#bitchy old horse rights

[icarusredwings]

Save a horse...

(SFW, Read the tags. 1/2

Promts: One's on purpose. The other is oblivious. Can you guess which is which?

"..I didn't know that was a gay bar.")

Pov, you're currently a drunk and slightly nervous Wade Wilson - Not Deadpool. Wade Wilson. You know, that guy who's so insecure about his entire body that he covered 100% of it and often times has multiple costumes/masks on because it's a metaphor for how he actually feels on the inside? Yeah. Him.

You are also currently sitting in a midwestern country bar with a shitty luke warm beer waiting for your 'Room mate' to say he's ready to come home. Watching how lit up he gets when around ranch hands and hard whiskey makes you tip your hat in fear you might actually look like there's pepperoni on your face from how red it's getting.

Slouching into your chair further, you start grumbling how the joke wasn't even that funny and that you could make a joke 10 times funnier, but you promised previously to behave yourself. Plus, you weren't doing so hot anyway. This was your 8th one as it was, and already you were watching his every move. How his canines sat when he smirked, how his arm hung over the back of his chair, how his boots crossed under the table, how he used the bottle in his hand as almost a speaking point, making geastures with it as he litsened, responding to their stories with his own. Right now the topic was about fixing fences and Horses escaping, riding horses, etc.

Honestly, he's heard worse. Ten year old girls talk more seriously about horses than these 4 rugged grown beareded men.. it seemed so boring..

Oh god. At this point, you're wondering why you even came. You clearly didn't fit in here, and these jeans did NOT do you any favors in the front. Was this why he was always so bitchy? Because his balls were getting strangled together by denim all the time?

It's not until you hear something in which you perk up. "Wade. Wade! Come're! Tell'em bout tha' there one time, will ya?"

Blinking, you wondered. Did you hear that, right? That beautiful draw and slur in his words calling for YOU of all people?

"Come on boy! We wont bite!" One of the men laughed. You could of sworn you just heard Logan chuckle and say "You better not.." in a tone that was... not firmiliar.

Slowly, You get up and stagger over only to be grabbed by the massive belt buckle and pulled close. His arm wrapping around your waist as he looked up at you with such shiney yet hammered eyes. "Tell'em!"

"Tell them what?"

"Bout the thing."

"Which thing?"

"Ya know the- Oh wait ya weren't there for that. Well shit, sorry...Oh! Wade, thi's Buck, Cletus and Mark. Have a seat."

For a moment, you blink as if he's gone mad. There were no seats left. Only 4 at one table. And as much as you'd love to just sit on his lap, there's no way he'd allow that. Not in front of these guys. Manly men didn't let other men sit on their laps in public. He's learned that the hard way.

"How much have you had, Wolfie?"

"Ah! Nevermin' that! Sit!" As if God himself awnsered your prayers he dragged you down into his lap, keeping you sat sideways and with an arm around you for no reason at all other then to claim dominance? Territory even? Just.. cause?

Either way, you find yourself a bit too shocked to speak, but let's be honest, that never lasts long. Trying to hide your face, You mutter;

"So...new friends of yours?" You ask the beast of a man who's locked his arm onto your hip.

"Cowfolk are usually quite... fond.. of one another." Buck says as if trying to tell you something, but you were far too knackered to get it the first go.

"We got a way of finding each other." Mark speaks up.

"Oh, do you now?" You ask, sounding intrigued.

It was now that you understood FULLY why he brought you to this bar specifically. Or was he even aware? No he couldn't be that dull- well...

Suddenly, you relaxed completely into his arms, wrapping an arm loosely around his neck, fitting into him like a puzzle piece. Like a wave of relief that you could infact show affection in here. It made you wonder if that was why Logan was so handsy or if he was just three sheets to the wind.

"Mmh. It's how we found ol' Logan here." Cletus made the mistake of saying and smiling at the muscly hairy man in a way Wade knew far too well.

Giving a quick, threatening glance, you take off your hat and put it on top of his head while staring them dead in the face. Howlett wasn't the only one who was territorial..

[delta-lethonomia]

ok depresso week is over, back to deliberate hyperfixation on bg3:

It is absolutely wild to me that people take Astarion to the foursome with the drow twins (romanced, spawn, post-cazador) and are shocked, shocked I tell you, that he has a bad time. But it leads me to think that there's an interesting conversation to be had here about morality applied to video games. I'm going to be using what's a bit of a strawman tbh, what I would consider an archetypical, "good person" gamer for this niche example.

(3k essay under the cut about irl morals vs video game behavior, my take on why Astarion agrees to the orgy, beating the dead horse of Astarion discourse now that the fandom has cooled off enough I might not get flogged for it, and all my election stress being translated into an increasingly bitchy narrative voice that I hope is at least mildly amusing.)

"Good Person Gamer" romances Astarion. They're probably female, which I am mentioning exclusively so I can turn that into "Good Girl Gamer" 😏, or G3. G3 picks nice dialogue options. G3 tries to support their companions, and finds diplomatic and moral solutions to problems. G3 saved the tieflings. G3 still romances Astarion because he's hot, and vulnerable, and it's not like he forces you to be evil - he just complains a bit when you save kittens stuck in trees, but you get that approval back anyway just by being nice to him. Talk him out of Ascension and you've proven to yourself he's got a good soul under all that attitude anyway. He'd healed! You banged on his grave! It's all good now!

The brothel is fun. The drow twins are hot. It's always fun when games lets you do spicy things like have threesomes and orgies! We're sex-positive! Look, the drow twins said they love their job! It's totally fine! G3, as most people, probably does not do these things in real life, but that's the fun in video games: you get to be someone you're not.

And then Astarion noticeably dissociates. He throws himself in the center and lavishes everyone with attention; he's a professional, you know. Even an unromanced Tav/Durge notices something's off, and Astarion replies something along the lines of "you don't have the right to look at me like that," presumably with worry, distress, or sympathy.

G3 is upset. They did everything right - they didn't want to hurt him, and Astarion himself said he wanted this. Why couldn't they stop midway through and remind him that he doesn't have to hurt himself? Why couldn't they talk about it afterwards, and clear the air? LARIAN WHY DO YOU HURT ME

Now, to all the G3's out there: if you were dating a person with extensive sexual trauma, having been raped literally thousands of times, would you suggest having a threesome/orgy? With prostitutes, if that's better or worse? Putting them on the spot before your mutual friends? Would you wait a few years to mention the idea, or would you do so only weeks/months into a relationship? Your first "I love you" might have only been yesterday.

And most people, I think, would say "No." Writing that scenario outside of the lens of a video game makes it sound insane - of course you wouldn't! I'm not saying that they should never have group sex or that it can't be done, but I think most people instinctively get how that would be a shitty thing to do in that context, especially without discussing it in depth beforehand and making sure you're both on the same page.

And this is the meat of the issue. Most gamers play good-aligned characters: there's a strong culture of wanting to play the hero and saving the day. But tied into that cultural monomyth, in society itself, is the idea that sex is a reward at the end. You get sex at the end of the romance arc. The date where you have sex is one of many milestones, and you're not really dating if you haven't done it yet. Some people don't have sex until their wedding night. Threesome scenes especially are a video game classic: old-school God of War, for instance, had a hidden room in every game with scantily-clad women just waiting for you to button-mash away, a little treat for the player's keen puzzle-solving abilities.

Not all romances in BG3 have sex or end with sex, (some even start with sex), but that is because BG3's character writing tries to ground itself in reality despite being a medium people utilize for fantasy. Role-playing a "good" character is mostly easy: you typically know which dialogue choice is the ethical choice, can chide Astarion for being racist, can save the numerous children with moral ease - and BG3 rewards this: a good playthrough is more fleshed out, because you haven't killed off half the cast. You get better gear. You have more allies, better allies. You know what to do.

Or, well, mostly. BG3 is kind of special imo because even the good choices have a lot of nuance, where two people can make different choices but still feel like they both picked the most ethical one. Take Shadowheart's parents, for example: they beg for her to let them go so they can die and save their daughter. Saving them leaves Shadowheart in Shar's clutches - she will experience pain for the rest of her life, but regains her parents, and with luck, Selûne will claim her soul when she dies. Kill them, and Shadowheart is free - truly free, to live her life on her own terms, free from Shar and Selûne both. Both can be the ethical choice, depending on your morals.

"But if Astarion didn't want to have the threesome, the game should have let me stop midway through/made it clearer that this would happen. He said no before Cazador - why couldn't he say no again? Why would Larian put me in this position and make me feel bad when I thought everything was alright? I wanted to be good and have fun, not feel like I pressured my boyfriend." - Strawman G3.

Because BG3 treats it's characters like people. Multiple companions make choices outside of what the player character decides for them - Shadowheart's decision to save or kill her parents, kill or save the Nightsong, or Gale, to go for the crown or not depend on what events they are there to witness personally, or can be informed by conversations you have in camp about unrelated issues. You can fully let them make their own decisions and be surprised each time as they develop into different people with each successive playthrough. A lot of people are surprised when Gale goes for the Crown of Karsus without their input. In my last multiplayer playthrough, we could not prevent Shadowheart from wanting to kill the Nightsong, and so we were forced to kill her.

Astarion is not like that. The way he talks about Ascension changes depending on your relationship. If you're merely friends, he acknowledges it's probably a bad idea, even, in direct contrast to the somewhat obsessive and frightening way he pursues it in a romantic relationship. But Astarion can't decide what to do at the end: he has no hidden point system, no hidden flags - he will always pursue Ascension even if he knows it's a bad idea, because Astarion does not trust himself, has no experience trusting himself, and needs help. As counter-intuitive as it may sound, he needs support to make his own decisions, because in that moment, he cannot be objective.

(If Astarion is ever objective is another story....)

So much of Astarion's reactions and opinions are instinctive and unthinking. "Don't let the pixie out of the lantern, are you an idiot?" -> "A pixie! And honest-to-goodness pixie! *giggles*"

"We don't need a urchin hanging around." -> Astarion approves if you help Yenna

etc. etc. etc. There's so many times he says one thing, the cruel thing, the "fuck everyone else, I've got mine"-thing, and then approves when you do the good thing. Astarion does not live in line with his values (besides pursuing a growing need for freedom) and he frankly does not really know what his values even are.

Astarion doesn't react with glee to finding all the people he seduced - who inadvertently raped him, though they didn't know, some lowlifes and scoundrels and people having a bad day and even some sweet, naive virgins like Sebastian, who took that smoking hot Elf on his word and followed him home, probably in disbelief someone so gorgeous would pay them any attention at all - tortured and locked in a dungeon underground. He's crushed by guilt. He's in pain. Astarion delights in you causing others pain (the torture scene) because it aligns with his worldview, the joy of seeing someone else suffer for once. But he's not a cold-hearted murderer. (And yes, I am differentiating between "adventurer kills a bandit" murder and "deliberately killing someone you know for reasons/no reason" murder.) He doesn't hurt anyone in camp - Shadowheart and Lae'zel are far more dangerous than him. You never have to stop him from drinking anyone else to death. Even if you never feed him again, never use his bite attack, he never bites anyone in camp. Despite being a vampire, Astarion is, effectively, harmless. (Bite night was about checking whether or not Cazador's old command's still worked. It's his first real attempt at freedom, proving to himself that he's free from compulsion. Hence why the roll to get him to stop is a 5, giving you a 75% likelihood of succeeding. He doesn't actually want to kill you. And you get two chances!!!)

Astarion doesn't enjoy death for the sake of death. He's terrified if you side with the goblins and kill the tieflings despite goading you into doing it. I don't doubt that he could hurt others (god knows he's got enough feelings to work out that way), but there's a significant difference between a little knife play and condemning thousands of people to be tortured in the Hells for all eternity. Sacrificing his siblings is different, because they, like him, are guilty, and deserve their deaths. He agrees to sacrifice his fellow spawn as an act of self hatred, of self harm. But all those other people stupid enough to want to sleep with him? Given a day to think about it, I think Astarion would agree that that's not right - and that's why he thanks you for preventing his Ascension. That much murder isn't him. He can be thoughtless, cruel, and unkind, but Astarion isn't a psychopath.

Take him to the brothel, and slipping back into that role, the seductive rake, it as easy as breathing. I don't think Astarion has ever thought about if he's the type of person to enjoy group sex, or even if he wants it. I don't doubt that Astarion enjoys sex, that he wants to have sex (he is, after all that, still shockingly horny), but he's just discovered the idea of having sex with someone he loves. He's riding that high. Of course he says yes: not only is he a different man now (he's free!), it's something he's done a thousand times already - maybe it'll be different this time, maybe something has changed - or maybe, an orgy was on offer, so of course Astarion is there. It's his purpose. He's been doing it for 200 years. Where else would he be?

What I'm saying is that Astarion didn't think about what sleeping with the drow twins meant for your relationship, or how he would feel about it at all. He just went for it. He had a bad time. You then don't discuss it because that would mean admitting that he finally made a choice by himself and it backfired. He didn't think, or maybe he did, and it turns out he just doesn't know himself. Why discuss it? A relationship with G3 apparently means group sex. They probably asked twice. They backtracked all the way to Wyrm's Crossing post-Cazador. Will they ask again? How many times can he say no?

In reality, in the real world, the act of asking can be the problem in and of itself. If your significant other/spouse/lover asks you to do something you don't want to do, be it a threesome, anal, opening the relationship etc, these actions have consequences. The act of asking doesn't happen in a vacuum like it does in video games: there is a cost associated with it, a gamble, and while it may pay off, it may not. Some people get worn down and agree to things they don't want to do. Sometimes you break up because the act of asking is so inherently disrespectful you can't reconcile your differing wants and needs. If you're dating someone who has experienced the gut-wrenching pain of being cheated on, you don't ask 2 months into a new relationship if you can fuck other people. This should not come as a surprise to you, to G3, to anyone. It's common sense.

BG3 giving you the opportunity for a foursome with Astarion not only to give the player their hot'n'spicy sex scene (then playfully bops you on the nose by making it a fade-to-black, you naughty little perverts, you), but also to continue its theme of treating the player like a mature adult, who is dealing with other mature adults, and who can and should live with the consequences of their own actions. Subsequent patches have watered this down, I admit, but I do believe that that was the ethos guiding their work from the beginning. BG3 wants you to interact with the characters like people. If you roll over and tell them what they want to hear, you will Ascend Astarion, and he'll enslave you in turn. If you agree with Gale on everything, he will kill himself and you - or, he'll become a god, becoming the exact sort of god he used to rail against. Agree with Karlach, and she will rather die than go back to the Hells. You get my point.

"But Larian could have let me check in on Astarion midway through. Maybe it was a mistake to ask, but they should have let me check on him and stop it all if he wanted. I was trying to trust him to make his own decisions." - Strawman G3

Ok. We add a dialogue option. "Astarion, love, are you alright? We can stop at any time if you want."

Astarion disapproves (-5)

He's not backing out. Thank you for asking, darling, but fuck off. (I don't think he'd actually say fuck off but the implicit message would be there. I can't see Astarion stopping midway through, nor appreciating you doubting him. Nothing changes.)

"But I still feel bad." - Strawman G3

And I completely understand that. It's a video game. Don't worry! Of course you should get your sex scene - it's a reward! You got their approval high enough! You have enough charisma points! In DA:O, you can also have an orgy, unlocked by giving your companions enough gifts! It's a game! You have enough points, you get the thing!!! You killed Cazador - you win! Have your cake and eat it too! Congrats, you unlocked your hot slutty vampire elf who's basically a trained courtesan, who needs you to be his moral compass, who will never leave you so long as you don't actively rape him - enjoy all the fun orgies in your future!

Your actual choice - the choice the game gives you - is to realize that taking what's essentially a human trafficking victim to a brothel is a dumb idea, but they didn't want to punish you for it.

"Well, Astarion should have said something then. He said no before, he can say no again." - Strawman G3

If you go through life pushing peoples boundaries and expect them to verbally tell you what you're doing wrong, you're gonna be friendless and have a bad time. This ties back to both Astarion having difficulty knowing and defending his own values, BG3 trying to let you make your own decisions without setting out a clear "good or bad" path on occasion, and the hope that you'd use your own morals to make decisions. G3 would never behave in this way irl, and that's where the shock comes from, the guilt from committing an action they thought was without consequence in a risk-free fantasy scenario, and then feeling unpleasantly surprised when called out.

But it's a video game, and you didn't get the little zap, the little sting of an Astarion disapproves in the corner that told you you made the wrong choice. In fact, because he doesn't disapprove, it's not actually the wrong choice!

It really was mean how the Narrator made G3 feel bad, wasn't it. They didn't mean to hurt him. Astarion doesn't mention it, so it's probably fine.

... have you talked to Halsin yet? Surely he had a good time. Right?

CONCLUSION

People think they're good and moral and will typically behave "heroically" in video games. Games support this and reward players for doing so. The "good path" is expected to be clear. However, video games are not real life no matter how much they play at immersion, and multiple games have trained players in a linear "do x, receive y" type fashion. Sex is a reward in games, and is treated that way in real life as well, so players expect the Sharess' orgy scene to be a reward, and are then shocked when Astarion/Gale/Halsin etc reveal during or afterwards that they had a bad time. This is because Larian wants you to treat BG3 like a role playing game and interact with it seriously, and isn't afraid to boop you for your actions in ways that mimic real life relationships. This ethical dissonance makes people uncomfortable especially when they play games to role-play as someone better than themselves, and are surprised when they aren't herded down predetermined "good" paths via instantaneous approval/disapproval mechanics or unlockable "ideal" dialogue.

It is absolutely possible that someday Astarion might be into meaningless group sex with prostitutes for fun and pleasure. However, that is the sort of thing you'd probably either wait for him to bring up by himself organically, or discuss in a long-term trusting relationship after he's had potentially years to process the idea of not immediately hopping into bed with someone, as well as disentangling his instinctive "beaten-in" sexually available behavior from his actual desires. People much more emotionally mature and undamaged than Astarion have destroyed their own relationships by inadvertently pushing a partner (or themselves) into various forms of group sex or other sexual acts. It's not something you do on a random Tuesday on a whim.

Or maybe it is, and I'm just chronically boring and surrounded by boring people lmao

TO THE POSTER THAT INSPIRED THIS: I'm so so sorry if you ever see this, not trying to call you out at all hence no linking, I just wanted to pick apart why I think you felt that way. The thoughts just finally bubbled over after a year+ lol

[theplottdump]

Buckle Bunny: 𝘜𝘩 𝘰𝘩, watch out girls, unbroken bronc coming through.

Bitchy Blonde: Seems pretty dangerous letting something that wild run around in here alone. Tired Blonde: Oh leave him alone Viv.

Diego: Howdy Dani. Dani: Diego! Haven't seen you round here in a while. I thought all that ranch work had might have killed you. Diego: [ 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝 ] Good to see you too. 'Fraid it'll take a lot more than a few horses to break me. - The Horseshoe's lookin' great by the way.

Dani: Thanks, you'd be impressed what a couple coats of good deck sealant can do. Diego: Well you just let me know if you want me to come down and lend a hand with anything. Dani: Classic Golden Boy. Don't you have enough on your plate keeping the old Carey Ranch running? Diego: I always got time for good people.

Dani: Well then you know the rules- one good turn deserves a beer. On the house.

Diego: Gonna need two- got a date tonight.

Dani: Well good for you cowboy. I'll make sure to dig you out something classy.

A pair boots hit the ground as Chestnut Ridge's reining buckle bunny slid into the open seat beside the ranch hand.

Viv: Why hey there Cowboy, lookin' for a ride? Diego: I ain't got time for this tonight Viv.

Viv: Oh c'mon García, I've just missed seein' you around is all. Diego: And I'm sure that husband of yours is missin' you just as much right now too. He still stationed out by the crater? Viv: Strangerville- I'll be leavin' town to join up with him in a week or so.

Diego: Well that sounds like a mighty fun adventure for you both. Maybe you'll finally find that wedding ring of yours before headin' out. Viv: Oh you're no fun. Diego: I'm afraid I just got my priorities straight. The first of which is not rollin' around with married women.

Viv: What's so wrong with wantin' to break ya? Watcher forbid we women do anything. Girl's gotta find a way to occupy the hours somehow.

Diego: Maybe try pickin' up fishin'.

Viv: Sweet Diego. I'm sure your bottle blonde rich girl in her little clearance rack dress won't even last two minutes bareback.

Diego: I'm gonna ask ya to think 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 about what you're planning on sayin' next Mrs. Walker.

Dani: 𝙇𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙑𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙖𝙣. I don't want any trouble from you tonight.

Two ice cold beer bottles hit the counter- saving the woman from whatever Poppy/Diego tag team beat-down was surely on the way if she had kept running her mouth.

Viv: We were just havin a bit of fun, don't be jealous. But if you want to jump the line I wouldn't mind takin' you round the block either. Dani: Girl you better get your ass off my bar and start minding your own business or I'll- Viv: I'm goin, don't get your briefs in a twist.

Diego: Much obliged. Viv: Have fun on your little date Diego. Dani: 𝟭𝟬, 𝟵, 𝟴, - Viv: I'm goin- I'm goin.

[apomaro-mellow]

What about making this Steddie? https://www.tumblr.com/morganbritton132/734155837432594432

Pretty pls?

Oh this is so cute how could I resist?

Steve's mornings started with a stop at the cafe down the street from his home. Not only was it close, but his friend/gym buddy Chrissy worked there. So they got to shoot the shit while she made his drink. But today was different. Because this time when he walked in, he didn't see her bright, bouncy ponytail. Instead he saw a dark, more limp one behind the counter, mopping away.

"Be right with you", the man who was not Chrissy said.

Steve had been out in the world. He had lived in it. He'd seen his fair share of hot cashiers. But this guy seemed tailor-made to make him tongue tied.

"What's your poison?"

Thank god for routine because it was the only reason Steve remembered his usual order and gave it to the man with tattoos on his arms. Was it hot in here? It felt hot.

"Order up for Steve!"

Steve took it with a thank you and took a sip as he turned away to leave. Only to freeze when he actually tasted it. He turned back to the barista, thinking it must be some kind of joke.

"Enjoy your drink!", he exclaimed, then went back to cleaning the counter.

Steve nodded and was going to go but not before Chrissy caught him while bussing a table.

"So, how's the drink?", she whispered like they were in cahoots.

"How could you let someone make a drink like this? I feel like I just got my teeth kicked in", Steve whispered back.

"And are you gonna tell Eddie that?", she grinned.

"...His name's Eddie?"

"Mhm, so that's a no. Well, Eddie's new and he's an old friend of mine. He's still technically in training. But you told him he made a good drink. Which means he's not going to listen to me when I say he's not ready."

Steve glanced back at him, there was definitely more of a pep in his step and as bad as this coffee was, he couldn't say it to his face. Chrissy shook her head.

"I can't believe Eddie of all people disarmed the weapon of mass bitchiness. Well now he's gonna be the one making your drinks until you tell him."

"Chrissy, please..."

"Enjoy your cup full of looooove~", Chrissy teased.

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

And Chrissy made good on that promise/threat. Every time Steve came in now, it didn't matter who was working, Eddie was always front and center to make his drink. And every single time it was horrible. The peppermint mocha tasted like toothpaste. The caramel macchiato was sickeningly sweet. One time his coffee was even salty!

Each time Steve took a polite sip and told Eddie how delicious it was. He deserved and Oscar. Eddie would talk to him while he made his drink, somehow even when it was busy and he was taking orders from other people (orders that would be made by other, more experienced employees).

Steve learned that Eddie and Chrissy knew each other in high school, that he played in a band, and he didn't drink coffee.

"Odd place to work, don't you think?", Steve asked.

"Yeah, but you blow up ONE engine and suddenly three years of good work mean nothing."

Steve took a step back away from the counter while Eddie wasn't looking. They had a good thing going. So good that about two weeks in, Eddie asked him out. He bragged to Chrissy about it and while she was happy for them both, something in her smile seemed suspicious.

They went out, dinner and a movie, a classic. Then they went back to Steve's place and Eddie rode him like a horse.

When morning came, Steve was awakened by the soft morning rays of the sun and the soft kisses Eddie was giving him. Steve let out a soft moan when he smelled something off.

"Are you making something?", he asked, eyes fluttering open.

"Just some coffee, sweet thing. I know how you like it." Eddie got up from the bed to finish and Steve's eyes bulged open as he realized what was happening.

"EDDIE NO!"

[hapalopus]

I am rapidly gaining too many hrihriwa ocs to draw, here are their coat colors

Moussa - Milu - Raban

Vigga - Tarok - Flori

Lio - Bekaar - Kaya

Character descriptions below

Moussa: My main man. Equivalent of early/mid-20s (hrihriwa age slightly slower than humans). Youngest foal of the Lord of the A'atwe Clan, but unfortunately they're also the oldest colt in the family, which means he's Lord Apparent. Just wants to hang out with their secret human girlfriend, doesn't wanna be in charge of squat. Jack of all trades, master of absolutely nothing. "The weird kid" in the herd, who'd rather climb trees with humans than race through the fields. Large social circle but only a few genuine friends. Most creative shapeshifter in the entire clan.

Milu: Moussa's older sister. Massive eldest daughter syndrome. Actually wants to be Lord, but the A'atwe clan has institutional sexism. Bossy and bitchy to make up for her feelings of powerlessness. Takes on much bigger burdens than she should. Desperate for her parents' attention. Has close friends, not a lot of friends. Stressed 24/7. Born to snort adderall, forced to live in a fantasy world.

Raban: Moussa's/Milu's sire. Current Lord of the A'atwe. Equivalent of mid-50s. Traumatized and prone to lashing out when his buttons are pressed. Watched his family die in a raid, you know the deal. Big on battle training, and frustrated that none of the foals get it, because the last raid was 50 years ago. Actually a good leader. Unfortunately not a good father.

Vigga: Moussa's/Milu's dam. Logistic genius. Without her the clan would collapse, and everyone knows it. Slightly better parent than her mate, not that that's saying a lot. Babies Moussa, emotionally neglects Milu. Equally as traumatized as Raban, but they're genuinely a good couple who care for each other, they just shouldn't've had kids. Knows everyone and everything, including the clan's humans and livestock. The clan drama is her telenovela. Lives in denial of the clan's sexism even though she knows it's choking her and her filly and all the other mares and fillies, she knows, she just feels powerless to stop it, she knows but it's easier to play along.

Tarok: Moussa's best friend. Nice to be around, but hangs out with Moussa partially for clout. Comes from an unstable home like nearly every other foal in the clan (everyone was affected by that raid 50 years ago). Wants power, but doesn't realize. Has yet to understand why he does what he does. Doesn't really get why Moussa is friends with so many humans ("they're just workers given to us by the gods right?") but accepts it. Will eventually sell Moussa for 1 corn chip.

Flori: One of Moussa's friends. Haven't decided on a personality for her yet.

Lio: High-ranking noble stallion. Ornery. Loyal o Raban but doesn't like or respect Moussa.

Bekaar: One of the adults who were passed over during the raid - in his case because of horrible conformation (swayback, cow hocks, weak pasterns, steep shoulder, etc.). Mentor figure for basically everyone in the clan, but especially the nobles. Knows that Moussa isn't leader material but has a hell of a time convincing Raban. Beginning to go from "so old everyone assumes he's wise" to "so old everyone assumes he's a toddler."

Kaya: A loner from another clan. Only one who escaped their raid. Survived in isolation for a few months before giving herself up to the raiders. Works as a riding horse, for the raiders' leader. Tells herself she's doing it all to track down and free her clan members, but she has done some terrible things in her clan members' name. Probably too terrible for her clan to forgive her, should she ever find them.

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 165- The Ghost of Christmas Past

Summary: While out cold on the Dorwinion castle floor, Josie dreams or "hallucinates" of last Christmas Eve when she was being held captive by her ex-boyfriend Peter in his remote cabin, deep in the woodlands just North of the Grey Mountains. A strange object is believed to hold magic. Clues blatantly dance like sugar plums through Josie's head but will she remember the trauma blocked memories when she awakens from her nightmare? Legolas and Lola throw words over Josie. Josie asks something critical of the Prince. Lola searches for someone unexpected.

*Warnings* NSFW-DARK.... with mentions of drugs, emotional abuse, angst, violence, strong language, sexual language and abuse, alcohol use

Chapter characters: Josie, Peter, Thranduil, Legolas, Lola

Chapter word count: 5,593

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through house, not a creature was stirring....except you as you paced about the living room of the secluded cabin, nestled in the middle of a desolate never ending forest. The cabin that your abusive, narcissistic and sadistic ex-boyfriend Peter was keeping you prisoner in and torturing you daily while doing so. You had been inside the wooden box for so long that you stopped counting the days and no one had come for you. How could anyone find you when you didn't even know where you were? One moment, you had been in a northern New Zealand bar and the next, you awoke in the back seat of Peter's car, bound, gagged and disoriented from being drugged.

You momentarily paused your tears and erratic steps to gaze out the window at the winter wonderland. The same window you've stared out of a gazillion times, imagining a beautiful blonde King on a great white horse riding down to free you from the evil clutches of the dragon you called Peter and slaying him with his mighty sword, then whisking you away to his castle in the heavens to live happily ever after...but he never came. It was just a dumb song anyways, that you listened to as a kid when you believed in magic.

Your tears softly free fell like the sparkling snow before you as you fogged up the glass with your hot breath, then drew a heart and whispered into it, the words you had pointlessly recited every single night.

"My King, take me away from this awful place."

The slamming of the backdoor put a startling stop to your silly pleas and in stomped Peter, ridding the wet snow from his coat and muddied boots all over the floor that he would soon make you clean up.

"Baby it's cold outside!" the tall, dark and handsome monster bellowed with a grin that you wanted to smack right off of his prickly bearded face, the beard that tore your neck up every time he ravaged you.

"I never would have guessed." you quietly riposted and went to get a mop before he ordered you to do it.

"Bitchy again. That time of the month eh? Well, I've got a box full of old treasures here that I snagged at a thrift shop. I thought since it's Christmas Eve, I'd get you something since you like that kind of crap, so a little thanks would be nice because you certainly don't deserve any of it with that mouth of yours. Women should be seen and not heard, except for the moaning of being fucked good and hard."

With your back turned to him, you rolled your tear ridden eyes. Good and hard. The only correct part about that was hard. The narcissistic creep didn't know how to be gentle in any way.

"What was that Josephine?? I can't hear you!" he snarled as he dropped the box on the coffee table in front of you, making you jump.

"Th..thanks." you swiftly mumbled as you flinched in fear of getting smacked.

"Thata girl. You wouldn't want to spend the holiday with a fat lip now. So where's dinner? I'm starving after that long ass trip."

"There's stew in the pot over the fireplace. It's all we had."

"I brought more food. It's on the back of the snowmobile. Go get it. Oh..and Josephine??" he smugly toyed while holding up the keys and jingling them. "Just in case you got any stupid ideas of taking off."

"Peter...I've been here for..I don't even know how long and I know you keep all the keys on you. You remind me every single day."

"Well, I have to because I know that every single day, the wheels are turning in your simple little mind, trying to find a way to leave me and that...will never happen. I told you that back home when you foolishly tried to leave before. I always find you. There is nothing out there for miles. That is why we are here. No one is coming and you know I'm right, don't you Josephine??"

"Y...yes Peter. You're always right."

"I don't like your tone. How many times do I have to explain it so you get it through your fucking fairy tale little head? There's nothing to the North for over a hundred kilometers and the East, West and South are nothing but mountains, rivers and woodlands. I've told you, if you want to go, go...but you know you'll never survive. All alone, in the dark, in the freezing cold, no food, no shelter, just turned 24 years old and you have absolutely no survival instincts or skills since you grew up sheltered from the world, moving from place to place every few months...and lets not forget about...the wolves."

And now you were sheltered again. And The wolves. You heard them howling every single night. It was just another reminder, besides the recurrence of the real big bad wolf rubbing it in your face, that you were trapped.

"You have everything you need here. Food, heat, electricity thanks to a very expensive generator, and most importantly...me. What do you have back there?? Nothing and no one. Your mom is dead, your dad is dead. You have no friends or other family. You have no money. All that you own is a bag of shit I brought with us that you already had packed when you tried to leave me that day. Everything else you have, I gave you. I own it. I own you."

You did have everything...except what you truly needed and wanted. Love. But you did have money. Lots of it that your dad left you in his will. But what good did it do you now? You were probably presumed dead anyways, if anyone even noticed you were gone. Peter was right. You had no one anymore but him.

You didn't want to hear his cruel rantings anymore, so you put on your coat and boots and went out to get the food.

Brushing the snow from the seat of the snowmobile, you sat down and gazed up at the full moon of the winter solstice, wondering if there was another like you, gazing into it too, wishing for things you wished for, searching for shooting stars to make those wishes upon. The last time you saw one was on your recent birthday, but that was two weeks ago, so now all you had to rely on was the moon and each unique and perfectly crafted snowflake that fell into your hand as you held it out, sobbing.

Although your faith in fairy tales was diminishing, the things that were real, you could not deny, such as the wicked effects of the Mercury retrograde that began on the 13th, just before the solstice and would last another week into the new year of 2022. Your life was already shit before it began, but it only seemed to make things worse. You could feel it through Peter's actions, the way it made someone dark even darker and nothing would change when it passed. This would continue to be your hell.

Sobbing harder, you quietly cried out. "Please help me. Someone."

Everything was so deafening outside, for the blanket of snow on the ground always absorbed sound which created a calming silence. There was no wind or breeze of any kind either in that moment and then...a cool whisp of air puffed softly over you, carrying the fragrance of lilacs, a scent you would never forget for they were flowers your mother loved.

For a moment, you smiled, believing it was her...her spirit, watching over you until you heard a man's voice and it certainly wasn't Peter's. The voice seemed to also carry in the breeze and it was deep and alluring, yet soft and loving...and filled with desperate concern.

"Who are you? Where are you?"

You gasped and flung off the snowmobile so fast as if it were on fire.

"Hello?? Wh..who's there??"

Seconds went by as your eyes darted about the darkness inside the trees and then all was quiet once more.

"Josephine!! Get your ass in here! I want my bottle of whiskey!" Peter shouted as he banged on the back porch window, glaring at you.

With great hesitance, still staring out into the nothingness, you grabbed the bag of goods and scuffled back inside, glancing back on the way with every two steps you took.

As Peter devoured his stew like the slob he was and slurped on his liquid fire, you sat on the couch, sipping wine in a state of befuddlement. Had you really heard someone? Or was your mind going into some kind of survival mode to protect your sanity, making you believe there was hope? Was it the retrograde or was your mind just completely breaking? Surely that had to be it. You were just flat out losing your mind. For one thing, how could you smell lilacs in the dead of winter?

Peter finished off most of the stew and then plopped in a chair by the fireplace and began his nightly regimen of getting sauced, but not enough to where you could ever take the keys from him. He was quite smart as most psychopaths were. The only way you would ever get them was from his cold dead body and you knew you didn't have the stomach to kill someone, not even him. It didn't mean you didn't wish him dead though. Maybe choke on a chunk of the deer meat in the stew from the deer he killed, slip in the shower or fall down the basement stairs. You've imagined all kinds of scenarios with you standing over him, watching him take his last breaths. Did that make you a bad person after all he had done to you in the past 4 years?

"You gonna open your gift or what?" he snapped.

You wanted nothing from him and would much rather throw the box in the fireplace....or at his smug ass face.

"It's..it's not Christmas day yet."

"Just open the fucking box Josephine! Your lack of appreciation really pisses me off."

Picking the box up, you fretted about what you would find, for his gifts were never thoughtful and usually just junk. and that's exactly what it was as you pulled out the first item.

Cheap cosmetic jewelry that maybe a 5 year old would wear for dress up. Honestly, you didn't think anyone would wear it and that's probably why it was in a thrift shop. Next...another pair of gawdy high heels which he bought only for his own fetish. You despised high heels and he was why. Then there was a long white dress, which at the time you had no clue would be the one you wore when you finally escaped 4 months later and the high heels would aid you in that feat.

The next two items were decent at least. Another fantasy book and a classic cassette tape that you could play on an old 80's boombox you had in the bedroom. You didn't know the artist or genre, but to you, music was music when you had none, for you couldn't pick up any radio stations out in timbuk-fucking-tu. Anything was better to listen to besides silence or the cringing sound of Peter's voice.

Lastly...you pulled out an object at least two foot tall that was heavy and wrapped in burlap.

"Thought you'd really like that one since you're into all that fantasy bullshit. It's supposed to be magical or some shit. That's what the lady said anyways. I don't think she was all there, if you know what I mean. She reminded me of one of those chicks that look like they're into that creepy voodoo shit or what not...a gypsy or some fortune teller maybe? Said it grants wishes."

"Well, than why would you give it to me? You know what I will wish for."

"Because you know I don't believe in all that hocus pocus hogwash! You're not going anywhere Josephine. Deal with it and just open the damn thing already."

Upon unraveling the string and removing the burlap, your eyes widened as you were now holding a realistic porcelain sculpture of...a male elf?? Not any ordinary elf though like one of Santa's helpers with striped tights and hats and shoes with bells on them. This one was of majestic youthful beauty and superior elegance, an Elvenking of royalty maybe? A King in all the ways you had always envisioned and dreamt of one to be, whether human or immortal, for he wore a crown of twigs and berries over his long, sleek platinum strands that hung perfectly straight over his broad and sturdy shoulders clear down to his abdomen. A high standing collar wrapped around his thick, elongated neck that was accentuated by a black blizzard stone, set inside metal prongs that reminded you of spider legs and it was centered and pinned just under his captivating clavicle at the V shaped opening. Crystals were something you knew well because of your mother's massive collection. This one in particular, also known as merlinite, was a very rare and powerful crystal. It was said to hold a strong connection to the earth that gave it grounding energy and also helped to give healing strength.

Down his slender body, ran a form fitting robe of shimmering silver and placed underneath him was a blood red outer robe that you could tell was twice his lofty height as it draped over his forearms and flowed around his feet in a swirling pool of scarlet satin. You guessed the beautiful giant to have stood well over 6 foot tall and to be highly resilient, vigorous, stealthy and agile.

The way he was prestigiously positioned on the tree carved throne with enormous elk-like antlers sprawling out behind his head, spoke of a highest stature that cautioned of puissant power and dominance. His head was held high, angled to the side with fierce confidence and noticeable arrogance. One knee was crossed over the other, revealing his grey leggings where his robe parted below the waist and one arm was relaxed on the limb rest as his hand slouched freely off the end. His other hand gripped a very tall wooden staff of twisted oak that was crowned by a peach sized and shaped amber jewel on the top, snuggly nestled inside a lattice of silver vines. Baltic gold the gem was sometimes referred to. It was made from tree resin and preserved for millions of years and would turn to stone. Just how old was this Ellon supposed to be?

Your perplexed eyes then traveled right back to his glamorous face because their was some kind of undeniable magnetic pull to this mystical being of defined glass. His skin was of flawless ivory and delicate as the porcelain the figurine was made out of. Like his body, his nose was long and lean, sloping down in to a softly pointed tip while his pronounced ears raised up in to stronger points. His supple lips were heart shaped and pouted ever so perfectly over a very compelling jawline. Even his Adam's apple was intriguingly and audaciously apparent.

Whomever created the sculpted masterpiece from clay with their bare hands was highly skilled and deeply invested in it. The artistry was of such detailed precision, right down to his crystalline eyes of the moon that your boring olive orbs were helplessly lost inside of and desperately trying to read. There were multiple rings upon his pampered fingers with one in particular standing out upon his left forefinger, a sizeable moonstone that resembled the icy blue hues of his eyes, eyes that drew you right in against your will as you began to understand them, ageless eyes that held presiding pain and darkness as if they had seen an eternity of hatred, fire, war and death, yet love and light, loyalty, wisdom and knowledge dwelled within them in competition with the evil and sheltered over those lonely soulful eyes were the boldest of brows, black as his knee high boots.

You also were now highly invested in the art piece. What was something like that doing in a thrift shop? Did the piece have a name? You wanted, needed to know more, so you carefully turned it over to see if there was any information on the bottom.

Gúl -o Aran Thranduil. Ech- a ithil sarn iest no i clair de lune was carved on it and nothing more.

"Clair de lune. I know and love the song. It's French for Moonlight...but the rest of these words, what language is that?" you whispered aloud with furrowed brows as you ran your finger softly over the grooves of the letters.

"What does it say?" Peter curiously answered your question with a question and a hiccup.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking. It's not English and I don't know how to pronounce any of it."

Peter took a hefty swig from his bottle and then chortled. "It probably says made in China."

Asshat, you thought. It wasn't any language you had ever seen and from all the fantasy books you have read, you guessed it to be from long ago...medieval era?? No...it had to be even older and you desperately wanted to decode it.

"Well why don't you put that pointy eared princess on the shelf...right there, in the window and make your stupid wish. I'll even entertain you and make one too." he barked, then got up, ripped it from your hand and sat it down on the wooden sill so hard, you swore it would shatter...and it should have, but it didn't. The elf sat chip free under the rays of the moonlight shining in from the window, his eyes sparkling in it as they looked right at you.

"I...I..I don't want to." you stammered as you began to tremble, knowing the whiskey was kicking in and Peter would become meaner than when he was when sober.

Here he came, storming at you, grabbing a clenched fistful of your hair at the scalp and dragging you to the window, stumbling, screaming and sobbing.

"Now. I'm going to make my pointless wish at this sexy elf on the shelf and then so will you! I can't say I wasted my money on it because it was free, some horseshit that freak at the store told me, saying the price tag is in the wishes, SO why not?...here goes nothing!"

"No, wait!...I....I changed my mind. I..I want to go first....please."

You never believed in this stuff, even though your mother and Sarah did. You and Sarah argued about it all the time and eventually, you just humored her and played along with the tarot cards and seance's for fun, but right then...you were willing to believe and be daring and brave, knowing what the consequences of your actions, or words you should say, would be after you blurted them out, and not by the price tag of karma, but by Peter.

"Alright. Go." he sarcastically agreed and pushed your head forward as he released your hair.

Your pent up anger rolled into rage and out of your mouth, as you stared into the elf's moonlit eyes, spewed words you had been aching to say out loud....and you knew, this night, you could die for it.

"My King, I wish for you to take me away from this awful place! And for all the times Peter has tortured me with spiders, I wish he would be dragged off by the Queen of all spiders, bloodied and screaming, deep into her dark cave and ripped limb from limb, leaving him alive long enough with his disgusting head attached to his torso so he can watch a dozen more spiders come and feast on the pieces and then I wish the Queen would drag his dismembered remains to her lair and spin him up in her web so he can be tortured for days, screaming in the dark as she snacks on him till his death!!"

Peter's eyes gaped as he gulped and then the rage that you knew would come...came.

"Brava!!" he shouted in a fury, clapping his hands as the Italian in him came out. "Tell me how you really feel Josephine! Well guess what? I wish that I will come back from the dead and haunt and torture you for the rest of your life!... Although that may not be very long..." he snarled and head butted you.

Down you went, to your hands and knees, stunned and almost blind as he knelt down and growled right in your face.

"There's no King coming! The only thing that's coming for you is my cock fucking you to death."

Peter grabbed the statue and hit you in the head once more, knocking you to your back, barely conscious and then he hoisted you up over his shoulder and carried you off into the bedroom, where for over an hour, he roughed you up... before, during and after having his forced way with you....and it was after this night that Peter began drugging you because the sadist realized the sex was much easier when you were practically limp and couldn't fight or talk back.

Crawling in tears of pain from the bed to the floor to find your clothes, you passed out and later awoke on Christmas morning with the sun blazing over your face and throbbing head, instantly crying once again from the pain, mostly below your waist and from also realizing you were still alive.

You stumbled in agony to your feet and gazed out the window to see the sun had melted most of the snow and the car was gone. What time was it??

After wrapping a robe around you, you crept out to the kitchen and sighed in relief when you saw Peter's coat and boots were gone too and you knew it was so the coward wouldn't have to look at you after what he did.

Knowing that you had a good amount of time to yourself, you showered, dressed, ate a donut and then remembered the elf figurine.

Gasping, you quickly hobbled to the living room to find it and sure enough, it was gone. It was real, wasn't it?? You couldn't have dreamed all of that, considering the huge knot on the side of your head from where Peter struck you with it.

You frantically began searching every corner of the cabin, even the basement that you dreaded going down to, but you came up empty handed. The creep had taken it after you wished him dead, you just knew it.

Crying ONCE AGAIN, you went back to your room and threw yourself on the bed, instantly regretting it as intense pain shot through every inch of you. As you laid there, sniffling in your snot, your eyes found the floor board where you had hid something special to you because you knew Peter would take it just as he had taken the statue. Luckily, he had never went through your bag that he had brought there when he kidnapped you, the bag you had pre-packed when you were going to leave him.

Slowly making your wincing way to the floor, you pried it open and pulled out the wooden box buried within the wooden box you were buried in. As you opened it, you smiled and sobbed some more to see the three items that belonged to Sarah, your best friend and neighbor who had disappeared into thin air on Halloween night 8 years ago.

Inside were her deck of tarot cards, a photo of the both of you, happy and twinning it at 14 years old, for you were both the same age, and her special ring, a silver ribbon ring she always wore, claiming it warded off magic spells placed upon the one who wore it. The day after she had vanished, her mother Jocelyn did too and you never saw her or Sarah again.

One night, after your sick father had fallen asleep, you snuck into their house through an unlocked window and went up to Sarah's room. That's when you found what looked like a shattered figurine all over the floor and in the shards, laid her ring. You had placed it inside her box on the dresser that had the photo and cards in it and took it for special keeping for when she came back, because you always believed she would....but she never did, nor did her mom. What you didn't know was of the special compartment the box held on the bottom and what was inside of it...until now.

As you were attempting to place the box back inside the floor board, your dropped it and the bottom popped open and out fell a beautiful amethyst pendant.

"What the??" you whispered and held it up by the chain, gazing into the purple crystal that had swirls of white clouds inside of it.

"Why would she hide it??" you asked yourself, completely and utterly confused.

You had never seen it before and she had shared everything with you. It must have been something of great importance, you figured. Maybe something personal or sentimental that she didn't want to share with anyone, not even you.

You stuffed it back in it's hiding place and the box too, then you decided to go outside for some sunlight and fresh air while you had the chance, and you took with you the battery powered boombox and cassette tape Peter had brought back to see what kind of music was on it.

Sitting on the picnic table out back, you slid the tape in and pushed play. The music began and it appeared to be some kind of country, bluegrassy, Irishy mix. It was all you had so it would have to do.

About 5 songs in and two glasses of Peter's whiskey drank down to help wash away your pain, you were completely caught off guard when a song came on that you knew. The same song you recalled the night before as you stared hopelessly out the window, dreaming of a King on a great white horse, for that was the name of the song.

You had sang it a lot as a child. Your mother was always singing it and it had stayed with you all through the years until now, but for it to just randomly pop up after you thought of it the night before, and after the wish you made to the porcelain elf, it was just too odd and it was all just too much.

"Why???? Why is this happening to me????.....Is anybody out there??!!" you screamed, so loud it burned your throat and then broke down into hysterical, uncontrollable sobs and blubbered the words as you tried to sing along.

"When I was a young girl I used to dream of a lover, to be my shining knight of strength one day. He'd carry me to a castle in the heavens and battle all my dragons on the way. And he'd ride down on a great white horse. He'd bring me love I was longing for. He'd bring me joy and everlasting peace and on a great white horse, he'd ride away with me."

"Josephine..." you heard in the wind and jumped to your wobbly feet.

"Josie! Josie...wake up!" you then heard, a voice echoing in your head. Legolas' sweet elven voice.

Was he really there or were you hearing him in your head again? You couldn't open your eyes, only mumble his name and when you did, you then felt yourself floating as Legolas lifted you from the cold stone floor...just like the night Thranduil found you in a similar state on the cold forest floor and carried you.

"Legolas?? What happened to her??" Lola frantically asked as the Prince gently laid you upon your bed.

"I do not know. Quickly, bring the healing water. Her skin is like fire."

Lola did as he asked and when she returned, she momentarily froze in her tracks with a hard dose of reality. Legolas was holding one of your hands and caressing your cheek with his other and the way he was looking at you spoke volumes of his undying love. It was as if no one else existed but you and Legolas proved it only seconds later.

"Legolas? I have the water and a cloth."

The worried and suddenly deaf elf did not hear a word Lola said as he continued stroking your cheek with a stare lost upon you.

"Legolas?? The water???"

"Huh?" he gasped and glanced at her and then took his eyes back to you.

"Would you rather I pat her with it so you do not have to remove your hands and eyes?"

Legolas certainly heard that. "I will tend to the Queen. You tend to the child as it is your duty is it not?" he snapped as held his hands out.

His words were cold and biting and Lola's eyes began to sting as she handed him the pitcher and cloth. She could hold her tongue no longer when Legolas aggressively took it from her.

"And you are appointed Josie's keeper? By whom? I am quite capable of looking after her as well as my DUTY of caring for Leean. I do believe the Queen has hired me, not you. I am the one who has always done it, never leaving her side, as you so easily did when she needed you."

Legolas' lips pursed as he turned to the bitter face matching the bitter words.

"By my father's rule...which... that is what he would wish, for she is his Queen and that makes her my Queen! And whom are you to speak to me that way, or to speak anything at all of the situation? I am Leeanduil's brother and godfather. I do not require employment or authority to care for either of them. You are merely nothing more than a servant and should mind your place and tongue if you wish to continue your duties as such."

"You did not seem to view me as merely a servant when your lips neared mine this evening! And now you threaten to remove me of my duties? And whom are YOU to do so? Josie retained my services, not you."

In a spitting image of his father, Legolas rose to his feet with rage and flared nostrils.

"I am the King! That is who I am to do so! Dare you ever question me again girl and consequences shall be suffered! Your jealous tirade is unwarranted and inappropriate and.."

"Leggy?" you grumbled as your eyes began to flutter.

His head whipped right to you as he immediately sat back at your side, abandoning the conversation with Lola...and Lola herself and continued to dab the wet cloth over your forehead which only infuriated her more.

"You are not MY King!" she barked, not caring if you heard her. "Lord Narcisse is and this is his castle. By all means, continue to pine for what shall never be yours while she pines for the one she truly loves. Unless you are a vampire named Garrett, which you most certainly are not, then it is you that shall suffer. I will leave you now to do MY duties."

Lola stormed out of the room in tears and the slamming of the door fully awoke both you and Leean.

"Yes, it is I my lady. I am here. I have not left you and I will never again."

"Leg...gy...my..my dream...I..I remember someth...." you paused with a flinched face as you noticed he was holding your injured hand a bit too tightly. "Owww!!"

"My lady?? What ails you?? Your hand?"

"Y..yes...it.."

Legolas' gasp cut you off. "It is bleeding clean through your glove!"

He carefully removed the lace covering and unraveled the makeshift bandage you had applied.

"Josie. This needs sewn up. Do not move while I locate a healer."

"NO!! Don't leave me! You said you wouldn't! I..I want you to do it. There is a thread and needle in the vanity drawer. The healing water will sterilize it."

"You...want me...a non healer...to stick a threaded needle through the tender skin of your palm??"

"Yes. I don't trust anyone here anymore. Give yourself more credit Legolas Greenleaf. Believe in yourself as I do."

He smiled at your kind words, but then frowned. "But..we have no pain reliever."

"Yes we do...hand me that carafe of wine. I will drink it down while you thread the needle."

The Prince's eyes gaped and then reluctantly did as you asked and while this was happening, Lola stood outside Narcisse's chamber door in full blown tears and sobs, vigorously knocking and receiving no answer.

"Daddy! Where are you??"

@redeemer46

[six-improbable-things]

I know I haven’t used this as a reading blog in FOREVER, but I feel the need to talk about the book I just read because holy shit did it destroy me in all the best ways.

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

4.75 ⭐️

So first off I wanna say that idk if this was intentional on the author’s part, but oh my god were the autism vibes off the charts for Artemisia. Like, that’s my autistic icon. Idc if it’s canon canon, it’s canon to me.

Secondly, HOLY FUCKING SHIT did the way this book deals with abuse and toxic cycles and trauma and learning to love yourself destroy me. Artemisia bonded with a revenant and it had to teach her how to take care of herself, and then later she realized it was just as traumatized and fucked up as she was, and they helped each other heal and it destroyed me.

I’ve seen those tumblr posts where it’s like “imagine you get possessed by a demon and the demon is so appalled at how you live that it gets you to start taking care of yourself” and this was kind of that concept but so much better and done so well. And it covers so many amazing themes and topics:

The realization that everything you’ve ever been taught isn’t just largely a lie, but also just fundamentally wrong. And realizing that there’s been a cycle of abuse and bad decisions but also knowing that if no one had made that decision then things would be even worse. And betrayals and friendships and lonely old spirits and no one is 100% right, and no one (not even the villains) are 100% bad or wrong. And realizing that you’re just a puppet in the hands of a god, and that gods aren’t always good. And finally stepping out of your denial of your trauma and accepting that you need to heal. And growing up and maturing and making amends and realizing that people can change. And understanding that everyone, no matter how old or how powerful, still gets lonely and needs someone to talk to.

Also featuring:

Badass, kind and wise old ladies, who are badass because they are kind

Bitchy spirit possessing someone

Mutually beneficial possession.

A delightful number of hurt-comfort adjacent scenes

Cool nuns.

Undead angels????

A very lovely horse who deserves all the treats

Many, many ravens

No romance

Favorite Lines (will come back and add later)

The one about the goat and biting back as related to trauma

The one about swords and sewing needles as related to hands and power

The one about not wanting to do things being a sign

“That’s my human.”

(This book is not explicitly queer, nor is the main character explicitly labeled as autistic, but it does feel queer and autistic to me. But that’s just my personal relation to the book. May not carry over for everyone.)

[alistair-blackwood]

WIP line chain game!

tagged by @bluejayblueskies, thank you!

rules: write the latest line from your WIP and tag as many people as there are words.

“You’ve truly discovered the most wretched horse on the planet,” Jon said and Martin snorted.

15 words and ooh boy that’s a lot, I’ll tag @definitelynotshouting @iceeckos12 @canonicallyshort and @stopitjon, do with it what you will~

[lazybakerart]

for @ihni! (pics added by me)

-

The flat face monstrosity licks Steve’s nose and he giggles. All cute and shit. Rubs at the cat’s ears and keeps smiling at it - lovingly. 

Billy wants to ram the fireplace poker through his own eye before he makes a noise like ‘aww’. Out loud. In front of Steve. It’s close. Billy bites his tongue in half to keep it together.

He’s not sure how picking up an old hag’s cane off the grimy Fair Mart floor turned into petsitting eight cats for a week. He doubts he’ll ever figure it out.

Women are fucking weird.

But Billy has a week out of Neil’s house and he’d be a moron to stick his nose up at fifty bucks.

“Oh my god, I love this guy. He’s so - ugly. But, like, in a good way?” Steve turns to him, like Billy’s got any opinion on felines and their attractiveness.

Steve’s got that goofy smile in action. Makes Billy get bubbly. Has him thinking it’d be a fine idea to push the cat over and get in on some of that nose licking.

Billy can feel his face heating up, can feel the rest of him following. Silently, he prays for Saint Peter to hurry up with the verdict before he embarrasses himself even more.

Steve’s found him out. Insisted on coming inside to pet every cat. Growing up without pets and siblings apparently makes a guy needy to poke at something. A little old lady’s animals. Billy.

A cat - the one with the stripes and pink collar shoves its way through Billy’s elbows braced on his knees to settle on his lap. Entitles little shit.

“Entitled little shit.” Billy says, not about to shy away from someone with a haughty attitude aimed at him even if it does walk on four legs and shit in a box Billy has to clean daily.

Billy pets it behind its ears. It purrs. Billy keeps at it just for something to do since it’s here.

Billy doesn’t like it or anything.

Steve appears inches from his face. Crosses the middle seat cushion to sit right next to him, nearly on top of him if it weren't for little bitchy whiskers.

"Oh, what’s this one’s name?”

“Mr. Ed.” Billy says, hates that he has every cat’s name memorized without trying. Had been introduced one by one. This is what he gets for being forced to get As in school or else.

“Named after - the horse?”

“Her dead husband.”

Steve nods, grin slipping downwards at the corners, turning into a full blown weepy eyed accompanied frown. Taking in the useless information and keeping it because he’s just like that. Cares about some old broad being a widow just because.

“Did she get all these cats after -”

“Think so.” Billy shrugs, wanting to avoid thinking about the shit show life ends up being.

“That’s so - sad. Losing the love of your life and then.” Steve looks around the room. Floral couch. Doilies on every flat surface. Finds the vase that could be an urn and could be a vase and quickly crumples. 

Steve reaches over and pets the cat trapping Billy to the spot. Unable to run. Unable to find a corner to hide in until Steve gathers his big dumb heart back up.

Their hands touch on the back of Mr. Ed’s head and Billy is faced with the real possibility that it’s possible to forget how to move.

“I guess they’re nice enough company. Real cuddly.” Steve says soft, looking at Billy from under thick eyelashes and dark eyes as he rubs Billy’s knuckles. 

Billy blames the ancient broad for the clench in his chest.

Clears his throat. Feels his head about to overheat. “Planning to snatch up some strays?”

“I don’t know.” Steve says, every bit of trouble Billy knew he would be. “Are you going somewhere?”

[horsesarecreatures]

So I had the chiropractor come out for both horses today and I’m kicking myself for not having him out a few days sooner because he actually recommended a Chinese herbal treatment for Lyme by Jing tang herbals that according to him works very well, is easier on the stomach than the tetrocycline antibiotics, and doesn't contain any prohibited substances. Like all equine chiropractors in NY, he is a licensed vet. I wish I had known about it before starting her on doxycycline.

But anyway, I was very happy because both horses did well today. Amba isn't showing any hypersensitivity like the last time she had Lyme because she didn't even pull any bitchy faces at this guy and just let him do whatever without moving. She did even better than the last time despite being in heavier work, a testament to the treeless saddle I believe, with zero signs of back misalignments. She also did not have stiff stifles, which was an issue the last time she had lyme. Overall she has an excellent range of motion.

Then Cannoli did very well, too, much better than I expected. The last time he had some issues everywhere, but today his whole front end was fine and it was just the area around the sacrum that was a bit out of whack. But when the guy adjusted Cannoli’s  back and pelvis he got big releases right away, which he said would not have happened if Cannoli had an injury like an old fracture there or something like that. All in all, he said that for the amount of times Cannoli raced he’s actually not in that bad of a shape.  🤷 He also said that Cannoli is a very well behaved ottb.

[lesbiansforboromir]

If a person wanted to write Boromir fic, do you have any tips on how to capture the Tolkieny tone in writing/best scenes to re-read for characterization?

LET ME SEE if I can’t compile a nice guide for you;

First thing’s first! Boromir does not include his own feelings into his statements unless it’s utterly against his will, such as the ring-controlled scene. In fact his discussion with Frodo is the first and last time he expresses his emotions verbally at all and even then it seems to be squeezed out of him in the midst of his ranting ‘how it ANGERS me’ like he is almost shocked at how angry he actually is in that moment, so much so that he can’t hold it back like normal. 

‘I am’ statements in general don’t come often either. He doesn’t use ‘I’ at all if he can help it. If he is describing the war or some conflicts or battles, he uses ‘us’ or ‘we’ ‘Some said that it could be seen, like a great black horseman, a dark shadow under the moon. Wherever he came a madness filled our foes, but fear fell on our boldest, so that horse and man gave way and fled. Only a remnant of our eastern force came back, destroying the last bridge that still stood amid the ruins of Osgiliath. 'I was in the company that held the bridge, until it was cast down behind us. Four only were saved by swimming: my brother and myself and two others.’ Here he mentions himself only as an explanation for the circumstances, and goes quickly back to talking as a collective. (This is the first and last time he mentions Faramir too, and never by name)

The times when Boromir uses ‘I’ statements most is for defining his own actions and intent or when he is offering advice. 'I have let my horn cry at setting forth, and though thereafter we may walk in the shadows, I will not go forth as a thief in the night.' He is clear to himself and others about what he will and won’t accept. 'I will add a word of advice, if I may,' said Boromir. 'I was born under the shadow of the White Mountains and know something of journeys in the high places. We shall meet bitter cold, if no worse, before we come down on the other side. It will not help us to keep so secret that we are frozen to death. When we leave here, where there are still a few trees and bushes, each of us should carry a faggot of wood, as large as he can bear.' Note here he is also polite but in a confident manner. ‘If I may’ is added to acknowledge that he is not the leader of the company, but he is not shy with offering his advice and assuming it useful. 

When he’s in more familiar and less strict circumstances, and actually sometimes even when he isn’t, Boromir has what I would call a... hint of sarcasm in his tone at all times. He’s always got a little sardonic wit with him,  `Let those call it the wind who will; there are fell voices on the air; and these stones are aimed at us.' See? It’s not... OVERT but it’s definitely a little long suffering/etc. Boromir... talks like an old man I guess is my point. 'What do you say to fire?' asked Boromir suddenly. 'The choice seems near now between fire and death, Gandalf. Doubtless we shall be hidden from all unfriendly eyes when the snow has covered us, but that will not help us.' ESPECIALLY when he’s talking to Gandalf, there’s just a bit of dark humour and ‘cheek’. `I do not know which to hope,' said Boromir grimly: `that Gandalf will find what he seeks, or that coming to the cliff we shall find the gates lost for ever. All choices seem ill, and to be caught between wolves and the wall the likeliest chance. Lead on!' jhadsjd BITCHY... but very funny and he’s right. And here also, ‘wolves and the wall’, he tends towards almost... poetic isn’t quite the word but he likes sayings and flowing dialogue. 

Continuing on from that point, Boromir is also generally... not WARM but he’s got a way of speaking that is comfortable and confident in comradery. Especially with Gimli, actually, he often makes these lighter sighed statements that have a lick of humour to them. Again, it’s never particularly overt, more of a constant underlying note in his wording, even in the latter parts of the fellowship. `Ah, it is as I said,' growled Gimli. 'It was no ordinary storm. It is the ill will of Caradhras. He does not love Elves and Dwarves, and that drift was laid to cut off our escape.' 'But happily your Caradhras has forgotten that you have Men with you,' said Boromir, who came up at that moment. `And doughty Men too, if I may say it; though lesser men with spades might have served you better.’ This is one of my favourite lines of his it’s just like... confident, not over proud, you can hear him grinning and the leetle wry tone he’s speaking in. Even here! In like the very last days of his life, he still has this quality! 

We might labour far upstream and yet miss it in the fog. I fear we must leave the River now, and make for the portage-way as best we can from here.' `That would not be easy, even if we were all Men,' said Boromir.     `Yet such as we are we will try it,' said Aragorn.  'Aye, we will,' said Gimli. `The legs of Men will lag on a rough road, while a Dwarf goes on, be the burden twice his own weight, Master Boromir! ' (later) 'Well, here we are, and here we must pass another night,' said Boromir. `We need sleep, and even if Aragorn had a mind to pass the Gates of Argonath by night, we are all too tired-except, no doubt, our sturdy dwarf.'     Gimli made no reply: he was nodding as he sat.

AND ANOTHER THING. Whilst Boromir CAN be an orator and give long speeches, he tends towards economy of speech. This is especially noticeable, again, between him and Gandalf. Gandalf will go on for three paragraphs about something, patronising him, explaining a lot of unnecessary stuff to sound clever. And then Boromir will just answer with; `We do not know what he expects,' said Boromir. `He may watch all roads, likely and unlikely. In that case to enter Moria would be to walk into a trap, hardly better than knocking at the gates of the Dark Tower itself. The name of Moria is black.' And that’s it! AND HE’S FFUCKIN RIGHT GGSHAHGS

So you’re usually going to be trying to narrow down his speech to it’s bare essentials in order to get the point across and nothing more. Stream lined, impersonal, confident and clear are the hallmarks of Boromir’s speech patterns. NO. SHOUTING. Unless to be heard or in a brief flash of shock, immediately restrained afterwards. Actually if Boromir has any kind of outburst, he tends to walk away from whatever situation caused it rather than allow anything to escalate. Boromir’s verbal tone is almost always neutral, wry or reassuring/comfortable. From experience, I can tell you this is... GRUELLING to write. You want so desperately for him to say what he’s thinking and feeling, what’s important to him, but he’s utterly incapable unless briefly possessed by evil. Not even when he’s literally dying will this change, though that might be because it was Aragorn at his deathside. Which brings me onto my final point.

We actually have no idea how Boromir might interact with people he actually likes and is friends with, let alone his family. I’m inclined to believe that warm comradery element just becomes more overt but little else changes. But you’re entirely at liberty to decide for yourself. Certainly though it is different from how he behaves throughout the fellowship. We never really meet Boromir... is a thought I can hardly bare so we’re STOPPING now. 

[cookinguptales]

So I just saw a theory of Guillermo possibly being the reincarnation of Nandor’s old horse, John 😂 What do you think of that theory?

I could see this show going there tbh. It’s just the right amount of ridiculous and plausible for a theory like that to work for this specific show, especially because IT IS canon that Gregor was a horse (and a mouse?) in his past life so it’s not like the past lover being an animal/pet in their past life wouldn’t make any sense, cause it does in this show’s canon lore. Also it would still make sense for their relationship, by how much Nandor adored John (he was probably the only living thing Nandor loved the most in his whole life, way more than any of his wives just from the sole fact of him remembering his name and none of his wives names, also for the fact that killing him was his biggest regret in life), and by how “delicious” (but devastated ofc) he was when he had to eat him (could be a great opportunity for a lil cheeky “I saw what ya did there” parallel in the future(?)lol. Buy maybe not even the future, since it’s already been established that Nandor found Guillermo “hard to resist” at the start).

Also Nandor has said at one point that John was “his closest companion” and then of course we have him saying that about Guillermo in 3x04. Hmmm 🧐

-----------

I remember this theory going around a year or two ago lmao.

It is not one that I generally subscribe to haha. I think it was really popular before Guillermo became quite such a badass, at which point people realized that his real personality (which would presumably carry throughout lifetimes) is actually petty and bitchy and strong as all hell. Not just a beast of burden, so to speak. (Though I suppose some horses are actually pretty stubborn and bitchy themselves, but John wasn't described that way lmao.) So I think the Nandor's horse parallel started to fall apart a little bit, especially once their power dynamic started to change.

tbh I could even see it being a theory that held quite a lot of water for the reasons you stated in season 2. But I do think that Guillermo's personality started changing quite a bit in s3 and I don't think it held up quite as well then. I guess I could see them going for something crazy like that...? But it does feel more like a Clement joke than what they're going for currently.

I suppose I wouldn't really rule anything out for this group of writers. (Crazy people...) And who knows, they could go for a whole "Guillermo's had hundreds of lives but this is the first time he's really been able to be his full self" thing.

But... no. It's not a theory that I think about often. lmao. I guess it's at the level of "eh, I guess I could write fic about it?" but not "oh I really like this one and think it'll happen."

[anunvalidcritic]

Justice League: Snyder Cut

(DISCLAIMER: MY OPINION IS MY OWN AND CAN BE DEEMED INVALID TO THOSE WHO DON’T CARE FOR IT.)

Oh, the time has come my friends! Now, I originally did a review on Batman V.S. Superman and I didn’t care for it, so I deleted it. But before I start, I would like y’all to read this statement made by @verified-villain-fxcker - You can click HERE to read it. As I stated in my repost, I couldn’t have said it better. May Autumn Snyder continue to rest in peace. Let’s get started!

It’s been so long since I’ve made a post I can’t even remember how I do this LOL.

CLARK is outta there to say the least...

WONDER WOMAN and LOIS look flabbergasted, as they should... BRUCE as well.

Talk about a shock-wave scream 

All jokes aside, the hate that LEX has towards SUPERMAN is just to much energy to be giving to another person..

THESE BITCHIES ARE READY

why are they letting a minority approach the fucking the cube?!?!

*insert travel montage scene here*

                      Part 1 - “Don’t count on it, Batman.”

BRUCE knows damn well he’s talking to AQUAMAN. Let’s move this shit along lol

“Oh Gotham? How’s that shit hole?” - AQUAMAN

Ik these bitchies aren’t singing rofl

I’d sniff anything wore by Jason Momoa too.

“Maybe a man who broods in a cave isn’t cut out to be a recruiter.” - ALFRED

TALK YO SHIT ALFRED!!!!

AMY ADAMS can literally take my heart, step on it, throw it in a river and I still wouldn’t be mad. 

Here comes the lovely WONDER WOMAN!

broooo her hands were moving like Donnie Yen in Ip Man!

Fucked that entire ceiling up

Ofc the one who tried to touch it would make the stupid statement. 

STEPPENWOLF is really wildin’ out

Don’t look back! I hate it when they look back!!

These are some strong as women!

                             PART 2 - “The Age of Heroes”

“It’s toxic, that’s good.” - STEPPENWOLF

I can only imagine that this is how toxic people think. 

this dude really just threw that lil demon fella like it was nothin’ lmao

You know you're working at a job for too long when you say this is the first time in a while that they're going home early smdh

Now that shit was pretty lit....

SILAS thinkin’ shit I better check on my son. 

“You know a lot about monsters, don’t you? Especially how to make them.” - CYBORG

If that isn’t teen angst, then I don’t know wtf is lmao

Seeing Gal in this tomb makes me want to re-watch Wonder Woman 1 all over again!

DARKSEID ol’ trifflin’ ass

plopped him down like he was dirty laundry

God bless Willem Dafoe, this man is a fuckin’ legend!

“This world is divided. They’re a primitive species. Unevolved and at war with one another. Too separate to be one.” - STEPPENWOLF

DeSaad kinda looks like Doctor Doom in the Fantasic Four reboot lmao

GREEN LATERNS!!!!!!!!!!!! OH SHIT!!!!!!!!

we really need a Green Lantern Corps moving...

ZEUS + ARES = A Dynamic Duo When They Aren’t Being Dicks To Each Other

You know I feel bad for man because all they did was bury that shit in the ground rofl

                  Part 3 - “Beloved Mother, Beloved Son”

BARRY + IRIS = Love at First Sight 

The burger can’t be that good like damn. 

Bro the detail on his fucking shoes and the glass!!

ROFL PLEASE TELL ME HE TOOK THE HOTDOG FOR HIS DOG!?!? 

damn did the car really need to explode...

lol BARRY must really need the job lol

... I would’ve just played dead after he threw me against that rock...

Man of Steel probably has one of the best soundtracks not just for a superhero movie but just in general

Americans love their football!

I have this love-hate relationship with CYBORG being in the JL and not with the TITANS you know since he’s a kid, but he’s a college student in this one. 

Thank God DIANA spoke with VICTOR instead of BRUCE because I honestly don’t think he would’ve gotten him on board.

Everyone can literally zigzag zoom across this planet at undeniable speed except for BATMAN lol

Come on, VIC, help the lady out.

You know honestly, BARRY has a pretty cool pad for someone who's trying to get by paying for a Criminal Justice Degree. 

“A very attractive Jewish boy. Who drinks milk, I don’t drink milk.” - BARRY

“Fuck the World.” - CYBORG

dang Ik DIANA has every right to grieve over STEVE, but damn that man has her whipped!

“You’re looking at the hottest thing on Earth. The exact same thing I said to my prom date. She dumped me anyway.” - RYAN CHOI

Why does MERA have an accent in this but not in AQUAMAN?? (ik the answer)

DAAAYYUUUMMMN MERA TURNED INTO A WHOLE BLOOD BENDER!

                               PART 4 - “Change Machine”

CYBORG just glided over silently

STEPPENWOLF + WONDER WOMAN = EPIC FIGHT SCENE

Seeing BARRY move like that to stop the debris and to ping DIANA’S sword really is amazing..

But he should not be screaming like that LOL

How do you not remember the planet that’s habitants almost killed you?? Because if that was me, I wouldn’t have forgotten that shit at all!

 Would've held a big ass grudge until I could go back. 

“I know we’re all thinking the same thing right now. Who’s gonna say it? I’m not gonna say it.” - BARRY

WOOOAAHHH J’ONN JONES?! (forgot about that)

 “There are six, not five. There is no us without him.” - BRUCE

Damn, no faith at all 

                         PART 5 - “ALL The King’s Horses”

ICONIC DIALOGUE

BARRY - “Wonder Woman. What do you think, man? You think she’d go for a younger guy?”

VICTOR - “She’s 5,000 years old, Barry. Every guy is a younger guy.”

I would’ve kept swippin’ that ID like a cashier at Wal-Mart swippin’ a debit card.

They're movin’ a little too slow for me. Ik they’ve never been on the ship before, but I would’ve been zoomin’ through that entire ship just to hurry and get the job done. 

NOT THE PREGNANCY TEST

Damn, they couldn’t have at least picked up the photo??

The foreshadowing was spectacular! It will always amaze me. 

I’m sure Allstate will cover that person’s car...

Just when LOIS was about to move on. 

CLARK grabbed DIANA like miss me with that Rafiki shit.

I would’ve come back to my senses too after looking at Amy Adams. 

AQUAMAN + THE FLASH = A CONUNDRUM

DR. SILAS takin’ one for the team

                              PART 6 - “Something Darker”

As crazy as radiation is, it’s quite an amazing spectacle.

I wish this Justice League movie could’ve held off until we got some other heroes such as the Green Lanterns, Hawkgirl, and many others. 

Our generation was truly blessed to have an incredible actor as SUPERMAN, and we are not putting him to use!

JONATHAN sounds like President Biden lol

Alright, team?! Break!

AQUAMAN is totally enjoying this fight. He rode that Parademon like a surfboard.

AQUAMAN + CYBORG + FLASH = *THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN*

I swear every scene that WONDER WOMAN enters into does not fail to include the “Ancient Lamentation Music”. 

VICTOR hurry up and say “one” god damnnit!!

SUPERMAN COLD!!!!

Somebody needs to put this fight on WorldStar

BARRY = HE’S A RUNNA HE’S A TRACK STAHHHHARRR!!!

THAT WAS FUCKING IMMACULATE

The Unity  = The Three Bitchies

I bet DARKSEID will remember that shit now

                        EPILOGUE - “A Father Twice Over”

VICTOR = A Final Requiem

LOL VULKO and MERA look stressed tf out!

“Uh, I have too much to live for. And more important things to do.” - LEX

A cocky motherfucker LMAO

Alright, we’re back in this type of dream sequence. 

“Who have you ever loved?” - MERA

Uh, bitch his parents, Robin tf?!

Thank you, JOKER, for stating the facts for Ms. Fish-stick

 Oh shit, they let LOIS die, goddamn it!

HARLEY’S DEAD TOO?!?!?!

BRUCE LOOK SICK AF!!!

Well, the dream is over once again...

I just don’t see how people can live with all those fuckin’ windows. 

“Oh, and some have called me The Martian Manhunter.” - J’ONN

Alright...

________

Yes, the movie was long but what needed to be expressed was. As we already the Snyder Cut wasn’t supposed to be seen because a father simply wanted to grieve the death of his child. I’ll once again reiterate what @verified-villain-fxcker you don't have to like the film but at least give it the benefit of the doubt from its predecessor. For me, I did enjoy watching his version, but let’s be honest what he who shall not be named did was just fucked up. 

[abbih1]

I think one of my biggest pet peeves as a barrel racer is hearing people that have never actually rode a real barrel horse (not the horse that wins at play days, the horse that is at the bare minimum a 3D horse at super shows) say that "barrel horses aren't broke" "barrel racing is easy compared to XYZ" (usually xyz=dressage) "its super easy to train a barrel horse" "barrel horses aren't worth much." "Barrel racers are catty/bitchy" Really?

Yeah, training a backyard bred POS that just beats all your buddies at the local playday/shodeo/gymkhana is easy. But training a horse that is actually competitive is pretty tough. Its not just "run fast and turn" they have to be able to turn correctly and quickly. Ask them to turn too tight for how in shape they are or their confo? They have no choice but to shift their weight to their front end, disengaging their hip, and lose all power. I've ridden horses that were taught to turn incorrectly and its one of the hardest problems to fix. Id rather deal with a gate sour horse because the first thing you have to do is teach them to how to carry themselves correctly on a straight line and in a giant circle. Once you get that done, you have to work on making the circle smaller. Once they can make a barrel sized circle correctly, you can go back to the barrel, but then you're going to have a huge fight because the horse will want to use old habits. Then you have to work on adding speed and making the right size turn. This process can easily take a year or more depending on how long the horse was allowed to turn incorrectly. Training a barrel horse correctly is difficult and it takes a lot of time and work.

"They aren't broke" thats a load of BS. They aren't broke by a dressage horses standards, but a dressage horse isn't broke by a western horses standards either. A competitive well trained barrel horse should be able to : pivot off the forehand, pivot off the hip, sidepass, back, arc into a turn without over arching, counter-arc (arc away from a turn), have good lead changes on a run, carry themselves well, be responsive to leg and sear cues, and should be able to make a run somewhat independently. They are very broke, many just tend to be hot headed and we often don't teach things they don't need. They aren't hard mouthed runaways.

"They aren't worth much." Uh, JL Dash Ta Heaven sold for like 1.75 million, he was a barrel horse that then stood at stud and has produced many great offspring. A yearling just sold at the pink buckle for 250k, her dam's offspring have won over 1.2million and her sire is Tres Seis. In 2020, a yearling son of Epic Leader sold for 170k at the BFA sale. Hell, I paid 10k 7 years ago for my mare and she's only a 1/2D local jackpot, 2/3D supershow horse (kinda depends on arena size what D she falls in) and she was the cheapest I could afford that still fit my needs. And she's a tough ride.

"Barrel racers are bitchy" yeah, without a doubt some are. But the same is true for every discipline. How many people say that English riders are stuck up? Proportionally, barrel racers really aren't any bitchier than any other event, but there are a lot more of us than other events, so it seems like more. I've been around so many that are the most down to earth, give you the shirt off their back kinda people.

So where do all these stereotypes come from? Well, barrel racing is the second largest event (at least of the rodeo events). Team roping is the largest, and they both tend to have the same issues for the same reason.

They have pretty low enty barriers. You can turn about any horse into a low level barrel/rope horse. There's also a lot of opportunities for beginners to start competing and have success (ex. 5d races and the USTRC number system). And more people can physically do them (ex. You can be paralyzed and still do it). Because its so easy to get into these events, we see a lot of beginners or people with poor horsemanship doing it. And usually, they never rise up the ranks until they learn good horsemanship skills and training methods. Its both a blessing and a curse for these events. Because its so easy for people to get involved, it helps the industry stay alive, there's more events, and the payout is usually pretty good. But it also means that there's a ton of bad horseman that can do it and have a small amount of success (enough to stay hooked) which inevitably paints a bad picture for the industry and spreads a lot of misinformation and stereotypes.

[ot3-watch]

Episode 3: The Wedding Job

And so we begin the “The Network Fucked Up” saga with episode 7 which is SUPPOSED to be episode 3. 

Huge men drinking out of tiny teacups is hilarious and will never stop being so. 

Nate, stop being such a control freak. “I thought I pick the clients” DUDE CHILL

“No more, no less” honey you getting much more

“We’ll get back to you” FUCK YOU NATE

PARKER LOVES KIDS EPISODE 1

NATE IF YOU HAD FOUND THIS CASE YOU’D TAKE IT IN AN INSTANT YOU’RE JUST MAD YOU DIDN’T FIND IT

FBI!!! TAGGERT AND MCSWEETEN!! AHH OKAY I LOVE THEM

“They just need validation” BITCH ME TOO THE FUCK

TODAY IN THEY MAKE PEOPLE LOOK UNNECESSARILY STUPID

Hardison is so gregarious it’s so amazing to watch

“I don’t have to type anything right” oh my god

TAPES! “HARDISON HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WALK OUT OF THE FBI OFFICES WITH A BOX FULL OF TAPES?” “pUNCH someBODY!” “oh I’m gonna PUNCH SOMEBODY” God i love them

Jersey Boys I can’t, it’s terrible guys. Do mobsters have no taste

Oh look, it’s that woman who’s in EVERYTHING

What is Parker wearing on her head

Everyone talks about bridezillas, but no one talks about mother of the bridezillas. 

WHY DIDN’T THEY HIRE A WEDDING PLANNER IN THE FIRST PLACE

SOPHIE FOCUSING ON HER PERSONAL PROBLEMS WITH NATE INSTEAD OF THE JOB EPISODE 1

ELIOT THE CHEF EPISODE 1

HOLY SHIT I LOVE HIM

ELIOT GETTING TOO ATTACHED TO HIS COVER STORY AND FORGETTING ABOUT THE JOB EPISODE 1

He’s so mad that she doesn’t like it I lovehim I LOVE HIM I FUCKING LOVE ELIOT SPENCER

“Imagine if we had bugs planted all over the house” WHY THE FUCK DON’T YOU

How the fuck is the dress so ugly? WHY IS THAT WHAT THEY WANT? WHO WEARS PINK RUCHED SATIN WITH BLUE FLOWERS

I mean, other than, like, me @6 years old. But really, no one should be wearing the clothes I wore at 6 years old. 

Also it’s just.. the worst length. Like if it was a long dress it might be better. 

Nate the pastor episode 1

God that future son in law seems like a dream guy I love him

Maria Moscone deserves better than her scumbag parents let’s be real

SOPHIE TAKING THINGS TOO PERSONALLY AND GETTING THE WAY OF THE JOB

THIS!!! THIS IS WHY THE NETWORK ORDER MAKES NO SENSE!!! THIS HERE’S AN AIMEE REFERENCE BUT IF THEY’D ALREADY DONE THE TWO HORSE JOB, HARDISON WOULD’VE KNOWN ABOUT HER AND NOT ASKED

“What did you do?” “Me? I liberated CROATIA!” *angry apple bite* i CAN’T I LOVE HIM

DO PEOPLE NOT KNOW PARKER ISN’T A BRIDESMAID? HOW IS THAT DRESS FOOLING ANYONE

Hardison in love with Parker is so pure

… Okay but shouldn’t maria and blonde n’ bitchy know that Parker isn’t a bridesmaid? Wouldn’t the other bridesmaids know? Why does no one in the wedding party question ANYTHING?

HARDISON’S SCARF THOUGH

WHY IS HER MOTHER WEARING WHITE?? WHO WEARS WHITE TO A WEDDING WTF

MARIA MOSCONE DESERVES BETTER

SOPHIE FUCK OFF!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS RIGHT NOW?? THIS ISN’T IMPORTANT SOPHIE!! SOPHIE STOP IT!! SOPHIE SHUT UP!

M A R I A M O S C O N E D E S E R V E S B E T T E R

The Butcher of Kiev is the best subplot of this episode but HOW THE FUCK DID THEY ALL KNOW HE AND ELIOT HAD A PAST

Sophie is so fucking annoying in this episode I hate her right now

THESE PEACHES AREN’T GONNA POACH THEMSELVES PARKER

OH MY GOD NATE SHUT UP

NATE SHUT UP

NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR THIS NATE

SHUT THE FUCK UP NATE

THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU NATE

“In my day, no one would do business at their daughter’s wedding” WELL THEN DON’T DO BUSINESS 

Parker’s face smushed against the glass is great

Ahh yes, you don’t get the money so you SHOOT THE BRIDE. Because THAT’s not gonna cause a scene and get you arrested. 

OK be honest is there anyone who was surprised by the wife being responsible? Bc I’m not

Eliot’s face is like “TFW the guy whose face you burned shows up at a wedding you’re supposed to be pretending to but actually are catering with a cleaver and backup and the overwhelming urge to kill you”

I know that’s super specific but that’s what it is

Parker’s really good at playing drunk

But also, why did they not question what she was doing behind the curtain

Like she just happened to appear after they were finished talking about VERY ILLEGAL THINGS and they aren’t at all suspicious?

Also, Parker using Hardison as a cover is just… I love it. 

You’re laughing. Eliot brought a whisk to a knife fight and you’re laughing. 

The saddest part is Eliot has any sort of cooking implement. You should be terrified right now

Okay so let me get this straight. A guy is StrANGLING you, you get your hands on a rolling pin, and your instinct isn’t, “hey, I can use this rolling pin to clobber him over the head,” the instinct is “Let me use this rolling pin to get my hands on the appetizers?” Like, yes, lemon juice, but also ROLLING PINS ARE HEAVY AND YOU COULD AT LEAST KNOCK THE GUY OUT

But no, let me shove fucking MUSHROOMS in his eyes because otherwise how else would we get the symmetry of the butcher yelling “IT BUUUURRRNNNNSS” both times he fights Eliot

And then he uses the fucking serving tray to bonk him on the head INSTEAD OF THE DUCKING ROLLING PIN

LIKE SERIOUSLY HAVE YOU EVER USED A ROLLING PIN AS A WEAPON

I’M NOT SAYING I HAVE BUT OUCH

Like, just… If I had a choice between being hit over the head with a thin sheet of metal or a log of wood with metal inside it, I’d pick the sheet, because at least that one has some give. 

“It’s the lemon juice” How does Eliot make that sound badass

“You just kill a guy with an appetizer?” How the FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW THAT??

WHY DOES NO ONE ASSUME A ROLLING PIN WOULD BE AN OKAY WEAPON

Or like LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE IN THAT KITCHEN. THERE ARE CAST IRON PANS IN THAT KITCHEN. Or just liek… regular pans. HAVE YOU EVER DROPPED A NONSTICK PAN ON YOUR FOOT? IT FUCKING HURTS?? WHY IS THE APPETIZER YOUR FIRST INSTINCT NATE

Also, he’s clearly not dead. What the fuck

“I don’t know, maybe” I KNOW AND tHE ANSWER IS NO YOU OBVIOUSLY DIDN”T

...who honeymoons in Kansas? Is that a thing? 

They are a very cute couple i’ve gotta be honest

“Exactly what denomination are you reverend?” He isn’t

“You’re not Mary Poppins, youre a bitch” Okay pot. Okay. 

LITERALLY THAT FUCKING HANDBAG WOULD AHVE MADE A BETTER WEAPON THAN THE MUSHROOMS

How does Hardison remember all those numbers? He didn’t even hear a bunch of them, but he takes the book out so slowly? DOES HARDISON HAVE AN EIDETIC MEMORY? WHY IS THAT NOT A PLOT POINT MORE OFTEN

Like I’m just saying, someone tries to tell me their phone number more than 3-4 numbers at a time and I get confused. But hardison just… remembers

What happened to the cash? The daughter gets the fucking wedding present she DESERVES for putting up with her awful parents that’s what

Hardison appreciating Eliot’s cooking is EVERYTHING

“I left him five dollars for socks” Well everyone needs socks. 

Okay wait I just had a thought

If Nate isn’t an actual Reverend, is that marriage even legal? Does Nate just happen to also be a legally ordained minister? Did they have to get him an online ordainment? WhY did we not see that scene? WHAT IF HE’S NOT AND THEY AREN’T ACTUALLY MARRIED

And today on “I clearly think far too much about these things”

PARKER WIth KIDS IS EVERYTHING

Eliot cooking for his family I love it

ELIOT IN A TANK TOP I LOVE IT

Was Eliot’s arms the most important part of this scene? Probably not

Is it the only thing I care about? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY

I”M A SIMPLE GIRL AND HE HAS VERY NICE ARMS OKAY

Final thoughts: 9/10. I love this episode so much guys. Points off because really who the fuck wears white to a wedding. I know that’s the point but its very off putting. Also for the bridesmaid dresses because they were ugly as sin. Actual point off for the wife secretly being awful. Very predictable, ew. Extra points for Chef!Eliot. Extra points for Eliot’s arms. Points off for Nate and Sophie being completely insufferable. Extra points for Parker being great in this episode. Points off for the FUCKING ROLLING PIN YES I’M STILL ANGRY DONT @ ME. Extra points for Eliot killing a man with an appetizer because it’s still funny. Extra points for no IYS or Sam references THANK THE FUCKING LORD. Or, at least, if there was, i didn’t notice, meaning it wasn’t egregious so whatever. So yeah, anyway I really fucking love this episode. 

IYS Count: 2/3

Sam Count: 2/3  AND WE ARE ALL BETTER OFF FOR IT

[achillestiel]

the parent trap only works if you’re identical | part six

AO3 Link - 3.1k words so you might want to just read on ao3

Tag List: @littlerachelbee @imthedoctorlove @deancas-handprint @castiel-loves-dean @wanderermatthews @thelahatiel @priscillahc @mridzyp @multi-fandom-dark-lord @thefantasyfiend @harmonyhelms @imlivingliferightnow ​ @kara-merlin @still-clowning-in-this-house @never-forever-more @continuezmesfilserrants @2musiclover2 @castiels-bitch @stjimmie @cmths5 

When Dean woke the next morning it was to the distinctive smell of waffles and the even more distinctive sound of Claire laughing. Letting out a small groan, Dean tried to move but found he was being held in place by the arms, and legs, of one very naked Cas Novak. Ah yes, how could he have forgotten about Cas’ obsession with wrapping himself around Dean like some kind of octopus? As Dean began to rouse he became distinctively more aware of the situation from the night before. The childish tit for tat fight with Cas that had ended up with them in bed together. Because of course that would happen. Both he and Cas knew it would happen because that's what they did. They fought like cat and dog before inevitably falling into bed together. This was why they’d come up with the stupid agreement to separate the twins, this was why they hadn’t seen each other in so many years. Because despite all the fights and how goddamn crazy Cas drove Dean, he loved him. 

“Dad! Dads! Waffles are nearly ready!” Dean heard Claire yell from the kitchen. “Dads!”

“Claire, stop yelling. Be down in a minute!” Dean yelled back. 

“You’re yelling!” 

“Claire!”

“Fine!” Claire yelled.

“Why is there yelling?” Cas grumbled from where his face was pressed into Dean’s shoulder. “It’s too early for yelling.”

“That would be our daughter.” Dean said, suppressing a groan. “We should...we should probably get up before the pair of them barge in here.” Dean added, partly because it was true. Claire was probably a minute away from marching upstairs but also because his brain was a good thirty seconds away from imploding. All he knew was that he needed to get out of the house as quickly as possible, hoping to God that twins hadn’t heard anything from the night before. 

Dean, of course, was completely unaware that the twins had woken up at six to disable the battery on the impala. He was also unaware that Claire and Jack had sent messages to Sam and Gabriel, stating that Cas had not slept in his own bed.  

“You’re right.” Cas grumbled, removing his arms from around Dean. For a moment he missed the warmth and weight of Cas’ arms. “We should go downstairs.”

“Cas...should we talk about last night?” Dean stammered out as he watched Cas slide out of the bed, stark naked. Cas groaned and stretched, the muscles in his back rippling and all Dean could do was stare. For a sparklingly brief moment in time, Cas had been his. They’d belonged to each other. Dean could have slid out the bed and wrap his arms around Cas’ waist like it was nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Can you guarantee that it won’t end in a fight?” Cas asked. He turned back to Dean, raising en eyebrow as he grabbed for his discarded underwear from the night before. Dean let out a groan and ran his hands over his face. 

“Probably not.” Dean said from behind his hands.

“Dad! Waffles!” This time it was Jack yelling up the stairs.

“Jack, stop yelling. We’re coming down.” Cas called back. “Let me get changed, I’ll be right back.” Cas said, exiting the room while Dean just flopped back onto the bed. He was too old to be having an emotional crisis. He needed to get dressed. He needed to stop thinking about Cas naked. 

"Good morning my little rays of sunshine!" Gabriel called when Dean and Cas walked into the kitchen. 

“I thought you went home.” Dean grumbled. 

“I did, I used my key this morning.”

"I'm getting my key back." Cas muttered as he shuffled over to the coffee machine. 

"Sleep well?" Gabriel asked. "Worked up an appetite for waffles?" He added, cocking an eyebrow. Dean glared back before sitting down at the table. “Just asking a question.” Gabriel said.

“Not now Gabriel, just not now.” Cas said as he filled two mugs with coffee, handing one to Dean without saying a word. 

“Thanks.” Dean said as Claire sauntered over with a plate full of waffles, syrup and fruit. “Morning, you packed Claire?” he asked. Claire just rolled her eyes and pointed at the waffles. 

“Just eat breakfast dad.” She said while Jack handed a plate over to Cas. The twins sat down, their own plates stacked high with waffles, and exchanged smug looks. 

“Well isn’t this lovely?” Gabriel said, sitting down across from the twins. Dean gave him a Sammy bitchy look as Gabriel grinned along with the twins. 

“Ok, just spit it out.” Dean said. He pointed a syrup cover fork at Claire. “Because I know you Claire Mary Winchester, you can’t keep an opinion to yourself.”

“Are you and Dad getting back together?” Jack blurted out, staring at Cas. Sadly, Cas had taken a generous sip of his coffee. Cas spluttered and turned to just stare at Dean with a pleading look. 

“Kids...look...your dad and I still really care about each other-”

“We gathered that after last night.” Jack said, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

“You guys are not quiet.” Claire added while Gabriel howled with laughter.

“Oh my god.” Cas muttered, burying his head in hands. 

“OK, ok let’s stop talking about that.” Dean said holding up a hand because Cas looked a few seconds away from having a meltdown. “Kids, your dad and I still care about each other but we’re not going to get back together.” Dean said. 

“But why?” Claire and Jack asked. 

“For a lot of reasons that you’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Bulls-”

“Claire.” Dean warned. 

“Ok, that’s horse poop.” Claire said. Dean just sat there and stared down his daughter until she huffed loudly and went back to eating her waffles. The rest of breakfast was a quiet affair, Dean and Cas barely exchanging a few words while Gabriel, Claire and Jack just smirked into their waffles. When breakfast was finally over Dean forced Claire upstairs to grab her stuff while he went outside to start the car. 

Dean waited for the engine to turn over but nothing happened. “No baby, just start please.” Dean pleaded, sending out a silent prayer. He tried once again but nothing happened. Great, just great. Clambering out the car, Dean stomped back into the house where the twins were waiting for him. Claire’s duffel bag at her feet. 

“What’s up?” She asked. 

“The car wont start, I’m just gonna grab a torch so I can check over the engine.” Dean said. 

“Not that I don’t think you're capable of looking over a car Dean-o, but why don’t I call my mechanic?” Gabriel asked, walking into the hallway holding a mug of coffee. “He can come and look over the car while you get to spend some time with the kiddos.” At Gabriel’s suggestion Jack’s face lit up. 

“We could see the memorial or the library. Walk along the waterfront!” Jack suggested. 

“Or go to the Smithsonian!” Claire offered. 

“Who's going to the Smithsonian?” Cas asked as he too walked into the hallway.

“The car won’t start. I just need to grab a torch-”

“But Uncle Gabriel has said he can call a mechanic. That way we can spend the day together.” Jack intoned. “Please dad, we don’t know when we’re next going to be able to spend the day together.” he added. Both he and Claire gave Dean the puppy dog eyes and all of Dean’s steely resolve dissolved. Goddamn kids. Dean thought. 

“Ok, if Cas isn’t busy then we can do something.” Dean said. “I’m only agreeing to this because it’ll stop you two from complaining.”

“Us? Complain? Never.” Jack said. 

“I have nothing on today, I had the whole weekend free to spend time with Jack after he came back from camp.” Cas said. 

“Excellent! I’ll call the old mechanic and you four can stroll around the capital with the dysfunctional family you are.” Gabriel said, beaming as he strolled out the room, phone in hand. How the hell did that just happen? Dean thought as the twins whooped loudly, running upstairs to go and get dressed. 

“How...how did they do that?” Cas asked, looking from the staircase back to Dean. 

“I don’t know...never let either of them get into politics, that’s how dictators are born.” Dean said. “I guess we should get ready...if you’re ok with this?”

“Dean, it’s fine. If it makes the kids happy then I’m happy.” Cas said.

-

An hour later Cas found himself, the twins and Dean walking around the main tourist spots of Washington DC. The sun blazed down on them as Cas stopped every now and then to offer facts or anecdotes. He pointed out his office as they made their way down Pennsylvania Avenue.  

“Not too shabby Cas, makes the garage back home look like a salvage yard.” Dean said as Cas showed them the Eisenhower building. 

“Not be silly, it’s just a building.” Cas said, feeling his face blush. 

“Dude, we can see the White House from here. That’s cool.” Dean said. 

“I’d offer you a tour but I know as soon as I walk in there I’ll be dragged into some budgetary discussion.” Cas explained. Under the hot sun they made their way towards 17th Street, both twins talking excitedly as they got closer to the Lincoln reflecting pool. 

“Winter Soldier opening scene recreation?” Jack asked Claire excitedly. 

“Loser buys the other ice cream.” Claire shot back. “Three, two, one...go!” She cried. 

Cas watched as the twins sprinted away, laughing at each as they pumped their arms to go faster. Claire whooping loudly when it looked like she was winning. 

"So...last night." Dean said, his hands in his pockets as he glanced at Cas. Instantly the mood changed but Cas knew they needed to have this conversation away from the twins.  

"It was an inevitability." Cas said as he watched Jack push forward, laughing hysterically as Claire tried to catch him up. "As utterly impossible I find you, it's hard to be around you and not have it happen." Cas said, determinedly not looking at Dean. "You were the love of my life Dean. Sometimes I hate that I feel this way. Life would be easier."

"How so?" Dean asked. 

"Because I wouldn't be here feeling like there was always a part of me missing." Cas explained. "I don't even know if you feel that way too but I do."

“You’re not the only who feels like that Cas.” Dean said after a beat. “Do you mean that? About something missing?" Dean asked.

"Why would I lie to you? You said that night that you would probably never be here again. There's no point in being false." Cas said. In the distance Claire and Jack were passing the Lincoln memorial. Cas smiled wistfully at the pair of them. "Over the years I would think about what it would be like if they met."

"Cas...you left. I didn't want you to."

"You're right and I think about that nearly every day." Cas said, finally looking over at Dean. He was looking back at Cas with a distraught look in his green eyes. "I tried to banish all memories of you but with you here, after spending time with Claire, everything is coming back."

"I'm going to say something that I've wanted to say for a long time. I’m going to say it because who knows when we’ll be here again." Dean said, taking a breath before speaking again. Cas braced himself for whatever Dean would say, not too sure how else he could react. "I never stopped loving you, I need you to know that. I see you in Claire all the time. It’s like seeing a ghost. The stubbornness, the way she just stares at you like she can into your soul...she's just so you." 

"I have the same problem with Jack. He will say something and it will just hit me." Cas said as Dean’s words sunk in. “I...I never stopped loving you. I left but I still loved-”

“Winner!” Claire cried, racing over to Dean and Cas with a wide grin. Jack was seconds behind her, panting like crazy. “You owe me ice cream now.” Claire said joyfully to Jack. 

“Ugh, fine.” Jack said. 

“I guess this is the cue for ice cream.” Dean said, lowering his voice so only Cas could hear him. “We...we can talk about this later.” 

By the time they made it back to the house Dean was exhausted. They had traipsed to several tourist spots and all he wanted to do was have a long nap. He was definitely going to need a strong coffee before heading back on the road with a sullen Claire in tow. The four of them had only just walked through the door when Gabriel appeared. 

"Hey Dean-o, the mechanic looked over the car and it's fine. Turns the battery had been dis-" Gabriel stopped when he saw Claire frantically motioning for him to shut up. Dean rounded on his daughter.

"Claire?" He asked. “Any idea how the battery was disconnected on the car?”

“Haven’t a clue.” Claire said. Beside him, Dean heard Cas let out a snort. 

“What? What about this is funny?”

“She has the exact same tell as Jack when she’s lying. She scratches her ear.” Cas said with a fond smile towards Claire, who beamed back.

“Don’t smile at that.” Dean said exasperatedly to Claire before rounding on Gabriel. “It doesn’t take long to reconnect the battery, why didn’t you call Cas and tell him?”

“I...I…” Gabriel stammered before groaning. “Sorry kids. Jack and Claire gave me fifty bucks to keep you guys out as long as possible. Preferably so long that you couldn’t drive back tonight.”

“Uncle Gabriel!” The twins cried.  

“Ok enough.” Cas said. “You can go home.” He said pointing at Gabriel. “And you two can go upstairs to think about what you’ve done. Without your phones as well.” Cas said, holding out his hand for Claire and Jack’s phones. “Upstairs. Now.” He said in a firm voice. Both Jack and Claire groaned loudly before handing over their phones. Cas could hear them stomping up every step and into Jack’s room. 

“Ok...I’ll just...head out. Toodles!” Gabriel said, giving Dean a salute before hurrying out of the living room. Once they heard the door close, Dean sank onto the couch and huffed loudly. 

“I swear between Gabriel and our kids, my blood pressure has gone through the roof.” Dean said, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“I know just the thing to help.” Cas said, leaving Dean alone in the living room for several moments before returning.“I thought that we could both do with a drink.” Cas said, walking into the living room holding two glasses of red wine.

“After the past two days I could drink a bar dry.” Dean said, accepting the glass from Cas. “Thanks.”

“You know, I love our kids but they are little shits.” Cas said bluntly. 

“I know I can be blamed for Claire but Jack had you bringing him up. He should be an angel.” Dean said between sips of wine. 

“In my defence, he has also had Gabriel’s influence so really there was no hope.” Cas said with a sigh. The pair sat in comfortable silence for several minutes as they drank their wine. 

“You know, this isn't bad.” Dean said, holding out his glass. “What?” he asked when he saw Cas’ bemused expression. 

“This is actually the same wine we had at our wedding. I’d say I’m surprised you don’t remember but then again, this is the same wine that caused you to drunkenly scream sing ‘Rock You Like A Hurricane’.” Cas said with a small smile. “I...well I had a bottle and thought…”

“We could reminisce?” Dean asked. He looked back at his glass with a strange look of longing. 

“Are you ok?” Cas asked. 

“Huh, of yeah...fine…” Dean said but Cas knew better. There had been a time when he had known every single aspect of Dean. 

“You know, you don't have to be so gallant all the time Dean.” Cas said “You can tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Want me to be honest?” Dean asked. Cas nodded. “I’m thinking about how stupid I was for never coming after you. For splitting the twins up and not being married to you anymore.” Cas’ breath left his body as Dean placed his wine glass onto the coffee table. Time seemed to slow down as Dean lifted a hand to cup Cas’ cheek. He brought their foreheads together and let out a breath almost like a lament. “I miss you. I really miss you Cas.” Dean whispered. Cas pulled away for a moment to place his own glass on the table and turned back to Dean. “Say something.” Dean pleaded. 

“I miss you too.” Cas said. Dean smiled that beautiful Dean Winchester smile and brought their lips together. Cas melted into the kiss, one that was so different from the frantic kisses of the night before. Last night had been fueled by something primal but now, the only thing fueling Cas was the wave of so many memories. 

He was twenty one years old, stood next to his piece of shit car as a twenty three year old Dean grinned at him, promising that he could fix it for a great price. The two of them sitting in a dimly lit bar, Dean throwing back his head as he laughed at something Cas had said, slapping the table and finding it even more amusing that Cas didn’t even realise he was being funny. Dean kissing him for the first time and Cas knowing that he had found his home. Cas was twenty four years old, wrapped in Dean’s arms as they looked out across the vast ocean. Dean had stopped throwing up as he slowly found his sea legs. Cas saying that he was so happy and wasn’t sure how their trip to England could get any better. Dean slowly unwrapping his arms from Cas and looking nervous. Cas staring back with a confused expression, that expression turning to one of shock as Dean dropped down to one knee. Both of them standing with tears in their eyes as the captain pronounced them married. They were walking hand in hand as they made their way through Camden, Cas having to hold on tight so Dean wouldn’t try to get a tattoo. Dean dragging Cas to every single record store to hunt down albums they didn’t have.  

Cas standing in the kitchen as Dean came barreling into the room, picking Cas up easily and spinning him round as they discovered they were going to be parents.

Every single memory crashed over Cas as he deepened the kiss. Breathless but not caring because he had missed this so much. No screaming at each other over broken mugs. Just love. 

“Don’t leave in the morning.” Cas said pleadingly as they broke away. 

“Cas…”

“Just...stay...I don’t know how but we can work something out.” Cas said breathlessly. “Please Dean.”