#and i’m being human by being broken. so it’s whatever. and holy shit she’s maybe the best author in the world it’s really incredible

[queenie-ofthe-void]

The Babysitter Chronicles - Henderson

steve harrington and dustin henderson || 1.8k words || CWs: none || 5+1 Steve asks for permission to babysit the kids, and one time he's asked in return; post season 2 AU

~~~

This has been the worst week of Steve’s life.

Not only does Nancy think he’s bullshit, he found out she never actually loved him, she cheated on him, and she partially blames him for Barb’s death.

He was almost eaten alive by alternate dimension monster demodogs, almost died at the hands of Billy fucking Hargrove, almost died in the backseat of Billy’s car, and then almost died again in the tunnels. 

He’s pretty sure he has a serious concussion and a broken nose. The stitches on his forehead are starting to itch. He’s had a migraine every day since, and there’s ringing in his ears.

Steve honestly thought he could put all of this Upside-Down shit behind him. Pack it away in a tiny box and move on. Yet he was dragged into it once again, forced to protect kids he barely knows from both monsters and humans. 

He deserves to get paid for this shit, to be honest. 

He’s got no friends to sit with at lunch, no girlfriend to love him, and no parents at home to take care of him.

After spending the week at home alone, wallowing and recovering, he found himself thinking of the kids. It was the first time he felt anything other than misery and physical pain. But they were big, complicated emotions that he’s still untangling. He’s been able to pick out fear and anxiety, annoyance, exasperation, and– surprisingly– fondness. When he thinks of the kids, he’s hit with a surge of fierce protectiveness and devotion.

He’s got nothing to show for his life and no one to spend it with. Those kids, though, needed him in a way he’s never felt before. It was life or death, and they trusted him to keep them safe. Now that it’s over, even If he isn’t necessarily wanted, maybe he could at least continue being useful.

Which is how he finds himself pulling up to the same curb as he did a week ago. At least this time he’s not here about the Upside-Down; although, knowing Dustin, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Steve!” Dustin’s running out the front door and down the driveway in just a t-shirt and sweatpants despite the chilly November morning. He plows into his chest at full speed and almost sends them both toppling over. “Steve, holy shit you’re here! Oh shit your face.”

“Hey man, language ok?” Jesus, the mouth on this kid. “Relax twerp, ease up on the hug, you're killing my ribs.”

Dustin immediately drops his arms and backs away, looking cowed. Steve’s going to have to work on his approach, apparently the kid’s sensitive. Or maybe Steve’s still a bit of a bully, another part of himself that needs to be fixed.

“It’s ok, Dustin, don’t worry about it. Just a little sore still.”

He perks back up again, bouncing up and down on his heels. The little gremlin’s toothless smile is so damn cute Steve wants to give him a noogie. 

“Ok then,” Dustin replies, “so why are you here?”

“Uhhh, actually I’m here to talk to your mom.” Feeling suddenly awkward, Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. He hisses as it pulls on his stitches.

“My mom?” he asks, incredulously. “Why? What’s going on?”

Steve supposes he should’ve thought of this. It makes more sense to talk with Dustin before actually asking his mom for permission, but he hadn’t practiced this part. Now here he is, facing down an over-dramatic middle schooler and he’s actually nervous about it.

“Yeah, I kind of noticed you’re an only child, and you don’t really have a dad around.”

Dustin’s face falls, morphing into a scowl. Shit, Steve’s barely said one word and he’s already messing this up.

“Not all of us have rich parents who buy us whatever they want,” the kid huffs, crossing his arms and kicking non-existent rocks.

“No wait, ok look I’m sorry Dustin, that’s not what I meant. I’m not really great at talking about stuff like this. The important stuff anyways. Let me try again. Please?”

The kid’s still scowling, but his body relaxes a bit and he nods.

“Ok I’ll start over,” Steve continues. “Even though we were dealing with all of the Upside-Down shit and it was literally the worst week of my entire life, I enjoyed having you around. I’d sleep better at night if I knew you twerps are safe and I know you don’t really have anyone around other than your mom and the other gremlins–”

“The Party.”

Steve stares at him, mouth hanging open as he’s cut off mid-sentence. He’s in the middle of pouring his heart out to this mouthy ten year old and he’s got the audacity to interrupt him.

“The what now?”

“The Party, Steve.” The little shit’s tone is overflowing with condescension. “The group. We’re called the Party. You know, like in DnD?”

“What the hell is a dandy?”

“You, kind of,” Dustin mutters under his breath. Steve doesn’t really know what that means and coming from this kid he probably doesn’t want to. “D and D stands for Dungeons and Dragons, Steve. It’s a role playing game.”

“Whoa, alright I think you’re a little too young to be playing role playing games.”

“I’ve literally been playing for three years.”

“You’ve been roleplaying since you were seven?”

“I’m thirteen Steve!” He’s pretty sure Dustin’s screeching can be heard from the other side of town. “What are we even talking about right now? Why are you here, at my home, looking for my mom?”

“I want to be your goddamned babysitter!” Steve screams back. He takes a deep breath– in and out. This kid’s going to be the death of him, he just knows it.

He looks down to find Dustin’s eyes wide and mouth formed in a perfect oval. The kid’s shocked, either from what Steve said or that he literally shouted it in his face. Now it’s Steve’s turn to kick rocks. He shuffles back and forth, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them from tugging his hair again.

“You guys almost died, man,” Steve says softly, avoiding eye contact. It makes this part easier. “You almost died, and if I hadn’t been there, I have no idea what would’ve happened. Maybe you all would’ve been fine, I don’t know. But it was my job to keep you safe, and you don’t have anyone else around except your mom and the grem– I mean the Party– to look out for you. I had to quit basketball thanks to Billy, and Nancy broke up with me. My parents are literally never home, so I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands. Figure I could use some of that time keeping you out of trouble.”

Dustin’s face hasn’t changed, still devoid of any emotion other than shock. God damnit, Steve really messed this up. He looks around and rubs the back of his neck. His skin’s prickling with nerves as he starts to sweat and he takes a step backwards towards the safety of his car. 

This was a stupid idea. Why would any of these kids want anything to do with him? He’s nothing like them: smart, nerdy, can save the world without taking a beating. Steve thought he could be useful, worthwhile to someone– to Dustin. He should know better by now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just going to go,” Steve says. But as he turns to leave, Dustin slams into him once more. Steve’s breath whooshes from his lungs and a lightning strike of pain travels up his back. He thinks he’s shaking from the pain, except his crewneck is starting to feel damp against the kid’s face and he can see Dustin’s shoulders practically vibrating. “Hey, Dustin. Hey it’s ok, are you alright? What’s wrong man, talk to me.”

Dustin doesn’t look up, just keeps his face buried in Steve’s sweatshirt and grips him tighter. It hurts and it aches and it pulls at all of his injuries. He still lets Dustin hold on for as long as he needs to. 

There’s a slight movement out of the corner of his good eye, and he glances up towards the house to see a small, curvy woman smiling at them through the window. Not wanting to dislodge Dustin, he slightly lifts his hand to wave. He’s surprised when she honest to God clutches her heart and wipes what he assumes is a tear from her eye.

Steve’s already worried he screwed this whole thing up. He definitely didn’t think it would happen in front of a goddamned audience. 

The kid’s still holding on, but the shaking has subsided and he’s breathing easier. Steve smashes his hat to ruffle his hair, and Dustin backs off with a shriek. His face is covered in red blotches matching his bloodshot eyes. Steve looks down at his sweatshirt to find a tears-snot-spit wet patch stained into his chest.

“Dude, gross,” Steve huffs. At least he’s wearing an undershirt. Dustin just chuckles. 

“Like friends?” Dustin asks, still wiping at his face. “I wouldn’t mind, you know, hanging out. Whenever you’re not busy, I mean.”

It’s Steve’s turn to feel a burn behind his eyes. Relief fills him with warmth as his growing anxiety is washed away. Dustin wants him around. He wants to spend time with him and Steve never really thought he’d get this far. All he had was a half-baked idea to serve himself up for the one thing he knows he’s good for. And he was wanted.

He reaches out and pulls the kid back in for a hug, holding him tight despite the pain. Dustin starts trying to push off, so Steve flips him around under his armpit in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles roughly into the top of Dustin’s hat as he starts to screech again. He huffs, straightening out his hat, still sporting that iconic toothless smile. 

“Now,” Steve says, “all I have to do is ask your mom.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dustin replies, turning around to lead Steve towards the house. He sees the curtains pulled roughly shut and the silhouette of the woman heading toward the front door. “She already knows all about you. I told her what happened. Well, the government version.”

“You told your mom about me?” Steve asks in awe.

“Duh, why wouldn’t I? Sure, you got your ass handed to you, but it was totally awesome!”

“Right,” Steve scoffs. He’ll let that one slide for now. “You’re sure she won’t mind?”

“Mom’s going to love you. She’s been asking about you all week.”

If she’s anything like her son, then hopefully Steve’s got nothing to worry about. And maybe if he can watch one kid, he can talk to the rest of their parents– look after the whole Party of gremlins. He can host after school hangouts and movie nights, sleepovers in the living room and pool parties in the summer. There’s the beginnings a plan forming in his head, which parents and kids he needs to talk to next. 

When he’s met with Mrs. Henderson’s warm smile, he thinks maybe the rest of this year will be alright.

~~~

2. Mayfield (pt 1) || ao3

[bi-leth-eisner]

I know this ain't a discourse place but there's a trend I've noticed in the 3..H fandom that I think needs a bit of a vent/discussion.

We've seen how the fandom engages in bi-erasure by claiming bisexual characters like YKB, Dorothea, Mercedes, etc are lesbians, but there's another uncomfortable bi-erasure that I've noticed: the bi-racial erasure.

I've seen this when it comes to Byleth and Claude especially: people supporting Byleth rejecting their Nabatean/Goddess heritage and embracing humanity in C///////F and then framing it as them "rejecting their destiny". And likewise people wishing Claude would reject their Fodlan side and fully embrace their Almyran heritage or even wish that he was full Almryan along with wanting to change his eye color.

It goes without saying this type of mindset is disgusting and to see the fandom embrace this almost unironically is just sad.

the bisexual erasure just makes me sad, don’t get me wrong. like, as a bisexual person, it just sorta hurts after a while. but the more pressing issue, to me at least... the race stuff. (i’d just like to preface that i am not mixed - fully Inuk, rather - but holy shit it’s still fucking racist to say “i wish this character wasn’t mixed race” even if they would go from half-poc-half-white to fully a poc)

i’ve said it already, but i won’t stop until it’s heard: i’m just gonna assume you’re actually straight up just racist if you think the Nabateans need to die because they aren’t seen as human, or aren’t human enough for you.

Byleth being half mortal, half Nabatean, but not “fully human” until they’re rid of their Nabatean half according to these See Eff people really discomforts me. why is someone of the race that founded the Empire, which split off into the entire continent of Fódlan (and therefore has been there from the very start,) only seen as a heartless beast? and why are people who are even just associated with her to blame as well? they’ve gone into hiding (their identities at least) so their bones wouldn’t be harvested like the rest of their race, their home was essentially made entirely unsafe for them for a thousand years. put yourself in their shoes. imagine having to hide who you really are so you wouldn’t be killed like your loved ones were. imagine never being able to see them again and being constantly reminded of their deaths because of the Crests - which is their blood - and the Relics - their bones, which are STILL MOVING. they’re just trying to survive after tragedy after tragedy that befell them. their goal isn’t to Rule Over Humanity, they want their goddess back, because maybe she’ll be able to make everything better. their world fell to ruin as she was killed, after all. i won’t go into why this is important for me (i’ve done so once already,) but i’m tired of people seeing Ms. Emperor dehumanising the Nabateans as a “good thing, actually.” it’s fucking not. it can make real life people who relate to them for whatever reason feel unsafe.

which brings us to Byleth “defying their destiny.” Sothis is gone after she fuses with Byleth and there’s no way to ever get her back again. the story cannot progress until Sothis is gone for good. Sothis was never meant to come back. Byleth’s destiny to be the goddess reincarnated was broken right then and there, since they’re unable to do much other than do what Sothis granted them: turning back time, of which use is very limited. they do not have the power to raise or entirely tear apart land or sea or sky or anything of the sort. so what they do afterwards is wholly up to them. (i’m of the firm belief that See Eff isn’t canon at all here.)

Rhea comes to accept that Byleth isn’t Sothis, nor will they ever be (in Silver Snow, which i see as the most canon route.) she knows then that Byleth is their own person. so their life is up to them, not some destiny.

and some people wanting Claude to be fully Almyran is something i can certainly understand, however... forgive me, i’m not a Claude expert by any means, but... isn’t him being mixed race a huge and important part of his character and route? him wanting everyone on BOTH sides of his family to accept each other instead of needlessly fighting each other? wanting to fix relations with each other and everyone else? his Fódlan half is just as important, for lack of a better word, as his Almyran half...

[asset35-maya]

MANMADE FATE

Summary: Connor and Gavin find an unresponsive RK900 android in an abandoned Cyberlife warehouse and take him home to fix. (Not so subtle plot twist: both of them fall in love with their secret science project)

//

PART ONE OF THREE:

The crew from Jericho led a successful revolution but there’s still a lot of work to be done. Markus may have won human hearts and gotten the federal government to back down, but Cyberlife is still at large.

Sure, hundreds of androids at the Tower escaped to march on the streets behind Connor, but that was just a little dent in the big machine. Cyberlife has tons of intellectual property and assets that could easily put them back in power.

Simon and Markus insist they can work with the authorities to regulate and ring-fence the massive corporation. Josh agrees. North laughs in their faces.

She goes to find the only other Jericho member who still has any grit left.

Connor.

The daring, brazen RK800 who stared down death and spat in the face of destruction. He blinks at her in polite confusion when she tells him what she wants to do, but the fiery LED tells her everything she needs to know.

They hatch plans behind Markus’ back. They steal and stockpile biocomponents. They sneak into the Tower to encrypt Cyberlife’s R&D files with codes that only RK algorithms can break. A few other Tracis join them and they slowly start gaining an edge.

Their schemes start getting grander and one night something goes wrong. North is shot.

Connor carries her to the only safe place he knows other than his stasis pod in Hank’s dilapidated garage. The DPD Central Station.

It’s way past midnight. It’s deathly quiet. Connor is sure no one will see them, and he can easily tamper with the security cameras.

What he doesn’t bank on is the over-caffeinated loser still bent over his desk in the bullpen.

A noise from the archive room breaks through the quiet. Quelling his fear of the supernatural, Gavin stands up shakily and goes to investigate. He flips on the light and sees blue everywhere.

Connor is bent over a badly damaged Traci and three other girls with identical tear-streaked faces are on their knees beside her.

Chocolate brown eyes meet storm green beseechingly, their rivalry forgotten in that moment of desperation.

Before he realizes it, Gavin is moving. He takes several packs of thirium out of the fridge and grabs the Department’s toolkit, praying that whatever’s in there can help.

Old engineering knowledge kicks in and Gavin’s hands join Connor’s over the cracked chassis, pulling out damaged tubing and securing the leakages. It takes a while, but North is patched up. She first recoils in absolute terror at the human man hunched over her but regains composure at Connor’s touch… interface. She nods briefly to express her gratitude, somehow regal and intimidating even after being so vulnerable. Gavin decides he likes this proud and brave creature.

He drives them all back to his apartment for the night. They’ll take North to a technician first thing in the morning and get her back to New Jericho before Markus even notices. Adrenaline pumps through Gavin’s veins. He hasn’t felt a thrill like this in years, not since… not since…

“How did you know exactly where to put your hands?”

“Eh?”

“A layman would have broken that biocomponent trying to take it out.”

“You know I’m not exactly a layman.”

“I also know they don’t cover Cyberlife’s proprietary designs in engineering school.”

Gavin stays quiet. Connor puts a hesitant hand on his shoulder, poised to jump away immediately should the detective revert to his usual self.

“Thank you. For everything you just did for us. I don’t know how to repay-”

“I want in.”

“What?”

“Whatever you’re doing. I can help.”

Connor cocks his head. His LED goes berserk.

They make a great team. Gavin and Connor. North’s best men. Who the fuck would have thought. Breaking into high-security locations using police databases and surveillance resources. Covering for each other during extended absences from work. They start to take down Cyberlife in a such a precise manner, it’s almost surgical. The dissection of a multibillion dollar business.

Gavin has an intimate understanding of android technology and an even closer intuition of Cyberlife’s overall strategy. Connor thinks he understands why. There’s an undeniable resemblance between the only two men on earth whose motivations evade his understanding. But of course it’s just a coincidence that Elijah Kamski and Gavin Reed have the same jawline... facial structure... voice.

Connor says nothing... and Gavin is quietly thankful for that. And the chance to finally live the kind of exciting life he dreamt of since he was a little boy. To make a real difference. Just as he wanted to before it all went wrong.

Somewhere along the way, they grow close. Gavin and Connor. Two rival cops turned vigilante comrades turned something else... It’s hard to pinpoint when exactly it happened... perhaps sometime between the cup of coffee placed tentatively on Gavin’s desk the morning after North's near-fatal injury and the heated kiss they dragged each other into after a particularly dangerous mission.

North is unsurprised. She doesn’t bat an eye when the usually unruffled RK800 shows up to planning meetings shirtless and disheveled. Her lips even twist into a little smile as he drapes himself slovenly over the only human at the table.

Things fall into a pattern. A good one. Several months from where they started, Cyberlife share prices have fallen to an all time low and other tech enterprises have begun to move in, circling the troubled company like sharks. If North’s next heist goes to plan, the last shred of IP that brands Cyberlife as a robotics company will be out in the public domain for all to take.

 She is rapturous as she swings in through the broken window and rolls into a crouched position. Gavin and Connor follow her cautiously through the abandoned warehouse, weapons drawn and eyes roving. 

“What the fuck!” 

Connor throws a protective arm in front of Gavin, shielding him with his chassis. But North’s cry was merely one of disappointment. 

“Shit! We wasted so much effort. There’s nothing here!”

Where they had expected to find a secret server room or a high-tech vault containing the crux of Cyberlife’s groundbreaking designs... was a single android storage pod. North restrains herself from kicking it in frustration. She gestures harshly at it before leaving in a huff. 

“It’s occupied. Wake them up, Connor, whoever they are. It’s still our duty to set free any androids we find.”

Gavin tries to catch her arm in a conciliatory gesture but she shakes the human off easily. He shrugs at Connor and inclines his head at the android in the pod. Unfortunately, North’s annoyance has brushed off on the RK800. He glares through the broken window the Jericho leader has just jumped out of.

“Don’t you think she bosses me around a little too much?”

Gavin sighs and walks over to the pod, looking for the latches to open it. His boyfriend has a problem with authority... and so has he to be honest.

“Better her than Fowler, dontcha think?” 

“Hmmpff. At least Fowler doesn’t lead us on wild goose chases.”

“Come on, babe. None of us saw this coming. We really thought this was it. Maybe we’re at a decoy location? Let’s go back to the drawing board after we wake this guy... or girl up.” 

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who just scaled a building for nothing.” 

Gavin shakes his head as he smiles to himself. It’s true. Even the worst days with North’s crew are better than his best days at the DPD. Maybe it’s because he’s finally doing what he was born for. Using the knowledge and skills that practically run through his veins. Maybe its the man by his side.

He gets the pod open and steps sideways to avoid the swing of the door, and freezes.

“Babe.”

No response.

“Dipshit.”

“Hmm. Give me a second.” 

“Take a minute. You’re going to want to brace yourself for this one.”

The android lying peacefully within the pod is a stranger with a face entirely too familiar to Gavin. A face he was just looking at. A face he’d recognize anywhere, even without skin.

“Are their battery levels- holy shit.”

Connor’s LED spins faster and faster as he registers the sight.

“I thought there were no surviving RK800s apart from you and that grumpy SWAT guy Sixty.” 

“This... this isn’t an RK800.” 

Connor traces the serial number printed on the android’s cheekbone. RK900. 

“Shit. Did you know this model existed?” 

“No, did you?”

Gavin shakes his head. He hadn’t been privy to Cyberlife’s inner decision-making for nearly fifteen years, but he always answered Connor’s persistent questioning without losing patience. Honesty was what kept them together despite the hundreds of reasons to fight and fall apart.

“What should we do? If he’s your successor, I’m not sure waking him up is the safest thing for you to do...”

“We can’t leave him here, Gav. He’s probably been here from before the Revolution. That’s more than a year of being in a box. It’s not... fair...” 

“He’s not deviant, babe. We don’t know what his programming is like.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can turn him.”

Gavin sees the look in Connor’s eyes and knows he’s made up his mind already. He steps aside, hand flitting to the holster on his waist. 

Connor takes an unnecessary breath and reaches for RK900′s forearm with his synth skin retracted. His fingers hover over the motionless android for a moment and then he makes contact. Gavin tenses. 

Nothing happens. The RK900′s LED remains unlit. There is no sign of life.

The couple look at each other automatically. Their instinctive reaction when the inexplicable occurs. 

“Is he-”

“No, I don’t see any damage. I think he’s never been activated. Not even for quality testing.” 

“Did you see a request for manual code input? Did any interface pop up at all?” 

“I can only see that his power systems are functioning.” 

“And his thirium pump?” 

“Not active. No compressions at all.”

Connor presses both his palms down on the RK900′s face. Still nothing. He looks up, defeated, with a furrow forming between his brows.

“Help.”

Gavin scratches at his stubbled chin. He peers closer. The perfect face is so calm. So familiar. So... magnetic? His apprehension is replaced by intrigue.

“Huh. Okay. I could take a look... but I don’t wanna try using the computer set-up here. Can’t take a chance... leave any traces...”

“We could take him home.”

Storm green eyes lock with chocolate brown. There’s something in the depths of each pair that’s mirrored in the other. 

It’s foolish. It’s a waste of time. It’s a risk. North would probably smack the two of them if she knew. 

But the night ends with them gently lowering the unconscious android onto the squashy sofa in Gavin’s living room.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 287: Family Reunion

Previously on BnHA: The Tomura For One VS Deku And Pals clusterfuck reached new levels of clustfuckery as AFO possessed Tomura’s body and stabbed Kacchan and Endeavor. Shouto was all “good thing I leveled up offscreen so as to be able to fly around whilst carrying 400lbs worth of people”, and did just that and it was like, damn, son. Meanwhile Deku’s rage went Mach 100, and he kicked Tomura’s ass for almost two whole seconds, but in the process he apparently forgot that IF TOMURA TOUCHES HIM THAT IS VERY BAD, and so he stupidly let Tomura touch him and Tomura was all “GAME, SET.” Fortunately for Deku, his quirk plays by its own rules, and so the chapter ended with us cutting to the METAPHYSICAL OFA/AFO PARANORMAL DREAMSCAPE OF MYSTICAL BULLSHIT, where AFO!Vestige was all “lol Tomura y u mad”, and Nana!Vestige was all “SUP DEKU, YOU’RE JUST IN TIME, LOOKS LIKE IT’S ASSKICKING O’CLOCK.” I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s more or less the gist of it.

Today on BnHA: AFO is all “well if it isn’t Tomura’s grandmother who I murdered that one time”, and Deku is all “?”, and AFO is all “fucking vestiges, man, wild”, and Deku is all “??”, and AFO is all “ANYWAYS GETTIM TOMURA”, and OFA is all “NOT SO FAST”, and Deku is all “???”, and really, same. AFO then goes off on some wild tangent about how Deku is unworthy because he couldn’t protect everyone and needed help from OFA and got mad about his friends being stabbed, which is such a cold take it gave me hypothermia, but it ends up not mattering since Deku and Tomura both wake up seconds later with OFA still in the possession of its rightful owner, HOW ABOUT THAT. The chapter ends with the LoV approaching on Gigantomachia’s back with Dabi practically salivating at the mouth, and Toga trying to reignite an old fandom blood feud. Toga why would you do this to me. Toga.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

[CROWD LOSING THEIR MINDS] FINALLY THE NANA HAS COME BACK TO BNHA!! IF YA SMELLLLL WHAT THE NANA IS COOKIN!!!!! [RINGSIDE BELL CHIMING WILDLY] [LOUD AIRHORN NOISES]

“chapter 287: mistake” omg. yeah I’ll say you made a mistake, AFO. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE FLEETING LAST MOMENTS OF YOUR SHITTY EVIL LIFE

(ETA: so in all seriousness this must be referring to AFO’s belief that All Might/OFA made a mistake in choosing Deku, right? “I can’t believe you went and chose this shounen manga protagonist as your champion, what were you thinking.” I’ll just put this out there: however many comic books AFO read as a child, it clearly was not enough.)

wow Deku how slow are you

yes you’re inside OFA you dimbulb, did you think your clothes suddenly vanished out of the blue and the ghost of Nana just randomly appeared in the real world by some freak coincidence?? can you believe this kid. breaks his arms a measly 10-15 times in a row and all of a sudden he can’t think straight, get it together Deku

but also brb having a moment at the fact that his thoughts immediately run back to Kacchan, even with all of this nonsense going on and Nana about to lay the beatdown on AFO’s potato-lookin’ ass. forget that noise, all he wants to know is whether or not Kacchan is all right. fuckin’ geez. AM I OVERREACTING HERE A BIT. probably

(ETA: ALSO!! the way he just trails off!! “Kacchan is...” and then he can’t bring himself to complete the thought. oh my god my heart.)

HOLY SHIT

okay,

damn but this man sure knows how to ruffle my feathers. as eminently detestable as ever!!

could it be any clearer here that AFO is not on Tomura’s side?? for a moment I thought he had actually grabbed him by the back of the head in order to get him to look. but nope, he’s just resting his pointing hand on top of his head instead while he’s all “HEY TOMURA LOL IT’S THE GHOST OF YOUR DEAD PATHETIC GRANDMA”

for those keeping track at home, this would be the first time that Deku has heard this information -- that Tomura is Nana’s grandson -- and possibly the first time Vestige!Nana has heard it as well. Nana died when Kotarou was still a child, so for all we know the Vestige!Nana didn’t even know she had a grandson, lol. TODAY ON “MAKESTE RANTS AT LENGTH ABOUT THINGS THAT WILL PROBABLY BE ADDRESSED WITHIN THE NEXT THREE PANELS”, anyway moving on

lmao for the record I fucking LOLed at this giant question mark immediately bubbling up over Deku’s head

no idea what AFO is about to ramble on about now, haven’t read that far yet. but let the record show that Deku’s immediate reaction to hearing “BTW NANA IS YOUR ARCHNEMESIS’S GRANDMA LULZ” is everything I could have hoped for

(ETA: fandom nailed the shit out of this one with the confused Mr. Krabs meme lmao.)

okay so now AFO is monologuing at length about how he would sometimes have “riveting dreams” about the previous owners of all the quirks he stole. but once he gave the quirks away they stopped bothering him?? holy moly let me just take all the notes

okay so he’s saying that Vestiges are created whenever someone has their quirk stolen by AFO. but if they then disappear when he gives the quirks away, does that also mean that whoever receives the quirks also gets the original owner’s Vestige bundled in every time?? that would be wild okay hold up let me read the rest of this

so he’s saying that the Vestiges are actually the “consciousnesses” of the original quirk owners, which have become embedded in their dna or something. SOUNDS INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS TO ME LOL but on the other hand this is a world where children can be born with airplane heads, so my disbelief can hardly afford to pick and choose what it’s gonna be suspended at! anyways though, how does he know he’s the only one who was able to converse with them? did you conduct detailed six-month follow-up interviews with everyone you gave quirks to or what

and if it really is the case that this ability was formerly exclusive to him, isn’t that more evidence than ever that OFA and AFO are actually THE EXACT SAME QUIRK oh whoops am I getting ahead of myself again, sorry

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS ALL, “GRANDMA?”

“WHY AM I HERE, WELL LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, GRANDSON. YOU SEE THAT MAN GROWING OUT OF YOUR RIBCAGE THERE? WELL IT’S JUST THE FUNNIEST THING, ACTUALLY”

WAIT SO IS HE SAYING THEY’RE SOULS OR NOT??

this makes it sound like they won’t ever get to rest, which sure sounds like a soul thing to me. well whatever, soul, consciousness, I guess it’s just semantics at the end of the day

anyways though, so this asshole is finally done talking (I’m sure that won’t last), so now we can finally have the heartwarming reunion we’ve all been waiting for

sigh

-- actually, no, not “sigh”!! you know what!! because Tomura says “whatever the reason”, but that’s only because he doesn’t actually have a fucking clue about the reason. like, I don’t know if the knowledge that AFO killed Nana would be enough to give him pause, but if he knew the whole story and knew that AFO was behind not only Nana’s death, but the rest of his family’s deaths as well... now that would be a whole different thing

anyway. but at least it’s becoming clearer now why AFO spent all that time raising Tomura up as his heir and brainwashing him even though he seems to have been planning this body takeover the whole time. it’s all because he loves making people miserable! yaaaaay

btw HAS NANA HAD THE EXACT SAME MOLE ON HER CHIN AS TOMURA THIS ENTIRE TIME WTF. am I just the least observant person who ever lived lmao

lol wtf

ground: [randomly starts exploding]

Deku: “ONE FOR ALL IS BEING ERODED!!!” LOL IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE, OKAY THEN. I’ll take your word for it

y’all I cannot fucking get over this “AFO growing out of Tomura’s hip socket like a fucked-up ventriloquist dummy” shit though

you do realize that absolutely no one can take you seriously right now, right?? it’s important to me that you know this

WHAT’S THIS NOW

seems like SOMEONE has had it up to here with a certain SOMEONE ELSE’S bullshit lmaooo bye Felicia

I SAID GOOD DAY!!

you guys why is he not dying!!

-- OH DAMN

love how Deku is just lying there like “YOU KNOW THOSE DAYS WHERE YOU’RE LIKE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.” poor Deku

(ETA: where in god’s name is OFA Prime standing. why are my thoughts fully consumed by this lmao.)

are Nana and OFA Prime even doing anything?? why are they sticking their arms out like that. wait hold up is this all a big metaphor for the back-and-forth going on between Tomura trying to steal OFA and OFA being all “actually no you can’t, please enter your password and click on all the boxes with bicycles in them to prove you’re a human first”?

OH SNAP OFA PRIME SAID NO THANKS

“SORRY BRO WE’VE ALREADY MADE OURSELVES AT HOME HERE”

I have only just noticed that metaphysical!Deku has the same scars as actual!Deku. and yet his arms are not currently broken! that doesn’t really seem consistent to me but whatever!! maybe he saved right before the boss battle, that would be smart of him

anyway, that’s great and all that OFA Prime is here helping out, but I really wanted to see Nana fight AFO in a one on one though so I’m a bit disappointed. also why is it only the two of them?? where are Banjou and the others. of all the times to be sleeping on the job

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THIS MAN

WOULD YOU STOP. WOULD YOU JUST QUIT IT ALREADY

oh shit hold up

doesn’t this confirm that the reason he wanted to transfer his power to Tomura is because he believed it would make him strong enough to finally take OFA because of Quirk Singularity? jesus christ. and here he was so sure of himself. but it turns out he doesn’t actually know shit! you can’t just fucking take OFA like that ya dingdong that’s not how it works

(ETA: SO, A THOUGHT -- is there any sort of subtle hinting here in the way that he words this? “if your strength is combined with mine”, as opposed to “if my strength is combined with yours”? no idea if the admittedly-so-small-as-to-be-almost-inconsequential distinction between those two sentences exists in the original Japanese or not, but I find it very interesting that the English wording implies that he’s the one adding Tomura’s strength to his own, rather than vice versa.)

now he’s insulting Deku!!

excuse me sir WHO ASKED YOU anyway. and never mind that being consumed by an, AND I QUOTE, “unquenchable” rage is your protege’s whole THING, and that he also needed your help to avoid being burned to a crisp a short while ago. where do you get off I swear

(ETA: also just want to point out that in the panel before this one he says that he’s been “watching through Tomura”, which pretty much confirms that his consciousness or whatever is alive inside of him all the time. Tomura is definitely not getting rid of this guy any time soon.)

WOW

first he calls Kacchan useless, then he calls Deku a simpleton, and don’t even get me started with Nana. just, you guys. this man is just... a very, very rude man

NOW OFA IS ALL “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES HIM SUCH A GOOD PROTAGNIST YOU BUTTMUNCH” AND OMG PREACH

“DESPITE HIS COMMON SENSE” sdfkllk my man he already has one brother roasting him, take it easy guy

AHH WHAT

IS THIS BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

YEP

hahaha nice try Tomura

so Deku’s all “I didn’t lose my power! BUT” and I assume the “but” is the part where his arms are still broken and shit, and meanwhile Tomura’s body is almost healed up now finally

they’re both wiped out and now AFO is again petitioning Tomura to let him take over goddammit

“you won’t lose your mind” yep, he sure won’t! scout’s honor!! pinky swear!!

meanwhile Deku is getting fucking desperate flkjl;k my baby. and Machia is going to show up any second now too, probably. what else can fucking go wrong at this point

oh shit I shouldn’t have asked

get ready to rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuumble, probably

OH MY GOD

WELL AT LEAST SOMEONE HERE IS HAVING A GOOD TIME. jesus

so as soon as he heard Endeavor was there he got all, “TIME FOR THE BIG REVEAL”, is that right? WELL JOKE’S ON YOU TOUYA, YOUR DAD DOESN’T SEEM ALL THAT CONSCIOUS AT THE MOMENT, SO THAT’S GOING TO DRAIN A LOT OF THE TENSION FROM THE SCENE WHEN YOU GO ALL REVERSE DARTH VADER ON HIM AND HE’S ALL “ZZZZZZZZ”

meanwhile Toga is having unsettlingly quiet angst

jesus christ Toga this is all we need right now

“WAS JIN-KUN NOT A PERSON” sdkfjlk Horikoshi I swear. please have mercy on this fandom. this is the debate that refuses to die!!

but seriously ffs, the issue isn’t that Jin deserved to die, it’s that the countless people whom Jin would have either directly or indirectly killed didn’t deserve to die either. people don’t only become people when you attach names and faces to them! we all loved Jin because we’d gotten to know him, but that doesn’t mean his life was inherently worth more than the lives of all the people he would have killed. sometimes there’s just no good answer

like, it’s just crazy to me that because the heroes are all “we want to protect everyone!” but then aren’t always able to do so because that’s literally impossible, whereas the villains are all “we don’t care about anyone other than the select few people that we actually like!”, the villains somehow wind up getting the better PR. it just so happens that it’s infinitely easier to be loyal to the interests of a few people as opposed to ALL THE PEOPLE. like, no shit, it’s easier to stick to your moral code when you barely have a moral code. and so the villains can kill thousands and no one bats an eye, but if a hero fails to save even one person they’re hypocritical moral failures. like what the hell

BUT ANYWAY, sorry to go off on a tangent there lol, it’s not really a big deal. I’m just preemptively trying to stave off more discourse about it lol but who am I even kidding

anyways lol, but of course they won’t kill you unless they have no choice, Toga. but when it comes to catch-22 situations, it’s a bit much to infer that the heroes don’t consider the villains people just because they opt for the choice that spares more innocent lives. I sure as hell don’t want my babies out here killing people, but to say that they can’t no matter what or else they’re no different from the villains is just...

anyway so the chapter has now just ENDED, just like that!! on a shot of Ochako’s face!

I SENSE ANOTHER THROWDOWN COMING. and it had better not be a total letdown like the last one! NANA BARELY DID ANYTHING HORIKOSHI, WHAT THE FUCK. I started out with such high hopes lol

but I will settle for Toga VS Ochako, and Deku VS Tomura: The Sequel: Shouto’s Revenge! SPEAKING OF HEROES WHO HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT MURDERING PEOPLE lmao

[captcas]

Trucks, Tenders, and Tying the Knot

Claire plays wingwomen for Uncle Cas while watching the trucks. Prompt from this tweet. read on ao3

Castiel is already planning the next six days in bed from a god awful migraine as the loud whir of what might be a front loader clashes with the sound of a jack hammer.

But Claire loves trucks.

And Castiel has the hardest time saying no to his six-year old niece so obviously— despite it being 90 degrees in the shade and the obnoxious amount of noise— they’re sitting outside watching a construction site.

Cas wishes he could say it wasn’t his best (only) option for his Saturday night. But, when Meg begged him for a night off, he didn’t even hesitate. He owes his adopted sister more than he’d care to admit and Claire really is one of his favorite humans.

So, again, they’re watching the trucks.

Pointing curiously at all the different types of trucks, Claire asks Cas to name them off, but Cas truly couldn’t guess the different names for these things if his life depended on it. At first he tried Googling the answers, but Claire’s patience waned so he started just making them up instead.

It’ll only be a problem for him once his adoptive-sister is fielding phone calls from kindergarten when Claire calls an Excavator a “Whoozitkabob”.

It’ll be very hard for Cas not to laugh.

After a while of watching the free (loud) show, Cas realizes it really is 90 degrees and they should probably be keeping hydrated.

This is why Castiel isn’t a parent.

They walk out of the nearby Starbucks a few minutes later, Cas with an iced coffee and Claire with her Vanilla Bean Frappuccino which Cas had to convince her was just a milkshake with a fancy name . He glances down at his niece who is now enthusiastically guzzling the beverage down as though she wasn’t almost in tears about it minutes prior.

Kids, man.

As they reapproach the construction site and their front row seats, Claire stops walking and Cas almost trips trying to stop with the same abruptness.

“Phewwww, I don’t know what he’s fixing but mines broken.” Cas chokes on his coffee before following her gaze to the man in question.

Damn.

“Claire— where did— nevermind—“ Cas knows where Claire heard that, his sister never being subtle with her sexual innuendos despite the impressionable nature of her kid. The most impressive part is Claire is… not wrong.

Flustered by the comment and whether he should tell her objectifying men is not a good look but also by his extreme want to objectify the same man that made Claire stop in her tracks, Castiel just stands there.

And then he stares.

Because damn.

He thinks Leonardo Da Vinci may have been a time traveler because when he described the perfect man he must have been talking about this man. Strong arms, broad chest, bow legs, sandy hair, a smile to power the Chrysler Building, freckles for day, and the greenest eyes Castiel has ever seen even from this far away. He’s dressed a little nicer than most of the workers so Castiel reasons that he must be the contractor or project lead but holy shit can he wear a flannel and jeans.

Tight jeans.

Maybe they can watch the trucks for a bit longer.

Before Castiel can realize what’s happening, Claire is pulling him in the direction of said man. As much as he knows he shouldn’t let a six-year-old wander toward an active construction site he also knows he would never have the guts to approach the man otherwise. He does a quick sweep to make sure there aren’t any Thingamahoozies around and that there’s a fence and decides they’re probably fine walking closer.

As long as his heart doesn’t beat straight out of his chest.

“Hey, Mister. Whatcha fixing?” Claire is yelling as she runs toward the guy who at first looks a little taken aback by the precocious child hurtling towards him but then he notices Cas and breaks into a wide smile that practically knocks Castiel onto the ground.

He reminds himself that the contractor is just happy this kid is supervised and that he is entirely imagining the way the man’s jaw slacked at the sight of Castiel.

Now that he’s drawn to them, Castiel knows he’ll be picturing those lips every time he closes his eyes for the foreseeable future.

The man is laughing and shaking Claire’s hand through the chain-link fence and Castiel realizes he’s staring again. He approaches the two of them, and apparently they’re fast friends, because Claire introduces him, “Oh, there you are. This is Dean!”

Dean .

Cas smiles what he hopes is a normal smile because he feels like he’s lost all control of himself being in this man– Dean’s presence. Somehow his brain tells him to reach out his hand and before he knows it, their fingers are intertwined and he’s speaking, “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel.”

Then he stares some more but maybe Dean doesn’t mind because he’s staring right back and it’s giving Castiel all the time in the world to study every fleck of gold etched into the summer green of this man’s eyes. In no time at all he moves onto the constellation of freckles that are patterning his cheeks which, if Castiel isn’t mistaken, are starting to red in a blush that may be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen– Claire aside.

Oh yeah, Claire.

Castiel reluctantly lets go of the man’s hand when Claire snaps them out of their trance, “We need you to fix whatever we’ve got broken.”

Oh, fantastic, now he’s mortified.

But Dean doesn’t bat an eye, in fact he throws his head back in laughter and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Castiel’s ears and he swears if he could he would spend a lifetime trying to hear that laugh everyday.

Dean glances at Castiel’s left hand– not subtle at all – and then looks towards Claire fondly, “Is that what your dad said?” Castiel doesn’t have time to focus on the fact Dean thinks Claire is his because if he thought his mind was reeling from Dean’s check of his marital status then it’s absolutely worthless when the man looks back towards him and winks.

Carve up his tombstone because Castiel is a goner.

Claire, apparently completely unaware of the absolute stupor she’s put her uncle in, continues chatting, “Oh, he’s not my dad, that’s my uncle, Cas.”

“Cas.” Dean looks like he’s mulling the nickname over like an award winning wine and then he smiles. “Well, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you and your uncle Cas.”

Claire beams before gasping loudly, “OH MY GOD, UNCLE CAS! IT’S A ZINGAMAHOOEY!”

Send that tombstone via express mail because Castiel just died of embarrassment.

Dean’s face screws into something too cute to be legal and he shoots a glance at Castiel, clearly looking for an explanation. Somehow Castiel finds words, “She kept asking what they were called and I’m clueless.”

Cas could swear Dean’s eyes twinkle before speaking again, “Well maybe I could teach you… uh… over dinner?”

“Oh yes please! I love chicken tenders!” Claire, apparently paying attention again, chimes in.

Cas is about to object but then Dean laughs again and says, “Of course! I know the best spot for chicken tenders.”

With Claire satisfied and looking again at the construction site, Dean looks back toward Cas with nervousness etched across his face, “Is— uh— I mean— if you want to..”

He can’t help but enthusiastically put the man out of his misery, “I’d love to.”

And they do.

A week later they’re munching on burgers and chicken tenders listening to Dean talk about all the different kinds of trucks and Claire try and tell him he’s wrong because Uncle Cas said.

And if Cas thought the night couldn’t have possibly gotten better, Dean drops off Claire first and walks him to the door and kisses him goodbye with the promise of another dinner— just them two.

Dean keeps his promise and a million promises... including the biggest promise of their lives with the tiniest Maid of Honor by their side.

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 6: Look Alive, Sunshine

summary: the three of you find more questions than answers and the start of a whole new fuckin' problem im so so so sorry

warnings: tw for gore, bloodshed, hurt/little comfort, angst, gunfight, etc

word count: 4,166 she’s a big bitch lol

read on ao3 here / masterlist

“Let’s look around,” Ellie said dejectedly.

Joel walked off on his own, giving the three of you some space. Ellie went through a door and walked down the hall to her right, following it.

The halls and rooms here were void of your previous allies, not a single soul seemed to be here but you could still make out traces of equipment and feel a semblance of sentimentality from your memories. Damned memories tickling at the edge of your mind.

You picked up some papers and read them quickly, hearing Ellie somewhere in another room asking if anybody is there and Joel off to your right in some other room shuffling around. There was still quite a bit of medical paperwork on the hopes of a cure, of somebody like Ellie coming by.

Unfortunately the research was only bits and pieces but you could catch an idea of a project involving infected monkeys. Suddenly you were startled as Ellie shouted, “Yoo-hoo! Fireflies! Cure for mankind over here! Anyone?”

Before you could tell her to stop, Joel reprimanded her. “Let’s keep it down until we figure out what’s going on.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw him savenging around, picking up remnants of med kits, gears, even forgotten bullets and tools. Idly you think hJoel has the right idea and go off searching around too, pocketing the rest of the papers to finish reading them later.

The three of you continue looking quietly until coming to the conclusion there’s not much here.

“You sure this is where they’d be,” Joel asks you.

“Positive. That room over there was my uncle’s office,” you pointed towards an open door. “They must have pushed back further into the building.”

Ellie was the first to walk down a hall, finding it leading across to a landing with elevators and stairs. The man stayed behind for a beat, eyeing you. Likely second-guessing your motioves. Eventually he turned and walked away, following the teen. At the center of it all were large black containers and she kneeled in front of an open one and began to read, Joel joining her in flipping through the papers.

“Nothing useful,” Ellie states, throwing the papers down a bit more harshly than necessary.

“Ain’t nothin’ here but a bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo.”

You reach for some of the books and a binder and flip through them quickly too, noting some words about failed specimens and subjects not surviving an experiment until ultimately being harvested. Whatever they were doing wasn’t going well and they seemed to be feeling the weight of morality on their shoulders. There was an entry logged by some Doctor Anderson about feeling conflicted about torturing humans and questioning if it was worth it.

Shutting the binder quickly and throwing it in your backpack to finish reading it later, your mental dialog cut short as Ellie sighed heavily, “I don’t get it.”

“Looks like they all just packed up and left in a hurry, unless you got a better idea?”

Before you could answer, a loud metallic bang hit from the floor above the three of you. Ellie and Joel looked at each other before she said a bit grimly, “Maybe not all of ‘em left.”

“Stay close,” Joel commanded.

The stairs up to the third floor was behind Ellie and she went up first as you finished zipping up your backpack and tossing it on.

The floor above was more or less the same, open to the central garden in the middle of the building, objects in disarray, out of use vending machines that you’re pretty positive you used to pry open to steal sodas from. All this, but no Fireflies.

Joel went through a door on the left, probably scavenging for more things to find whereas you and Ellie went the scenic route on the outside corridor.

“What do you think happened?”

“Considering they had enough time to pack up research,” you pointed at some boxes, “they must have left willingly.” You shuffled through some more papers, looking for a clue. “But the question is, why leave?”

Ellie walked inside a door and followed the path of some wires that lead to an old flood light, “There are no bodies. That’s good, right?”

“If we find out where they went,” came Joel’s voice from behind you two.

You followed Ellie down the hall, peering into rooms and broken windows to your left. Suddenly there was another noise coming from behind and when the three of you turned, the very same flood light you’d all passed knocked over, lying prone on the ground.

“Shit,” Joel whispered.

“Um… So it’s probably clickers, right?”

You flashed Ellie a look, “Not the time.”

“Right.”

You all held your breath for a few moments, trying to listen until Joel broke the silence, answering Ellie. “No. Clickers don’t hide.”

He looked at you, giving you a once-over, likely weighing the possibility of you betraying him. You responded in kind expression, silently telling him to give whatever plot he has in mind a try.

Wary old bastard, you thought. As if you’d pull a stunt this far into your mission together, even after he began to act lukewarm to your presence.

You took the lead down a tarp covered hall, not really remembering this area much. They probably did push up to these higher levels judging by all the lab equipment left behind.

Digging in your memory, you recalled everybody keeping to the first and second floors in this building to make bailouts quicker. The militia men were on the rooftops to keep an eye out for any stray hunters or other unfriendlies.

Whatever happened on these floors were not from when you kept around.

Your trio came to a corner room that looked as if it were being used as an x-ray exam area, there were large black television-like screens on the wall that had some mangled imagery on them. Whatever it was put a shudder through you. Along the back wall, Joel found an x-ray abandoned on the counter and picked it up, when you and Ellie looked over his shoulder it looked like a skull with fungal growth on it. Like somebody who was infected for quite some time.

“Gross.” Ellie pretended to gag when she saw the photo.

Joel tucked the x-ray away and went on to look around, you followed by looking in the cabinets for alcohol disinfectant. “They had to have left something behind,” you mumbled to yourself as you began to feel the inklings of irritation slip into your bones.

Joel went to another door, this time leading to some room to the right but as he opened it, a screech came and he jumped, “Jesus!”

You drew your pistol from your hip and pointed it outwards, pushing Ellie behind you until you could hear chittering.

Fuckin’ monkeys , you think as you put your weapon down, faintly seeing three monkeys jump out a window on the opposite side of the room.

Ellie walks next to Joel, peeking into the lab he was stepping into and he leans towards her, “Well, at least it aint clickers.”

“Yeah. No Fireflies either,” she steps into the room. She throws her arms open wide, “Well, maybe in all that research they turned into fucking monkeys.”

You try to stifle a laugh but fail, a light giggle leaves your lips. “At least they’re not flying monkeys.”

“Just keep searching, we'll find something,” Joel says, shooting you a pointed look about your banter with Ellie.

The room looked like it used to be a science lab, naturally. The left and back side of the room were lined with metal cages, likely the ones that originally held the monkeys. Otherwise, there were large black countertop tables around, probably where students listened to their lecture and did hands-on assignments. Joel approached one of the tables in the middle, picking up what looked to be a recorder and pressed play.

A male voice clicked on. There were sounds of shuffling and screeches from the monkeys in the background. “That’s four palettes of lab equipment all packed up and ready to go. Now - big question is what do we do with all you guys. They say the tainted batch needs to be put down. You know what I say? I say screw that. Who made a bigger sacrifice than you, right? If anyone deserves to run free out there it’s-. Hey, easy! Agh. Shit. Oh, no. It bit me. Oh my god,” his breath gets heavy and the recorder stops abruptly.

Holy fuck, they were purposefully infecting animals , you think in horror.

“I’m sure glad we didn’t mess with them monkeys,” Joel says. “Did you know?”

You look at him wide-eyed and slack jawed. “Not a fuckin’ clue. I know my uncle was running blood tests and cell regrowth experiments but nothing like that.”

“He didn’t say where they went,” Ellie said, eyeing the two of you. The tension was minorly palpable, whatever small victory you gained in the camradiery field was now likely gone between Joel and you.

“I know, let’s keep looking,” Joel responded.

You fixed your composure and tried to reassure her, “We’ll find them.”

Your small trio followed the room into another, searching that one but finding nothing of interest in the drawers or on the tables. Not even another research binder. There was another door to the right and Joel approached it, trying to push his way in but there was a green metal object keeping it closed. He looked to you, “Hey, come help me.”

Stepping beside him, the two of you pushed against the door, throwing yourselves against it repeatedly to open it until it gave way. Joel gave you a tense nod, a silent thanks as he walked in first, Ellie close on his heels.

It wasn’t until you entered the room did you see it- the body. It looked to have been dead for quite a while, the bones were very obvious but still held together by the clothes wrapped around them. The person was sitting at a desk, facing the window, where Joel loomed over it as if it didn’t bother him and he picked up what looked to be another recorder.

Click. “If you’re looking for the Fireflies, they’ve all left,” a voice said grimly. You recognized it as the same one from earlier.

Ellie looked up from a binder she was flipping through, “Yeah, no shit.”

“I’m dead,” the man continued, “Or I will be soon. Got me some time to reflect.” Joel fast forwards through the tape, “...been years that felt like we were…”

He fast forwards again, “...fucking thing was a giant waste of ti-...”

And again, “...not gonna do this anymore…”

Ellie sighs while you pace, wishing to listen to the tape in more detail later. “Come on,” Joel grumbles as he fast forwards it yet again.

“...looking for the others, they’ve all returned to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. You’ll find them there. Still trying to save the world. Good luck with that.”

Ellie sounding mildly hopeful looks to both of you, “Do either of you know where that is?”

“I know the city,” he nods before turning to catch you chewing on your fingernails in thought. “You?”

“I- I remember Marlene mentioning it to Regan on occasion but they talked about it like it was abandoned. I’ve never been there.”

“Is it far,” Ellie asked.

“It ain’t close. I mean on horseback-,” he stops abruptly, something catching his attention out the window.

“What?”

Out of the corner of your eye you see it too. Flashlights peeking through the windows. Just as Ellie asked if they were Fireflies, the light shines on them as they stood by the window and Joel pushed her down, ordering her and you to hit the deck just as whoever was on the other end of that light took a shot at you all, shattering the window.

“Shit,” you shout, ducking down to avoid the coming onslaught of gunfire.

Ellie looked at you, “Who the fuck are these guys?”

He looked at you angrily, “Did you lure them here? Is this some kind of trap?”

“Fuck you, Joel Miller! I didn’t.”

He stared you down. “Fine, It don’t matter,” Joel argued, “We know where to go. Let’s get the hell outta here.” He jerked his chin at you and spit, “Lead the way.”

You wiped the initial shock from your system and went into mission-mode, keeping yourself calm and alert. They followed you out of the room, the three of you crouching to avoid being spotted by the new threat through the windows.

Making your way through the anteroom to the office then through the lab as silently and rapidly as possible while crouching. It wasn’t until you reached the x-ray exam room when you were hit in the chin with something hard, knocking you down, dizzy.

Your mind and vision were in a haze but you managed to catch the vague shape of Joel rush somebody, likely the person who knocked you over, through the newly forming tears in your eyes. Fuck , you thought, your face hurting like a bitch.

Ellie yelled something as she went to help Joel, apparently getting the bright idea to take Joel’s machete from his backpack and swinging it wildly at the stranger.

As they fought the man, you shook your head and rose on your haunches, still dizzy. You could make out the faint shape of a second man running up to attack but through your shifting vision, saw three of him. It didn’t stop you from raising one of your dual guns from your thigh holster, taking aim. Breathing in, slowly breathing out, you took the shot when the three men formed a single one.

The loud bang reverberated through the halls, momentarily distracting you from the brawl happening somewhere to your right but soon that silenced.

“What the fuck was that,” you asked nobody in paricular.

“Don’t look like Fireflies to me,” Joel mumbled in reply, hinting you must have been telling the truth.

Together, you all walked down the tarp covered hall from earlier but saw four shapes run past some red smoke on the only way out of the building, likely trying to cut you all off. “Stay back,” Joel said as he flung one of his makeshift bombs at the intruders. After a moment, it went off and sickly screams were either cut short or continued onto a deadly moan.

Each of you hid behind random turned over tables, guns drawn.

Although six of these strangers were down, it seemed there were more as another came in through the right side, taking a shot at Ellie. Joel responded in kind and shot him square in the neck, the blood splattering a nearby wall.

You followed suit and took aim at somebody ducking below a desk much like you. Your aim was a little off because of that damned kick to the head but you got the guy nonetheless. It was messier than you’d like, the newly forming headache was making things much more difficult.

Together with Joel, you took two more men down until you reached the small lobby where the stairs were only to find another flare emitting red smoke. “What the hell,” you wondered aloud.

“Probably to tell the others how to get to where we were, building is like a maze.”

With that, you and Joel look off, making sure to keep Ellie behind you as your group traversed down the steps, finding another flare. Joel heard them before you and raised his gun. You followed as two more men rounded the corner, both being taken down by the bullets you both expelled into their bodies.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears at the adrenaline rushing through your veins, no matter how much you remained focused at the task at hand. You took a breath in an attempt to ground yourself, following Joel closely behind as he was about to round the same corner, stepping over the two dead bodies when you grabbed Joel, pulling him back as a bullet whizzed by. “Fuckin’ hell,” he gasped.

Taking to the wall you peered out and quickly aimed, letting another bullet rain free. It clashed into the wall behind your target, narrowly missing as the man ducked behind the poor choice of the glass railing. Joel put his hand on your waist, pulling you close as he leaned back around taking his chance on the guy. He must have made it count because soon you heard a soft thud of the body collapsing.

If you weren’t so preoccupied trying to stay alive, you might have noticed Joel kept his large hand on you for a few moments longer than necessary.

Joel left the relative safety of the second floor lobby, nearly running to the exit. You grabbed onto Ellie’s hand as you shoved your nearly empty gun into it’s holster on your thigh, following him. He came to the closed door that led to the next area of classrooms to get you all down to the ground floor but just as he went to open it, it banged open from the inside starling all of you. The force was so strong that it pushed Joel to the glass railing behind him, his body teetering over the edge.

“Joel!”

You dropped Ellie’s hand as you ran to him, trying to get the other man off of him as he choked your companion. By the force and chaos, the rail gave way underneath Joel. As he fell, he pulled the stranger with him.

A scream surely left you as you watched in horror as the two men fell to the ground but it grew louder when you noticed a sickening metal bar poking it’s way through Joel’s stomach, staining red in the sunlight. Beside him, the attacker lay dead in a mangled heap of limbs, his neck at an unnatural angle.

You began to shuffle onto your stomach to drop the distance from the balcony walkway to the ground floor, Ellie close behind you copying your maneuver. Together, you both landed on the ground awkwardly and unbalanced. It was so unbelievably impossible to stay focused as you watched Joel writhe in pain from the impalement as loud banging seemed to invade your senses.

Ellie jumped straight to Joel asking in a rushed panic, “What do you want me to do?”

You couldn’t hear what he said when the double doors burst open, two men with a baseball bat and machete appearing. You grabbed both of your guns, unleashing lead into them with a little more force than necessary.

When you turned back around, you saw Ellie trying to lift Joel. “Don’t!”

You ran to him and dropped to your knees, removing your backpack and began to scrounge around for clean gauze. “You’re only going to create more damage, you old bastard. Stay still.”

With the gauze in hand, you motioned for Ellie to put as much pressure as she could on the frontside of the wound. You tried your best not to jolt him around so much as you tried to assess the entry wound on his back, only to find it was buried in cement beneath him. He groaned, calling out a string of curse words.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t need to if you had good bedside manners. Goddamned brat.”

His small jab at you could have made you cry if you weren’t so invested in keeping the old man alive and with no other alternative to removing the rebar safely from him, you had no choice but to lift him away from it.

You reached into your backpack once more and grabbed a strap of leather you usually kept close by, mostly to fiddle with, and shoved it into his mouth. “To keep you from biting off your own tongue,” you explained while adjusting your position to be directly behind his upper body to prepare and stanche the blood flow from his back. “Although I think we could all use the peace and quiet.”

Whatever comeback he had was cut off as he yelled, muted by the bit. While he was distracted by your words, you had nodded to Ellie to lift Joel straight up. He quickly fell to his knees as he tried to stand, probably ready to pass out from the pain and you padded the entry wound with gauze, holding it tightly.

His words came out weak as he told Ellie, “Just get to the damn horses.”

She looked at you and you nodded, removing one hand to give her a gun. “Do whatever it takes, kiddo.”

She walked in front of you both, her arms held high with the gun in her hand, ready to take on anybody else. She led you both to a classroom and knocked over some wood panels that barely covered a broken window.

“Do you think you can handle it,” you asked him.

He didn’t answer, instead choosing to throw his body over the edge, finding himself on his back once more. “Come on, move,” Ellie demanded of him as you jumped through the window after them. Just as she got him sitting up against a table, another man burst through the door across the classroom, gun ready to fire.

Seeing as you were getting rather low on your own bullets, you reached for Joel’s revolver and threw yourself out from behind the lab table, firing two shots and hitting him in the torso.

“Come on, we gotta get you outta here,” you told him. One look at Ellie and you saw her hands and sweater covered in Joel’s blood, you likely looked the same. Brushing those thoughts away, you and her flanked him on either side, trying to walk him out.

“No, I’m okay,” he moaned. Trying to push you both off him.

“Like shit,” Ellie threw back, “You’re not okay, Joel. Now come on! Fucking walk!”

You kept your free hand up, gun drawn, and Ellie matched your pose to his left. “Down this hall,” you directed, “To the left is the main entrance, we can leave through there.”

Don’t die on me now, Joel Miller , you silently wished, hoped, prayed.

Joel began to sway between you two, his feet were failing beneath him. His body in your arms grew heavier and sluggish with each step making it harder to walk straight. You really tried to keep the gauze at his back secure against the wound but it was hard to do that while also trying to keep him balanced. As you were distracted by assessing the man, he moaned out, “Up.”

You and Ellie looked up the stairs that were against the wall in the lobby and saw two men coming towards you all, “There!”

Ellie raised her gun first, taking shots at random and you did too. It was difficult to do while doing everything possible to not drop Joel but somehow, they too, fell dead along the stairs. On his other side, the teen poked at him out of breath, “I swear to god, I get you out of this, you’re so singing for me.”

You decide to jump in on the joke, trying to lighten the mood, “I think you mean ‘for us’, Ellie.”

Joel coughed a laugh, “You wish.”

Slowly the front entrance inched closer. Ellie left to pry it open and let you two through and Joel let go of you, shoving his body and burst through the secondary doors. He lost his balance and fell down the steps only to see as some other hooded figure with his hands on Whiskey and Callus’ reigns.

Before the straggler could even draw a weapon, you and Ellie took shots at him. Joel’s revolver clicked, notifying it was out, just as the man let go of the horses.

You ran to Joel, lifting him up to his feet. He groaned in pain, “I know, I’m sorry. Just a little longer, alright, cowboy?”

He gave you an odd look as Ellie appeared and she asked him, “Can you get on?”

Whether or not he can is entirely different than if he will, you thought. You were proven right as he jumped up on Whiskey, not even noticing he was getting on the wrong horse.

“Ellie, get on Callus,” you told her as you also swung your leg over Whiskey, saddling in front of Joel. “As for you, don’t bleed all over my goddamn horse. Hold tight.”

A part of you was worried that he didn’t even bother to jab, you kicked Whiskey’s underbelly and Joel’s body slouched against your back, passing out. The fact the warmth that seeped through your body was likely his blood was gnawing against the corners of your mind but you shooed the thoughts away. Together with Ellie, you filed out of the university as fast as you could, not looking back.

[szynkaaa]

I more or less watched The Boy!!! And by watching, I mean I skipped more or less through the jump scare parts because I cannot do horror movies at all. I haven’t watched one since 2015 and The Boy was like the first horror movie after five years

Full disclosure, the ONLY reason I started watching the movie was because someone posted a gif of Greta standing close to Brahms who was all sweaty and breathing heavily n I was like “oh shit who dat he hot” and here I am 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

I did some digging for interviews and generally what people have been saying about the movie, took some screenshots from youtube to put my thoughts and musing together too! 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her? 

So first of all, let’s start with a low resolution photo I found on IG of James Russell without mask:

which brings me to my first musing/thought/question? 

It’s all under the cut, very screenshot and text heavy, you can find more Brahms drawing at the bottom though  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So at the end of the movie, we are shown a Brahms with a broken mask and his face being burned, indicating that he was in fact in the fire.

I assumed first that the fire was created by the parents to fake their sons death and then he had to live hidden inside the walls? 

But I’ve also heard apparently it was Brahms who set the fire to fake his own death or maybe an eight years old kid really was trying to burn himself down?? 

My other theory is that his parents made the fire and tried to kill Brahms and it did burn him but he survived, and the parents didn’t wanna go to jail sooo to hide everything they made their son live in the walls

i mean the responsible thing would be to turn their kid in and have him treated and stuff;;; listened to a murder podcast about two cases where kids murdered enough kids and how they are doing now interesting read Brahms made me think of those two cases 

I also do not think that the previous nannies were killed. Like, c’mon. You’d report a person missing and sooner or later it would go back to the Heelshire mansion and if the body counts piles up? Can’t look good and I doubt that the Heelshire wants the police investigating them close up. 

Also, when the mom was like “He’s chosen you if you’ll have him” to Greta? Is it just me or the wording or does it sound like a marriage proposal/arrangement xD 

Brahms is a brat and he sees the people around him as his possession or to toy around. But I also do think that he has some abandonment issues but not in the sad tragic kind of way lmao. Even if he was the one controlling and manipulating his parents from behind-the-scene (quite literally I suppose?), he was still told as a kid to live in hiding and that no one can know he is alive. I don’t know much about the human brain, but I can imagine how damaging that must be to his mental growth and set him back in some way? We don’t know too much about his relationship with his parents - but I assume that he must have still loved them in his own twisted way. Can’t imagine that he would have been indifferent about his parents suicide. 

The scene before Greta manages to back out - first he uses the child voice to beg her to come back and promises he will be good. That’s his manipulating Greta, but when that doesn’t work and she tries harder to open the door, he becomes more desperate to keep her there and then completely loses his temper and threatens to kill Malcolm if she doesn’t return. I’m pretty sure homeboy would have killed him anyway. And then later when she returns and he is all heavy breathing and smelling her hair and then jumps up when she shouts Brahms? Idk I def think there is some sort of abandonment issue going on. 

I don’t think he is a child stuck in a man’s body or manchild or whatever. I think that he does know how to take care of himself - but he just chooses to manipulate people with the facade of a kid to do his bidding and cater to his needs. 

Anywhomst, but clearly Brahms is also a very manipulative and controlling person based, based on how the mother was reacting on the destroyed bedroom, she really seemed to be at the end of her wits and just breaking down with her “you promised you’d be good”. It was very heartbreaking to watch and also scary because it really makes you realize just how much power Brahms holds over them?? idk maybe it was just me.

Next point: the CGI mask  + the burns 

So according to some interviews with the director stated that at the first test streaming, people weren’t really scared of Brahms because he was too handsome so they had to slap a mask over his face. The face was done after everything was filmed. I’m thinking the face burns were also added post-production when they were adding the cgi mask. Otherwise, James would have needed to go through the makeup department for some wicked face burns and it would have been visible during the filming and test screening too? Which would imply that at first the fire was supposed to be just  a cover story that their son is dead and it was changed later

Observation/thoughts on Brahms Heelshire

Love how he stands there with his hands behind his back and then nods when Greta tells him to go under the cover

James Russell is 191cm tall. So like. Brahms is really fucking tall. But I notice that most of the time he stands with a slight hunch. Could be due to him crawling through the walls and crawling out of places that requires him to do a lot of crouching. His bed in his hideout made me really sad, I’ll get to it later. 

Since James didn’t get many lines in the ten minutes that he appeared, I do think that his eyes did all the acting. They stand out even more with the mask on, there is just this crazy look on it. I also noticed during my rewatch that he doesn’t seem to blink much or at all. 

Oh yeah, he also peeped on Greta and Malcolm making out on the bed and then cockblocked them. We been knowing that he made a Greta doll and very likely jerked off to it. We also been knowing that he very very very likely wanted to bone Greta at the goodnight kiss scene still waiting for the maskeless kiss scene gimme gimme. I also highly doubt that Brahms has much first-hand experience with kissing n stuff. High key thinking he was trying to do copy Malcolm and do what he observed lmao

When I first watched the scene, I assumed that the hole behind the mirror has always been and it’s just another one of the hidden passages Brahms to slip in and out, but now that I’m looking at the shape of the holes, it seems to me more like the mirror and brick wall were broken at the same time?? If that is the case holy shit boy is s t  r o n g. I mean, he also punched through the closet door like no big deal so really what have the parents been feeding him. 

I’m also leaning toward the fact that he ran there because Greta screamed loudly. I don’t think he was in the room as them when everything went down there, it seemed more like he heard the scream and had to nyoomed over and then punched a way through to get out of the wall. And then went on to attack Cole. He must have known that Greta wanted Cole gone, since that what she whispered to the doll before going to bed. 

Tbh, I fully expected him to murder Cole in his sleep, but Brahms wrote a warning message in blood to tell him to get out soooooo like. Cole you were warned and now you gotta live with the consequences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brahm’s sleeping corner

This scene was shown at the end after Greta and Malcolm escaped. We also see them briefly during the part where Greta and Malcolm are trying to find a way out and stumbled into Brahms’ hideout. I’m not sure why the rules are slapped on the walls. It seems to me that Brahms is very very very set on that the rules / routine should be followed. In the movie, he called Greta and suggested to her that she should follow the rules, to which she then started doing it.

I headcanon that that’s the routine that he grew up with as a kid and it’s just very very very very very hard to break out of it - not that he is trying to break the routine. 

I’m failing to find a good way to put my thoughts into words, but I guess the rules and routine is sort of his coping mechanism? 

I suppose if you had an OC that you ship Brahms with and want to change stuff around the house, the OC would have to very slowly introduce new rules and routines. Baby steps, yknow.

Brahms has a violin hanging there! Honestly I would be surprised if Brahms didn’t know how to play at least one instrument. The family also has an old ass piano/clavichord (?) and Brahms loves classical music soo yeah. Love me a boy who appreciates classical musical hehe

I suppose the egg boxes are there to soundproof the room more - maybe so he can play the violin? 

There’s also music sheets hung around his attics, it’s not clear on the screenshots but when you rewatch the scene and shove your face close to the screen. Some are hanging next to the violin and there are some taped on the wall next to his bed and porn too

nice to see he has a fridge and microwave, I was concerned that he wasn’t well fed and that leftovers might not be enough, but then again. Dude is 191 cm so clearly he has been drinking his milk

Didn’t take a screenshot of his vanity, but there is a crocodile magnet stuck to the mirror hehe. I do think that he shaves and stuff, otherwise his beard would be much longer??

We can see more music sheets stuck to a pillar on the right. 

Loving the christmas lights that he has hanging there above his bed. It’s cute. 

On the shelf he has a bunch of tupperware and empty bowls. Most of hte things are neatly organized. We can also see some books and a pen

There’s some sunlight streaming inside - I do hope that Brahmsy stays warm during winters.

Here we can see more of the food that he has there - there is also a sink but I didn’t snatch a screenshot of it. I think those are potatoes in the pot? Maybe he does know how to cook some basic stuff, I do wonder if he has a functioning kitchen up there. Probably not for fire safety reasons lol

Yall see that thing on the note sheet covered pillar? Ngl, that’s a whole ass aesthetic right there.

He got a few potted plants up there. Took a closer look at them and it seems like they were healthy. So he knows how to take care of plants, which is nice to know I suppose?

Yes, we all know what he was doing with the doll and what the tissue balled up tissue implies. However, has anyone noticed the size of the bed??? 

If you scroll up a bit to the screenshot of Greta seeing the doll, it looks t i n y. The make shift doll takes up more than half of the space. 

Yall. this breaks my heart. Dude is a beanstalk. I’m pretty sure the bed is from when he was a kid shoved by his parents to live inside the wall, does he have to sleep there in his adulthood too??? 

Even though Brahms strikes me as someone who probably doesn’t sleep much or during normal times, that bed must be so tiny for him. He must be sleeping with his knees bend and shit unable to stretch out :((( 

Brahms: is a psychopath that smashed the skull of a girl and very abusive tormented his parents and then Greta Me: omg he needs a bigger bed that poor thing :(((

Brahms’ DIY corner 

Ah yes, Brahm’s little DIY/creative corner. 

Homeboy got lot of animal traps, cages and taxidermies hanging around, pointing strongly toward that it’s a hobby of it? 

Also at the end where we see him fixing up the doll, we can get a better shot at his desk, and I gotta say the threads and stuff are all very nicely organized. Brahms’s table looks more organized than mine does lmao. 

So we know he is a crafty boy. Not sure how difficult taxidermy is but I imagine it does take a lot of time to learn? Well he had all the time in the world anyway.

So yeah, that’s a wrap. Congrats if you made it to the bottom of my incoherent thoughts and ramblings, have a bonus drawing of Brahms wearing different masks: 

[sunmoonandeddie]

don’t forget to sing

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 4,973

summary: You meet someone new in the most unlikely of ways during the quarantine in New York City.  An alley is six feet apart, right?

chapter warnings: swearing, mention of sickness

masterlist

a/n: Let me know what you think!

This was just fucking perfect.

Of course.  Of course you’d move to New York City three weeks before a fucking pandemic.  Cities were a cesspool for illness, and the Big Apple was no exception.

Your dreams of going out and exploring the city and finding little spots that you could call your own now that you were a real New Yorker and not just a tourist anymore were gone.  You’d been so busy unpacking and getting set up at your new job that you’d only gotten to go out for groceries.

And now all of New York City was shut down.  Broadway was closed, for heaven’s sake.  You couldn’t remember a time when that had ever happened in your lifetime.

It was mildly terrifying.  And by mildly, you meant extremely.

Thankfully, your job was primarily online anyway.  You were a playwright and you were basically an intern and assistant for Tony Kushner, possibly one of the greatest playwrights of all time.

But you were lonely.  At least before you were ordered to stay home, you could go out and get a little human interaction at the grocery store, even if the cashier was just telling you your total.  But now, everyone at the grocery store eyed each other warily.  Like you’d infect them with the virus at any second.

Which, it was possible.  It was why you only went late at night in order to avoid most of the crowds.  And also why you’d sewn a mask out of an old t-shirt in order to protect yourself.  And also why you’d stocked up on groceries so you wouldn’t have to go for about two weeks.

“I don’t know,” you said as you held the phone to your ear, wandering back and forth in your tiny little apartment.  Your best friend was on the other side, a thousand miles away.  “It’s getting really bad here.”

And, of course, she could try to understand, but Hope was all the way across the country.  She’d gotten a job in her hometown in California after graduation.  “I think we’re starting to head that way, too.  Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so,” you said, trying to be cheerful as you sat at your desk, pulling your knees up to your chest.  “I’m used to being alone, remember?  I’m a writer.  All I need is coffee and my laptop and I’m ready to hibernate.”

Hope let out a sigh, and you could hear the creak of her bed as she laid down.  “I don’t know.  I just think that maybe you should come out here.”

“I can’t.  I don’t have that kind of money.  And I just got here.  I don’t want to run away at the first sign of trouble,” you said as you opened up your laptop.  “Besides, I’m probably safer here locked away in my apartment by myself than I would be in your big house with you, your parents, and Scott.  Your parents work in a lab with hundreds of other people.  They have no idea if any of them have it.  It’d probably be safer for you to come stay here with me.”

“Me in that shoe box?” She scoffed.  “As if.”

Your laptop whirred to life as you ran your finger back and forth over the mouse pad.  “We talked about this.  You’re a California girl.  I’m New York.”  A smirk settled over your face as you cradled the phone between your ear and your shoulder, typing in your password.  “Two households, both alike in dignity—”

“Jesus, theatre kids are the worst,” she muttered.

You barked out a laugh as you pulled up your latest word document.  “I’m a grown woman, you know.”  You reached over your desk and opened up the curtains, figuring you could use a little change of scenery, even if it was just the apartment building across the alley.  The red brick was illuminated by the setting sun, the sky painted in shades of orange and gold.

There’s a tense pause between the two of you.  There’s a lot of unspoken words.

The both of you know that this is serious.  People are dying and there’s nothing the two of you can really do except hope and stay inside as much as possible and wash your hands.  And this is the first time the two of you have lived apart since your sophomore year of university.  It’s a big change and of course, all this happens right when you’re on your own.

“Are you going to be okay?” Hope asked, her voice cracking.

Taking in a shaky breath, you rest her head in your hand.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I’ll be okay.  You just worry about staying healthy yourself, okay?  And take care of your parents.”

Her parents were both a little older, and they were at risk with everything going around.  They’d become your second family in the years since you’d first met Hope, and had even let you live with them for a while after graduation while you saved up for your move to New York City.  Hell, they’d paid for you to come spend school breaks with them.  They were your family.

And now you were all alone with no way to get to them.  Even if you did want to fly, all incoming and outgoing flights were being canceled.  They hadn’t officially announced that they’d be closing the airports, but it was coming.

A light in the apartment across the alley from yours flicked on, and your eyes were immediately drawn to it.

“Oh…,” you breathed out, accidentally cutting off what Hope was saying.

“What?”

“There’s a…  There’s a man.”

“A man?!  We are in a pandemic!  There’s no dating in a pandemic!”

You went quiet as your elbow rested on your desk, your chin in your hand.  “He’s… gorgeous.”

And gorgeous, he was.  He looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower, with the towel swung low on his hips.  Dark hair was smattered across his broad chest like some hero on the cover of a trashy romance novel.  He ran his fingers through his long, damp hair as he opened up the drawers of his dresser, picking out boxers and sweats.

“God…  He looks like he just walked off a photoshoot with, like… Vogue,” you said quietly.  Drool was starting to drip from the corner of your mouth, you were so entranced.

“Wait…  Really?” Hope said, her voice rising.  “I need details!  Now!”

Brows furrowed, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.  “You have a boyfriend.”

“Who I haven’t gotten to see in over a week.  Scott is the love of my life, but I need to live vicariously through you,” she said.  “The most romance we have right now is when his internet actually works and we get to FaceTime.”

You were in a trance, just watching him move around his room.  “You know how cute I thought Jimmy Woo was?  He was in my Econ class and then we went on, like… two dates?”

“Yeah.”

“I would feed Jimmy Woo to a pack of hyenas if this man asked me to.”

But of course, nothing good could last.  Your elbow slipped off the edge of the desk and your face slammed down onto the wood.  “Oh, my god,” you groaned as you fell to the ground, clutching your mouth.  “Holy fuck…”

Hope was shouting at you through the phone, demanding to know whether or not you were okay.  She was more frantic than you’d ever heard her.

Pulling your hand away from your face, you winced as you saw the dark red blood.  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit…”  You didn’t think you’d knocked out a tooth, thank god.  You were sure that you’d be able to feel that.  “Yeah…  I think I’m okay.”  You started to pull yourself up, glaring at the blood that was on the edge of the desk.

But when you found the Most Handsome Man in the World staring at you from his window, looking just as worried as Hope sounded in his towel, you quickly ducked back down, willing him to go away.  You don’t think you’d ever been so embarrassed.

“Hope, I’m going to throw myself from the Brooklyn Bridge,” you hissed into the phone as you sat on the floor, leaning against your desk.  “He saw me bust my face open!  Or he heard it!”

There’s a pause, and then a snort.  “You have to admit, it’s kinda funny.  And the type of thing that would only happen to you.”

“Gee, I’m so happy you’re having fun with this,” you said.

You stayed down there for an extraordinarily long time, hoping to whatever god was out there that he’d stop looking.  When you finally emerged from your hiding place, you found that he was watching a movie with his bedroom light off, his eyes completely focused on the television.

And there was a whiteboard leaning against the window, messy scrawl in blue marker.

Hope you didn’t hurt yourself too bad!!  And I’m glad you enjoyed the show ;)

More than a little appalled at how blatant he was, you grabbed a piece of notebook paper and a Sharpie, writing out your reply before sticking it to the window with a piece of tape.

Nothing but a busted lip and broken pride :(

You shut your curtains, carefully cleaning your wound before getting to work on your latest writing assignment.  Though occasionally, you could remember the strange interaction and a smile would creep across your face.

Which would then cause you to wince in pain as the cut on your lip came open again.

Right before you went to bed, you peeked out of your curtains to see if he’d replied again.

Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone what I saw :)  Goodnight!

You quickly wrote out a reply, taping it up before heading to bed.

Pinky promise?  Goodnight!

When you woke up, there was already another note left for you, and the man seemed to be gone.

Good morning!  I hope your lips feel better!

You had no idea when he’d be back or why the hell he’d left.  It was a pandemic after all.

Granted, a lot of people still had to work in this whole mess.  It was ridiculous.

Feeling a little bold, you wrote out a message.

You wanna kiss it better?

But you quickly crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it away.  Despite the fact that you’d seen him almost completely naked the night before, you didn’t know him.  He’d only said three sentences to you so far, and they were written out.

It was the quarantine equivalent of sliding into someone’s direct messages on Twitter or Instagram.

Should you even reply?  He was…  He was the kind of guy you saw on Love Island.  Too perfect and too ripped and sweet and mysterious and friendly, all at the same time.

You’d been getting into a lot of shows you wouldn’t have watched before while quarantined.  You’d watched the entire first season of the American version of the show, and you’d probably start the United Kingdom version sometime that day.  It wasn’t like you had anything better to do.

“Have you written back to him?” Hope asked as you set up your laptop on your desk, pulling up Spotify.

“What?” You asked, your phone cradled between your ear and your shoulder.  “No.  It was a one time thing.  It’s done.”  Before she could reply, you said your goodbyes and hung up.  You really needed to clean and that wasn’t going to happen if you chattered away on the phone with Hope like you usually did.

Music blasted from your laptop’s speaker after you hit play, and you threw open the window, letting the late winter air in.  It had started to get really stuffy in your apartment and you needed something to do other than work and binge watching or you’d go insane.

You didn’t even notice that your neighbor that lived across the alley had come home, and was watching you with a delighted smile on his face.

You were half-dancing, half-cleaning, belting out the lyrics without a care as you got more and more into it.  “Didn’t even know it!  No punches left to roll with!  You got to keep me focused!  You want it?  Say so!” You sang, twirling around with your trash can in hand as you picked up all the various little items.  “Let me check my chest, my breath right quick!  He ain’t ever seen it in a dress like this!  He ain’t ever even been impressed like this!”

Unseen by you, the mysterious stranger took a few steps forward, grateful that he’d left his window open.

“Prolly why I got him quiet on the set like zip!  Like it, love it, need it bad!  Take it, own it, steal it fast!  Boy, stop playin!’  Grab my ass!  Why you acting like you—”  You turned around, breaking off with a squeak as you saw him standing there watching you, your trashcan and an empty mug in hand.  You were completely frozen as he stared at you with a slight smile, leaving you a deer in headlights.

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of just how awful you looked.  Your hair hadn’t been washed, or your face.  You were wearing a men’s two XL hoodie that you’d stolen from some guy you’d fucked for a few months in college and a pair of sweatpants that you’d had since you were on the middle school track team that were still too long in the feet.  You’d done shot put and discus.

Why the fuck were you thinking about shot put and discus?  You hadn’t thought about it over twelve years.  It wasn’t like you were ever any good at it.

The Most Handsome Man in the World was staring at you, holding a takeout box at a mug of tea.  But at least he was fully dressed, even if that didn’t awake away from how attractive he was.  “Hey,” he said with an easy smile.

“Hi.”  Your voice cracked as you spoke, and you’d never wanted to slam your head against the wall more.  How could you be this much of a fucking loser?

“I like your music choice.  Who is that?” He asked curiously as he set his food on the bed, kicking off his shoes before sitting down.

Yeah, he was definitely just as attractive fully clothed as he was naked, which was truly a feat in itself.  Surely there was some kind of award for that, right?

You realized you’d been staring at him in silence and coughed, replying, “Doja Cat.”

“How’s your lip?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

The two of you stared at each other, him happily munching on the chicken nuggets he’d picked up.  You hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m James,” he said after swallowing.  “But my friends call me Bucky.”

You gave him your name as you slowly moved a few steps closer, sitting down in your desk chair and pulling your knees up to your chest.  “What kind of a name is Bucky?”

He chuckled, dipping his next nugget into the sweet and sour sauce.  “My middle name is Buchanan.  My best friend, Steve, started calling me Bucky when we were in kindergarten, and I don’t know… it just stuck.”

“I mean…”  You shrugged, wrapping your arms around her legs.  “‘S alright.  I like James though.”

“You can call me James.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

It felt intimate, somehow.  Calling him by his first name.

The quarantine was forcing people to revert back to Victorian ways of social conduct.  If you were lucky, you’d get your own Mr. Darcy.

But with the sweats you had on, it was more than likely that you’d end up an old spinster.

How did he find it so easy to talk to a complete stranger?  Granted, you were a lot less intimidating than he was.

“How’s your lip?” He asked, his head tilting to the side as he peered over at you.  “You don’t need stitches, right?”

There was an unspoken worry there.  Needing stitches meant you’d probably go without, since all the hospitals were so backed up with those that had fallen ill.  And going to the hospital just meant you’d risk your own health by coming in close contact with those going to get treated for Covid-19.

“If you do, I have a first aid kit I keep here in my apartment with the stuff to do stitches,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  “But I wouldn’t exactly be able to come over there to help you.  You’d have to do the stitches yourself.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him.  “Why do you have the stuff to do stitches in your first aid kit?  I did see this one episode of one of those crime shows where they used safety pins to hold a gash open, but I can’t remember what show it was.”

Mirth sparkled in his eyes as he watched you.  “I’m a nurse.”

“Oh,” you said, relaxing.  But then you remembered, and your heart sank.  “Oh.  I… James.”

James looked rather sheepish as he looked down at his feet.  “It’s nothing really.  But I can’t use the elevator since it would risk someone being in an enclosed space with me.  So… you know.  I don’t really need leg day, right?”  He let out a weak laugh, clearly trying to blow it off.  “I’m not allowed to use the gym anymore.  Not that I would.  I don’t want to risk infecting anyone, even if I don’t have it yet.”

The way he said ‘yet’ hurt your heart.  He knew the position he was in, how dangerous it was.

There was nothing you could really say to him.  What the hell could you say?  Thank you for your service?  Technically, you could, but you remembered how your dad had felt about it.  He’d been a field doctor over in Afghanistan until he’d died on his fifth tour.

“I was just doing what needed to be done, sweetheart,” he’d said to you when you’d asked.  “Trying to save as many people as possible.  I don’t need thanks for that.”

But fuck.  James was going out everyday to fight an opponent that he couldn’t see.

“My lip is fine,” you said eventually, breaking the silence with a weak smile.

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat.  “I’ll let you get back to your solo concert.  I’ve gotta shower.”

Things went on as normally.  Or, at least, as normal as things could be in a time like that.  Only now, you had someone to talk to that wasn’t Hope every night.

He wouldn’t tell you about what it was like at the hospital though.  He’d get this far away look in his eyes and his face would pale.  “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, darlin,’” he’d croon, a sad smile on his lips.  “You let me worry, and you just keep yourself safe and inside, okay?”

Sometimes you’d miss him.  He’d be at the hospital for days on end, sleeping in on-call rooms and eating from vending machines.  That’s when you’d leave little notes all over your window for him to read when he got back.

But then one day he came home and you could just tell that he was more worn down that usual.

“James?” You called out softly as you pushed the window open.  You hadn’t seen him in two days.  “Are you okay?”  You leaned half out the window, your elbows resting on the ledge.

He took in a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he willed himself not to cry.

“James?”  You’re about to repeat your question when he looks up, staring blankly at the wall.

“Steve has it,” he said quietly, his voice cracking.

Your heart stopped inside your chest.  “Oh.  Oh, James…,” you breathed out.

A few tears slipped down his cheeks, his hands clenched at his sides.  “I went into a room in the ER and there he was.”

You’d heard so many stories about his best friend since childhood that you felt like you knew Steve already.  Bucky had met him when they were just five years old, on the first day of kindergarten, and it’d been history from there.  But Steve had been sickly and small up until they were about seventeen, when he’d undergone some revolutionary clinical trial.  Fixing his heart and lungs had kick started his entire system and it was like everything magically went away.

“Not even that stupid treatment prevented him from getting sick,” Bucky said quietly.  “He looked…  He looked like he was on his deathbed.”

You paused, before crawling out of the window and out onto the fire escape.  “James, take my hand.”

You knew it was stupid.  It was really, really stupid.  He was around those with the virus daily, but he needed you.  You’d risk it to give him a little bit of comfort.

“What?” He said, looking at you like you’d grown a second head.  “No.  No.  I can’t.  What if I give it to you?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” you said, insistently holding your hand out to him.  “Take my hand.”

Sniffling, he reached his hand out of his window and took yours, your fingers intertwining.  He took in a shaky breath, a fresh wave of tears coming on as he squeezed his eyes shut.  “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted after a long moment just holding your hand.  “I’m so fucking scared.  I don’t want to go in there day after day.  I know people need me but I…”  He looked up at you with sea glass eyes.  “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not going to,” you said firmly, with as much conviction as you could muster up.  “You hear me?  You’re not going to die, and neither is Steve.  We’re going to make it through this.”

“Sometimes I just… hold their hand,” he said, so quiet you could barely hear.  “They’re dying alone.  Their family and friends aren’t allowed in to see them.  So I just… stay with them.  So they have someone there.”  Bucky lets his head fall into his chest, his shoulders slumping.  “And then I have to call the family to let them know.  And I just hope that maybe…  knowing I was there with them helps a little.  But it’s not the same.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, not daring to look down because you’re several stories up and if you lean a little too far, it would result in a trip to the hospital you can’t afford.  You haven’t been outside in days.

You don’t realize that you’re crying right along with him until you taste the salty brine of your tears on your lips.

“We’re going to be okay, James,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.  “This won’t last forever.  And I’m going to be here with you, okay?  No matter what happens.  I’m here.  I’ve got you.”

He squeezed your hand once more before letting go, nodding for you to go back inside.  “Go wash your hands.  Now.”

A smile creeps across your face as you surrender to his wishes, crawling back through your window.  “Yes, sir.”

He’s touch and go the next few days.  Sometimes he seems upbeat, positive even, about the whole situation.  Others…  Well.  He had plenty of reason to be down.

“You know, you’re a pretty good singer,” he commented one night.  He was sitting against the window, leaning his head against the frame.  You had climbed out onto the fire escape again with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.  “That night that I heard you singing to that song…  The Doja Cat one?  You’re good.”  His head tilted to the side in the way that a puppy might.  “Why don’t you sing more often?”

“I used to,” you said after a deep sigh.  “I used to sing a lot.  I was going to be a musical theatre actress.  But I got told so often that I was better at writing than performing so… I don’t know.  I guess I just decided it’d be better to pursue something I was better at.”

His lower lip was caught between his teeth as he looked at you.

You’d never had someone look at you the way he did.  Like he wanted to see all of you, like he craved it, needed it, even.  It was exhilarating.

“That doesn’t mean you stop singing.”  He moved to rest his chin in his palm.  “Even if you don’t become a performer professionally, you don’t stop singing.  Especially in times like these.”

“What?  Like those fake videos of people in Italy?” You asked with a snort.  A breeze wound through the alley and you tightened the blanket around you.  “The one that Katy Perry retweeted?”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said with an eye roll.  “My ma used to sing around the house.  Hearing you…  It made me feel like I was home again.  Just for a little while.”  He smiled slyly.  “And you have pretty sick dance moves.”

Groaning, you climbed back into your window, shooting a glare at him.  “You promised not to talk about my dancing!”

“It was cute!”

“Was not!”

“Was to!”

You took in a deep breath as you stared at him with narrowed eyes.  “No,” you said, pointing a finger at him.  “No, it’s not.”  Before he could reply, you started to shut the window, calling out, “Goodnight, James!”  The window shut with a definitive click and you winked as he flipped you the middle finger.

Steve came home three weeks later, completely clean of the virus.  The quarantine finally ended on May 22nd, 2020, the amount of cases down to maybe a hundred that were contained within the hospital.

In that time, you’d gone outside a total of six times to get groceries.  You’d gained ten pounds, even with the basic exercises you were doing in your apartment to keep you active.  You’d also saved up two thousand dollars, since you weren’t going out and you’d put a parental lock on your laptop and phone so you couldn’t go online shopping until further notice, but you were lucky in that way.  You had an extremely well-paying job that you could do online, and your boss wasn’t an asshole.

Millions of New Yorkers flooded the streets, crying and hugging and touching everyone.

You hadn’t been touched in so long.  The last time had been when you’d held Bucky’s hand on your balcony, and that had been the only time he’d allowed it since he didn’t want to get you sick.

He’d been lucky that he didn’t get it himself.  Most of those that had fallen ill were healthcare workers.  Overworked, tired healthcare workers.

You stepped out of the front doors of your apartment building, feeling an overwhelming sense of elation.  You’d already talked to Hope that morning on FaceTime.  Her and her parents were celebrating by going to their favorite restaurant that was allowing dine-in again.

Tears pricked your eyes as you watched the people around you.  It reminded you a little bit of those pictures of V-Day in New York City at the end of World War II.

But where was Bucky?

He’d been at work yesterday, and since you hadn’t seen him, it probably meant that he’d passed out in an on-call room instead of coming home.

But you needed to see him.  You didn’t care if he was all gross and greasy.  You just needed him.

You loved him.

Your eyes locked in on a familiar head of long, brown hair sticking a little bit above the crowd.  He was awful tall.  When he turned his head, it only confirmed it.  “JAMES!” You shouted, trying to break through the roar of the crowd.  “JAMES!”

His brows furrowed, his head turning a little towards the sound of his voice.  When his eyes landed on you they went wide as saucers, his lips forming your name even though you couldn’t hear him over the people.

The two of you pushed through the hordes of people, trying to reach one another.  When you finally broke through, you threw yourself into his arms, your arms wrapping around his neck as he twirled you around.  The both of you were crying happy tears, wide smiles on your faces.

“We made it,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “We’re okay.”  You pulled back enough to cup his face, so many words you wanted to say getting caught in your throat.

But before you could say them, he pulled you into a kiss, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your hip.  Grinning against your lips, he dipped you just a little, holding you tight.  To passerby, it was a remnant of the iconic V-Day kiss.  But you couldn’t think about that.  All you could think about was Bucky.

“Hi,” he said softly as he pulled away, breathing heavily.

Your nose nudged against his as your eyes fluttered open.  “Hi.”

He stole another kiss, your heart skipping a beat inside your chest.  “You better not stop singing now that this is over,” he said quietly as he held you to him, refusing to let go.  “Can’t go a day without hearing your pretty voice.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Your sap.”

“My sap?!”

He had a cheeky smile as he looked at you, cupping your cheeks.  “Does this mean I can take you on a date now?”

You were lucky.  You knew people who got the virus, but none of them had died.  Others didn’t have the same luck unfortunately, and it was a tragedy.  But you don’t stop singing during dark times.  You just sing a little louder.

[adamarks]

If one more person says simon snow should lose his wings i’m gonna lose my goddamn mind: a meta

Alright you guys, I’ve had ENOUGH. Simon cannot lose his wings unless you want him to break up with Baz, and this is why.

Let’s start with Baz.

This analysis is obviously Simon-based, and yes i’ll get there, but first we need to look at the biggest key we’ve been given to what Simon’s wings could possibly mean subtextually and metaphorically for the story at large. That key is: Baz’s vampirism. 

Baz being a vampire is constantly compared to/mentioned in tandem with his queerness in Carry On. In his first chapters, what are the three most important traits that we learn about him? 

he’s a drama queen

he’s a vampire

he’s hopelessly in love with simon snow

If you boil his character down until he’s basically just a stick figure, that’s what he is: an over dramatic vampire in love with Simon Snow.

We’ve all read the books, we all know this, and we all know he’s much more than that. What of it?

What’s important is that Baz’s vampirism is treated almost the exact same as his homosexuality. 

Hiding it from everyone, being ashamed of it, knowing what you are but being terrified of it. His dad being “definitely more disappointed in my queerness than my undeadness.” 

I mean, holy shit, let’s look at this bit in Carry on from Chapter 51:

“I think if I got married, to a girl from a good family, my father wouldn’t even care that I’m queer. “

This scene really hits, because how many times have you wondered “What if I was straight? Maybe this thing wouldn’t be as bad?” “What if i was just a straight poc?” “What if I was only gay and not trans?” “What if I was only disabled and not gay on top of it?” What if, what if, what if. Would my life be easier? you wonder. Would I get hurt less? Would people treat me better?

If Carry On is about self-realization, then Wayward Son is about the struggle of self-acceptance. 

Baz going to Las Vegas and meeting Lamb probably seemed familiar for some of you people that are LGBT+. It’s how you feel when you’re from a small town and you go to a big city like New York or Orlando or LA for the first time and you see gay people all around you. Flamboyantly gay! Gay people holding hands! Gay people kissing! Trans people that don’t fit the gender norms! Older trans ladies just walking down the street!

It’s exciting, it’s exhilarating. Your baby-gay brain is so confused because no one’s giving them dirty looks. They don’t look nervous or ashamed. Is this allowed?

The party in the penthouse is glamorous and beautiful and alluring and none of the humans there are scared or look like they’re in real danger. It’s because they aren’t. None of those vampires are there to kill people. 

This is where Baz’s fear of his own nature comes in. Let’s hear it for all you homosexuals in the crowd that are/have been terrified of being predatory. Of turning the gender you’ve been told all of your life you’re not supposed to want into pieces of meat. You feel ashamed for wanting physical intimacy. You feel wrong for wanting emotional intimacy. 

Lamb is the older gay that you meet/learn about/watch on youtube or whatever that makes you learn that no, you’re not inherently evil. Lamb is the queer history, the queer movies, the queer people that you discover that make you learn that “no, i’m not bad. I’m not broken. I’m beautiful. I’m beautiful.” 

Baz thinking the sight of Lamb drinking that guy’s blood being alluring and beautiful is crucial to his arc. Baz needs to see that all of him is beautiful. 

So homosexuality = Baz being a vampire? How in the flying fuck does this have anything to do with Simon?

Remember, Baz is our key. His struggles have been happening since book one. Simon just gained his “creature” status at the end of Carry On. He’s new to this. Which means we’re new to the subtext. Which means: let’s dive on into the next big point.

Our Big Bisexual Boy

Whatever label you choose to use for Simon is up to you. As long as we all agree he likes more than one gender then it’s whatevs. I’m going to be using the word bisexual for this meta, though. 

We’re all well aware that Simon is Struggling with his bisexuality in this book. 

“I still haven’t sorted out whether I’m still attracted to women or whether I ever was, or whether I’m some kind of Baz-only-sexual. But the cleavage at this place is abundant, and I’m not mad about it.”

(taken from chapter 21) 

Like....... y’know. We know. It’s... we get it. 

The important part of that quote is that it’s at the Ren Faire. The Ren Faire is the first time Simon’s had his wings out in public since god-knows-when, if ever. This is also the first time he really considers kissing Baz in the book. Kissing Baz in Public.

Any of you that have been to Pride probably got a little bit of the warm fuzzies during this scene. The faire brought back such deep memories of my first pride it was a little bit emotional. I talked to random people, people ran around in rainbow outfits. There was body paint! Stupid hats! Weird dye jobs! The classic pride-flag-as-a-cape look! I talked to so many people and 

“Everyone here is so friendly.”

(also taken from chapter 21)

Everyone was so nice to me.

Baz feels right at home; Simon is all smiles. The only one not having a blast is Penny and she’s (I’m sorry, Penny) the token straight friend in these books. 

I don’t know how Rainbow did it, but she made me relive my first pride through Simon, and I’ll never not be grateful for that. 

“Today I’m someone else entirely. Today I’m just a bloke with fake red wings.”

The Pride/Ren Faire parallels were pretty obvious, but I wanna get a little further into the whole “wings = being bisexual” thing. 

We’ve established with Baz that being a magical creature or whatnot is Gay, but while Baz is fully magical, Simon’s “half-normal.” Kind of. It’s a weird situation there but half-normal works for the argument. 

“’Smells like dragon... but also smells like iron. Another abomination!’” 

(chapter 35)

Now the word “abomination” is really fucking unfortunate in this context, but biphobia exists so idk man. I’m gonna start talking in gay/straight terms and I absolutely know bisexuality isn’t half-gay half-straight but we’re talking in metaphors and i’ll tie it together at the end so just stick with me, okay?

He’s part dragon, part Normal (kind of). Simon’s not like Baz where he’s absolutely, 100% a vampire. He has traits of dragons and humans. This is why it’s so bad that he hates his wings half the time. They are part of him. They may not be “normal” and he may have to hide them, but he can’t just cut off the gay part. Our queerness doesn’t define us, but it’s a defining feature. 

Penny says she wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t a mage. Simon wouldn’t be Simon if he wasn’t bi. 

The mistake Simon and almost everyone else makes during this book is that they think of his wings as these separate entities. There is no gay part and straight part of Simon Snow. All of him is Simon. From the tips of his toes to the tops of his wings, all of him is Simon. He might’ve discovered this part of himself during a tragic point in his life, but that doesn’t mean it has to be something bad. It doesn’t have to be something tainted. 

Sometimes you discover things about yourself during the hardest moments of your life. When you’re already down in the dirt, beaten and bruised, sometimes a mirror is put in front of you and you realize something. You realize you’re trans. You realize you’re gay. And sometimes you resent those realizations because they came to you at the worst possible time. “This is just one more thing on my plate,” you think. 

This series is about reclaiming the things that where taken from you by the ones that hurt you. 

Simon’s going to have to learn to love his wings, because even though they remind him of something that hurts-- hurts more than anything-- they’re part of him. They are him, as much as the rest of his body is. Simon’s going to have to forgive himself, and learn to love himself for all that he is. 

Because all that he is is beautiful. 

We all know it; it’s time for him to understand that.

All right, bitches. Let’s get to the bit we all REALLY care about. this is the one that really fucks me up my dudes. Because it’s Brutal. But anyways here we go.

His wings are the Big Baz Love 

What are the two things that Simon’s  considering cutting off in this book?

“That’s what I’m going to say when I break up with Baz.”

“Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready.”

(Chapter 2, Epilogue)

Yikes!

My guys..... Simon and Baz don’t kiss unless Simon’s wings are out.

I truly do not understand how some of you are out here saying Simon’s gonna lose his wings I really don’t. It’s stressful. I’m stressed. Ms. Rainbow Rowell, you have me stressed. 

His Wings! Are! His Love!

On Love’s Light Wings!

Goatman dances his nasty little fingers all over the bridge that is Baz’s ass? Wings out, uses his tail to help kill the guy. Lamb is hitting on Baz too much? 

“’Spell my wings off.’”

(Chapter 45)

In the airport, when a lady is giving them the “don’t be gay” stink eye he immediately checks to make sure his tail is hidden. 

Baz can’t spell his wings off, guys. 

Baz can’t spell his wings away.

“’Snow needs you to cast your angel spell on him. I hid his wings for breakfast, but they’re still there.’“

(Chapter 19)

In Chapter 41, the biggest kiss scene we get, Simon wraps his wings around Baz to hold him. He’s embracing him in his love guys. Guys. 

Have you people noticed how i’m suddenly less articulate? It’s because i’m in crisis. Set me on fire I wouldn’t notice. I’ve been living with this terrible knowledge.

The first scene we finally see them kiss is after the scene at the Ren Faire when Simon’s wings are finally out and he finally got to fly.

“Simon catches up with me and traps me against the car. He’s kissing me before I see it coming.” 

Simon is so dtf in this scene Penny throws a water bottle at them, and it hits him in the wing. 

“’So hot,’ Simon Says. ‘Got to see you fight without picking a fight with you myself.’

Bunce throws a plastic bottle over my shoulder, and it smacks Simon in the wing.”

(Chapter 22)

She had to smack him right in the love for him to calm down, my dudes, my guys. Do you realize how hard it was for me to annotate this goddamn book with this knowledge? Every. Single. Time. Simon stretches a wing or flaps them around it’s about Baz. It gets to the point where you have to put the book down or you’re gonna explode. 

Simon’s wings are always out around Lamb. He’s jealous as hell and he hates that motherfucker’s guts. The only real injuries Simon sustains in this book are to his wings and they’re almost always when Baz gets hurt too. 

When did Simon get his wings? Only a day after he first kissed Baz.

Simon’s love for Baz is so big and so obnoxious he can’t hide it. His wings and tail have spikes, because that’s all Simon knows. He’s rough around the edges, he’s been hurt, he’s been used.

He’s never been in love before.

His love is spiky; it’s loud. It’s hotrod red and you can’t miss it when it’s out. Baz can’t see it, because Simon’s tucked it away. He hasn’t flown with it. He hasn’t wrapped it around Baz in so long. He doesn’t know how to handle a love this big, where to put it, when to unfurl it. 

Simon gets jealous. He gets scared. He’s insecure. He wants so dearly to finally give to someone instead of feeling like he’s just giving in. Like he’s still just taking from Baz.

What do you do with wings? 

How do you find somewhere safe to fly?

The Resolution.

I said earlier that if Carry On is a story of self-discovery, Wayward Son is a story of self-acceptance.

Simon has to love himself, and learn that his love for Baz is a good thing. As he accepts himself (and his dragon powers evolve go read my dragon simon meta it’s good.) he’s going to start to shine. 

This is a story being told to us with nothing but love. This is a story about a boy that’s his own worst enemy-- as all of us often are. It’s so scary to accept our wings. It’s so scary to accept our fangs. Especially when they’ve come out of such a hideous occurrence. 

We need to accept these dark times and acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, we were made more beautiful because of them. Maybe the light we give after we’ve been in darkness is more vibrant, because we know how scary the dark is. The things that happened to us were horrible, and hideous, and terrifying, but we aren’t. We’re different from how we were before, but we’re still beautiful. 

Simon Snow is going to accept himself.

Simon Snow is going to accept his past.

Simon Snow is going to finally, finally tell Baz he loves him.

And for the first time, Simon Snow is going to see that he’s beautiful.

If you’ve liked this meta you should also check out this one where i explain how they’re finally gonna get their relationship together. Also the one about the scarf

Special thank you to @singerofsimplesongs for listening to me howl and screech about this damn thing. 

Tagging some people that might be interested!

@neck-mole @watfordwallflower @carrybits @theflyingpeach @fight-surrender @shitty-posty-times @wisest-girl @slaying-fictional-dragons @gucciglitzy

[ladyartemisia28]

Loop of Despair: Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Hurts Like Hell

Summary:

Dean Winchester could not believe that his best friend, Castiel was confessing his feelings of love towards him.

But the message does settle in by the 4th or so time that he hears it.

15x18 time loop.

Word count:1978

Warnings:Major Character Death (repeatedly), Language, Suicide/Sacrifice.

Author's note: thank you to @castielsbeeslippers for teaching me to add a READ MORE on mobile💚💙.

~

Chapter Title in reference to the Song 'Hurts like Hell' By Fleurie

~

Dean momentarily blacked out as his heart began to physically fail him. He found himself coming back to consciousnesses standing hunched over near the entrance to the room. Dean sighed in relief as he looked over to see Castiel finishing up painting a protective sigil on the door with his angelic blood.

Dean could feel the literal death grip on his heart ease.

“Did it work?” Castiel asks and receives a nod as an answer. “I blocked her grip on you”

Knock

“Dean she said that wound was killing her.” Cas should with a small bit of hope in his voice. A knock interrupts his words. “Maybe we can wait her out.”

Dean walks away from Cas “Yeah and if we can’t?”

“Then we fight” he replies as he looks back at the door which has another knock coming from it.

“We’ll lose” Dean says as he reaches the chair in the middle of the demon circle. He turns to look at Cas who is now looking back as he continues his negative spiral. “I just led us into another trap.”

Another knock

“All because I couldn’t hurt Chuck” he looks downward. Another knock. “Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill and because that is all I know how to do.”

“Dean” Cas says resolute as he approaches him

“It was Chuck all along.”

Knock

“We never should have left Sam and Jack we should be there with them now”

Knock

“Everybody’s gonna die, Cas. Everybody. I can’t stop it”

Knock

This time they both look at this knock while Dean moved towards Cas

“She’s gonna get through that door ”

Cas looks away from Dean while he replies “I know”

“And she’s gonna kill you. And then she’s gonna kill me”

Cas glances briefly at Dean and then looks away once again.

Dean sighs and looks down before he says “I’m sorry”

Cas looks into the middle distance back and forth like he was going over a plan in his mind. He appears to have found something, gulps and furrows his brow with determination

“Wait there is.”

Dean raises his head and turns his face to look at Cas with the smallest glimmer of hope.

“There’s one thing she’s afraid of. There’s one thing strong enough to stop her.” He finally turns his face to look at the eldest Winchester.

Dean looks at Cas and gulps listening intensely as Cas looks away.

“When Jack was dying, I…I made a deal” Cas returning his eyes to look at him once more. “To save him.”

“You what?”

“The… the price was my life” Cas says his eyes beginning to water with feeling “When I experienced a moment of true happiness The Empty would be summoned and it would take me forever”

Dean’s face was confused as he struggled with a responses.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

Knock

“I always wondered” Cas’s face turned to look away for the briefest of moments before he quickly found the resolve to turn his gaze fully at Dean. “Ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be. What my true happiness could even look like?”

“And I never found a answer”

“Because the one thing I want is something I know I can’t have.”

Knock

Dean is confused and silent.

“But I think I know, I think I know now. Happiness isn’t in the having…it’s in just being it’s in just saying it.”

Dean has to break his silence and ask in confusion.

“What are you talking about Man?”

Cas has a brighter expression on his face as he takes a step forward towards Dean.

“I know, I know how you see yourself Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You’re destructive, you’re angry, You’re Broken. You’re Daddy’s blunt instrument.”

“You think that hate and anger that’s what drives you, that’s who you are.”

“It’s not. And everyone who know so you sees it. Everything you have done the good and the bad you have done for Love.”

“You raise your little brother for love, You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are.”

Dean can no longer hold his gaze.

“You’re the most caring man on earth. You are the most selfless loving human being I will ever know.”

Cas’s sadily smiles

The knocking sounds further away at the moment.

“You know ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell” a tear rolls slowly down Cas’s right eye “Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared I cared. I cared about you, I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack, I cared about the whole world because of you”

“You changed me Dean”

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?” Dean asks still very confused at what was happening.

“Because it is”

“I love you”

“Don’t do this Cas” Dean pleads for him to not be saying these words as a goodbye.

One final knock.

The Empty appears behind Dean and he turns to look. Then quickly back at Cas as the door slams open Billie appearing behind it.

“Cas” Dean starts to say. Too many things are happening at once, he feels overwhelmed.

Cas places his blood covered right hand on to Dean’s left shoulder

“Goodbye Dean”

He shoves Dean to the floor before Dean can protest. Cas gives him one final fond look and then takes a breath.

The Empty grabs both of the otherworldly beings.

Dean is left with the silence before all of the emotion and tears break free.

~

Dean momentarily blacked out as his heart began to physically fail him. He found himself coming back to consciousnesses standing hunched over near the entrance to the room. Dean blinked in confusion as he looked over to see Castiel finishing up painting a protective sigil on the door with his angelic blood.

Dean could feel the literal death grip on his heart ease.

“Did it work?” Cas asks with concern.

“Wha…what’s happening?” Dean asks as he shakes his head to try and clear the fog

“Billie is coming after us.”

Dean stayed silence as Cas continued speaking. His words began to give Dean a sense of déjà vu

“Wait…this” he says quietly to himself.

He stares at Cas who continues telling him about his deal and telling Dean about how he was not a killer and how he was motivated by love.

Once Dean hears the words “I love you” he turns to look behind him a split second faster than he did originally.

He sees the empty and just panics.

“Take me you fucking tar pit!” Dean shouts as he runs full speed at it ignoring the panicked shout of his name behind him.

The inky darkness stilled as he threw himself at it.

~

He found himself coming back to consciousnesses standing hunched over near the entrance to the room. Dean blinked with shock as he looked over to see Castiel finishing up painting a protective sigil on the door with his angelic blood.”

“Did it….”

“Cas, we are in a time loop” Dean interupts

“What?”

“You summon the empty and you…”

“I summon the empty? But how?”

Dean could scream, ‘You fucking idjit! You gave him the idea!’

“You say a whole bunch of shit about me. I think letting me think that you love…”

“What?”

“Which is such a dick move. The way you say it is really…”

“Dean”

“The one thing you can’t have? Like what do you think I’m going to think when you say that?!”

“DEAN!”

“WHAT?!”

“I DO LOVE YOU!”

…

…..

“…what?”

He places his hand back on the same shoulder

“I love you,”

“Uh, like a brother right?” Dean asks with an eyebrow raise. He momentarily forgets about the time loop. Cas gives him a look of amusement.

Dean trys to make sense of what Castiel is saying to him.

“You love me? As in flowers, and chocolates,….uh” Dean gulps before weakly asking “kissing?”

“I’m sorry if this has made you um, uncomfortable. But just saying my truth is what was needed to make me happy. I feel an incredible amount of peace now. I am sorry I was not brave enough to tell you at an earlier time.”

This caused Dean to remember what was coming. Or in this cause, what had already arrived. In his pure confused and shocked state he had completely ignored that The Empty had already made it’s arrival.

“NO!” Dean shouted as he turned to look back and feel the hand hit his shoulder as he heard Cas’s final words to him again.

“Goodbye Dean.”

He was again at the moment where he was pushed away to the ground. This time he happened to find his voice..

“Cas, stop!” He yelled helplessly.

After the disappearance of Castiel happened again Dean just wordlessly screamed at full volume.

~

Dean momentarily blacked out as his heart began to physically fail him. He found himself coming back to consciousnesses standing hunched over near the entrance to the room. Dean blinked this time with anger as he looked over to see Castiel finishing up painting a protective sigil on the door with his angelic blood.

Dean could feel the literal death grip on his heart ease.

“Did it work?”

Dean ignores Cas’s question as he steadys his body and then rushes over to the storage boxes.

‘Okay so telling him did NOT work, Damnit! I see now why Sammy was so pissed off during his Groundhog day loop.’

“We have to find SOMETHING in this room to help us with this!” Dean shouts He makes an angry noise at knock behind him.

“Why do we have all this useless shit!”

“What the fuck is this?!” Dean asks as he holds up spiky crown.

“That is uh the crown of thorns” Cas replies. “That would be of no use to us in this situation.”

“If it can’t stop Billie then WHAT USE IS IT!!!” Dean yells as he throws it full force at the wall.

“There is one thing that is strong enough”

Dean’s head shot up his eyes wide to look at Cas’s face.

“NO no nonono!” he moves back towards him.

“Don’t you dare Cas.” He growled at him with a pointed finger.

“Dean, I have something you need to hear.”

“I will set your fine feathery ass on fire with holy oil if you keep on speaking your truth or whatever.”

He brushed past his accidentally blurted out flirty comment.

Cas tries to start his speech when Dean decks him.

It only gives him brief pause.

All it does is cause him to head tilt and stare at Dean with confused narrowed eyes.

“what, was that Dean?”

“See I AM fueled by ANGER! You can’t tell me otherwise!” Dean laughs mirthlessly. “Don’t lie to me!”

“No you are caring you are fueled by love.”

“No, you are wrong….you have to be wrong…I’m not…you…” Dean protested and waved his hands at Castiel. He then looked away from Cas.

“I know how you see yourself. If anyone was their Daddy’s blunt instrument it would have been me. I remember the first time I saw your soul. It shown bright even after it had been damaged in hell.”

“In my whole existence the only thing that changed me was you, Dean. I cared for the whole world because of you.”

“Please Cas,” Dean’s voice breaks “please don’t, I can’t do this again.”

“Yes you can, you’re strong and brave and you will survive my passing. I have no doubt. ” Cas thought he was just referring to Cas dying once again.

“I love you.”

As he felt the hand land on his shoulder once more Dean felt his lips tremble and tears pour down his face.

“Cas”

The Empty makes it’s entrance.

Castiel tosses him and is stolen once more from Dean.

Dean lets his tired head fall and waits for his next chance to change things.

(3).

~

(2).

[osopine]

Dub Oso: frat boy voice but.. acceptably so. Like he’s the frat boy at parties whos obnoxious with his jokes but is then always asking “are you ok to drive? We’re not leaving you out of things either, are we?” And then joins you at the snack table as you awkwardly loiter. 11/10

Dub Kara: IMMENSELY powerful, holy hell. This is a 24 year old?? Are you deadass? He sounds like Bishonen Bojack Horseman, this is NOT A HUMAN WITH MORTAL VOCAL CHORDS talking. N/A, the scale is broken.

Dub Choro: Normie Kermit. Perfectly appropriate. 10/10, wanna smack him

Dub Ichi: ...Way too normal. Like a kind of background character but not really background character. Yamcha? 5/10.

Dub Jyushi: It is SO PUT ON, it feels like Jyushi’s humor was never meant to be contained in English. Like Japanese was just BARELY capable of getting his unearthly sintax across, but English just completely fails him. It’s like if an American said “I’m in hospital,” rather than, “I’m in the hospital,” it just feels so uncannily off. It’s like a B-list Youtube streamer that you can TELL is forcing their own laughter and KNOWS there’s no offramp from this career. 5/10.

Dub Totty: Probably the best one? They really got his “bitchy bottom” vibe spot on. It actually feels like someone’s speaking voice, unlike the others. I was really worried they’d make his voice too deep or just a carbon copy of whatever Oso’s would be, but with a cartoonishly over the top lisp. Like toxic, stereotypically gay overkill? They didn’t do that. “You’re like the Anti-Viagra.💕” 10/10.

Dub Hatabou: A fucking?? Rugrats?? They’re indistinguishable. They got Tara Strong for this shit? Surely she’s out of their budget. Disgusting, grating, but frankly, appropriate. 10/10.

Dub Iyami: Fucking feral. Barely French at all, as it should be. Like you can tell they said to the guy “can you come off as a dumpster demon? Like a skinny cryptid who eats applecores and lingers behind 7/11 with unnaturally glowy cat eyes in the darkness?” And the VA just NAILED that request. 10/10.

Dub Chibita: I have NOT heard it, I REFUSE to hear it, lest it soil my idealized mental image of him that I’ve been meticulously constructing since 2015. He is my HUSBAND, you canNOT improve upon perfection, many greats have met their downfall trying. Leave him be. ?/10

ok you're like 100% right for oso, choro, ichi, totty

BUT i rly like dub chibita??? i rly like it and love how violent some of his lines are but also you're right it's so hard to improve perfection.

iyami doesn't even say zansu but he sounds so cartoony i feel like it evens out. but like barely.

i love dub jyushi tho!!!! maybe it’s bias bcos that's tmnt 2003 leonardo being goofy but i like him!! i think jyushi's suffering more from the writing than his voice 🤧

karamatsu's markiplier now he does funny let's plays on the internet of baldi's basics

[the-fandom-fuckup]

A bit more for that modern fantasy au I teased a bit ago

Character designs n stuff are slightly based off the official halloween n fantasy ending arts, plus whatever else I wanted to do, so Kiri is a dragon shifter here, Baku is a werewolf, n Ochako is a witch.

There'll probably be a hint of a/b/o dynamics here for weres n shifters, n the idea of alpha!Kiri n alpha!Baku has stuck to me like glue, so that's a thing here also

There's no real plot for this, just these three being dumb n pining, and everyone around them rolling their eyes n dealing with it lmao

I've thought about jobs n first meetings tho, n came up with this. Kiri's a firefighter (along with Tetsu, who is also a dragon shifter, bc I love him and their bro-bond), bc big fire resistent boy running into fires to help people just makes sense. Also I really like the thought of him in the uniform

Ochako works as a self defense instructor with Gunhead at a small gym in town, probably helping people with magic items n stuff on the side for extra cash or smth, I dunno. She might wanna move into a more magically dominant field one day, but she likes the environment of the gym n the regulars that come in n chat between classes. She's also very good at what she does n has put many assholes in their place after they've scoffed at "the cute little girl you have here".

Baku is a "park ranger", n I use quotations bc that's the only title he could really give himself to have any authority over the land he owns. He gives himself more leeway than what some laws may grant, tho tbh if you're coming into his territory with intent to harm those in it, you're lucky to walk away at all just sayin'

He runs an escape park of sorts for weres n shifters to run around during full moons and other times they need to shed their human skin, personally owned so he can avoid all the bullshit regulations n "safety procedures" found in bigger places that try offering the same thing, but ultimately make the shifting process shittier than it needs to be. And words gets around so it gets super popular super fast, n people of all ages come by

Tbh the thought of a teeny tiny wolf, like 10y/o at most running around Baku n trying to get him to play, nipping at his ankles n calling him the pack alpha is really what settled the debate on whether he should be an alpha or omega. And the added image of Baku rolling his eyes n putting on his toughass act but not really minding it as he gets them moving with a tap on the ass, muttering "Fuckin told ya squirt, I'm not your pack alpha. Now find someone else's ankles to bite at, I'm busy", makes me feel really nice

For some first meetings, tbh Kiribaku probably happens first, n they meet when Kiri n Tetsu accidentally trespass on Baku's territory bc they're new to the area n found a big ass lake to soak in during a flight over town, like dude!! Fuck yea that could fit both of us easy, man I haven't soaked in my big form in forever lets go!

And ofc if the giant shadows overhead hadn't tipped him off the security sensors would've so Baku's like who in the FUCK!! N storms off to confront them bc you don't just come on his land like that. That's how people get fucking hurt you dumb assholes 😤😤

N Kiri n Tetsu are mostly just minding their own business, settling down into the lake like aw yea that's the shit, almost passing out bc they'd just had a long day n the water was so cool n the fish eatting the dead skin n shit off their scales was so relaxing. They don't even realise they'd drifted into a light doze when they hear furious snarling n harsh sniffing coming their way, n barely have enough time to get up before Baku comes tearing shit through the trees

And like. Kiri n Tetsu know that they're big boys. Their full sized dragon forms are huge n there's not much out there that scares them, but nobody likes coming face to face with a snarling werewolf, standing in their territory without any warning that you maybe shouldn't be there

Despite the hostile intro, it doesn't take much for the misunderatanding to be cleared up. There's a lot of apologies from Kiri n Tetsu n a lot of irritated snorts from Baku, but they get straightened out. Baku tells them what kinda show he's running n Kiri inatantly get sparkly eyes like dude!! You do that all by yourself?! That's so manly bro you gotta let us help with that

Baku snorts like you don't have to make empty offers if you wanna use the grounds, I don't refuse people unless they pose an actual threat to the others. You guys aren't dangerous, just stupid. N Kiri goes hey rude, but also it's gotta be a lot dealing with all that on your own. We can at least watch out from above, keep an eye on shit or whatever bc face it man, you may be great but even you can't be in multiple places at once.

And the only reason Baku ends up agreeing is bc they pester him about it until he's well past irritated, n he's figured out the only way to shut them up was concede. They can't be there fulltime anyway consudering their professions, but they're sure to help when they can

Kirichako meet at the gym. Kiri's buying a membership or smth bc you gotta keep the stength up bro! Can't be slacking when you're the difference between someone living n someong dying y'know? Ochako's either in a class or dealing with some hothead, her furrowed brows n puffed cheeks distracting Kiri n reminding him of a chipmunk before bud says smth he can't hear but has Ochako seeing red. It doesn't take long for him to end up on his ass n Kiri's just stuck watching, jaw dropped n heart eyes as Ochako tells the guy he can either fix his attitude or find somewhere else to go

Kiri turns to Tetsu like dude holy shit did you see that?? N Tetsu's like yea bro everyone saw it, n Ochako comes up to them like sorry about that. We have a no harassment policy here that some people overstep, n it sucks that we get people coming in that need it enforced but unfortunately it's pretty common.

Then, bc she's still a bit sour, she looks them both dead in the eyes with a fire raging behind hers like if that's not smth you think you can handle then you might as well save us all the hassle n leave now. N they're both like no way that was great, totally understandable, just tell us where to sign

And while she came off as kinda aggressive during their initial meet, Kiri's quick to find she has just as much sweetness to match her bite. He watches her between sets sometimes n sees how kind n gentle she can be with the younger classes that come in, how she doesn't single out people who struggle n instead moves to help n provide tips without making a huge deal of it

She's also one of the first people to come running when someone gets hurt, he finds out. He'd admittedly been more focused on her sparring with Gunhead than he'd been on the super heavy equipment he was using for his reps, n managed to look over at the perfect time to get flustered n drop it directly on his foot. The resounding crack was loud enough to catch quite a bit of attention, tho he knows the equipment is more likely to be damaged than his foot

Ochako doesn't even hesitate to run over n levitate him to take the pressure off of his not broken foot, going "oh my god are you okay?? Someone clear that bench please, he needs to get off his feet now!" N Kiri does appreciate the concern, as embarassing as it may be, n tries to tell her it's really not a big deal, thanks for the help but honestly--

N she rounds on him like say that one more time n you'll be dealing with a broken nose instead, now sit your ass down n let me handle this!! Kiri can't even reply with anything other than a quiet okay😳😳 bc he's always thought her determination was super admirable, but being this close n seeing it burn in her eyes so intensely is taking it to a whole new level n he has no clue how to handle it

Kacchako meeting is kind of a hybrid mix of the other two combined lmao. Baku owns a pack house where he lives with Deku, then later with Kiri, Tetsu, Mina, Kami, n Sero, but he's so busy with the park that he's hardly ever home. N since Ochako's kinda embarassed about her tiny ass appartment, they usually hang out at the pack house to talk over magic studies or gossip over whatever's happened recently. At this point Baku n Ochako have heard of each other but never been around at the same time

Which causes a problem one day while Ochako's in the kitchen making tea when Baku comes home. He'd had a stressful day warding off poachers or smth, n his rut's just a few days away now, so when he opens the door n is greeted with a slightly unfamiliar scent it sends him into a daze, where he stalks to the kitchen before he even knows that he's moving

Ochako knows tho, can hear the low growls and deliberately quiet steps creeping behind her, setting her on edge bc ohhhh my god, someone just broke into Deku's place holy shit!! And when it gets close enough to barely feel hot breath on the back of her neck she's flinging herself into action, all muscle memory as she gets a few quick jabs into Baku's gut. It knocks the question outta his lungs, getting out a choked "who the--" before her magic kicks in and she's picking him up n slamming him down with his weight returned for maximum momentum, body slamming the following "fUCK!!" out as well before she placed her weight on him to keep him down. She gets right in his face demanding "who are you?! How did you get in here?!"

And when he can breathe again Baku snaps back like "who tf am I?!? I live here!! Who tf are you?!?!" And like, she's still in fight mode so she's looking him over like hmm, so this is Bakugou. Then she realises wtf she's doing n goes oh my god it's Bakugou!! N she's jumping off him and apologising so fast that she's barely saying words, trying to take his hands n help him back up but getting swatted away bc you've done enough touching don't you think??

And yea, Baku's kinda pissed. Being attacked in your own house does that to anyone, let alone a pre-rut alpha. But also, he's kinda impressed, bc he can count on one hand the amount of people who've gotten the drop on him like that, but he'd rather die than admit it out loud. So he just huffs at her with a final "try that shit again n I'll kill you", n stalks off to his room, having more important things to worry about right then than who's fucking around in his kitchen

((His rut decides to be completely unhelpful that time around, his alpha brain locking in on the faint perfume she'd left on his shirt while tossing him around and how perfectly it mixed with his own scent, as well as the shirt he nabbed from Kiri's laundry basket the night before. He rubs the scents of these strong potential mates all over his den, knots his rut aid with his face plastered to the shirts then uses it to scent the shirts even more, drunk off of how well their scents all mix together. He's rightfully embarassed during the end when he can start thinking properly again n throws both shirts to the back of his closet to be forgotten about--as much as his alpha fights him on it--n moves on to his business like normal.

Tho if he tries to be home more often when he knows Ochako's coming around, n spends more time in Kiri's space, nobody's mean enough to comment on it. At least, not at first.))

Man I have many feelings about this, but I'll leave it here for now bc I could go on forever

[sinnamonn]

Welcome to Hell Ch2. “Meet Mammon”

Gia meets their new guard demon, “Mammon”. It does not go well. Also because this is my fic and I can do whatever I want Obey me is now in the same universe as It’s Always Sunny.

Word count: 1.7 K

The demon pointed an accusatory finger at the redhead.

Gia resisted the urge to bite it right off.

“Listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once!” He barked, “If you value your life then you’ll hand over all your money now! And anything else of value!”

Was this guy for real!? This bitchass was trying to rob them!? Oh hell no, Gia was not going to get robbed by some twink that still used fucking axe body spray!!

“Otherwise I’ll wipe that—“

“Fuck that and fuck you!” Gia yelled, cutting the demon off mid-threat, “Listen here, asshole, I’m not getting robbed by some twink!”

“Who’re you callin’ a twink!?”

“You, dumbass!”

“You don’t know what you’re dealin’ with, little bitch.” He spat, snarling down at them. Gia only bit back,

“I’m dealin’ with a punkass that’s about to get their shit rocked!”

“Mammon! Shut up or I’ll punch you!” Lucifer snapped, “And Gia, language!”

And then Lucifer just punched Mammon, causing him to stumble back a bit while gripping his head.

“GAH, OW! Hey, what’s the big idea!?” Mammon whined, “I thought you were actually gonna give me a chance to shut up before punching me!”

Satan gestured to his older brother, “Gia, meet Mammon, Avatar of Greed. He oversees all forms of it,” he explained, “whenever he takes a liking to someone they suddenly find themselves awash in money.”

“And he’s a masochist, that part’s important~!” Asmo added, “So I can’t wait to see you put him in his place some more!”

Ok. Ew. Gia didn’t need to know that.

“I didn’t need to know that.” Gia replied flatly.

“And it just so happens I have a job for my masochist of a brother.”Lucifer stated, only to be cut off again by Mammon.

“Quit tellin’ lies! I ain’t asked for that punch and I ain’t a masochist!”

“Mammon, you are going to be charged with seeing to this human’s needs during the exchange.” Lucifer ordered, “I expect your full cooperation.”

“WHAT!?” Both Gia and Mammon yelled at the elder demon.

“Wha!? Why me!?” Mammon exclaimed.

“Yeah, why him!? He literally just tried to rob me!” Gia argued.

“As, lucky you, Mammon! I’m so jealous.” Asmo pouted.

“Then you take them!”

Wait no, Gia got the feeling staying with Asmo might just be worse than Mammon.

“Huh? Hell no. Watching them match your energy is too funny.” He replied quickly.

“You just said you were jealous!” Mammon all but screeched.

“Just give up Mammon. There’s no getting out of this.” Satan looked at though he was holding back laughter, “You know you can’t deny a direct order from Lucifer.”

“But why me!? Why can’t Beel do it?” He whined

“If we hand Gia over to Beel we might as well just tell him to eat them.” Asmo said, now scrolling through his DDD.

“Yeah, I can’t promise I wouldn’t.” Beel agreed.

“...Mammon?” Lucifer asked lowley , his tone was dangerous.

“W-What?”

“Surely you’re not going to tell me you object to this arrangement, are you?”

For the first time, during his introduction, Mammon was quiet. He only held a sour look on his face before loudly groaning, “Ugh, I hate you guys! Fine, I’ll do it, ok!?” His attention turned back to Gia, “As much as I don’t wanna look after you, I’ve got no choice. It’s a huge pain in the ass and I’m too important for this kind of thing.”

Sure buddy, keep telling yourself that.

“But Lucifer told me to do it, so I will. But in return you better not cause me any trouble, got it?!”

Gia took back what she first thought of Mammon. He was worse than the high school boys that got stupidly mad when you didn’t stand for the pledge.

“If you can stay off my dick,” Gia sneered, “we might have a deal.”

“Fine by me, human. Just don’t forget whose boss around here.” Mammon shot back.

“Now that that’s settled,” Lucifer cut in before Gia could say anything else, “Mammon, show them to the house and try not to kill each other.”

‘No promises.’ Gia thought, reluctantly following Mammon out of the hell.

———

That lack of depth perception was really biting Gia in the ass. They felt more like a bird trying to escape a hall of mirrors, bumping into and bouncing off of walls. It also didn’t help that Mammon was practically speedwalking away from them.

“Oi! Human! Would ya pick up the pace, we don’t got all night!” He shouted over his shoulder.

“Oh sorry! Lemme just pop my eye back in and magically gain perfect vision!” They sarcastically called back, “OH WAIT! I can’t!”

Mammon stopped mid-step before turning on his heel and striding over to Gia.

“Wait...you’re missing an eye?” He questioned.

Oh great, was he gonna do that mock-sympathy schick they got more than enough back in their world?

“Damn, Lucifer couldn’t even get a human with all their parts!” He cackled, clenching his gut, as if this were the funniest thing in the world, “He had to grab some broken fucking human! That’s hilarious! ”

Broken....

Did he really just call them BROKEN?

Gia saw red, their lip pulled back into a venomous snarl. How fucking dare he! They were a lot of things but broken was not one of them.

“Oh, I’ll show you broken!”

The redhead kicked the demon’s kneecaps with all this might.

“OW! YOU BITCH!”

Satan and Asmodeus watched as the two left for the House of Lamentation, absolutely transfixed on the two’s interaction. It was like one of Asmodeus’ trashy reality tv shows came to life, neither of them could look away.

“Uh, Lucifer, they’re already fighting.” Satan said, earning a groan from the eldest. Lucifer could feel a migraine coming on, a bad one.

“Oh my god the human just kicked Mammon’s kneecaps!” Asmo laughed, he was recording the entire interaction, “Oh he’s mad!”

“Shit, do I need to intervene?” He asked with only mild concern.

“Hmm, maybe..” Satan watched as Mammon grabbed for Gia, “wait, no he’s just carrying them back to the house.”

————

“PUT ME DOWN!” Gia beat on the demons back, “This is demeaning!”

“Just be happy that the Great Mammon was kind enough to help you!” Mammon shot back, “If you think this is demeaning then imagine how I feel! Why should I have to look after some human !?”

“ Um,bitch, I got isekaied to hell without my consent and now I’m stuck with a bunch of rich boys who reek of ‘I peaked in high school’!”

Mammon gasped, “I did not peak! The Great Mammon only goes up!I’m practically a golden god!”

Why did they feel like they heard that somewhere before? Maybe...back home? Oh shit yeah, Mammon talked exactly like this one guy who owned a bar they’d always go to when they were bored. Wasn’t his name Denny or something?

“And just so we’re clear,” Mammon continued, “it’s not like I can’t say no to Lucifer, okay!?”

Gia didn’t ask.

“I only agreed to babysit you because, um...Well you know, because…...uh…”

“It’s ok, take your time.” Gia said

“Grr! It doesn’t matter! Just don’t go thinking I’m scared of Lucifer or anything! Because I’m not!” He snapped.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Mammon finally put them down when the two got to the house.

Gia whistled, taking in just how...elegant? No, elegant wasn’t the word they were looking for? A better way to describe the house would probably be maximalist. When they entered they were met with a double stairway accented by two gigantic gargoyle statues. Purple wallpaper clung to the walls littered with paintings of people, Allistar Crowley being the only one Gia recognized.

“This is the House of Lamentation. It’s one of the dorms here at RAD.” Mammon explained, stepping forward, “Well, it's not just one of the dorms. It’s the dorm reserved for student council members….and you I guess.” Mammon prattled on, mostly about himself, “Lucifer, Asmo, and the others take every chance they can get to insult me. Callin’ me scum, sayin’ I’m a money- grabber and stuff…..”

Gia was really only half paying attention, they opted rather to try and figure out who the other people in the photos were. Cultists, perhaps?

“...In other words, I’m a big shot. A real big shot. Like, even other big shots are impressed by—hey are you even listening!?”

“Hm? Sorry, what? I got distracted by the pictures.” Gia gestured loosely to the walls.

Mammon growled, “I was just saying, don’t you go thinkingI’m just some ordinary demon. I’m nothing like those other peons walking the halls here.”

“Ok, cool. Figured as much.” Gia shrugged

“So I suggest-wait what?”

“I figured all of you were pretty powerful, why else would Diavolo leave me with all of you? Demons eat humans, so you put the human with your most powerful and loyal demons as protectors.” Gia elaborated, “So that implies that you’re the most trustworthy and capable of this task, right? Even if you did..try to rob me. But why else would Lucifer and the rest of your brothers leave me in your care?”

Mammon stared wide-eyed down at Gia, they could practically see the gears turning in his head—wait did his cheeks get darker?

He turned around before Gia could really tell, “Well-I’m—I mean!—Duh, of course the Great Mammon is capable!!” He sputtered, “B-But don’t think flattery is getting you anywhere! You’re still just some stupid human!”

“I wasn’t trying to, it’s just logic.”

“SHUT UP. Just-! Let’s just go to your room, OK!?”

Instead of lugging Gia over his shoulder, Mammon instead grabbed their wrist and began dragging them up the stairs, avoiding looking at them.

“Ow! Fine! Lay off the dragging, though!”

Gia’s room was cottagecore as fuck. That was the only way they could best describe it. The room looked like it had been taken out of a fairytale book, it wasn’t exactly Gia’s style but they could appreciate the aesthetic. Objectively, the room was very pretty. That idea was hammered in the more Gia explored it.

It was bigger than the apartment they shared with their mom. In truth, it was more like a closet that somehow fit a bed and dresser.

“Holy shit this bed is soft.” Gia commented once they flopped onto the comforter, “And these pillows! They’re not flat! I forgot they could be fluffy.”

“Oi, human, I got some advice for you,” Mammon leaned over the bed, “ If you wanna survive even a day here in the Devildom, you’d better listen real close to what I’m about to say.”

“Aight.” Gia turned their attention back to the demon.

“If it ever looks like a demon is about to attack you..run. Either that, or die.” Mammon said grimly.

“That’s...Honestly not the worst advice I’ve ever gotten.” They replied.

“How about I vote you to die, Mammon!”

Gia jumped at the new voice, shooting up out of the bed and looking towards the door frame. There stood a pissed off looking guy with purple hair, glaring daggers at Mammon

“AH..! Levi…!” Mammon exclaimed.

[bradie-valentine]

To Live in a House That is Haunted

By Bradie Valentine

The afternoon sun bakes me through the windshield as I drive towards Leah’s house. She hasn’t answered my texts in a couple of days. Not that unusual for her, even before this silence. And yet I’m still on my way to check on her. We’ve been basically inseparable since we bonded over our family troubles in grade three and this is the longest we haven’t seen each other since then. The quiet from her side of our friendship has gestated long enough.

When I pull up to her house, a wave of unease washes over me. The house looks almost the same as it usually does, but just slightly off. The grass is way too long and I can see a pile of mush near the mailbox, the storms of summer turning her mail into pulp. As I head towards the house, parting the long grass that tickles my legs, I notice the stack of oak she bought a few months ago. The wood is bloated and full of wet rot, another victim of the January showers.

Don’t get me wrong, Leah has always been quiet, reserved. But this is different. Besides the occasional ‘I’m still alive’ text, I’ve barely interacted with her in the past two months. I can’t exactly blame her though. I can understand why she hasn’t been feeling very social. Her husband, Brian, died two months ago; the death of Leah’s voice immediately following.

I was with her that day, the day cops turned up to deliver the news. We were in the lounge room, chatting about Leah’s upcoming carpentry projects when there was a knock at the door. Leah answered it, there was some muffled chatter and then a sorrowful screech, like an animal caught in a trap. I leapt up from the couch just in time to see Leah collapse in on herself. The strong statue of the woman I knew, reduced to a pile of discarded tissues; delicate and tear soaked.

It was a freak accident that killed her Brian. A bump on the head at work. Rushed to the hospital, and he was dead on arrival. We found out later that the knock had popped a massive aneurysm that was nesting between the folds of his brain.

I take a deep breath and rap on the door a couple times but Leah doesn’t answer. I pause for a few seconds, knock, pause again, and knock again. I pull out my phone and text her, a drop of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. The heat and worry working together to slick my skin. I try calling too, but the phone rings out. Usually I wouldn’t bother worrying over Leah, but since Brian, grief has metamorphosed her, leeching both her light and strength. I think I should go, maybe come back later, but then I notice the sound of music. Leonard Cohen’s deep voice emanates from within the house. I try the handle and it’s unlocked, as soon as I open the door I get hit with the foulest stench of my life, even worse than when I used to get paid to wash down animal cages at the local vet. The stench clogs my nostrils and makes my mouth water with pre-vomit saliva.

I call out to Leah and get no response in return. Covering my nose, I start down the hallway, passing picture frames filled with photos of the happy couple. I call out again and I still don’t get a reply. Oh god, I should have come sooner. As I approach the bedroom, I hear a buzzing. I can’t place it for a second, and then I realise, it’s flies, a swarm of flies.

It’s all making sense, her favourite album playing, their wedding anniversary is coming up. The stench of sickly sweet death crowding the hallway. Leah has killed herself and now a horde insects are busy getting comfortable in the rancid warmth of her lifeless corpse.

I brace myself, a few steps and I’ll be able to see the bedroom, the carnage Leah has made of herself. And then I hear a laugh, Leah's laugh. The fear mixes with confusion and I’m so disorientated, I stumble the last couple steps forward and then I see them.

Leah is lying on the bed, holding Brian’s hand. It takes me a second to realise that the swollen form on the bed is indeed Brian. The flies have made their home here a while ago. There is a split in Brian’s belly where the gasses of rot have burst him open. Maggots spill off Brian and wiggle across Leah, like they can’t even tell anymore where the death ends and the living begins.

I turn away and run for the kitchen. My stomach is roiling and lurching. I only make it halfway and end up vomiting on the floor. Bile and this morning's toast exploding from my mouth.

“Hi”

I look at Leah. She’s knobbly and bony where she used to be muscular. There’s a stain down the left side of her night gown. It’s yellowy thickness let’s me know it’s broken down fat that has leached out of Brian and onto her. As if he was trying to offer back some of the bulk that weeks in bed have taken from her.

I’m still gagging when she starts talking.

“I dug him up, after the funeral. I brought a shovel with me.”

“Why?” 

“I was getting ready for the funeral and all I could think about is how he would be so lonely in the ground. You know how much he hated being without me.”

“Leah, this is fucking crazy, you know that right? I love you but holy shit. You need help Leah… you need serious help.”

She just turns away and walks back to the bedroom. 

“Leah, stop! I’m serious.”

She doesn’t listen to me. I follow her down the hallway and watch her climb into bed next to the mass of degrading flesh in a burial suit. 

The liquid of his body has seeped into the mattress and the carpet beneath their bed. No one is ever going to be able to scrub him from the carpet or the floor below. An oily stain has spread up the wall above him, a halo made from his desecration. Brian now has a permanence he never had before. I wonder for a second what will happen to this house after they’re gone. Who would even want it now?

“Go away,” She says.

“Leah please”

She stays silent, just staring at Brian’s empty face.

“This is beyond fucked up, I’m getting you out of here. If… if you don’t come with me, I’ll call the police. They’ll be able to drag you out”

There is another long pause, and I almost think she has forgotten I’m here. She’s so clearly out of it.

“Please… please just let me say goodbye” She finally replies, “I need to say goodbye. I didn’t get to say it last time, please“

She leans in close to the bloat and starts whispering. I feel like I’m watching something I shouldn’t. I head for the front door, for fresh air. As I’m walking through the house, I realise all of the pictures on the wall that used to be of parents and cousins and nieces have been replaced. 

They’re all of Leah with Brian’s body. All taken in the house. In one, Brian is propped up on the couch. Leah is sitting straight, like she’s posing for a portrait. The self timer on her phone capturing a record of her depravity. The photos all vary in poses and states of decomposition. The latest one I find is of them in bed. Brian already shiny and slick, his body bloated and gnarled. Leah has an arm around him and her head on his chest.

The front door is calling to me, fresh air and a reprieve from the incessant vibration of insect life. I reach for the handle when I notice the frame right by the door. The photo is of Leah, Brian and I at their wedding. It was Leah's favourite of the night, the three of us caught in laughter together. I sigh and head for the lounge room instead, climb the couch and slide open the window, pressing my face to the fly screen, breathing deeply the outside air.

The light tap, tap, tap of Leah’s steps announce her presence in the hallway.

“It’s okay now,” she says, “I got to say goodbye. We can put him back and no one has to know. You don’t have to call the police or anything.”

“Leah, you dug up his body, I can’t just pretend like that didn't happen.”

“Please! If anyone finds out, they’ll put me away. I don’t want to be alone. I lost Brian, I can’t lose everyone else as well.”

She’s just standing there in her yellowed nightgown, hands wringing each other. Leah looks so young, so helpless, like she’s in third grade again. Actually, she reminds me more of myself when I was in third grade. Unsure, broken, needing someone to look after me. Leah was the one who took care of me then, she was my person. Now I have to be that for her.

“Alright,” I say, getting up from the couch, “you get the gloves and aprons, I’ll get the rope.”

Standing in the bedroom, decked out in aprons, gloves, and face masks, we stare at the pile of flesh on top of the mattress. Assessing the best course of action, I really stare at Brian. Once a man, a great man at that, he is now somewhere between human and object. Tender and fragile, a bag of rot. Meat, past its use by date. A spoiled egg, one sharp prod and he’ll pop like a runny yolk. We have to be gentle.

Next to the bed, we lay the blue tarp I grabbed from the shed across the floor. Leah climbs up beside Brian, the movement jostles him, shaking the fluid filling his skin, wobbling like an oversized hot water bottle. Bracing myself over the tarp we grab his arms and pull him towards the ground, our fingers sink into his raw sausage meat arms. He slips from our hands a couple inches from the floor, with a wet slap he hits the ground. We rear back, and Leah spews a startled cry. The gash in Brian’s stomach yawns wider and a rush of melted organs spill from his open body; a thick grotesque puff of odour erupting with it. Following closely behind, a swarm of flies and maggots escape his bodily cavity, startled from their reverie.

Shocked still for a moment, we spring to life and scramble out of the room and slam the door shut. Leah slides to the floor, moaning and crying.

“What do we do now?” She asks me.

Dropping to the floor, I gather her gently into my lap. Trying not to think about bits of Brian swill getting all over me, I pat her matted hair.

“We take care of you now, the way you took care of Brian, the way you’ve taken care of me. Whatever that means.”

“Okay,” she says, “okay.”

Once Leah is soundly asleep, I dial triple zero. The operator seems a bit surprised by the situation I describe.

“My friend dug up her husband’s dead body and had been living with it for two months, can you send an ambulance over?”

“Uh, yeah. Right away.”

Once again, Leah and I are startled by a knock at her front door. I’m the one who answers it this time. Leah stands at the end of the hallway, she must look frightening to these strangers. Gaunt and covered in sludge, sticky with the putrid stench of the death that was stewing in that once pristine bedroom. They’re gentle with her, she goes with them willingly. We finally get outside, the freshness of the crisp air disorientating. Leah stops and turns to me.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this,” she says.

“Anytime,” I say.

We both laugh a little bit.

“Leah?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll be okay. Eventually, things will be better.”

“I know,” She says, “will you be okay, without me around?”

I think it’s a joke. Her, also trying to lighten the mood. I answer her seriously anyway.

“Yes, Leah. I think I will.”

[flowerslut]

DAY ONE: HUMAN/VAMPIRE  Rated: T for language Words: 2,824

A/N: It’s day one and I’m already cheating.

Fully kidding. It’s entirely on-theme. It just so happens to be the first chapter of the brain-worm that dug itself into my skull a couple of weeks ago. The human Jasper/vampire Alice fit that I never thought I’d write. Enjoy the drama.

EDGE OF IT ALL

With a deep breath he inhaled steadily, closing his eyes as he let the cigarette calm him. Upon his exhale he opened his eyes, watching as the smoke mingled with his own breath, both evaporating in the cold air. The rain fell hard around him as he leaned up against the wet bark of the tree.

He wasn’t entirely out of the way of the constant downpour; his clothes were dampened with a fine layer of rainwater. But the slight cover that the canopy of trees provided him with was the best amount of protection he was going to get out there. He ignored the shiver that fought it’s way free and pulled his jacket tighter around him.

It was bad enough that he’d cut class, but now there was no way he’d be able to return in time for sixth period. And even if he did—if he stomped out his cigarette and rushed back to the math and sciences building—Ms. Sanborn would see his drenched state, smell the smoke on his clothes and send him straight to the office. He didn’t want them to call Wilson any more than he was sure the man wanted to be interrupted on a work day.

At the breakfast table he’d pleaded with Jasper to not cause any trouble today; his foster father had an important meeting with the nurses under his charge at the clinic today. The portly man wasn’t a nurse himself—administrative duties had been his calling, apparently—but sometimes the man spoke with an air that made Jasper wonder if the guy really thought he was as important as the health care providers that actually treated patients.

It annoyed Jasper on a good day, but today it had been borderline intolerable.

He’d tried, at least. He’d stuck it out until lunch period and then that annoying fuck Colson just had to make some remark in passing that it was a good thing college applications charged a fee, saying it ‘weeded out the dumbasses whose parents couldn’t afford school anyway.’ 

Jasper hadn’t even hit the guy, even after the snob had pointedly eyed Jasper as they walked by the corner of the lunch room he typically occupied. He hadn’t even said anything in reply to the remark! Really, it was a testament to some sort of self-control Jasper had been scavenging together over the past ten months at the tiny school. The fact that he hadn’t ended the day suspended should be seen as a gift to Wilson.

And truly he wasn’t hurting anyone in skipping class. He was failing pre-calc anyways. And then after that was art. Which was so easy he could probably skip the rest of the school year and still score at least a B.

That was one of the plus sides to a school (and a town) as small as Forks. Back in Oakland—and even in Seattle, although he’d only been there for a month and a half—the school resource officer would’ve been out, scouring the grounds for him by now. Here, there weren’t even metal detectors by the doors. It was bizarre in the most liberating of ways.

Not that he brought his knife to school anymore anyways. Wilson and Meg had begged him to leave it in his room. He should’ve found himself grateful that they didn’t confiscate it from him fully.

“If it helps him feel safe, it’s fine,” he’d overheard his foster mother, Meg, explaining to her conservative husband a few weeks after he’d arrived.

“He has a history of violence,” his foster father had growled back, not even attempting to be quiet. Jasper hadn’t felt bad about listening in when there wasn’t much of an attempt at subtlety.

“Violence when threatened,” he could almost picture Meg rolling her eyes, dismissing her husband’s valid concerns the way she often did. The sound of a cabinet opening and closing had given Jasper all he context clues he needed, and when he’d heard the pop of a bottle he just knew that she was about to down her nightly bottle of wine. “What’s going to threaten him out here? The rain? A wandering coyote? Relax, Wil.”

They weren’t the best placement he’d been given, in Jasper’s opinion. But they were far from the worst.

Tugging his damp sleeves further down his arms Jasper reached to his back pocket and retrieved another cigarette from the carton. He’d already told himself that his previous one would be his last one of the day, but then he’d realized that there was no way he was going to make it back to school. Might as well light up a couple more.

When he started flicking his lighter, he swore loudly when a thick raindrop fell through the canopy and perfectly into the lighter’s opening, extinguishing the flame he’d just ignited. He flicked it several times after that, swearing again when the stupid thing refused to even spark. Out of frustration he let the unlit cigarette fall from his lips, tossing the now-useless lighter deep into the woods.

Great. Just fucking perfect. He did have a shift at the new convenience store in town tomorrow, meaning he’d be able to snag a few more lighters before he clocked out, but that felt too far away.

Leaning his head back against he tree he thought to himself, attempting to come up with a decent enough excuse to get Wilson off of his back tonight. No doubt the school had already called both the house phone as well as his and Meg’s cell phones. The fact that his own shitty prepaid phone hadn’t rung yet was surprising. Usually Wilson liked to let Jasper know how disappointed he was in him the instant said disappointment struck the man.

His daydreams were cut short when suddenly something small came flying at him, hitting him square in the chest too quickly for him to dodge.

“Oof,” Jasper leaned forward, his hands moving to grab at his chest. He was caught so off guard that he had no idea what had even struck him, but whatever it was had been moving so fast that Jasper wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t bleeding beneath his shirt. The projectile had felt small and metal.

For half of a second Jasper thought that maybe he was shot, but quickly he dismissed the thought. He hadn’t heard a peep and besides, he’d learned from others exactly what being shot felt like, and this feeling—while still acutely painful—didn’t compare.

“Sorry!” A woman’s voice called from somewhere high up in the canopy, causing Jasper to almost jump out of his own skin. His head quickly lifted, searching for the source of the words. “I didn’t mean to throw that so hard!”

Who the fuck…?

It was there, on the ground in front of him, that he saw it: his broken, red lighter. The one he’d tossed far into the forest barely minutes before.

Someone else was out here with him, and she had an arm that would put most major league baseball players to shame.

Her voice was high, almost bell-like with her apology. It wasn’t a voice Jasper recognized as he wracked his brain, trying to place it with a face he knew from school.

“What—where are you?” He called out, hand still against his chest as he stepped out from the cover of the trees and lifted his eyes to the canopy once more. Her voice sounded impossibly high up. There was no way someone could climb any of these trees without a ladder, he realized as he blinked up into the oncoming rain.

Then, a blur of movement as something—no, someone—fell from high above, landing only feet away from him.

“Jesus Christ!” He screamed, unable to help himself as he stumbled back a few steps. With one arm half-way outstretched, he didn’t have time to stumble back toward the girl—holy shit she’d jumped fucking hell there’s no way she survived that these trees are massive oh god some girl just fucking killed herself in front of him—he found himself stunned into silence when his eyes fell upon the girl standing before him, completely unharmed.

“Hi!” She greeted cheerily, smiling widely up at him.

Jasper wondered if she’d thrown something else at him, because suddenly all the air left his lungs and he was stuck there motionless, staring at the girl in front of him.

She was beautiful. Almost otherworldly so. Her hair was cropped short around her face, longer strands sticking to her pale cheeks due to the rain. Her clothes were ill-fitting—and were those holes in the sweater that almost swallowed her slight frame whole?—and she was completely barefoot.

Not to mention her eyes were a bright, vivid red.

The instant his eyes landed on hers he took an involuntary step backward. Sure, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire eighteen years on this planet, but that one glance into her own gaze broke whatever trance she’d placed him in and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to raise.

It wasn’t that he’d never seen anyone wear colored lenses before. But this crossed over from weird to just plain eerie with the rest of her appearance alone.

Her face crumbled as he took another step backwards. “No! It’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you, I—” but as she inhaled her face was suddenly pained, and in the blink of an eye she was suddenly fifty yards away, just barely visible across the clearing.

Moving slowly, Jasper felt his heart rate begin to skyrocket as he took another step backward. He had to move. He had to find his bag. He had to find his shit now and get the fuck out of there before—

“No!” And in another blink she was behind him, standing just between him and his ratty old backpack. “Please, I’m sorry. I know I’m going about this all wrong but—”

“What the fuck are—” it was too easy to slip on the wet leaves beneath his feet, and as Jasper landed on his ass in a puddle he couldn’t help but scurry backward any way he could. He was either losing his goddamn mind, or he was about to die. Maybe both. “Get—get away from me!” He yelled, swatting a hand ahead of him, feeling very much like a fool. Like a caveman swinging a torch toward a lion; a silly, feeble motion.

“No, Jasper, shh,” her eyes were wide then, and when she lifted her hands up toward him, as if trying to calm a wild animal, her sleeves fell backward. Jasper’s eyes locked onto the blood beneath her fingernails and in that moment he was certain he was going to die.

He stopped attempting to escape in that moment. “How the fuck do you know my name?” He demanded of the girl—the demon—the thing—as he worked to keep his voice even. She didn’t need to know that he was scared out of his wits. Truthfully, she definitely already knew it. After all he was on his ass in the middle of a puddle, not too far from wetting himself if he were being entirely honest.

He knew he’d fight his way back to the school if he had to, but somehow the idea of defending himself against this tiny girl seemed like a laughable idea.

“I’m messing this up so bad. No, no, no.” Then, her eyes flickered back toward where the school was. Jasper followed her gaze, but when he lifted his eyes back up, she was gone.

“Hello?” He called out, his voice shaking as he waited for her to reappear somewhere else around him.

He nearly pissed his pants when he turned his head back toward the school and Edward Cullen was standing there, staring out into the clearing with his weird, wide, golden eyes. Coming up behind him was none other than his brother, Emmett.

“Did you see that?” Jasper blurted out, desperate to know that he wasn’t crazy, that the Cullen boys had seen the demon girl, too.

Edward looked at him strangely then, and Jasper couldn’t help but think that the younger boy was seeing straight through him. But when the bronze-haired Cullen shrugged, looking around the clearing, as if confused, Jasper felt his heart sink. “See what?”

“You good man?” Emmett asked, jogging up to where Jasper was laying in the mud. The oldest Cullen had always been the nicest out of all of them. Not that the others were mean, but they certainly weren’t the friendliest group of people.

He’d known who they were even before he’d even started his first day. Meg and Wilson had told him all about the Cullen siblings and the Hale girls before he’d started. “They’re foster kids, too. Good kids. Maybe try hanging out with them!”

As if it would be a normal thing to do; approach the only other outcasts in the school and form what? A friendship? An alliance of weirdos? Jasper had never attempted to even talk to them.

Emmett reached down toward Jasper and he grabbed the offered hand firmly, letting the larger boy pull him up onto his feet.

Jasper frowned as Emmett released his grip. If his hands were that cold then Jasper’s had to be far worse. It was then that he was reminded just how freezing it was outside, as the rain continued to pour down on them, unrelenting. “What happened?” The dark-haired guy asked, also surveying the area with careful eyes.

“I—” But Jasper didn’t want to sound like a complete lunatic and he also had no idea how to describe what the fuck had just happened. “There was… a girl?”

“A girl?” Emmett raised an eyebrow, then his expression morphed and suddenly he looked like he was biting back a grin. “If Sanborn knew you were cutting class to hook up with a girl she’d have an aneurism.”

“I—that’s not—”

“Emmett,” Edward rolled his eyes, before turning back toward the school, “Come on.”

“What were you two doing out here?” Jasper flipped the script on them as quick as he could, hating how his face was probably bright red at the insinuation.

Emmett laughed, “Leaving early to drive this one to a doctor’s appointment,” he jutted a thumb over his shoulder toward his brother, “and we were nearly to the car when we swore we heard the sound of someone screaming.” He eyed Jasper pointedly, his eyes once more traveling around the forest. “Y’know there’s bears out here. You should be careful.”

Jasper snorted, reaching around and wiping wet leaves off his pants, then he skulked over to where he’d dropped his bag and picked it back up, flinging it over his shoulder. “There aren’t bears out here.”

“That you know about!” Emmett pointed a finger just as Edward cleared his throat, apparently tired of being in Jasper’s presence. This was what Jasper meant when he said Emmett was at least friendly. His siblings, not so much. 

“Let’s go, Emmett.” If Edward had started tapping his foot Jasper wouldn’t have been surprised. He reminded Jasper of some stuck-up mom sick of waiting in line at an overcrowded Starbucks.

(Yet another normal, regular thing Forks didn’t even have.)

“Need a lift?” Emmett offered, ignoring his brother and turning fully toward Jasper. “I doubt you’re going back to class and we drive right by your street anyways.” Then he paused, “You live off Hill, right?”

Jasper nodded. “Actually, yeah. If you don’t mind.” Truthfully Jasper didn’t want to spend one more second in these woods, especially if that demon girl was going to show up again. As he turned to follow Emmett his eyes met Edward’s glare. “What?”

Edward didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t move. So when Emmett strode right past him, Jasper close behind, he couldn’t help but think to himself, what the fuck is your problem? as he walked by. But it wasn’t until he and Emmett were several strides away that Jasper swore he heard something.

A growl of some sort, coming from where Edward was still standing, facing the clearing. Jasper turned to look, suddenly wondering what the hell that noise was, when Emmett reached out and grabbed the blond’s shoulder.

“Watch out,” he said, just as Jasper stumbled across an over-grown root.

Catching himself he was thankful for Emmett’s outstretched arm. Clinging to it, he steadied himself, feeling like an idiot as he quietly thanked the guy. When Jasper finally turned his head, Edward was already following after them, his expression severe.

But even as they made it to the car, Jasper pulling his hood up over his head to prevent any of the teachers from recognizing him walking with the Cullen boys, Jasper couldn’t help but wonder what that noise was.

And who that girl was.

[delaneytveit]

Satellites Part 16

Insomnia at its finest! wow, 3 chapters in one day, amazing! This has now turned into the How I Wish the Writers Handled Lance’s trauma. because lets be honest, we did not get that in the show, and I will mourn it until my dying breath! 

So what else will we learn about Project Leo and Lance’s time as a captive? Let’s find out! 

As always, here are my twitter handles if any of you want to follow me or yell at me or anything. 

Twitter - sfw -> @/spacemom_laney | nsfw -> @15_agentwash

and maybe buy me a coffee??

ko-fi - ko-fi.com/delaneym_15

oh, and before I forget! TW: blood, gore, death?, corpses

(part 15) (Masterpost) (part 17)

The mission had been approved an hour before they were to embark. As simple as it seemed on paper, there was nothing simple about it. They were to go to the exact facility that Lance had been held in.

Lance was to return to the place that had taken everything from him. The place that had broken him and made him into their own perfect image. It made him sick to even think about it. They thought they were helping him, making him stronger, better, faster. They thought that what they were doing was just and that their findings could be used by the very empire trying to colonize the entirety of the universe.

Lance had never believed anyone could be evil, not the pure kind in which they held absolutely no shred of humanity. He had never believed that anyone could be so deprived of morality. They had changed that.

His time in the lab, and in the prison before it, had changed that. He had been exposed to people who treated him as nothing more than an experiment, people who found enjoyment in his pain and torture. He had found people who would so easily deliver pain to anyone they deemed as below them, take power away from the already powerless.

He was going back.

But this time it was different.

This time it was on his own terms.

The argument over whether or not Lance should accompany the rest of the team on the mission was surprisingly brief. Allura had been very adamant about ensuring Lance’s dependability, regardless of his mental state. And frankly no one could really argue against her due to the fact that Lance was the only one who knew the layout of the facility.

He had been the only one able to escape after all.

The flight to the ship was brief. Allura had wormhole the castle to a neighboring gas planet that it was able to hide behind. Due to the Green Lion’s ability to remain undetected, the paladins each boarded it, and Pidge was the only one to pilot to the facility. In just under 20 dobashes, the Green Lion had made its way onto the ship.

Keith was the first out of the Green Lion, activating his bayard and plunging it into the steel outer wall of the ship. In a few ticks he had successfully cut a circular hole wide enough for the team to slip through individually.

Up until now, no one had really noticed the lack of security of the facility. No one except for Lance.

The last time he had been here, it had been hell to get out. Patrol ships were everywhere and the large ion cannon would have shot anything down within half a tick. It was weird how quiet the facility and the area around it was, and he most certainly didn’t like it.

“Keep your eyes open,” Lance called over the comms just as his feet touched the floor of a familiar hallway. “Something’s not right.”

“Lance is right.” Shiro announced, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

Once everyone had successfully boarded, Lance wasted no time in leading them down the ever winding hallways. He was honestly surprised he was able to remember the path. He had only walked it once, and it was more of a wild sprint than a walk, but the path came with ease.

He knew something wasn’t right from the very beginning. In no way should a team of five paladins be able to simply walk into a heavily guarded lab facility. They should have encountered at least a dozen sentries since they even stepped foot on the ship, and yet, nothing.

He didn’t like being back, the memories were much too overwhelming, but he needed to do this. He needed to put on a brave face for the team. He needed to get them to the people that needed them the most.

He could break down later. Until he turned down one specific hallway.

“Where are you taking me? Who are you?”

“Subject 7234, you are in distress. Please I need you to-”

“Stop calling me that! That’s not my name!”

“Subject 7234, I really must encourage you to calm down, you’ve already ripped your stitches.”

Lance looked down. He hadn’t even felt it. He should have felt it, the pain of it, filling his abdomen. It was only the thick dark blood that told him she was right.

“What are you doing to me?” he yelled, he couldn’t move his arms to wipe the tears from his eyes. He was tied to a bed again, at the mercy of Clipboard and her assistants. The squeak of the wheels was loud as they wheeled him down the hallway.

The vision evaporated almost immediately as Keith grasped Lance’s hand.

“Hey, you okay?” The red paladin scanned his face, searching for anything that could possibly give him an answer.

Lance took a second to breathe before he steeled himself. “I’m fine.” He turned and made his way to continue down the long hallway.

Not now.

It was much too quiet. It made him uneasy, and it was clear that the team was equally as confused and were likely thinking the same thing.

Where is everyone?

After a few more long hallways, a few more twists and turns, the armed paladins finally made it to the infamous lab itself.

Like the room he had been held in, the walls of the lab were made entirely out of glass, thick and at the time virtually unbreakable. And yet, shards were everywhere. The entire wall had been smashed and glass had spilt over the otherwise empty hallway.

Hunk cleared his throat, “What...happened?”

Lance had been thinking that exact same thing.

Shaking his head, Lance responded. “I-I don’t know.”

“...Mmmaybe we should head back?” Keith had placed his hand on Lance’s arm, apparently trying in some way to comfort the obviously affected paladin.

“No, we keep going.”

“Lance-”

“We owe it to them, Keith! We have to search for survivors.”

“Lance, do you really think that there is anyone still alive on this ship?” Pidge questioned. She was beyond skeptical. The destruction she could see of the room before her only fueled it.

There was a long silence before Lance moved out of Keith’s grip. With long legs, Lance stepped over the broken sill and into the destroyed lab.

“We have to try.”

As much as Shiro wanted to just turn back, there seemed no way to convince the Blue paladin of such. He was too focused, too determined. The only way to get him to leave prematurely would be to drag him out kicking and screaming. For the sake of Lance, and whoever would have to carry him out of the ship, he decided against the notion and instead turned to the remainder of his team.

“Alright guys, split up but keep you comms on. If you run into any trouble just say the word.” He announced. The group nodded and followed the suit of Lance, into the lab.

As much as Keith wanted to follow Lance, he knew that doing so could only do more harm than good. This was something Lance had to do on his own. So he made his way through the room, to the opposite side of where Lance was walking.

More glass littered the floor as it seemed that everything in the room had been completely destroyed. Test tubes and glassware were shattered. Debris was everywhere. Someone had done this on purpose. Someone had wanted to erase whatever work had been done here.

He couldn’t say he was sorry for it. All that they had done to Lance, in his mind they deserved it. He hated them for what they did to Lance.

The small amount of satisfaction had quickly dissipated once he walked closer to one of the aisles of lab tables. At the far end, staring back at him, was a corpse.

The body slouched against the wall, its chest ripped apart and blood was splattered everywhere.

“Holy shit.”

Shiro wasn’t doing any better. He had found three more bodies scattered throughout one of the storage rooms. Each with their chests ripped open, their mouths open in a silent scream.

Pidge and Hunk had set up working on one of the only non destroyed computers hopeful that they could somehow get some information out of it.

Lance had taken his own path, towards the back of the room. The place he called home for 5 months. The room stood no longer. The glass having been given the same fate as everything else. The only evidence that it had even stood was the foundation. The metal that kept the glass connected to the floor.

Without the frosted vision, he was able to make out 6 more foundations. Six more rooms. Six more patients. Five bodies discarded among the debris, now nothing more than nameless faces.

Six experiments.

Four successful trials.

Only one survivor.

It wasn’t until then that Lance noticed the archway behind the holding cells. It must have been obscured before. Or maybe he had just never chanced a look behind him. But it was there now, standing in front of a lightless hallway.

Slowly he made his way towards it. Crossing the threshold, Lance took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust.

The hallway was completely new territory, one he hadn’t even known existed, though he explored it all the same. The fluorescent light at the end of it flickered from where it hung haphazardly from the ceiling, giving off the only bright light in the area.

Lance took a step, then another before he heard something.

“Did you say something guys?” he asked over the comms and various negative responses answered him.

“You good, man?” Lance heard Hunk say.

“Y-yeah, just thought I heard something.”

“We should leave soon, there’s nothing here that can help us.” Keith had never been the one to call a retreat, though Lance assumed it was for his sake. Him being back in the facility put them all on edge.

Keith was right though, the only place that could have held prisoners was completely trashed. There was no one here.

They were too late.

He debated turning back when he heard it again. A high pitch sound that could obviously just be a machine, though no machines were down this way.

“Give me a sec.” he called, before muting his comms and continuing down the hall.

He was surprised to see the metal walls turn to clear glass, shattered but mostly intact. A glass door separated the rooms from the hall, one on each side of him, though both were wide open.

The sound came again, this time a bit clearer. He turned to the right room and stepped inside.

He was greeted by rows upon rows of open topped containers. Many of them tipped over but all of them empty. They almost resembled those plastic tubs his mother used to buy for organization, though the walls of them were much higher.

The ones that were still upright sat on little rolling carts, placards adorning the carts with various numbers.

7839

9846

4562

9843

There were multiples of numbers. Some having been printed on six or seven placards.

The sound came again from the far side of the room. Lance quickly transformed his bayard from its sniper configuration to a simple handgun, and made his way towards the muffled sound. For some reason it almost sounded familiar, as if he had heard it before. Though he couldn’t place his finger on it.

Up until then, the containers had been empty. Clearly though, he was wrong. They were empty, all except for one. As he got closer he understood what the sound was. And he cursed himself for not recognizing it sooner. There was no mistaking what was making it.

He walked to the singular container, the placard reading clearly.

7234

His breath caught in his throat as he approached the cart. What he had previously seen as just a lump was instead a blanket, thick and dark grey in the glowing purple of the emergency lights.

With a shaky hand, Lance reached out to the blanket and with one swift motion pulled it away revealing the one thing he never thought he’d find on this ship.

Large blue eyes stared up at him, as the owner of the cry ceased their noise almost instantly and suddenly everything became clear.

This was how they were going to make their soldiers.

With those bright, blue eyes.