning when everyone looked at him blankly.

“Face. Head. Place,” he tried again.

Mikkari’s face cleared in understanding. “You mean the head of the Celestial?”

Gilgamesh nodded vigorously.

“For Cargo. Junk,” he signed.

“Sounds like they headed that direction to look for supplies,” Mikkari translated.

“I’ll go look,” Gilgamesh offered, miming running.

The others nodded in agreement, but one try was all it took for that plan to hit a wall, or a tree (quite literally).

Turns out using another Eternal’s abilities was quite difficult without practice, especially Mikkari’s speed. It was quite jarring if you weren’t used to it, Mikkari was quick to comfort Gilgamesh.

With the super speed out, the group has no choice but to take the old fashioned route.

It costs valuable time, time they could be using to fix this mess, but no one comments on it.

Finally, they reach the shore where their ship still sits, wrecked and in need of repairs. There’s no sign of Sprite or Thena, on the shore or the ship where they’d presumably go for supplies. An escape shuttle is however also conspicuous absent, and it takes everyone a minute for it to sink in.

Sprite and Thena were gone.

[black-rose-writings]

I read Ruin and Rising because I’m bored

And I also hate myself

Like with the last book, I have a vague idea of the plot and stuff from tumblr and fanfics. I will also be refering to Darkling as Sasha for most of this.

I am still Darklina trash and don’t particularly like Mal.

On a different note, I’ve finally moved for college, but the internet here is trash, so I’ll probably have a lot more reading time now, since most games I play are online and will crash without internet.

Before

Cool story. Let’s hope Alina stays a badass.

Who am I joking, I know how this ends.

Chapter 1

So far so good. I hate the Apparat, per usual. Alina’s there basically dying and that bitch can’t wait to see her do so.

Cult leader to the core this one. He probably hates that his figurehead is alive and also not brainwashed.

Cult leader doesn’t like swearing. How surprising.

My boy David is completely right. What kind of irresponsible dingus keeps centuries old books in a fucking wet-ass cave? (Or a tree for that matter *cough cough* The Last Jedi *cough, cough*).

Genya is fun to be around.

Oh, shit, let’s go.

Chapter 2

Jesus Christ, Alina, Zoya isn’t that bad.

This is one hell of a shitshow.

I live for this version of Alina. Badass. Scary. I want more of this Alina.

Chapter 3

Out of all the random little details from crappy smut fics, I did not expect Oncat to be from the books, lol.

Mal actually has a supernatural tracking ability. Like, literally, they put a bug into the pouch with gunpowder so he could make the shot. I guess this was kinda said before, but never this directly, right?

Alina’s merzost-skyping Sasha now, yay.

Alina is horny for Sasha boy. Yay.

Alina canonically has a praise kink. Nice.

I hate LB with all of my heart at this very moment. How dare she bait us Darklina people like this? How DARE she? (Shipbaiting is the worst, seriously.)

Yes, yes, yes. These two lines. That’s what their relationship is all about. They’re each others foils, the yin to the other’s yang and... ugh. I am Darklina trash to the core and this hurts.

Darklina: You have a terrible taste in men.

Alina: I liked you once.

My boy Sasha walked into that one.

Chapter 4

Alina is a Queen. And we love her.

David, my beloved, my spirit animal.

It’s surprising they can read it at all, given it’s been centuries. Have you ever tried reading medieval manuscripts?

Honestly, with a father that crazy, it’s no wonder Baghra’s a bitch. And I’ve seen it said somewhere that the books imply Ilya’s experiments are what caused Baghra to be a shadow summoner and you know what? I can see how you’d make that connection.

Why is there so few Tidemakers in the books? Waterbenders are useful. I want more waterbenders.

Alina picking up some habits from Baghra I see.

Ah, yes, we love an educated giant.

I’m starting to think Harshaw is a bit nuts.

Shut up, Hershey. Or at least share the weed with the class. I’m not here for this “He’s mean to you because he likes you”. I might believe that in like, elementary school, but yall are (more or less) adults. Jesus.

Well, that was a bombshell of a twist.

Chapter 5

Oh boy, we’ve got some trauma bonding for out merry band of misfits. Yay.

Adrik has a crush on Zoya. And she hates it, lol. Cut the kid some slack, he’s like 15 or something.

That reminds me, I have a four-leaf clover pressed in books from close to year and a half ago. Time flies.

They’re really diving into the Mal has supernatural powers, huh?

Ghosts, let’s go.

Alina “I’m so happy to be outside I start to shine like a fucking fairy” Starkov and Mal is entranced. He’s definitelly nicer now. I’m not forgiving him for all the shit he’s pulled before and for using the silent treatment way too much, but hey, at least he’s improving.

I am not a Zoyalina person, but like... gay? Please? Rivals to grudging allies to friends to lovers, 300k slowburn? Sounds more fun than whatever Mala dn Alina have going on, lol.

(I’m starting to realize I’m not as much a Darklina person as I am anti-Malina person, lol. Like, literally everyone has a more interesting dynamic with Alina than tracker boy over there. Malina is at best boring AF and at worst toxic, codependent and emotionally abusive, while also being boring AF at the same time. It has literally nothing going for it except God herself liking it).

I can see why Nadia is gay in the show. The book version of her definitelly has a crush on Tamar. Homegirl likes a woman, who can murder her with the flick of her wrist and honestly? Same.

Alina has some big “coming out of lockdown after a year” energy atm.

The cat is one of the most realistic characters in this thing, lol.

And since Tamar is also heavily queercoded, our lovely ladies make off into the night, flirting. Or maybe not. Let me dream, though.

At least Blade Boy is aware that his tattoo is stupid. To quote someone ranting about him on tumblr: He’s embracing his identity as a tool.

Oh, boy, this will be fun.

Evil soldier is horny for Mal. Saints, is there a woman in this book who isn’t horny for Blade Boy?

And here comes Niki to save the day.

Chapter 6

Niki saved the day.

Fiberglass? And David being David. Genya being in love with her nerd of a boyfriend.

Jesus Christ, this one crazy kid has moved the technology in this universe a whole century on his own. So, when is David going to propose to him?

Baghra hasn’t changed much I see.

Baghra’s about to drop some truthbombs, but no, we have to be rudely interupted because Genya’s rapist is throwing a fit.

Chapter 7

How does Mal sound? Is she gonna say the Blade boy sounds like her dad? I mean, I know voices are partially genetic, but it has been tens of generations between them, probably.

So, we’re finally taking Genya’s trauma seriously after all this time? Good. Better late than never, I guess.

I wish that regicide was already finished and I’m pretty sure that Genya does, too. Stop defending the fucking king, narrative.

David’s a nerd in all things I see.

Someone please just kill the king already. And the queen, too, for good measure.

Now that’s a romance.

Infodumping and listening to said infodumps is a legitimate love language, Alina. Let them nerd out over poisons.

Wait, has Alina never directly killed anyone before? I thought she did... hmmm.

And just like that, it should have been over. Ugh.

Somehow, Baghra is a better teacher now than she was before. She half feels like a completely different character.

Nevermind, she’s back at it.

Chapter 8

Holy shit, Nadia and Tamar are canon. They have canon gays here.

So, which one of them is gonna die?

Chapter 9

We arrive at that scene. The one, where they should have fucked.

Jeez, girl, get a hold of yourself. Life is short, fuck a villain.

In other news, Genya and David definitelly fucked.

Chapter 10

Poor David. He just wanted to know.

Damn... I never realized just how young Baghra was, when she killed her sister.

I’ve already made a post about this, but it really does strike me like Baghra has already decided to end her life at this point in the book.

Why is that whole “but what if we’re related” thing even in there?

Chapter 11

We love a suprise attack.

When did Sasha boy learn that trick?

Baghra really just did that. Oh boy.

Chapter 12

No, don’t kill the kid... ugh.

Emotiona support cat. She should be friends with Milo.

Porrige for brains. Oof.

So Nadia was the one, who got bees set on her in the book. Cool.

That’s a good question. Why was it never brought up to Alina, that other Grisha get blocks, too?

David already thinking of steampunk prosthetic for Adrik is honestly kinda sweet.

Chapter 13

Back home... kinda.

Is that really... you really care about Mal bonking the Grisha school mean girl over a year ago? Okay.

Chapter 14

Angst! Yay!

And more angst.

Chapter 15

Sasha really went “My mom killed herself to save you? Well, I’ll kill the closest thing to parents you have.”

Chapter 16

Nikolai’s alive. Kinda.

And these two have such a sibling energy, I can’t.

And then they fuck. Ew.

Chapter 17

Wait, wait wait... so Alina isn’t even the one to destroy the Fold?

Okay. That’s... weird.

Holy shit. That was...

So, Aleksander is dead. Mal isn’t. Someone else destroyed the Fold for Alina and now she has no powers.

Okay.

That’s a weird-ass ending.

Chapter 18

The gays survived, so that’s nice.

Genya made good on her promise of making Alina a ginger, lol.

After

What emotion is this supposed to give me? Cause all I feel is kinda sad.

[blu-eh]

Prompt request if your up to it (kinda specific idk how I came up with it). You know the idea that Peter steals the Avenger's food when they don't yet know who he is? I was thinking if he were ever stealing Thor's poptarts (or whatever other food) and Thor decided to put Mjolnir on top, maybe record footage of it at night, and Peter is half asleep while moving the hammer and taking the pop tarts leaving everyone watching him super confused at the whole situation. Weird I know but I thought this could be super funny, do with it what you'd like.

as per what I usually do with prompts: I took this and then ran with it in the opposite direction. messy & unedited ofc

“I know the hazing rituals for the Avengers would probably be a ride or die but this is just ridiculous,” Peter says.  

“It’s punishment,” Mr. Stark tells him. 

All in all, it’s pretty terrible punishment. Peter had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar—or the poptart box, in this very specific case—no less than three times in the past mouth which, yeah. Peter can’t really say he was the best at sneaking around but, to be fair, it wasn’t like he knew the poptarts were Thor’s specifically. 

Following a very important Avengers level meeting that involved the entire team, the conclusion to protect Thor’s poptarts was not to write his name on them like any sensible person but instead to take his very large and very magical hammer and leave it on a box of poptarts so Peter could no longer access them. 

Which is the exact scene that Peter Parker walked into on that early Sunday morning after taking a car to the side and getting smashed around by the lizard. Devastated seems a little dramatic to describe the feelings Peter experienced upon realization, but there had been nothing he’d been looking to more than taking a poptart and possibly a nap. And as cool as it is to see Thor’s hammer up close, it’s currently in the way of Peter’s very important weekend cooldown that usually involves some tasty preserved parties and a bed. 

Now that won’t happen because the Avengers put Thor’s hammer on said box of poptarts. 

Still. You would think the Avengers would be more creative in their Anti-Spider-Man Stealing Mechanisms. 

Peter tells Mr. Stark as much. 

“Doesn’t need to be creative if it works,” Mr. Stark says which is more than a little hypocritical considering Mr. Stark takes the word creative to the extreme on a good day. “It’s stopping you right now, isn’t it?” 

Peter sighs with all of the exasperation of a super-powered teenager who hasn’t had food in at least two hours and a truck load of determination to spare, rolls up his nonexistent sleeves on his t-shirt, and says, “Okay. No one can say I don’t like challenges.”

 - 

“If you can put Thor’s hammer in an elevator and the elevator still moves up, then we’re working on the assumption that the hammer is only heavy when something interacts with it so—hey, Mr. Stark, could one of your suits lift it?” 

“Not with me in it,” Mr. Stark says. 

The rest of the Avengers had taken to watching Peter try and figure out the like it was some 90s soap opera—which is to say, they have been absolutely invested since the moment that Peter started writing on the whiteboard and pacing around the common room. 

“He’s still going at this?” Mr. Steve whispers to Ms. Nat. 

“He hasn’t stopped since he came here,” Ms. Nat says right back. 

Peter dutifully ignores outside conversations and scribbles his notes on the Avengers- approved whiteboard that he’d dug out of Mr. Stark’s lab for the sole purpose of trying to figure out how to free a box of poptarts from a magic hammer. “Yeah, you’re not worthy so you wouldn’t be able to lift it—”

“Thank you for the reminder, Underroos.” 

“But I’m talking about like, if it were just the suit. Hey, would FRIDAY be worthy? Could she drive a suit and lift the hammer? She’s not technically alive so maybe…Never mind, we’ll test that later. Would something like a pulley work? If I’m not directly lifting it, would that still influence the magic still? Dr. Banner, what do you think?”

“Truthfully, I have no opinion on this, Peter,” Dr. Banner says.  

“I think,” Sam says. “That you are putting way too much thought into a magic hammer.” 

“A magic hammer that’s on my food.” 

“It’s Thor’s,” Sam says. “Not yours.” 

“That hammer? I figured that was pretty obvious.” 

“Sam looks two seconds away from lunging and wringing Peter’s neck. He takes a deep breath and says, “No. The food.” 

“Minor detail,” Peter says. “Hey, do you think—”

 -

Clint whistles. “Impressive.”

Sam’s got that mom-friend worrying look in his eyes and a hand on his cellphone already to dial emergency services or, worse, Peter’s aunt. “Is that…is that going to work?” 

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Peter says. 

‘That’ is a cumulation of nuts and pipes and bolts and various scrap metal that Peter has managed to scrape up and put together in the last two hours. It towers over the living area and into the kitchen. A roller coaster of science, compacted down into a Rube Goldberg constructed out of more than a couple thousand dollars of junk pieces and starts with a single marble that’s no bigger than a quarter. 

Peter’s done a look of cool stuff in his two years of Avengering—missions, messing around in Mr. Stark’s lab, working on top secret projects for an even more top secret government—but he’s not quite sure anything lives up to this masterful creation. 

Mr. Steve and Mr. Stark are off to the side with the rest of the Avengers who cared enough to watch him construct everything after the five hour mark. Mr. Steve leans over to Mr. Stark and whispers, almost too quiet for Peter to hear, “Should you stop him?”

“The good mentor slash guardian thing would be to stop him,” Mr. Stark says right back. “But at this point, I’m invested so no.” 

That’s about as good of permission as Peter’s ever going to get so he takes the first step and drops the marble into a pipe. From there, it moves through wood pieces, metal sculpted into ramps and tunnels and pulleys until it’s caused a cascade of reactions. It takes a solid three minutes before it nears the end and Peter can only wait with baited breath and the whole mechanism comes to a valiant conclusion and the last piece slams into the hammer and…

The hammer doesn’t move. 

Sam doesn’t even bother hiding his laugh. “Better luck next time, spider-kid.” 

Clint shrugs. “It was a good effort.” 

In science, it’s not uncommon for things not to work. Peter’s had his fair share of exploding inventions, spider webs in his face, and code that doesn’t run. It still doesn’t prepare him for the crushing disappointment that he feels upon seeing that magic hammer still sitting on a box of poptarts that he so desperately wants to free.

At this point, it’s not even about the food anymore. Peter’s too invested to not see this through some way or another. 

So he starts building and tries it again. And again. And again. 

By the time night had fallen and the starts were covered by light pollution in the heart of New York, Peter’s no closer to those poptarts than he was during the early afternoon. The rest of the Avengers had lost interest at this point—content to longue around the lobby with a movie playing in the background and an ear peeled just to make sure Peter hasn’t accidently injured himself yet. 

Eventually, Mr. Stark wanders back into the room and knocks on the wall. When Peter looks up, Mr. Stark says, “Alright, Underoors, it’s bed time.” 

“But I’m not done,” Peter says. “I’m so close, Mr. Stark!”

Mr. Stark takes in the scattered pieces of junk and the hammer still sitting atop the poptart box, unscaved and unmoved. “Uh huh. Right. Well, I’m sure it will still be there next time you stop by but it’s a school night and I don’t want to face your aunt’s wrath if I bring you home too late.” 

“But…” 

“I am sure you can thwart the poptart box some other time,” Mr. Stark says which is really just the tipping point for this entire situation. 

By the end of it, Peter’s so frustrated the he goes to yank the poptart box out from under the hammer itself, damned if the poptarts get crushed, ripped, or otherwise destroyed in the process. He puts one hand on the hammer and one hand on the box and just pulls.

It’s not the poptart box that comes loose. 

There’s a hammer in his hand that hadn’t been there before, lightweight in a way that made Peter think he had been holding a piece of paper and not an extremely destructive magic weapon. The room around him goes so quiet that a pen could be dropped and the echo would be heard all the way down the hall. 

“Oh,” Peter says. “Huh.” 

“He did not just do that,” Sam says. “Please tell me the fourteen year old did not just do that.”

Peter pivots on his heel and points the hammer at him. “I’m sixteen.” 

The rest of the Avengers are looking at him in a way that Peter can’t quite really describe in a totality. Dr. Banner has a hand over his mouth, Clint’s jaw is about as close to the ground as it can be, Ms. Nat looks somewhat amused but there’s something else there—Peter’s not fantastic at reading expressions and even less fantastic when it’s reading expressions of a superspy so he doesn’t even try there. Mr. Stark looks a bit more exasperated than surprised but it’s that exasperation when you think your kid can’t do something and are pleasantly surprised to see them succeed. Mr. Steve is standing, white-knuckled grip on the couch’s arm and eyes wide in an expression of shock that Peter’s never really seen on him before.

Peter’s surprised the Avengers a handful of times but he thinks, with the hammer in his hands and the poptart box freed, that this is situation is the best. 

“I think,” Mr. Stark says in the same tone voice he always has when he’s trying to take control of a situation where he has very little control in. “That we need Thor. Right now.” 

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

I used to go for jogs with Pyrrha.

Just around Beacon campus. I didn’t read much into it at the time. I really didn’t. I was mostly focused on getting enough oxygen and afterwards enough breakfast to read into how she probably wanted me to see her body in action. It wasn’t like I didn’t get to see her in action in Glynda’s class and our training sessions, but still. I didn’t look much into it. Or maybe she just wanted to spend time with me. Maybe...

With Ruby, jogging through the waterfalls of Mistral until we stopped to get smoothies and talk shop, it was kind of hard to miss how her body flowed. Maybe it was a speedster thing. Maybe I was more awake. Maybe I was less of a total moron. But it was an experience chasing her through the Mistrali gardens in her workout clothes. An experience. She looked damn good in that tight ‘T’ and boy shorts.

Eventually she took mercy on my tired soul and lungs at a place she must have looked up in her scroll to get blended fresh fruit. It was delicious after so long rationing everything.

“So that was fun.” She stretched breezily and in that moment I’d never, well 'hated' was a little strong, but I certainly never disliked her more as I wheezed for breath. I’d insisted that I have a weapon on me which meant my bastard sword was strapped to my back and had given my run asymmetry.

I took a long smooth drink of smoothy. She was so lucky she ordered me strawberry, pineapple, and vanilla. Plus she was damn cute. I suspected she knew it too.

“What did you and my uncle talk about over drinks? Must have been interesting to get you so stumbly.”

“I wasn’t stumbly.” I defended insistently.

“You were,” she teased. “You and him stumbled all over the place when you brought that new guy back.”

New guy. Like she wasn’t already chummy with Oscar Pine, better known as Ozpin. She shared her comics with the guy. I didn’t jealously suck on my straw at the thought. Well, he would never have what we have anyway. “Qrow and I talked about a way to get him some legs.”

“Oh really?”

“Unfortunately it probably involves doing some shady shit.” She kicked me for the swear. It was light, with the toe of her foot. More like she was grazing my shin than hitting me. It made me want to swear again more than anything else just to get her to touch me.

“I thought you wanted to avoid stuff like that.”

“I did but your uncle really needs a new pair of feet.”

She sighed at that. “You two are going to get along so well.”

“I appreciate what you did with him, by the way.”

She innocently cocked her head at me, the damsel. “What did I do?”

“You convinced him to teach me.”

“Well he did used to be a teacher.”

“Thanks Rubes. I really need it.”

“So you’ll be up for some fighting later?” She jabbed my stomach where she knew I was ticklish. “Up for a bit of one on one?”

“Oh you better believe I’d go one on one with you anytime.” I gave her a kiss to emphasize and she turned scarlet. She looked away, brushing her hair from her face and taking a long drink to calm down which only made me want to do it again.

So I did. I ran my tongue across her lips and into her mouth and she leaned into me in a really self-satisfying way. I pulled back a chair behind her and pushed her down into it. As I did, I pulled back and kissed her forehead. She giggled and flushed even more red, looking up at me with big silver eyes.

Fuck me.

Her sweat, light across her scalp tasted as sweet as my smoothy.

I licked my lips looking down at her. “Stop it.” She blushed. “I’m trying to focus. You’re not helping”

“Yeah well me too. You can’t just be there looking like-” Sex. She looked like sex. “Like really, really good and expect me to do nothing.” She made me remember that night in the woods where we shared our first ride. It was unforgettable, burned into my memory more than anything I’d ever experienced. I wanted it again. I was hungry for it again.

“Yeah well you need to tell me what you and my uncle are planning, still.” She must have heard it in my voice; maybe it turned more husky than I meant it to. I put the cold smoothy in my lap because the demure sound of her voice and her smell and taste was seriously driving me nuts.

Embrace the cold, little Jaune.

“I’m not sure yet. Probably some kind of drug run to be honest.”

“What kind of drugs.” Her eyes and nostrils narrowed and the demure sound was gone. I would kill to bring it back.

“Just greens, probably.” I lied, like a fucking liar. “About Ozpin…”

“You don’t trust him.”

Was I really that obvious? “No. No I don’t. I think he’ll get you, or Ren, or Nora killed. I think he’s hiding something, besides.”

She nodded along. “Well what about you?” What the fuck about me? “Besides what could he be hiding?”

“The truth. Whatever that may be. What do we actually know about Mother besides she’s evil?”

“Mother?” She wondered at me.

I frowned. “Mother?”

“I don’t know. You said it.”

“I meant Salem. Slip of the tongue. The point is we don’t know anything about either of them. Ozpin seems to have some sort of plan but I trust it about as much as I trust his last one.”

“His plan with Pyrrha.” She confirmed. I’d told her about the girl in the tube and when Qrow had spilled his guts about the maidens, I’d pieced what they had planned together. In reality I was still warming up to Qrow. At least he hadn't used Ruby as bait or something.

Pyrrha, though, was dead because of Ozpin. She was dead. My friend was dead.

Qrow had a perfectly good reason to not join up with us in his scouting and his semblance. “Well what about Lionheart?”

“I trust him even less.” If that was possible. “Hell, Ozpin doesn’t even trust Lionheart. You heard him. He’s disobeying Ozpin’s orders. Who knows what that means. How did Cinder and her allies slip past him? Cinder isn't exactly a normal student. Speaking of, I shouldn’t have been able to get past Ozpin either. I could have gotten somebody killed.”

“Well what was in your forgeries?”

I thought hard. And harder. And was coming up blank. “I have no idea. I can’t remember.” I scratched my head. “Must have been convincing or else after day one, I should have been out. It doesn’t make any sense. I was total garbage.”

She reached out and took my hand. “You weren’t garbage. Maybe he saw the potential in you.” She stroked my fingers.

I shook my head. “None of this is adding up.” I squeezed her hand back.

“You’ll be safe with what you do with my uncle, though, won’t you?”

“Of course. We’re heading out this evening to even see if we can work out a deal. You’ll see me back tonight. Tomorrow at the latest. And if you don’t you’ll at least hear from me.”

She anxiously slurped her smoothy to empty. Then she started to eye mine and I forked it over. She seriously burned twice as many calories as a normal person. If not more. She was a hungry little devil.

“I don’t like this.” She mumbled into her new drink.

“I figured you wouldn’t but what choice do we have? We need your uncle back to one hundred percent, regardless of Ozpin’s schemes.”

“If you need me I’ll be around finding the parts for Harbinger. Just a call away.”

I watched her drink in silence as she absorbed what I had told her. “About your uncle, does he know about us?” She shook her head and swallowed some smoothy. “Do you want him to?”

She thought about it for a moment. Then she shook her head. Then shrugged. When she finally pulled the straw from her mouth she said “If he finds out, that’s fine. I don’t want us to be a secret or anything. And it’s not like I’m embarrassed by you. He just gets a little overprotective. I’d like him to get to know you a little better, if possible. He does seem to like you but...If he finds out he finds out, I guess.”

I nodded. Hey, it was her decision.

When she finally stood up from our table I followed suite without hesitation. “Come on,” she said, “Ren and Nora should be up. We can get some practice in before you head off.” I groaned because I knew she was going to make me run again but she flashed me a million watt smile and I felt my load lighten. Her eyes flicked down to my pants then back up to my eyes knowingly. “Plus if we make it back fast enough we can, well, there’s only one shower. We may have to share.”

The little devil.

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

[vroomian]

(headdesk slam) Yes, that was 2/2 percent didn’t even realize I forgot to add it in the message until after I sent it and spent like 5 mins internally screaming at myself. I’m a mess of a human being tbh. Really? I’m surprised because it feels like Xi fits perfectly in this AU. Xi as accidental cryptid is the best thing, in both worlds. That’s a relief to hear. My anxiety and I don’t get along so I tend to go to worst possible scenario. You’ll probably regret that soon enough. 1/2

I’m like a magpie if something catches my interest and I’ll fuss over it and go all crazy. Especially now, seeing that you did that hob oneshot and mdzs that is two of the main three bl web novels that I now of. Like, of the three I’ve only fully read svsss and my mind immediately went to wonder where Xi would fit in that verse and at this point he’d totally be where the biggest amount of knowledge is and that my mind went ‘what if Xi was head disciple of Qing Jing Peak?’ 2/?

But that’s pretty unlikely given Xi’s desperate avoidance of feelings, plot, and responsibility. Though I could totally see him as a reluctant head disciple and desperately trying to avoid plot. Plus, definitely the first to notice that something would be off with this new Qingqiu. That said, bullying in his peak would not fly with him so I could see Binghe crushing on this unknown elder disciple.

3/3 I’m sorry I don’t want to make it seem like I want to push you to write another AU when you’ve got enough on your hands. My mind just just went ‘ooh what if this happened?’ And I wanted to share my thoughts with you because I think it’s interesting. So yeah, again feel free to ignore this. I’m like that guy from the meme with the pictures on the wall and red thread when my brain goes nuts lol.

long ask so this goes under the cut

okay there are a million different ways this question could go, because like. is yrz female in this universe? is he male? is he older than the main characters? is he younger? which sect is he living near? is his family nice or assholes? which version of the story is he in? the sssvs version or the actual original demon path novel (or whatever it’s been a while since i read the novel)??? does yrz get a system??? 

because the answers to those questions change the story drastically 

okay so lets do two versions 

one: it’s sssvs. yrz has a ‘background character system’ or something.  he’s gotta have a system otherwise he wouldn't get without a thousand li of cang qiang sect. so this systems chooses him (lets say he’s a guy in this universe) because its low key and yrz is low key and it was like hey lets be low key together!

lol system. 

lol. 

but the system and yrz get along pretty well, and they get into the peak they want -- which is Wan Jian peak, because if yrz can’t join the library peak because of Plot reasons, he’s going with hsi second love. Swords! plus i don’t think there are literally any named characters from the story, except the peak lord. 

so. timeline wise, i think that none of the peak-lords have ascended yet, so yrz does his natural thing --- he over performs and becomes the head disciple for wan jian peak  as consequence and it’s literally just in time for the former peak lords to ascend, so yrz is like. stuck. as a peak lord. 

both the system and yrz are horrified and confused as to how this happened. or, no, by then the system understands the Mistake it made in choosing yrz. on paper yrz is very unassuming! but in reality yrz has no chill. he’s never even heard of the concept of chill. he does everything at 110%.

I think that the bulk of this story takes place waaaay before the sssvs cannon, and lbh is sir not appearing in this fic. instead its -- liu qingge! and mu qingfang! both??? both is good! i think he meets lqg first, when he challenges yrz to a spar in the middle of a high stakes missing because lqg is a meathead jock at that age, and yrz is like. no? do your job? dumbass. (yrz has no idea who this shouty brat is, because the system is taking a nap. it wakes up and kicks itself for leaving yrz alone to do stuff.) yrz is older than lqg and kicks his ass because... well. because it’s hilarious really. so he gains a lqg shaped stalker. 

yrz has a lot of interest in both sparring and healing, and with lqg following him around, yrz spends a lot of time at the healing peak and meets mqf there. mqf gets a huge crush almost immediately but never said anything. it’s not surprising that yrz quickly bonds with these totally cool new disciples -- and then learns that both of the are the succeeding disciples for their peaks. oops. 

system gives up. 

version two: bing-ge edition! 

no system this time around and yrz stays far far away from the cang qiong. he joins a small sect to learn than fucks off to have adventures by himself as a rouge cultivator. so, male version again BUT yrz gets cursed or something and gets the ability to change gender at will because that’s funny and useful. also you know. porn world written by a “straight” guy. there are reasons for that kind of curse imma just gloss over. 

then the plot happens. all of immortal demon path’s many, many chapters are playing around in the background of yrz’s life, but she manages to stay out of it -- until one night yrz gets accidentally recruited by a cult dedicated to bringing down the evil demon lord lbh, because this cult has a book yrz is after. she ends up being used as bait for lbh (because he eats virgins now according to rumors. he’s up to wife number 249 by now so it’s not wrong !) 

yrz gets ‘saved’ by lbh, who’s kind of smirking and going ‘oh, no need to thank me, it was what anyone would have done,’ while totally expecting sex. yrz is like ‘oh, cool. bye then.’ and just. takes the book and leaves. 

lbh: *surprised pikachu face*

and by the time he registers no sex is going to be happening, yrz is long gone and enjoying her brand new book. 

after that, lbh and yrz end up seeing each other (mostly because lbh is trying to impress this woman and nothing is working) and yrz is like stop being a creep, i’m not interested in you. lbh needs to drink his respect woman juice and downsize on his harem a bit. yrz wouldn’t touch that with a twenty foot pool. 

anyway i think it comes to a head when they both get doused in pa pa pa juice and lbh is like oh this is more familiar, shall we? and yrz is like bitch. and goes to a brothel in the city instead. at this point yrz and lbh are more like antagonistic buddies than anything else. lbh has too many wives and zero friends. 

lbh starts developing some squishy feelings and is like what the fuck is this?? gross?? but he says nothing because he doesn’t get it. 

then the cross over happens, bing-ge vs bing-mei!!! and after than happens, yrz is just chilling at home and lbh shows up at her place like really fucked up and subdued. he’s like ‘why him? why did he get the good teacher? what did he do right?’ 

yrz is like... hm. emotions. ew. she trys anyway because she’s finally ready to admit that she does like this trash goblin at least a little. so she takes care of him while he’s being depressed. lbh cooks for her and she’s like. this is so fucking good. thank you. 

and lbh is just in love now. it’s nothing like he feels for his wives, but yrz makes lbh feels safe and accepted. it’s a comforting and comfortable love. yrz’s stupid little house is more of a home than lbh’s stupid palaces. 

look. i stand by the head cannon that all lbh wants is to be a househusband, no matter what version im talking about. 

lbh vanishes for a whole night. yrz is like hm, my house feels empty now. weird! and then lbh comes back and announces that he just divorced all his wives. he doesn’t want to be powerful anymore so can i stay herer with you. 

yrz is like... sure. 

and then there’s a long, long courtship and lbh marries yrz and archives his dream of just being fucking happy. the end!

[brindlestorm]

My Truth or Yours?

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5

“I never thought I’d say this; but the best thing I can prescribe for you, Dustpaw, is more battle training!” Spottedleaf chuckled.

Dustpaw’s head shot up looking shocked, and Ravenpaw twitched his whiskers in amusement. Who ever heard of a medicine cat telling a cat to fight more often?

“You were definitely onto something when you told me that you sleep better after a battle training session than hunting. Poppy seeds can only do so much for growing pangs, what you really need is to stretch your muscles in different ways to keep you from getting stiff, hunting does the opposite of that.”

Redtail flicked his tail over his apprentice’s ears, “You’re almost bigger than me y’know. I’ve taught you how to be quick and clever in a fight because I thought you and your brother would end up the same size. I think it might be best to have Tigerclaw take over your training in that area, you’ll probably be as big as him!”

“Maybe even as big as Lionheart!” Ravenpaw teased as well.

Dustpaw flattened his ears and looked away, “No one could be as big as Lionheart,” he mumbled.

“Okay, as big as Whitestorm then.” Ravenpaw said, “Though I’m pretty sure they’re both smaller than they look, not by much, but have you seen how much fur they have? Without it they’d be tiny!”

“Are you looking to test that theory?” Growled a large yellow tom as he squeezed himself into the already crowded den. His voice sounded annoyed but one could still see the twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

Ravenpaw ducked his head in embarrassment, “N-no thanks! Sorry Lionheart!”

“Alright, the rest of you need to leave now so I can deal with Lionheart. Let me guess, you stepped on another thorn?” Spottedleaf said as she shooed the other three cats out of her den.

“Three actually, all on the same paw” Lionheart’s voice faded away as the three padded back into the clearing.

“It's been a long day for the both of you. You two can take the morning off and sleep in a bit, I’ll speak with Tigerclaw about a joint training session tomorrow. You did well, so rest up!” Redtail told the brothers, scanning the clearing for Tigerclaw.

“C’mon Ravenpaw!” Dustpaw chirped, “Do y’think Sandpaw wants to hear about how I caught that massive hawk?”

The pale molly’s head jerked up as she was leaving the nursery, “Hardly! You’ve been gloating all evening about it, why don’t you tell Graykit instead? I’m sure he’d love to hear about how the mighty Dustpaw saved the deputy from a hawk!”

Dustpaw’s face fell for a moment, but perked up at the thought of telling the kit about his heroic feat. He trotted into the nursery as Sandpaw left, not caring that Ravenpaw didn’t follow after him.

Ravenpaw instead followed after Sandpaw, trying not to let the fur on the back of his neck rise as he felt the deputy watching him from afar.

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

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes as he watched his apprentice spar with his brother. Ravenpaw was being rather tight-lipped about what happened during his assessment a half moon ago and Tigerclaw feared the worst, his pacifistic apprentice attacked the deputy and got lucky when the hawk showed up.

Great Starclan though, if Dustpaw kept gloating about it he’d get more than a few clouts this session.

“And then I jumped up just like this!” Dustpaw said excitedly, rearing up on his hindlegs to come crashing down on his brother.

Unfortunately for Dustpaw, Ravenpaw was actually focusing during this session, and took the opportunity to swerve to the side and shove his brother over. Watching Dustpaw flail to the ground, Tigerclaw couldn’t help but share a chuckle with Redtail as Dustpaw shook the sand from his pelt and glared half-heartedly at Ravenpaw.

“No fair! I was showing you how to catch a hawk, you should be grateful I’m even trying to help you!” Dustpaw sniffed.

“I thought this session was about battle training, not hunting. Didn’t Spottedleaf tell you not to hunt too much this moon?” Ravenpaw teased back. “I think catching hawks counts as that, if you ask me.”

“I still can’t believe my sister told you that, and during leafbare as well.” Redtail muttered.

Tigerclaw rolled his eyes and padded over to the apprentices, nosing Dustpaw into a neater crouch than what he started with. 

“Keep your paws tucked and in line with each other, Dustpaw. If that’s the stance you used to take on a hawk, I’m amazed that you even managed to keep it down.” Tigerclaw said gruffly.

Dustpaw nodded and shuffled his paws into place, checking for Tigerclaw’s reaction to make sure he had done it right. Tigerclaw schooled his expression to not give it away, Dustpaw would have to learn by instinct to fall into the correct position.

He flicked his tail signalling to Ravenpaw that he should return to the edge of the clearing. “Attack me.” Tigerclaw ordered simply.

“I thought I was fighting Ravenpaw?” Dustpaw asked, confused.

Tigerclaw gently swatted his paw over the apprentice’s ears, making him duck and jump back. “I said, attack me.”

This time Dustpaw reacted without hesitating, hurtling for Tigerclaw’s flank. The warrior easily sidestepped him just as Ravenpaw had, but this time he found the apprentice tangling himself in his paws, trying to trip him from beneath. Had he been any other warrior, that method would have worked immediately.

Unfortunately for Dustpaw, Tigerclaw was still much bigger than the other, and he swiftly dropped his weight onto the apprentice. Of course he held back enough to not smother him, but had it been a true battle he would not have received that mercy.

Dustpaw clawed his way out from under Tigerclaw, gasping for breath. He spun around on unsteady paws and tried to jump on Tigerclaw again, but the warrior just held a paw in his face to keep him from moving forward.

“You fight like a cat much smaller than how you’ll grow up to be, it's good to not rely on strength alone but you do still need to learn to use it to your advantage.”

“While we’re at it, how about I take Ravenpaw for some training as well?” Redtail suggested. “I can’t teach Dustpaw to fight like you can, Tigerclaw. But I imagine Ravenpaw can learn a thing or two from me.”

Tigerclaw eyed the deputy for a moment but nodded quickly, it wouldn’t do to deny the deputy such a logical request. As long as they stayed in the clearing it should be fine.

Redtail beckoned Ravenpaw to the other side and crouched. Tigerclaw caught the fearful expression on his apprentice’s face but forced himself to focus on Dustpaw. Surely Redtail wouldn’t try anything with two other cats to witness, right?

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

A moon had passed and the weather had turned worse, they had already lost Poppydawn, a death Longtail seemed to be taking personally, and Tigerclaw feared that his grandfather Adderfang may be next to go.

“We should take a patrol past our borders,” Tigerclaw suggested. “Not too far, but enough to scout out possible hunting spots. Perhaps upriver along the Riverclan border?”

Bluestar nodded slowly, exhaustion making her eyes appear dull. Like many leaders before her, she had refused to eat until everyone else in the clan had a chance to have at least a mouthful of what little prey there was to go around, even the warriors and apprentices came before her. Spottedleaf found herself jumping constantly between her leader and her former mentor who was sick with greencough after taking care of all the patients himself.

“That may be for the best, Tigerclaw. How about you lead the patrol since it was your idea? Take the three fittest cats you can and catch whatever you can find on the way back.” The blue leader rasped, fluffing up her pelt in the cold.

Somehow, it only made her appear smaller.

Tigerclaw considered his options, Darkstripe and Longtail seemed to have enough energy most days, and it wouldn’t hurt to take Thistleclaw as well. Maybe he’d be a little less tense if he could do something worthwhile for the clan, for all his faults, he knew his old mentor couldn’t stand by and watch the clan starve.

“Tigerclaw if you don’t mind, I’d like to take Ravenpaw hunting with me today. You can have Dustpaw tag along with your patrol, it’ll be a good experience for him.”

“What do you want my apprentice for?” Tigerclaw asked, genuinely confused. After a whole moon of joint sessions, Tigerclaw assumed that Redtail had no interest in Ravenpaw beyond training, but why would the deputy want to take him out alone?

“He has a peculiar method in hunting, he hardly touched the ground during his assessment. I doubt he learned that from you, Tigerclaw, no offense. If he’s that good at tree hunting, we may be able to track down some squirrel nests higher up.”

Bluestar answered for him, “That sounds like a good idea Redtail, but I don’t want you hunting any of the squirrels you two may find.”

“I thought the whole idea was finding more prey for the clan?” Redtail asked, perplexed.

“When I was an apprentice, my sister came up with the idea of baiting the mice with cobnuts. Ravenpaw seems to have a similar mindset, I heard him earlier talking to himself about leaving nuts near prey-holes to feed them. It's an odd idea, but if we make sure the prey in our territory can survive Leafbare, we’re sure to have a good supply of food by newleaf.”

Tigerclaw blinked, he never would have thought of that himself. It still sounded like an inane idea to him, feeding the prey that’s meant to feed the clan, but the surety of having food when the cold passed sounded too good to pass up.

Redtail stood up, “I’ll take Mousefur and Runningwind, they’re not the best climbers but they can scout the tree roots for other prey-dens. If we both leave now, we may be done by sun-down, there’s no time to lose!”

Bluestar flicked her tail in dismissal, closing her eyes tiredly. The two warriors got to their paws, leaving their leader to rest.

Tigerclaw hurried to the apprentices den, asking Redtail to summon the warriors while he gathered their apprentices.

“Dustpaw, Ravenpaw! You two are on patrol, Ravenpaw you’ll be with Mousefur, Runningwind, and Redtail. He’ll explain along the way, Dustpaw you’ll be with me and a few other warriors as hunting scouts. We’re going beyond our borders today so be on your guard.”

The pair hurried out of their nests where they had been sheltering from the worst of the cold. Sandpaw was out doing some light hunting with Whitestorm, finally able to start training again. A good thing too, Spottedleaf was adamant that Dustpaw be relieved from hunting duties until his growth spurt hit. Tigerclaw couldn’t remember getting special treatment like that when he was an apprentice, but there was no arguing with a medicine cat, and Sandpaw could more than make up for Dustpaw’s absence on patrols.

Thistleclaw scowled as he trudged out of his den, Mousefur, Darkstripe, Longtail, and Runningwind blinking wearily as they trailed behind.

“What’s this about scouting?” Thistleclaw growled to Redtail. “I suppose Bluestar’s perfect deputy will be leading?”

“Actually, I am.” Tigerclaw mewed smoothly, guiding the cantankerous senior warrior aside, flicking his tail to let Darkstripe and Longtail know that they had to follow as well.

“Redtail will be leading a patrol to scout for prey-dens to leave nuts and seeds for, we’ll be going beyond our borders to bring back food for the clan.” He explained.

Thistleclaw let out a hearty chuckle, “They’re off to feed our prey? Who’s hare-brained idea was that! Bluestar must be about to lose her mind with this next life if she supported something as stupid as that. Must run in the family.”

Tigerclaw had to keep himself from biting back with more than just words, “It was my apprentice’s idea, and it’s hardly hare-brained. Didn’t your mate, Bluestar’s sister, have a similar idea in your youth? Are you calling Snowfur hare-brained as well?”

Thistleclaw flinched at the sound of his late mate’s name, baring his teeth as he remembered how she died. Tigerclaw knew it was a low blow, those types of old wounds never heal well. But Thistleclaw seemed to get the message he was trying to get across and kept quiet as the patrol continued on it’s way towards the border.

Tigerclaw opened his jaw to take in the scents and grunted. “We may as well mark the border while we’re here. Spread out, Darkstripe and Longtail can see to the border from the twoleg-bridge to Four-Trees. Thistleclaw will take Sunning Rocks. Dustpaw and I will continue making our way up-river, I expect to see you all by Sunhigh at the furthest reaches of our border.”

“Isn’t that near Twolegplace?” Darkstripe sneered.

“There are woods still left on our side of the fence, that’s where we’ll be going.” Tigerclaw replied shortly. “Go, now.” he ordered.

The three warriors nodded and sped off, there was a gleam in Thistleclaw’s eyes that Tigerclaw didn’t like, but there was nothing he could do but keep going forward with Dustpaw.

“I don’t care what Spottedleaf says, if you spot any prey while we’re moving, I expect you to at least try and catch it. Understood?”

“Yes Tigerclaw.”

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

Ravenpaw was shaking in his paws as he followed Redtail to the Great Sycamore tree.

Mousefur and Runningwind were already given their orders, gone to collect seeds and any nuts they could find that weren’t needed by Spottedleaf and leave them in front of prey-holes or common foraging spots in the forest.

“Let’s see how high you can climb, Ravenpaw.” Redtail said, tail curled over his paws as he watched the apprentice with glittering eyes. “Stop when you hit a branch that you feel is connected to a neighboring tree and I’ll come join you.”

Ravenpaw nodded, stomach churning at the thought of what Redtail would do when he got up beside him. Would he be pushed from his perch? If he went too high he could snap his neck on one of the branches on the way down, he’d have to make sure that that couldn’t happen.

But then, it wasn’t called the Great Sycamore for nothing.

Nervously, Ravenpaw began to scale the great tree, not daring to look down at what Redtail might be doing below. Once he reached a branch that looked to be almost interwoven with a tree nearby, he called down to Redtail to report it.

In a few heartbeats, Redtail was next to him, peering around to get a good look. “Good work Ravenpaw, I don’t see any bird nests up here but there could be a few squirrel-holes nearby. Let’s get moving, be on the lookout for any nuts you can grab along the way.”

And so on they went, deputy and apprentice, balancing along the branches scouring the trees for anything prey-related. They stocked a few empty bird nests with seeds for when the birds returned and startled quite a few squirrels that were sleeping in their dens. Had Ravenpaw not been so nervous being next to Redtail, he would have been tempted to at least catch some of the older squirrels. But Bluestar’s orders rang in his mind so he held back.

It wasn’t until the scent of pines hit his nose that Ravenpaw realized something might be wrong.

“Stop.” Redtail ordered suddenly. 

“Why are we at the border?” Ravenpaw breathed, fur bristling as he recognized the clearing below as the place he had so foolishly challenged the deputy not too long ago.

“I have some business to attend to, and you’re going to help.” Redtail replied simply, nosing the apprentices towards the trunk of the tree.

“You... what? You think I’m going to help you betray our clan even more? That’s insane, I won’t-”

“Yes you will, and when we’re done I promise everything will make sense.”

“I’ll run!” Ravenpaw threatened. “I- I’ll run and tell Bluestar right away what you’re doing, she’ll banish you forever!”

“If you were going to tell, you would have done it already. Now be quiet and do as you’re told. They’re here.”

And just as Redtail said it, a huge white tom with jet-black paws emerged from the bushes, followed by two brown tabbies.

“Hello again, old friend.” Blackfoot purred, padding up to the Thunderclan deputy with confidence. “Is this the little helper you promised?”

“Yes Blackfoot, I’m sure he’ll be of great use today.”

Ravenpaw gulped as he took in the three Shadowclan warriors before him. He would have to play along with whatever Redtail had planned, one claw out of line and he’d lose more than just his pelt before sun-down.

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

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when Tigerclaw, Longtail, Darkstripe, and Dustpaw returned to their own territory. Thistleclaw never showed up, though Longtail said Thistleclaw was going to try hunting at the base of the rocks. Tigerclaw could only shrug as he was focused on catching a pheasant a few fox-lengths ahead. Dustpaw had managed to catch a mouse but preferred to softly call out prey locations and give directions on how to catch them.

Darkstripe almost shredded the apprentice who had unknowingly given orders to warriors his senior. Tigerclaw stopped him though and told the pair to listen to whatever Dustpaw said, if the apprentice wanted to feel like he was in charge then Tigerclaw would treat it as another assessment. It would be good to know if the tabby’s ego matched his actual abilities, and being able to lead a patrol was one of them.

Surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly to some, Dustpaw did well and the patrol managed to return home with three mice, a squirrel, and one fat pheasant for the elders to share. Dustpaw even made sure to let Tigerclaw know where he had spotted a few burrows that could be rabbit warrens. Longtail had wanted to check them out until Tigerclaw pointed out that they could just as easily be fox-dens.

As they were walking beside the river, Darkstripe’s head shot up. “I hear fighting! It sounds like it’s coming from Sunning Rocks!”

Tigerclaw froze, wracking his mind to remember the border patrol schedule for the day. Redtail had set dawn and dusk patrols to do the full route each to make room for more hunting patrols. Which meant....

“Thistleclaw must be fighting them alone.” Tigerclaw breathed, eyes wide with worry. 

“He doesn’t really think he can reclaim the rocks on his own, does he?” Dustpaw asked, ears flattened.

“Of course not! The patrol probably attacked him because he was alone.” Tigerclaw scoffed, though in his mind he had to wonder the same thing. 

Tigerclaw shook his head and pelted downriver, his patrol following close behind, but what they saw shocked them all.

Crookedstar stood on the Thunderclan side of the border, his jaws clamped around Thistleclaw’s neck as his eyes burned with hatred. Oakheart, the Riverclan deputy, was trying to soothe a soaked young apprentice who looked to be in shock. Blood dripped into her eye as she sat there shaking, a paw occasionally coming up to touch her neck. It didn’t look to be bleeding, but the poor molly could barely sit up straight without the help of her deputy.

“What happened here?” Tigerclaw snarled, leaping down mouse-lengths in front of the Riverclan leader.

Crookedstar dropped Thistleclaw like a stone, his broken jaw agape for a moment when he saw the patrol behind him that were inching around to close off their access to the river.

“He attacked my daughter.” Crookedstar defended. “She’s barely nine moons and he attacked her, tried to hold her underwater until she drowned.”

“I thought you fish-faces could hold your breath long enough, you lot never hesitate to try that with our warriors.” Tigerclaw replied coolly. 

He bent low to press an ear to Thistleclaw’s chest, though he already knew what he would find. No pulse, his eyes were already as dull and clouded as his mother’s were not too long ago.

Is that why you felt the need to fight? Tigerclaw wondered to himself. Did I miss you hurting, hiding it away only to reopen the wound myself when I brought up Snowfur? Forgive me old friend, you will be missed.

“And he is dead.” Tigerclaw said flatly. “I was taught that an honorable warrior doesn’t need to kill to win a battle unless in self-defence”

“I know the code!” Crookedstar snapped. “Perhaps he was the one who didn’t know it, he tried to kill her!”

“She’s alive, isn’t she?” Tigerclaw shook his head. “Longtail, Darkstripe. Let them pass and help me get Thistleclaw onto my back. You three will have to carry the prey yourselves.”

Crookedstar blinked, “You’re letting us go?”

“He was fighting to take back the rocks on his own, wasn’t he?”

Oakheart nodded as he helped the apprentice to her paws.

“Bluestar wouldn’t have supported this, though I doubt she’d support the death of a clanmate as well. We’ll report this to Bluestar, and if she decides to start a war over it at least there’ll be a more equal battle when the time comes.”

Longtail moved aside reluctantly, but Darkstripe stood where was, leveling a glare with the three trespassers and spitting at Crookedstar’s feet as he passed.

Dustpaw just sat crouched where he was, shaking. It was then that Tigerclaw noticed the pool of blood forming at his paws, it was almost never-ending. He may not have felt too squeamish about it, but he understood that the apprentice would be. Silently, Tigerclaw went over to the nearest tree root and clawed off some moss to stuff into the wound. It wouldn’t last for long but hopefully it would stay until they reached the camp again.

Dustpaw took the mice and went ahead, stuttering that he would inform the elders to and Spottedleaf to prepare them while Tigerclaw and the others took a slower pace so as not to let Thistleclaw’s body slip off his back.

By the time they reached the gorse tunnel, Redtail and Ravenpaw were just returning looking disheveled.

“What happened?” Redtail mewed in shock.

Longtail, who had been carrying the pheasant, stopped to explain the situation quietly. Redtail’s gaze darkened when he heard the news, looking as outraged as Tigerclaw wished he felt.

But instead he just felt empty, hollow.

He trudged forward, not looking at Ravenpaw as he went past. Heading straight to the clearing where the elders were waiting to help get Thistleclaw down. Spottedleaf was nearby with lavender and more moss.

While she attended to the body, Tigerclaw went to Bluestar’s den only to be called back  down by Spottedleaf.

“Best not to go in there, Bluestar is sick and it might be whitecough. I don’t need it spreading around the camp.” She told him quietly.

Tigerclaw stared blankly at her but nodded. Instead he went to take the mice to the queens. Goldenflower and Willowpelt must be hungry, he could tell them what happened while he was there.

He had barely taken two steps into the warm den when he saw the look on Goldenflower’s face. It was full of heart-wrenching sympathy and part of Tigerclaw wanted to turn away, deny the comfort she was ready to offer him.

But he couldn’t.

He sank down next to her, not letting his legs buckle until he knew he wasn’t about to fall on top of her. She would be kitting soon and he didn’t want to hurt her. Instead he just let himself lay beside her with closed eyes as she gently washed his flank, cleaning off the blood that had stained it from carrying Thistleclaw by himself for so long.

Just for a moment, he told himself as he let himself be lulled to sleep. Just for a moment he’d let himself forget about the worries and troubles of his clan while he silently grieved for his mentor. When the sun had fully set, he would go out and grieve with everyone else, but for now he would stay with his, hopefully soon to be mate, friend and listen to the oblivious chatter made by Graykit as he bounced around the den.

Maybe, if he had stayed in the clearing, he would have heard Ravenpaw speaking in hushed whispers with Redtail, eyes gleaming as they spoke of their day.

Maybe, he would have noticed how his apprentice was drenched in the scent of ferns attempting to hide the stench of marshes.

But he didn’t, he was spending some much needed time with Goldenflower after the shock of finding his mentor dead in the jaws of the Riverclan leader.

For now, Tigerclaw let himself believe that one day the sun would shine a little brighter on his clan, and that was enough to bring him peace for the night.

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

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ITS DONE

Also, please let me know if you feel this fic is starting to cross a line! I want to explore an au where Tigerclaw was still in the wrong but his backstory is more than just Ambitious Brown Tabby Who Is Strong And Wants More Power.

But like, not at the expense of offending others, y’know?

Hope you all enjoyed!

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

hey! so, i've been a huge fan of your writing for a while now. you always offer me so much inspiration within your stories, i absolutely love your ability bring life to all the characters and settings you write about. and idk if you're still accepting requests for your otp mix n' match challenge, nor if you'd even consider doing this request haha, but- could i perhaps request 15 & 11? i am super interested in potentially seeing what your take on my personal otp would be! much love either way

Hi, this has been in my drafts for like.... forever. Since April or May, I think? Oh boy. My apologies, I completely forgot about it until I stumbled across it today. But hey, better now than never, I suppose. Also thank you for your kinds words! I truly appreciate it! :D

“Louis and Mitch pretend to date to make others jealous but you know what happens.”

Read on AO3

This is a joke. 

This is a joke and he’s the butt of it. 

How did the fuck did he end up here?

Mitch knows this has to be a joke because Louis did not go through this much effort for it to not be a joke.

The remaining fries on the plate have gone cold, mushy beneath the squirt of bright cheddar cheese. Walter’s Diner has the best fries in this hellhole of a town, and usually, they’re the first thing he chows down before finishing his burger or even touching his shake. 

Fuck. Fucking hell. 

It’s hard to concentrate on and enjoy his food with Louis’ arm behind his neck, hand casually resting over Mitch’s shoulder as he and Violet argue whether they should order a basket of donut holes or four slices of peach pie for dessert. 

“They’re stuffed,” Violet says, pointing at the menu, reading, “‘Our bite-sized delights are baked to perfection, stuffed with our delicious cream cheese filling, and tossed in a heavenly mixture of cinnamon and sugar.’ And you’re telling me that doesn’t sound good?”

 “And you’re telling me that a slice of Walter’s famous peach pie doesn’t make your mouth water?” Louis sighs. “I’m salivating just thinking about it.”

Violet wrinkles her nose. 

“Peach pie sucks.”

“You suck.” 

“You suck.”

“C’mon guys,” Aasim butts in, eyes rolling in that exasperated way he gets whenever Louis and Violet do this. “Donuts suck, pie sucks, and you both suck. Let’s order ice cream.”

With a hand pressed against his chest, Louis lets out his fakest, most dramatic gasp. Next comes the obnoxious- and probably offensive- British accent.

“Why, my dear Mitch, Violet, did you hear what this lickspittle just said to us?”

Violet’s last tater tot goes flying as a response, bouncing off Aasim’s nose. 

“Are you serious?” Aasim snatches the tater tot back up, throwing it at Louis. 

“Hey! Rude!” Louis laughs, his arm slipping out from behind Mitch to try and catch the tot. “What did I do?”

Without a thought, Mitch grabs the offending tot and tosses it back at Aasim, who catches it and lets it drop onto his plate. 

“Knock it off, guys,” he says. “It shouldn’t take this long to decide on a dessert. I vote pie.” 

That makes Louis smile.

“Ah, a man after my own heart,” he sighs, shifting closer against Mitch’s side- Jesus Christ almighty- and pressing quick kiss against his cheek. 

Fuck everything. Fuck, fuck-

This causes Mitch to suck in a breath, only to cover it up by coughing into his sleeve. God, his face is going to melt off, especially if Louis keeps looking at him like that. 

“That’s not a surprise,” Violet rolls her eyes, ignoring the kiss and Mitch’s coughing fit. “He sucks, too.” 

“Can’t we just agree that we all suck?” Louis says. 

“Can’t you ever shut your pie hole?” 

“Can’t we all just order different desserts?” Aasim pleads, finger jabbing at the menu on the table to emphasize his point. 

Louis and Violet look at one another, puzzled as if that idea never occurred to them. At this point, Mitch didn’t even care about dessert, didn’t really even want any. 

Louis shifts and there’s the warm, distracting press of his knee against his and Mitch has never been so tense in his entire life. 

He's too fucking close. Too close. Too close. And he kissed him. On the cheek, sure, but fucking hell-

Never has he felt such tension in his body, even when something obnoxiously embarrassing passes his father’s mouth, or when Willy’s fingers slip from the branches of whatever tree he’s climbing and he almost plummets to the ground. 

He doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that Aasim won’t stop gawking at them every time they do anything, or that Louis is fucking comfortable doing the things that make Aasim gawk in the first place. 

This whole thing is nothing but a cruel joke that Mitch was stupid enough to take the bait for.

And for what? A promise of Louis buying him lunch every day for a month? Was a free meal every day worth this level of anxiety and... gross feelings? 

“Fine,” says Violet. “I’ll eat a whole basket myself, but don’t any of you dare eyeball them. You had your chance.”

“I won’t eyeball your donuts if you don’t eyeball my pie.” 

“I won’t because pie sucks.”

“You suck!” 

“Oh my god,” Aasim abruptly twists around, desperately tapping on the shoulder of a now startled waitress. “Two slices of peach pie, a basket of donuts holes, and an ice cream cone to go. Please. I want to go home.” 

The waitress stares at him, baffled, before nodding and getting away from their table as quickly as possible. 

Louis chuckles, arm slipping back behind Mitch as he says, “I think she likes you.”

“Shut up!” Aasim frowns. “I swear to god...”

Louis continues to laugh, but he steals a glance at Mitch. Something softens and it’s... Mitch doesn’t know what the fuck it is. Ever since they started this, sometimes Louis will look at him like that.

From what he can tell, Louis doesn’t even look at the girl like that, and she’s the entire reason they’re doing this. 

That girl- what the fuck’s her name? He couldn’t have possibly tuned Louis out every time he mentions her- the redhead from his art class or whatever. She’s the one who started this bullshit.

About a month ago, Louis wrote him a note detailing, “I need your help. Meet me by the school entrance during lunch? It’s important,” while they’re in the middle of a pop quiz. As if Mitch didn’t have enough to worry about with all the damn fractions scattering the quiz, but then he was left worry about what the hell Louis needed his help with. 

Also, he did this without Mr. Garcia noticing. How the fuck that’s possible is beyond him. If they were caught, both of their quizzes would’ve been ripped to shreds. Mitch didn’t need that shit right now.

Then, the entrance was barely in sight by the time Louis snuck up on him, grabbed his arm, and proceeded to drag him outside and across the parking lot so they could hop into the safety of Mitch’s hand-me-down truck despite Mitch’s protests. He hadn’t cleaned his truck of its fast-food wrappers or loose sheets of forgotten homework in weeks, and that left him worried that the air freshener didn’t work. 

Finally, Louis managed to explain this so-called plan of his to Mitch with a straight face, not cracking once. He actually sounds serious enough that Mitch might’ve believed him if this bullshit wasn’t so... so bullshit.

“I really like her,” Louis had said, “and Violet said this kind of thing could get her attention.” 

Of course, Mitch didn’t agree so easily because the plan was- nd still is- stupid.

“You think pretending to date me is gonna get her attention?” he scoffed. “I’m not fucking doing this. Ask Vi.”

“I can’t ask Vi. She doesn’t date dudes and I’m pretty sure Brody would, like, break me in half or something.”

“Fine, Aasim then.” 

“C’mon, you know Aasim would never.” 

“Well,” Mitch threw his hands up. “I would never! Find someone else because I’m not gonna be your fake boyfriend so that you can make what’s-her-nut jealous!”

Jokes on him- Mitch’s been Louis’ fake boyfriend for weeks now because he hasn’t wooed what’s-her-nut yet. Which wasn’t that the whole point? They just pretend while she’s around? Not when they’re alone or when hanging out with Violet and Aasim? 

Louis said it was to make it as real as possible, just in case what’s-her-nut found out. That doesn’t explain why Louis is the way he is when it’s just the two of them. Doesn’t explain the kiss on the cheek. 

Mitch eats a cold fry, cringing at the taste. He can feel Violet looking at him while Louis goes on about something that happened in choir. When Mitch meets her eye, she smirks, raising a knowing brow. Mitch gives her a light kick under the table. 

When the waitress finally brings them their dessert in separate bags, she doesn’t stick around long and avoids eye contact with Aasim. 

“Hey, Vi,” Louis leans over her shoulder as they’re leaving the diner, “Can I have a donut hole?”

“I will stab you, your boyfriend, and your pie.”

“Hey, not my pie!” Louis grabs Mitch’s hand, knocking his shoulder into his. “Or my Mitch!” 

Fucking hell. 

Mitch doesn’t know how much longer he can handle this. 

[castielscarma]

Undercover

Part 9 of the #SpnStayatHome challenge @bend-me-shape-me​ @helianthus21​ @pray4jensen​ (it’s long. 11.5k) 

Dean paced back and forth in the Bunker kitchen, playing with a slinky. It was the metallic kind that had a heavy, sweet feeling to it as he held it in his hand. And the sound wasn't too bad either. It almost felt soothing, like the tick-tock sound a hypnotist used to lull his victims into a creepy sleep.

“Dean, would you stop that?” Sam looked up from reading his newspaper, an irritated frown on his face.

“What? Does the sweet sound of the magic spiral disturb your sudoku-solving abilities? Or is it crosswords this time?” Dean played with the slinky as he raised an eyebrow in question. “Come on, Sammy, don't tell me you're not even a little bit tempted to play with this wonder of technology?”

“The only wonder is that I haven't grabbed your slinky yet and thrown it out the window,” Sam muttered.

“Good luck with that, we live underground.” Dean grabbed hold of the slinky while taking a handful of peanuts from a small bowl on the table.

Sam reached for the bowl and pulled it towards himself. “Dude, these are meant to be for the Pad Thai later.”

Dean looked affronted. “Hey, you can't just put nuts in the snacks bowl – and the bowl is in a public space, so it's a free for all anyway – and expect the nuts not to get eaten. They're practically begging for it. Roasted, salted, and with a touch of sour cream. It's 'Nuttylious'. Man, they really were on point with that slogan.”

Sam just sighed and pushed the newspaper towards Dean. “You've been without a cause for almost fourteen days. You need to go out and hunt, Dean, and more importantly, I need you to go out and hunt. We need to do something while we try to find a way to defeat Chuck.”

Dean frowned and went for the bowl again. It earned him a slap on the hand. “Hey, I bought those!” When he saw that Sam wouldn't budge, he frowned. “Fine, I'll take a look at the creepy case. Let's see.”

After Sam had given Dean a few minutes and Dean still hadn't said anything, he couldn't be quiet anymore. “So, what do you think?”

Dean looked longingly at the peanuts. “I think it's really not cool for you to stash those nuts away.”

Sam smacked him on the arm. “I mean about the case, Dean!”

Dean sank down on the chair next to Sam. “You mean the killer that targets grooms?”

“Well, not just grooms. The second vic was a newlywed. The wedding had been less than three weeks earlier. The wife, Mrs. Karstark found Mr. Karstark on their kitchen floor. Body was drained and the heart was missing.”

“Mrs. Karstark felt betrayed. He cheated on her. I've seen Game of Thrones. They're a bloodthirsty lot.”

Sam shook his head. “Funny, Dean. The first victim was a groom. Found dead in the bedroom, two days before the wedding was to take place. Same m.o. No blood whatsoever left in the body and both the heart and stomach were gone.”

Dean sniffed. “Well, it looks like there's a monster lurking about. What do the local authorities say? Any leads?”

“Nope, they are going by the theory that a madman is on the prowl.”

“A madman? What about the drained blood?”

“They have no clue. Oh and this was also found on the scene – “ Sam pushed over a photo and a piece of paper towards Dean.

Dean looked at the photo at what appeared to be horizontal stains on a wooden floor. “What am I looking at? So the Karstarks were messy? We thinking the monster has a grudge against bad housekeeping? Maybe it just wants them to keep the area nice and clean. Would explain the loss of blood in the bodies. A bleeding body is a bitch to clean.” Dean glanced at the paper next to the photo. “Hold on, Sammy? These all happened in the same neighborhood?”

“Yes and from what the police think, the attacks happened at night time.”

“Mm, must be someone close by then. So either a monster or maybe a witch with a spell? Okay, I'm game. Let's go.”

Sam grabbed the papers and photos. “To Okay it is.”

Dean frowned. “I already agreed, Sam. Just gonna pack. Need my driving snacks.”

“No, the town's called Okay. It's a five-hour drive.”

Dean grinned. “Okay. Something is definitely not OK in Okay.”

“Then we're on the case?”

“Hell yeah.”

Six hours later Dean, Sam, and Cas arrived in the small town of Okay and pulled into a parking lot.

“It wasn't any five hours, but we're finally here. The fine town of Okay.” Dean looked around. “It looks kind of deserted to be the buffet table for a monster but hey, what do I know about monster diets? So, we going with the FBI thing or?”

Sam shook his head and smiled. “The trip only took that long because of you, Dean.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “It was a Thai buffet. You sample everything, that's the rule.”

Cas nodded. “He does like his Thai food, Sam.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah – About the FBI thing, Dean. I've given this some thought, and I think that it's in the best interest of the case that I don the FBI coat.”

Dean blinked. “What? You? You as in you solo? What about me and Cas?”

Cas looked back at Sam, an eyebrow raised. “You have a better idea than going in as FBI?”

Sam cleared his throat again and smiled slightly. “I was thinking that you and Cas need to be in the thick of it. We need to lure this creature out, whatever it is. And the common denominator is – “

“That it leaves its victims dry? That the victims all drove a Prius? I won't abandon Baby for some goddamn – “

“They were all in relationships newly formed, just married or really in love.”

Dean blinked. “So... you want me and Cas to do what? Play house?”

“Yes, let's call it that. I knew you guys would agree. There's a vacant house for rent on the same street as were two of the victims lived. I sent in the application yesterday. Since you were the only ones that applied and your records were spotless as were your references, and the recent murders make them eager to rent – “ Sam pointed at his phone “ – you're now officially renters, Mr. and Mr. Krushnic.”

He slid over an envelope that Cas grabbed. “I must say, Sam, you've been working very diligently with this case. We'll solve it in no time.” Cas opened the car door and stepped outside.

When Dean didn't follow, Cas poked his head back in. “If you don't like Krushnic we can always go with Plant.”

“It's not the last name I have a problem with! “Dean sputtered as he stepped out of the Impala.

Both Sam and Cas looked at Dean with patient but questioning faces. When Dean didn't elaborate further, Cas spoke. “If you're worried about our normal routines in the Bunker not being followed, nothing will change, Dean. I'll still make you coffee in the morning.”

Sam got out of the car, a smug look on his face. “See, nothing will change, Dean.”

Dean looked at Cas with huge eyes. “That's not – You know what? Gimme that folder, Sammy.”

Sam smiled and handed Dean the folder with the case information. “There's also some pamphlets for the local restaurants in there. Don't forget your bag, Dean Krushnic.”

“You couldn't have picked a better last name? What kind of name is Krushnic?”

Cas spoke up. “It does have a certain ring to it. I like it.

“The house is right over there. You'll receive the key shortly. Oh, and Miss. Lee, fiancee of the first victim lives right next door. I'll go and interview Jessica Karstark and we'll keep in touch on the phone afterward.”

“You not coming over?”

Sam shook his head. “You don't think it'll look suspicious if the FBI-agent that interviewed the people that last saw their loved ones dead under odd circumstances visit the new couple that just moved in? You just stay put. Act as normal as you can” – Sam raised a meaning eyebrow at Dean – “and I'll call you later.”

Dean grabbed the bag from the trunk. “I don't like this. Who says this monster, whatever the hell it is, will fall for me and Cas playing bait? Didn't you say relationships needed to be newly formed, like what? I've known Cas for over a decade. The monster will not fall for a stunt like that.”

“I'm sure you and Cas will be very convincing.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sam reached out and snagged Dean's keys.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Sam smiled patiently as he walked over to the Impala's driver seat. “I'm the FBI-agent. I need a car. Besides, you and Cas need to be at the house to lure out the creature. Try to find out what kind of monster we're dealing with.”

“You just gonna leave us here while you go play cop?”

“That's the plan. I'll play cop and you'll play house.” Sam pressed the gas and Baby roared to life.

“You got to be gentle! And don't park to close to the – “

Sam honked once as he drove off with the Impala.

Dean turned to Cas. “He better take care of Baby or I swear that – “

Cas grabbed his bag. “Sam is very much capable of taking care of Baby if you just let him.”

“Let him?! Did you see how he just floored – “

Cas was already a few steps ahead of Dean. “Come along, Mr. Krushnic. We have a house to move in to.”

The house was way better than a motel, so Dean couldn't really complain even if he wanted to. The kitchen was nice and modern, and Dean shouted excitedly at the garden out the back, not necessarily for the garden but for the huge outdoor grill that graced the space.

“Sweet, Cas. You see the size of that monster? We can barbecue some nice steaks on that grill.”

“It's very impressive, Dean.”

Back inside, Dean sat down in the L-shaped couch in the living room. The flatscreen was mounted on the wall and the house even had a minibar. “Oh, hell yeah, I'm really gonna like it here.”

Cas headed to the rooms upstairs. “We're not gonna stay here permanently, Dean.”

Like he didn't know that. “The screen is huge, Cas! Imagine us with a bowl of popcorn and a Western flick on, or a horror movie. 'Hatchet-Man 4 - the dull axe.' A classic.”

“Which side are you gonna take, Dean?”

Cas' voice sounded muted so Dean got up from the comfortable couch, – almost too comfortable, he felt himself dozing off – and followed him upstairs. “What are you shouting about?”

“I was just wondering which side you prefer?” Cas was standing in the bedroom.

There was a wardrobe there and the wall was painted in a soft blue-chalk paint. The huge window on the right side of the beds allowed the natural light to flood the room. Dean could imagine it being a nice view to wake up to. He could see another door that probably led to the on-suite bathroom but his eyes kept flitting back to the bed. He had totally forgotten about the sleeping.

“Um, I'm not really sure.”

“You do favor sleeping on your right side, Dean, so I'd suggest the right side of the bed. The additional closeness to the window will make it easier for you to wake up in the morning. Natural sunlight does wonders for when you want to wake up feeling refreshed.”

Dean swallowed. He was going to sleep in the same bed as Cas. They were gonna sleep together. Heat curled inside his stomach. Of course, they were not gonna sleep sleep together but Cas was going to be right next to him.

“Dean?”

Dean nodded. “Um, yeah Cas. That works fine. I'll do the right side.”

“Fine. Now that that's settled, let's see what we can gather about this case. We can shop for new bed linen, towels, and whatever else we need later.”

“Shopping for bed linen, Cas? Take it easy, there tiger.”

Cas gave him a strange look, so Dean cleared his throat. “I'll set up the laptop.”

An hour later, they had reread the police reports three times and not found any new leads.

Cas spoke up. “I think we should go over and interrogate Mrs. Lee. That way we can take a look at the crime scene. Maybe there's some hidden hex bags that the police overlooked?”

Dean rubbed his eyes. “So you think it's a witch?”

Cas got up and walked over to the kitchen. “That seems the most plausible scenario.”

“Yeah, what about the blood? What kind of vamp leaves them completely dry? I've looked at our vamps and the Carpathian kind. Might be a muroni. The bodies were drained of all blood.”

“Muroni? But those markings were not made by an animal, even by the looks of it, though the authorities might go for that angle.”As Cas opened a kitchen cabinet, he made a pleasing sound. “Not the usual, but it'll do.” He grabbed something and bend down, opening another cabinet.

“Cas, we're talking case here. What are you doing?”

“Well, since we're doing this husband chicanery I think we should go all in, Dean. So, as any good husband, I'm making you coffee.”

Dean's heart beat faster, which was ridiculous. It was just coffee, which Cas made him every morning. It was not like this coffee was different. “Uh, thanks.”

Cas was putting the ground coffee in the machine when he turned to Dean. “What do you prefer, honey, or sweetheart?”

Dean turned to Cas, all thoughts about what he'd just read erased. “I don't follow...”

“Since we are married, we need to have an affectionate nickname to call each other. That is standard among married couples I think.”

Cas seemed to be taking the marriage- ruse very seriously. As he should, Dean mused. They wanted to catch this monster, and if Dean needed to go all in – all in, in the name of the case of course – then he would. It was just the professional thing to do and Dean Winchester was a pro.

“I think honey would work.”

After he turned on the coffee-maker, Cas returned to the table. “Honey it is. How about you? What will you call me?”

Cas stared at Dean with such an honest expression that Dean had to turn away. “I don't know, it's not like I have given this much thought.” Which was a lie. In the deepest recesses of Dean's heart, he'd given much thought about how a life with Cas would be like, a slightly different life where they were more than just best friends hunting monsters together.

“I have a few suggestions that will pair nicely with honey,” Cas mused. After a beat of silence, he said. “How about 'hubs?”

“You're not going to call me 'hubs' in public, Cas. No way. Let me think.” He was silent for a few seconds, then he smiled. “ I got it! 'Beeloved'? You get it? Bee cause I'm the honey and you're the bee that...” Dean saw something flicker over Cas' face but it was gone so fast, that Dean was not sure if it hadn't just been his imagination.

“It is a nice joke but I do think we need to take this more seriously if we want to lure out the monster.”

“Yeah, monster.” The nickname was on the tip of Dean's tongue without a second thought. “Angel.” He cleared his throat. “Angel would work.”

Cas' smile was so earnest that Dean had to look away. “Honey and angel.”

A sudden knock on the door interrupted them. Maybe that was for the better, this whole fake marriage thing was getting under Dean's skin and only a couple of hours had passed. He needed a beer.

A woman dressed in a yellow summer dress flashed her smile as Dean opened the door. She had her hair up in a tight ponytail and her slanted eyes crinkled in the corners as she smiled. “Greetings. I'm Chiyoh Roman. I live just across the street and I'm the president of the HOA committee in this area. I'm so happy to have you here. Here.” She handed Dean a tiny basket stuffed with tea, candies, and fruit, all neatly wrapped in cellophane.

Dean looked at the basket and back at Chiyoh. Candies and fruit. Where were the beer and coffee?

“Here, let me take that, honey.” Cas swooped in and grabbed the basket from Dean. “Leaf tea? How thoughtful, we love this, don't we, Dean?” Cas casually kissed Dean on the cheek.

It was just a swift kiss but Dean's body reacted as if it was a love declaration. His stomach swooped as an unnamed feeling washed over him. His mouth went dry.

Cas had kissed him.

Dean's rational mind tried to tell him that it was all due to the undercover gig they had going on but his heart refused to listen to that. Already hope surged inside him, that maybe, just maybe Cas felt the same about him as Dean did.

Cas noticed that Dean was silent and gave him an odd look. “Thank you so much for the welcoming gift. Excuse my husband, it's been a long week with the move and all. He's usually more well behaved.” He extended his hand. “I'm Castiel Krushnic and this is my husband Dean.”

Chiyoh laughed. “Oh, I totally get that moving is rough.” She shook Cas' hand. “Chiyoh. Nice to meet you.”

Dean finally found himself and cleared his throat. “Sorry, Castiel is right. It was a long drive, moving can be exhausting. I'm Dean.”

“Nothing makes me happier than a handsome couple like you gracing our neighborhood with your presence. As long as the relationship is thriving, and not the grass, we'll be good.” She laughed again, a shrill sound that grated.

Dean narrowed his brows in confusion. “The grass?”

“Yes, HOA regulations stipulate that the grass might not grow above two inches. I suggest you buy an automover. It's much easier to keep the grass short that way, and we don't have to pollute our neighborhood with noise. Well, I'm off but I'll see you around the neighborhood.”

As the door closed behind them, Dean looked at Cas. “We are solving this case quickly. “I'm not going to buy an automover. HOA! What does that even stand for? Homeowners outright anal? Two inches!”

“I don't think you have to be a homeowner to enjoy anal, Dean.”

Dean blinked. “What? That's not what I –

Cas titled his head in confusion.

Dean shook his head. “Let's go over and see what we can find out about miss Lee and her late fiancee.”

As they closed the door behind them and walked on the small walkway to the neighboring house, Cas' hand snaked into Dean's.

Dean stopped and looked at Cas in horror, sure that it had been a mistake. He didn't want to be caught showcasing one inch of his true feelings towards the angel. But Cas laced his fingers tightly with Dean's and gave him a short smile. His voice was low and he spoke carefully. “I hope this is good?” After a brief pause, he added. “For the case.”

Dean could only nod. “Yeah, for the case.”

When they arrived at the door, Dean couldn't bear to let go of Cas' hand to knock. Sure, he might have drenched Cas' hand in sweat but it felt wrong to let go. It was nice to have Cas' hand in his, to feel that strong hand against his own skin. Dean pictured Cas relaxing even more, his thumb casually stroking Dean's skin.

He knocked harshly on the door with his other hand, banishing all fantasies.

A buxom woman opened. Her hair had light brown curls but they seemed matted and it looked like she had slept in her pants and hoodie. They were wrinkly and when she smiled, it seemed hoarse. She was guarded as she spoke. “Yes?”

“Hi, Ms. Lee. Sorry to bother you. We just wanted to say hi. We're your new neighbors, moved in today actually. I'm Dean and this is Castiel.”

Cas nodded. “I'm Dean's husband.”

Dean tried not to shake his head.

“Oh, I'm Laura. I wasn't aware that – “ She stopped and chewed her lips. “I'm sorry, come in. Me and my – .“ She paused, and her face twisted.

As Dean closed the door, Laura started sobbing. “I'm so sorry. I don't wanna burden you, it's just... I'm having it really rough right now. I just lost my fiance. I don't know why I'm telling you this, you're strangers.” She wiped at her eyes. “I'm sure you don't wanna – “

Cas put a comforting arm around her. “Sometimes an unburdened heart helps, even if it's to strangers.”

They sat down in Laura's living room; an open space with a huge couch, dark wooden floors and windows with curtains that were closed.

“It's messy. I sleep down here since... I can't step foot in the bedroom. I'm heading out of town this evening. Going to be with my sister for a while. The police have my number. I'm sure they'll have more questions.” Her eyes flitted to a wall with a picture of her and her fiancee. “It's hard being here. Everything reminds me of William.”

Dean nodded in sympathy. “Do you have any idea of who could've wanted to harm William?”

Laura shook her head. “No. We moved here a year ago. William was the kindest man, always saw the good in people. I think that's one of the reasons I fell for him. We met in college, and sure, he goofed around like any other guy there but there was this genuine, sweet feeling about him you know.” She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “And this is a good neighborhood. With good people...”

Dean reached out and stroked her hand. “I'm very sorry for your loss, Laura.”

Laura looked up and nodded. “I... I need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back.” She moved past him and Cas.

Dean and Cas looked at each other and stood as one. They searched quickly and when they found the bedroom, they silently opened the door.

Everything looked normal which – Dean figured – made it harder for Laura. With a room that was disturbed or contained evidence that something gruesome had happened, the mind at least had something tangible to cling to, even though the heart refused.

Cas headed over to the headboard when something made him stop. “Dean.”

Dean was there and looked down at the floor, where Cas was pointing. “It looks like some marks on the floor, like something wet was trailed along the wood. It seems out of place.”

Cas bent down to the floor and sniffed it.

“Dude, no.”

“I don't smell anything besides human blood. And I can't sense any residue of magic, angelic grace, or anything demonic.”

Dean grimaced. “That's good but next time don't stick your nose in it. You still thinking witch?”

“It's a possibility.”

They searched the room quickly, looking for hidden spaces in the wardrobe or secret hideouts in the walls or bed were a hex bag could've been stashed. They found nothing.

They were back in the living room as Laura come back.

Cas' voice was sympathetic. “We are heading out. It was not our intention to bother you.”

Laura shook her head. “It's alright.”

They parted at the door. As they were heading out, Dean noticed a pamphlet on the dresser. Welcome to Perfection Peak. Where we peak beyond perfection. HOA greetings and guidelines.” He doubted Laura would think her time in the neighborhood was perfect. Dead fiancees hardly screamed peak perfection. What did that even mean?

Dean looked at Cas. “Alright, let's talk case but first we need to go shopping. I'm starving. We need to put food in the fridge, and pour some drinks down our throats.”

Luckily, the local Wilmart was just a fifteen-minute drive away.

Cas took a cart and they strolled in together. Dean worried his underlip. Maybe he should hook his arm in Cas' arm? But that would make it awkward to push the cart and they were supposed to act as husband and husband, not a couple of lovesick teenagers that couldn't get enough of each other and went all touchy-feely in the middle of the supermarket.

Dean had a sudden vision of Cas' ripping his shirt off, buttons flying everywhere in the middle of the fruit aisle and them kissing with all the gusto from a couple in a romance novel.

“Honey. Honey... Honey!”

Dean startled as he realized Cas was calling for him. “Yeah, wings, what's up?”

Cas arched an eyebrow as Dean walked over to him. “Wings? I thought we agreed on angel. Wings sound like you want to eat me.”

Dean swallowed harshly and pushed down the positive answer, that yeah, he wouldn't mind that at all.“I improvised.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry for going blank there, I was just uh, thinking about the case and everything we know so far.”

Cas answered in his gravely voice. “It's OK. Yellow or red bell peppers?”

“It's not Sam you're married to. I don't eat red stuff if it ain't meat... or ketchup.”

“Your doctor said that your cholesterol is high, Dean. I just think some vegetables would go nicely with our tacos. I'll go grab the avocados.”

“Ourdoctor has never said – “ Cas just winked at Dean and headed over to the pre-smashed guacamole section.

Dean grumbled and grabbed some dressing. He was not sure what he'd put it on, but it would come to him eventually.

“We can do some chicken wings and oven-baked potatoes. I already bought potatoes,” Cas announced proudly.

“Good thinking, Cas. I bought dressing. For your uh, bell peppers.”

“Our bell peppers. We can shop for two meals in advance. Roasted chicken in the oven and tacos. Quite fortunate, since it's a Thursday today. We'll do Taco Thursdays. Like everyone else.”

Dean felt a pang of longing in his chest at Cas' words. Sure, he knew what he was. A badass hunter, the gatekeeper against evil, the guy that saved the world. Together with Sam, Cas and Jack of course and he liked doing that. He was good at that. But he was also acutely aware of what was missing in his life.

He glanced at Cas who was perusing the taco aisle, picking up salsa, tortillas, and nachos. He'd have Cas any way he could. If that were just as friends, cause he had no delusions Cas liked him as more, then so be it.

The phone rang just as Cas looked back at Dean. He waved at him to go ahead and took the call.

“Hi, Sam. What you got for us? Any leads?”

“So get this. I talked to Mrs. Karstark. She was understandably upset but agreed to talk. The police report matches up. She found him in the kitchen, body completely drained. Heart and stomach were gone.”

“Right. Same as our first vic. Maybe the monster was in a rush for the second killing and only had time to take the heart.”

“Maybe. And judging by the police report both attacks happened at night. So it probably means that this is a creature that's nocturnal, and sleeps during the day. Or it can be in hiding, either somewhere safe or walking disguised as a human.

“Cas and I talked to Ms. Lee. We did some off-the-record investigating and nada on the hex bags or anything like that. But Cas did find some odd spot on the floor. Almost like something wet had been dragged – “

“ – dragged along the floor.”

“Huh, I hear it's the same as with Mr. Karstark.”

“Yes, but it was more than an odd spot on the floor. I saw blood.”

“Hmm. And it can't be Karstark's and Lee's cause their bodies were drained so we know it came from our mystery monster.”

Cas came up to Dean and stroked his arm before pulling at him gently. A rush swept over Dean with feelings he didn't have time to dissect, especially not at a freaking Wilmart. “I think we're done, honey. I grabbed the last items so we're ready to head to checkout.”

“Thanks... Ca – “ Dean stopped himself when Cas looked at him intently. “Angel.”

Cas seemed pleased as he walked away.

“Honey and angel, eh? Seems you and Cas are doing pretty good on the whole marriage thing.”

“Fake marriage, Sam. This is just a trap for our monster, alright. We need to ace this.”

“Well, no worries there, you're really nailing it, Dean. Oh, I also found an opened letter from the HOA, signed from a Ms. Chiyoh.”

Dean perked up at that. “Really? What it say?”

“It was a notice for them to maintain their lawn properly. Cut the grass and prune the apple trees.”

Dean rubbed his eyes. The HOA really was everywhere. Dean stopped. “Did Mrs. Karstark say anything about a fight or her and her husband not getting along? Him cooking meth on the side and hiding his cancer kind of thing?”

“What, no? No, they had barely been married a month. From what I gathered from her, and the written statements from friends and family that were interviewed, they seemed happy. Extremely so. They'd been together for years before tying the knot and friends said they acted like they'd just met.”

“Alright, let's keep in touch. I need to finish grocery shopping now.”

“How domestic.”

“Shut up, Sammy.”

“I'll text you the address to my hotel. We'll talk later tonight after we hit up the lore books now that we have more to go on.

“Right, lore books...”

“You did not pack any... Fine, see what you can find online then. Bye, Mr. Krushnic.”

“Bitch,” Dean muttered into the phone, but Sam had already hung up.

Dean grabbed a bag of barbecue coals and a six-pack of beer. They were not doing the chicken wings in the freaking oven. No, Mr. and Mr. Krushnic were barbecue-pros and since it looked like they'd be in the house for some time, they were making the most of it.

“The potatoes are in the oven, thyme and salt on them.” Cas handed Dean a beer.

He opened it and sighed in satisfaction as he sat down on the recliner in the backyard. “This is nice, Cas. Sun is out, meat is getting charred, cold beer in hand, you and me just chilling. ”

“I don't think charred meat is that pleasant but I agree with the rest of your sentiment.” Cas took a gulp of his beer and grabbed Dean's hand. “You don't have a ring on.”

“So put a ring on it.” Dean laughed but Cas looked serious.

“It is a custom that husbands have rings. It's an outward sign of claim. Do you want a ring?”

“I'm sure that people will believe we're married.” Dean eyed Cas' blue T-shirt, how it fit snugly, highlighting all the muscles that the usual trench coat outfit hid. He licked his lips. “We're already at the coordinated clothes stage.” Dean pointed at his own blue T-shirt. “See, we're practically married anyway.”

Cas squinted at Dean but didn't say anything.

“I mean in theory. I'm not saying that we – we are married, it's not like we have a marriage license. Not that I wouldn't say no... but for the case...” A marriage license? He needed to shut up, like yesterday. “I'ma go and see if the chicken wings are done. Go set the table.”

“I already did that. And made the bed, and cleaned the bathroom.”

Dean shook his head. “Wow, Cas. You're the Energizer bunny. When did you have time to do all that?”

“When you tried to achieve the 'perfect marinade'. It's good to know that one of us is organized.”

“I'm organized. Who did you think fixed all the dirty laundry Sam created when he was a teenager? Or who had to clean up all his messes when he was in his terrible two's – which went on way beyond him being two I might add? But marinades take time, Cas. It's like the finest spell work, each ingredient necessary for the final product. You can say I'm a marinade magician.” Dean flashed a smile towards Cas.

“Let's not say that,” Cas grumbled. “Do you want us to do some more research before dinner?”

Dean knew that they should; they were not in Okay to have dinner parties and sunbathe but for once, one part of the hunt was to actually do some R&R, and Dean wanted to just savor that moment. Savor time alone with Cas. “Nah, let's just enjoy ourselves for a moment.”

“I can't believe that you actually think Val Kilmer is the superior Batman. Do I even know you, Cas? Have you not seen the recent Batman movies?”

Cas chewed on a potato, shaking his head. “No, it wasn't on your list.” He paused for a moment. “If you want we can watch one of the Batman movies with Christian Bale. To rectify that mistake.”

“Alright.” Dean tried not to get too excited. They were actually doing Netflix and chill in the literal sense, nothing else.“I'd love to.” A buzz in his pocket made him jump up.

He fished up his phone. It was a message from Sam. I think I found it. Look up the Manananggal.

The man and the gal? “Time to hit the computer, Cas.”

“I think this is it, Dean. A cannibalistic vampire that sucks its victims dry.”

Dean took a sip from his beer. “Sure fits the bill. Anything on how it chooses its victims?”

Cas was silent for a moment, reading. “It says here that the manananggal haunts newlyweds and couples in love. I wonder why Sam thought we would be able to bring it out.” He looked at Dean quickly before averting his gaze.

Dean coughed slightly. “Um, the fake marriage thing. If it thinks we're married, it might just go for us.”

“We are in a fake marriage, Dean. You think this will be sufficient?”

“Hope so.”

“I think the best course of action is to 'lay it on real thick' as the kids say. Make the manananggal believe we're married.”

Dean took another swipe of his beer but it did nothing to mitigate the dryness in his throat. He and Cas had been holding hands all freaking day outside. Not that Dean objected but what else could they do? “Provoke it and goad it into attacking us. So we need to exude love and sunshine?”

“I wouldn't put it exactly like that but yes.”

A line further down caught Dean's attention. “Check this out. The word manananggal means “the one who separates itself. Apparently it hunts at night and hides the lower body somewhere since it's vulnerable. It becomes immobile. The upper half of the torso sprouts wings and off it goes hunting for couples. It was left at the altar so that's why it targets grooms.”

“That makes sense with which people were attacked.”

“Oh, and it drags its body along, entrails hanging out and sucks its victims dry with an elongated tongue. You remember those marks we saw on the floor. God, that must have been... fluids left behind from its inside bits saying hello. Gross.”

“Nothing on how to kill it though. Maybe Sam can check his lore books, there might be additional information there. You can pour salt in the corner of your house to shield yourself from it.”

“Mm, but we don't want that, Cas. We want the son-uva-bitch to come to us.”

Cas leaned into Dean, their arms pressing against each other. A flush of warmth passed over Dean. He needed to stop, Cas just wanted a better look. “You see this, Dean?”

Dean read the paragraph. “Great. It's can disguise itself as a human during the day. So we're looking for something that looks like a human.”

“Yes. But we still don't really know how it knows who is in love or newly married.”

Dean shut the laptop down. “No. If it poses as a human, it must be someone who knows everything about the neighborhood. A person that's nosy. An old lady! They're nosy. Always spreading gossip and chit-chatting about Sudoku. We know about any old neighbors around?”

“No, most seem to be fairly young or families with kids.”

“Great.” Let's just try to refocus tomorrow. Now we have a lead at least.”

The hours passed quickly and Cas seemed to enjoy the movie. “Are you still gonna claim Val Kilmer is superior?” Dean spat the toothpaste foam in the sink and continued brushing.

“This Christian Bale had his points. But I do think his voice was rather gravely.”

Dean shook his head and paused his brushing, the toothbrush hanging by the corner of his mouth. “There's no such things as a voice being too gravely, Cas. People dig gravely voices... Your voice is gravely.”

Cas stopped his brushing. “It is. Do you... dig my gravely voice?”

“Uh, I mean, not that I've put much thought too it but. I – You do have a gravely voice, I've noticed that.”

Cas cleaned his toothbrush. The harsh bathroom light did nothing to hide the intensity of the blue in his eyes. He leaned in close to Dean and put the brush back in its place. “Mm.”

“It's nice. Your voice I mean.” Dean tried not to think about how Cas' body pressed against his own and how much he enjoyed the feeling.”

“It is nice. But do you like it?” Cas waited patiently like this was some goddamn quiz that Dean needed to pass.

Dean was under no illusion that he was gonna ace this, he was failing miserably. “I do?”

Cas just hummed and raised his finger to Dean's cheek. Casually he swiped over Dean's skin. “You have something there, honey.”

The touch left a burning trail behind and Dean feared to speak. He was wide-eyed and trying not to moan with the sheer hotness of it all.

“Some toothpaste.”

“Mm, I'm a messy brusher,” Dean whispered.

“I know.” It seemed that Cas wanted to say something more but he turned and left Dean alone with his very confused feelings.

Dean sat down on the toilet, only to stand up again. He splashed his face with some water but it still felt like his face was on fire. He needed to remind himself that this was only fake. Cas did not love him for real, not like that. This was all in the name of catching some two-piece winged vamp monster.

As Dean walked into the bedroom, he saw Cas in bed. Under the freaking covers.

His body went cold. He had not thought about sleeping arrangements at all. “I see you picked a good spot there, Cas.” He laughed hoarsely.

“Yes. Husbands sleep together, you can join me.”

Dean chased away all the images of himself and Cas his mind provided at Cas' statement. “Right. Of course.” He slipped down under the covers and tried not to be acutely aware of the warmth coming off of Cas' body. He was like a furnace or maybe it was Dean's own body that was on fire.

Cas turned off the lights. “Good night, Dean.”

“Good night, Cas.” Dean exhaled slowly and turned to the side. He realized that he was facing Cas' face, mere inches apart from his own. Who the fuck made this bed and how on earth was this considered a proper size for two adults?

Cas looked at him. “I don't require much sleep. I think I'll meditate for a while.”

“Like that? With open eyes?” “I can get up if you want.” Cas paused.

Dean waited for something more but when it didn't come he broke the silence. “No. Stay. I can sleep anyway.” Dean turned the other way and stiffened when he felt Cas' groin pressed against his ass. He didn't know what to do. If he moved, then things would get really awkward. If he didn't move... well, things were already awkward.

Dean decided to go for option number three: breathe slowly and hope sleep would find him quickly.

The light shone through the blinds. Dean stirred slowly, squinting against the sun. As he turned, the fleeting thoughts from a dream came to him. Someone that had intimate knowledge about the area and its people. Someone who greeted him and Cas as soon as they moved in. The HOA woman, Chiyoh Roman!

Dean was about to shake Cas awake to tell him his Eureka moment when he became aware of things that were not his body. During the night, Cas had snuggled in close or maybe it was Dean and now they were clinging to each other like overcooked spaghetti.

Dean realized that his left arm was heavy and numb. It was stuck under the pillow and Cas had put his head over it, effectively strangling all blood-circulation for God knew how many hours. His arm was draped over Dean's waist and their legs were touching each other.

He stayed like that for a while, pretending that this was mutual. Something that they both wanted and not an accident of nightly sleep movements. Cas stirred in his sleep, turning more towards Dean.

A smile bloomed on Dean's face. Cas really was beautiful. He never had time to really look at Cas unapologetically but now he took it. Cas' disheveled hair, the fullness of his lips, how his eyelashes cast tiny shadows underneath his eyes. The smoothness of his skin. Dean wanted to reach out and touch him.

Azure blue eyes looked at him suddenly.

Dean startled and tried to move away but his arm was still stuck under Cas' pillow. He pulled harder and Cas' head flopped up and then down on the pillow again.

Cas flew from the bed but where he was elegant, like a swan or some other bird creature – Dean did know jackshit about birds – he managed to tangle himself into the bed sheets and fell face-first on the carpeted floor.

He groaned and wished that the earth would swallow him.

Cas was by his side and pulled him up to kneeling. “Dean, are you alright?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks to whoever invented polypropylene, right?”

“You do have a thick skull, I think you'd be fine even without the carpet.”

Dean glared at Cas, and suddenly the embarrassment he felt earlier was gone. It quickly came back when he realized he was staring at Cas' groin. He hurriedly got up on his feet.

Cas cleared his throat. “Here.”

Time stopped as if this was a pivotal moment. Dean imagined touching Cas purposefully, taking his hand and holding it to his chest as any husband would do. Husband. If things could be so effortless between them. Not necessarily that Dean wanted to marry Cas but to know that Cas loved him like he loved Cas, that would have been a good thing.

Dean smiled slightly, red coloring his cheeks – he really enjoyed looking at Cas when he slept, although it made him sound like a creep. “I can't,” he chuckled.

“What do you mean?”

“My arm is asleep. I couldn't move it if my life depended on it.”

“Oh,”. Cas looked surprised but sprang into action. “I'll do it.” He spread the cover and went around Dean. Wrapping his arms around Dean's waist, he tied the cover off.

“Thank you,” Dean whispered.

“You're welcome, honey.” Cas' hands lingered on Dean's skin and when they fell away, a stab of disappointment hit Dean.

“Anytime angel.” After a moment of silence, Dean groaned. “Crap, we were supposed to eat tacos yesterday! It was Thursday and all.”

“I don't understand Dean, it was you who insisted we barbecue. And I fail to see how this is so relevant that you jump out of bed.”

“It's not about the tacos, Cas, even though that was a huge mistake. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you when we get back to the Bunker. It's about the house lady!” He pointed towards the window.

Cas looked at Dean and spoke slowly. “We don't have... a cleaning service.”

Dean shook his head, and grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on. “No, no. You remember how we read that the Manananggal could shift? The HOA person! Chiyoh! It's the perfect disguise. If she doesn't suck your energy dry by wanting you to mow the freaking lawn four times a week and grow yellow tulips, then she sucks you dry literally because she's jealous of your awesome love life.”

“That sounds plausible, but we don't exactly have a love life, Dean.”

We could fix that, Dean wanted to say. But he was not that big of an idiot. “We do as we've done in this marriage until now, Cas.” Dean grinned. “We fake it.”

Cas was more efficient than Dean and had already put on causal clothes while Dean was still fiddling with his T-shirt. “I mean, think about it. It all makes sense. She greets all the new-comers, probably does a whole fucking interview while spilling all HOA-rules and there she has time to do her manananggal magic and sniff out the ones that are high on the love-juice.”

“That may be, but how do you propose we get close to her?”

“Oh, I have a plan.” Dean walked over to the wardrobe and dove in. After a few seconds, he pulled out a pair of binoculars. “Ha, look at these babies, Cas. Premium quality, for Wilmart anyway, and most importantly, they have night vision!”

During breakfast, they called Sam.

”Hey, Mr. Krushnic and Mr. Krushnic. How is life?”

Dean swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs and drank a sip of juice, letting the silence drag on.

“Dean?”

Cas raised an eyebrow but Dean shook his head.”

“Dean, can you hear me?”

“Nope, Mr. Krushnic is deaf to bullshit.”

Sam sighed on the other end of the line. “Alright, sorry. Now tell me why you called.”

“Chiyoh, the HOA-lady. Her name come up during the investigation?”

“No, I mean, yeah, since they found a card with her name on it. They talked to her briefly but let her go. There was no physical evidence whatsoever to tie her to the crime scene – the card could've been from an earlier time. And no motive according to the detectives. You thinking she's the manananggal?”

“Yep. I think we should pay her a nightly visit and check if she has a penchant for blood-sucking.”

“Alright, so what's the plan?”

After relaying the plan to Sam, Dean and Cas agreed to meet later in the evening.

“You think the bait will work?” Cas sounded skeptical.

Dean nodded. “Of course, angel. We fake it until we make it.” He smiled but the words tasted bitter on his tongue. He got up.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere, just need to clean my gun. You can never be too prepared.” Grabbing his plate with some leftover eggs, Dean moved to go to the kitchen.

Cas intercepted him, a hand on his arm holding him back. His blue eyes shone with concern. “Dean, are you alright? You haven't even touched your coffee.”

Dean glanced at the full mug and cleared his throat. “Mm, I'm fine, Cas.” The truth was that he wasn't fine. He was glad they were close to catching the monster, but a substantial part of him dreaded them leaving the house. Sure, Cas was not really his husband, but the stolen glances, and hand-holding – how they had slept close together at night – he was going to miss that.

Cas smiled weakly. “A marriage requires honesty.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Funny, Cas. Fine... I'm just gonna – miss this.”

“Sleep-ins, a hearty breakfast and monster hunting. We do that all the time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

As the day progressed, Dean got antsier. It was an odd combination of preparing for the night's hunt and losing something that he'd finally gotten a taste of, something that he wanted more of. He wanted not just more, he wanted all of it. If his want was a spine, he was ready to crack it open and suck that marrow out.

They were almost home from an evening walk Cas insisted that they take. Dean had complained but it felt nice and it was yet another excuse to hold Cas' hand. He ignored the voice that added 'one last time' to his every thought.

“Tacos tonight?”

“Sure, Cas.”

“Alright, honey.” Cas smiled proudly and waited. When Dean didn't say anything, Cas poked him in the chest.

“Fine. Alright, angel. Tacos sounds good.”

Cas squeezed Dean's hand. “Can't wait for those bell peppers to be eaten. I've prepared them. I read somewhere that cooking food can be a good way to bring couples together.”

“So can fucking.” What was wrong with him? Did just a few days with Cas playing at being his husband rob him of all common sense?

Cas was silent for a beat, then a small smile played on his place. “So can fucking. I'll start with the tacos.” He turned, hesitated for a brief second and then leaned in close to Dean, giving him a soft peck on the cheek.

Dean was almost starting to think that Cas flirted with him... but on the other hand, he was probably just really into capturing the blood-sucking creep.

The tacos were good, even with the bell peppers, Dean had to give Cas that.

“So I trust I'll see bell peppers on the table from now on when we have taco night?”

Dean wiped his mouth and opened another beer. “Sure, Sam will be ecstatic. What time is it?”

“Soon eight.”

“Since we're not getting any shut-eye tonight, let's watch a movie or... do you have something else in mind?”

Cas seemed thoughtful for a second. “I've been thinking. We should maybe do something that really brings couples together. Just to solidify this... husband bond so that the Manananggal really picks our house tonight.”

Dean's mind flashed to them in bed, legs tangled together, Cas' arm draped over him. “Uh, sure.”

Cas walked over to a cupboard and picked up a Wilmert-bag. He opened it and brought out a square-shaped box.

Looking at the box, Dean huffed out a small laugh. “You want us to play Scrabble?”

“It's a fine game, Dean. Competitive, hones your word-skills and we get the satisfaction of doing something together.”

Dean grabbed a rag and wiped down the kitchen table. “When we agreed to do this whole fake-marriage thing I should have specified what stage of marriage. I had in mind more newlyweds and less old retired couple-vibe. But hey, we are doing something together so that's always something.”

After too many games to count, Dean finally glanced at the clock. “It's way past midnight. Let's go.”

They both left the game standing and walked upstairs to the bedroom.

Cas picked up his phone, his fingers flashing as he typed a message. “There, message to Sam is sent.”

Dean checked his gun and grabbed the tiny bag he'd prepared earlier. “Man, all the sneaking will be ruined by this stupid bag. She will smell us a mile away.”

“It's one of the few things that can hurt it according to lore and if your plan works, she won't be near us anyway.”

“I know but still. It's a ton of garlic.” Dean grabbed the spare covers, pillows, and blankets they had and bulked up their bed. Then he pulled the covers over it. Finally, he put a detached mop head on the pillow.

“What's that supposed to be?”

Dean smacked his tongue. “Hair, Cas. And in the dark, she won't see that it's grayish.”

Cas walked around the bed, surveying Dean's work. “What about my hair?”

“You don't need hair. Your head is under the covers.”

“Really? That's a strange sleeping position.”

“Yeah, you always had weird sleeping habits. Thankfully, Mr. Krushnic loves you anyway.” Dean froze and glanced at Cas.

Cas walked up to Dean slowly. “He does?”

“Yeah...” Dean's voice was hoarse.

“That's good to know.” Cas looked intently at Dean, as if he waited for something more to be spoken. Finally, he spoke, his voice cautious. “Any specific reasons why?”

If silence could thunder, Dean's mind would be a freaking storm. After what seemed to be way too long, Dean found his ability to speak again. “Uh... I mean you're an awesome person, Cas. Strong, loyal – I don't know how many times you've stood by me, even when you shouldn't. You're smart as hell, smarter than Sam and that says a lot – that guy was basically born with a book in his hands. You're... I mean Dean Krushnic would say that you're easy on the eye. From a purely neutral standpoint.”

Cas smiled faintly but there was an odd fire there. “I see.” He reached up and touched Dean's cheek.

Dean was sure he would spontaneously combust, right on the spot. “Yeah,” he managed to rasp out.

“Dean Krushnic seems like a catch. I'm curious about another man though.”

A faint but sudden burst of jealousy coursed through Dean. He tried to relax his face, as not to frown. “Who?”

“What does Dean Winchester think about me? Does his sentiment echo Dean Krushnic's?” Cas dropped his hand but his gaze commanded attention. “Do you... love me, Dean?”

Dean had no idea how this had happened. He tried to recall how they ended up with Cas asking Dean, not the fake Dean, but the real bacon-loving, beer-drinking, song-singing Dean– and came up blank. But he knew by all that he held holy that he did love Cas.

“I – “

Suddenly Cas moved away from Dean and ran to the window.

Dean was confused for a brief moment before realizing what was happening. He grabbed his night-vision binoculars and ran to the opposite side of the window. “Where?”

Cas pointed to a window on the first floor, in the house across the street. “There, by the kitchen.”

A small movement flashed in the room before it was gone. It didn't have to mean anything; a lot of people were up after midnight but Dean was sure that Chiyoh was not like other people. He was sure she was not people at all.

Dean squeezed his googles and let his gaze go to the left. There, behind another car, he saw the Impala. Sam would go in as soon as she left the house. Two huge trees grew nearby and together with the darkness of the night that would provide enough cover.

Cas opened the window slowly. The cool night-air drifted inside. It smelled faintly of the neighbor's roses and with it came the sound of insects and night birds. It was not the normal cacophony of sound though but more subdued as if even nature itself held its breath.

The front door to Chiyoh's house opened and she flew outside. The lower half of her body was gone and dark, leathery wings had sprouted from her back, She flapped them and hovered for a few seconds on the porch, before flying across the street.

Dean shook his head. “Look at her, so confident. She isn't even in a hurry. Didn't lock the door. Well, your day nap will be longer than usual.”

Cas was silent.

“It'll be longer cause she'll... she'll be dead, Cas.”

“I figured that, Dean. If it was a joke, the very act of explaining it defeats its purpose.”

Dean grumbled. “Maybe you should've laughed then. Whatever. Sam would've found it funny.”

They could hear a tiny rattle coming from downstairs and soon the tell-tale sound of a door slowly being opened came to them. It was showtime.

They jumped out of the window and landed with a soft thud on the grass.

Sam was already skulking around the trees, seeking the darkest shadows.

Dean and Cas sprinted across the street and sneaked inside.

“Alright, let's stick to the plan. Me and Cas will take the downstairs, Sam, you take the upstairs. “Time to find some legs.”

“You got some garlic and salt,” Sam wondered.

“Yep, we're good to go. Let's hurry. I don't think the makeshift pillow bodies will work for long.”

Sam arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He quickly ascended the stairs.

Dean was not sure if the salt would work on the Manananggal's own home but he quickly sprinkled salt on all the window sills and the front and back door, just in case. “Gotta tell you, she sure lives dangerously. Why would she go hunting just a few hours before sunrise?”

“Maybe it's complacency. Encounters with hunters being rare? I'll start in the back. There are only so many places were you can hide legs.”

Dean made a face. “Tell me about it.” He opened the restroom and pulled back the shower curtains but found it empty. Next, he rummaged through some closets in the hallway but found nothing. He could feel the seconds ticking away. Any moment now she'd be flying back in a flurry of rage.

“Kitchen is clean,” Cas shouted.

“Son of a bitch, where are you? Sam, anything?!” Dean cried.

Cas was checking the living room and Dean wanted to laugh. It was not like the legs were just chilling on the couch.

Sam came running down the stairs. “Nothing, I didn't find anything.”

“Well, search again!”

The door busted open, pieces of wood flying everywhere and there Chiyoh was. Her wings flapped furiously, but oddly enough it sounded like it came from far away. Blood dripped from her hanging entrails. She tried to cross the threshold and Dean held his breath.

When she shrieked in frustration, Dean exhaled. The salt line held for now but he couldn't count on his luck to last. Experience had taught him it could always get worse.

Chiyoh glared at him and beat her wings, disappearing from sight.

Dean realized she was in the back yard when she beat on the door, her claws scraping against glass.

The legs had to be in the house! Dean went back to the kitchen, his gaze sweeping over the floor and desk spaces, but nothing. Then he saw it. A thin, rectangular outline right on the wall behind the door to a storage room.

He shut the door to the storage room and opened the thin door. Bingo.

The bottom half of Chiyoh sat there, bloody and gory. “Found her!” Dean shouted. Fucking gross, this was worse than witches and the bloody rags of skin the shapeshifters left behind. Dean pulled up his bag, hesitating.

Sam was behind him. “Dean, what are you waiting for? Do it!”

Dean dropped a piece of garlic on the legs but Sam objected.

“You have to smoother the legs, rub it in! Hurry!”

Dean grimaced but grabbed a fistful of garlic and rubbed it all over the legs. He carefully avoided the bloody top parts. When he was done, he sprinkled it with salt for good measure.

Outside the house, an unholy sound escaped the manananggal's throat.

Dean and Sam ran out of the kitchen and into the living room just in time to see the first sunlight touch the world.

Chiyoh turned, her huge, leathery wings beating as she tried to escape but as the sun washed over her, they stopped beating. She screamed and hissed. “No!” It was a last protest, shouted in disbelief – garbled and wrong – nothing a human voice could produce.

She fell down with a thud, unmoving.

“It – I think it worked. She's dead.” Sam exhaled in relief.

“Let's just wait a few more minutes. I want her dead dead.”

Cas came to him. “I think Sam is right, she's dead, Dean. And we need to go. Neighbors are waking up and they'll have questions soon. Questions we can't answer.”

“Alright. Me and Cas gonna' head back to the house and grab our stuff. Sam, you wait in the car. Don't you dare sit in the driver seat.”

They were driving out of Okay seven minutes later, Dean's foot heavy on the gas pedal.

They talked about the hunt, Sam's sleuthing, what they had done during their hours separated. Dean didn't tell Sam anything about the more domestic things he and Cas had done while doing the whole fake marriage but Sam made small jokes here and there. Dean let him have it.

One hour into the drive home, Sam was knocked out. Dean had counted on it. Sure, they were used to little to no sleep but when they were safe and opportunity arose, Sam always took a chance to nap.

Silence reigned for a few minutes until Dean thought it was unbearable. Yet he remained silent.

The thought of knowing was worse. No, that was a lie. He wanted to know but he wanted it to be the right answer, the good kind of answer.

The answer he hoped for.

Dean gritted his teeth. Better live in uncertainty than know the truth and be forever disappointed and heartbroken.

Cas cleared his throat. “You never answered my question.”

Dean's mouth turned drier than the Sahara desert. “There's been a lot of questions during these couple of days, Cas. Yes, I like cheese. Nope, I don't take too long showers. And I guess, fine, bell peppers are OK on tacos.”

Cas' gaze hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes were serious – it was the look of an angel that had been the leader of a garrison, commanding, and present – but Dean also detected a hint of sadness there.

His heart plummeted down into his stomach.

“That wasn't the question I was referring to. I was talking about – “

“I know which question you're talking about Cas...” Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter. Just fucking say it. It's just three goddamn letters. Just say it. Y-E-S. Yankee, echo, sierra. Yes, yes. Yes!

It came out much more quiet from Dean's lips than the bombastic declaration it had been in his mind. “Yes.”

Cas stilled.

Dean could feel it. Like a shift in the air, an aura of something that pushed against him, a heaviness that wrapped around him. Maybe he was having a heart attack.

“D-dean?” Cas sounded uncertain and hopeful.

It wrecked Dean. Not the hopefulness, never that but that Cas felt uncertain and hesitant. And that he was the cause of it. He never wanted Cas to doubt his feelings for him again.

Dean cleared his throat again, his eyes flitting to Cas for a second before he decided that his best option was to have them steady on the road. “Look, Cas... shit's complicated, our lives are complicated. Monster hunts and apocalypses every other week. And if it ain't that, then it's freaking God going all SuperSaiyan on us. Billie is hiding Jack somewhere so he can achieve his Jedi-status and everything just keeps piling up on us.”

Dean licked his lips and dared to look at Cas.

He was looking at Dean intently, waiting for him to be finished.

“And you were gone, after Mary and Jack.. I was a fucking douche for saying those things but I said them. And you came back. You always come back. And now this case, and the whole fake marriage thing, I just – Look I don't wanna marry you, Cas.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “You're... confusing.”

Dean shook his head. “You still have that mixtape, Cas?”

“Of course. I... listen to it regularly. It means a lot to me.”

“I'm not good with words, always been a doer but even that doesn't seem to mean much when all that I try to do turns to dust. But this case, you and me 'playing house' as Sam called it... I saw a glimpse of what I could have. With you. And I'm tired, Cas. So fucking tired. So yeah.” He paused. “I love you. Have for a long time.”

He felt Cas' eyes on him like a fire, burning heat enveloping him. He was afraid to turn and look at Cas, afraid that he'd misread the whole situation, that everything had just been an act to catch Chiyoh. He was so fucking tired of being afraid but here he was nonetheless, fucking drowning in the emotion.

Dean grabbed the steering wheel tighter, bracing for rejection.

“Dean.”

A gentle touch on his arm brought him back from his dark musings. “Dean?”

Finally, Dean dared to look at Cas.

Cas was glowing. It had nothing to do with his grace or with him being an angel. The sun played no part in it, even though the rays that danced across his face as they continued their drove home painted a gorgeous picture.

No, Cas' eyes shone. The soft lines around the corner of his eyes deepened as a breathtaking smile overtook him. “I love you too, Dean.”

“You do...?” Dean had a hard time processing what had just happened, so he nodded sheepishly and looked back at the road. “That's... wow... You love me.” Dean blinked but nonetheless tears formed, threatening to spill over. “You love me.”

“Are you alright, Dean? Baby is all over the place.”

Dean blinked again; a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. “Baby is exactly where I want her to be.” He looked at Cas again. He looked the same but something was different. He seemed at peace. What a cliche sentiment that was but it didn't make it any less true.

Holy shit. Cas loved him back. Was it possible to pass out and be conscious at the same time?

“Dean?”

Dean grabbed Cas' hand, his heart hammering in his chest the whole time. He imagined Cas' flinching, yanking his hand away, laughing and declaring it all to be some huge, awful, joke.

Normally, Dean was totally against driving Baby with only one hand. She was a beauty and deserved a two-hand grip on the steering wheel but these were hardly normal times.

“I'm good, Cas. I'm good.”

Cas' voice was deep, dark, and content. “Good. That's all I ever wanted for you. To be good. Happy.” He squeezed Dean's hand once.

Dean exhaled and couldn't stop his smile from breaking out. “I'm happy, Cas. No question about it.”

“When are we gonna tell Sam and Jack?”

Dean barely heard the question, still marveling at the sensation of Cas' heavy hand in his. “Um, soon. In the Bunker. You and me are gonna have some alone time first.” His cheeks turned red. Christ, he was giddy as a teenager again.

The landscape flew past them – occasional trees, neighborhoods, other cars. Even a Prius. It was all very mundane, just another drive home from a successful hunt. It was all the same, yet suddenly it struck Dean, the beauty of it all. Chuck was a fucking douche that needed to be stopped, monsters lurked and there was evil in the world.

But the world had two badass hunters, one kickass, angel and one juiced-up Nephilim kid. The world would be fine

Everything would be fine.

“Alone time?”

“Yeah, alone time. Just you and me, no prying eyes. You know how many times I've dreamt of kissing you? A kazillion times, Cas.”

Cas nodded, that content glow still present. “A kazillion is a significantly high number.”

“Yeah.”

“To the Bunker, then.”

Dean shook his head in amazement. “To the Bunker, Cas.” https://archiveofourown.org/works/24487438

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh Ep 28: Valon Joins the Dead People Gang

So lately it’s been really freakin hot.

Like crazy freakin hot. I haven’t done anything productive because youknow--I live in a Covid hotspot and I’ve been quarantined for what feels like is 6 years, and then to continue the 10 plagues across America, now it’s just really freakin hot.

I was trying to go the hell to sleep when I heard this WIND outside my window at 2 AM. Just...WIND. It was like 5000 degrees outside, and then it started thundering, and then the lightning started hitting and I was like...wtf 2020, please calm down!

So I decided to check Twitter at 3 AM really fast just to make sure this wasn’t a freakin dream. Aaaaaaand Northern California had a Fire tornado warning.

3 words I never thought I’d see in conjunction. Fire tornado Warning.

and it hella dropped in Tahoe, y’all, it was freakin nuts. Meanwhile, Death Valley--the place where Yugi hella biffed it and died, if you don’t remember--hit 130 F (54.4 C, for the metric lovers in the back) so...it’s been a time for every part of California, and now we have some good ol fashioned rolling blackouts accompanied by 27 wildfires (yes, 27 fires) who have turned the sky into a yellow pea soup.

So because of the rolling blackouts (one of our power transformers exploded because of either the lightning or overuse, I dunno) at any point...my power might go out. Because of this, I didn’t feel like booting up Photoshop and so instead I’ll just...work on this.

...something about the Fire Tornado, the yellow shadow realm outside my window, and crazy lightning over San Fransisco reminded me that it’s been a HOT MINUTE since I’ve posted so lets get back to Yugioh. Somehow they knew that the doorway to hell was my back yard and you know what? They’re right. Completely believable and I wish someone would close the damn door.

Tristan read my mind that it’s been such a hot minute since I’ve checked in, that he mansplained a very quick summary of what the hell is currently happening to Tea Gardner.

A brave man, Tristan Taylor. A brave man to risk getting into a fight with Tea, who is the only Goliath on this show that exists without also being a paper card.

Which is when Pharaoh had some news.

I guess without Duke around, Pharaoh had to be the new Killjoy

(read more under the cut)

I exaggerate a little for the caps, but it’s kind of interesting that when Joey is usually on his own, it’s Yugi who’s certain that Joey is about to die and Pharaoh is the one that has to calm little Yugi down. But, when Yugi’s not there, I guess Pharaoh is just already in a Mood.

Mai is really weird this episode! I wish this season had gone into more detail about the extent of the Orichalcos’s mind control. Because Mai could very well be under it’s spell...or not...maybe it has no spell and they’re just falling for it like a placebo?

It’s not like the Orichalcos was ever put on anyone who was “good.” like if it were possessing someone nice like...

....

....(let me think about this, I’ll think of someone on this show who is a true lawful good.)

....

.................Dark Magician Girl, then I’d actually know if this Orichalcos actually IS different from how these characters actually are. But Mai was introduced in this series as a villain, and she’s always been around to bust balls, so it’s like...what part is Mai and what part is not?

Apparently a part that only shows up when Valon dies.

PS Valon turns a very quick 180 right before he died. I honestly thought I had skipped an episode or something because bro mentioned something about...Valon burning down a church or something...but I think that was a spicy headcanon where he mixed up this show with another anime.

I think. If I skipped an episode, y’all would tell me, right? I didn’t skip an episode?

I did skip the card games, however, so something about getting punched like 1000 times in the dick by Joey Wheeler taught Valon how to be human again, and the death that followed the 1000 dick punches inspired Mai to remember that Valon exists and that she Loves Him.

(just flat on his face)

I just...

I am going to give Yugioh this one. They have had so little in terms of relationships--I will give this to them. Good Job Yugioh, you did it. You had a relationship on your show. Sure, it was one where she...never seemed to like the guy at all, but hey--they actually did embrace...a corpse. Good on you, Yugioh.

Again, I have a really difficult time not cracking up about this very tragic moment a little bit because (and I have said this before about relationships on Yugioh), but I have never seen a TV show treat a straight relationship this way. I have never seen Straight Baiting before in my life and it is...WILD.

Also because Valon and Mai have both murdered I want to say hundreds of people at this point, it’s hard to feel too bad about them, although they are drawn as a very cute couple in how their outfits match. They got the finger less gloves, the belts hanging off their collar, the sleeveless outfit that is both too much clothes and too little clothes at the same time.

And like...I really like the idea behind Valon/Mai. I still think that was a good idea to build off of, I just wish that there was more of a sign from Mai that she had any idea that Valon existed prior to this. Because Valon had Orichalcos too, but he was fully able to love her--so what was happening on her end that prevented this? Was it just the amount that she hated Joey was so much more than her love for Valon? Was Valon actually more jealous of her hate of Wheeler and misinterpreted it as love?

Anyway it’s a billion degrees and I don’t have air conditioning so...I think we’ll have more time to think about this next episode. Maybe it’ll occur to me two weeks after this heat wave ends exactly what I am trying to grasp at when it comes to these two, but for now all I can say is...well it was nice.

Ah RIP Valon/tine (or at least I assume that’s the ship name). You lasted almost a whole season. You almost became a thing. I guess well find out if there’s redemption after he eventually gets resurrected.

And on this show we redeem resurrected people kind of a lot, so that seems reasonable. Sure it was a couple hundred people that he murdered but like...we redeemed Marik.

And then she goes back to wigging out like immediately. The flipping and the flopping of Mai Valentine in this episode is a lot.

And immediately after he says something along the lines of this, he follows with...doing this:

Joey! Valon just died so you wouldn’t have to duel Mai Valentine! He’s dead, Joey! Maybe try talking???

The thing about this show is that cards can both heal you and also destroy you, and the line between the two is just...rolling a dice and hoping you come out healed. Yugi played cards against Yami so that Yami could free himself from his guilt and move on--Valon was healed of Orichalcos control because Joey beat him at cards--Seto was “cured” of his more evil side because Yami mind wiped him in a card game--card magic is weird.

At the same time, Cards can take your soul in just So Many Ways--kind of one of the downsides. But, in a very round about way, maybe cards are kind of like therapy in this world. Maybe they don’t have therapy, and all these kids playing card games with eachother is metaphorical to how they all need eachother in order to push eachother to actually go through the steps of-

Ah, who am I kidding? They just really needed to have Mai lose at cards so they could write her off the show.

I do appreciate that the show never tells you that someone’s actions in the past mean they must rot for eternity. This show will never cancel anyone and say “burn that bridge, let’s go” but I feel like murder is...the line where you can just walk away?

But youknow if that were true of Joey wheeler he’d have no friends left.

During this time, The Yugioh crew was inexplicably lost while, for once in his entire life, Seto was going the correct direction.

Unfortunately, the lure to throw cards at thing was too much for him to go the right direction for very long. It is kind of funny to note that he is the smartest boy in Domino--so he knows you can drive through a hologram--but he just didn’t want to know if they were real or not, so he...didn’t.

Like I think that says a lot about Seto, and I’m sure the show-runners didn’t think about this at all, but he could have tested his theory right now. He could have just seen if these were real in order to know if he was crazy or not...but he’d rather be insane, than be involved with magic.

Anyways, Mai drops that Orichalcos.

Reminder that San Francisco is only 7-12 miles from one end to the other depending on what part of the peninsula you’re on.

But then again, they’re reading a map in Roman characters and these kids are school dropouts who only speak Japanese and maybe Spanish. Maybe they’re actually doing really, really well considering the language barrier?

Anyway that’s all for now I’m gonna go pass out and hopefully when I wake up it’ll be next week when it is no longer hot. If you just got here, this is a link to read these caps from the beginning!

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Forty-Three

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warnings for suggested abortions

Sitting still and being patient was driving Lev nuts, but he watched Cameron anxiously. He’d been told he was well enough today to see Eden, and while he waited for Nate to bring Eden over, he fidgeted anxiously. Nik hadn’t gotten out of bed either, and was curled into Lev. Lev petted his hair lightly, just to have something to do.

Shrieks of laughter announced Eden’s presence long before Nate appeared in the doorway. When she saw Lev, she kicked excitedly, babbling out a quick, “DaDaDaDa.”

Unexpectedly Lev’s eyes welled up. “She- she’s saying my name,” he said, sitting up enough he dislodged Nik.

Nik whined at him. Lev patted his hair, but reached out for Eden.

The moment Eden was in Lev’s lap, she smacked his face. Lev caught her hands even as she babbled angrily at him.

“I’m sorry bitty girl,” Lev said gently. In retaliation, she headbutted him. “Eden!” Lev scolded, touching his nose. At that her eyes filled with black tears, and she started crying. Lev switched gears immediately, tucking her close.

“You know she’s manipulating you, yes?” Cameron asked dryly.

“After being gone for four months, I think she’s entitled,” Lev mumbled, pressing a kiss to Eden’s hair. “I’m right here, baby. Did you miss me?”

Her little nails dug into his skin, but Lev just hummed. “Did Cameron send your clothes?” Lev asked, pointedly not looking in Cameron’s direction. “Someone needs to get some color for your wardrobe.”

“Like yours is any better,” Cameron replied.

Lev looked down at his black hoodie and grey tee shirt. “Fair,” Lev admitted. “But I was making attempts. My sweaters are colorful. Nik picked them out.”

“Exactly. Nik did.”

“I picked out the bear pyjamas. Which I still can't find, by the way.” Lev’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

“And you’ll never find them,” Cameron said without mercy. When Lev stuck his tongue out at him, all Cameron said was, “Careful.”

Lev hummed once more, and returned his attention to Eden.

---

Ash showed up a few hours later with the intentions of checking both Nik and Lev over, especially after he had allowed Nate to bring Eden for Lev to see. He had waited for Nate to bring the little hellion back before heading that way.

Unsurprisingly he found them in Lev’s bed. Ash leaned against the bedroom doorway, watching how Nik was curled into Lev as close as he could possibly get. He wasn’t going to keep that up for long if he was planning on keeping the fetus. Or if he wasn’t planning on telling either Cameron or Lev, even if he did suspect Cameron had his suspicions.

He debated on waiting to see if Lev would wake for their appointment but decided to go talk to Cameron in the kitchen instead. As much as Cameron irritated him, he couldn’t help but appreciate just how nice Cameron’s kitchen was. The sleek black marble and appliances to match contrasted deeply against Cameron’s moonwhite skin and even paler hair.

Cameron seemed to be skillfully chopping up vegetables at the kitchen island in pure silence and did not even look up when he gave a firm, “Sit.”

Ash fought the urge to turn around and leave right then, instead he sat across from the ass and swiped an apple for his troubles. He bit down into it and looked at him. “So.”

Cameron sliced into the broccoli deliberately before looking up at him. “What.”

Ash hummed for a long moment, mostly just to waste Cameron’s time. “We, uh, gonna keep trading one word sentences? Or?”

Cameron held direct eye contact while he resumed his slicing. “Well?”

“How was Lev with Eden, today?” he asked, knowing Cameron was going to keep being a petty petulant dick until Ash got to his point.

Cameron went back to chopping up his vegetables. “He stayed in bed for the whole duration. When he started to get exhausted I had Nate take Eden and leave. He’s been sleeping since they left. As has Nik.”

Ash thrummed his fingers along the black marble. “And how has Nik been?”

Cameron put down the knife and leaned forward on his delicate hands. “Why don’t we skip the part where we pretend you don't know I already know,” he suggested flatly. “Stop wasting my time.”

Ash took another bite from his apple. “What was it that tipped it off? The drinking comment or the Nik being overly emotional?”

Cameron lifted a slight brow. “Nik is always being overly emotional,” he replied, “and you’ve never tried cutting back his drinking until now. So I wouldn’t say you were being all that subtle.”

“Subtlety is not my forté,” Ash said. “And I wasn’t sure if you maintained the brain cells to catch my drift.”

“No worries,” Cameron said, going back to resuming his work, “I know you aren’t capable of commonsense thinking. Of course you wouldn’t realize that I am more intelligent than you.” he flicked Ash a look. “In more ways than one.”

Ash bit his tongue to stop from raising to that bait. “Do you know who the father is?” he asked.

Cameron hesitated so slightly Ash almost did not catch it. “I am.”

“That’s not-”

Cameron gave him a dark look. “I said I am.”

The clipped tone had Ash raising his hands in defense. “Fine. Does Nik know you know?”

Cameron picked back up with a silky smoothness that had a chill running down Ash’s spine. “No. He does not want me knowing, so I’m going to play ignorance and pretend that it’s not painfully obvious.”

“That’s rather kind of you,” Ash observed.

“No,” Cameron said. “It’s a waste of my time to make him upset by confronting him about it when I can just wait until he wants to tell me. He only has a finite amount of time to tell me before he either starts showing or decides to terminate it.”

Ash could tell he was telling the truth, for the most part. Even if there was just the slightest flutter that suggested otherwise. Cameron was most likely as well adept at lying as Bay or Nik. Possibly quite more if he lived and breathed court life for five hundred years.

It was then that Lev shuffled into the kitchen with his IV stand in tow. He still looked a bit groggy, but he was awake. Cameron peered narrowly at Lev, but it was Ash that said, “Did you come here without an escort?”

Lev blinked owlishly at them both. “One of the sentries followed me.” he said, moving to sit in one of the chairs.

“I should have made it clear,” Ash said. “When I said I wanted you walking with someone, I meant either Cameron or myself or Amara or someone that isn’t hired help like the sentries.”

Cameron pointed at Lev with his knife. “Never do that again, understood?”

“Okay,” Lev said. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to wake up Nik.”

“How much has Nik been sleeping?” Ash asked, either of them.

“He sleeps whenever Lev sleeps,” Cameron said.

He looked to Lev for confirmation. “What do you say?”

Lev looked a little guilty. “I’ve been sleeping a lot,” he admitted. “I don’t have much else to do.”

It was Cameron that said, “If you’d prefer, I could have you do tasks for me here in the kitchen. Keep you alert. Nothing too difficult.”

Like Cameron was going to let Lev do anything of substance in his kitchen.

“I’d like that,” Lev said, quietly.

It was then that Nik decided to drag his carcass out of the bedroom and come plop down next to Lev. His hair was a mess and he was wearing sweats and a loose black shirt. He snaked his hand into Lev’s and pressed his forehead against Lev’s shoulder. “You left,” he mumbled, still half asleep.

Lev kissed his temple. “You were sleeping.”

“So?” Nik said, petulantly. “You were too.”

“And then I wasn’t.”

Nik groaned and lightly bit Lev’s shoulder before moving back to the counter. He palmed his eyes and looked tiredly at Ash. “I’m guessing you’re here to mother us?”

“Something like that,” Ash said.

Lev gently smacked Nik’s shoulder. “Nik.”

Nik jutted out his bottom lip at Lev. “What?” he mumbled. “He’s always doing that. I’m allowed to call him out on being overbearing for the last nineteen years of my life.”

“He worries about you,” Lev said. “And so do I.”

Nik muttered under his breath and went back to pressing his forehead against Lev’s shoulder. Lev looked back to Ash. “Other than the sleeping, I think I’ve been doing better. I haven’t thrown up in almost a day now.”

Now that was interesting.

“Well I’m glad,” Ash said, finally. “Let’s keep it that way.”

---

Ash waited until it was just him and Lev in the bedroom before deciding to question him further, and to scold him as well. He had helped Lev into bed and had forced Nik out of the room, and had Cameron keep him busy so Ash could work with Lev in peace.

“Cameron said you stayed in bed when seeing Eden?” Ash said, more in asking for confirmation while we went about starting with Lev’s vitals.

Lev nodded. “She was a little mad,” he said, amusement shading his sheepish tone.

“I can imagine,” Ash said, wryly. “She did not make it easy for Bay and Nate. Imagine that little beast at full speed nonstop for the last four months.” On top of a newborn, who luckily, has been well behaved for the most part.

That had the undesirable effect of Lev wincing. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have been there to take care of her.”

“Well,” Ash said, squeezing Lev’s shoulder. “You did what you could. And what you did manage to do, for the most part, stopped her from reigning hell down on my entire family. So.” except for the small part of Lev, well, trying to keep his best friend dead, but considering Lev didn’t have his memories at the moment, he was going to put a pin in that particular bomb.

Lev rubbed at his eyes. “At least I’m back. I can take care of her now.”

“Uh, no,” Ash said. “What you are going to do is not exhaust yourself so you keel over on me. Speaking of. Walking to the kitchen? Alone? See, I remember telling you to do exactly the opposite. And do not try to split hairs with me by saying you had a sentry with you. Like I’d trust a glorified bodyguard to take care of one of my patients. Do something like that again, and I’ll confine your sorry ass to a wheelchair. Then we’ll talk about following orders, Levant.”

“I’m sorry,” Lev said. “I didn’t think about it. It won’t happen again. I don’t wanna die again. Nik needs me.”

“You know you have value outside of what you provide to others, yes?” Ash asked, leaning back. “You can just not wanna die because dying sucks. You don’t need to justify wanting to stay alive.”

Lev looked down at his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said, again. “I don’t know how to change my thinking over night.”

“Well,” Ash said. “Follow my orders and you might just get a hell of a long time to figure out how. Anyways, now that that is hammered into your head, and I am trusting you to not disobey my orders again, tell me how everything went the last few days. Leave nothing out.”

“I kept my last two meals down,” Lev said. “And I’m very tired.”

“Was a three day nap not long enough,” Ash said, with a dry smile. “I’m thinking that should fade soon enough.”

“I’m still cold.”

“Is it painful?” he asked. “Have there been times when your body heat went back to normal?”

“Sometimes,” Lev said. “Nik can rub some warmth into my arms, and baths help, but it always settles back into cold. It’s not hurting me,” he added. “It’s not stopping me from functioning, either. It’s just- cold.”

Ash hummed, thinking. “We can get you some food to produce some natural body heat,” he said. “Maybe it’ll help warm you up and it might jumpstart your body into its regular temperature. Maybe we can also jumpstart a heat…?”

That would definitely jumpstart something.

Lev wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want a heat. Not so soon after losing my baby.”

Ash sighed softly. “I know,” he said. “A heat, even if it’s not being used for reproductive uses like most omegas, or well, just simple intercourse, has many functions that are designed to help your body get back to it’s normal. Some patients who have been sick can have a heat induced to try to get the boost to their immune system that they need in order to get healthy again.”

“I’d still like to wait,” Lev said. “If it’s possible. At least… don’t induce one. Everything’s so weird right now.”

“Alright,” Ash said. “Your body has its own natural defenses. Odds are your body is going to want to keep itself alive on it’s own anyway. But you need to help. And since we’re not inducing a heat, that means we get to change your diet to include some new foods.”

“New foods would be nice,” Lev said. “Everything’s been kind of boring lately. Food included.”

Ash snorted. “Yeah? How do you feel about spices.”

---

Nik was chomping at the bit by the time Ash and Lev came out of the room. When they appeared in the kitchen, Ash’s eyes went for him while Lev went for Cameron’s lap. “Alright,” Ash said. “Your turn.” Nik grumbled and got up and startled for the bedroom, but not before hearing Ash say, “He’s gonna have a new diet. I’ll catch you up later.”

Nik went to plop down on the bed. “They’re going to ask why you keep wanting to see me,” Nik said, eyeing him.

“And I’ll tell them to mind their own business,” Ash retorted, sitting down in front of him. “How are you feeling?”

“I keep throwing up and crying and eating and sleeping all the damn time. Somehow, I turned into Lev overnight and I’d like to stop and go back to being not neurotic., thanks.”

“Well,” Ash said, “You’re pregnant. It’ll be that way for a few months, yet, unless you decide to take further action and terminate.”

That whole exchange scraped against his mind. “I don’t- When do I have to say anything?” Nik gnawed at his bracelets, trying to stop himself from getting worked up at the thought of having that particular conversation with either Lev or Cameron.

Ash lifted a shoulder. “You can start showing between 12 and 16 weeks,” Ash said. “Maybe less. However, you don’t have to say anything. It’s your body and your right to tell people to fuck off where it is concerned.”

Nik grimaced. “I don’t- I can’t have a kid,” Nik said, voice dropping more and more by the second. “Eden is different because I did not push that screaming ball of joy out of my body. And just. It’s not Cameron’s. He would know it’s not his, like he knows everything for some damn reason. What’s he going to do when the kid comes out looking nothing like him? Just because he lacks any kind of pigment does not mean that he’s not going to realize that the kid’s gonna look nothing like him, damn it.”

“Have you considered,” Ash said, irritatingly calm, “that Cameron just would not care?”

“Okay but he’s going to care that I cheated on him with-” Nik’s mouth snapped shut. “He’s going to care.”

“You have your options,” Ash said. “If you want, we can figure something out, but the longer we do nothing, the worse off it’ll be in the long run. You need to be on prenatal vitamins and need to adjust your diet. Especially if you’re getting sick.”

Nik wrinkled his nose. “Why?”

“Do you want that kid coming out with two heads?” Ash asked. “No, no you do not.”

“I came out with two heads and I’m doing just fine.”

“Nik. Focus.”

Nik folded his arms and slumped back into the bed, sighing tiredly. “What if he makes me go again,” he said, hating how his voice almost broke. “I don’t want to go.” He palmed his eyes when he felt the telltale prickle. He was not going to cry damn it.

“Destris is dead,” Ash said. “You’re going to stay home, wherever home is for you. And right now, he’s probably going to keep you as close as he can. You and Lev.”

Nik snapped up into a sitting position, too startled to focus much on anything but apparently the fact Destris was now dead and once again no one bothered to tell him a damn thing. “I- what? Since when?”

“A soul for a soul,” Ash said, tiredly. “Took his soul to get Lev’s back, I guess. Besides I figured his days were numbered anyway. It’s why Mar bailed on us at the beach.”

Nik curled back into the bed and pressed his face into the pillows. Made sense that Amara would prioritize putting Destris down to get her cousin back over Nik. Seemed everyone was prioritizing Lev over Nik lately. “Are we done now, because I want to go back to sleep.”

Ash put his hand on Nik’s shoulder. He seemed to want to say something, but thought better of it. “I’ll go get Lev for you.”

“You don’t have to,” Nik mumbled.

Ash gave him a final squeeze before getting up and leaving him alone in this irritatingly large bed. He only had a few minutes of quiet tears before he heard them come back towards the bedroom. Nik hastily wiped his eyes just in time for Cameron to carry a comatose Lev into the room.

Lev instantly curled in towards Nik the moment Cameron put him in the bed with him. Cameron watched Nik silently, gaging. “Do you need me to stay?”

“I’m sure you have paperwork or something else important to do,” Nik said, curling in against Lev. “Didn’t you burn your club down or something? Probably already working on the blueprints for a new one.”

“That’s not an answer,” Cameron said, flatly.

“Well it’s the one you’re getting.” He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against Lev. Maybe if he got lucky he’d have needled Cameron in the right way to get him to leave him alone. But of course it wasn’t his luck because he could feel Cameron’s eye roll directed at him.

A few moments later Cameron was climbing in bed with them, and even if Nik’s omega preened at the contact from his alpha he hadn’t had in months, it didn’t stop the guilt eating at him like acid.

---

It was Nik who woke Lev. He assumed it was for dinner, but when he sat up, Amara was in the doorway. Cameron was behind her, looking somewhat displeased. “Mar?” Lev asked, still half out of it.

“You get five minutes,” Cameron told Amara. “I won’t have you wearing him out.”

“Looks like he’s been sleeping plenty,” Amara said the moment she was out of arm's reach.

In a bored voice, Cameron said, “Sleep does not equate rest.”

Lev rubbed his eyes, and when Amara sat down on the edge of the bed, he leaned into her. She clung to him tightly. The kiss she pressed to his hair was firm. “Missed you,” she mumbled.

“I don’t remember… any of it,” he offered.

“Good. You were a fucking mess.” She pulled back, frowning. “Stars, you smell like roadkill. Minus the rot.”

“Shut up,” Nik said snippily.

“I do?” Lev asked in a small voice. He looked between Nik and Cameron. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been snuggling up with the two of you for days now.”

Cameron shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

“I wouldn’t know to ask if I smell dead,” Lev retorted, distressed.

“It’s fine,” Nik mumbled against his shoulder.

Lev pursed his lips, but looked away from them all. “I don’t know where my phone is,” he told Amara. “Or else I would have called you.”

“It’s fine.” Amara petted his curls. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“As you can see,” Cameron said. “He’s still breathing. You can leave now.”

Lev grabbed her wrist, knowing Cameron could see. “When I get a phone I’ll call you,” he said carefully, “But Cameron’s right. I need rest.”

“Are you accusing me of being non-restful?” Amara asked, pulling Lev’s hair lightly. Before anyone could call her out on it, “Yeah, alright. I’m not. Renee might head over this way,” She added. “Just? Call me? Semi often? Scared the shit out of me, lollygagging for three days. Thought you’d up and die again on me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Amara said, sounding tired. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Lev nodded, and leaned into the kiss she pressed to the top of his head. “Okay.”

Amara ruffled his hair, pointed a threatening finger in Nik’s direction with a mouthed ‘fucking call me’, and then stood, flouncing past Cameron with a loud, “AIright, alright, I’m going. Out of your hair.”

Nik looked a little resigned.

“I’ll be back,” Cameron said, nodding at Nik as he added, “Keep him entertained.”

Lev looked over to Nik once Cameron was gone. “I’m guessing he didn’t mean the usual way,” Lev said solemnly.

Nik lifted his brows. “I’m guessing not, but I’m not opposed.”

Lev gave a small snort. “Are you ever?” He asked.

Nik gave a tiny smile. “I have my moments.”

Well. Fair. Lev touched Nik’s cheek, pressed their foreheads together. Nik kissed him, soft and hesitant. Lev kissed him back, wrapping his non-IV’d arm around Nik’s neck.

“That’s not resting,” Cameron said from the doorway, startling Lev away from Nik.

Lev blinked. “You said to keep him entertained,” Lev replied sheepishly.

“I did,” Cameron said dryly.

When Lev looked at Nik, he was glowering at Cameron. “Yeah, you said keep me entertained, Cameron.”

“It was just kissing,” Lev promised. “Nothing stressful. Promise.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Lev leaned back into Nik. Nik bit down on Lev’s shoulder. “Is it time for dinner?” Lev asked settling a little more comfortably against Nik.

Cameron watched him. Eventually he said, “It will be soon. I can come get you when it’s ready, unless you want to help.”

Lev shook his head. “Honestly, I’m tired,” he admitted. “I was going to ask if I could eat in bed.”

Cameron pursed his lips. “Alright,” he said quietly. “If you need anything, have one of the sentries come get me.”

“I will,” Lev promised. Once Cameron was gone, Nik curled into Lev. Lev kissed Nik again, before closing his eyes. “Wake me when Cameron comes to get us?” Lev asked sleepily.

“Okay,” Nik replied quietly. He kissed Lev’s forehead, and gave a soft, “Love you.”

Lev blinked hard. “What?” He asked, looking up at Nik.

Nik looked startled. “Um. I love you?”

Something warm bloomed in Lev’s chest. “I love you too,” Lev promised.

Nik kissed Lev’s forehead. “Go to sleep,” he said.

So Lev did, pleased and content.

 Tagging: @incandescent-creativity @idreamonpaper @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur @i-want-to-pinch-cams-cheeks @caelisis