#am i bitter they never got more time in the books and on screen? yes

[pink-tea]

dumb blonde

☆ pairing: choi soobin x gn! reader

☆ nsfw, 18+

☆ word count: 4.1k (this number was honestly a jumpscare when i checked)

☆ sub! soobin, blonde! soobin, college au!, soobin with glasses <3, dumb blonde soobin, dom! reader, gender neutral pronouns but reader is afab at the time of smut, slut shaming, use of the word "bunny" once or twice, use of the word "slut", praise/degradation kink, nipple play

☆ the smart blonde has kept your attention this entire semester, but it isn't until your friend, yeonjun, offers you up to tutor his friend from work that you realize that really he's just a dumb blonde

you had always thought that the blonde boy in your class had a good head on his shoulders. always in the back of the lecture hall, either staring at his laptop screen or boredly looking through the assigned pages of whatever textbook you were currently reading. always the first one to turn in tests and quizzes, you secretly admired your classmate as he left the room before anyone else. 

‘he must be really smart’ you would always think to yourself before spending almost the entire class time to fill out your tests. whatever method works best though, you always got one of the top scores in the class. it felt good, but you’re sure it would’ve felt better had you been able to finish a test within the first 20 minutes and get the same grade. 

you never really checked or pressed about the scores of your other classmates—really only keeping in touch with two of them anyways—but you had always been sure that the blonde (used to be black haired) boy had done good. and it stayed that way until the first semester was well on its way to being over and finals were starting to plague the student body. 

“[your nameeeee],” a voice cut through your thoughts, causing you to turn around and raise a brow at your older, pink haired friend. 

choi yeonjun was practically a campus heartthrob, with pretty plump lips and irresistible, charismatic charm. you were well aware of that fact all the way up to when the two of you were paired together for a project, where you had almost cost the two of you ten points for forgetting to correctly cite your evidence on a slide of your presentation. you didn’t even get to apologize, promising to finish the slide an hour before the 11:59pm due date before you were on the phone with a hissy pretty boy who had pressed all the right buttons to get the stress you had been building up to burst. 

the call had ended with the two of you calmed but still bitter, silently glaring at each other’s icons on the same slide as you shared the citation work load, and with  a newfound respect for each other. you walked into your lecture the next morning with choi yeonjun holding an iced cup of coffee to you, a silent peace offering. you had smiled and promised to pay for the next one, and ended up leaving the class with a newfound friendship that had many people jealous of your proximity to the otherwise nerve-wracking boy. 

thus, your current predicament, sifting through an otherwise empty library with your friend as you attempted to scavenge for any research material at close to 10pm at night. yeonjun came to accompany you after originally crashing your dorm to have fun and play on your switch before realizing you actually had work to do. 

“yes?” you responded mindlessly, running a finger across the lightly worn spines of the books, worn more by age than actual use. 

“you’re smart,” he started, prompting you to look at him suspiciously out of the corner of your eye.

“yes, you are too,” you hummed, not mad at the praise but more concerned as to why your friend was suddenly pulling compliments out of thin air. your gut told you one thing and one thing only: he needed a favor. 

“i am,” he chuckled in agreement, prompting you to snort at his show of ego. “however, you, have more free time than I do,” he pointed out, which definitely made your suspicions start to rise. 

“just because you do a shit ton of modeling doesn’t mean I have more time to spare,” you shoot back, growing more concerned at the fact that this started to sound a lot like a time consuming favor. he rolls his eyes at your words, mouth opening up to most likely throw a (light hearted) insult your way before he closes it.

fuck, he definitely needed a favor if he wasn't back talking.

"just spit it out already, i know you want something," you huff, perking up at the sight of the crusty textbook you had been looking for. you reached out and grabbed it from where it was smashed between two equally crusty books. you held it in your hand and opened to the title page, wincing at the audible crackle of the spine.

you could hear the eye roll you received, but yeonjun happily took the invitation to cut to the chase.

"one of my coworkers goes here too, and he helped get me my current gig since he knows the photographer," he explained, pausing to laugh at the way you coughed when dust flew into your face after flipping the next few pages. "but the thing is, he's a little stupid," he said bluntly, causing you to chuckle.

"poor bastard," you hummed, closing the book and tucking it into the duffle bag you were carrying with you.

"extremely poor, he's gonna fail the semester if he doesn't get a good grade on his final, which is why i need you to help tutor him," your friend finally finished, causing you to pause in your tracks before sharply glaring up at him.

"an unpaid tutor? are you serious?" you hissed.

"it's just until he gets a good grade on his final! look, i promised and i can pay you back for him," he reassured, pouting at the harshness of your glare. you groaned audibly before turning and beginning to walk away, causing yeonjun to quickly start talking again. "hey, look, it could be worse! he's a total cutie, so at least you get to tutor eye candy!" he tried to persuade, causing you to let out a scoff.

"junnie, you act like i'm gonna be fucking the guy more than i'm gonna be tutoring him," you deadpanned, causing a cheshire grin to spread on the pinkette's naturally pouty lips.

"who says you can't do both?"

-

now you wish you had never listened to this asshole and his promise to buy you takeout whenever you wanted till you finished tutoring his friend. because yes, his friend soobin, was in fact the greatest 6'1 piece of eye candy you ever seen. but he also seemed to share the same black framed glasses and blonde hair as the boy you had been fixated on for the past semester.

"ah," you let the sound slip past your mouth before you could even register it. probably less than a few centimeters away from knocking his head into your doorway stood the model your friend had been talking about. surprise not surprise, he was most definitely the guy from your class.

it took a few more seconds of gawking and the guy doing his best not to look too uncomfortable under your stare for you to snap out of it. "you're choi soobin?" you asked, tilting your head. he nodded hesitantly in response.

"[your name] [last name]," you introduced, watching almost in a trance as a shy smile crawled onto his lips.

"i know," he responded, causing your eyes to widen and your heart to flutter at his boldness. he seemed to catch on to what his words might sound like, eyes quickly widening in panic. "y-yeonjun! he's mentioned you before!" he added, ears burning.

you stared a second longer before smiling, stepping aside to let him into your dorm. "only good things i hope, but knowing yeonjun that probably isn't the case," you joked, watching soobin as he chuckled at your remark and stepped in. you couldn't help but just watch.

god he was cute...

...but damn did studying suck!

after an hour of what felt like running in a circle trying to teach this boy simple concepts that he should've learned like two years ago, you soon found yourself growing frustrated. sighing irritably in a way that had soobin flinching, you tried to put down your erasable pen as gently as you could without slamming it down onto your desk.

"if you're struggling this much with the current coursework, how the actual fuck have you been turning in your shit so quickly in class?" you huffed, patience already thin enough to where you were openly swearing to someone who was practically a stranger.

soobin visibly flinched this time, lips twisting into a sort of grimace/pout as his fingers wrung together. "i usually just guess...most of the homeworks and partner projects lift up my grade," he admits guiltily, quickly shattering whatever ideals you used to have of him in just one sentence/study session.

you laugh in disbelief, looking over his guilty expression as he sits in one of your spare chairs. "so what, you let people carry you through your classes and projects just cause they think you're pretty?" you shoot, soobin's eyes quickly flickering up at you through his lenses.

"what? don't tell me you think people actually help you cause they're nice," you ask in shock, the blonde shaking his head as his gaze drops back down to his lap.

"no, it's just, i didn't think you thought i was pretty too," he admitted softly, making your eyebrows almost shoot up past your hair line. ain't no fucking way.

"seeing that you can't even get 4 questions right, you've gotta be pretty for how much of a dumb blonde you are," you immediately scold, testing the waters to see if you're getting the right signals. soobin seems to shrink even more in his seat, fists curled in his lap as he lets his head drop along with his gaze. the angle lets you observe the soft red beginning to dust the tip of his ears.

"m' sorry," he whispers, the motion of his thighs squeezing together doesn't go unnoticed by you. in a bold move, you slide into his space, forcing your knee in between his and drinking in the startled mewl that rips from his throat at the aggressive motion. he looks up at you again, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

his lips are parted, you swear you can see them tremble a little bit and you don't fight any of your previous urges to touch the pathetic boy. smiling at his state, you press your thumb into his bottom lip, grabbing and tilting his chin up in the process. he gasps, letting his mouth drop open to let your thumb slide on top of his tongue.

it's wet and you bet it wouldn't take more than a few seconds for saliva to start dripping down your knuckle. pressing down on the pink muscle, you tilt your head down at soobin's slightly hunched figure. "you said you're sorry?" you ask, pressing your thumb down so hard that soobin almost has to fight the urge to swallow around it.

instead he nods hesitantly, eyes wide and watery as his glasses start to slip down the pretty bridge of his nose. you almost grin at the action, watching the saliva finally side down soobin's pink lips. removing your thumb, you take the drenched digit and wipe it across his cheek, pressing it hard enough against his skin for his head to turn a little.

he only has the time to close his mouth and swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth before he yelps at the sudden feeling of your hand in his dyed hair. soobin watches your smile turn into something cruel, feels his dick get harder in his suddenly too-tight jeans when he realizes you must think he looks completely at your mercy like this.

"do you even need these?" you huff, reaching to swipe his glasses off his face, making him flinch as you dangle them between your fingers. "i bet they're just for show huh, doing your best to not let anyone know how much of a stupid bunny you are," you accuse.

soobin's mouth opens like he's about to defend himself before it closes and his head droops in your hold, face burning brighter. "t-they're just for looks," he admits, the fact more humiliating than it should be. he should defend himself, bring up the fact that tons of people use non-prescription lenses for fashion, but his mind is still reeling from getting called a stupid bunny.

you do nothing to help, only giving him a short and disbelieving laugh before you're yanking his head back up to look at you. "hey," you call out for his attention, locking your gaze with his in a way that makes him want to squirm. "hurry up and get on the bed if you're really sorry for wasting my time," you say, tossing soobin's glasses to some unknown corner of your room as the gears turn in his head.

he's still frozen to his chair even after you release his hair from your hold, and you harshly nudge his growing bulge with the knee stuck between his legs. the impact makes him fight back a groan as he yolts, looking up at your glare with unmistakable puppy eyes.

"come on," you rush, watching as soobin immediately snaps back into reality and starts to stumble over himself to get up and on the bed. you want to coo at his eagerness, but suddenly grab his wrist as he begins to walk over to your mattress on wobbly legs.

"get naked first," you instruct, releasing your hold on his wrist. "and do it slow, right here," you hum, leaning back into your chair as you watch soobin's face grow pink in humiliation.

"like a strip tease?" he asks barely above a mumble, obviously mortified at the idea.

you laugh at his quivering voice, smiling and nodding eagerly. "mhm," you confirm, taking in his shifty nature and downcast eyes. "don't tell me you've never done one before," you accuse, suddenly looking at him through squinted eyes.

he quickly shakes his head, shaky fingers reaching up to grasp at the ends of hoodie. he keeps them there for a few beats before looking back up at you, hesitant. "s-slowly?" he asks.

this time you can't help but coo, fawning over how shy yet eager to please he is. "slowly," you nod.

soobin gulps before slowly beginning to take the gray piece of clothing off, revealing a delicious stomach that was lean yet slightly toned. as a model, obviously he'd have a pretty face and nice figure. your fingers twitch at your side as he starts to slowly uncover more of his torso, horribly aware of the daggers your stare is burying into his skin.

it's only when the end of the hoodie starts to slip over his nipples that you feel your initial plan to have himself strip crumble. you needed him under your fingers, in your mouth, gasping on your tongue. you stand up and start to close the small distance between you two, making him flinch and start to lower the fabric in his hands.

roughly, you grab the end of hoodie and tug it up past his nipples, making him gasp. holding it to his mouth, it only takes your voice to snap soobin out of his initial confusion. "hold this," you demand, looking at him with a look so predatory he can do nothing but swallow his saliva and close his pretty lips over it.

"good boy," you hum, now using both your hands to trail up from his v-line to his stomach. "knows just what to do, doesn't he?" you ask, raking your fingernails over the sensitive skin of his stomach as he looks down at you.

your gaze flickers up to meet his.

"answer."

soobin nods sporadically, catching the way his mind begins to slip as you fingers trail higher to his hardened nipples. you smile and the boy can only watch as you place your thumbs on your tongue one by one, slicking them up with saliva before putting the pressure on the pink buds. he jolts at both the feeling and the temperature, the saliva immediately catching on the blowing a.c. in your room.

he lets out a muffled moan at the feeling of your thumbs slowly rolling over his nipples, almost releasing the hoodie in his mouth when you add your mouth to kiss between the valley of his pecs. your sweet butterfly kisses trail lower and lower, your hands following down the minimal curves of his side as you go.

it's at this point that soobin realizes he doesn't know what the fuck to do with his hands, keeping them clenched tight next to him as he tries to refrain from touching you. he can't, however, restrain the full body jolt and muffled cry he releases as your lips press nicely against the hardened bulge within his jeans.

you take your fingers to unbutton them and pull down the zipper, the denim falling to the floor around him as you eye the obvious stain of precum against his calvin klein boxers. you don't give him any warning, almost causing him to cry out again as your hand slips into his underwear to tug his weeping cock out.

he's shaking by now, doing his best to hold himself up on wobbly legs as you lazily pump his erection. "pretty," you comment, admiring the flushed pink tip. "i guess everything about you is pretty," you comment off-handedly, making soobin's ears flush red before he throws his head back in pleasured agony.

harshly, you suck on the flushed tip, licking over the head to clean the precum seeping through his slit. you know he's fully expecting a blow job at this point, but with this you get off him with a cute 'pop' and tug his boxers down to meet his jeans.

standing up, you yank the sopping fabric out of his mouth, tugging the hoodie over his head and through his arms while all he can do is follow your movements. his last piece of clothing drops to the ground, and you give a happy hum as you look him over. pretty.

"bed," you say, and soon you have the 6'1 blonde laying down flat on your sheets as you look down at him.

you'd like to give him a strip tease in return, but the sight of him is so delicious that it gives you the patience of a starved man. soobin doesn't seem to mind, however, hazy eyes following your every move as you remove your clothes. when you get to your underwear, you pause at the thought of shoving them into his mouth as you ruin him.

one look at his pouted lips changes your mind; you want to hear every sound he makes.

"where do you want me?" you ask him, patiently waiting through the four seconds it takes him to form a response.

"on top," he admits finally, his fingers now finding themselves tangling in your now wrinkled sheets.

"on top?" you ask, taking your time as settle your naked figure on top of him. only, you settle just a few centimeters short of his chest, making him whine in protest. the weight of your body on him feels so good that he almost forgets to breathe, but this isn't what he asked for.

"what?" you ask, cupping his face as his lips twist into a clearly displeased frown. "is this not where you want me?" you tilt your head in curiosity, but your eyes clearly show how much you're enjoying it.

"i want- i want you lower," he confesses, brows furrowed and hands twitching as he fights the urge to grip your waist and slide you onto his cock himself. but soobin isn't a bad boy. he's your pretty little blonde angel and he knows better than to make you mad.

"lower?" you hum, making soobin's head drop onto the sheets underneath him as you slide your wet pussy down his chest and onto his abs. he can feel everything. he can feel you throbbing on top of him, but one look at your collected face makes him almost cry in frustration. you know where he wants you, you want him there too, but you're just being so so mean.

"[your name]," he nearly begs, eyes watering up as you look at him through your lashes.

"what's wrong now, tell me," you hush, sliding your hands down from his face in order to roll his pink nipples under your thumb once more, causing him to jolt underneath you. so cute, so sensitive. "tell me what you want," you urge, and soobin knows he has to be specific.

"i want you on my cock, please," he sobs, curling his fists tighter around your bed sheets. you smile down at him, feeling the words go straight to your clit. you know he can feel it too.

"how bad do you want it?" you ask finally, taking in soobin's borderline heartbroken expression at the question. but you're pleasantly surprised at the tears that start to slip down his cheeks.

"please please please, i want it! i need you around me, please!" he sobs, his puppy eyes going into full affect as he lightly thrashes in his attempt to lean up to get closer to you.

you stay silent for a few moments, eyes taking in the sight before you shrug. "can't say no to that, now can i?" you wonder aloud, finally grabbing his pulsing dick and sliding down on top.

you both groan at the same time, and when soobin shuts his eyes, you notice the stars in his eyes once he opens them back up.

you set a sweet pace, rolling your hips against his pelvis to get the both of you used to the feeling. you sigh in content, feeling pleasantly stuffed as you press your hands down on his chest for leverage.

"my dumb little blonde takes pussy so well," you coo, feeling soobin's hips stutter under you at the praise. "i bet he gets all his experience from letting any tutor fuck his dumb brain right," you add on, feeling his dick twitch inside your walls as he pouts.

"i d-don't let my tutors f-fuck me," he whines, rolling his head to the side as you start to properly bounce on him.

"oh yeah? am i not your tutor?" you ask, making him glance back up at you. "don't lie about being a slut, you're so fucking good at it, bunny," you scold, grabbing his chin to make him turn to you once more. there's more tears gathering in his glossy eyes.

"i'm not lying," he insists meekly, letting out a loud moan as you slam your hips down onto him and start to go at a painstakingly slow yet firm pace.

"you're gonna start telling me what i know and don't know now?" you question, tilting your head to the side as you keep eye contact. "last time i checked, my dumb slut doesn't know shit," you spat, pulling a whimper from soobin. "needs to fuck every one of his tutors so that they don't slap him silly for being so stupid," you continue, making him sob as the insults go straight to the dick he has buried inside your cunt.

"do you wanna get slapped, huh?" you ask him, taking the hand on his face to lightly tap at his tear-stained cheek. "i know you like getting told how dumb you are, can feel it inside of me," you remind him, making him let out a small 'n-no' as he turns his head away from your hand.

"of course not," you tsk. "you just want to waste my time and have me put you back into your place," you don't expect your words to have the effect they do, but soon you feel soobin's hands on your hips as he tries to lean up to you again.

"m' sorry, i'm sorry for being dumb," he cries, looking oh so cute as he begs for your forgiveness. you can't excuse bad behavior, though, snatching his wrist and pinning them over his head with one hand. you lean forward more, placing your other hand right next to his head to keep you steady.

"can't accept your apology if you're forgetting to keep your hands to yourself," you comment coldly.

"s-sorry," he whispers, shrinking into your mattress.

"wanna know how to make it up to me?" you ask, watching him quickly nod. he's dumb, he's sensitive and emotional, but if he's not the cutest sub--oh so eager to please--you don't know what he is.

"come inside, show me just how much i can fuck you dumb when i make you come over and over again," you explain, soobin's eyes going wide at the vulgarity. his dick aches painfully inside your tight cunt, wanting to fill it up with his orgasm however many times you want him to.

[afaimscorner]

The Magicians 4x13

So, I finally saw that one and ... the only positive thing I can say about it is that the rendition of "Take on Me" was really beautiful, if misplaced, but ....

... I put watching Season 4 of for years after German television just stopped airing "The Magicians" after Season 3 (and stopped with the Home Release after Season 2) and after getting spoiled for the end of Season 4, which I was really in no hurry to see if I had to put actual work in. So after being able to watch the first three episodes without work it took me until 2023 to watch the rest of the season, and while catching up I got the general gist from the fandom and was not motivated to watch that season finale, but ...

... I was not prepared. Even if you put aside anything else, this episode was a mess and not in a good way! The whole season seemed to be building toward something but not toward this! And knowing what went down around the show the last few weeks before the finale aired does make everything even worse!

And if the "quality" of this episode is any indication for Season 5, I can understand why more or less the whole fandom fled the show during it's last season.

And, yes, I am sorry, but saying "it was not suicide because your friends loved you and you love them and would never willingly leave them" does not change the fact that it was suicide and that this episode and the whole show with it does now endorse suicide, even though the intention behind the books and the first three and a half season of this show was the opposite!

There is nothing wrong with writing a character out of show (even though people still haven't learned that it's never a good idea to do this with the main character), there is nothing wrong with killing a character of in a show and there is even nothing wrong with writing a scene in which a character sacrifices themself for others and/or the greater good, but there is definitly a wrong way to do all of those things and this show did on the top of all of this also manage to send the wrong message with all of it by - again!- endorsing suicide to an audience who is struggeling with Mental Healt Issues none the less!!

I am not sure those people should ever be hired to write a new show by anyone ever again after this crap (I have no idea, if they did since "The Magicians" ended, but given how crazy life has been since then it is totally possible).

The real bitter thing is that this was one of the few shows that was very much made for me personally (have you any idea how few there are?) and I really loved it. But now I am not sure I have it even in me to watch Season 5 anymore, because I am so digusted with the people behind the scenes. Which is probably a shame, because I was told the show did not really change at least in the first half of the final season, so it could be a blast (and finally Elliot would be on screen again), but maybe it's just crap in the end and I am better off never subjecting myself to it, who knows?

It's not like someone will tell me if watching Season 5 is worth the time I would put in it, because no one is talking about the show anymore, so yeah, it's one of those decicions, I never wanted to have to make.

[doorianpavus]

“Carlisle convinced his Irish friends to make the journey to Forks. Siobhan, Liam and little Maggie. They stood close and observed with wise, old eyes as the room began to fill with more and more of their kind.”

[sinnabonka]

Prompt: Sam figuring out that Cas has feelings for Dean and vice versa!

(I might have got carried away with this one)

There’s no eureka moment, the understanding doesn’t fall from the sky. It starts like a little song playing on the back of Sam’s head, quiet, unobtrusive, that gets louder and louder every day, up to the point he can’t ignore it anymore.

First, there are looks, few words ringing not quite right. There is the accidental brushing of sleeves and knuckles. There’s healing with the usually not required touch. There’s a hug, when Castiel comes back from the dead once again, that lasts just a moment longer to be casual. Then there’s “It’s Cas”, as if it explains everything, and there’s “He’s coming with us” and finally there’s “Cas is family”, which ends the argument.

There are movie nights with one bowl of popcorn for two of them and half voice midnight conversations with beer, loud laughs at breakfasts and some more looks. 

All the “Are you coming?” are met with “Of course”, but Dean just keeps asking. He doesn’t have to, he knows it, Cas knows it, Sam knows it, too, but he still does it every time.

Dean stares, when Cas seems to be too deep in the book to notice. Castiel stares back, when Dean throws himself at the burger after the long and exhausting hunt. Sam smiles, when the angel blushes and averts his eyes being caught.

It’s not his goddamn business, so he doesn’t get any farther then a knowing smile and an occasional joke, but he knows. Sam has no idea when it has changed, when the tectonic plates in his brother’s mind shifted and initiated the imminent collapse of the walls he’s been raising within himself for so long. They go down crushing, eventually freeing him. 

Dean feels lighter, he looks lighter, the green in his eyes starts to shine with renewed vigour. He smiles more often, and his smiles are not bitter and they don’t stay only on his lips anymore. His whole face lights up and his eyes get framed with tiny wrinkles, them being the only implication of the years that have passed. That’s a good look on him. 

One night Dean shoves himself on the couch right between Sam and Cas, as if there was no perfectly good armchair next to the TV. In the old days, they’d be fighting over such a perfect spot for the movie night, but now? After some fidgeting and wriggling, Dean finally settles in, takes the bowl of popcorn from the table and puts it down onto his knees.

“A’right.” Dean nudges Cas with his elbow. “Ready for a little hike through Middle-earth?”

Dean’s face is ridiculous, he can’t bring himself to stop smiling. Cas, on other hand, looks at the still image on the screen with a confused frown. 

“I thought it was supposed to be a movie night,” he glances at Dean.

Sam chuckles. Cas might have lost his alien tilt of head along with his grace, gained some normal habits, started to wear hoodies and t-shirts, rediscovered his love for PB&J, even caught a cold once, but he still was not fully human. 

“No, that’s not...I…oh, come on.” Dean bursts with laughter, as if it was the funniest thing ever happened in the bunker. Cas eyes soften, they always do when he hears Dean laughing, especially, when he is the reason for that. “Middle-Earth? Shire? We’ve talked about it, man, c’mon.” 

Cas nods, lips puckered, eyes fixed on Dean’s hand now resting on top of his thigh. Dean does not notice, or acts like doesn't, stuffing his face with popcorn using his other hand. Neither is bothered by the touch, so why should Sam be? 

The movie is so goddamn long, and for the most part Dean keeps narrating everything that’s happening on screen. He explains what Cas doesn’t get, he points out some important details, he talks and he talks and he talks. And Castiel listens, silent, content, eyes bright and shiny in the dim lights. He looks like a kid seeing a Christmas tree for the first time in his life. Cas looks at Dean, and he doesn’t see a man in his forties with silver already touching his temples, he sees a miracle. Sam looks away, finding the scene too sacred for him to witness.

Cas straightens up his legs at some point, which have started to fall asleep with not much going on for the last two hours. It has it’s downhill, meaning Dean taking away his hand. The deep shadow of disappointment lays across Cas’ face, as his thigh starts to cool off. He sighs. Right away, with a little smile, Dean, eyes on TV through the whole action, casually throws his hand against the back of the couch. It just happens to be around Cas’ shoulders, too.

Sam smiles softly at the imagery. The way Cas instantly cozies closer to Dean’s side and grabs a handful of popcorn to munch on, makes his heart skip a beat. He might have suspected it for a long time, he might have even known it deep inside, but seeing it with his own two eyes... 

It hits differently.

Sam gets his stuff, yawns theatrically, making sure Dean notices the gesture and doesn’t think his hand around Cas’ shoulders has anything to do with him leaving, and heads out.

“Night, Sammy,” Dean rasps behind his back. 

“Good night, you two.” 

Sam glances at them, before shutting the door. Cas is slowly drifting off, head resting atop Dean’s shoulder, and Dean, with one of his softest smiles on, is gently stroking Cas’ side. He might be still looking at the screen, but his mind is definitely not in Shire anymore. There’s something in his eyes Sam has never seen before.

He catches Sam looking, but instead of interrupting the mindless movement of his hand, he just pulls Cas closer. Instead of getting embarrassed and looking away, he gives Sam one of those expressions screaming “I know, right? How lucky am I?”

Sam chuckles and nods. Yes, you are.

The door shuts with a quiet thud, leaving Sam alone in the darkness of the corridor. He stays there for a moment, just listening to the rambling of TV and a single little squeak of the couch, probably just Dean leaning back, so Cas could snooze while still in his arms. 

Sam walks back to his room thinking that life is not as bad.

Good things do happen. And sometimes to Winchesters, too.

[peregrintook]

would you recommend trop now? 👀

Listen.... LISTEN ANON!!!!! 😭

Do you want the short or the long answer?

The short one is yes.

The long one is .... under the cut. 😂

The long one I think is still basically yes but it depends so strongly on what you want from it!

Do you want a faithful to canon lore accurate Silmarillion (first/second age) adaption? And is that the only thing you want and will you be upset fi it is anything different? Then probably don't watch it.

But. BUT!

If you're open to some changes and some creativity then give it a CHANCE.

Because I was so sceptical and so critical and pretty much convinced I wasn't going to like it and I'd only watch the first episode just so I'd be able to complain about it later.

And don't get me wrong there are still a bunch of things in there that I'm not really happy with but.. honestly the things they did right make up for it.

First of all it's absolutely visually stunning. The costumes, the locations, it's GORGEOUS. Lindon especially, and Khazad Dum, and Numenor, and if middle-earth means as much to you as it does to me then you will WEEP seeing these locations on screen.

And then the characters!! Sure, I can't say I'm a big fan of rop Galadriel (yet) but - listen, this is only season 1, she may yet get a whole lot of character development. BUT THERE ARE SO MANY OTHERS.

You all know I'm absolutely obsessed with rop Elrond. Even though when they released the promo pictures of the cast first I was like ??? Who this ??? This not Elrond ??? BUT YES HE IS. This Elrond is so wise and so good and so noble and so calm and just so COMFORTING. KIND AS SUMMER INDEED!!! Seriously, give Robert Aramayo one minute of your time to convince you of his acting skills and you'll never doubt him again. This man knows what he's doing.

But moving on to less obvious opinions - Durin!!! He has a huge heart like. Pats him on the head this short man can fit so much love. He's just so GENUINE and soft and good and loyal and brave and mischievous and WONDERFUL. and so is Disa! Am I still annoyed that she doesn't have a beard? Yes, a bit, but look she has a LITTLE bit of a beard, and anyway she doesn't need one. She's amazing. She's wonderful and lovely and wise and kind and good and fiery and passionate and supportive and accepting and she's a mother and a princess and a resonator and a friend and a mediator and I just love her SO MUCH.

And Arondir is wonderful too, I'm SO annoyed that his character (and actor!) are getting so much hate just for his skin color and because he's an original character, like ??? It doesn't MATTER, he's LOVELY. Sure he doesn't look like your generic white skinned long haired PJ movies elf but he doesn't have to! He's BEAUTIFUL and he's an elf and he's a wonderful character with so much love and compassion and goodness in his heart, he just wants to save as much of the world as he possibly can, he just wants to do GOOD.

Which reminds me - Nori!!! Nori is very similar to Arondir actually, I think, just more innocent and naive - understandably because she is MUCH younger, but still - all she wants to do it do something good, something that matters.

If you haven't noticed a theme by now, let me point it out to you: there is so much goodness in this show. And I find that so fucking refreshing. Because after GoT and all the "ThE nExT GoT" we got over the last few years I have been getting seriously tired of grimdark pessimistic "blabla this is realistic because everything sucks and nobody is actually good everybody is ultimately selfish" bullcrap. No offense to GoT fans, I know that's not ALL got is and I'm sure the books are better about it (I haven't read past the first one because I don't do well with too many POVs!), but there's just been this increase of demand or expectation for violence and cynicism and bitterness (and also lots and lots of sex for some reason) in high fantasy lately - and ROP doesn't do that. ROP says we're here to be good to each other. We're here to treat each other kindly. We don't want to give the darkness even a chance, not out there, and not in ourselves. We care about each other and we work together and that is how we win, ultimately.

I think this theme is strongest in the arcs of Durin and Elrond, and Nori, and Arondir so far - which is why they're my favorites - it's less apparent in Galadriel and Halbrand and Miriel's part of the story yet, but I have a feeling it will be eventually. Galadriel is already learning, she's already changed from episode 1. She'll get there. And look at the Harfoots - going from "you're going to the end of the caravan and if you can't keep up that's goodbye then i guess" to "what's the point of living if we can't live good"?? FUCK, MAN. SHE'S RIGHT. What WOULD be the point??

GOD I could go on but I have to get something to eat so I'll stop here but feel free to comment because I'd LOVE to discuss rop with you all!! <33

[pennylanewrites]

＊Smile＊

minors dni!

description: Armin Arlert loves sweet, innocent things, especially when he can ruin them with his very own sickening sweetness.

pairings: Armin Arlert x gn! reader

word count: 2.4k

contains: smut duh, modern au, private college richboy armin, mild obsession with reader, oral (male receiving), use of the word ‘whore’, like one slap, unprotected sex (nothing spills inside dw), lowkey manipulation (what else y’all expected from armin?)

!!reader is afab(assigned female at birth), gender neutral and of legal age (around their 2nd year of college)!!

)^o^(

Whatever Armin Arlert wanted, Armin Arlert got. Cars, VIP seats, answers to exams, anything you can imagine. Being one of the most well-respected alumni of Paradis Institute's only son definitely had its advantages.

Girls and boys begged for a chance to be noticed by Armin Arlert, who wore his Prefect pin proudly and monitored the halls with his head high, but to no avail. Armin had long forgotten about sex, he found it appalling and unnecessary, unless it was with you.

You, who walked with your head high just like him. You, who would talk with classmates and wonder why they sprinted away as soon as the Prefect turned a corner. You, who could swear you heard a few camera clicks every time you used the communal showers. You, who despite being beautiful and charming, could not get a significant other for the life of you. Yes, your classmate, Armin had made sure the only person available to you would be himself; the handsome, smart and rich Prefect.

"Can I help you, Arlert?" Were the only words you spoke to him when he entered the science lab you were trying to work in.

"Am I bothering you, ___ ? I can leave." You took one look at his big, ocean blue eyes and sighed, taking your glasses off.

"No, sorry."

"Rough day? I'm sure it's nothing a massage can't solve." He offered, walking around the table you were working on and immediately placing his hands on your stiff shoulders. You shrugged them off quickly and faced the other way.

"Are you sure you don't want a massage from the person paying for your scholarship?" He whispered in a low voice, which would be very attractive if you weren't intimidated by him. You gulped and nodded, allowing him to happily massage your shoulders and upper back.

"I heard you're having a hard time with the new lecture."

"I-I do." You tried withholding a pleased sigh. The massage was definitely working.

"Be at my dorm around seven. I'll help you with it, ___." Armin left with a polite smile and bow of his head, leaving you to wonder how he looked so sweet yet acted so bitter.

At seven sharp, you stood outside of Armin Arlert's dormitory, patting your hair down, fixing your shirt underneath your uniform pants and looking around nervously. With a deep breath, you finally knocked on the wooden door, which was opened almost immediately.

"Come in, ___!" Armin's face lit up the moment he saw you and he stepped away for you to enter his room. A kitchenette, a double bed, a desk and a bookcase filled all the space, just like every other dorm on campus. And as you set your books on the desk, you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of tiles, running water and a nude person as the lock screen on his laptop, which he was quick to close before you took another look.

"Would you like a coffee, ___?"

"Yes, please."

It was getting past ten and your head could barely stand up on its own. You leaned back on the chair and stretched your arms out, yawning into one of them. Armin noticed and closed your book, his hand lingering on it.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" ,he exclaimed and opened a drawer, "I have some flash cards for you!"

"Oh, it's not necessa–"

"I insist." He said firmly and looked through some neatly filed papers. Once again, your eye caught a few pictures of someone's back profile and you could swear they had the same lower back tattoo as you. You, however, dismissed it once again. Boys tend to have pictures of pornstars, right?

Flipping through the flash cards, a picture fell out and Armin rushed to pick it up before you could. This time, however, it was loud and clear that the person in those photos was you taking a shower. At the time, you didn't know that all those pictures were set up on purpose. For you to see and become vulnerable in front of Armin Arlert.

"Armin, what's that?" Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper instead of the clear and stern tone you were planning on.

"Just something I'm planning on posting on the college's site tonight." He grinned.

"Wh-what? Why would you–"

"I don't know, ___. You tell me." He leaned closer to you, holding his weight on the arms of your chair. His blond hair fell over his eyes, making it the perfect shade of dark blue under the shadows.

"I have to go." You said sheepishly and started picking your books up, but an arm around your waist stopped you.

"Why do you keep on resisting me, ___?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I want you. And you want me too, right?"

     You were confused. Heartbroken. You always thought of Armin as nothing else than your classmate. So, what was this sudden urge to lock your lips with his?

     Looking up, you were met with a dark look in his eyes and a grin that seemed almost evil. You knew deep down he had dark intentions, but at the same time, you needed to know what those intentions were.

“I’ve never seen you wearing a skirt or a dress...you always act so modest, but the way you touch yourself so desperately in the shower...” his hand ghosted over your clothed thigh and stopped at your hip, “you just want to get fucked like a whore, right?”

“A-Armin...”

“Why don’t you put a little show for me? Undress yourself.” He sat on his chair and opened his legs, shamelessly showing off the tent in his uniform pants.

With a blush decorating your cheeks and a trembling bottom lip at the embarrassment suddenly hitting you, you slowly unbuttoned your white dress shirt and let it drop on the floor. Kicking the Oxford shoes your school required off, your hands made way to the side zipper on your pants. This time, your eyes locked with Armin’s as your pants dropped on the floor next to your shirt.

“Those too, doll.” He ordered, referring to your underwear. His demanding tone went straight between your legs, which you rubbed together in an attempt for some friction. You quickly unclasped your bra and removed your underwear, but before you could do anything else, Armin extended his arm and pulled you closer to him. With his arms around your waist, his forehead came in contact with your lower stomach, taking in the sight before his eyes with a deep breath.

“On your knees.”

You did as he said and watched his hands, decorated with a few gold rings and a bracelet, unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Pushing his boxers down slightly, his member spurted out and hit his lower abdominals. Chuckling at your wide eyes, he led your hand to his cock.

“Consider this a thanks for your scholarship.” He leaned back on the chair, one hand behind his head and the other gripping your hair. You nodded and brought your mouth closer, licking on the tip that dripped with precum. As one of your hands massaged his balls and your mouth started taking more of his length in, a few groans escaped Armin’s lips and the grip on your hair tightened. But he had had enough. Both of his hands found your hair and pushed your head down, earning a gag at the sudden contact of his tip with your throat. You swore you could hear the smirk in his groans as your tongue worked around his length while he pushed your head up and down rapidly.

“Just like that...good...take it all.” You would be lying if you said his words didn’t make you rub your thighs together, desperate for something, anything to fulfill your need.

Before you could lead one of your hands between your legs, warm ropes of cum hit the back of your throat. Armin thrusted in your mouth a couple more times, milking his orgasm and overstimulating himself enough that a few more drops of the hot liquid joined your saliva. Removing himself with a squelch, he grazed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Good. Swallow like the whore you are.” You did as he said, your eyesight blurry and your head dizzy from the facefucking you just went through. Without wasting another minute, Armin got up, pulling you with him and leaving a rough, needy kiss on your swollen lips. With a knee spreading your legs and rubbing right at your core, he kissed down your neck and collarbones, allowing you to let out the most quiet moans.

“Look at you. At this rate, you’re gonna get off using my leg.” You could only respond with a hum as he tackled you on his bed, not wasting any time in taking his clothes off before getting on top of you. His hands roamed your curves and yours stayed around his neck, fidgeting with the gold chain around it. A sudden moan escaped your lips when two of Armin’s fingers scissored your slit open and entered with ease. His eyes fixated on your face; the way your lips trembled and your eyes rolled back with every pump of his slender fingers, oh how he wished he could spend every second of the day looking at you like this; so sweet, so vulnerable, almost too innocent, yet so perfect for him to ruin.

“Please, Armin...’m gonna-”

“Aww, too bad.” He removed his fingers and laughed at your disappointed face, which soon turned into a surprised one when he grabbed both your legs and placed them over his shoulders. You both let out a gasp when his pink tip entered your hole. Armin was not like anyone you’ve been with. He didn’t care about letting you adjust to his girth, thinking it was much more pleasurable to see you struggling not to make a sound.

“Armin...”

“Yeah, say my name, love.” He thrusted harder into your walls, hands gripping your hips to ground you in your spot. Another thrust from Armin and another moan from you, each time the thrusts getting quicker and your soft voice louder, not even beginning to think that there were people on the other side of the thin walls.

“Why so quiet, love? Do you not...like...the way I’m fucking you?” He said between quick thrusts, not giving you the time to make out a single word. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the knot tied low in your stomach was ready to come untied.

“Answer me.” He ordered, the grip on your hips now almost painful. You opened your eyes to see him leaning down, your legs now almost next to your head on the pillow. Armin hovered over you, now fucking your hole with more ease. You noticed he let out soft, needy whines every time your walls clenched around his cock, to which you grinned slightly. Bad choice.

“Do you think it’s funny? The way you let me fuck you so easily?” A hand now met your hair, pulling your head back into the pillow a bit.

“A-Armin!”

“That’s right. Say my name, whore.” He closed his eyes, taking in the sound of his name coming from your mouth. Your walls clenched around him as the knot finally came undone, and you were sure your juices were spilling on the sheets.

“Please...too sensitive...I can’t-” Your words came out in stutters, your legs closing involuntarily only for Armin to push them open again every time.

“Say my name.” He moaned out, thrusting inside your cunt now almost inhumanly fast.

“Armin!” Your second orgasm was on the way and your legs were starting to shake from the overstimulation. Armin didn’t fail to notice it and he wouldn’t lie if he said he wasn’t close as well, but he had learned to control himself. He couldn’t let it be over so soon. Not when he finally had you where he wanted you all along.

In the heat of the moment, it took you a few seconds to notice a stinging on your cheek, but when you did, you looked up at the blond, who was smirking down at you, hand still on your red cheek.

“Who’s fucking you? Huh?”

“You! You’re fucking me, Armin!”

“Louder.” He grunted, finally giving some attention to your nipples by slapping them teasingly.

“Armin! Armin! Fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Cum on my cock...fuck, ___.” Armin couldn’t take it anymore when your walls clenched around him once again as you orgasmed for the second time that night. Between moans and gasps and whispers of his name, you felt a wave of air hit your core and you realized Armin had pulled out.

He was now rubbing his swollen cock over your stomach, the other hand desperately massaging your breast. To help him, you led his hand to your other breast and took his cock in your own, thumb grazing over his red tip to make the beads of cum coat the rest of his length. Armin tilted his head back, not shy to moan loudly at the way your hand rubbed his length so...perfectly.

“Fuck, just like that. Just like that, love.” His legs shook slightly as his warm cum drew on your stomach and breasts, shooting almost up to your neck due to the overstimulation he went through. Exhausted and out of breath, Armin fell on the pillow next to you and planted a rough kiss on your lips.

“Let me take a picture of you. Don’t move.” Shocked, you couldn’t even blurt out a word at what he suggested, but something deep inside you made you nod in agreement. Maybe that tiny crush you had on Armin for one month on your first year finally decided to come out and play.

“Look at the camera, love. Now, smile. ” He ordered, getting on top of you with an old-fashioned polaroid in hand. He took one of your breasts in his big, soft hand and snapped a picture that he’d later pin over his bed, a reminder for himself and everyone that Armin Arlert always got what he wanted.

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Lmao I hope y’all liked this otherwise it’d be embarrassing. Anyway, requests are always open, leave some for me to do while I procrastinate! <3

[jimlingss]

I really enjoyed reading your fic fall in hatred with jin and liked the concept of a couple on the verge of a divorce. I thought I’d make a request for an angsty marriage/divorce au with another member like jk but it ends fluffy🥺

Whether you take this request or not, I wanted to say that you’re a great writer and I always love reading your stories 💜

↳ Honeymoon Horrors

3.7k || 55% Angst, 45% Fluff || Min Yoongi || Divorce!AU

It was great when it started.   Cloud nine had descended down and made its home above both your heads. You were practically floating, swooning, living a romance that Nicholas Sparks would’ve envied. You felt like you were on a permanent high as if weed and cocaine was permanently stuck in your system. You had reached enlightenment and you were permanently euphoric. How could you not be?   You had met your soulmate after all.   But as the years passed, it came tumbling down. Cloud nine started to rain. You swooned so hard that you struck your head against the edge of the kitchen counter. Instead of floating, you were getting dragged down to hell and the high you felt turned into a crash. Most importantly, you became enraged.   And you’re still mad now.   When you watch your wedding videos, all you can do is throw popcorn at the screen and scream at the grinning bitch that she’s making the worst mistake of her life.    Life’s full of plot twists, isn’t it?   And you can only chuckle at that realization now. Because what was meant to be the honeymoon you never had, a replacement honeymoon of sorts, is turning out to be a nightmare.   “Hey. Can you move?”   You rip off your headphones. “Excuse me?”   “You’re taking up all of the space.” Yoongi stares at you lazily. “This is supposed to be my armrest.”   “No. This is mine. That’s yours.”   “No. Yours is next to the window. This one is supposed to be mine. If you’re that uncomfortable, you should’ve just given me the window seat.”   You scoff and shove his arm off the armrest with your own. The half-offended, half-amused expression on Yoongi’s face is utterly stupid. It’s as if he’s judging you for being childish when he was the one who started this. You wish you could punch him square in the nose. “If you want me to move, then why don’t you move your legs? You’re taking up all the leg room!”   “You’re only out of space because you had to put your purse under the seat.”   “Where else am I supposed to put my purse?!”   “Do you see me carrying a purse?”   Suddenly, there’s a clearing of the throat. A female flight attendant is standing at the aisle and leaning over while wearing a perfectly, cordial smile. “Is there a problem over here?”   Your eyes narrow into the nosy bitch sitting across the aisle who probably tattled. You saw her looking in the corner of her eye from the very start.    “No. Not at all.”   Yoongi smiles easily. “We’re fine.”   There’s an urge to roll your eyes.    In all honesty, you underestimated Yoongi. While your divorce was well on its way and heading off like a bullet train, you had forgotten how petty he was. Exactly like you. Maybe that’s why for a period of time, you suited one another so well.   With the deposit already given on what was supposed to be the honeymoon extravaganza you never had and the plans already made long ago, you were set on going no matter what. Except he was also set on going. The asshole couldn’t give up and neither were you willing to give in.   So here you were. With your worst nemesis.    “Can you repeat that?”   “I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s no possible way we can get you two rooms.” The receptionist looks up from her computer screen. “You originally booked the presidential suite, correct?”   “Yes, but we changed it into two regular rooms a while ago,” Yoongi says. His brows are cinched together and he’s gripping onto the itinerary tightly.   The girl behind the front desk looks at her computer again and clicks twice but probably at nothing. “I’m so sorry. It looks like it didn’t register into our system. Is there anything else I can do for you?”   This is dreadful. As if things couldn’t get worse, they got much much worse.   “Great.” You haul in your luggage, no thanks to him. “This is just great.”   “Yeah, keep complaining,” Yoongi grumbles, “See how much that helps.”   “Shut up.”   On the top floor, the room is quiet and open. There’s a love seat in front of a flat screen television, a dining room and an open kitchen and bar. The large glass windows fully face the sandy, blue beach and allows light to pour into the enormous space. There are two chairs outside the private terrace and a jacuzzi too. But as beautiful as the place is, you feel bitter.    It should’ve been great.    It would’ve been great if you were alone.   And to make matters worse, it seems like the resort hadn’t gotten the news that your relationship with Yoongi was essentially decimated. Not when there was a scattered rose petal path leading up to the king-sized bed which also had two folded doves on it with the word ‘congratulations’ spelled out in more petals. There’s also a note: I hope you enjoy yourselves, Mr. and Mrs. Min. And neither of you miss the mountainous stack of condoms on the nightstand.   Yoongi’s pale. “Christ.”   The knock on the door breaks the thick tension.   Yoongi opens the door, and he immediately steps back as two enthusiastic employees enter while wheeling in a silver cart. “Aloha, welcome to Hawaii! Are you the newlyweds?”   “Umm…”    The two of you are well past that period. To be exact, you married nearly two years ago, but you don’t know how to break it to them. Yoongi’s never been good with words either.   “Enjoying your honeymoon, aren’t you? Congratulations!” The older man is excited as if he was the one who got married. “We bought you a bottle of our best champagne to celebrate and hope you have an everlasting marriage!”   The girl beside the man pops the cork and pours the champagne, and you realize it would be more painless to go along with it.   “Thanks,” you mumble, taking your flute of champagne and nearly downing the entire thing in one go. Yoongi holds his and raises a brow at you.   “We also have a red velvet cake.” He shows you on the busy cart. “And our freshest chocolate strawberries just made earlier by our finest chef. I think you’ll enjoy this chocolate as well.”   “Thank you.” Yoongi offers a faint smile. “This is really nice.”   “Of course, of course! Anything for our newlyweds!” There’s a small bowl of almonds next to the chocolates and two raw oysters served on a plate. It’s odd with the ensemble, but then the man leans closer as if revealing a secret and puts a hand by his mouth. “It is said almonds, chocolate and oysters are aphrodisiacs.”   You choke on your champagne, sputtering.   The girl grins. Yoongi’s wide-eyed.   He collects himself quicker than you do. “Thank you.”   Luckily the friendly, borderline-overbearing staff leave the both of you to it and you’re put out of your misery. For only a moment.   “Are you going to finish that bottle of champagne by yourself?” Yoongi asks across the room and you turn your head to see his cocked brow. Of course, he’s unpacking. The asshole doesn’t know how to relax and always has to make you look bad.   You scoff. “I’m about to open the red wine too.”   “Never thought I’d see you be reduced to a drunk so quickly.”   “Why can’t you just leave me alone? You’re always judging and nitpicking me.”   “I was making a comment.”   “Yeah and no one asked you to,” you mumble into the glass.   Yoongi eyes you. “You don’t have to get so upset, Y/N.”   “Are you serious?” Your posture straightens, legs lifted off the chair you propped them on and feet shifted onto the ground. “I was sitting here minding my own business. Why don’t you mind your own business.”   “I just thought you didn’t want to be sloppy when dinner hasn’t even started yet.”   “I know how to control my pacing.”   Yoongi snorts.   Your tongue rolls inside your cheek. “Excuse me?”   “What?”   “You look like you want to say something.”   “No. Not at all.”   You place the flute down onto the table. “Say it, Yoongi.”    “I thought you said I should mind my own business.”   “You’re such a condescending asshole, you know that?”   Yoongi stops folding his shirt and shuts the drawer. His expression is impassive and it irritates you more. “Pot meets kettle.”   “For someone who’s supposedly quiet, you fucking never know how to shut up.”   “Can’t you just calm down, Y/N? Unlike what you think, I’m not trying to get on your nerves. I’m trying to enjoy this trip.”   “Why are you acting like I’m the only one getting upset and that I’m the crazy one,” you spit, and he opens his mouth as if to say you are being crazy. But you don’t let him— “Don’t you dare say it. Fuck you, Yoongi. You don’t think I’m trying to enjoy this too? You think I wanted it to be like this?!”   “Maybe if you weren’t trying to pick a fight with me every goddamn second, you would have a good time, woman.”   “You’re the one who’s always trying to pick a fight with me!”   He sighs, body language dismissive to what you’re saying. “Stop being so upset—”   “Well too bad, I am upset! So just let me be!” You stand on your feet, teeth gritted and fist clenched. You’re practically screaming across the suite but there aren’t any close enough neighbours to complain. “You’re always telling me what I should and shouldn’t feel! This is exactly why we’re getting a divorce!”   With the last word said, you stomp away and the bathroom door slams shut. It’s the only place you can be alone, but even then, the four walls are frosted glass.   …   You’re not sure who brought up divorce first. It’s not like it matters. But one thing you do know is that it came up in an argument. A jab where someone’s sole intention was to hurt. And the other person stubbornly retaliated with ‘fine, have it your way’.   You remember calling your lawyer and him calling his. The process continued and continued and as it did, so did your arguments as the two of you realized no one was going to stop it. It became more painful the more time that went on. Clearly, it meant he was serious about it. Clearly, he didn’t care if he was happy to sign divorce papers. So you made yourself not care too.   And it continued to snowball like that.   Before you knew it, you were telling your families that the divorce was happening, much to their distress. Before you knew it, here you were.   By the time you get out of the bathroom, Yoongi’s gone.   He probably left for some peace and quiet. After all, it’s volatile when you’re together. It’s not like you want it to be that way, it just became that way. What sucks the most is that you know he’s right. You’re part to blame for the recent argument. You got too worked up unnecessarily. You’re constantly on the defensive as if he’s out to attack you. And once it’s quiet, you hate that you shouted.   But he has his own part to blame too. Yoongi knows how to get under your skin. He knew he was egging you on and he didn’t stop. So it escalated and escalated.   You end up wandering the resort by yourself. You enjoy the sunset on the beach and when the dinner buffet is open, you sit alone with your plate, staring out into the empty abyss of the ocean shrouded in darkness. All around you, there are families and lovers, jovial music that’s inviting.   Yet you feel isolated in the crowd.   You try to move around, preoccupy yourself.    But the last thing you expect is to see Yoongi. Across the bar. With a pretty, young girl on his arm. A sun-kissed blonde, to be specific. Wearing a crop top with booty shorts.    Yoongi’s nursing a whisky on the rocks, his usual drink, as she grasps onto his bicep. The swell of her breasts are practically pushed onto him. She says something and he smiles.   At the same time, something boils in the pit of your stomach. It’s pure, unadulterated rage.   Before you know it, you’ve turned on your heel and beelined to the hotel lobby bar. You call yourself hard liquor and down the drink as you seethe. The image of him and that Barbie doll is seared into your mind, flashing beneath your eyelids each time you blink.   The liquid burns and tears pool into your eyes, but you hold them back.   The bar is busy, filled of guests constantly ordering, so no one notices that you keep downing bitter drinks until there’s a tap on your shoulder—   “Aloha.” A concerned employee looms over you. “Is everything alright?”   That’s when you realize you’ve been drinking by yourself for three full hours. The table’s crowded with glasses and the ones on the edge are a centimeter away from falling over.   You end up waving him away and stumbling back to the room.   The world is teetering and you try to lean onto the wall for balance. It’s a miracle that you pressed the right number on the elevator when everything was swirling together. Or at least, you’re pretty sure this is the right floor.   You pound on the door. “Yoongiiiiii! Yoongiii! Open up!”   When there’s no response, you mutter ‘asshole’. Then your eye peels open and you realize you’ve been knocking against the door of the ice and vending machine room. You turn on your heel and careen to the next door.   “Yooongiiii!” you whine his name in exasperation, cheek pressed against the smooth surface.   You only have to call out twice before the door’s suddenly swinging open and you’re falling into the arms of your (soon-to-be ex-) husband. “‘Bout time. Was waiting foreverrr!”   “Fuck.” Yoongi’s nose scrunches at the smell of alcohol and he grabs a hold of your shoulders, pulling you away from him, nose scrunched at your smell. He keeps you at a safe distance as if you were nervous middle-schoolers at your first dance. You hate it. Why can’t he just hug you? “God, how much did you drink, Y/N?”   “Dunno. Lost my key card.”   “What?”   The door swings shut.   “Are you banging a chick in our room?” you slur, trying to keep your eyes open to look at him. He was already changed into his soft pajamas, a blue checkered print that made him look so much cuter. It’s unfair. “Am I interrupting?”   His brows cinch together, lips turning down. Yoongi’s visibly confused. “Ban—”   “Saw you talkin’ to that pretty girl at the bar,” you huff, wobbling back and forth.   He’s dumbfounded. “Who?”   “Don’t play stupid!” You poke his chest with your finger. “That lil girl who looks like a model!”   Yoongi winces at the volume of your voice and you add in frustration, “I’ll leave if you are, so just tell me already.”   “No, I’m not sleeping with anyone, Y/N.” Yoongi fixes his arm around your waist to keep you balanced and he sighs, reaching down to help you take off your shoes. “So much for knowing how to pace yourself, Y/N,” he mumbles with a faint smile on his lips instead of the annoyance you’re used to.   Yoongi loops your arm around his neck and begins to guide you towards the bed. But you stop, making your legs deadweight and you turn to him, staring into his eyes so deep, it’s like you’re looking into his soul. It’s pretty.   “What?” he asks, almost uncomfortable by your intense gawking.    “Do you not love me anymore?”   “What?”   “Just tell me, goddammit. Do you have no feelings towards me no more?” You pound your chest with your free hand. Yoongi plops you onto the love seat when he sees that you have no plans of making it to the bed. “Did everything mean nothin’ to you?”   He remains silent.   You angrily shout— “Answer me!”   Yoongi flinches. “God, Y/N. You don’t need to scream, I’m right next to you.” He sighs and drags a hand over his face. “If it meant nothing to me, do you think I’d be taking care of you right now? Now sit here and wait.”   With his dictatorial command wielded with his low voice, you pout but obey.    Yoongi returns a minute later with your pajamas in one hand and a cool glass of water in the other. “Drink this. And all of it.”   You nurse the glass of water with two hands and get a sip in. But your pout persists and before you know it, you’re bursting into tears. Yoongi all but freezes.   “’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t wanna fight.”   “Y/N.”   “I don’t mean to be so mad! I’m sorry.”   Yoongi kneels in front of you with a long sigh. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he coaxes and tugs the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the beads of teardrops trekking down your cheeks. “I know you didn’t mean it.”   “Really?”   “Yes. If anything….I’m sorry too,” Yoongi mumbles solemnly and before you can react, he’s already moved on. “Now drink your water.”   You cry into your glass, but you down the entire thing like he said and your crying stops by the end.   “Arms up,” Yoongi commands and you listen to him. He peels off your shirt in one single swoop and tosses it aside. He helps you put on your pajama top without blinking an eye and pulls the hem of your leggings to replace those as well. Yoongi even takes a damp washcloth to wipe your face and you watch him the entire time. His lashes are long, and Yoongi’s so nice and reliable. “Let's get you to bed, alright?”   You nod, and he guides you to it, having cleared the rose petals earlier. “So you didn’t sleep with her?”   “No.”   “Why not? She was hot!”   “I wasn’t interested.”   “Really?”   “Really,” Yoongi assures as he sets you to sit on the edge of the mattress. He moves to pull the sheets and struggles with how tucked in they are. In the meanwhile, you get the greatest idea you’ve ever had—   “Then fuck me instead before you fuck her.”   “What?”   Yoongi’s entire body goes rigid and he whips his head towards you with eyes that nearly bulge out of their sockets. You pout at him. “I wanna suck your dick and feel it in me, Yoongi. I miss it. When we used to have sex. It was so good.”   “Oh, you are so drunk.” He chuckles, a sound that sounds so nice you wish you can hear it forever and ever. “You’re going to be so embarrassed when you wake up tomorrow, Y/N.”   Yoongi pulls the sheet and is about to get you tucked in. But you steal the opportunity when he gets close and you loop your arms around his neck. “No, I’m not.” Your voice drops into a whisper. “Remember when you used to spit in my mouth? And you liked it sooo much.” You giggle when you notice his ears becoming hot and red. “You still like it now, don’t you, you nasty freak!”   You smack him on the shoulder in the midst of your bubbling laughter and he winces.    “Ow!”   “Imagine if I got pregnant from it too!” you add in your hysterics.   “Let’s not.”   “I always thought our kids would be so cute. Especially if they got your cheeks.” You reach and tug on Yoongi’s cheeks while giggling. He lets you have your fun, staying still and letting you squish his face together. And in your drunken state, you don’t realize how tender his eyes become.   “We’re getting a divorce, Y/N.”   You frown. “Why on earth would we do that?”   “Because,” he murmurs.   “Let’s not,” you slur. “Can’t we cancel it?”   It goes quiet with Yoongi gazing into your eyes. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”   “Yeah.” You grow sheepish. “Aren’t you supposed to get a divorce if you hate each other?”   “That’s how it works generally.” Yoongi stands and gently presses on your shoulder to lay you down. The pillows feel soft underneath your head and he starts to tug the covers up to your chin.   “But I don’t hate you. I care a loooooot about you.” You sulk. “Otherwise, why’d I get jealous when I saw you at the bar?”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “So you’re admitting you were jealous?”   “Wouldn’t you get jealous if you saw me with someone else?”   Yoongi thinks about it. “Maybe.”   “Maybe?”   He finally admits, “Yeah, I’d be pretty pissed.”   You hum contently, lids becoming uncontrollably heavier. You want to stay up. It’s so much fun talking to Yoongi. It feels like forever since you talked to him like this. But you’re so tired. And comfortable. You want him to cuddle and spoon you to sleep. Yoongi cuddles are the best.   “Yooongiiii.”   You call out to him with your eyes closed.   “Yeah?”   “I think—” You go dead quiet and after three seconds, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then your mouth moves again. “—I loooove you.” A beat later, your two arms suddenly raises up into the air. Hands measuring about a ruler stick length. “This much.”   He snorts and turns off the lamp. “Go to sleep, Y/N.”   …   When you wake up the next morning, your head is absolutely pounding.   For the first time, you detest how much light the damn room lets in. You also curse aging and having to suffer hangovers when five years ago, you were perfectly unscathed the next day after drinking.   Luckily, there’s advil on the bedside with a tall glass of water and you down the entire thing after taking a pill. You’re not so sure where these came from, but your answer is across the room.   Yoongi, realizing you’re awake, has an amused smile on his face and his brow cocked. More importantly, his eyes have somehow softened.   You groan, remembering last night. Every detail. Every word. Like a film that could be played back. It’s mortifying and even without your obvious reaction, Yoongi’s been with you long enough to know how superb your memory is even after being wasted. He knows you know.   And the worst part?    You meant it all.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story pt 26 - The Higher Realm

The Higher realm continues. So close to the end!

Master post linked here

Enjoy!

______________________________

Time passed, but it was difficult to tell how much. Time worked so differently in the different realms. How long did we really spend trying to save one lower realm? Minutes? Decades? It felt like no time and forever. Adonis and I traveled to lower realm after lower realm, fixing the stories, stabilizing the world before heading back to the higher realm.

Some lower realms were easy, if a bit annoying, such as the high school dramas. In those I would often play the “average” new girl at a school. I would meet new people, and was supposed to go on to have romance, betrayals and coming of age realizations. I quickly realized that befriending all my supposed romantic leads instead of dating them, reconciling with my rivals instead of humiliating them, and pushing towards success all together was a much more satisfying strategy. Fortunately, graduating valedictorian with a happy and psychologically healthy group of teenagers often stabilized worlds that had been torn apart by half-baked character design or infighting between rivals.

I took calculus so many times that I could recite lessons in my sleep, but at least the worlds were saved. Despite our success, however, Adonis was often frustrated. He had his own vision of how we were to save these realms. His plans almost always involved us dating, making the high school romance “successful”.

I refused.

He had been a lot more likable since our first meeting, and I was able to consider him a close friend and ally… but I felt uncomfortable at the idea of even pretending to have a romantic relationship. It was definitely a more difficult route to stabilize the world without a romance, but I chose it every time. Adonis pouted and complained, but couldn’t argue with success, and I was successful.

Some lower realms were more difficult. In particular, zombie apocalypse stories were my least favorites. The worlds often couldn’t be stabilized until a cure was found or humanity’s survival was assured. This meant that Adonis and I sometimes spent decades within these realms, working to build armies, or teams of scientists. There was hardly ever any running water, which meant showering was few and far between.

My unwashed self was made even filthier by my absolute failure at using anything with range. Bow and arrow, guns… anything that would keep me out of the gore, I couldn’t hit even the largest of monsters. Fortunately I picked up a sword with relative ease, which allowed me to fight… but this also meant I got covered in rotten blood and guts.

I hated zombie worlds the most.

Realm after realm. We worked constantly, spending very little time in between in the higher realms. Adonis would often try to use those moments to push his ideas regarding fate and the higher realm’s story, but as soon as I rejected him, which I did every time, he would simply scowl and pull us into the next lower realm to save.

It was getting old.

“How many lower realms are there?” I asked one evening as we recovered from our latest mission, rubbing my sore shoulder where I had taken a blow in the last sci-fi alien battle. The wounds disappeared with the realm traveling, but my mind still could feel the wound, projecting the pain long after I had left that form behind.

Adonis leaned back in his chair, his grin a little too bitter to be a natural expression. “How many unfinished stories are there? Infinite, Bel. There are infinite lower realms. We will never be able to save them all. Not like this.”

“It’s not like there’s a lot of options.”

“There are options. You just don’t want to hear them.”

“What, this fate you keep talking about?” I sighed, closing my eyes, tired. “ It sounds like a terrible idea.”

“It’s not.” His voice was quiet, but the intensity shown through all the same. “It’s our duty. Everyone’s survival depends on it.”

“But what you’re saying is: we follow along some sort of script…”

“Fate.”

“…fate… here, in the higher realm. And that is somehow supposed to fix the lower realms?”

He chuckled. “You’re oversimplifying it, but pretty much. We follow our fate, and the heroes of the lower realms will find their happiness tied to ours.”

“What if they don’t want that ending? What if they don’t want that happiness?”

“Of course they do! Everyone wants a happily ever after with their destined one.” He snapped. My eyes flickered open to study his enraged expression.

“I don’t.”

“You’re selfish!”

I shrugged. “Am I? If you’re right, we submit to fate here, everyone in the lower realms gets an automatic happy ending… but most of those worlds aren’t breaking because they don’t have a happy ending. They need a wider world, different ideas… and what about the side characters, even the villains… what about their happiness?”

“They don’t matter.”

“Why not?” I raised an eyebrow. “Just because they’re the villains?”

“They’re evil.” He stood up, trying to tower over me. An intimidation tactic, one that might have worked before we’d spent countless years fighting in life-or-death battles together.

“Have you met the heroes and heroines of some of these realms?” I laughed. “They’re not much better. I don’t think these roles are as clear as you would like them to be. And I don’t think you and I having a happy ending together, and forcing a simplistic ‘and they lived happily ever after’ on all the lower realms will actually fix them. In fact…” I stood up, and he stepped back slightly at the danger in my tone. “I bet we would break them all the more. Are you really so foolish as to think that saving a universe of worlds would be so simple?”

“…” Adonis was gritting his teeth, his hands clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. But I didn’t back down. Didn’t step back. I knew he wouldn’t hit me. He wouldn’t dare step out of the role he imagined himself to be in. Wouldn’t dare cross a line that might ruin his chances at the happy ending he seemed to crave so desperately.

“…” The silence stretched on between us. We were at an impasse. He wanted to follow fate. He wanted clearly defined roles and rules to follow. And I?

I wanted freedom.

*** Soul transfer 11% complete. ***

It’s been forever since I last saw those words… I thought it had disappeared. For some reason, I felt a deep sense of relief at the glowing blue sentence. Something within me had frozen during these many trips to the lower realms, but finally it was growing again.

“The next world is waiting.” Adonis spoke up, his tone flat. I noticed an odd shifting of his gaze, a reluctance to meet my own, and felt a sense of unease.

I won’t like this next world. I cracked my knuckles and gave him a thumbs up. Well, no sense running from a challenge.

We left.

______________________________

I woke up in a luxurious canopy bed. Staring up at the fabric , I raised my arms and have a cheer.

“YES! NOT A ZOMBIE WORLD!”

On the downside, the setting appeared to be a more primitive era, medieval at best, which meant no running water, but at least I appeared to be noble or wealthy.

At least if I suffer, I’ll be clean while I do it!

“Princess?” A young woman dressed as a servant entered the room, seeming very confused. “Are you all right? I heard you yelling.”

I smiled brightly at her. “No worries. It was just a nightmare.”

She visibly relaxed. “Even so, you seem in a much better mood, if I may say so.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you haven’t broken a single thing this morning.” She, unfortunately did not seem to be kidding. “I’m so glad you’ve accepted your father’s decision.

I didn’t have my character’s memories yet. I needed to accept the mission first. In the meantime, acting too out of character could destabilize an already poorly functional world.

“I’m still… thinking it over.” I spoke up cautiously.

“It’s not so bad, your highness.” She smiled at me. “Most young girls feel a little uneasy when their father arranges their husband. But you’ll be happy. I just know it.”

Arranged marriage?

“After all, Prince Harold is reported to be a true gentleman, a might warrior, and a handsome young man!” She sighed dreamily. “Any woman would be thrilled for a chance to be his bride.”

“I’m. Sure.” I spoke through gritted teeth, the satin sheets crumpling in my grip. Adonis, when I find you, I’m going to make you regret every life decision you’ve ever made… and the ones you’ve only considered making. What kind of lower realm did you land us in? As I plotted my revenge, the mission screen popped up.

**** NEW WORLD: A Divided Kingdom****

This is a romance fantasy story featuring a prince and a princess from different kingdoms, putting aside their differences to save the world.

“I already don’t like this.” I muttered.

The Princess Alaire of the Yenlar Kingdom was a clever, independent woman, horrified at the idea of an arranged marriage. Prince Harold of the Bestion Kingdom felt differently. He fell in love at first sight and vowed to woo the young maiden. The couple was different in almost every way, and seemed destined to bicker and fight.

“Then how about we don’t get married?”

But fate had other plans…

“Of course it did!”

A terrifying beast threatened to destroy both their kingdoms, and to survive, the political marriage had to go forward. Uniting the kingdoms, and therefore their armed forces, was the only way to save their people.

However, despite the happy ending, the first book was not well received by readers and the trilogy was abandoned due to poor sales. The reason given was that the romance was “forced” and unbelievable.

Your mission is to bring a satisfying end to the story, while making ensuring the survival of both kingdoms.

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION? ****

YES? NO?

“Quick question.” I spoke quietly to the glowing words in front of me. “Do I have to marry the prince to ensure an ending?”

The kingdoms will not unite without the political marriage.

“That wasn’t what I asked. I asked if I HAVE to marry the prince. What if I can save both kingdoms without a political marriage?”

The stability of the world is all that matters.

“No lecture on the necessity of fate?”

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION? ****

YES? NO?

I grinned. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

As the words faded away, I jumped out of bed. My head spun slightly as I accepted the memories from the poor princess of the original story.

She had not been happy.

She had dreams, ambitions. The Kingdom of Yenlar allowed for women to inherit the throne, and as the firstborn she was ready to take over from her father, to rule her nation. She had spent her entire life preparing. Studying law, economics, warfare…

And all of it had meant nothing in the end.

She had begged for a political treaty. One that did not involve marriage. The Kingdom of Bestion had refused to even discuss it. They stated that there was too much distrust between the kingdoms to move forward without some sort of permanent assurance. Even the threat of annihilation from the ancient beast of legend wasn’t enough to have them reconsider. That wasn’t the full story, though.

Later she discovered that Prince Harold had seen her at a party. He had supposedly fallen in love with her at first sight, and became determined to marry her. He had learned of her plans to marry a minor noble, one who would support her position on the throne without causing an imbalance of power within the nobility. He had no chance, as far as she was concerned. The threatened destruction of their people was just the perfect opportunity to force the matter.

She had lost all power. Becoming a figurehead, a beautiful statue beside the true king, Harold. He ruled over both nations with an iron fist, treating her own people more harshly, much to the approval of his staff. She slowly became bitter and deranged, watching the destruction of the people and the nation she loved so dearly.

Beyond the end of the first book, when the realm’s story ended, she had attempted to poison him and failed. Harold had been disappointed, but felt that she still had use as a figurehead. They faked a stroke, and kept her mute and weak with poisons. A lovely doll. A perfect figurehead.

…is this a fantasy or a horror? Sheesh, no wonder the trilogy wasn’t going to sell. I shuddered, still standing awkwardly next to the beautiful bed that had belonged to a lovely young woman.

I will change this story. I spoke silently to the memories, feeling a sense of relief that didn’t belong to me as I did so.

First, let’s try to reason with Adonis. He and I had worked together in multiple realms, side by side. We were friends. We may not see eye to eye when it came to our approach towards fate and the lower realms, but he had never forced me to do something I didn’t want. He had always respected me and backed off when I said no, even if it made him unhappy.

Hopefully this time will be the same. I thought uneasily. Hopefully he will listen.

______________________________

“No.” His tone was gleeful, but his face was calm, towing with a silver goblet rather than meeting my gaze.

“Are you joking?” I leaned forward, keeping a gentle smile on my face to fool the guards and our fathers who sat on the other end of the enormous dining table.

“I’m perfectly serious, Princess Alaire. Our kingdoms face certain doom at the hands of the ancient beast. The only way to survive is to work together. We can only work together if we trust each other. The only way the Kingdom of Bestion will trust the Kingdom of Yenlar is with a marriage alliance. It’s out of my hands.”

I reached forward and took the cup from his hands, forcing him to look at me. “Why are you forcing this, Adonis? You know it didn’t work out so well for the originals.”

“Careful Princess.” His eyes glanced over at the nearby guards. “You don’t want anything to destabilize the situation further, now do you? Better to act as a proper princess should.”

“Answer the question. This plan already failed. Why do you think it will work?”

“Simple.” He leaned forward and plucked the goblet back from my hands. “We’re different. You may not want to admit it, but we have spent lifetimes at each other’s side. Growing up, going to school, facing enemies, fighting together… we could make this work. It would be a wonderful ending.”

“You know what happened to Alaire after the first book.”

“I would never do that to you.”

“But you are.” I growled, wishing I could punch him. “You are trying to make me a beautiful figurehead, just like Harold did to Alaira.”

“We would rule side by side.”

“What use is that promise, if you are already ignoring my wishes and forcing me to do this in the first place?”

He shook his head. “You have to trust me. This is the only way we can defeat the monster, and stabilize this realm. We’ll save this world. Together.” He smiled. “It’s our fate.”

I threw a plate at him, forcing him to fling himself on the floor to avoid injury. Walking out, I ignored my father’s shouts of rage. Picking up a bag I had packed ahead of time, just in case, I changed into some light armor, grabbed a sword, and headed out into the forest.

If I couldn’t win by a political alliance, I was going to find another way to save the world.

I was going monster hunting.

I searched Princess Alaira’s memories of the legends and stories, going out in a northern direction towards the area known as Death Valley.

As I marched onward, my thoughts wandered over the time I had spent since I had woken up in the Higher Realm. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed with Adonis. He might truly think that he was saving the world by insisting on going through with the marriage, but his lack of willingness to even consider other options was frustrating. He was the only person consistently by my side through every one of these worlds, someone I considered a friend, and being unable to rely on him served to make me feel all the lonelier.

My mind briefly touched on the assassin of the first realm, Liam. I had thought with his comments and actions that he had known about my mission… that he might be from the higher realm too. But no matter how much I looked for him, no matter how much I hoped to see him again, I never did.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was someone from the lower realm, and I’ll never have the chance to see him, to thank him.

I felt a sense of despair. How long can I keep doing this? Is this why Adonis preaches following our fate so much? Is he as tired of traveling, tired of the missions and the different lives? Is he just hoping to end all this?

I sighed, keeping moving. I’m not that tired, not tired enough to sacrifice my freedom. Not yet, anyways.

It took several days of traveling. Fortunately from my years of experience in zombie worlds, I was well prepared to survival in the wilderness. At least here the rivers were clean, allowing me to bathe occasionally. Finally I was at the entrance of the valley, staring up at the pillars on either side.

There were ominous words carved deeply into the stone.

Only death lies ahead.

I stared at the words silently for a few moments, and then shrugged.

“Still better than marrying Adonis.”

I moved forward.

______________________________

The valley was dark, a deep fog settled in permanently, apparently unaffected by the weather beyond its borders. Dark twisted purple trees rose all around me, their roots tearing through the earth desperate searching for nutrients. The valley was quiet, suffocating in an unsettling silence. My presence there felt like an intrusion, my instincts screaming at me to run away, to escape.

I kept moving.

There were no other signs of life. But I knew at least one other being lived here, the reason why nothing else dared to.

The Ancient beast.

There were no descriptions of it in the legends. Just that it was deadly, enough to take on entire armies. And that it was terrifying.

I feel like I should have seen something by now, if it was so large. I sighed, sitting on one of the trees, staring up at the mountain ahead of me. Shouldn’t it be easier to find an enormous beast that terrified an entire world?

…

Wait.

I looked up, struggling to see the top of the mountain in front of me.

I’m in a valley…

The mountain moved up and down, with regular motions.

There shouldn’t be a mountain here.

It was breathing.

I drew my sword, inwardly despairing. I had underestimated the sheer scale of the monster. I had thought it would be the size of a house, an elephant. Instead it towered stories above me, unimaginably large.

I was doomed.

There was a rumble as the beast in front of me shifted. I couldn’t tell the shape, just an impression of scales and spikes. Slowly, something lowered down in front of me, stretching forward in all directions, filling my vision. I saw teeth larger than my own body, the white of them contrasting with the dark fog around us. As I prepared myself for my death, an eye opened to stare at me.

It was a beautiful dark blue.

“…”

Suddenly, I felt relief. It was incomprehensible. I was standing in front of an ancient beast, enormous and terrifying, and instead of fear and dread… I felt safe.

I raised a hand, almost despite myself. “Hello there.”

The eye blinked. I comforted myself that it hadn’t eaten me yet.

“I think you look awesome. I’m Princess Alaira from the nearby kingdom of Yenlar. I actually came here to kill you, to protect my people… but now I realize that you could crush me like an ant, and that was a bad plan.”

The eye blinked twice. It seemed more confused than anything.

“I have a much better plan, if you would be willing to listen to me.” I let out a laugh, slightly startled at how… villainous it sounded.

*** Soul transfer 20% complete. ***

The creature let out a sound like thunder. I felt that it was laughing too.

______________________________

The wedding was this morning.

I was surprised as I drew near to see the party going. You would think that after I disappeared, they might have canceled or delayed it. I assumed that Adonis had felt sure that I would agree with him in the end. That I wouldn’t be able to let the world end just because I didn’t want to marry him.

Well too bad, buddy. This princess has a different plan in mind!

I could see him, standing on the elevated stage before two thrones, waiting. I couldn’t see his expression from this distance, but I imagine he was barely hiding his worry. Alaire’s father and Harold’s father were also waiting on the platform, their postures betraying their impatience.

“Let’s get this party started!” I yelled.

ROOOOOOOAAAAAAR!

The ancient beast let out a triumphant roar as he flew closer and lowered his head, letting me jump down onto the platform before landing behind me, a large, threatening mountain of a creature.

“Alaire?” The king called out, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Hello, Father.” I also nodded to Adonis, who stared back.

“What is this?”

“Your daughter is a witch!” The King of Bestion shouted, drawing his ceremonial sword. “She betrayed us!”

“Hold on, father.” Adonis held out his hand, stopping his attack. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

I grinned.

“Nope. It’s exactly what it looks like. I’ve teamed up with the Ancient being. We’re friends now.” I gestured at the monster high above us, who let out a grim chuckle, shaking the ground. “So now I make the rules, got it?”

“…”

“I’ll take everyone’s stunned silence as happy agreement! Now, first rule: Wedding canceled.”

“What?”

“What?”

“You can’t do this!”

The three other royals on stage shouted simultaneously. I simply pointed again at the enormous creature.

“I can do whatever I want. The big scary monster behind me says so. Next, the kingdom of Bestion will surrender to me, as will the kingdom of Yenlar.”

“You want to rule the world?” Adonis’s gaze was… disappointed. I grinned shamelessly. “Nope. But here’s the thing: Our kingdoms face certain doom at the hands of the ancient beast. The only way to survive is to convince the monster not to kill us. The monster only trusts me. So I have to rule both kingdoms.” I shrugged. “It’s out of my hands.”

I threw his words from earlier back at him, and felt satisfied as he winced in recognition.

“We… surrender.” His words were quiet, defeated.

“You unruly child!” My father tried to shout, but a roar from the monster above us silenced him. He quickly surrendered too. I accepted both surrenders, quickly organizing the meetings to bring our governments together under one rule. Fortunately, the princess’s years of study served me well, guiding me smoothly through the process.

______________________________

I had one more confrontation with Adonis, the night before the coronation. He was escorted to my rooms by guards, saying he had a request. I hesitated briefly, but allowed him in, waving the guards behind the door so we could speak freely.

“What was that?” He shouted as soon as they had left.

I stayed sitting, forcing myself to be calm. “I fixed the story.”

“You ruined everything! Even if it stabilizes this world, it will ruin it in the long run.”

“Says you.”

“Trust me.” He threw up his hands as he paced back and forth. “Everything will go a lot smoother if you STOP CHANGING THE STORY.”

“I thought that was why we were here, though?” I sighed, leaning back in my chair and cleaning my nails with a blade. “To fix the lower realms, to save these worlds? That requires change, right?”

He paused in his movements, glaring at me. “Stop acting stupid. These worlds are broken because they didn’t follow the rules. We have to follow them perfectly.”

“I don’t want to though.” I shuddered. “No offense, but if the story is going to require us to have a romantic relationship, I’m finding an alternate solution.”

“That’s what the story requires, you have your role to play. You know the consequences of not playing the right part.”

I sighed. “No, there’s always different paths to take. You’re a good friend, and I’m glad to have you by my side, but that’s different than love.”

“…”

“You clearly don’t love me either, so why are you making such a fuss about this? As long as we complete what we came here to do, that’s all that matters, right?”

“…”

“Right?”

Adonis stepped closer to me, his atmosphere slightly threatening. “Why are you so different from what you are supposed to be?”

“What are you…?”

“Why can’t you just accept.”

His hand grabbed my wrist, the grip painful.

“your.”

He pulled me closer until our faces were inches apart. His bright blue eyes were blazing with anger as they stared into my own.

“fate.”

Letting me go, he walked away, putting some distance between us, before turning back to face me.

“This lower realm is stabilized. We should return.” His smile was cold. “The next mission is a little different from our previous ones. We’ll talk about it later.”

“…”

“And next time…?” He laughed, a bitter sound. “You’ll play your part whether you want to or not.”

THUD.

The blade in my hand threw through the air, stabbing into the wall inches from his face. I smiled cheerfully as he looked back at me, shocked.

“Try touching me again, and I’ll cut off something you’ll miss. We’ll discuss missions and roles again in the higher realm, but for now?” I rang a bell and guards came in, escorting him out. “I have a coronation to plan.”

______________________________

My coronation was held outside so that the Ancient beast could stand behind me. It seemed cheerful, letting out victorious roars and swaying from side to side. The people cheered as well, seeming a lot happier than I expected them to be. I guess they’re relieved that they won’t be eaten by the giant monster? I wondered idly how I was going to incorporate the creature into the day to day life of a monarch. For an odd reason I had very little doubt that the monster would stick around.

However, all my plans came to nothing. As the crown was placed on my head, bright blue words formed in the air in front of me:

100% complete.

**** You have finished the mission! ****

It was time to go.

At little sad, I looked up at the ancient monster above me. “Thank you, friend for your help. I wish I could stay with you longer.”

A mournful cry echoed through the world. It seemed to understand that I was leaving. Before I could say anything more to reassure it, the world around me shimmered and disappeared.

Only to reveal a furious Adonis standing in front of me.

“Happy now, Your Majesty?” He sneered.

“Oof, someone’s still a little angry that I used an ancient monster conquer the world. Believe it or not, I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. But you know why I did what I did. Let’s talk about it in the morning.”

I walked away, feeling his glare on my back long after I was out of sight.

______________________________

When I woke up, I realized that I couldn't move.

I panicked, struggling to move my arms and legs, only managing to turn my head slightly. Enough to see Adonis’s smug expression as he sat by my bed.

“It’s time for our story to progress, Bel.” His smile was strange, twisted. I couldn’t talk back, I shook my head slightly side to side.

“I’m the hero, you are the heroine. If the relationship between us can’t be advanced by working together, than it must be forged in adversity." He reached down and picked me up, carrying me out of the small cottage I had arranged for myself and into the castle courtyard. Whatever drug he had injected me with was slowly wearing off, and I struggled in his arms, finally able to shout.

“Put me down!”

To my surprise he did, and although I struggled to stay upright, I kept my balance and glared at him.

“What are you planning?”

He sighed quietly. “I’m tired of always being the one to compromise. It’s time for you to make a sacrifice, Bel. I’ve avoided this so far, worried that progressing our story this way would kill you, but it seems that it is our fate that we take this risk. It’s… unfortunate. I do very much hope you don’t die.” He paused, trying to smile at me. “Don’t worry. It’s only temporary. I’ll come and rescue you soon.”

“A sacrifice?” I felt cold, even as I stood in the warm afternoon sun. My thoughts were slow to form, possibly a side effect of the medication. “Why?”

He shrugged. “There’s an order to everything. Rules. Law. They are all that stand between us and pure chaos. No one can ignore them. Not you. Not even me.”

“Then sacrifice yourself, asshole! Why send me?”

He shrugged. “It’s your role to play, not mine. Your fate.”

“Screw fate! I don’t care if you say it’s temporary or not! Friends don’t sacrifice friends!” I was furious, still weak and feeling helpless.

His hand reached out and brushed my cheek, the touch freezing my skin. I wanted to move away but I could still barely move, only managing to glare at him. “Don’t look at me with those eyes. It’s not my fault. If you want to blame anyone, blame the story.”

“Ad…”

“Sorry, you must accept your fate.” I felt a pinch in my arm, the stick of a needle as he injected something into the muscle. Immediately darkness overwhelmed me.

“We all do.”

Everything faded into darkness.

______________________________

When I woke up, I was in a strange world, surrounded by forest. I lay on my back, still feeling weak, fury coursing through my veins.

Adonis and I had worked well together, despite arguing multiple times in the past. But now… any goodwill I had towards him was gone. He had betrayed me. Knocked me out and sent me to somewhere dangerous, somewhere I could be killed, just to follow his precious fate. To get the story he wanted.

“Are you lost?

I looked over at the source of the voice. It was a tall young man with dark hair, wearing grey, non-descript clothing. He kneeled down next to me, and I found myself staring into dark blue eyes.

“Seems a good description for my current situation.” I smiled despite the dizziness. “Nice to meet you, Stranger.”

He grinned, reaching out a hand to help me up. “Call me Liam.”

Liam? Could he be…?

“…Nice to meet you, Liam.” I laughed. “Or should I say: nice to see you again?”

*** Soul transfer 25% complete. ***

[percabethfeelsfandom]

How I’d rate the Gods/Goddesses(riordanverse)

This is my rating based off the way Rick Riordan portrayed them in the Riordanverse. The traditional myths have been taken into account but do not make up my entire opinion. 

Hestia:

10/10 would give my life for this goddess. In all aspects of the word, this goddess is a goddess. I want a novella of her watching over the hearth and watching out for her family and the heroes. I imagine her being a very comforting presence and warm like a hug, and maybe this is me projecting my mummy issues but I just want her to hug me. 

Dionysus:

A solid 7.35/10 for Mr D. Naturally he was a bit annoying, but we were never under the pretence that he he was meant to be anything more than what he provided and I respect that. Him caring about his kids at camp, and staying relatively loyal to his wife is always a plus. And I like his relatively humble beginnings being a hero and becoming a god and then not causing that much trouble in the series. Unlike some other pieces of shit. 

Hermes:

4/10. Mans had no right blaming Luke’s thirst for mass genocide on 16 year old Annabeth. Not cool man. Not cool. He gets the points he got because he did genuinely care about Maia, and Luke, but he lost the rest of them by having a blatant favourite (who literally caused so much destruction). However I do still like his line about family in sea of monsters and never giving up on them. Nice meaning. But he was still a shitty father and only intervened out of self interest most of the time. 

Aphrodite:

2/10. I hate how low I have to rank her. But my god did Rick do her dirty in his depiction. Just the misogyny, the lack of depth, and the untouched potential she has as a character, as a goddess, THE OLDEST GOD/GODDESS and Rick really made her throw rose petals around the battle fields on one of (what was meant to be) the biggest fights of the riordanverse. Absolute robbery. If I’m not mistaken as well, she was a huge contributor to the issues and obstacles percabeth went through and we do not Stan. HOWEVER, I love her as a goddess normally, and what she could represent if she’s written properly. 

Hephaestus:

8/10. I have no qualms with this man. I too prefer the company of inanimate objects to people and get stressed about social interaction. And I too have mummy issues. So me and Hephaestus are on the same page. Let this man tinker away in his little bunker. He never went out of his way to make things harder for demigods, and was helpful when they came to him for help which I can also respect. (Point deduction because it was on his land that Bianca died…if I’m not mistaken). 

Ares:

-12/10. This man was introduced as a bully, and gives off the vibes of every phobic, known to humanity. I do not vibe. I do not agree. I do not stan. ALSO his motorbike seat is apparently made from "Caucasian human skin”!!!!!!???? We as children never questioned this? We just went sure aight move on?! Please this man has the biggest small dick energy if I ever saw it and I despite him so much. Mans was also never helpful. Ever. I don’t think. I think Mars was better than him though so I’ll give him that. 

Artemis:

9.99/10 all hail queen of the lesbians. Mad respect to this woman. In what she stands for, who she protects and in her actions. She’s what I embody when I stand up for myself in fights and when I speak to have my voice heard. I like Rick’s depiction of her and I love seeing her and her hunters pop up in his books. Would love a couple books on the hunters and their adventures. Also I love archery. And I’m biased to the moon because I love the night so she gets extra points for all of that too. 

Apollo:

Prior to Trials of Apollo 7/10, after TOA 9.90/10. Yes it’s a big jump but my god did Lester grow on me. Prior to TOA he was pretty average. He was funny, always provided a good laugh to the plot and was always helping the demigods which I loved. But I know he’s an asshole full of himself so I can’t give him any higher than that until he had some character development, which we got in TOA (specifically after Burning Maze). And I really like who he is now and the type of character Rick shaped him out to be. In the myths he’s a big creep, and I still stand by that idea, hence why he doesn’t get a full 10. 

Athena:

3.5/10…ughhh I hate to say this. But part of it is the same reasoning I gave about Aphrodite. I just have so many issues with the way she’s portrayed and it’s not accurate to what I believe in my heart she should represent. And as a child of Athena, I feel like Rick then did her entire legacy dirty. She has her moments, but since I can’t even fully recall one right now, it just proves my point. As a goddess as a whole though, what she represents is everything I aspire to be in life. She’s my entire aesthetic of hard work, creativity, and strength and grit, without taking away of being a powerful female. Zeus’ lead strategist like shit, Rick could have done so much. But he did not. And I am thus sad about it. 

Demeter:

6/10. I have no issues with Demeter. Kinda boring. I think that’s what most of the fandom thinks as well. She just didn’t get enough screen time or development. I have no attachment to her. I think the powers that she has, and has passed on to her kids is cool though so there’s that. But in the series as well she doesn’t do much. She also (initially) doesn’t fight in the battle of Manhattan so maybe I’m slightly bitter there. But yeah, i’m indifferent. 

Hades:

8.99/10 Okay so hear me out I know this man gets so much bad rep in the myths and that’s part of why he doesn’t get a full 9. But I really really love the way he’s depicted in the riordanverse, especially with his entire arc with his kids/specially with Nico. Like literally one of my favourite quotes In the entire series is “my children are so rarely happy, I would like to see you be the exception.” Out of the gods listed here (and excluding Dionysus), he acts like a genuine parent to his kids and tries. And like there’s issues, sure, but he works on them. And since so much of the first series is about how the gods are neglectful, seeing him change and seeing him fight for Nico is my everything. 

Poseidon:

7.1/10. Honestly this feels too high considering mans was nearly If not just as bad as Zeus in keeping it in his dam pants. His points come from treating Sally like the queen she is, and trying with Percy (albeit too little too late but I can see the minimal effort). That being said, he’s really shitty in the myths so I can’t really give him anything higher than this. He’s barely a dad, and sees Percy more as an ally than an actual son or human being that needs attention. I like him more in Fanon and the way that I write him lmao because I humanise him. But I won’t lie he’s dilf material, and I still like rick’s depiction of him. 

Hera:

3/10 I’m surprising myself with this rating because tbh I might even push her to 4.5 just because she’s so consistent in her own goals and agenda, and that perseverance is very admirable even if it was at the cost of some of my favourite characters. She was very much two faced though and fucked around stuff that she should have stayed out of. Her hatred for literal children though is a bit problematic. I have no attachment to her but I admire how much she just wants a family. However she just really needs to assess how she approaches that since it’s a bit messed up.  

Zeus:

-5/10 I really don’t Zeus, his character, him in the myths, everything about him. He gives off the vibes of a man who abuses the power that he was given. And I don’t like that. It makes me uncomfortable and I don’t like him at all. His treatment of his children, of the demigods, and the way he governs Olympus. Not a fan. I could rule Olympus better and I’m a mentally unstable, serotonin deficient 20 year old with a hyper fixation on greek mythology and Minecraft. However despite not liking his character, I think Rick does a great job at depicting him accurately to how he was in the myths. 

[cosmicpines]

code july day 1 - future

au where jeremie's anti-xana program didn't work, taking place half a year after.

“Do’ya think we should start future-proofing our whole situation?” Odd was the first one to speak out loud in at least a half an hour, his voice echoing around the computer lab.

It was late. Not just “it’s a school night, we should turn off the Playstation” late, but “sunrise is in an hour” late. Ulrich, Jeremie, and Aelita were crowded on the couch – a fairly new addition to the lab that William and Odd had dragged over a mile to the factory after finding it on the street, a several-hour long affair that left them both sore for a week – blearily staring at chunky school-loaned laptop screens with piles of overdue library books on the floor in front of them. Odd and William were across the room, hunched over an oversized posterboard, surrounded by an accoutrement of Odd’s art supplies and printed out sheets of paper. What was keeping them up was potentially world-ending, but not in the usual way; instead of an evil AI, it was a history project due at 10 AM.

It wasn’t entirely their fault they didn’t start earlier – saving the world was a full-time job, afterall – but it’s not like they could give an excuse to Mr. Fumet that he would have believed. As the clock ticked over to 4, the prospect of having to pull the trigger on a return trip to finish loomed over them. They had already done it once, blearily uploading PowerPoint slides to the supercomputer to save them, giving Yumi an apologetic phone call in the morning. She was used to the disorienting resets at this point, having done them for half a year after graduating and moving across the country, but they usually texted ahead of time to warn her. She was sympathetic over the phone – she always was – but she was definitely irritated about having to retake an exam. They didn’t want to put her through that again and, besides, they couldn’t exactly keep the poster board from getting erased to time.

“Future-proofing the fact half of us might fail history?” Ulrich grumbled in response from across the room, leaning against the armrest of the couch. His eyes were glazed over in a stupor as he clicked idly around on the screen.

“Ulrich, are you done with your slides yet?” Aelita spat at him, now that the silent spell was broken, “I want to start stitching them together.”

“Uh… no.” Ulrich glanced at her, subtly turning his screen away from her piercing gaze, “Gimme ten more minutes? I’m almost there.”

Aelita clicked her tongue, probably remembering the last promise of the slides “in ten minutes.” She turned to her left and nudged Jeremie, “How about you – oh my god, Jeremie, can you focus?”

“Huh?” He looked up, and guiltly alt-tabbed back to a blank PowerPoint slide. “Sorry, I was just… I had a breakthrough about the bug in the Skid and I was…” He trailed off under her glare, “Sorry.”

Aelita clutched the side of her head, groaning. “Is it too late to go back to living on Lyoko where I don’t have to care about World War I and don’t need sleep?”

“Me too, thanks.” William muttered at Odd’s side, aggressively erasing a sentence on the poster, “Being XANA’s slave was less painful than this.”

He let out a bitter laugh, then raised his head, half smirk fading at the frozen-in-terror looks on his friend’s faces, “Sorry. Too soon?”

Odd, as he so often did, interrupted the awkward silence before people could make it worse, “Future-proofing us, is what I meant. Thanks for asking!” Nobody humored him as the typing across the room started back up and William started writing again, “Look, I’m just saying; we’re not getting any younger.” He brandished a red marker, filling in bubble letters on the top of the poster, “Yumi graduated. We’ve only got a semester left at Kadic –,”

“Could just all repeat a year like I did.” William grimaced. “And might again.”

Ulrich snorted, “Odd and I are probably on track for that.”

“Cheers,” William said, raising his pencil like a glass, without looking up, “Join the failure club.”

“BUT,” Odd interrupted, “Assuming we don’t! Because this presentation is going to be incredible,” That one earned a snort from everyone in the room (which was fair), “We’ll need someone who can do our jobs if we have to leave the good fight. Lyoko Warriors, the Next Generation! Kadic’s Next Top Lyoko Warriors!” He chuckled at himself, standing up, “We should put an ad in the paper: ‘Want a challenging, world-altering job? Come down to the abandoned factory!’” He hummed to himself, tapping his chin, “Our criteria would have to be strict. Can you imagine getting someone like, I dunno, Johnny? So, Johnny. Please, tell me: what’s your greatest fear? Giant crabs, you say? Why yes, that’s both oddly specific and also a dealbreaker. Next!”

Odd looked up, laughing, waiting for his friends to join in – Ulrich telling him he was being dumb, Aelita offering some other students and joking with him about their interviews, William making a snide remark about how he didn’t get an interview, a silent, but appreciative smirk from Jeremie – but got nothing. Jeremie’s head was buried in his laptop, and Aelita was – Aelita was glaring at him?

“What?” He asked her, but she said nothing, just raised an eyebrow in a you know what’s wrong look. Odd clearly didn’t, and turned to Ulrich for a clue, but Ulrich wasn’t giving him anything; he was just back to sulking, staring at his laptop. Odd ran through what he said again in his head, trying to find the offending phrase, when William punched him in the leg. “Hey –,” Odd started, ready to give a snappy retort, before seeing William was urgently tapping at the poster, where he’d just written something. Odd crouched down to read it.

you’re upsetting jeremie.

Odd glanced back at Einstein across the room, whose face was impassive, just typing away. Looking closer, though, he could see Jeremie had all the appearances of someone trying valiantly to pretend they weren’t upset – hunched shoulders, scrunched up face, not a single glance away from the screen. Aelita had stopped glaring to put a hand on Jeremie’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

Ugh. Odd sighed, wondering if he would have to apologize for just trying to lighten the mood. How was anything he said upsetting to Jeremie? He reached over for a pencil to respond to William, scribbling down on the poster.

Can’t he take a joke?

idk. Guess he thinks you’re blaming him.

Blaming him?? For what???? bro when did I even say anything like that??

you didn’t. don’t bro me bro. not my fault

Odd underlined his first bro, giving William a smile. William rolled his eyes before rubbing out their conversation with an eraser. Odd turned back to his coloring job and took a breath, surprised to see it come in shaky. It’s not your fault he’s upset, he thought to himself, pulling the cap off his marker. It’s fine. He leaned over to finish his coloring before noticing his hands were shaking. He clenched them, angrily. It wasn’t his fault Jeremie was upset. He was fine. Not his fault if Jeremie wanted to over-react. He’ll get over it and… where were the scissors?

He dug around their supplies for them, then, picking up a pile of pictures of historic figures, streaked from the bad library printer, took a pair of trembling scissors to extracting them. They were nearly done. One more section and they’d be done. One more and they could go to bed and Jeremie would get over whatever he was upset about and it was fine and it would all go away and it was fine it wasn’t his fault and –

“I’m working as hard as I can,” Odd felt a bit in his stomach open up as Jeremie spoke in a quiet, bitter voice. Odd stared pointedly down at the poster, blinking rapidly to try and assuage the pressure building behind his eyes, “I know we screwed up by not finishing before Yumi graduated, okay? I’m just… It’s a lot to figure out and I’m trying?! Is that not enough for – No. No, I know it’s not enough – I know I’m keeping us from having a normal life and it’s my fault William had to repeat a year and… and I –,” Jeremie’s breath caught, and Odd finally dared to turn his eyes to him, seeing his friend aggressively rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “I – I don’t mean to – look! It’s hard, alright?! It’s hard and I – I’m just so tired all the time and I’m sorry that we’re still awake for this too and that I –,” His voice finally broke as he started crying in earnest, his fist coming down on the side of the couch. Odd wanted to turn back to his work and brush it off, but the guilt clenching his stomach wasn’t letting go.

Hesitantly, Aelita put her hand on his shoulder again, “Jeremie…” but he shook it off again, turning away from her. She persisted. “It’s not your fault. We know you’re working –,”

“And it’s not enough! I’ve been working at this for years and I just I can’t come up with anything to defeat XANA –,”

“You had a lot of other things you needed to do first.”

He didn��t mean to, Odd was sure, but Ulrich’s eyes flickered to William for just a moment, and William’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, are we doing this now?” William grumbled, dropping his pencil. “Jeremie, you’re fine. Look, I’m sorry. Again. You don’t think I don’t regret every moment that I didn’t listen like a fucking idiot –” Jeremie, despite being wracked with tears, winced at the swear, earning a brief hint of a smile from Odd, “ – and got myself captured? Who then was a thorn in your asses for months? No. I get it. You’d probably be rid of XANA already if it wasn’t for me; you’ve made that crystal clear.”

“That’s not what I –,” Aelita glared at him, “You of all people should understand that I would never blame you for being trapped on Lyoko.”

“It’s not you that is. It’s him.” He jerked his thumb at Ulrich, who glared back at him.

“I’m not,” Ulrich muttered, “Cut it out.”

“Oh yeah? What did that look mean then, huh?”

“I didn’t –,”

“You blame me, and we all know it. You’re just butt-hurt over Yumi still, even though you had plenty of chances –,”

“Okay, that’s it.” Ulrich sat up straighter, “Maybe you’re still using Yumi as a scapegoat in all our arguments, but I’m done with that. Maybe I was an ass to you before because of her, but I don’t blame you for XANA, William. I never have. I was over it before you even joined,” He scowled at the ground, Jeremie’s crying filling the brief silence. “It was probably my fault you got captured in the first place. I wasn’t there because I had to talk to my stupid Dad and it was my job to tell Odd and I didn’t make sure – hell, even before that! Who was it that couldn’t protect Aelita back when XANA escaped from the supercomputer in the first place? If she hadn’t been alone, the Scyphozoa wouldn’t have gotten her, and XANA wouldn’t have escaped, and we would have been done.”

“Come on,” Aelita crossed her arms, turning away from Jeremie to the boy on her other side, “You’re being ridiculous. Half of that isn’t your fault.”

Odd wanted to chime in that it was Sam’s fault she didn’t listen to Ulrich, but his voice was still missing in action, his throat tight and unresponsive.

“I should have been able to protect myself,” Aelita continued, “It wasn’t your responsibility –,”

Jeremie laughed suddenly, hurt and bitter, “Protect yourself how? You couldn’t protect yourself because I was dragging my feet on giving you a proper weapon –,”

“We’ve talked about this!” She said, “We agreed it was more worth your time to work on an antivirus!”

“For a virus that didn’t exist! If I had just double checked –,”

“Double checked what? The faulty data you were being fed? There was nothing you could have done! If you want to blame anyone, blame me. Maybe it – maybe helping me made sense at first, when things were able to be stopped at a moment’s notice. But then even when you got me to Earth it wasn’t over, and things got worse, things got more dangerous – when we realized XANA could escape? That we couldn’t just turn it off with a switch? That – that should have been it.” Her voice dropped as she took a shaky breath, “You should have just let me turn the supercomputer off.”

“You were ALWAYS worth the risk, Aelita!” Odd finally snapped, terror shooting through his heart at the broken look on her face, the implications of her words, “You… you matter to us more than anything! Look, I’m sorry for bringing this all up, alright? I thought we could just joke around about running Lyoko Warrior interviews! I didn’t mean to get everyone upset. And speaking of! Jeez! All of you are such downers on yourselves! There’s like, a billion different things that could have happened!” He held out a hand, ticking them off, “Maybe William might not have gotten captured and instead XANA got Yumi or anyone else! Maybe, I dunno, Ulrich saved Aelita temporarily but then XANA tossed him in the digital sea! Maybe Jeremie could have noticed that Aelita didn’t have a virus sooner, and XANA just made a move sooner! Maybe – maybe – maybe if you had just let Kiwi be virtualized normally and not fuse with me he would have been a great Lyoko Warrior and would have bit the Scyphozoa and killed XANA! We don’t know, alright? I’m just trying to say that – ugh, forget it! Sorry! Jeez!”

Odd rubbed at his eyes, surrendering to the frustrated and exhausted stream of tears that leaked out of them. All of them, all of this – he kept trying to play superhero, to pretend that everything was going to be alright like in the movies, but in his heart he had to admit that this was starting to feel futile. Aelita’s virus, XANA’s escape from the supercomputer, William’s capture, Jeremie’s first botched attempt at his anti-XANA program, Franz Hopper’s sacrifice, Yumi’s graduation, their failure to stop space station from falling, Jeremie’s second anti-XANA program getting stolen by the AI, and now the looming threat of their own graduation… he wanted to be joking about needing to interview new Lyoko Warriors, really, but if graduation took them away from the factory… away from each other…

A hand landed on his shoulder, he realized he didn’t need to know who it was to press his own on top of it, to squeeze it and feel loved, as more hands, more friends, found their way to his other shoulder, to his back.

“I’m sorry, Jeremie,” he said, “And everyone else. I didn’t mean to –,”

“Don’t,” came a muttered reply from Jeremie, “We’re all acting tired and stupid. I shouldn’t have yelled. I knew you didn’t mean it.”

Odd let out an exhausted laugh, rubbing his eyes of the last of the tears, looking up and seeing his friends around him, “How late is it?”

“Too late,” Ulrich replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “We’ve got… three hours until classes start.”

A collective groan broke the spell over the room. Odd looked under his feet to the almost-finished-poster. Silently, all of them returned to their working positions. Odd kneeled down to finish gluing down the last of the faces to the poster. As the lull of busy work started taking over his mind, William nudged him.

“Sorry, I, uh…” William looked uncharacteristically bewildered, “This must have happened while I was – did you say Kiwi fused with you?”

[halloweenhoneylover]

the window

summary: reader gives spencer a really cute holiday gift, and he really, really appreciates it (spencer reid x gn!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this was supposed to be a blurb lmao. also anon, u did not specify gender, so this is gender neutral!!! also, this is for the holiday season and isn’t specific to christmas (aside from mentions of secret santa gift exchange). also also, spencer knits canonically.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

Rolling your eyes, you closed the seemingly menacing pop-up on your screen and continued to finish up your paperwork. A few seconds passed before a second pop-up appeared.

DO NOT CLOSE MY MESSAGES!!!

You heaved a sigh and stood, making your way to Garcia’s lair. Pushing the door open, you skipped a greeting entirely and chided, “Dude, you gotta stop sending scary pop-ups to my computer. People are gonna start thinking that unsubs are hacking the FBI and threatening agents.”

From beneath her horn-rimmed glasses, Penelope tutted and chewed the end of her pen. “You are no fun. Besides, you are forgetting my immensely cool and mysterious origin story. ‘The Black Queen’ was not one of the good guys!”

“That’s true,” you admitted, “but you’re one of us now, so that means no more suspicious messages unless you want to be fired.”

She gave you a contemptuous glare, “Not gonna happen. Also, I’m really shocked that you thought you could distract me from the matter at hand.”

Furrowing your brow, you replied, “I don’t even know what the matter at hand is.”

Garcia’s smirk curled devilishly. “You and Reid.”

Further confusion ensued. “And what about us?”

She groaned and threw her head back, “Oh my god, you really are dragging this out. I know that you did not get him for Secret Santa, but you still got him a present.” The quirking of her eyebrows was enough to indicate that she meant more than what she was saying, and you were hesitant to explore the implications.

“Okay, first of all, it is illegal to look at my credit card history, and secondly, he is my best friend, so yes, I got him a present. Is that a crime?”

“Certainly not...but this does solidify the fact that you’re in love with him.”

“Dear god, Garcia, I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The look she gave you was one of utter incredulity. Her disbelief was so strong in fact that she did not deign your statement worthy of verbal response. Instead, she sat there. Staring. And under her rather unnerving gaze, you began to fidget, your resolve slowly dissolving. Squeezing your eyes shut, you relented. 

“Okay, maybe I am the littlest, tiniest bit in love with Spencer Reid.”

“Well, duh, but what I really need to know is when you’re gonna tell him.”

“When? Garcia, this is not a ‘when’ question. Actually, it’s not a question at all because never in a million years would I ever tell him.”

“Why not?” she exclaimed, gesturing with her pen still in hand. “You spend almost all of your time together, at work and at home! You guys go to bookstores and museums and cafes. He talks about his silly little statistics, and you listen, and you make your silly little jokes, and he laughs; you’re a match made in heaven! And he’s so obviously into you! That boy writes the definition of heart eyes every time he looks at you.”

Steeling your jaw, you rebutted, “That’s just not true.” Your voice faltered. “Sure, I’ve noticed a certain...affection, but he does not love me in the same way I love him.” You let out a shaky breath before deciding to continue. “Did you know that in all of our years of friendship he’s never touched me? I mean sure, it’s happened once or twice in the field, but that was always an accident. And yeah, I know he has his thing with germs, but don’t you think if he liked me as anything more than a friend, he would have done something by now? A pinky promise, a teasing elbow jab—I don’t know—something?”

Penelope’s face softened, and she tried to recover your confidence. “He’s like that with everyone! He likes his space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him initiate contact with anyone on the team.”

 “But isn’t that the point, Garcia? I’m just like everyone else to him. He wants space from me.” Bitterness roiled in your stomach and dripped from your tongue. “Not very romantic, huh?” 

Trying to piece together a counterargument, she stumbled slightly, “No, I will give you that.” She paused. “But I think he’s just scared. Not of germs, not of you, but of his feelings for you. He’s not the most well-adjusted person I know.”

You chuckled lightly, gradually resuming your normally light-hearted disposition, “I would agree.”

“Well, I hope he likes his present.”

The semblance of a tired smile graced your face. “Yeah, me too.” 

You turned to walk out and had almost made it out the door when her voice stopped you. “Also, I will stop sending suspicious pop-ups to your computer.”

Peeking back through the doorway, you grinned.“I think it’d be for the best. Texting does exist for a reason.”

——— 

It had been a really good day. It wasn’t often where an entire day in the bullpen passed only with friends and laughter and love and light, but today was one of them. Snow fell silently outside the windows, but everything inside felt warm like laughing so hard that your cheeks ache and your stomach hurts.

By now, a sort of daze had befallen the team as the giddiness wore on and the alcohol set in, fuzzing eyes and minds. Most everyone had paired off after the gift exchange a few minutes prior, but no one had drifted too far. (Maybe it was the team instinct: never stray too far from the pack, but it was also likely that everyone just enjoyed the proximity to their loved ones, their family.) Garcia seemed to be in heaven, tucked into Morgan’s side on a couch that had been dragged haphazardly into the bullpen, and murmured conversation stretched on with intermittent peals of laughter. Predictably, Hotch and Rossi had sequestered themselves to a nearby desk, their scotch glasses never dry and grins never fading. (Hotch during the holidays was something special. His often frigid demeanor thawed, and out from the ice peeked his former self who wasn’t so serious. (His rare giggles were quite the surprise though.)) Emily and JJ sat on the latter’s desk, discussing anything and everything (except for psychopathic murderers), while you had pulled your chair up to sit beside Spencer at his desk. 

“So are you pleased about your gift from Rossi?” you asked, a faint grin playing at your lips.

“I am,” he replied, clearly enthused. “But I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he managed to get an authentic TARDIS key.” His finger traced the edge of the authenticity certificate Rossi had bestowed on him that sat on his desk; the key was already hanging around his neck.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded. “Well, money is a powerful thing.”

“True,” he mused before furrowing his brow. “But that’s another thing, the expense limit is not a suggestion, but he always treats it like it is. Puts all the rest of us to shame.”

“There’s no shame in an inexpensive gift!” you argued. “As long as time or thought was put in, it doesn’t matter.”

“Penelope surely didn’t skimp on time spent for yours,” he said, pointing to the homemade knitted hat and glove set on the desk beside you.

“No, I did not!” she yelled from her spot on the couch, somehow having managed to pick up on your conversation, and you laughed. “Lots and lots of time and love was poured into those!” Her speech was slightly slurred as her eggnog intake began to infringe on her lucidity.

“I know this, and I love you for it,” you beamed at her.

“I love you too.” She proceeded to bury her face in Derek’s shoulder who could only chuckle at her antics. 

You picked up a glove and inspected it. “I truly cannot comprehend how she made these. Circular knitting needles are my living hell.”

Sitting up with renewed interest, Spencer said, “If you need help with them, I could lend a hand. I knit my mom a sweater this year, and I think I finally understand how they work if you ever wanted me to show you.”

“I’d love that.” Hopefully, the flush of your cheeks could be blamed on the wine you had had. “Speaking of your mom, how is she? Are you excited to see her?”

The corners of his mouth turned up, and he nodded. “She’s good; her nurse said she’s been doing really well lately. She’s less paranoid, more alert, so I’m really excited. I think this will be a good trip.”

“I’m so glad!” You sat there with a dumb smile for a moment, your mind lagging for a moment (damn wine) before realization crashed onto you. “Wait, speaking of your mom, I have something for you!” He cocked his head to the side as you stood up and went to your desk, rifling through one of the drawers. Pulling out a neatly wrapped gift, you trotted back over and offered it to him. “This is for you.”

He took it, running a hand over the wrapping paper (it was the one with cowboys wearing Santa hats that you had found when shopping together a couple weeks before, his favorite). “(Y/N), you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Shrugging lightly, you said, “Yeah, I know we did the whole gift exchange thing, but I saw it, and I thought of you and had to get it.” And you definitely did not actively seek this out for him in the search for his perfect present. Which is something somebody who is definitely not in love with him would do.

He looked up at you, eyes already glassy and searching your face for something. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but then he met your gaze with unwavering certainty. “Thank you, (Y/N/N).”

“No problem, ya big sap, now open it already.” 

Ever the cautious one, he opened it carefully, sliding a finger under the edge of the paper and gently easing the tape up. The small action of unwrapping a present so attentively was just so Spencer your heart swelled as you suppressed the growing grin. From the paper emerged a book.

“‘A Collection of Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer,’” he murmured, smoothing a hand over the cover.

When he didn’t immediately react, seemingly frozen, nerves crept up the back of your neck, and you sputtered out some sort of reasoning. “I know your mom used to read Chaucer to you; you mentioned ‘The Parliament of Fowls’ when we worked the Fisher King case, and it’s in this collection, and I thought it’d be fun for you to take it to Vegas and read it together and—”

Your explanation came to an abrupt halt as Spencer threw his arms around you, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. Immediately melting into it, you embraced him with a similar intensity and buried your face in his neck. Something in his touch allowed you to let go, and it felt like the moment you could finally exhale. 

A breath you’d been holding for longer than you could remember. 

You could smell the cologne that he wore for ‘special occasions’ and his shampoo and something so faint but so undeniably him, and his hand slid up to the back of your head, cradling it in the most tender fashion, and you felt like you could cry. So you pulled him closer, and he did the same.

The hug definitely lasted longer than what most people would find comfortable, but neither of you could be convinced to retreat until you became aware of the silence that had settled over the bullpen. You felt the many pairs of eyes on you, and it pained you to pry yourself off of Spencer. Breathless, you looked around at the shocked faces of your co-workers who sat with mouths agape and eyes wide. You coughed slightly to try to ease the tension and then for some reason beyond your knowledge, you decided to wave at them in the most awkward fashion. Sitting back down, you could feel stares lingering as conversation resumed, and you looked up at Reid who looked like a deer in headlights. You laughed quietly, tugging his sleeve until he received the memo and sat down again. 

He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, glancing at his present. “Thank you for the book, (Y/N/N).”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your tone earnest as ever. Still reeling from the hug, you faintly became aware of the speed of your heartbeat and unconsciously brought a hand to your chest. You attempted fruitlessly to sort through your raging thoughts, while across from you, Spencer tried to think of something, anything to say now. 

He couldn’t really believe he’d done it. His germaphobia remained everpresent, but somehow the emotion welling in his chest at your sincerity and benevolence had overridden it, and he felt helpless in stopping himself. His heart had lurched in his chest as if it was suddenly struck with the need to be in your hands, propelling him forward. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted to for so long, but he’d never mustered the courage before. There was something so special, so intimate about touch, and so many people gave it so freely, and he just didn’t understand how they could allow themselves the indulgence. The absolute luxury of giving and receiving love. Spencer often felt like he sat by a window, watching his life pass by outside of it, and he had always wanted to open it, to really experience all the joy and all the grief and all the love that was waiting for him, but it was scary to open himself up to those feelings and the hurt that could ensue. So, he usually sat discontented by his window. But today, it was like he’d grabbed a hammer and smashed the glass completely and stepped through to be able to return the love you had offered him. 

It felt so good.

But now, he had no idea what to do. He stood there in the midst of the shattered glass, and deep down, he knew had to take the last couple steps to get to you, but he didn’t know how. 

His fingers fidgeted in his lap as he analyzed your blank face, trying to find something to give him the next direction when a realization hit him. “I didn’t get you anything!”

Drawn back from the depths of whatever thought you had been stuck in, you met his gaze and shook your head. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I broke the gift exchange rules to get you something, so you had no way of knowing.”

“But I feel terrible.” His eyebrows drew together, and he frantically tried to think of some way to repay you. “You get me an incredibly lovely and wonderfully thoughtful gift, and I’m the loser who didn’t get his best friend a present!”

“Spencer—”

“Wait!” he interrupted, a revelation arriving. (He knew how to take the last steps.) “When I get back after the holidays, do you want to get dinner with me? Then, we can go to the bookstore on 10th that you love, and you can pick out a book, and I’ll pay.”

Your eyes widened further than you thought possible, and your heart which had only partially recovered was off to the races once again. You decided to take the plunge and ask the burning question. “Do you—um, do you mean like a date?”

“Yeah,” he answered, beaming so brightly. “Yes. Like a date. If you want to.”

You held each other’s gaze, and the warmth that had filled the bullpen all day filled your chests, and you smiled so hard your faces hurt. 

So silly, you thought, to have wasted all this time boarding up my affection and keeping it tucked away, safe and useless.

So ridiculous, he thought, to have sat by that stupid window for so many years when the real thing feels so sweet.

“I think I’d like that a lot.”

[nightshade-minho]

-The Ritual-

-Incubus!Minho + BestFriend!Jeongin x fem!Reader-

Warnings: themes of jealousy, occults and demons, unprotected sex, minho has a huge cock, face fucking, sir kink, cunnilingus, 69, anal penetration, creampie, a little cumplay, a little overstimulation, a lil finger blood for ze ritual~ etc.

Word Count: 5.2k (I got a little carried away...this is the smuttiest thing I’ve written in a while hhhhhh-)

Disclaimer: This scene is entirely consensual. Minho’s powers do have the ability to make you incredibly aroused, but it can’t force you to do anything against your wishes. 

"Have you got everything?" You whispered, making the boy next to you jump in shock.

"Y/n! For God's sake, you scared the fuck out of me-"

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes at Jeongin, who went back to perusing the library shelf with a small huff. 

"Did you get everything?" You repeated insistently, following as Jeongin moved away from you, walking over to another shelf. He glared at you, sighing.

"Did you-"

"Shut up!" He scowled, looking away from you to grab another book from the shelf. 

A few seconds of prolonged silence passed as Jeongin turned to look at you, sighing when he saw your bottom lip quivering.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled.

"Y/n- no, it's okay. Next time, don't sneak up on me like that..." he sighed. "I've just got so much work on my plate. It's so frustrating...and I took that frustration out on you. Sorry."

You pressed your lips together, nodding and looking away. He sighed, moving a little closer, hand hovering over your shoulder before hesitantly coming down.

"I'll come over at 10, okay? We'll do this." He said, trying to feign enthusiasm. You shoved his hand off your shoulder, shaking your head. 

"I know you're not as into this as I am. I just thought...as my best friend, you'd want to do something fun with me. But if you'd much rather spend the night with your nose buried in a textbook, I won't stop you."

Jeongin smiled, that wide smile of his that affected you in a way you couldn't quite describe.

"Summoning a demon in your college dorm at midnight isn't exactly what the average individual would call fun, Y/N."

"You've always known I'm not the average individual." You winked. "Right...I'm going to let you study now. See you tonight! Don't forget-"

"Candles, rose petals and wine. Got it."

You grinned, waving as you walked away, a slight bounce in your step. Jeongin watched as you left, fondly shaking his head as he turned back to the shelf.

***

As the doorbell rang, you jumped off your bed and rushed to the door, opening it with a wide smile. "Jeonginnieee!~ Did you bring snacks?"

He nodded, struggling with the amount of packages he was holding. "Yes, along with the things for the ritual- shit, can I have some help here?"

You giggled, grabbing the plastic bag and one of the packages from his hand. You stared at the wine bottle in his hand pointedly.

"One of my friends got this for me. Don't ask who. It's a super cheap brand and I think it's half drunk already but-"

"It'll do." You interrupted, smiling as you suddenly pulled him down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Jeongin's grip on the bottle tightened as his brain filled with sparks- the contact of your lips against his skin sending electricity shooting through his chest.

"You're the best best friend I could ask for. Thank you for getting everything."

Jeongin nodded nonchalantly, scratching his neck as he set the bottle and another package on the counter.

"Hey, the ritual needs to take place at midnight. We have like, 2 hours till then. Wanna watch a movie or something?"

"Why else do you think I brought snacks?" He laughed, opening the plastic bag and throwing a large packet of chips to you, that you caught with ease. Grabbing two cans of soda and a bag of candy, the two of you made your way to the couch. 

"Let's watch a horror movie? To get us in the spirit?"

"Sure." Jeongin commented, ripping open the packet as he sat on the floor and leaned against the couch. You smiled, popping a CD into the DVD player and crawling back over to Jeongin, cuddling close to him.

Jeongin gulped as you wrapped your arms around him. Your proximity was making him sweat, and he discreetly wiped away a drop of perspiration from his forehead. Over the years, you'd think that he would get used to your touchiness...but he just never did.

Nearly an hour later, you fell asleep halfway through the movie. Jeongin sighed, patting your hair as you slept, watching the rest of the horrid movie by himself. When a particularly silly scene came on screen, he wished you were awake so he could criticize it with you. His eyes drifted to the clock, eyes widening as he realized the time.

He poked your shoulder insistently. "Fuck, Y/n, get up...the ritual needs to take place soon, and we haven't set everything up yet-"

You blinked slowly, looking at him in confusion. "Hmm? Oh-"

You pushed him away, jumping up to your feet. "Shit, let's get the things ready, quick-" 

He sighed, standing up slowly as you ran to the packages on the counter, unwrapping everything. He watched as you jumped around in your hurry, chuckling to himself. 

Man, she's really into this.

Jeongin thought about it for a few seconds, sighing as he decided to show a little more enthusiasm...after all, you were his best friend...you always listened so patiently whenever he talked about his interests. 

He made up his mind. He'd put a little more effort into-

"What are you standing there for? Help!!"

He smiled at you, shaking his head, moving closer and helping you take out the things you needed.

***

Jeongin sat on your bed, watching as you tweaked some final touches here and there.

The silk had been laid out on the floor, all the lights were off. The room was illuminated in a warm, ochre glow, thanks to the numerous candles that had been lit and placed everywhere in the room. 

You made sure the rose petals were scattered properly, pouring just a little more wine into the single glass in the middle of the pentagram you'd made with the red yarn you'd found on sale in the crafts shop. 

Sitting up, you rubbed your forehead as you went over to the windowsill, relighting one of the candles that had snuffed out.

"15 minutes." Jeongin reminded as you nodded. "Okay...we're ready."

You sat down in front of the pentagram, breathing heavily in anticipation. Jeongin watched from his perch on your bed...He knew nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen tonight...unless a candle knocked over and set fire to the whole building. However, as he watched you bite your bottom lip in worry, he almost hoped you wouldn't be disappointed...that something out of the blue would happen.

Oh, if only he knew.

"So...say we do manage to summon a demon. Exactly how would this benefit us?"

"Good question." You pointed to the big book in front of you. You'd bought the huge tome from an occults shop down the block...it had been expensive, and you'd gone a few days without breakfast...but it was worth it.

You read out the paragraph to Jeongin, and he nodded, chewing on his lip as he listened. When you were done, he sighed, moving onto the floor next to you. 

"So, basically...like a genie? The demon will give us 3 wishes?"

"Eh. Genies don't exist. Also...they're not exactly wishes, more like...favours? I think? He'll ask us to repay them at a later date."

Jeongin rolled his eyes. "And nothing sounds fishy about that? Nothing? I'm not sure I want to be indebted to a demon..."

"Eh, it'll be fine. We've got to start. Okay, everything's ready...now, it says that the person who conducts the ritual needs to mix in a drop of their blood with the wine, and then drink it."

Jeongin wrinkled his nose. "Eww. Y/n, come on..." 

"What? It says it right here in on the book. It's just a tiny drop of blood, Jeongin. No big deal." 

"Are you sure...?"

"Yep. Okay so after that, we just need to chant this phrase three times, blow out the innermost circle of candles and voila! Our very own demon, here to do our bidding."

"F-fine."

You smiled at him, glancing up at the clock on the wall and swearing under your breath. "Fuck, it's time...Okay, let's begin." 

You scrambled around with one hand, finding the pocket knife and hovering it over your fingertip. Biting your lip, you slowly sliced your skin open, letting a tiny drop of blood fall into the wine glass below. Jeongin quickly got up, grabbing a box of band-aids from the bedside table and handing it to you. You glared at him for interrupting you, but sighed and let him wrap your finger up anyway.

Wrenching your hand away once he was done, you glanced at the clock once again before lifting the glass to your lips.

The wine flowed down your throat, the taste bitter and potent. You coughed once as you set it down, your eyes going over to the paragraph.

"Recipienti pignori obligo animam meam, et non sunt daemonium...et quod summoneret eum cum sanguine." 

You repeated it thirteen times, and then glanced at the clock again. One more second...

12:00.

You blew out the candles quickly, the entire circle snuffed out before it became 12:01.

You sat back, panting as the plumes of smoke danced around in the air. A minute passed by, then two.

Nothing happened.

A small sigh left you. You turned to Jeongin. The boy gave you a sympathetic smile, pulling you into his side and patting your shoulder. "It's o-"

He was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. The two of you turned around so fast you almost got whiplash...but there was nothing. Just smoke.

Wait...a lot of smoke. You frowned slowly as the candles kept releasing more and more of it, until there was far too much. The curlicues of smoke twirled in the air, fogging your vision as it slowly started forming into a figure. 

A figure with horns.

You quickly buried your face into Jeongin's chest, your heart beating fast. No way. No way it actually worked. This had to be a dream...right?

The way Jeongin shivered slightly beneath you proved otherwise. No. It all felt too real.

You looked up slowly, swallowing. 

He was still there.

A man...he was clad in a suit, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up and shirt unbuttoned all the way to his torso. His black hair was slicked back, exposing his forehead, and his nose was sharp...

Perhaps the most notable of it all were his eyes. They were almost catlike and shone with a crimson glow. 

Oh...that and the horns. Huge, blood-red horns that jutted out from his head.

His gaze was filled with scrutiny as he coolly stood there with his hands in his pockets, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, cowering on the floor.

"Did the pretty one here summon me?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, a small smirk on his face as his eyes roved over the silk and rose petals on the floor.

You gulped, pulling away from Jeongin a little more, but the boy didn't relax his grip on you. "Y-yes."

He nodded. "Thought so. I was actually extremely busy...but I could sense you were a cute one. I don't mind bending the rules a little for mortals like you." You noticed how he was only looking at you, completely ignoring Jeongin.

He looked around, going over to the armchair next to your bed and reclining on it, his stance reminiscent of a king's as he placed his chin on his hand, looking down at the two of you.

"Hmm, go on with it then. Why are you still fully clothed?" He asked, hand coming down over the straining bulge in his pants. 

Jeongin frowned, looking over at you in confusion that mirrored yours. What the fuck?

"I'm s-sorry? I thought...it doesn't mention that I have to be naked in the book here-"

He rolled his eyes, still palming himself. "Whatever. If you prefer being clothed, that's fine. Let's just get this over with, okay doll? Come here." 

"I'm c-confused-"

He tilted his head. "Why? You want your wishes granted, right?"

"Yeah-"

"Exactly. There are certain things I require as payment for those, you know." He meaningfully looked down at his bulge, and then back up at you again.

Your eyes slowly widened in outrage. "Wait...what the fuck??" Jeongin's mouth slowly opened in disbelief as you shook your head vehemently. "No. Nope. No way. I'm not going to let a demon fuck m-'

He shook his head, chuckling. "Darling, how else would an incubus such as myself grant your wish?"

"Pardon!?"

"We draw our powers from sexual energy-"

"I never-" You looked back at the book, scanning the paragraph over and over again. "I- it says nothing here about incubuses-"

"Incubi. And of course it doesn't. It's common knowledge that all wish-granting demons are incubi."

Jeongin shook his head, deciding he'd heard enough. He worked up his courage, trying to pretend like he wasn't intimidated by the actual demon that was in his best friend's bedroom.

"Look here, Sir- you can't just have sex with her. We must have missed the part where it said you were an...an incubus. Just go back where you came from."

The demon frowned slowly, his eyes finally landing on Jeongin. There was a questioning look in his eyes.

"Oh. I hadn't noticed the boy here." He sniffed the air, shaking his head. "His blood isn't involved in the ritual...must be why I couldn't see him properly till now." He mused, almost to himself as you looked at Jeongin, the two of you sharing a look filled with fear and bafflement. 

"It doesn't work that way, unfortunately, boy. I came here...and sadly, I cannot leave Earth until my purpose is satisfied and 3 boons are granted."

You shivered, wondering what the hell you had gotten into. The demon noticed your discomfort and sighed, inspecting his fingernails. 

"Look. I don't care if you have sex with me or not, although it wouldn't hurt to have my way with a pretty little kitten like you. All I need is sexual energy, so just fuck your friend here. I don't care."

It took a minute for the two of you to process what he had just said. He felt embarrassment fill him from head to toe as he buried his head in his hands, unable to look you in the eye.

However...you were starting to feel something quite different. The air was heavy and thick with a scent that was melting your inhibitions away, one by one. You felt arousal grow in your core, amplifying to the point where you let out a soft whimper, unable to control yourself anymore. 

You looked up slowly, gulping as you noticed the demon's eyes on you. He was smirking, a malicious one that was trained on you. His aura was driving itself into your brain, making you weaker and weaker in his presence.

"What...what are you doing to m-me?" You choked out, trailing off into a moan as you felt another sharp burst of pleasure.

"Hm? I'm not doing anything, little kitty. I'm just here, existing."

You felt your brain grow mushy as your neediness grew. 

He was an incubus, and you were chained to him with a blood link, thanks to the ritual. His pure sexual energy was merely too much for your human brain, and as the seconds passed by, you were closer to giving up.

Jeongin watched with horror in his eyes as you closed your eyes tightly, trying not to breathe in the contaminated air. However, as you felt another ribbon of ecstatic pleasure shoot through you, you finally snapped.

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, you crawled across the floor as the demon spread his thighs to accommodate you. He smirked at your needy form that looked up at him with wide, blown-out eyes, on your knees.

"Good girl." He ruffled your hair, chuckling as you ate up the praise, scrambling to unzip his pants. You managed to take his cock out finally, after a few minutes of fumbling.

He was big. Too big. His cock was redder than a human's, and almost angry looking.

Mouth-watering.

"What are you waiting for? Cat got your tongue?" He cooed, grabbing a handful of your hair as he held his cock with his other hand. 

You moaned, opening your mouth and staring up at him. He groaned, the innocence on your face entrancing him as he shoved you onto his length, your tiny mouth engulfed with his huge cock.

Spluttering, you felt tears spring to your eyes as he slid impossibly far down your throat. He groaned and threw his head back. The sight of you with your mouth stuffed full, your throat bulging with his cock...it was threatening to drive him insane.

Meanwhile, Jeongin could hardly believe what he was witnessing. He was frozen in place, unable to move even an inch as the shock filled every inch of his brain. The demon looked up at him, his grip on your hair relentless as he slowly started fucking your throat, so deep you could barely breathe.

"Like what you see, boy? Your girl's little throat mercilessly fucked by a demon? Tsk. How spineless." 

Jeongin felt the slightest bit of anger rush into him. Somehow, the demon's presence was amplifying his feelings, making him even angrier as he continued using your throat as a fucktoy. 

"S-stop."

"Hm? Why should I?" He paused, pulling you off his cock roughly, your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, Sir. Please, please use me!" You begged, eagerly moving forward to take him into your mouth again. 

The demon looked back up at Jeongin, evil grin reappearing. 

Jeongin clenched his fists, hating how weak he felt. The sight of you on your knees, sucking off this, this impossibly hot demonic man, was putting a bad taste in his mouth. 

"Sir, just...you have to, stop-"

The demon wrinkled his lips, shaking his head. "My name is Minho, boy. I don't own you, so I don't expect you to treat me with respect...although you will, if you know what's good for you." He tutted, looking down at you again and holding you down on him harshly, your nose pressed to his skin.

"This kitten here does, though. The little ritual she did binds her to me for life."

"You can't- you can't just do that. You can't just take ownership of someone against their will-"

"It's not against her will. She's the one who carried out the ritual, may I remind you. I'm not forcing her to do anything." He lifted a finger in the air lazily, and somehow you found your body changing position, hands slipping off his lap and settling on the floor. Now you were on all fours, lips still wrapped around him as he bucked his hips up.

"The air stinks of jealousy. May I remind you that Envy is one of the deadly sins, little boy?" 

Jeongin didn't know what to say any more. He felt utterly helpless, out of place. His feelings were all muddled, and he didn't feel like himself. Sweat was gathering on his brow as Minho eased his grip on your hair, slowing down a little and letting you control the pace. He lifted his finger again, waving it in a tight circle...The energy in the room shifted even more as your skirt slowly lifted up, exposing your ass to Jeongin's eyes.

It was becoming harder to hide the straining bulge in his pants. 

You whined softly as Minho pulled out of you, fingers holding your chin as he observed your wrecked face carefully. "What a good kitten. Now, I think this little boyfriend of yours is enjoying the show too much." Minho looked up, his gaze directed at Jeongin's bulge.

"Wouldn't it be mean to make him watch and leave him out of this, kitty?" He asked, mock sympathy on his face as he waved his finger again, making your panties and shirt disappear in less than a millisecond.

You let out a soft yelp, feeling slightly humiliated. It turned you on more, as you realized you were now completely naked except for your skirt and socks. "Yeah, Sir, whatever you say." You let out a sigh and rested your chin on his thigh. "Want Jeonginnie to join too~" you mumbled.

Jeongin gulped, hating the way even more blood rushed south at the sight of you half-naked and on all fours. Now, he had a clear view of your glistening pussy as well as your puckered rim. He licked his lips subtly, all his emotions conflicted as he found himself moving closer. 

"Y/n...you really want this?" He asked softly, stopping a few centimetres away.

You turned around to look at him. "Yeah...please..." You pouted. The expression on your face was so needy that Jeongin couldn't help but cave. Besides, now that he was closer to Minho, the aura he was emitting was starting to affect him as well. And that meant he could feel his arousal grow at a fast rate, his cock painfully caged in his pants.

Minho leaned down a little to pick you off the floor. His suit jacket and shirt disappeared, leaving him shirtless as he settled you on his lap, facing Jeongin as he spread your legs.

Hands on your waist, Minho nosed at the back of your neck as he lined your entrance up with his tip. Your eyes were focused on Jeongin, senses clogged with ardor as Minho slowly lowered you onto his cock. The wetness gushing out of you made it a little easier for him to slip in, however his size was still stretching you out to the point where it was borderline painful. 

You felt the tears flow down your face freely, as Minho finally managed to push the last few inches in, his entire girth sheathed in you. He was as thick as he was long, and your pussy accommodated him desperately, aching.

He grunted, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Too fuck- fucking tight, princess-" He groaned, starting to fuck you on his cock slowly, his strokes roughly trying to open up your pussy.

Jeongin couldn't remember exactly when he'd taken his cock out...but his hands were wrapped around it, stroking slowly as his hooded eyes watched you bounce on the demon's cock. Minho used one hand to gather your skirt up, exposing the spot where you two were connected to Jeongin.

Jealousy, arousal, fear, shock and anger...it all melted together in his brain as he let his dark side take over, slowly. He knew it was because he was in close quarters with an incubus- the raw sexual energy was too much for his human brain to process healthily...it still felt so wrong.

"You want to fuck her, don't you? What are you standing there for, then?" Minho groaned, as he continued plunging his cock into you.

You whined loudly as Minho's tip hit your sweet spot roughly. "Jeongin- want jeong-" You tripped over your words as Minho fucked you dumb.

"P-please, Jeonginnieeee~ Want you in me!" You begged, one arm reaching behind you to wrap around Minho's neck as his hands came up to cup your boobs.

Minho looked up from kissing your neck, red eyes trained on the boy. "You heard her."

He sure did. As the last shred of apprehension faded away, Jeongin couldn't bring himself to care any more. In a few long strides, he was right in front of you.

He let go of you, as Jeongin pulled you downward, so that your face was level with his cock. Minho's grip on your hips was tight, making sure you didn't fall as you tried to steady yourself by placing your hands on Jeongin's thighs.

His thumb swiped across your bottom lip as he stared at you with hungry eyes, before he slipped it in. You started sucking on it eagerly, making the boy above you chuckle. 

He pulled his thumb out, prompting a whine from you- but quickly, it was replaced with the head of his cock as he pressed it against your parted lips, taking him in.

Jeongin's cock, despite being much smaller than Minho's, was above average for a human, and it still filled up your mouth deliciously. You felt him dive deep into your throat as he tangled both of his hands in your hair, using that as leverage to fuck into your mouth harder. 

"Good boy..."

"Don't call me that." Jeongin spat, his anger building up. He took out his frustration on you, fucking your mouth harsher than Minho had. The combination of two cocks in you turned you on more than ever, and soon enough, you came as you blubbered incoherencies, clenching tightly around Minho.

A few thrusts later, Jeongin felt his high approach. Not wanting to cum yet, he pulled out quickly. You looked up at him, looking so fucked out, absolutely heavenly. How ironic.

He needed you. He'd never felt any emotion this intense before. Gritting his teeth, Jeongin pulled you off Minho, throwing you onto the bed with a grunt. You stared up at him in shock, looking to the right at Minho. 

The demon let out a low chuckle, settling himself comfortably in his chair as he propped his chin up with one hand, the other jerking himself off.

Jeongin couldn't look at you. He avoided eye contact, knowing he'd go completely insane if he looked at you.

Roughly spreading your thighs, he leaned down to take your clit between his teeth. You let out a moan, throwing your head back as he shoved his tongue between your folds, groaning at the taste. He kissed and sucked all over your pussy, heart beating a little too fast. His fingers came up to rub at your clit as he shallowly fucked his tongue into your entrance.

Minho slowly stood up, tired of standing to the side. Gently, he shoved Jeongin to the side. The latter growled in frustration, but stopped as Minho lay down on the bed. You quickly understood, his power influencing you to comprehend what he wanted you to do.

You climbed onto Minho backwards, his cock in front of your face. You kissed up his length immediately, lips wrapping around his tip as you felt him grab your ass, pulling you so your pussy made contact with his tongue. 

He pulled away for a second. "Go ahead and fuck her ass, it's a lot tighter than her pussy." He said, knowing how roughly he'd fucked you just a while ago.

Jeongin couldn't care less. He just wanted to be in you, as quick as possible. As he led his cock to your ass, he gulped. This was not how he'd expected the night to go. 

He spat on your winking pucker, pushing in shortly after. You were so consumed with passion that it barely hurt, even when he started thrusting roughly. The pleasure set you ablaze, the combination of Minho's lips wrapped around your clit and Jeongin's dick deep inside your ass tantalizingly unreal. You couldn't think straight. 

Minho put his hands under you, spreading your ass cheeks, making Jeongin groan. You felt his tongue making its way into your pussy, making you moan around his cock. 

The room was filled with sounds of skin slapping skin, as well as the groans of the two men fucking you.

Jeongin had imagined having sex with you before. This was definitely not how he'd ever expected it to go. He'd thought of asking you out, taking you on dates, kissing your face and lips softly...yet here he was now, fucking your ass demonically. 

You purred as you felt his cock twitch inside you, starting to suck on Minho's cock harder. He tasted so different, almost addicting. You were driven with an intense need to taste his cum, kitten-licking his slit to try and get him to orgasm. 

You whined as Minho used his grip on your ass to drag your pussy over his mouth. The sound was so beautiful, driving Jeongin closer to his high. Before he knew it, he was fucking into you faster than before, intent on filling you up. In seconds, he came with a grunt, filling you up perfectly with his seed.

As he came down from his high, he regained some of his sensibility. He felt self-loathing fill him, hating what he'd just done. 

Jeongin watched as Minho ate you out roughly, his grip so tight on your ass that it was sure to leave future bruises.

As the demon sucked on your clit, you felt yourself shake, whimpering around his length as another orgasm washed over you, clenching around Jeongin's cock that was still inside you. The overstimulation made him bite his lip and pull out, watching as a drop of his cum leaked out of you. Using his finger, he gathered it up and pushed it back into your hole gently. 

Your continuous moans were sending vibrations down Minho's length, and soon he was fucking up into your mouth, chasing his high. He came after a particularly rough thrust, filling up your mouth with so much cum that it leaked out of the corners of your mouth.

Jeongin sat back as Minho pushed you off of him slowly, propping you up on the bed. Weakly, you closed your eyes, collapsing against the pillow. All the strength had been zapped out of you, and you fell asleep quickly.

Minho noticed Jeongin's worried expression, chuckling. "She just got fucked by a demon and her best friend. She'll be okay after some rest." He said, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"I...don't like this. She's never going to look at me the same way ever again. I've failed her as a best friend-"

"Woah, stop right there. She wanted it. She was practically begging for you."

"Well our friendship's never going to be the same after this, and I blame you." He said, glaring at the demon, who put up his hands in defense. 

"Look. You two summoned me, I came, I did my job." 

Minho lazily leaned back next to you, as you slumped, resting your head in his lap as you snored. He chuckled, and stroked your hair as if you were a cat.

"I could get used to living here." 

"What?!"

"Once I'm on Earth, I can't leave until I've satisfied my client's wishes. And I can tell the two of you are going to be...hard to satisfy. I'm going to be here for a while." He smirked. 

Jeongin tried not to let the jealousy show on his face. He hated the idea.

"You're in love with her...aren't you?"

Jeongin's eyes widened as he stared up at the demon whose eyes had softened. 

"I see the way you look at her. How protective you were of her." He sighed. "I'm a sex demon...love isn't my specialty. But...I know a few things about passion. You can't give up."

"That's easy for you to say." Jeongin groaned. Here he was, taking advice from a hellsent demon. What had his life come to?

"Anyway, I'll be spending a lot of time around here, so you'd better get used to this, boy."

"Jeongin." He looked up. "That's my name." 

Minho grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

He sighed, looking at you as you exhaled in your sleep, heart clenching with fondness. He couldn't believe the situation you'd gotten the both of them into...but somewhere deep down inside, he didn't regret anything that had happened.

Sometimes, being the responsible, mature one in your friendship was a challenging job..but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 12

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,815ish

Summary: You are still trying to cope with the fact that Steve’s married. (Read note at the end of the chapter.)

I do not own Grey’s Anatomy or Marvel.

You and Natasha eventually found your way back to your house and into your bedroom’s adjoining bathroom. Natasha was in the bathtub as you laid on the floor.

“It's not us. It's them,” you said. “Them and their stupid boy penises. They didn't tell me they had a wife. They gave absolutely no warning that they were going to break up with you.”

“It's not that Banner broke up with me,” Natasha began. “It's how he broke up with me. Like it was business. Like it was a business transition like he's the boss of me!”

“He is the boss of you.”

“And what's worse is that I care.”

"I'm gonna throw up again.” You moved so that you were leaned over the toilet bowl. "No. Wait. False alarm.”

“Look, the problem is estrogen.”

“No, the problem is tequila.”

“I used to be all business, and then he goes and gets me pregnant.”

“With the stupid boy penis.”

“Now, I'm having hormone surges. He ruined me. I'm ruined. He turned me into this fat, stupid, pregnant girl. Who cares! Estrogen!”

Having heard the commotion from your bathroom, Val, Scott, and Clint found themselves standing in the doorway.

“Penises,” you stated. “Penises Val.”

“Estrogen, Scott. Estrogen,” Nat added.

“Okay…” Scott said, looking around. “What did I miss?”

“I came home to full on vomit drama,” Val explained. “Apparently she dumped Derek and her—“ Val pointed Nat’s way. “She’s been sleeping with Banner!”

“What?”

“So you really broke up with Rogers?” Clint asked.

“I feel empty,” you responded.

“Two hours of vomiting will do that to you,” Val said with a shrug.

“You’re lucky,” Nat added. “I feel pissed off.”

~~~

Arriving in the parking garage, you could clearly see Steve waiting for you. Getting out of your car, you slammed the door as he came closer.

“Stop,” you growled at him.

“What?” Steve questioned, pretending to be all innocent.

“You're stalking me. Stop it.” You continued into the building with Steve following you.

“Did we not communicate last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear what I was saying?”

“Your wife screwed your best friend.”

“And then from that point on she no longer existed to me anymore.”

“You had marital amnesia?”

“No.” Steve reached out and grabbed your arm, successfully stopping you. “Come on I bared my soul to you last night.”

“It's not enough.”

“How can that be not enough?”

“When you waited 2 months to tell me and I had to find out by her showing up, all leggy and fabulous and telling me herself, you pulled the plug. I'm a sink with an open drain. Anything that you say runs right out. There is no enough.” You pulled away hurrying inside with your friends after you.

“She probably could've picked a better metaphor,” Clint commented.

“Give her a break,” Scott said. “She’s got a hangover.”

With a huff, Steve followed. Tony, who was also coming in, quickly caught up to him.

“Dr. Rogers!” He called.

“Dr. Stark,” Steve replied.

“We have an organ donor coming in this afternoon. We're doing a harvest.”

“Commendable, but—“

“In OR one at four.”

“I’m in OR one at four.”

“Your surgery is non-critical.”

“You can’t bump me!”

“As Chief, I can. You’ll be first up tomorrow.”

“Interim Chief. Bump somebody else!”

“You’re in the OR we need.”

“Why can’t the harvest be done somewhere else?”

“Cause the donor’s coming in from a small facility. We have the location, the airport nearby and the staff. Your surgery is rescheduled.” Then Tony turned, heading away.

“I’m not done talking about this, Stark!”

“Well, I am! See ya around Rogers!”

~~~

Rounds weren’t too bad, especially because you successfully ignored both Peggy and Steve. It even became slightly better when Gamora called you in for a bowel obstruction. Except the guy wouldn’t tell you what he ingested.

“You know, Mr. Sanders, it would be easier if you just told us what you ingested,” you pried, taking him to radiology. “We’ll know anyone, once we see the films.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Mr. Sanders responded.

“Mr. Sanders, whatever you’ve ingested could kill you. Are you sure you don’t just want to tell me?”

“It might offend you.”

“It might? Is it drugs?”

“No.”

“Mr. Sanders.”

“It’s not drugs, I promise.”

“Well, good, I’m glad.”

“I… Nope, not going to tell you.”

“Fine by me. We just reached radiology, so I’m going to find out anyway.”

It wasn’t long before Mr. Sanders was back in his room and the radiologist had found you with the scans.

“It’s drugs,” the radiologist stated handing the scans over to you. “Looks like at least 13 small balloons in the bowel. My guess, cocaine.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, holding up the scans up to the light. 

They didn’t totally look like balloons, so you weren’t completely convinced. Before you made any judgement calls, you found Gamora.

“It’s drugs,” you told her, handing her the scans. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered, placing the scans onto a screen. “One burst and he’s dead in minutes. Okay, what do we do?”

“Run his bowel.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Running the bowel entails removing all 36 feet of the intestine from the body cavity, hand searching for the balloons and then cutting them out.”

“Good. Book an OR and get two other interns on board, need all the hands we can get.”

“Dr. Gamora,” Y/N called as Gamora tired to leave. 

“Yes?”

“Are you sure they’re balloons?”

“You have reason to believe they’re not?”

“Well, the more I look the more I realize that this one,” you pointed to the scans, “has a face.” Gamora looked closer. “And this one… they all do.”

“I’ll be damned. They’re Barbies. He swallowed 13 Barbie doll heads.”

~~~

“Barbie heads?” Scott repeated after you told him, Natasha, and Peter what happened.

“Yeah,” you responded. “And Gamora wants two of you to join us in surgery.”

“I’m already booked.”

“I can do it,” Natasha said.

“Me too,” Peter said.

“My foster mothers used to buy me Barbie dolls. All sorts of them.”

“I also wanted one,” you added. “My parents never let me.”

“I dissected them. Cut off their arms, shaved their heads.”

“You’re a little scary,” Scott stated. “You know that?”

“I try.”

“Sounds like there’s a sick and twisted story behind this,” Peter said.

“No, they’re sexist, distorted devil toys that create unrealistic expectations carrying to the porn driven minds of men,” Natasha expressed.

“You swallow a bitter pill this morning, Romanoff?” Gamora questioned, coming up to you interns. “They’re just dolls. Quill, call for a psych consult. Then see if he has family.”

“Should I still book the OR?” You wondered.

“Blocked bowels become necrotic bowels. Check with Dr. Stark, see if we can bump someone. Those Barbies gotta come out today.”

~~~

Gamora had given Clint the impossible assignment to revive a patient. And, unfortunately for him, he was stuck with Laura.

“Any family members waiting?” He asked as he stapled up the man’s chest.

“Still trying to reach them,” Laura responded.

“Good. Well, I mean, not good that we haven’t reached anyone. Good that I don’t have to, uh…”

“It’s always hard.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about Peter.”

“It’s fine. It’s good. No need to talk about it.”

“You do understand that I had sex with him before you, not during, right? Because when you and I were together—“

“I understand.”

“I just wanted to clear the air.”

“Oh, it’s clear. Perfectly clear… okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“And about the syphilis—“

“We really on’t have to talk about it.”

“Which is, I mean, I didn’t know I had it. I definitely should have, I’m a nurse. Like, there was a sore and I was all itchy.”

“Okay!” He backed away almost knocked the tray beside him over. “You know I, uh, got it. You know things happen.” He moved to the door, away from Laura.

“They really do. Things you wish you could change.”

Clint’s pager rang and he looked down. “It’s the Chief, I gotta take this.”

“Sure… Clint.”

“Yes?”

“You have to call it.”

“Call it?”

“Him.”

“Oh, yeah.” He looked at his watch. “Time of death 1:37.” He turned to leave again.

“And, Clint,” he paused, not turning around this time, “if we could, I wouldn’t mind trying again.”

“Maybe… some day…”

~~~

Tony was walking down the hall with Maria, going over the donor surgery.

“When is the donor getting here?” He asked.

“Should be here at 3. Harvest team’s not heir way in.”

“I also need to touch base with the transplant center about a patient here getting his son’s liver.”

You walked up. “Dr. Stark,” you called. “Dr. Gamora needs an OR and they’re all booked.”

“For?”

“An emergent bowel obstruction.” She handed him the scans.

“Drugs?”

“Barbie heads. 13 of them.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Maria looked at the films. “I can see their little faces,” she commented. “That patient must have serious issues.”

“Hill, can your hernia in 1 be bumped?” Tony asked.

“Most likely.”

“Do it.”

“On it.” Maria left.

“Thank you, Dr. Stark,” you said, moving to go.

Tony grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. I’m really fine.” And you pulled away.

~~~

You, Gamora, and a doctor from psych were currently discussing the psych evaluation on Mr. Sanders.

“He’s not talking. It could be pica,” the psych doctor stated. “Doubtful for a man his age. Maybe an oedipal complex or an idolization of the doll as his partners. Or it could be that he simply enjoys it.”

“Now I've seen a lot of strange things in strange places but how does he enjoy this?” Gamora questioned.

“He’d enjoy it when they came out.”

“I didn’t need to hear that.”

“Dr. L/N,” Peggy called as she walked back. “May I speak with you for a moment?” You looked at Gamora for help.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not gonna help you.”

With a sigh, you went to Peggy and the two of you began walking away.

“I assume he told you why he left me,” she said.

Annoyed, you stopped in front of her. “Look, Dr. Rogers, will all do respect, this has nothing to do with me,” you said.

“Really? So you didn’t take him back. Good girl.”

“And int he future, I’d appreciate it if we could keep our relationship strictly professional.” You walked away.

“Y/N!” You stopped and turned back slightly to give Peggy your attention. “Sometimes people do desperate things to get someone’s attention.” You shook your head and started walking again. “There are two sides to every story!”

~~~

You, Peter, and Scott arrived at lunch first. The three of you picked a large table farthest away from the others.

“Look what I went out and got,” Peter said, putting a grocery bag on the table.  Opening the bag, he revealed 13 headless Barbie dolls.

“Really, Quill?” You wondered.

“That’s gross,” Scott cringed.

“I think it’s funny,” Peter said, smiling, as he laid them out on the table.

“Of course you do,” you muttered.

“Oh! That is sick!” Clint commented as him, Natasha, and Val walked up.

“Who would do that?” Val asked. They looked to see Peter smiling.

“Oh, look!” Natasha said, picking up a doll. “See Barbie fly.” She throw it at Peter, who ducked.

“Hey, Clint,” Laura greeted, walking by.

“Hey,” he replied, sitting down at not looking at you. The interns all gave him a look. “What?”

“She was trying to make up with you, Clint,” you told him. “You should go eat with her.”

“No, I shouldn’t…. No.”

“She’s cute and she likes you,” Scott said.

“You shouldn’t let a little syph get in the way of that,” Val added.

“It’s not the syph,” Clint insisted.

“It’s so the syph,” Natasha said.

“It’s not the syph!”

“Then what is it?” Val asked. Clint didn’t answer, looking down. “Oh.”

“What?” You wondered. Clint simply shrugged. “What is it?”

“There’s this other girl,” Val responded.

“Val!” Clint exclaimed.

“Other girl?” Natasha questioned. “You have another girl?!”

“He hasn’t told her that he likes her yet,” Val said.

“Val!” Clint exclaimed again. “This isn’t high school.”

“Clint has a little crush.”

“I do not… It’s a thing, a very personal thing. One day I would like to build on this thing with this other girl—woman. She’s all woman.”

“What are you doing, Clint?” You asked, slightly harsh.

“I-I don’t—“

“With Laura. What are you doing with her?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

“You’re letting her think you’re emotionally available. You’re letting her think she has a chance. And there is nothing worse in the world than think you have a chance when you really don’t!”

“Y/N is right,” Natasha said. “Tell her that there’s someone else. And tell her why, Clint. I mean— I mean at least give her the chance to have some feelings about it!”

“Why are you both yelling at me?” Clint asked.

“Because of the estrogen Clint! Because of all the estrogen!”

~~~

“Was it an act of desperation?” You asked Mr. Sanders as you headed into his surgery.

“Not at all,” he replied.

“Something to attract attention?”

“No.”

“I’m just trying to understand here. Why 13 doll heads?”

“Well because 14 would’ve been too much.”

You cringed and helped the nurses get Mr. Sanders on the operating table before going to scrub. It was Gamora, you, Peter, Val, and Natasha in the surgery.

“I think it has something to do with his mother,” Val suggested. “Maybe she always wanted a girl and gave him Barbie dolls because of it.”

“Ah, ah, I’ve got another one,” Peter said, showing the head in the intestine.

“Uh!” You groaned.

“Doyen clamps to Romanoff,” Gamora ordered. “L/N, push the head up to the incision.” You began to squeeze the doll head up through the intestine.

“Maybe his mother looked like a Barbie doll and he’s into voodoo,” Peter suggested. “Instead of sticking pins in… well…”

Dr. Stark entered the OR. “You good here?” He asked Gamora, observing you though.

“Couple more heads to go,” Gamora responded.

“Then L/N stay here. All you other interns I need you on other cases.”

You met Tony’s eyes before he walked out of the OR.

~~~

Clint was put on a case with Steve. They were about to go separate ways so that Clint could run labs, when Steve stopped. He looked back at Clint.

“Is she okay?” Steve asked.

“Who?” Clint questioned. He looked up at Steve and knew. “Y/N? She’s… hanging in there.”

“Look out for her.”

“I will.”

Then Steve walked away. Before Clint could get really far, Laura found him.

“The family of the guy we worked on this morning is here,” she told him.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Clint responded.

“Clint, I just want an answers, so that I can get on with my life if I need to.”

“Look, maybe I’m not over the Peter thing yet or the syph thing… And I really want to be, but there’s also another girl. And, to me, it doesn’t matter there’s this other guy and frankly I wouldn’t care if she gave me the Ebola virus… I like you, Laura, I really do. Just… I—“

“You’re going to need some time.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead. “Thank you for understanding.”

~~~

Steve was standing alone in the elevator when Peggy walked in, both dressed to leave.

“Just when the day was improving,” he murmured.

“You told Y/N what happened?” Peggy asked.

“I did. Why? What did you tell her?”

“That sometimes people do desperate things to attract attention.”

“What? Wow. That's your side of this? That I didn't pay you enough attention. Is that you were thinking when you got naked with my best friend?”

Peggy reached over and stopped the elevator. "No, by that point I wasn't thinking at all Steve. By that point I was just scratching an itch. We got successful you and me. We got busy and we got lazy. We didn't even bother to fight any more Steve. And Bucky was there and I missed you. And now I'm sorry.” Steve restarted the elevator. “I’m more sorry than you can possibly imagine. But at least I'm talking to you about it.” The doors opened and Steve walked out. “Steve.”

“I’m a sink with an open drain, honey.”

~~~

“Did you get them all?” Mr. Sanders asked. You were checking on him, post-surgery.

“Yes,” you replied. “It wasn’t easy or very pleasant. How do you feel?”

“Empty… I feel empty now.”

“Yeah. I've been feeling a little bit of that myself lately.”

“I can tell.”

“Mr. Sanders, why does eating doll heads fill you up? What’s the satisfaction?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Would it be too much information?”

“Might.”

“Maybe I’m better left in the dark.”

next chapter >

I leave for Disney World in a week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while. Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me.... be respectful and get over yourself.)

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[wastelandcth]

We’re Going Home - cth

part of nation of two

summary: Petra reminisces on Calum’s first date mistake and how the safety of a car changed her world. Calum thinks of a place to runaway to. 

author’s notes: This was a lot of fluff and me looking out the window while it rained. Enjoy!

warnings: Not much, just two lovestruck fools missing one another.

masterlist || request || previous part || next part

Calum had never been a fan of the rain. It reminded him of early mornings when he'd wake up to the rainstorms outside his window and how the ache in his bones practically begged him to stay in bed and drift off to sleep for a little while longer. The rain was just another disturbance in his life. If it rained, his soccer practice would get canceled and he'd have to walk back home, the rain soaking his clothes and weighing down his backpack. Once the band had taken off, the occasional rainstorm put another sour mood on Calum. Outdoor shows would get canceled or delayed, leaving Calum to stare out of the tour bus window as rain droplets raced to the bottom of the windows. If the rainstorm was severe enough, planes he needed to take would get grounded until the storm passed and he wouldn't catch his connecting flight. The rain also meant that sometimes plans he had that included Calum being outside would end with him soaked and left shivering, his bones aching for warmth and dryness the rain usually scared away. The rain outside of Calum's hotel window filled him with a sadness he couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was the fact that the tour had been taking a toll on his body and that he missed his bed and his mug he always used in the mornings while at home.

Or maybe it was the fact that Petra was showing him the view from whatever restaurant she'd been eating at.

"I'm telling you, the second you've settled back in here at home, I'm taking you here and you're going to eat the best french toast you've ever had," Petra said, her camera showing the Pacific Ocean in all it's vastness.

Calum had never been one for jealousy. But as he watched the blue sky and blue ocean on his screen, his body ached with a want to be there next to the woman he loved. He'd do anything to be sitting next to Petra at a cafe, eating amazing french toast and watching the ocean waves. He would do anything to be next to her, holding her hand and listening to her laugh about the way the birds seem to hover above their table in order to steal a french fry or two. So yes, Calum was jealous.

As Petra looked out at the ocean, from where she'd been sat enjoying a glass of ice tea, she couldn't help but chuckle at herself. She'd been trying to get out more and more these days. With Calum gone, she wouldn't have to worry much about having to stop whenever Calum was spotted by fans and waiting for them to chat for a bit before continuing their errands. She'd gotten used to the dates she'd go on with herself, eventually timing them out so that she'd be able to talk to Calum for at least a few minutes before he'd be whisked off to his next engagement with the band. Their first date had also been close to disastrous, according to Calum who told Petra later on, because of his band's engagements. But Petra had just laughed and assured Calum second chances were worth giving.

Petra had arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early, wanting to save a secluded table for both her and Calum. She knew who he was, of course, she knew who Calum Hood was, and she assumed he'd want privacy when it came to things like first dates. so arriving a few minutes early to get the table near the back of the coffee shop was just something she'd wanted to do for him. The coffee shop had been one that Petra had only been to once when she'd gotten lost after a wrong turn and had ended up in the neighborhood. The outside of the building was a white brick, reminding Petra a lot of those old western stores in the movies.

The inside of the coffee shop, which had smelled of fresh coffee and pastries, had large lamps overhead, giving the already bright building an even brighter indoors. The dark green tiles and dark wood accents around the inside were calming, feeling like a place where Petra could sit down for hours and read a book. Usually, she'd bring a book with her wherever she went, but she had left her most recent read in the backseat of her car, not expecting to have much time to read while out on a date. She'd be too busy getting to know the man with pretty brown eyes who she knew was talented enough to get anyone he wanted, and yet he still chose to invite her out to coffee.

"So, Petra, what do you think about coffee?" he'd asked over the phone one day.

They'd been doing this for a while now, talking over the phone during the slow moments of the day where each other's company was comfortable. Petra had learned a lot about Calum during the soft voices exchanged over phone calls. She'd learned that his favorite snack at the moment was fruit gummies even if it made him sound childish, which it didn't. She'd learned that he'd been busy writing a new album with his band and that usually meant he'd disappear off the face of the earth for a couple of days when inspiration hit, but he'd always try and send her a picture or funny meme to let her know he was still very much alive. Petra had learned that Calum, although usually quiet and reserved according to himself, could talk for hours about anything that crossed his mind during those moments in their calls.

"I don't think I'm well versed in coffee if I'm honest," Petra had admitted, "I never know what to order whenever I do end up at a coffee shop."

"Well, how about we go out and find your drink? I know a great spot where we can start," Calum said happily, "You up for it?"

"Yeah, that sounds fun, as long as I don't develop a caffeine addiction," she teased and looked over at her calendar, "How about Wednesday?"

"It's a date."

And it was almost a date, except for the fact that Petra had sat at the coffee shop for almost an hour and had yet to see Calum. Sure, LA was known for having horrible traffic and Petra herself had gotten stuck in it while on her way to the shop, but an hour with no text or calls from Calum had just made her cranky and annoyed. She'd ordered a coffee by herself, regretting her choice as soon as the bitter liquid hit her tongue, and had forced herself to finish it before she eventually decided to call the date done and over with. The walk back to her car had been quick, her head throbbing with annoyance and a hint of embarrassment. She'd been halfway home when her phone rang, Calum's name played across the screen.

"Petra, I'm so sorry!" Calum breathed out, "I know I said I'd been there almost two hours ago but things got crazy at the studio and I know that sounds shitty but I hope you can forgive me and maybe I can make it up to you!"

If Petra had known Calum at least a little less than she did, she would've never picked up the call, she would've let him go to voicemail and maybe not even call him back ever. But she knew Calum wouldn't have stood her up on purpose and she knew that if they really were going to make something more of their phone calls and occasional flirting over text, she'd have to understand what his job entailed sometimes. She was an adult, she knew dating meant sometimes people make mistakes and that working around them was what would make it worth it in the end. 

"Calum, it's...I'm not going to say it's fine because I would've appreciated even just a text saying what was happening,' she sighed, "But maybe we can try again soon, yeah? I had a pretty shitty coffee again, which I am blaming on you," she said with a teasing tone, hoping that Calum caught on to it.

"How about tonight?" Calum asked, his voice hesitant as if he was expecting rejection, "I could pick you up and we can just drive around, maybe pick up some of those burgers you were telling me about? I promise to be on time."

Petra had ended up agreeing to his second first date proposal because he sounded genuine and she couldn't help the flutter in her heart at the mention of the burgers. She'd told Calum about them almost a month ago and knowing he'd remember such a small detail made her a little more hopeful about this working out after all.

"I'll text you my address," Petra chuckled out, "Drive safe, okay?"

Calum's car, which would become a haven for them both at different times in the future, was quiet as they both looked out at the city lights. Their stomachs were full, the burgers and french fries they'd shared making their silence a comfortable one. Calum had profusely apologized the second that Petra's door had opened, the bouquet of flowers in his arms a peace treaty as both of them rode off into the evening.

"The flowers, they're from the same flower shop?" Petra asked as she glanced over at Calum. who'd been focusing on the road.

"Oh, um, yeah," Calum chuckled, "Apparently the cashier and manager were taking bets to see if we'd gather the nerves to go on a date or not," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he turned his head to look at her, "Had to tell them about tonight."

"Bets?" Petra laughed and shook her head, "Cherly and Carly, right? The one with the curly hair? She practically bullied me into telling her what had happened when we met," she teased.

The date, which had gone off without another problem or disastrous time issue, had been the most fun Petra had ever had since she'd joined the dating scene in LA. She hadn't expected such a relaxing way to spend her evening to be with an international rock star like Calum. She'd laughed so hard her ribs hurt and had sung out loud in the car with him until her throat was sore. By the end of the night, when the safety of Calum's car had come to an end and the driveway to Petra's house was in view, they both sat in comfortable silence. The engine of the car, which hummed quietly between them, the only noise around as they both glanced at each other.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, I'm glad we did this," Petra said softly, breaking the silence and smiling as she saw the relieved look that washed over Calum's face.

"I'm glad we did too. Again, sorry about earlier today," Calum mumbled and sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh, it's fine, really. Just make sure I get to hear whatever masterpiece you came up with first, yeah?" she teased, leaning over the center console to press a kiss onto his cheek, "Text me when you get home, okay? Drive safe!"

Calum listened to the familiar ring playing from the speaker of his phone, waiting for Petra to pick up. His eyes were busy, focused on the mirror in front of him as he tried to deal with the unruly curls he’d let grow out after Petra insisted on seeing how long they could get. He was halfway across the world, in a hotel he couldn’t pronounce the name of, but it was his last morning there and Petra had no idea that by this time tomorrow he’d be back in her arms. After weeks and weeks of being away, promoting an album that would change the band’s sound and image, Calum was going home to be with his girlfriend. He’d be leaving gloomy Europe, with rainstorms that never seemed to end and accents that he had trouble understanding at times, for the endless sunshine and love that LA had recently shown him. 

“Hi gorgeous,” Petra chuckled as she picked up the phone, “You’re calling quite early for someone who went to bed four hours ago,” she teased. 

“Hi Pebble,” Calum teased, the nickname earning him a groan from across an ocean, “I missed my girlfriend, couldn’t sleep without your snores.” 

“I’ll hang up if you’re just going to tease me,” she threatened with a light laugh, “I miss you too, bub, only a few more days though!” 

“Yeah, you better be ready for me to be stuck to your side for weeks,” he mumbled and chuckled, zipping up his toiletries bag and picking his phone up off the counter, “I’m expecting an amazing brunch spot reservation.” 

“Oh you know me, I’ve got all the connections,” she laughed quietly, “Do you have a busy day today?”

“Mhm, a lot of interviews,” Calum mumbled, his shoulder holding his phone up against his ear as he finished packing the rest of his thumb up, “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to call you again until tomorrow.” 

“That’s fine,” Petra said, the smile evident in the way her voice rose, “You know I’ll still send you an endless amount of pictures and memes.” 

“And I love you for it,” Calum chuckled, “I’ve got to go now, but I’ll talk to you soon?” 

“Of course, have a nice day! Blow them away, bub!” she said happily, her voice warming Calum’s body at the thought that he’d be with her so soon. 

“Will do, Pebbles,” he smirked, laughing quietly as Petra kept her word and hung up the call. 

The ride from the airport back home had been a blur to Calum. All he recalled was stuffing his bags into the back and buckling up, the bright skies and warm weather making him regret the hoodie and thick beanie he’d worn to try and hide from the prying eyes. If he wanted his surprise to truly work, he would need to remain unseen in public. But by the time the car had turned onto the familiar street of his neighborhood, Calum began to squirm in his seat, the excitement of being so close to Petra overcoming him. The car had barely stopped before Calum was unbuckled and out, his bags dragging behind him as he threw out a thank you to his driver as he ran to the front door. The light, which was usually off by the time morning came, was still on; acting as a guiding light for Calum to know that he was truly home.

His key unlocked the front door, leading him into the house he’d begun to call home soon after Petra had come into it, and he was met by the familiar bark of his old dog. Setting his bags down by the entrance, Calum toed off his shoes and pulled off the hoodie that had kept his warmth contained within him. His back ached from the long flight and he was starving, his tummy rumbling at the thought of food, but that wouldn’t stop him from crouching down and petting his dog as he waddled over to him. Duke’s tail wagged from side to side so quickly it was a blur of black and white, his paws landing on Calum’s thighs as he sniffed Calum making sure it was really him. Calum had been so busy greeting his best friend and kissing his stinky head that he hadn’t heard the footsteps coming from the hallways. 

“Duke, I’m sure it was just the mail person again, or the neighbor walking their pup,” Petra mumbled, her eyes widening as she was met with the sight of her boyfriend standing in front of her, “C-Calum?” 

“Hi baby,” Calum grinned, straightening his back out and looking at her with wide eyes, “Surprise!” 

Calum hadn’t had the chance to say much else, the force of Petra running into his arms and hugging him had knocked the breath out of him. His arms wrapped themselves around her waist and pulled her even closer, if that was possible, and Calum’s nose nuzzled against the top of her head. They stayed like that for a few minutes, breathing one another in, making sure that they were both truly in the same room again and this wasn’t some cruel dream they’d both wake up from alone in a bed oceans apart. Petra had been the first one to pull away, her eyes meeting Calum’s before she’d cupped his face in her hands and pulled him in for a kiss. 

“I missed you so much,” she mumbled, leaving kisses in between her words, “What’re you doing here? I thought you still had a few days?” 

“I missed you too,” Calum chuckled and smiled, “A few interviews were canceled and they sent us home early. I just got in about an hour ago.” 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so glad to have you back,” she whispered and nodded, pulling him into another kiss that left Calum giggling against her. 

“I am too.” 

Something Calum loved about the ocean was the vastness of it. Sure, he was absolutely terrified of the secrets it held and the fact that much of it was unexplored, but sitting on the hood of his car with Petra by his side as they both stared out at the waves made of all worth it. After a shower and a much needed snack, Petra and Calum had made their way over to the brunch spot that overlooked the ocean. After a lot of french fries and kisses shared between the two of them, the drive to the ocean was peaceful, both of them taking each other in. By the time they had made it onto the beach, the sunny skies were covered in a fog of clouds. It would be Calum’s luck, after all, to have the rain follow him wherever he went.

“Do you think it’ll rain?” Petra asked, her eyes meeting Calum’s even through the dark sunglasses they both wore. 

“I hope not, I thought I had escaped the rain,” Calum teased and pulled her close, “Come on, let’s walk in the sand a bit.” 

With hands held tightly, their arms swaying as they strolled down the dandy beach, Calum found himself at peace. The past couple of weeks away had left him wanting more from his relationship and wanting to do more for Petra. In the past, the mere thought of a future with someone would’ve had Calum running for the hills. But with Petra it all made sense, he wanted to be by her side every day, to see her go through her day and be there to make her smile. As the first few droplets of rain fell from the sky, he realized that this future, the one with Petra, was all he’d been missing. Their stroll was cut short, much to Calum’s displeasure when the curtains of rain got closer and closer. The waves roared next to them, the ocean alive and ever more powerful as the rainstorm above them finally let go. 

Calum looked over at Petra, who had tugged on his hand and before Calum knew it, they were both racing back to the car. The sand hadn’t made it easier for them to run, both of them stumbling as they raced through the beach in fits of laughter. By the time they’d both shut their doors and panted out breaths, they were completely drenched and looked as if they had jumped onto the ocean itself. They sat in silence watching the view outside of the safety of the car. Watching the waves crash onto the ocean and battle with the clouds above them that were spewing out rain. It was all so violent and sudden, but Calum’s eyes shifted to watch Petra. 

He watched as her eyes widened, watching the storm in awe as his chest rose and fell with each breath she took. He watched as her hand ran through the curls, that not even the rain could mess with, trying to shake the water out of them. She was beautiful without even having to try and Calum was out of breath. But Calum didn’t mind, not at all, because Petra could make even the thing he hated the most a beautiful sight. 

“We should run away to Sydney for a bit,” he mumbled quietly, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as Petra’s eyes met his, “I want you to meet my family.” 

join my taglist: @hoodhoran​ @moonlightcriess​ @mxgyver​ @calpops​ @karajaynetoday​ @notlukehemmo​ @calumrose​ @devilatmydoor​ @lowkeyflop​  @conversecake​​ @hemmo1996-5sosvevo​​ @ashtonsunflower​​ @2fangirl4u​​ @multistann​​ @wiiildflowerrr @himbohood​​ @in-superbloom​​ @ashtonsunflower​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​ @killmywildflower​​ @sebsbrokentoe​​ @nicebasscalum​​ @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere​​ @mikelitorisdotcom @letmereadpls​​ @hardcandyhemmo

[andie01writing]

In My Head

“No Peter,” I state firmly blockading the door to my boss’ office.

“Just two bloody minutes,” the man growls in front of me.

This was an ongoing argument between the two of us.

“Just like every other time you’ve barged in here over the past two weeks. Mr. Regal is not seeing anyone without an appointment.”

“I don’t need an appointment,” he growls reaching around me.

“The fuck you don’t,” I return the growl shoving the man. The fact that I moved the man only possible because I caught him off guard. I didn’t give him a chance to recover. “I know the accents are different but I’m assuming we’re both speaking English. I will tell you one more time. You want to see Regal you need a fucking appointment. You ever fucking try to shove your way past me again and I will kick your ass little boy. Now get out.”

He opens his mouth to argue and I cut him off.

“I said get out and don’t show your face until you can learn some respect. Go,” I snap as he stares at me. He backs away slowly, eyes never leaving mine until he’s forced to turn and make his way down the hall.

“Vivian?”

“Mr. Regal,” I force a smile onto my face as I turn to face my boss. “What can I do for you, Sir?”

“You have made sure I am very well taken care of, thank you,” he smiles.

“It’s my job.”

“What about you, my dear?”

“Me, sir?”

“You are like a daughter to me. I can read you like a book. I know you are vying for my job, dear.”

“Would I…”

“Yes, dear, you would. I taught you to be ruthless with your business dealings.”

I had to admit he was right. He was fresh out of rehab in WCW and I was a disrespectful eighteen-year-old bitter because I was stuck in the Nitro Girls instead of being allowed to wrestle. The older man took me under his wing after smacking some respect into me. He taught me how to navigate the backstage politics and how to bend them to my needs. I was willing to follow him anywhere which is how I ended up in WWF two years later. I had him to thank for my long career in the company. That is until my accident three years ago, one bad move and my neck was ruined. Deep depression settled over me as I tried to find a place in the world without wrestling. Regal pulled me out and put me back at his side as his on-screen assistant on NXT. I soon replaced his actual assistant backstage and dived into learning the ends and outs of running a show at my mentor’s side. “Yes, I want to take your place over on NXT. Everyone knows that once this succeeds over here that you will be too busy here to continue over in the states. I can do this.”

“I know. Keep it up,” he winks. “I also know something else is going on with you. I noticed you withdrawing again about a month ago,” he continues as I turn to the papers on my desk. “I originally attributed it to adjusting to a new country but now it is beginning to worry me.”

“It’s nothing. Personal. Shouldn’t be discussed during work.”

“The work day is over.”

“The work day is never done in wrestling,” I smile.

“Vivian…”

“I just have to finish up some paperwork for you, William. You’re done for the day, I am not.”

“Will you be back in time for dinner Sunday. Christina is practically giddy at the thought of seeing you.”

“Since I’m not going back to the States, yes,” I state shuffling through the papers in my bag. “It’s a waste of time. There’s nothing back there for me at the moment. I’d rather just hunker down here for the next four days.”

“What do you plan on doing with your free time?”

“Sight see,” I lie, shrugging. “Here is the recipe Ms. Christina asked me for,” handing over a small bundle of papers. “I can’t wait for her to try it Sunday night. I made you reservations at her favorite restaurant for tomorrow night at six. Make yourself presentable, old man. Now go, I’ve got work to finish.”

“You are avoiding me,” he sighs taking the papers. “I’ll allow it for just a while longer but not for much longer.”

“Yes sir. Enjoy your time off. I seem to have left my tablet back at the hotel room. I will have your itinerary for next week to you Sunday.”

“We are going to talk Sunday,” he sighs pressing a peck to my temple. “Don’t work too late.”

“Will do, sir.”

I stare down at the picture on the phone. “A month later and he’s already moved on.”

Who am I kidding? He had probably been nailing her for months before he broke it off. The tears come unwarranted as I scroll through three weeks’ worth of Instagram posts. Gym selfies, fan art, repost from fans at his shows, and at least one picture a day of the two of them snuggled up together. Each new picture tears my heart deeper. “You have been doing this to yourself for the last two days, just fucking put the damn phone down.,” I grumble to myself scrolling further. A knock pulls my attention to the door. “Go away,” I mutter under my breath. Another knock, harder this time. “Fine.” Yanking the door open I come face to face with Pete. “Ah, fuck,” I groan hiding my face behind the door. “What do you want Peter?”

“An appointment with Regal.”

“What?”

“An appointment with Regal, please.”

I feel a smirk pull at my lips at the simple show of respect. “When?”

“Early.”

“Let me check his schedule,” I sigh moving across the room to my tablet.

“Are you crying?”

“What?”

“You’re crying,” he states behind me, I can feel the heat radiating from his body behind me.

“No, I’m not,” I mutter wiping furiously at my face with one hand while the other brings up Regal’s schedule. “Stupid weather around here. How about eight am Monday?”

“Fine. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not,” I mutter. “You have your appointment.”

I wait for the man to leave so I can break down again.

“When was the last time you’ve left this room,” he asks instead.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“I don’t know, honestly.”

“You have what you came for. You can leave now.”

“You still haven’t told me why you’re crying. You don’t seem the kind of woman to let a man break your heart, quite the opposite, you seem the type of woman that break little boys for fun. I’m intrigued to know what could make you cry.”

I stare up at the man over my shoulder.

“It is a man,” he states, eyes widening.

“It’s a business arrangement that went south, if you must know,” I sigh turning. “He saw me as a chance to advance his career. When I decided that I would focus on my career instead of his, our relationship started showing cracks. He was a fuck boy that found some other hole to fill,” I growl before wilting. “I stupidly gave my heart to him.”

“I’m sorry,” he states softly.

“So am I,” I chuckle sadly, blinking away the tears.

He closes the short distance between us, his arms hesitantly wrap around me pulling me to his chest.

“What,” I start.

“Shut up.”

I lift my head to argue when he winds his fingers of one hand through my hair pulling me back to his chest as the other rests at the small of my back. I feel the tears pricking at my eyes again. “No, no, no, no,” I think as they start to slide down my cheeks. “I am not going to fall apart in front of this man.”

His thumb slides up and down along the spine of my neck. Thoughts of all the times “he” did the same thing trying to comfort me when my depression would start to rear its ugly head flash through my mind. Eventually that little bit of effort on his part was too much for him causing me to feel even more alone. The sobs finally break through my reserve and I clutch the man in front of me. He makes no move to comfort me further other than just holding me tightly against his body as sobs rock me. Eventually he shifts us both so we’re sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” I hiccup.

There is no response.

I try to pull away but he only holds tighter.

“Pete…”

“I’m not good at this,” he whispers. “Talking just makes me feel awkward.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” I snort. “It’s not like you’re sobbing on a complete stranger or anything.”

A grunt is my only response.

“Quiet is perfect,” I breathe returning the tight embrace.

Monday morning hits me like a ton of bricks. The only restful sleep I had the past couple days was the hour I drifted off on Pete’s chest. Of course, the man was gone when I woke up. My dinner with William was full of pity which did not help my general mood.

“Vivian, dear, why is Dunne on my schedule?”

“Because he tracked me down and asked for an appointment.”

“Why?”

“Because I needed to talk to ya and yer guard dog wouldn’t let me past.”

I turn to find Pete smirking.

“He only got the appointment because he finally found some respect for me. Didn’t even have to smack him once,” I grin.

“Smarter than some I know,” Regal smirks waving the younger man forward. “Come on then.”

Pete winks setting a full coffee cup on my desk in front of me.

“Thank you.”

“Messed up my order,” he shrugs.

“Thank you regardless,” I call over my shoulder.

After that day, Pete is always there hovering. Never touching but close enough to be sensed or staring from across the room so I knew exactly who was interrupt my conversation with Mark Andrews.

“So, Regal has already gone over your new contract, correct?”

“Yes,” he smiles.

“Then this is yours,” I hand over the stack of papers ignoring the heat on my neck. “Just need you to initial this,” I smile holding out the clipboard for him to initial. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” Mark begins as I start to walk away. “I know you’re pretty much our boss but a few of us are heading to a pub after the show and…Is there something we can do for you Dunne?”

“Was just wonderin’ if Ms. Allen has anything for me.”

“Not at the moment. I’ll swing by Regal’s office when I’m done for my next set of errands.”

He doesn’t move from his spot.

“I’ll find you if I need you, Peter,” I smile glancing at the man behind me. “Mark, find me closer to the end of the night. If I’m not swamped, I’d love to join you.”

“You promise,” Mark smirks.

“I don’t make promises,” I wink turning. “Jesus, Pete,” I grumble. “I have a couple more things to do before I make it back to the office. Find something to do.”

“Ya shouldn’t do that,” he mutters following me down the hallway.

“Do what?”

“Lead him on.”

“Who?”

“Mark. You shouldn’t flirt with him like that?”

“Why? Do you want me to flirt with you like that?”

His face flushes blood red.

“Or would you prefer to flirt with him?”

His jaw clenches as he stares down at me.

“I’ll find you around if I need you,” I smirk. “Tyler. May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Thank you for inviting me out,” I smile at Mark. “It’s nice to relax a bit.”

“May I ask a question?”

I nod sipping from the water bottle in my hand.

“What’s with Pete and you,” he asks nodding to the end of the bar.

I shrug. “He’s taken a sudden interest in me and I don’t have a clue why.”

“He’s informed everyone to stay away from you.”

“Didn’t know he was the boss of the locker room.”

“He’s not.”

“I guess you don’t have to listen to him then,” I smile.

“Fuck,” Mark mutters.

“What,” I ask turning to follow his eye line. I find Pete standing nose to nose with another guy arguing. “So much for relaxing.”

“Where are you going,” Mark asks as I stand.

“To keep the idiot from losing his job. What’s going on here boys,” I ask squeezing myself between the two. One hand resting on Pete’s chest as I eye the other man. Standing slightly taller than Pete, he lacks any of Pete’s muscle.

“’E ‘ad his paws all over me girl,” the stranger slurs.

“She loved it,” Pete growls.

“Peter,” I warn not taking my eyes off the stranger. “Kindly keep your mouth shut.”

“Listen to yer bitch, boy.”

“No,” I smirk. “You listen to me. Not this bitch.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pete chuckles.

“Who do you think you are?”

“The Little Devil Vivian Ward. Although most drop the little devil part now-a-days.”

He looks me up and down. “You don’ look like much.”

“Looks can be deceiving. Now I apologize for my friend’s misunderstanding. It’s time for you to take your girl and enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Maybe I don’ want ‘er now that she’s taint’d.” One hand comes up to stroke up my arm.

“I prefer to be tainted. Least he has the right equipment. If I wanted to play with a pussy, I’d play with my own.”

I could see the swing coming before he even decided to move. Blocking the slap, “See, that’s a bitch move. Walk away.”

“Or what?”

“You won’t touch her,” Pete growls behind me.

“Yer gonna let yer boy speak fer ya?”

“Don’t need…” a groan cuts off my sentence as he lands a punch to my stomach.

“Hope ya weren’ pregnant, bitch,” he spits.

“Nope,” I huff punching him in the crotch. Straightening I halt Pete’s charge. “You’re just full of bitch moves.”

“Call me a bitch one more time.”

“Bitch,” I overenunciate the word.

The sluggish punches are easily deflected as I get inside his guard. “Walk away,” I growl. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough.”

“Ah’m not done wit you.”

Punching the man one last time directly in the mouth, “I’m done with you. Pete, come.”

“I’m not your dog.”

“But I am protecting your job. Regal hears you’re getting into bar fights and you’re done. Come. On.”

“What about you?”

“What about me,” I mutter.

“Regal…”

“I am more than capable of handling Regal. He is more than capable of taking care of me and my bar fights.” My phone buzzes in my pocket. “He’s coming now. Someone took a video. Gather the others and disappear. I’ve got this handled.”

“Your hand,” he motions.

Glancing down, I find my knuckles bleeding.

“Vodka on the rocks,” I call to the bartender. Glancing back at the man beside me, “I’ve got this handled too. Go on.”

“Yes ma’am,” he sighs.

[castiel-kline]

happy birthday @angelfishofthelord !!!

here’s Cas being Old and talking about dinosaurs to hopefully make you smile <3

---

“Hey, there you are!”

Castiel is tucked in a corner of the library when Dean’s voice startles him out of the book he’s reading. He stands up, a million things that could have gone wrong racing through his imagination at top speed.

“Dean. Is everything alright?”

He waves a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, no worries. Me, Sam and Jack are gonna watch Jurassic Park. You wanna join us?”

Castiel wrinkles his nose. He’s seen stills from that movie, and those plus the references Dean has made to it over the years make it sound like an inaccuracy-riddled insult to the beautiful creatures he once watched over.

But Cas has never been one to refuse time with his family, so he follows Dean through the bunker’s halls and takes a seat next to Jack on the sofa.

Sam passes him a bowl of popcorn.

“You made it!” he says, looking uncharacteristically relaxed. It’s… nice.

“Of course,” Castiel says, passing the popcorn to Jack’s eager hands and returning the boy’s smile. He’ll enjoy it more than Cas will. He cares much more about the people than the snacks or the film, anyway.

He takes in Sam’s easy smile again, and the calm in Dean’s posture where he stands preparing the DVD. Even Jack looks toward the blank television screen in excited anticipation, despite having learned by now not to trust Dean’s taste in cinema. Jack much preferred getting to explore films on his own, and Castiel was always thrilled to be included in his late night Netflix adventures.

He clears his throat, unsure why he’s so nervous. He does like dinosaurs, after all. “So… you like this movie, right?”

“Hell yeah we do,” Dean says. “Sam and I watched it in theaters when it first came out. He wouldn’t shut up about velociraptors for months.”

“I was ten,” Sam protests, pink creeping across his cheeks. “Besides, it wasn’t even velociraptors. It was... dilophosaurus.” He’d trailed off into a barely audible mumble in his embarrassment, but it was still loud enough for Dean to hear.

“Oh, that’s right!” he laughs, eyes alight with the delighted gleam of a sibling collecting ammunition to tease with. “He’d sit in the library for hours searching for any mention of the damn thing. I always said he’d be better off with a T. Rex obsession like a normal kid, but no-o.”

Castiel leans over, nodding in Sam’s direction. “Well, I think dilophosaurus is a very good choice of favorite dinosaur.”

Sam looks surprised, and Jack, who’d been watching the conversation like a tennis match, looks to Cas directly.

“You know about dinosaurs?”

Castiel frowns, confused. “Yeah, of course I do.”

They’re cut off by Dean, who keeps talking as he’s sitting down on Jack’s other side with the remote control.

“Could’ve sworn we watched this one with you before, Cas. When we found it at that movie rental place in Minnesota, after that ghoul hunt?”

“We would’ve,” says Sam, tone caked in playful bitterness. “But you wanted to get Mars Attacks instead, remember?”

Dean looks a bit sheepish. “Hey, sometimes you need a good B movie after a day of ganking monsters. Today, though, we gotta get the kid another check off the list of Spielberg must-sees, right? Cas, too. We’ve waited long enough as is.”

Castiel has just enough time to hope once more that this movie is of a better quality than many of Dean’s other favorites, and then his thoughts are swept away by the opening sequence lighting up the television.

---

Jack enjoyed the movie immensely. He liked the scares and the way it made his heart beat faster. He liked the way Dr. Grant was so protective of the kids. Most of all, of course, he liked the dinosaurs.

He’d found a book about them the other day when he was cleaning in the library with Sam, and when Dean overheard their conversation he immediately suggested this movie.

Jack thought Cas would be just as interested in dinosaurs as he was, but the angel spent the whole movie with a frown on his face and a furrow between his eyes.

As the brothers stand up, Dean to turn on the lights and Sam to collect the empty snack bowls, Jack nudges Cas’ arm with his elbow.

“Are you okay?”

Cas meets Jack’s gaze with gentle eyes.

“I’m fine. I- I thought that the ending was a bit sad.”

Jack frowns. “How was it sad? Almost everyone got off the island.”

“That’s not…” Cas shakes his head, and takes a moment to compose himself before giving Jack a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me, Jack. It just made me remember when the dinosaurs died.”

Shocked silence falls upon the room like a fog. Jack knows he’s gaping in disbelief, and feels Sam and Dean doing the same.

Cas glances around, taking in everyone’s surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“Dude,” Dean says. “Did you… are you…”

“Were you really there when the dinosaurs died?” Sam manages, sounding strained.

Cas answers slowly, eyes narrowed. “Yes? It was very sad, but it was a long time ago. I’ve had time to mourn.”

“But you were there!” Dean repeats, dumbfounded. Cas continues staring.

“Yes, Dean, I was there.”

“I mean, what- what was it like?” Sam asks, wonder in his eyes.

“Well, um. It was hot. And fiery.”

“It was hot and fiery,” Dean says, broken record. “Wow.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you… why is this such a surprise? I thought the dinosaurs’ extinction was common knowledge.”

“Yeah, but talking to someone who saw it is… it’s amazing,” Sam says. If he wasn’t holding the butter-greased popcorn bowls, Jack is sure he would be gesturing every which way. “Why didn’t you tell us about it before?”

Cas blinks. “I didn’t know that you were interested. I thought if you wanted to know, you’d just ask me.”

“Dude. We didn’t know we could ask! I mean, we knew you were older than the pyramids, but the dinosaurs? That’s, what, fifty million years?”

“Sixty-five,” chime Sam and Jack, in unison.

“Wait a minute, how old do you think I am?”

That gives them pause. Jack exchanges hopeless glances with Sam and Dean, the three of them clambering for any exact number in the recesses of their minds. Jack draws a blank, both because Cas doesn’t really talk about his past and because time is a little twisted for him to begin with.

He knows he’s almost two, and that two years is not a long time, but to Jack it feels like forever.

He knows his mother was thirty-nine when she died, and he knows Sam and Dean are hovering somewhere near forty. Cas has lived millions of years, and though Jack can’t quite wrap his mind around that vast length of time, he knows that makes Cas near eternal. Like Jack’s supposed to grow up to be.

Oddly, it’s a comforting thought.

“How old are you?” He asks it to put an end to the silence, and because he’s realized he really wants to know the answer.

Cas hesitates, brow creasing in thought. “It’s hard to say. The first thing I really remember is the tiktaalik, so I suppose that makes me…”

“Holy shit,” Sam breathes. He must know what the tiktaalik is, Jack thinks. He’ll have to ask about it later.

“Three and a half billion. Approximately,” Castiel finishes.

Jack can almost hear Dean’s jaw hit the floor.

“That old, huh?” Dean asks. His voice is strained, and he sounds faint.

“I might be closer to four billion, actually,” Cas muses.

“Okay, whoa,” Sam interjects, before Dean’s brain melts entirely. “That’s… that’s really impressive, Cas.”

“I- really?”

“Yeah, man,” Dean manages. But Cas still doesn’t look convinced, so Jack speaks up.

“You’re prehistoric!” he says. “I think that’s really special.”

Cas takes a long moment to respond, inexplicably looking younger as he processes their praise. It’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders- like for the first time in eons he feels like the years behind him, drenched in blood and pain and regret as they are, can be a gift rather than a curse.

Sam and Dean clap Castiel on the shoulder and take their leave from the room, the elder brother murmuring something about “antique angels” as they go.

Jack steps closer to Cas, clearing his throat.

“I, um. I found a book about dinosaurs the other day. Dean said that this movie would be educational, but… I was wondering if you could tell me about them? I don’t think I learned very much.”

“I would be happy to.” Cas smiles, reaching out to squeeze Jack’s shoulder. “This film wasn’t very accurate, anyway.”

“Really? How?”

“Well, for one thing, most of those dinosaurs didn’t even live during the same millennium. And they weren’t nearly so lizard-like. They had feathers.”

Jack responds in kind, whispering conspiratorially: “Like birds?”

“Sort of. Come on, I’ll draw some for you.”

Jack follows his father out of the room, smiling from ear to ear. Though the full scope of Castiel’s age remains far beyond his comprehension, Jack thinks it’s incredible. With all those years behind him, it’s no wonder that Cas is such a good parent.

Time is a teacher, and Cas has had a long life in which to learn. He has so much wisdom to share- and it’s not all about the dinosaurs, not because of the things he’s seen or the battles he’s won.

No, Castiel shines brighter than the most beautiful of stars. It’s a brilliance that comes from the inside out, forged through fire and pain and a heart stronger than diamond no matter how many times it’s broken.

Castiel shines with four billion years of love.