#both transportation solutions are starting to feel pretty bad...

[hentairobot]

well. i'm going to be honest, it was pretty enjoyable, the whole running around fighting along the way between every destination for the first 30 hours but honestly i'm getting a bit fucking sick of it now.

[karimwillia]

ICU

You got a feeling, a soul, that I need in my life (yeah, yeah)

And though we may grow, I don't know why we don't grow apart.

Fluff

“Rihanna Williams what are you saying? Do you genuinely not see a future for us?” “Shuri Udaku of course I do, I have seen us married with a pretty little girl who shares features of us both somehow. I have seen us on missions together as Panther and IronHeart. But I have to think practically.” Shuri is quiet as she processes what Riri is saying that future sounds AMAZING to her but is she just dreaming? A few tears well up in her eyes. “Logic would state that this could not be sustained. But what does your heart say? Do you honestly want to end what we have? Think of us over this trip alone.”

*Flashback*

“Princess your transport to Wakanda has arrived on the roof.” “Thank you Griot!” Sharon is standing at the threshold of her lab. “Good lord you down bad sister. You only leave this house to see her.” Riri cuts her eyes at her sister like she wants to kill her. “Sha have you seen Shuri wouldn’t you?” Ri’s face wears a mischievous smirk. “It’s the middle of the night so I suppose but you run to Wakanda every few days now you never rest.” Riri pauses Shuri is her soul mate. So while the schedule maybe hectic this is the sacrifice she will make. Shuri would do this in a heartbeat for her so what is her sister’s point. As a matter of fact the apartment Sharon and Riri are in is property Shuri purchased to her last year. She also owns one in Cambridge. This is so they can come and go as they please.

“Sha what do you suggest we do? I love her so I’ll do anything to make this work. You think Shuri should start traveling or something.” “No I remember when she was doing that. I just think you are just not balanced right now.” “Sha maybe so but we are doing what we can for now.” Sharon just shakes her head and looks at her sister. “I get it I do but please just think about having a conversation with Shuri about it.”

Once in the aircraft Riri is greeted by two Dora who are honestly her royal detail. Since they have been dating she is afforded certain privileges. “Nkosazana we will have you home in 7 hours.” Riri solutes them. “Thank you both. Griot status on Panther?” “The Panther is currently traveling to schools in the border tribe to give talks to the local Scholars. She will be able to meet you at the palace when you arrive.” “Thank you Griot let’s go home.” Riri’s mind is all a buzz with project ideas and seeing her Love. In the deep part of her mind Sharon’s words echo. Is their relationship too hectic to maintain? Maybe she should voice concern to Shuri.

The scientist wipes the thoughts from her mind. She is content for now. Is she jet lagged and would like a more stable schedule she would but the conversation will be had when it’s time. To be honest she travels because she can’t stand being without Shuri for long periods. They collectively decided after 6 months that only seeing each other on holidays was not going to cut it. So Shuri would make weekend trips now it is Riri’s turn.

Riri does not want to dwell on this anymore and she continues her sketches on her ipad. The flight goes by faster leaving at night. “Princess we are home.” Hasani her Dora announces as the jet crosses the border. The view of the city through the front talon window never gets old. It is so great to be home is all Riri can think of now.

While unloading Aneka and Ayo meet Riri on the tarmac. “Nkosazana seems so long since we’ve seen you.” Ayo smiles wide looking at Riri who she has become very fond of over time in working with her. “My love it was just last week…” Aneka misses the sarcasm of Ayo’s statement causing her to chuckle. “Thank you General it has been ages. Is she inside?”

The ladies gave each other a knowing look and answer. “She is indeed waiting for you in quarters. But before you go see her. We are requesting your assistance. The Midnight Angels will go out at the end of this week for a mission and we would love to have the IronHeart with us.” Listening intently Riri agreed to the mission with a nod and requests that details be sent to her beads ASAP. “Ok I will be ready.” With that Ayo and Aneka leave thanking Riri.

Riri’s escort is taken over by her Dora and she rushes to Shuri’s side. Shuri has turned off Griot in quarters ever since one night when they wanted to be intimate everyone in the world wanted to stop by. The alarms drove them crazy. So Riri is able to sneak in and catch her Lover preparing the room for a romantic evening.

“I hear you Entle you forget my enhanced senses don’t you?” Shuri allows Riri to wrap her from behind in an embrace. Kissing the exposed skin of her back Riri feels Shuri react. “I can’t forget them if I tired. You use them so well.” Chuckling low in her stomach Shuri can’t help her heart rate spike. Riri just causes it naturally. “Is this for me?” The room is dim with candles that smell of jasmine lit all around, Shuri setup a small dinner for just them and there are message oils near the bed. “Yes you have been traveling back and fourth so I wanted to pamper you today. If that is alright.”

This is why they work. They have a sacrifice and reward, 50/50 relationship. “I can agree to this if you sleep in with me tomorrow. I will make you breakfast.” “Your negotiation skills are getting better. I can’t refuse that.” The two kiss and the feeling is intoxicating.

*end of flashback

Crying Riri is turned completely around unable to look at Shuri. Realizing that logic cannot be at play here. Whenever she is with Shuri it’s like she is breathing fresh air, she needs Shuri and it’s all consuming. She hates to admit that. She hates to admit that no matter where life takes them she wants to be or have the Queen by her side. It eats at her when they are apart. Shuri walks up and wraps Riri in her arms with a gentle embrace. Placing a kiss to the back of her neck Riri instantly relaxes.

“Sthandwa please calm down. I did not mean for the question I asked to be this upsetting.” “It’s not that I just…before I left home my sister and I where talking. She pointed out how outrageous our schedules are lately and while this is ok for now. How long can we do this flying back and fourth? The thoughts started to take over. I was ignoring them but you know how my mind works.”

Shuri turns her around and holds her close cupping her face. “I do indeed know how your mind works. But you wanted to ignore it? Why not talk to me?” Shuri’s face is soft with a small smile. “Because Baby we work and I will do anything to keep you in my life. So why rock the boat? Even if I’m tired of traveling I will do it from now to the end of time if it means I’m with you. I want to touch you and see you. Distance does not work for us and breaking up is…” Shuri is smiling bigger as Riri rants. Kissing her forehead Shuri was laughing to herself. “What is so funny? I’m not a joke Baby.”

“No no you are not. It’s just that same thought has been on my mind. So I just asked you how do you see our future to hopefully surprise you. I have come up with a solution.” Holding up keys in her hand Shuri speaks clearly her plan. “I have it planned to take a year working remotely in the Cambridge outreach center. As you finish your last year in school. From there we can talk about you moving to Wakanda to head the engineering sector of the development team here. Or we can go to Chicago for sometime if you like.”

Riri could not believe it are they really that in sync? Lacing their fingers Riri places her forehead on Shuri’s “How does a Queen take a year off?” “Simple a Queen who has a trusted co leader and a very competent army.” Riri laughs dispute the tears. “I love you yo you have no idea.” Shuri closes the short distance and kisses Ri. It’s sweet and quick but it says so much. “I hope it’s enough to have my daughter. I liked that part of your dream.” Shuri has now picked up the shorter women looking into her eyes. Ri smirks with Shuri’s face in her hands. “I will have 10 for you if you wanted. You can have whatever you want.” Her tone was low. Gripping her legs Shuri commands the locks on their door be engage.

@somethingcleaverandwhitty @shuriris-stuff

[hellhound5925]

Cyare Verd *Beloved Warrior* Bad Batch Edition

Previous Chapter

Metamorphosis

On our way back to Ord Mantell, Cid finally contacts us. The room is tense and a part of me is starting to wonder if we are getting close to the end of the road with Cid. "Not sure what's got you all twisted up in knots" she says to us. She's pulled up on a holoprojection and honestly by the way she's acting, it's like she was the one stranded without help. I lose my patience "Where do I begin? We were stranded on that planet Cid!" Omega expresses her frustration as well "We needed you, and you left us." "You're fine now, aren't you? And you got your ship back" Cid tries to make it seem like we are overreacting. "Tell that to the gash in my side....not that you actually care..." I mumble - still making sure it's loud enough for her to hear. "Do you wanna mope or make money?" She moves on confirming my statement.  "Because I've got a tip on a downed ship. Which means cargo ripe for the taking. I'll even give you 30% of the cut." "That's our standard percentage" Tech points out. Cid sighs "All right. This one time, let's say 35%." None of us say a word - we are all angry "Okay, 40." She's reading the room now...."Fine, 50% as a token of my goodwill, that you seem to have forgotten." My grip on the arms of my chair tighten. She continues "I'm sending you the intel now. Don't come back unless you scavenge something valuable." "What makes you think we'd come back at all?" Hunter sasses which catches me by surprise. Must be he finally is getting tired of her too. Cid gets annoyed and wags her finger "Don't test me, Bandana. Just get it done." With that she ends the link.

I stand up and start to pace, Hunter takes my spot and looks over Tech's datapad. "Severing ties with Cid could be problematic, considering what she knows about us. Perhaps we choose a diplomatic solution—"I interrupt Tech. "I'd be happy to show her how Mandalorian's solve things...diplomatically...." My words dripping with sarcasm. Tech gives me a look, "As I was saying....we complete this one last mission for her." Hunter looks up from the datapad "Cid only sent coordinates. No ship transponder code or indication of what caused it to crash." Wrecker huffs in annoyance "Limited intel. Huh, There's a surprise." "How hard could scavaging cargo be?" Omega asks. Hunter sighs and I shake my head "You had to ask..."

————

After showering and changing the bandage on my side to a bacta patch - which was exactly what I needed - I join Omega in one of the blaster domes. “There's a village here" She says looking out the large bubble like window. "That would explain how the wreckage was reported so quickly. The crashed vessel appears mostly intact. The cargo aboard should be in fair enough condition to transport" Tech tells us looking at the image on one of the screens.

Hunter lands us as close as he can - the fog is pretty thick on the surface. We head out and I flip through some settings on my HUD so I can see, the others are carrying flashlights. I catch up with Hunter, "How's your side?" He asks, tilting his buy'ce (Helmet) my direction. "Much better after being stitched up. Which I never thanked you for by the way - thank you. But I'll be honest though...I don't remember much after that from the other night." He shakes his head and laughs "You don't have to thank me. You were pretty out of it...I took you in to get some rest and you wouldn't let me leave." I tip my helmeted head toward the sky "Maker I hope I didn't say anything too weird..." He laughs again "Nothing I couldn't handle." "Great...I'm not sure that makes me feel any better." He seems to be enjoying this... "Are you going to tell me whatever it is that I said, you find so amusing?" "No." "Hunter......we both know I could kick your sheb (ass) if I wanted to." "But you won't" he says so coyly. "Wanna bet?" He stops and faces me "Go a head." I'm stuck in my place by the way he said that...it sends chills down my spine and I can feel goosebumps rising all over my arms. "That's what I thought" he says in a low husky tone before continuing walking. I stand there for a moment and the others pass not saying a word, likely knowing exactly what was going on. He knows exactly what he's doing to me....it's not fair....

We approach the ship, walking around the outside "What kind of ship is this?" Wrecker asks. Shining his light around the hull, Hunter sighs "Don't know. No hull markings." "Isn't that a little odd?" I add. Tech - doing his thing - chimes in "Based on the severity of the impact and the lack of communication signals, the crew aboard most likely perished." "We don't know for sure. They could be trapped inside. Come on" Omega says, heading for the door. Hunter and I stand on their side - blasters drawn. I nod to him and he hits the panel opening the door. We sweep the entrance before the others follow us inside.

Heading down once of the hallways, there's random items all over the place. "Where is everyone?" Omega asks, sounding uneasy. I hear Wrecker kick something behind me, he bends over and picks up of staff "Oh, Check it out. High-volt electrostaff!" Tech shines his flashlight on the walls revealing claw marks, "Something very unfortunate happened here." I run my fingers over the marks "Vor'e (thank you) Sherlock Holmes." Wrecker laughs and Tech looks as me confused. "You've never seen—?" The look in his eyes tells me he's running millions of calculations in his head but coming up empty handed. "Watch some holovids sometime please." Hunter brings us back on task "Whatever did this wasn't human." "I will get the power restored and check data logs on the bridge" Tech starts typing into this datapad. "By yourself?" I cock my head at Omega who almost looks scared. "Your concern is not warranted. I will be fine" he reassures her. I put a hand on her shoulder "Hey, everything will be okay, alright? We've got each others backs." She tucks herself behind me, with Wrecker behind her. We continue down the hall while Tech goes the other direction.

Wrecker opens a door for us at the end of the hall. Looking around, there are bacta tanks and other various medical equipment scatter around the room.  "Why is it so cold in here?"  Wrecker complains. "It...looks like... some kind of lab..." I get chills down my spine - and this time not the good ones."This medical equipment is Kaminoan" Omega tells us looking over one of the stations. "Huh. So what's it doing here?" Wrecker asks. She continues "It's their cloning technology, but this configuration is different than anything I saw in Tipoca City." "Hunter, I have a bad feeling about this..." I say turning to him. He opens comms, "Tech, find anything on the bridge?" "Still rerouting the reserve power. Stand by. The grid should be restored momentarily." While we wait, we continue to poke around.

Wrecker makes a disgusted noise which draws my attention. I head over to him and see his hand covered in some sticky slime. Checking out the wall he had touched I noticed something odd, "These are reinforced walls." Wrecker looks it over, "What were they keeping in here?" Hunter freezes which can't be a good sign "I don't know, but it's still on board." There's a growling sound that comes from somewhere in the room. Next thing I know, there's noise in the shadows in front of us. I push Omega behind me. A creature leans down into the light from Hunter's flashlight. It's chewing on what looks like a troopers arm. "Hunter, What is that?" Omega whispers. "Back away slowly" he orders while whispering. We all do as we were told but the creature is on to our movement. It drops down and starts to stalk towards us. Wrecker uses the staff he found to try to scare it - all it does it make it mad. The four of us open fire on it but it gets away.

Just then the power comes on and the creature runs past Wrecker, almost knocking him over. Hunter pulls out his comm "Tech, we've got a problem. Get off the ship, now!" The four of us run through the halls. "I suspect this is some type of research vessel" Tech informs us. "We know!" Wrecker yells. "And whatever they were researching just got loose!" Omega tells him. "And it's headed your way" Hunter informs him. He comes to a stop at the end of the hall - where the power banks are - with us behind him. The creature is in there and it looks like its absorbing the power. Wrecker voices his concern "Does that thing look different to you?" Tech must be on the other side, "Fascinating" he says almost under his breath. "It would be more fascinating if it wasn't trying to kill us!" I hiss in annoyance. Omega draws her bow and shoots at it. "Take cover" Tech orders us and we duck around the corner. There's an explosion. "Tech? Tech! Are you alright?" I comm him. "Yes, I am quite alright."

We exit the now gaping hole in the side of the ship. I start to scan the woods for the creature, Tech does the same "The creature appears to be headed in the direction of the village." Hunter turns to the group "We're the ones who let it out. We have to neutralize it before it hurts anyone." I nod in agreement, "But how? Our blasters are useless." "Given the fact the crew was most likely eaten by the creature, I doubt it is currently hungry—" Tech starts think out loud. "It ate the crew?" Omega backs into me scared. "Well that's reassuring" I sass, placing one of my arms over her. "How is that helping Tech?" Wrecker scolds him. "It ate the crew" Omega repeats wrapping both of her arms around mine. Hunter starts barking orders "Access the lab files, and find out what species we're dealing with and how to stop it." Omega hesitates "Mmm, I can help. I know my way around Kaminoan tech." He nods "Go. Wrecker, Raven, With me." The three of us race to the Marauder.

Hunter flies us low over the forest while Wrecker mans one of the guns and I run the scanner. "See anything?" Wrecker hollers. I see movement on the scanner "Zero, two, five." The gun makes noise like its locking on before Wrecker fires. We don't hear from him for a few minutes, Hunter and I exchange a look, "Did you get it?" he comms him. Wrecker sighs "Uhhh, No." "Haar'chak! (Damn it!) Wrecker let me back there...I'll get it." "I don't know what makes you think you can get it if I can't!" "I'm Mandalorian, Weapons are a part of my religion" I sass. "I still don't know how that helps!" We switch positions anyways and Hunter slowly patrols the woods.

After sometime Techs voice comes through our comms, "Hunter, the creature is the same species that attacked Coruscant during the war. You must not let it get near the power grid, or it will increase exponentially in size." As we approach the power grid the creature is now much larger than I recall. "Uhh Tech....too late." The creature swings it's tail at the Marauder, Hunter is just able to avoid it. I try shooting it but it's unaffected. "Stop it before it gets any larger" Hunter barks. "I'm trying!" I yell. "Told you it was harder than it looks!" Wrecker sasses. "Alright wise guy you do it!" We swap places again. I hear the scanner going crazy, racing over to check it I see ships in coming. "Uh guys....We've got ships on our tail!" Wreckers sighs "Where'd they come from?" "I see them. Hold on" Hunter tells us before violently maneuvering the Marauder. He comms the others "Tech, Omega, you've got Imperials inbound. Get out of there!" "On our way" Omega replies.

Wrecker takes out some of the Imperial ships, I watch the others take out the creature "They're not killing it..." "They're taking it" Wrecker finishes my thought. "Let's not be next." Tech comes through the comms again "Hunter, we are clear of the vessel and heading to the landing zone." "Copy that." Hunter drops us in low enough to grab them without landing. I open the ramp "Come on!" Tech and Omega jump on and I race back to the copilot seat. We all relax once we get into hyperspace.

Tech tells us about what he and Omega found "The crashed vessel was part of an Imperial cloning operation." "The Empire cloned the Zillo Beast?" Hunter asks. Now I'm lost, "Ni ceta (I'm sorry)....did you just say Zillo Beast? I thought they were extinct?" He turns to me "Turns out they're not." Tech continues "Yes and No. The directive came straight from the Supreme Chancellor before he became Emperor." "What's he want with it?" Wrecker asks. "The creature's genetic material has the potential to be weaponized in the hands of the right scientist." "Where were they taking the creature?" I think out loud. Tech shrugs "Unknown. The ship did not have a destination logged." He turns to Hunter, "Hunter, there is far more to this than we realized. From what I have gathered, I suspect the Empire did not destroy the cities on Kamino to end cloning. They merely wanted to control it." "Send the data to Echo and Rex. See what they can find out" he says before heading back to the pilots seat, I follow. "Hunter....this is getting bad....they'll be wondering who we are and looking for us...." He sighs, "I know..."

Next Chapter

[zoeykallus]

Hi :)

I'm just a totally mess on many ways because I've got a new apartment and it's the first with my boyfriend, first time moving together with someone.

So a reader moving together with the bad batch (or Fives and Rex, too) would feel so good against the stress and anxiety what came with it, too. If you could do that, that would be awesome :D

Aloha!

I'm so sorry! I know I'm really late with this! Hopefully, by now, the stress is over!

The Bad Batch/Rex/Fives x Reader HCs - Moving In

__________

Hunter

Moving in with him is actually relatively relaxed. Hunter thinks along with you, helps with the planning and logistics, he packs the suitcases and boxes with you, he is a team player and never leaves any of the tasks for you alone. And of course, he is a strong shoulder to lean on, in case you need to take a breather. His brothers are always willing to help too.

Even when things go wrong, he is adaptable, and has enough peace of mind to find a stress-free solution and calm you down if you get nervous.

There's no stress with decorating either, Hunter is adaptable and open to anything as long as you don't want everything pink and painted with flowers.

Take a deep breath, you can count on Hunter, he will catch you and unburden you, should things get too stressful for you. He may well carry a chair into the apartment/house first, so that you can sit down for a while and collect yourself before the real thing starts.

Echo

Your sweet man has everything under control, he is a great planner, and he's always at your side to calm you or give you a hand.

It's very likely that you won't get stressed at all, Echo is one of those people who seem to have everything under control even when everything goes wrong.

Apart from that, he has prepared food, snacks and drinks, refreshments for in between. His brothers are also there, of course, and all of them are helpful and kind. Crosshair may tease you a little now and then, but he only does that because he likes you and has accepted you into the "group".

Echo knows what to do, he has planned and researched everything in advance, he makes sure Wrecker doesn't make too much of a mess and doesn't spend all his time just eating snacks.

All in all, you can approach the matter relaxed, Echo has your back.

Wrecker

So that could get pretty messy. Wrecker wants to help you and not make it harder than it already is, but he needs a little guidance from you. He's a little overzealous and if you don't steer him a little bit, things might well get lost or not end up where they're supposed to.

But don't panic, Echo and Tech are quite willing to help with the planning. But no matter how chaotic Wrecker may be, he's your strong shoulder and has no problem with you bossing him around a bit. He knows it's important to you, and it's important to him, too.

He will patiently and lovingly tackle things with you. Wrecker is very much looking forward to living with you, in fact it has been his number one topic for a while, and he has been talking about nothing else for weeks now, getting on his brothers' nerves.

Don't worry, it may take a while, but you'll get it together.

Tech

He planned everything down to the smallest detail, when and how everything will be packed, the transport, the movers (his brothers). Tech plans, who has what tasks and how much time is needed for each step. This can be relieving, but also exhausting, depending on whether you want to give him full control. Because he will argue with you if you disagree, not at all aggressively, but stubborn.

"My method is more effective"

He doesn't mean to annoy you, and he doesn't mean it in a condescending way, not at all, it's just in his nature to think everything through and plan it out if you let him. Do both of you a favor, let him plan and do his thing, he knows what he is doing, and it is quite unlikely that anything will go wrong.

It could be that his brothers, especially Wrecker, will throw a wrench in his plans (not intentionally of course), but Tech is not easily rattled. He wants to impress you, so if you give him a free hand, he will try really hard to do everything to your satisfaction.

At the end of the day, you can sit back and relax. Praise him for his work, he will be immensely proud and at the same time melt under your words.

Crosshair

It took a while for you guys to agree on exactly when and where to move, but eventually you made a joint decision. Crosshair is actually quite adept at planning, you can give him some leeway on that, he won't let you down.

However, he doesn't have a lot of patience with your movers, his brothers. You'll have to keep mediating between him and the others, Crosshair doesn't mince words, especially he and Hunter often clash. The rest are not so easily impressed or upset by Crosshair's grumbling.

They behave a bit like little boys, but Echo helps you keep them in check. So in the meantime, the atmosphere is a little tense, but Crosshair is really trying hard to make sure everything runs as smoothly as possible.

Food is also planned in advance and hidden from Wrecker, so he doesn't eat it all before the others have eaten.

Fives

He's actually pretty smart, but also very messy. It may feel like everything is going haywire, but Five's charm lowers any stress level. As soon as he notices that you're getting anxious about something in the process of moving or even on the verge of panicking, you feel his strong hands on your shoulders, his deep soft voice whispering sweet words close to your ear.

Fives knows how to push your buttons, so you can breathe easy and trust him. Echo, Hardcase, Tup and Rex are also there. When in doubt, Rex is the voice of reason that gets the boys back on track so everything gets done. They all like to help, and they all like you, it's important to them that everything works out, not only out of brotherhood towards Fives but also out of friendship towards you.

So don't worry too much, things will get done, maybe not exactly as planned, but you can stay on schedule and in the end it will all be done. Look forward to sitting back with Fives in your first home together and enjoying his irresistible charm.

Rex

Actually, he wanted to hire professional movers, however, your joint budget after all other expenses for the move, no longer allowed it. Rex looks with concern at his helpers, some of his brothers, among others Fives who, however, goes to work with verve.

Echo has brought snacks and drinks and gives you a knowing pat on the back.

"Relax, the guys mean well, we're all here to help and when in doubt, a stern word from Rex usually helps get everyone back on track."

You smile and take a deep breath, thankful for each one of them. In the end, it's you who has to calm Rex down a bit and massage his, strong, broad, but tense shoulders. He wants everything to work out and go well. Moving in with you is exciting for him, and he wants to do everything right, especially for you.

He'll be completely exhausted after the move, as if he's been on a tough combat mission, but Rex will be as happy as he is tired. Of course not all the furniture is set up yet, that will come little by little. That's why you'll lie on a mattress on the floor, snuggled together and very soon, very tired but happy, you'll fall asleep.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

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@greaser-wolf

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@starwarsnerd111

[httpdabi]

Neighbor next door

Genre: Smut

Summary: your little dream of living alone finally came true, only to be destroyed by your hell of a loud neighbor.

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, mutual masturbation, creampie, cum play.

The feeling of happiness washed over you as you took the heavy box in your hands, almost dropping it on the ground. The day you’ve been waiting for so long finally arrived. After ages of waiting and calling different numbers that were displayed on every possible app you had installed for your apartment search, it was finally over. You finally found a fucking apartment for yourself, not having to share the two room apartment with your brother anymore.

All of your friends were telling you to check the newspapers, telling you that the chances of finding the apartment on internet are extremely small. They told you the same thing all over again, only to end up being ignored, for some unknown reason. You were simply too lazy to check the Newspapers, that was all.

Once you realized that the internet is crazy, that the competition is too big in there, and that there were way too many scammers asking for money first, saying they’ll send the keys of the apartment after they get their first check, only then you decided to check the Newspapers.

First time you called a number, you had the feeling that you already got an apartment, as the unknown person on the other line talked how everything is perfect, stating how you are the perfect person for it. The woman almost immediately hang up when you told her that you are a college student.

Second time you called, you didn’t have your hope’s up, nor did you think that the apartment was for you that much, since it was in the part of the city where only buses are driving. Sure, that ain’t a big problem, but since the subway’s were the main transport in the city, it would take you a bit longer to get to your Uni.

The woman on the other line was very comfortable to speak to, telling you about the one and half room apartment and about the location of it. Your brother Keigo listened carefully as you talked with the woman, immediately opening Google maps, searching for the address. You noticed his thumbs being up as you told her about yourself a bit.

The moment you hang up, Keigo told you that he’s having a good feeling about it. He noticed that you felt a bit unsure, so he told you about the location, explaining to you that there are many shops near, and that the bus stop is literally in front of the building. Once he added that the apartment is actually pretty close to him, you felt a bit relived.

The next day, you changed in something comfortable yet cute, before you made your way to see the apartment. The apartment wasn’t big, it had a small hallway that was leading to the living room. The small half room was somehow connected to the living room, only curtains were parting it away. You liked that the kitchen was a room for itself, since you didn’t want the smoke from all the cooking to take over the whole apartment. What you liked the most was the huge balcony and the huge windows of the living room, making the apartment so bright and comfy.

At the evening you and Keigo took a walk, waiting for the call and chitchatting about the same topic all over again. When she told you that you got it, both you and Keigo started jumping around happily, screaming around. The wait was finally over. Fucking finally.

,, When are they coming ? We have to pick up the couch in two hours’’ Keigo asked, placing one box in front of the door of your new home.

,,They should be here any minute’’ you exclaimed, unlocking the door of your new apartment. You and Keigo already worked hard on moving your stuff here. Usually he isn’t one to rush, but he knew how much you wanted to move in, so he gave his best to do it as fast as possible for you.

,, What’s up extras?’’ you heard Bakugo’s rough voice, as you took the box with your switch and Playstation. Izuku and Mina followed him, both excited to see your new apartment.

,, Finally’’ Keigo sighed, he was already a bit worried that they’ll be a bit late. They had to pick the vehicle first, before they pick up the couch. With five of you, all your boxes were in your apartment in less then 20 minutes.

Guys left shortly after, leaving you and Mina alone to drink coffee, and unbox your stuff. Your bed was already placed in the small room with some other stuff. Keigo worked hard to montage all the important things as your lowboard for TV, table, and everything else. Now the only thing missing was the couch, and little things that were waiting for you to unbox them.

,, I love it girl’’ Mina claimed happily, looking around your new apartment, as she placed small stuff all around it. The two of you wanted to finish everything up, before the boys arrive. So all of you could enjoy more of coffee, and have the first lunch in your apartment.

Hearing Bakugo’s loud complains, you opened the door immediately. Moving to the side, you watched the guys fight over the best way to fit the sofa thru the door. When they called you, 20 minutes ago, telling you that he sofa can’t fit in the vehicle, you turned into a whiny mess, trying to give them ideas that could work out.

Of course, they only joked around with you, since they knew how excited you are about this all.

,, I don’t see a problem. If the couch was too long and too big for the vehicle, Keigo could drive, while Bakugo and Izuku hold the edges of the couch up. You know what I mean?’’ Mina told you. You couldn’t stop the laugh, when you imagined Izuku and Bakugo standing in the vehicle, holding the heavy sofa, curling their body’s down to fit the sofa somehow. That would definitely end up being a huge mess, since Keigo ain’t the most careful driver.

Well, the idea ain’t bad. But luckily they were joking. If not, Mina’s idea would be the only solution for the problem.

That day, you spent all of your time with your brother and your friends. After cleaning everything up, all of you sat down and ate together, making your first day in your new apartment so warm and homey.

You told Mina that she should sleep over, but she wanted to give you some space, since it would be the first night in your new home.

With a cup of tea in your hands, you made your way out to the balcony. Placing one cigarette between your lips, you enjoyed the fresh air. The neighborhood looked so peaceful and quiet, unlike the one where you lived. You could hear sirens every now and then, car passing by loudly, drunk people everywhere, but not here.

Loud thud woke you up, making you twitch as a small wave of fear washed over your body. You took your phone, as you rubbed your eyes with your left hand, checking out what time it is. Calming down in less then a minute, when you realized that the loud noise what coming from your neighbor. You weren’t sure if the walls were that thin, since it felt like he was in your room.

Rolling your eyes, you placed your phone on the nightstand beside your bed, as you pushed your pillow over your head, muffing the noise that was coming from the apartment beside your own.

The next day, you decided to make some brownies for your new neighborhood. Since it was pretty late when you finished them, you decided that it will be best if you don’t bother anyone at that time. Brownies can wait till tomorrow, you thought to yourself as you turned your TV on.

That night you stayed up till around 1 AM, watching different movies on Netflix, and chatting with Mina. Everything was perfectly fine, until your neighbor next door decided that it was too quiet for his taste. Turning on the music, so loudly that you had the feeling the walls that kept your apartment apart will collapse anytime.

You tried to avoid the drama first week, keeping up with his shit. You tried to ignore the loud music, thuds and moans that were coming from his apartment every night, not wanting to be the neighbor that complains immediately after only moving in. But when you realized that he doesn’t really plan on keeping it low, you had to do something.

Eyes wide open, as the loud music irritated you, almost making you deaf, you thought to yourself what could be the best solution here ? Calling Keigo wasn’t an option, since it would be childish if you had him deal with your problems. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before you wore your oversized hoodie.

You slammed your hands against the door, hoping that the person will be able to hear it. It took you a while to realize that there’s no fucking way for them to hear your desperate knocks, since the music only got louder. Making your way to your apartment, you tried to hit the walls, hoping that the person living next to you will get the hint.

You tried to get some info when you gave your brownies to other neighbors. They told you that the person living next to you was a harmless college guy. They told you that he’s sometimes loud, but they didn’t have any problem with it, since his apartment is at the end of the hallway. After explaining the situation, you found out that the apartment you live in, was actually a big three room apartment.

You found out that the woman that was renting you the apartment, used to live with her ex husband in there and that after they divorced they couldn’t make a deal to who will the apartment belong, only to pay even more money and turn it into two separate apartments. That’s was the reason only you could hear the loud music and everything your neighbor was doing, since the walls that they made, were much thinner then the other ones.

Two weeks passed and you were already getting used to your new home. You were getting used to living alone, managing your time as you wish, and doing everything you want. It’s not that you didn’t have freedom with Keigo, but the lack of privacy was always there.

Placing the paper bags on the ground, you tried to grab your keys out of your pocket as nodded your head to the music coming from your Airpods. You were already exited for the evening you planned for yourself. Switch, wine, strawberries, face mask. Perfect.

A small push on your shoulder took you back to reality, as your right AirPod flew on the ground making the music stop. You immediately knew that it was your loud neighbor. Turning your body to the side, you eyed him out as you grabbed your airpod from the ground.

,, A simple sorry wouldn’t hurt’’ you spat, looking at his back. He wore a dark gray hoodie, with hood covering his head. The moment he turned around, you almost froze when his sapphire blue eyes locked with yours. His appearance made you feel uneasy a bit. Something about his tattooed face and his blue eyes was telling you that this wasn’t a good idea, and that you should probably just ignore him and get in your fucking apartment.

But the fact that you finally had a chance to tell him about how loud he actually is, made you stay there and act tough.

,, My sincere apologies’’ he said sarcastically, as he opened his door. You weren’t sure how to start the topic, everything you had in your head sounded just wrong and stupid, but when you noticed that he was about to get inside his apartment, you realized that you had to say something fast.

,, Wait’’ you hissed fast, making him stop and turn around again. Analyzing his face, you weren’t sure if he was simply annoyed or mad at you for wasting his time. A simple what came out of his mouth, as he watched you think of the best way to tell him that he is too loud.

,, I don’t want to bother you or anything, but can you maybe keep your music and everything else down at the night ?’’ you expressed your thoughts finally. He only answered with a small Sure, as he smirked and left you there on your own.

You didn’t do much, but you felt proud of yourself that you solved the problem on your own without including Keigo or anyone else in it. Feeling happy about it, you enjoyed your evening as you planned, texting Mina about the handsome and loud stranger and about what happened today.

Your happiness didn’t last long, once you heard now even louder sounds of music coming from his apartment. The fact that he didn’t take you serious was pissing you off, after all, it looked like he made fun of you with this gesture.

,, FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT’’ you screamed once Mina answered your call. The frustration that you kept to yourself last few weeks was going out finally.

,, fuck, he’s really loud’’ Mina admitted as she heard the music on the other line. She could understand why you were getting so mad. ,, In your place, I would seriously consider calling police’’ she added, as you screamed in response, throwing the closes item to you onto the wall.

,, I will kill him. I WILL FUCKING KILL THAT BASTARD ‘’ you yelled again, regretting your action as you saw the broken item on your floor. What you didn’t know was that your neighbor actually heard the hard slam against the wall, turning his music only a bit down, just enough to hear your screams and complainants.

The night ended up with you listening to loud moans coming from his apartment, your plans long ruined as you whined into your pillow, listening to some girl scream ,, Touya’’ all over again. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Two can play this game.

You knew that he was also a collage student, which meant that he will have to keep his shit down and study. You just had to wait for the perfect opportunity, to make him taste his own fucking medicine.

A whole week flew by, and the day you waited for patiently finally arrived. Instead of loud music, you could hear him reading loudly, probably studying. You called Bakugo immediately, telling him to pack his shit and come to your place as fast as possible. Of course Bakugo knew about your little plan, and he was so fucking up for it.

It took him 15 minutes to arrive, excited just as much as you are. Bakugo hugged you as he placed his bag on the floor in your hallway, taking some snacks out of it, you told him to buy on his way. Firstly, the two of you played the music as loud as possible on your Television. Both of you jumping around happily with bag of a chips in your hand, while he choked on the chocolate. You were glad that you had friends that were always up for some bullshit.

The two of you waited exactly for 3AM, to make the things even spicier for your neighbor Touya. Turning off the music, you went to your bed. You were sure that the small room, that was much bigger ages ago, was also his bedroom, since you could hear his bed moving while he fucked some whores out. You were more then sure that it had to be his bedroom too.

,, Start quietly, ok?’’ Bakugo commanded, and you just nodded your head as the two of you got a bit closer to the wall. You tried to moan, only to end up like a muffed laugh. Bakugo placed his hand over your mouth and told you to try again. Second try sounded much better, so after few of your so called moans, he decided it will be the best if he jumps in a bit.

,, You taste so good honey’’ Bakugo said loud and clear, making you squeeze your eyes shut, biting into his palm to muff your laughs. You could see that he was also giving his best not to laugh.

Your moans were getting more convincing after some time, while Bakugo was giving some silly praises every now and then making you almost choke as you tried to hold your laugh. But the moment he asked you if you are ready, loudly clapping his hands imitating the sound of skin clapping against skin, you had to move to the side to laugh almost too loud.

,,OH MY GOD, YESSSS’’ you screamed loudly, as you rushed back to him. The two of you were moaning and groaning like crazy jumping on the bad making as much noise as possible. When Bakugo placed his hands on your bad, moving it forcefully and hitting it against the wall, you had to cover your face with your pillow to muff your laughs. You couldn’t believe how much he was into this.

,, FUCK YESS’’ You moaned out, as Bakugo groaned near the wall. Sudden and loud knocks on your door, made the both of you stop.

,,Shit’’ you hissed as you hurried to the door, only to be stopped by Bakugo.

,, The fuck are you doing. Take off your pants’’ he whispered, reminding you that you were fully clothed and that you didn’t look like you had some good and wild sex at all. Bakugo was making your hair messy , as you were taking your pants off.

,, Coming’’ you screamed from your living room, as you spat on your fingers and tried to smudge your mascara bit, while Bakugo helped you wear your Bathrobe.

Once you opened the door, you found your neighbor standing there with his arms crossed, looking more then mad. The moment he had a good look of you, he couldn’t find his words for a good minute.

,, Can you keep it low a bit ? I’m trying to study’’ he said, his lazy eyes analyzing you.

,,Sure’’ you mumbled, smirk appearing on your face. Giving him exactly the same answer he gave to you when you asked him to be a bit quiet.

,, Honey who is it ?’’ you heard Bakugo ask loudly, as he appeared behind you only in his boxers. You had to bit on your lip, to hide the laugh that almost escaped your lips.

,,Nobody’’ you answered, as you tried to close the door, only to be stopped by your neighbors hand. Gasping, you opened the door again, acting as you were annoyed.

,, What ?’’ you hissed, acting the same way he did before.

,,Don’t piss me off doll’’ Touya spat, as he held your door open.

,, Listen here you piece of shit, I had to listen to your tasteless music, and moans for few weeks now. You aren’t the one that should complain.’’ You said, slamming the door in his face.

After that night he tired to make your life a living hell. With every small sound you made, he would start hitting loudly on the wall, giving you a sign to shut up. The music he used to play was long gone, only to be replaced by loud moans. At some point you found yourself spending the time in your apartment with airpods in your ears more often.

The war between the two was getting out of the hand and both of you knew that. There were some times when you thought about apologizing to him and trying to make some deal with him, but you simply couldn’t give him that satisfaction.

You weren’t loud as he was, but every time you realized that he was studying, you would turn the music on, loud enough to piss him off. Sure, that was nothing compared to his action, but you were glad if you could piss him off even a little bit.

Since the evening was nice, you decided to have dinner on your balcony. Taking one plate of spaghetti carbonara, you placed it on the table. Slowly eating, as you enjoyed the warm weather and the sunset.

,, Look who we have here’’ you heard a familiar voice, turning your head to the right, you saw your neighbor leaning on the wall, cigarette hanging down his lips.

,, Fuck off’’ you spat, as you took a bite of your food. Your balcony was connected to his, only small wall holding it apart. Details like that made it pretty obvious that this was one apartment before.

,,Eh, don’t be like that doll’’ he smirked, leaning slowly over the small wall. ,,Let’s talk this out’’ he added, making you gasp when he let the ashes of his cigarette fall on your balcony. The last thing you wanted to do with the handsome scumbag was talk, but one of you had to be mature enough and point everything wrong out, you stood up, shaking your head toward the direction of your door.

Unlocking the door, Touya got out of his apartment at the same time, with a hood covering his messy hair. He took his time scanning your apartment before he followed you out. Surprisingly the silence wasn’t uncomfortable as you expected. You ate your food, as he smoked his cigarette.

,, Ok, so.. Let’s find a solution to this’’ you said, finishing the last bite of your spaghetti. His sapphire blue eyes got a shade darker, or you at least imagined so.

,, Got any ideas, doll?’’ he asked, finishing his cigarette. Something about him was simply handsome, somehow you understood how he managed to get a new girl every other night under him. His appearance had something, there was something about him and you couldn’t put a finger on it.

,, Sure I do, when it comes to music, there is something called earphones in case you didn’t know ?!’’ you stated almost sarcastically, making him roll his eyes. ,, And when it comes to your hookups, maybe you can do it somewhere else ? I have a feeling like you are doing the nasty in my bed. The walls are really thin’’ you added, hoping he will understand you and consider your desperate ideas.

Touya called your name out, a small and short laugh escaping his mouth. ,, Well it’s true that our beds are separated by that thin wall, but you can’t be serious ‘’ he laughed.

,, Hey, fuck in your living room, keep it private’’ you hissed, taking one of your cigarettes and lighting it up. ,, After all, if you have some better idea, spit it out, I’m all ears’’ adding sarcastically, you inhaled the smoke of your cigarette.

,, Of course I have an idea. But you won’t like it’’ his voice was deep and husky, making you almost jump down the balcony.

,, Ok hear me out. You can help me out, milk my dick out and have your peace every night. It’s a win win situation’’ he said, waving his hands a little like he made such a good point, as you gasped loudly.

,, You are so disgusting’’ you gasped again, as you slapped his waving hand.

,, I’m just kidding, doll. Unless? ‘’ he laughed, repeating how he’s joking around.

The two of you ended up talking on your balcony longer then you expected, smoking cigarette after cigarette. You didn’t think of him as one hell of a chill guy. What you appreciated was that he promised that he won’t bring anyone in the next week, since you told him that you are having your finishing exams and that you’ll have to study a lot.

You weren’t sure if he’ll keep his promise, but you really hoped he will. After that evening your war somehow finished. Sure, his music was loud, but only on the daylight, keeping it short and that was something you could deal with. One day, he even ended up in your apartment helping you out, asking you different questions, helping you test your knowledge before your first exam.

The second exam wasn’t something you were worried about, since you were already more then prepared for it, and the grades you had in that specific subject were amazing in your opinion. Few times you caught yourself taking a small break, not being able to concentrate on your study session, since your neighbor decided to be a bit loud again.

Not so loud as before tho. You were thankful that he wasn’t fucking some girl again, since you knew very well that it would last much longer then his lonely jerking off. Sadly, even when his jerking off was getting long enough for you, and you couldn’t wait for him to finally cum, so that you could study again. Focusing on studying again, you started to repeat sentences loudly, trying to memorize the words, as your neighbor groaned quietly.

The next day you met him when you went down to check your post. You didn’t have the balls to look him directly in the eyes, feeling a little bit ashamed that you could hear something so private. Of course, you heard him have sex billion times now, but last night it was something different. At least for you.

,, How’s studying going doll?’’ he asked, as he checked his own post, taking one letter out of it. You forced yourself to reply, saying it’s going great and how you are pretty confident when it comes to that subject, eyes avoiding his.

That whole day you were just repeating what you already knew. Repeating every word all over again. Walking over the room, with a bag of chips in your left hand, and papers in your right hand. You really had enough of it, since it was already 10PM, and you were studying all day now.

Hopping on your bed, you threw the stupid paper on the floor, deciding it’s enough for the day. At that point you were sure you will get the best grade at tomorrows exam.

Pushing your arms up in the air, you stretched your body, yelping loudly once your elbow hit the wall. Your mom told you that instead of whining in pain, you should make a whish when you hit your elbow accidentally. Yet you never did that, either way it was such a sensitive spot or you hit it too hard, but you always end up screaming, yelping or whining in pain.

Where did she even get that stupid information?

,, Fucking shit’’ you cursed out loudly, slowly rubbing the pain away. Taking your phone, you sent few voice messages to Mina, saying how you ain’t in the mood for exam, but how you think that it will be good.

The two of you talked a bit, until now familiar moans got your attention. It wasn’t loud, in fact, they were really quiet, more like whispers, yet you could still hear them. In that moment you weren’t sure if you should go and hide in toilet, just to give your neighbor his privacy or simply stay in bed and wait till he finishes. It would be pretty weird if you sent another voice message to your best friend, while your neighbor is groaning in pleasure.

Closing your eyes, you decided simply to wait as you tried not to laugh at the weird situation you found yourself in. It was hard for you not to imagine him, as his groans were getting louder.

Touya knew very well that you were listening. He knew that you were in your bed, since he was shamelessly listening to you and your friend talk, sending those voice messages every other second. That was the point after all. Why not give you a little show, since you ain’t studying anyway. The muffed laughs coming from your apartment, made him smile, knowing that you are indeed listening to him fucking his own hand.

What turned him even more was the fact that the small laughs were long gone when he groaned louder. A small idea popped up while he stroked his hard dick. He smirked to himself, as he moaned out your name, loud enough for you to hear him. He could almost hear you gasp in shock, and that made him moan your name out even louder.

You placed your hand over your mouth once you heard that. You weren’t sure if he knew that you were listening or not, but it turned you on anyway. How could it not ? That dude was handsome as fuck, you like it or not. There was no need to deny it after all.

,,Fuck’’ you heard him hiss. That was fast, you thought to yourself, still not progressing the thought of him cumming all over his hand while thinking of you.

The loud knocking on your door made you jump, rushing to the door to open it. Your eyes widened when you saw Touya standing there with a huge smirk on his face. Wearing one simple black shirt, and light gray sweatpants. You weren’t even sure why were you surprised, but somehow you simply didn’t think of who could it be.

,,Dirty. Fucking. Girl.’’ He said, pointing every word out while he walked inside, inviting himself on his own while you just stood there in shock, mouth half opened.

At that point you didn’t even know what to say, all you did was followed him back inside, as he made himself comfortable on your bad. Legs down on the floor, as he leaned on the thin wall with his upper body. The erection in his sweatpants was almost screaming, and he didn’t try to hide it either, as you just stood there staring at him.

,, You know, I knew I had audience, but instead of only listening, I thought it would be more fun if you watch too ‘’ he said, shamelessly moving his hard dick to the side a bit.

,, You’ve got to be kidding me’’ you said, trying to act it out a bit, as you sat next to him on the end of your bed, rolling your eyes.

Instead of giving you a proper answer, Touya only raised his eyebrow at you, as he slowly rubbed his hard erection over his sweatpants and damn did that turn you on. A smirk formed on his lips when he saw your eyes widen at his sudden action. He leaned his head onto the wall, lazily looking at you as he rubbed his clothed dick.

,, What doll? Is this too much for you ?’’ he asked sarcastically. He could see that you were turned on by it. He wasn’t dumb.

,, No, it’s just-‘’ you tried to find a right word, way too focused on him.

,, What ? Am I not your type ? ‘’ He asked sarcastically again. He knew very well that he’s your type, he knew that you were attracted to him as much as he was attracted to you.

,, It’s not that.. It’s just –‘’

,, Then just enjoy it’’ a small push cut you off, making you lean on the wall next to him, giving you a perfect view of him. You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them together strongly, as you tried to cover yourself with your soft blanket a bit, since you knew that your shorts was too short, and one wrong move could expose your panties.

Satisfied with your obedience, he smirked widely as he slowly pushed his hips up, pulling his sweatpants just enough for his erection to jump out. You gasped loudly when you saw one Frenum and Prince Albert piercing.

,, That look’s painful’’ you admitted, eyes wide in shock. It was the first time in your life that you actually saw a pierced dick. Touya slowly shook his head, as he stroked his dick, eyes half closed as he analyzed your face.

,, Want to touch it ?’’ he lazily asked you, his voice too deep and raspy. You were unsure about it a bit, but still leaned down a little to touch it. Why would you hold yourself back, when the situation was already dirty enough? After all, you were too curious to let a chance like that slip out of your hands.

His dick twitched once he felt your small touch. Precum was already leaking out of his pinkish tip, making it easier for him to move his hand up and down. You tried to be careful, touching the piercings only a little, almost scared that you might hurt him. You had few piercings yourself, so you knew how the area could be sensitive, and even a small reckless touch can cause unexpected pain sometimes.

,, Come on. Don’t be scared’’ he mumbled, placing his hand over yours. You just sat a bit up, as you let him take the lead. Touya didn’t do it fast, he enjoyed your gentle and careful touches. He moved your hands slowly up to the tip, giving you the possibility to feel his piercings rub against your palm, together with his sticky and wet precum.

The sight of the erotic situation made you more then wet, and you found yourself wanting to lick his whole dick like a fucking lollipop. You wanted to feel his cold piercings on your tongue.

Touya moved his hips up a bit, enjoying the feeling of your small and warm hand around his veiny dick. He squeezed your hand a bit, giving you a sign to make your grip around his dick a bit stronger, as he moved your hand up and down at the pace he wanted. Rubbing the tip of his dick every second stroke.

Of course after you saw what he did, you followed his action, rubbing his tip with your thumb with every move you did. The feeling of his piercings in your palm and thumb were driving you crazy. Never in your life did you think that a fucking dick piercing can look that good.

Touya pulled the blanket down and you found yourself allowing him to do so, as he pulled your panties to the side and slowly traced his middle finger against your clit, while his right hand was still on top of yours leading you on.

,,So wet for me’’ he groaned, moving his finger in circles lazily. He liked to have things his way, fast, hard and rough. But not today, and not with you. There was something that made him enjoy this slow and lazy pace. After all he had enough of time to fuck you hard into the mattress until you scream his name.

Without a warning, he pushed two fingers inside you and your pussy accepted them almost gratefully, as you stopped your movements. Touya took that as opportunity, holding your hand strongly around his dick in one place, as he slowly started to move his hips up. The sight of him, literally fucking your hand while he moved his fingers in and out of you lazily, almost made you see the stars and the whole universe if possible.

He closed his eyes, ‘’fuck’’ and ‘’shit’’ escaping his lips as he fucked your hand now just a little bit faster. His grip over your hand got much stronger, as his dick started twitching. Once he opened his eyes, cum was all over your and his right hands, while his fingers were buried still deep in your core. Breathing deeply, he hissed once you lowered your body down, ignoring his fingers inside you and licking his dick. Making sure every drop of his cum is gone, and making sure your wish is fulfilled when you felt his cold piercings on your tongue.

Pulling his fingers out of you, he grabbed your arms and pushed you down your bed. Your sitting position was switched with laying one, as he had a good view of you before he took of his shirt and threw it on the floor. Hovering over you he took your shirt off , exposing your naked chest to himself. Not wasting any time, he started sucking and biting your neck, leaving fresh and purple bruises all over it, while his right hand lightly squeezed your left boob, making you arch your back wanting more of him.

Once you felt his lips on yours, you opened your mouth lightly letting his tongue in, as he pulled your shorts down, together with your panties. He didn’t want to waste any time anymore. He wanted to be inside you, he had to be inside you. He had to feel you around him.

The only thing that was in the way, were his sweatpants. Disappointed that he has to break the kiss, he pulled his sweatpants down, hating them in the moment for breaking his perfect moment with you. A smirk appeared on his lips once he saw you desperately waiting for him. Parting your legs apart, he hovered over you again, kissing you once more as he stroked his again hard dick.

You moaned into his mouth, when you felt him rub the tip over your slit. The feeling of his cold piercing and warm tip made you squeeze your eyes shut as you waited for him to enter you.

The slow and lazy pace he had all of the time was long gone, as he entered you in one move, giving you some time to adjust to his size before he started to move at rapid pace. Pinning both of your hands above your head, he pounded into you like a mad man, breathing loudly into your neck biting and sucking it every now and then.

The way your walls wrapped around his dick, made him think that your pussy was truly made for him, only him.

,, Fuck’’ he hissed once you squeezed your walls around him, commanding you to do it again. Of course you did it, as many times as you could, feeling his veiny dick and piercings even better. A loud moan escaped your lips once you felt him hit your g spot.

,, Oh, right here ?’’ he teased, stopping his moves. Giving you one sloppy kiss, he placed both of his palms on your hips, making sure you’ll stay still under him. He pulled his dick all the way out, only to slam it hard and deep as possible back, hitting the same spot again. Doing it all over again, you were going crazy from all the pleasure as you wrapped your arms and legs around him. With every sharp move you felt like you will cum every second.

,,Touya, so close’’ you moaned, as he repeated his move all over again. He didn’t care that he wasn’t fucking you fast and rough as he wanted to, all he cared was about that fucking spot, pulling out so slow and slamming back in with much more power.

,, Not yet doll’’

You could feel him smirk into your neck, as you whined loudly as the feeling of the orgasm went away from the sudden lack of moves. The two of you kissed slowly, as you tried to wiggle under him, bucking your hips up a bit trying to feel him more.

His hands found their way back to your hips, pressing you strongly into the mattress as he stopped your small and desperate movements. After good two minutes staying still inside you, he held your hips even stronger as he started fucking you again fast and hard trying to get deep as possible. Every move he made, made you bed slam against the wall. He wanted you to cum with him, he wanted to feel your walls squeeze strongly around his dick once he finishes.

You found yourself scratching his back, digging your nails into his bare flesh as he fucked you recklessly. At that point you were sure that both of you had more then enough marks over your body. You over your neck and hips, and he all over his back.

,, Cum for me’’ he groaned into your neck, fucking into you like there is no tomorrow.

,,Cum for me, doll’’ Touya repeated, his right hand leaving your bruised hip and rubbing your clit fast. You moaned loudly in pleasure, finally giving in as your orgasm hit you harder then ever. That was all Touya needed, once he felt you squeeze around him like that, with few sharp moves, his dick started twitching as he came deep inside of you. The both of you tried to catch your breath, as he moved his hips every now and then, trying to fuck his cum back into you, deep as possible.

,, You did so good’’ he praised, leaving soft kisses all over your jaw. ,, You did so well for me’’

Closing your eyes, you enjoyed his kisses and the feeling of his warm seed inside you. Once he pulled his dick out of you, he commanded you to spread your legs a little, positioning himself between your legs, as he pushed two fingers inside you. The feeling of his fingers pushing the cum back into your core was almost painful for you, but still, you found yourself letting him do as he pleased.

The view of his cum trying to leak out of you, made him hard again. He wanted to fuck you again, but he didn’t want to push it, you already looked done. You needed a break at least.

Wrapping his arm around you, he slowly kissed you on your cheek as he placed the two fingers in front of your lips, slowly slipping them inside of your mouth. You lazily sucked them, enjoying the taste of his cum, as he repeated how you’re such a good girl for him.

,, See, my solution ain’t that bad’’ he said, wrapping his arms around you, pushing you closer to his body.

,,Not at all’’ you laughed, feeling his erection against your leg. That didn’t surprise you at all, since you already knew that he could fuck around all night.

That night you lost the count of how many times you fucked, even tho you had your exam next day and after that night the war between the two of you was totally done. There wasn’t any need for him to bring anyone anymore, since he had such a good girl right beside himself.

The two of you started spending almost all of your time together, at that point the fucking wall that was between you was almost as useless. Every day, you would cook together, go grocery shopping together and what not. Even your friends and brother met him. The moment he met Bakugo again, you knew that they won’t really get along.

Keigo wasn’t very happy about it, but somehow he let it slip, accepting your relationship and giving his best to get along with Touya.

Now there was only one problem left.

,, TURN THE FUCKING MUSIC DOWN’’ you screamed, hitting the wall as hard as you could. Huge smile appearing over your lips as you heard him laugh. Music replaced with loud knocks on your door.

[madhyanas]

there can be no oceans

It's only when the Child needs a bath that Din realises his ship doesn't have one.

Read this on AO3!

Characters: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning(s): One mention of ‘spice’ as a drug. Set sometime soon after Chapter 4: Sanctuary. No spoilers for S2.

Notes: i! want! to write! more! character fics! so take this. thank you @pettyprocrastination for taking the time to read this beforehand <3

masterlist

———

The Crest wasn’t built for children.

Her walkways are narrow, interiors unpainted. Any room not taken up by essential utilities has long since been repurposed for weapons and munitions storage. There are no rounded corners, no softened edges; there is no baby-proofing to speak of. A capsule of robust, sturdy durasteel hurtling through the galaxy.

As reliable as she is, especially in the hands of Din’s capable piloting, the bare minimum the Crest offers to any inhabitants at all is an absence of jagged scrap metal jutting out to be slashed on. Which is as close to a miracle as he’s going to get, considering his ship’s survived being taken apart and stitched back together again.

Sometimes the visor’s sight catches on a slivered scar. The junction between the cockpit and ladder, the panel next to the hatch. He’ll look at it for a second, bumpy and gnarled, remembering the Crest’s shell scattered in pieces across desert rock. He’ll remember his ship, peeled to bits without mercy. Then he’ll brush his fingers over the soldered mark, and walk away.

But despite everything, the Crest is comfortable; Din can admit that her resilience, outlasting her age, is something he’s grown attached to. And when it comes to the very, very mundane, the kid seems to have pretty good instincts — doesn’t dangle over heights, doesn’t stick his hands into sockets and plug ports. His ship, in and of itself, doesn’t pose a threat to the little one. So long as he’s not left in the cockpit unsupervised.

It’s a minor weight off his shoulders that the kid’s content to amuse himself with that gear knob, occasionally gurgling commentary to Din — who has found “Is that so, kid?” to suffice as proof that he’s listening — and offering a satisfied, toothy grin. This is typically the point that Din feels his mouth pulling up into a crinkling smile, fond and proud.

It reminds him of something Omera told him in passing. Din hadn’t understood the phrase at the time, hadn’t ever needed to apply it in his day-to-day.

“You’re lucky,” she’d said knowingly. “He’s an easy baby.”

Thinking of mudhorns and mudjumpers and the kid’s inability to follow instructions, Din didn’t think it made much sense. He understands it now.

But, no — the Razor Crest, being a gunship and not a nanny droid, was not constructed for childcare. In all honesty, this hadn’t really occurred to Din beyond the obvious.

Until the kid needed a bath.

A bath that his ship does not have.

Din sighs, standing in the refresher doorway and staring at the slim sonic shower compartment. The Child waddles in curiously behind him, leaning on his boot with both arms hugging the ankle. He coos up at Din questioningly. There’s a slight twitch of his ears before he raises his arms. Two chubby fists clench and unclench repeatedly, a familiar demand.

Din promptly bends down to pick him up, angling him face forwards to stare at the offending compartment together.

“It’s a sonic shower,” Din explains. He frowns, wondering how to go about this. The kid smacks his lips idly. “Don’t think it’s meant for kids, buddy.”

Those wide, dark eyes suddenly turn to him with hope, but Din’s already shaking his head. “No.”

The kid blinks, multiple times. Din could swear the little monster’s batting his eyelashes. “No. You still need a bath, you’re not getting out of it that easy.”

In his arms, the kid deflates with a huff. His ears droop so quickly they bat against Din’s chest and quiet grumbles buzz through the cloth of his shirt.

It makes Din smile, part-amused and part-relieved. He’s never been very good at the whole ‘disciplinarian’ thing, especially not with a kid that can move things with his mind. It’s difficult to tell where to draw the line between kind and disapproving. He’s probably leaning more into the former.

“We’ll just have to… figure something out.”

He glances to the left. The sink is built into the wall, a nondescript metal bowl with a drain and tap. Din avoids looking at the mirror above. After so many years under the helmet, it doesn’t necessarily feel surreal. It’s simply odd to have visual confirmation of what he looks like.

The kid squirms in his arms, and Din blinks, slowly placing him back on the ground. He shuffles out of the ‘fresher quickly to whichever corner he’s chosen to play in today, his stuffy brown robe dragging slightly on the ground. Maybe that needs to be looked at.

Din looks back to the sink, figuring something out.

———

For all intents and purposes, the sonic shower is useful. Or perhaps that isn’t the right word, considering it just does what it’s supposed to.

It’s efficient, then. A way for Din to stay clean without worrying about the ship’s current water capacity. Whether it’s actually pleasant or not is another question, but one that’s never been important enough to be asked.

Now, though, Din thinks he’ll need to find a more permanent solution.

The sink in the ‘fresher has its own water supply, true. But it’s enough for Din to wash his hands and shave every few weeks at most. Since the New Republic started cracking down on smuggling circuits, the price of water transportation fit for hyperspace has spiked. A popular medium for diluted spice, apparently. So he’s careful with how much he uses up, wary of the ever-dwindling pile of credits to his name.

He kneels down next to the sink, craning his head to check behind a panel and exhaling sharply with the protesting ache of his neck. It’s a small slot for a liquid tanker, and Din soon realises it won’t be enough to fill a cup, much less the whole basin.

It won’t work.

———

This brings him to the next idea. Somewhat quickly, because the kid seems to have gotten into his head that no water means no bath. That’s probably bad handling on Din’s part.

There are sealed tanks of water stored in a hull compartment. Bulk-purchased and potable, for prolonged journeys and adverse conditions. Tanks that he’s loath to crack open when there’s water available elsewhere.

He lugs one into the fresher, and when he feels his lower back twinge with the effort, he makes sure to bear the brunt of the weight with his legs. Then his knees begin to strain. He sighs.

He passes by the kid on the way, sitting on the floor and gnawing on his metal ball with intense focus and adoration. He looks up at the sound of Din approaching, tilting his head sweetly at the tall canister.

Din takes it as a question, so he answers. “No idea, kid.”

When he does, finally, manage to shove the tank in the refresher and pour as much of it as he can into the sink’s water supply tube, the Child follows. His head turns from the half-empty tank, to Din, and back to the tank. As the ears swish with every movement, like palm leaves twitching and swaying in the breeze, Din watches the gears turn patiently. It’ll click.

Then the kid thwacks a hand on Din’s thigh, and very insistently garbles something with a firm nod. His approval is understood.

Din smiles. Lets it linger on his face, melt in his chest so warmly he can nearly ignore his aching joints. Gently, he places a hand on the little one’s head, rubbing the spot between his ears and eliciting a fond coo. “Thanks.”

———

That good mood doesn’t last very long when the kid realises, eventually, that bath time has arrived.

———

A tragic wail cuts through the Razor Crest.

From where he’s held over the ‘fresher sink, the kid screeches in Din’s hands, kicking his little legs in the air and keeping a vice grip on Din’s sleeves. Even the ears — those huge, petal bat-ears — are wiggling up and down in his efforts to escape.

“Hey,” Din says. He tries for stern, but it comes out mostly tired. “Hey. Stop that.”

The kid is either ignoring him, or just can’t hear it over the racket he’s making. He scrunches his eyes closed with newfound vigour and shrieks so loud it rings in Din’s ears. He winces.

The Crest’s refresher is built into a cramped corner of the hull. Fitted with a sonic shower, privy, sink and mirror, Din’s fairly certain there are graves dug bigger than this.

It’s never mattered before, since Din spends so little of his time in here anyway, but now he’s stuck in a broom closet — a metal one, with solid, echoing walls — with a screaming child.

Din sighs, with feeling. His headache, which hasn’t let up since the jump into hyperspace, throbs heavily behind his eyes and between his ears. For a second, he toys with the idea of turning off the helmet’s auditory sensors.

The kid had more or less been fine at first. From filling the sink to fetching the soap — a standard, unscented brand that Din only really stores for handwashing — to barely managing to tug his robe over those oversized ears. The kid had insisted on doing that last one himself, until he’d stumbled with the shift in centre of gravity and bowled himself over.

He’d been fine, until his stubby, clawed toes first dipped in the water.

It’s remarkable, Din realises as he looks down at the distraught child dangling from his hands. The kid hasn’t really cried for… for anything till now. At the most, Din just gets a dry, unamused look whenever he hasn’t followed the little overlord’s express wishes. Like eating wild frogs off the ground. Womp rat.

Hearing the repercussions now, it might not have been remarkable so much as just lucky. How does one so small have lungs so strong?

“All right,” Din calls. Trying to be gentle yet also heard over the noise at the same time is a challenge, so it comes out somewhat choked.

At his voice, the kid takes a breather. Literally, his round body heaves in Din’s hands, gasping for breath after his tantrum. Din eyes the tear tracks streaming from his wide, dark eyes, and his sniffling little nose. He can feel the kid’s ribcage pushing in and out rapidly beneath his fingers, stretchy like a balloon fitting in the palm of his hand. He hadn’t forgotten how tiny the kid is but — a lump settles in his throat at the reminder.

He feels his face fall. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, unsure of what he’s pleading for but feeling as if he’s wronged the Child anyway. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it would upset you so much.”

Whether it’s his tone or the words themselves, something brings the kid to peace. Though still hiccuping, his breathing evens out.

“That’s it,” Din encourages. “Deep breaths.”

He inhales, lifting his head and shoulders slightly with the movement to demonstrate, before lowering on the exhale.

The Child watches him for a moment, blinking wetly, before doing the same. His ears perk up and down with every breath. “That’s it,” Din repeats.

When he’s reasonably sure the Child won’t start bawling again, Din takes a second to rearrange the kid into sitting balanced on his forearm, facing him towards the mirror. With the other hand rubbing circles into the kid’s back, he addresses the reflection.

“Listen,” he starts seriously. The kid looks up, watching the helmet in the mirror’s shiny surface. “I get that you don’t like it. And I’m sorry I upset you. But you need a bath, so we have to figure something out.”

Din swallows, wondering how they’re going to do just that. The kid, in the meantime, clutches the shirt of Din’s sleeve in two grubby claws and starts chewing, not taking his eyes off the helmet for a second.

Just as he’s about to ask the kid to stop, or at least lay off a little so the fabric doesn’t tear, he gets an idea.

———

In the recent past, Din can’t really remember when things last went his way. So he’s almost confused when the third time really is the charm.

“That’s all it took, huh?”

The kid happily ignores him, watching the gear knob through the shallow, mildly-soaped water with fascination. He stares straight down, his ears sticking up like fresh reeds from a pond, enamoured with the sight of his favourite thing underwater. The concentration he uses to roll it around with both hands softens the corners of Din’s mouth.

You’d never guess the little womp rat was raising hell just minutes before.

Fetching the gear knob from outside was a last resort. He’d been grasping at straws, willing to take anything that would calm the kid down.

And it worked. Leading Din to scrub the bar of soap between his hands, trailing suds through the clouding water.

The temperature suits the kid just fine, apparently. With no way to heat the basin, Din had just… waited for it to get more or less lukewarm. Not ideal, not by a long shot. He’d clenched his jaw, uncomfortable and awkward in the face of yet another reminder that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Standing around doing nothing didn’t sit well with him. At one point he half-seriously considered getting the flamethrower out to speed things along.

But the Child, naturally, didn’t seem to mind. He now slaps his hands into his bird-bath pool with delight, relishing in the waves he can create. The pale, fuzzy hairs on that wrinkly head don’t so much as twitch, and Din has to wonder if the kid’s leathery skin has something to do with that tolerance.

A bubble wobbles into the air, fragile and translucent. A dark, watery gaze snaps to it immediately — the kind of precision only reserved for mudjumpers. The kid stills, and the gear knob is momentarily forgotten in favour of biting through the air to catch the floating parlour trick between sharp, pointy teeth.

Pop. Smack on the kid’s mouth. A light burst of soap residue sprays on the kid’s face, and the squeak of a sneeze he lets out pushes him an inch backwards in the basin.

Din can’t imagine how a thing could be that tiny.

“Nice job,” he offers quietly, because a successful hunt is something to be praised. He gives the kid’s face a once-over — with eyes so big, it’s impressive that the soap missed them entirely. The kid whines disagreeably; he evidently doesn’t care much for the flavour. His button nose wrinkles, and he bounces again with a cough.

Din chuckles. The sound rings in time with water sloshing over the lip of the sink.

“Maybe save the hunting for outside,” he advises, patting the kid on the back. The Child looks up at him mournfully, as if to agree, before returning to the gear knob resting by his foot. A new game is begun; shoving the metal ball so that it rolls halfway up the sink’s bowl before returning straight back, like magic. Every metallic scrape brings a new ripple of laughter.

He should be more mindful of how there’s more water on the floor than in the basin, now. But there are always more tanks in the brig.

In a series of excited, comprehensive babbles, the kid begins explaining the rules of his new game to Din, who listens closely. He interjects here and there to show the kid as much, but is otherwise just a spectator to the kid’s lecture.

Then for a moment, without thought, he looks up. Straight ahead, into the mirror. And he almost can’t recognise the sight.

It’s his helmet, obviously. Comforting; beskar gleaming as much as the day it was first given to him. Unchanged. Same height, same clothes.

But his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, baring inches of skin and several wiry scars. The front of his dark, woven shirt is darker still with the water lapping over the sink’s edge, a sodden patch forming over his abdomen. He feels some of it drip onto his boots and the floor. His hands are covered in suds, tenderly but thoroughly scrubbing the edge of one floppy green ear.

The kid, sitting satisfied and unaware with his cherished toy, makes the image look complete.

Din looks at the man in the mirror, giving his son a bath in the sink. He thinks that his image probably needed a reset anyway.

Then, with something caring and delicate fluttering in his chest, he moves on to the baby’s claws. He makes sure to scrub between the fingers.

———

[starshipsofstarlord]

World Revelations

@etherealsxnder​

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

 He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

 But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

 “What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

 Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

 “Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

 “I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

 “He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

 “We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

 “Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

 “What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

 Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

 “Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

 “(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

 “Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

 “Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

 Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

 “In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

 “We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

 Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

 “What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

 Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

 “Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

 The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

 And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

 “Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

 “I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

 Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

 But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

 “Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

 “First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

 “And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

 The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

 It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

 “I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

 “Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

 “Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

 The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

 “Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

  “But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

 Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

 The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

 “You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

 It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

 “I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

 They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

 “They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

 “Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

 “They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

 “Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

  “He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

 “I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

 (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

 But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

 He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

 But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

 “I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

 “Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

   The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

 (Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

 Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

 And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

 She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

 Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

 “No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

 “They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

   “Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

 The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

 “That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

 “I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

 The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

 On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

 Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

 “Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

 He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

 “No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

 “Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

 “Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

 “I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Seal the Deal

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 2658

Summary: A hunt gone bad leads to Dean’s death. While Sam looks for solutions in vain, you make an appointment with a crossroads demon. 

Notes: Here is the first part of the Deal series! This series is gonna be suuuuuuper dark, so fair warning to all of you. I’m really really proud of these three imagines, so I really hope you guys enjoy. As always, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Death, gore, mentions of Hell, plenty of guilt, sacrifice

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

Thursday 4:44 P.M. 

You messed up. You had been so sure, so ready to be the hero. Why wouldn’t you just listen to them?

Sam and Dean stood on either side of yo, guns raised and shoulders tense. Two pairs of black eyes glistened wickedly. They definitely weren’t vampires. 

“I think we owe the pretty one a thank you.” The one possessing the girl laughed. “Sam and Dean Winchester dropped at our feet like a good hunting dog.”

“What am I, hellhound food?” You snarked, readying your weapon. She just smiled. 

“You will be.” 

“Enough talk.” Dean stepped in front of you, his defensive boyfriend mode activated. 

The boys leapt into action, Sam taking the man on the right and Dean took the one on the girl with the mouth. You only had your knife, but luckily Dean had come prepared with an angel blade. She swung her arm forward, crashing a nearby table into both of you. You recovered quickly and lunged at her. The demon Sam was fighting grabbed you by your hair and prepared to slit your throat. 

“No!” Dean shouted, throwing the angel blade into the demon’s chest. 

That’s when a sick snap echoed through the room, making the rest of the world go silent. You turned around and felt everything inside of you shatter. The demon had her hands on either side of Dean’s face, his head turned in an unnatural way. His body fell, but you didn’t hear it hit the ground. You didn’t hear anything. Not Sam screaming out his brother’s name or the demon’s dying shriek when he ran it through. 

You didn’t realize you had moved until you were on the floor, checking Dean’s broken neck for a pulse. You watched the life fade out of his eyes, his green irises staring blankly at you. 

“Come on Dean, we have to go.” You whimpered, laying a hand on his cheek. 

“Dean…” Sam crouched down beside you. “No. No, Dean you can’t go like this.” He clutched his brother’s hand, letting out a painful, guttural cry. “Dean!”

-

10:27

Dean Winchester was dead. His body laid on the bed in front of you. This was real. And it was your fault. Sam was pacing back and forth, muttering something about calling Cas and looking for spells. 

“I’m so sorry, Sam.” You muttered. He stopped moving. 

“Everything is going to be okay.” He assured you, his eyes filled with desperate hope. “We’ll get him back.”

“This is my fault.” You wiped a tear with the back of your hand. “We went in unprepared because I didn’t listen to you. Dean dropped his guard because he was saving me.” 

“You can’t think like that.” He sat beside you, reaching out to comfort you, but you pulled away. “You’ll find all the ways to blame yourself, believe me, I know. But that isn’t going to help Dean.”

“He threw that blade without a second thought.” You mused, as if you hadn’t heard what he said. “He gave up his only weapon to stop me from getting hurt.” You finally tore your eyes away from Dean and looked at his younger brother. “Why would he do that?” Sam’s eyebrows drew together. 

“He loves you, Y/N.” He said softly. “Dean protects the people he cares about, no matter what it costs him. He sold his soul to save me all those years ago. It’s who he is.” You froze, letting his words sink in. 

“You’re right.” You sat up straighter, pulling your thoughts together. “Sitting here feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to bring him back.” But you knew what would. Sam nodded. 

“Cas has been M.I.A so far, but he might know what to do.” Sam looked at his brother with determination. “You should try and get some sleep. We’re going to need all of us at our best game to get him back.”

“When are you going to sleep?” You countered. Sam sighed, putting a hand on Dean’s arm. 

“When I figure out how I’m getting my brother back.” You huddled close to the younger Winchester. Laying your head on his shoulder, you tried to fight the exhaustion that was slowly taking over your limbs. Sam leaned into you, wrapping an arm  around your shoulders. “We’re going to get him back.” 

“We’re going to get him back.” You repeated. The world needed Dean alive. You needed him. Before you fell asleep, you looked at his face. You would give anything to see those green eyes again. Anything. 

-

Friday 3:23 A.M. 

“Y/N! Sam! Anybody!” Dean’s screams echoed in the dark. Fire ignited around him, illuminating the table he was strapped down to. A saw blade hung above him. “Not again. I can’t do this again. Sam! Y/N!” 

The saw’s shrill cry drowned out his painful pleas for help. It lowered ominously towards him. Dean’s blood splattered his screaming face as the saw cut into his rib cage. 

You woke up to darkness in a bed that was not your own. It took a moment to catch your breath and for your eyes to adjust. You were in Sam’s room. He must have carried you in here when you fell asleep. It was nicer than the couch and Dean was in the bed that you shared. Dean. The image of his chest splitting open burned itself into your head and you rushed into Sam’s bathroom. You threw up the little you had in your stomach before stumbling through the bunker to you and Dean’s room. 

He was just a still shadow in the dark. You collapsed next to the bed, hands clinging to his unharmed chest. Tears streamed down your face and your words came out as garbled sobs. 

“I’m going to get you out.” You swore. “It should be me. You’ve already suffered so much. It should be me.” You fell into a shaking, crying mess on the floor, a hand still desperately clutching his. You had to fix this. Dean wasn’t supposed to die. If you had just listened…

“Y/N?” Sam opened the door, letting light stream in the room. When you could see the body, you started screaming. You shrieked like you had lost your mind. Maybe you had. All you could see was Dean on the table being ripped apart. 

Sam grabbed you and lifted you up off of the floor. You fought him without thinking and he trapped you in his arms until you had calmed down enough to stand on your own. 

“We have to save him, Sam. We have to save him.”

“We will.” He put his hands on your shoulders. “We’re going to find Cas and we’re going to make a plan.” You shook your head. 

“No, no, Sam we don’t have time. We have to get him out. He’s been there too long already.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” 

“I saw him and-and-” You started hyperventilating and Sam put your amblings aside, chalking them up to panic and grief. He pulled you close again, keeping your face to his chest. Dean would know what to do. He stared at Dean’s body and did the one thing he could do. He prayed. 

-

2:07 P.M.

There was nothing Cas could do. Without his grace, he couldn’t even transport on his own, let alone raise someone from the dead. He felt so useless.

“We’ll find a way.” Sam refused to give up. If he had to go to the ends of the Earth, he would. It’s what Dean would have done for him. 

Sam was worried about you. You hadn’t said a word since last night and you wouldn’t leave the room. You barely even blinked when Cas arrived. He knew how much you loved his brother and he knew how much the guilt was gnawing at you. 

“Should I talk to her?” Cas asked. Sam shook his head. 

“Not yet.” He said somberly. “She’ll feel better once we have a plan.” 

“Sam,” Cas sighed, “I think we might need to start making other kinds of plans.”

“What?”

“I want Dean back as much as you do, but you know this isn’t what he would want.” Cas knew that someone had to be the voice of reason, even if he wanted nothing more than to bring Dean back to life. 

“What if it was me in that bed? Or Y/N? Or you?” Sam snapped, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Dean would not rest until we were alive again.” Cas’ face pleaded with him and Sam’s shoulders slumped. “But,” He took a breath, “if nothing works, and we’ve turned over every stone, looked at every spell… then we have to let him rest in peace. He’s earned that.”

You stood around the corner, your heart sinking with every word. He wasn’t at peace. Unless you did something, he would never be at peace. You crept back to the room, making sure not to make any noise. You carefully closed the door and lowered your voice so Sam and Cas wouldn’t hear. 

“Sam’s working hard to find a way to bring you back.” You leaned against the wall, watching Dean as if you were expecting him to respond. “But they’re not going to find anything. Life's just not that easy for us.” You paced forward, standing over him with a sad smile. One of your tears fell down onto his lips. 

“I know what I have to do. Trouble is, I know that you’re gonna hate me when you wake up.” You lifted his hand, holding it against your heart. “But that doesn’t matter. The world needs you, Dean. Sam needs you. I-” You choked back a sob. “I need you to come back, baby.” 

You knew that this was right. You just hoped you could be brave enough to do it.

-

11: 49 P.M.

It was a warm night, but you still felt an icy chill run down your spine as you stood at the crossroads. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester’s little pet.” Her red eyes glistened when she smiled. 

“You know why I’m here.” You snapped. You didn’t have time for witty demon banter. 

“Yeah, yeah, you want your boyfriend back because one of my black-eyed friends snapped that pretty neck.” She rolled her eyes. “What is it with you people and sacrificing yourselves all the time? Dean’s gone, sweet cheeks. Move on.”

“Can you do it or not?” You were half tempted to take an angel blade to her throat. 

“Dean’s a pretty big player. He’s already gotten out of hell once, not to mention all of the trouble he’s caused for us.” She started to circle you, her wicked grin making your skin crawl. 

“Look, if you can’t do it, can we just-” She clicked her tongue like she was scolding a child. 

“I didn’t say I couldn’t do it.” The demon stalked towards you. “But it’s going to take a lot of pulled strings and I don’t have ten years to wait around for your soul.”

“That’s fine.” You growled, stepping forward. You weren’t afraid of her. “Dean only got a year when he saved Sam.”

“Oh, I don’t have a year either.” You faltered for a moment. 

“How long will I have?” She seemed to be calculating in her head, counting off on her fingers. Her smile grew. 

“I can give you until Monday at midnight.” 

“What?” 

“Three days. 72 hours to spend getting freaky with Dean-o before I feed you to the dogs.” She laughed, watching your confidence fade. 

“Three days?”

“Do we have a bargain or not? I have other appointments, you know.” 

“You swear that you can bring him back? No tricks. Just Dean, him and his soul in one piece?” She held up her hand in a mock pledge. 

“Scout’s honor.” For a second you just stood there. Could you do this? You didn’t have a choice. “Come on, Y/N. You have to seal the deal.” 

The clock struck twelve, the sound of the bell snapping you out of your trance and restoring your courage. You yanked the demon forward, colliding your lips into hers. She pulled back, red eyes flashing with twisted delight. 

“Time starts now.” 

-

Saturday 12:32 A.M.

Sam finished lighting the last candle and inhaled the overpowering scents of artificial pine and apple cinnamon. It was nauseating, but it would hopefully help when the room started to smell. He turned to the body and sighed. Cas was right. They needed to do something. He heard the bunker door open and rushed out to the entry, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Where the hell have you been?” He demanded. You looked at him blankly. “Y/N, you can’t just run off in the middle of the night. I was worried that you had-” He didn’t even want to think about it. But you were here now and not at the bottom of a ditch, which was something to be grateful for. 

“I’m fine, Sam.” You tried to keep your hands from shaking by holding onto the railing as you went down the stairs. Sam noticed the dirt on your hands and the still determined look in your eyes. 

“Y/N,” his expression changed from angry to panicked. “Where were you?”

“Does somebody want to tell me why my room smells like an old woman’s car?” The voice echoed from down the hall. Sam’s eyes went wide and your heart started to race. As soon as Dean appeared in the doorway, you leaped into his arms. You took his face in your hands and kissed him like it was the first time. Confused, though pleased, by this greeting, Dean pulled away. 

“Dean,” Sam let out a sigh of relief and hugged his brother, momentarily forgetting your suspicious absence. 

“What the hell is going on?” Dean barked, eyes darting between his brother and his girlfriend. 

“What do you remember?” Sam asked. 

“I remember the demons and this neck cramp like you wouldn’t believe.” He thought for a moment, everything slowly coming back to him. “I was in this place. A home. My home. There were pictures on the mantle with me in them…” HIs gaze landed on you and he smiled lovingly. Your blood ran cold. No. “You were in them too. There were a few of me and Sammy, on hunting trips- but not our kind of hunting. Normal people hunting.” He stared off, like he was trying to go back. “Y/N, you came in holding this little boy with my chin and your smile.” He finally snapped out of it, remembering where he was. “Anyway, I heard this clock bell chime and I woke up surrounded by a whole Yankee candle store.”

“Dean…” Sam said softly. “I think you were… in Heaven.” 

“I don’t know, but it sure felt like it.” Dean sighed. He had seen the life he always wanted. A real life, a family, with you. 

You just stared, processing every word. Sam read your face and remember your unexplained absence. 

“Y/N, where did you go?” He spoke in that low voice that always came before he went off. 

“He’s back now, Sam.” You held your head up. You did the right thing. You did the right thing. Dean froze. 

“What is he talking about?”

“Y/N disappeared for four hours and then you suddenly came back to life.” 

“You wanted him back too, Sam!” You yelled. You did the right thing.

“Not like that!” Sam’s voice boomed and the room fell silent. HIs anger dissipated into dread. “We would have found something else.”

“Not in time.” Your eyes fell to the floor. Dean put his hands on either side of your face. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You looked up into those green eyes- the ones that you sold your soul to see again. You would never regret it. Dean watched your chin tremble, confirming his fears. “Baby…” You could see his heart break. “What did you do?”

-

Continue to 72 Hours

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto;

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624​; @halesandy​

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Knick Knack Paddy Whack (BAON)

Summary:  As far as Stretch is concerned, there's only one solution when you're addicted to thrift stores. Selling all the crap you bought so you can buy more!

Notes:  Stepping outside of the main storyline for a moment, we'll get back to the aftermath we're all expecting in a moment. 😁

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Domestic Fluff

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it here!

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Stretch was a bonafide thrift-a-holic, he honestly was, and he knew it. It was an important thing to know about yourself, really, because certain problems arose from bad case of oooh-shiny-itis.

Sure, one ceramic zombie hand thrusting up from the dresser to hold his rings and change was an awesome thing to behold, but an entire collection of zombie hands was a tough sell to the person you were living with, especially if that person was Edge. Not that he’d managed to find a collection of zombie hands and if he had, that thrift store would have been on the weekly check list, for sure. But the same premise applied to ‘zombie hand plus an entire horde of other bizarre ceramics surrounding it’.

Stretch wasn’t bitter about the limitations when it came to his collection, nah, he got it. There were certain things you couldn’t ask for from the person you love, and a house filled up with weird tchotchkes that looked like they belonged to the grandmother of the chainsaw massacre family was a step too far. Plus, asking Edge for more space would be unfair. He’d either agree because he didn’t want to tell Stretch no, or he’d say no and feel bad about it. Nah, the set of porcelain dragons playing instruments in a rock band he’d found wasn’t that important, not if it gave Edge a case of the guilts.

Problem was, Stretch really couldn’t resist sometimes. How was he supposed to turn away a wedding painting of Yoda and Kermit the frog? Or a coffee mug with a penguin orgy on it? He couldn’t, that’s how, but his allotted space was filling up in the house proper and soon he’d started to amass quite the collection in his lab, too. It was when the overflow expanded enough to start infringing on his erlenmeyer flasks that he decided he needed a new strategy. Science waited for no one and definitely not anything with the word ‘taxidermy’ included.

That’s when Stretch came up with the plan. Okay, it wasn’t a plan, exactly, more like a flash in the pants of brief inspiration, but hell, he’d been flying by on those his entire life, why stop now?

One of the places he frequented was an antique mall, which was a fancy way of saying one rung on the ladder above actual thrift store, except they rented stalls for people to sell their stuff, so maybe it was more like a glorified garage sale. People carted in their junk for other people to buy and the cashier up front handled all the transactions. Minimal time, minimal effort, that was exactly what he and his kitsch needed, so Stretch went ahead and rented a stall of his own.

The not-exactly-a-plan worked out pretty well. He could buy something at the thrift shop and proudly display it for a while around the house, and then when it came time to replace it with a new find, he’d add it to his stall and whatever money came from it, he donated to the local kid’s charity that the Antique Mall supported. That meant he got in his kicks and joy without looking like a prequel to a Hoarders episode and Edge only had to deal with the octopus tentacle ashtray for a few weeks.

Seriously, it was a win-win all the way around.

A few things did take up permanent residence, of course; he couldn’t give up his zombie hand. But so long as it wasn’t a clown, (clowns were disposed of by Edge immediately and with great prejudice), he was allowed things like his nested Matryoshka dolls of Nicolas Cages for a time.

About once a week he went down to add new things to his stall, mostly during the weekday hours when the buses were on the empty side and he could take up an extra seat with his box of additions. It wasn’t exactly a secret, Andy came along a few times to help, but he never really mentioned it to Edge. Not until today when Stretch realized he’d let things go a little too long and he had some extra boxes to haul down.

Better to take care of it while he was thinking about it, otherwise it tended to turn into an endless cycle of ‘oh, I should do that today’ and him forgetting, but aside from the extra lugging required, it was also Saturday and the bus would be loaded. Hitching a ride would be required, plus a little extra muscle, and his husband was his favorite source for both.

He found Edge in the kitchen, sitting at their temporary table with his laptop and yeah, it was Saturday, time to drag him away from whatever bullshit work he was doing. Stretch put on his best wheedling face and asked, “babe? can you give me a lift today?”

“Of course.” Edge didn’t look up, what a total waste of Stretch’s beguiling charms. His gloved fingertips were soft against the keyboard as he finished whatever he was typing before glancing up at Stretch, and maybe his schmoozing wasn’t entirely wasted; the way Edge closed the lid on his laptop spoke of a guilty conscious for working on his day off. “Where are we going?”

“downtown,” Stretch tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “i need to hit up my junk and disorderly shop.”

That got him a pause, “Your what?”

“heh, you’ll see.” Stretch curled a finger at Edge in a ‘come hither’ motion that his husband didn’t follow, only watched suspiciously. “c’mon, i need you to help me carry some stuff.”

“This ride is starting to sound less like transport and more like a chore.” But Edge followed him to the basement for the boxes, and, surprise surprise, his willingness to help went up a few notches from wary to eager when he figured out what Stretch was doing. Eh, couldn’t blame him. At the top of the pile was a plush frog with the top hat that played ‘hello my baby’ whenever you pushed on its foot, something Red did every single time he walked past it, plus anytime he’d felt like shortcutting in for a quick press. Time to let it damage the sanity of another family.

The boxes were tossed into the trunk of Edge’s car, frog and all, and soon they were on the road, heading downtown. Truth be told, Stretch wasn’t sure what Edge would make of the place. He tolerated thrift stores well enough, but the antique mall was a different kind of beast. An entire building of obscure collections cluttered together into eclectic displays that others were trying to barter and sell.

There were stalls filled with milk crates of old records, shelves and shelves of antique glassware and dishes. Some stalls had vintage clothing, feathery boas mixed in with disco pants and ruffled aprons. Old instruments, rusty farm equipment, strange kitchen gadgets that looked more dangerous than useful, this place had everything and then some.

Plus, the mall had a certain sort of smell, a musty, dusty scent verging on decay that settled into the sinuses and hung around for a while. Stretch thought it was the smell of a life well-lived and he kinda liked it; after years of thrifting, he associated it with finding treasures, but who knew if Edge felt the same. His tastes in smells (heh) ran more to clean and green, not old-timey funk. Could be it reminded him of shower mildew.

Whatever his opinion of the odors, Edge kept it to himself. He helped with the box carrying and checked out Stretch’s stall curiously but didn’t say much. Probably recognized the stuff on the shelves as having once been on a table or Stretch’s nightstand, until the glee wore off and it ended up gathering dust in the basement. He wandered off at some point, heading into the depths of the mall, and left Stretch to restock his meagre wares.

It took longer than he’d expected. Since he’d opened up his stall, not everything Stretch found thrifting found its way into the house proper anymore. Some of it he bought as a straight-to-video option and he was getting pretty good at finding interesting doodads at the thrifty places that might sell better here, location, location, location, that was the ticket.

Stretch always priced his junk reasonably, usually not much more than he’d paid for it. Wasn’t like he needed the money, and besides, Stretch knew himself pretty damn well, therapy did that to a guy. At the end of the day, he knew what this was really about; all an elaborate scheme to satisfy the inner packrat in his soul that struggled sometimes with giving things away.

Bartering had been built in him before he could say the word; in the Underground, he’d gotten damn good at getting deals for what he could scrounge at the dump. This was the same thing, really, just with slightly different stakes. Dinner wasn’t riding on his latest stash of dvds anymore, always a plus, and these days he could simply look at the empty shelves, content in the knowledge that his Smeagol cardboard cutout had found a new home.

Hey, therapy wasn’t the only way to work out a few kinks in your internal lines.

When the last box was emptied, Stretch wandered up to the front desk to give the lady who ran the front register his new inventory list. That was when he heard it.

There was an old piano up front with a sign on it that said, ‘Do not ‘play’ if you cannot play’. Most of the time it sat silently but someone up there was giving it a good try today. The notes were slower, with obvious hesitations as the player searched for the correct keys, but the song was one Stretch knew. Gently melancholy, a match to the cautious playing.

His curiosity piqued, Stretch wandered over to watch and he wasn’t entirely surprised to see Edge sitting on the piano bench, his attention on his hands as he slowly played. It was a tough choice between watching him play and simply listening to the song and Stretch found himself trying to do both. The uncertain skill in hands he knew so well as they coaxed the music free.

When the last note faded, a faint smattering of applause came from the different stalls around them. Stretch waited for it to end before sitting on the bench next to Edge.

Quietly, Stretch said, “i didn’t know you played.”

“I don’t,” Edge said. He smoothed a hand over the keys, not pressing down, simply touching them. “Not really. I can’t read music, but I know a song or two by rote. A friend of mine pushed me to memorize them.”

Welp, Stretch didn’t have to ask what friend, now did he. An old friend back in another world, and people weren’t replaceable even if they wore the same face. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to; Stretch understood in a way only a few people could, and he settled a hand on Edge’s leg, squeezing his knee gently.

“that was really good,” Stretch offered, “you have a good memory, babe.”

“Some of my memories are better than others,” Edge said. The words were more contemplative than sorrowful, and he didn’t look at Stretch, only touched the back of his hand briefly with his gloved fingertips. “You tend to feature in the best ones, love.”

He reached for the keys again and started to play. The song was more confident this time, bright and cheery, with only the occasional missed note. A handful of other people drifted over, some pausing to watch and some moving on, going about their day with a song to carry them along.

Stretch only tapped his toes and listened as Edge played, more than willing to let him go on until he was ready to stop. If Edge wanted to take a brief dive into the past, then the antique mall was a place for it, where memories and times past mingled with the present.

Besides, a new memory to take home was better than any knickknack.

-fin

Note:  The first song Edge was playing was 'Clair de Lune' by Debussy and the second was 'The Entertainer' by Scott Joplin. In case you were wondering. 😁

[wickedsingularity]

Can’t Sleep Without You [One-shot]

Fandom: Star Trek Pairings/characters: Jim Kirk x reader (but not really), Leonard McCoy, mention of Spock Words: 2359 Warnings: Use of medication, use of possible addictive medication, insomnia, nightmares, almost graphic description of a disturbing dream

Note: A somewhat self-indulgent story that I posted a little while ago, but had panic about after a few hours and then deleted. It felt too personal, too self-indulgent, amongst other things. I planned on giving it some time, and then rewrite it so it was less personal. I did give it time, but I haven't rewritten it, just edited. And now I'm giving it another go, hoping that I don't panic this time around and telling myself so fucking what if it's self-indulgent. And hopefully people enjoy it because I do like this story.

Summary: Having suffered from insomnia for a long time, Jim is the only thing that manages to calm me enough to function when it gets bad. But Jim is off on a mission...

"You look like something the cat dragged in, Commander."

"Thanks a lot, Doctor." I glared up at Leonard McCoy as he towered over me. Even if I couldn't stand the stuff, I was now on my third cup of coffee of the day. But I was also on my fourth day of barely any sleep, and I was desperate for something to keep me alert.

"Have you had trouble sleeping again?"

I downed the last of the coffee, cringing as the bitter liquid made its way down and sat the cup down on my empty lunch tray. I closed my eyes for a moment and grit my teeth, trying not to snap at the obvious question. "Looks that way."

The doctor sat down at the other side of the table and looked at me with worry, not even phased by my annoyance. "I've seen you getting worse the last few days, Commander. Why haven't you come to see me?"

"What you gave me three days ago made me wake up after four hours with a nightmare from hell. I'm still seeing ghosts in broad daylight."

He pursed his lips. "Please stop by the medbay at 2200 hours. We'll try something else."

I sighed, knowing that there was only one thing that would help, and it was not something our Chief Medical Officer could provide no matter how good he was. But I nodded. "Yes, doc." Then I pulled myself to my feet, grabbed the tray and went to put it back in the replicator for recycling.

For as long as I could remember, I'd had some form of insomnia. It hadn't been a problem when I was younger, I had been more energetic, more durable, not to mention more careless. But as I got older it got worse. Most of the time I managed to keep it under control, but sometimes it took on a life of its own. And when it did that, there was no medication, meditation or treatment that worked better than the captain of the ship, my boyfriend.

There was just something about Jim that calmed my mind like nothing else.

Funnily enough, insomnia was what brought us together. I had been wandering around the ship one night, after several nights of little sleep. Finding myself in the briefing room, I had sat down in the chair reserved for the captain, put my feet up on the table and gazed out at the streaking stars. After a few minutes of silence, the door had slid open and Captain Kirk had walked in. We were already on friendly terms, so I hadn't bothered taking my feet off the table or giving him the chair, even when he made a joke about it being his.

He'd been having trouble sleeping too, claiming his mind was running at warp 5 after an exhausting meeting in that very briefing room earlier in the day. He'd chosen to go back there in the hopes that it would clear his head.

We sat next to each other, him in the First Officer's chair and I kept occupying his, and chatted for a while. All the while we both seemed to gravitate more and more towards each other and I got sleepier at the same time, until I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder. He had gathered me up in his arms and ordered a site to site transport, dropped me off on my bed and pulled a blanket over me, before going back to his quarters, falling asleep as well. After that, our friendship had shifted and things escalated quickly from there.

Now though, he and Spock and several admirals were trying to work out a peace treaty between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. We had dropped them off on a colony near the Neutral Zone and had then gone off to survey a newborn nebula a couple of systems over. We weren't scheduled to go back for them for another two or three days, the trip itself took a whole day. And my body was kind enough to refuse to sleep properly without Jim now, no matter how much in control of the insomnia I was.

I made it through the day somehow, with at least two more disgusting cups of coffee. Thankfully, there was more than enough to do in Engineering that I decided to not leave once my shift was over, it was better to keep working than sitting in my quarters and feeling like I had been in the middle of a warp core breach. As soon as Jim and Spock came back, Starfleet wanted us to check out an uninhabited planet that a passing cargo ship had detected held large deposits of deuterium and our long-range sensors had detected too much atmospheric disturbance for transporting, so we had to adjust the shielding on several shuttlepods. I was barely conscious when I stumbled into the medbay at 2200 hours.

"Not looking any better, I see." Bones appeared out of nowhere and would have scared the daylights out of me if I hadn't been so sluggish.

"Your bedside manners are always so lovely."

He ushered me over to a biobed and pulled a tricorder from one of his pockets.

"There's no need to scan me. We both know what's wrong. Just give me what you think I need and I'll be off." I looked at the tricorder with annoyance.

He didn't answer but started scanning me anyway, so I sat there patiently, closing my tired eyes and listening to the whirring of the device. "It's a wonder they haven't found a cure for this yet, after 200 years of research," he muttered to himself.

I looked up at him and saw him analysing the results. "You've found a cure for some pretty serious viruses on your career, why don't you find the cure for this?" I argued.

"This isn't a virus, sweetheart."

"Still, I'm sure you're brilliant enough to find a solution." Bones always said that flattery would get you nowhere with him, but I found that more often than not, he enjoyed having his ego stroked. He was that good too.

He just huffed and went over to a cabinet. I saw him pull out a vial and fill up a hypospray. "I know you have tried this before and it didn't work so well. But that was a few years ago, it might work better for you now." I nodded and obediently bared my neck to him. One touch of the cold metal to my skin and it was done. "I want you to go straight to bed now. It should work quickly and you have to be in bed when it does."

"Yes, sir."

It did not work. Or, I did sleep through the night, but the dreams had me waking up more exhausted than if I hadn't slept at all. It had been worse than last time, the irrational, weird and disgusting dreams had just come at me, one after the other. I would honestly prefer good old-fashioned nightmares over this. I called Bones as soon as I had showered away the night and he was at my door by the time I had dressed.

"Sit down," he barked, the tricorder out and a deep furrow between his brows. "What happened?"

I told him all about the night, even gave him some snippets of the nasty dreams for emphasis, each one of them still crystal clear and disturbing in my mind. The way he cringed at some of it, told me just how disturbing they had been. It wasn't normal to dream that you're pooping out severed arms, after all. *

"This is very strange," he said after he was done scanning. "Barely any light or deep sleep at all. Dream sleep almost all night. I've heard about a few phenomena that cause a person to not have any dream sleep at all, but not nothing but dream sleep. You're not getting any more of this medication, and I'm making a note in your medical file."

I sighed, trying to think about what I could do to help myself that night. But Bones had suddenly gone very quiet. I looked up at him and there was a deep furrow between his brows, his eyes gazing down at the tricorder, but it looked like he was mentally lightyears away. "What's wrong, doc?"

He didn't react right away, but then he blinked and looked down at me. "There is something we can try, but it can be highly addictive if the dosage is off by even a fraction. Call Scotty and tell him you'll be a bit late. I need to take some blood for analysing."

All through that day, I felt a bit apprehensive about what Bones was planning on giving me later. And I missed Jim so much it ached. This was the worst it had been without him and it was also the longest we had gone without each other since we got together. I missed him because of his absence, of course. But in my sleep-deprived state, it felt a million times worse. It felt like there was a gaping, bleeding hole inside me where he should be. I needed him to calm my mind, to kiss me and tell me it's okay if I can't sleep, that I'll sleep when I'm ready and he would be there with me all the while. I needed him to breathe with me. I needed to feel him. He was able to relax me enough that I could function.

After working well past my shift again and forcing down too many cups of coffee, I forced back tears of exhaustion and desperation and went to the medbay, got the mysterious hypospray and went straight to bed.

Apart from the fact that I woke up every ten to fifteen minutes, this one worked a lot better. In the morning, I felt less like I had been hit with a meteor shower and more like I had just tumbled through a thick atmosphere without a spacesuit. Bones came to check up on me in engineering after lunch and I asked if I could get a higher dosage, hoping that maybe that would finally be what helped me sleep through the night. But he refused, he had given me as much as my body could handle without becoming addicted or suffering other nasty side effects. In defeat, I told him if I couldn't have a higher dosage, I didn't want it at all. Then I started counting the hours until Jim came home, and drank all the coffee I could stomach so I wouldn't feel like a zombie.

I was just starting to doze off. It was probably just an hour or so until my alarm, but I let sleep take me. I would take anything I could get. What felt like just a minute later though, the computer spoke to me.

"The time is 0630 hours. The time is 0630 hours."

"No no no," I moaned in annoyance, screwing my eyes shut to the illumination in the room becoming stronger. But then a pair of lips landed on my cheek.

"Forgot to turn that off," someone said.

I didn't process this right away, but in the back of my head I knew that voice and knew it was important, so I forced myself to open my eyes to the way too bright room. Jim was there next to me and judging by his one barely open eye, he had just woken up too. "Hi..."

My heart was beating wildly in my chest, the room seemed to be spinning a little, my vision getting blurry, but then he smiled with his eyes closed and started to clumsily kiss my cheek and jaw and everything cleared up.

"When did you come home?" I whispered.

Jim didn't answer but kept trying to kiss me, but he was struggling, he too seemed exhausted, not able to aim. "A while. Laid down minutes ago. Tired. Want lips."

I made a happy sound and rolled around to face him. He opened his eyes a fraction, revealing the brilliant blue I loved so much. His lips landed on my nose, then my cheek before finally finding my lips. The gaping aching hole inside me seemed to vanish. I moved closer, pressing my lips and my body to his and everything inside me seemed to settle down, mind was quiet, all tension washed away. When I needed air, I pulled back just enough so I could stare into his eyes and see every little shade of blue in them. "You're home."

"The time is 0635 hours. The time is 0635 hours."

"Home and tired." His breath washed over me when he spoke and I wanted to breathe nothing but him for the rest of my life.

"Ditto. Haven't slept since you left."

"I know, Bones told me. I'm so sorry, Supernova."

"'s okay. Just missed you." My voice broke, and all the frustrations from the past week made a few tears fall. Jim snuck one of his arms around my waist and I moved even closer, burying my face into his neck, breathing in the smell of stars and nebulas and galaxies. "How were the peace talks?" I asked between lazy kisses to the soft skin on the side of his neck.

Jim didn't reply right away. Instead, he kissed my hair, breathing it in for a moment. "Exhausting. I'll tell you all about it later."

"The time is 0640 hours. The time is 0640 hours."

"Have to get up," I mumbled against his skin, but my entire body felt like lead in Jim's arms.

"Computer, turn off the alarm." A gentle beep confirmed it was now turned off. Then Jim pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "Bones told me to tell you that he has declared you not fit for duty today and that he has ordered bed rest, and if you disobey his orders, he will not hesitate to have you strapped to a biobed with a force field."

I blinked. "But..."

"And your Captain concurs. He recommends you spend the day with him in bed and sleep." He was grinning at me. "He's been flying fancy admirals in a shuttle all night and is in need of some tender loving care from the love of his life."

I knew there were things I had to do in Engineering. It would take time and almost all the Engineering staff to get the shuttlepods ready in time for exploring the deuterium planet. But as I looked into Jim's eyes, I felt exhaustion all the way to my bone marrow, and there was no point arguing with that, or the Captain and the Chief Medical Officer. I teared up with relief and buried my face in Jim's neck again.

Jim settled down on his back and pulled me halfway on top of him. I swallowed down my emotions and rested my head on his shoulder, tangled my legs with his, and laid my arm across his stomach. Peace filled me and I barely had time to mumble love you before I was fast asleep.

Note: * Yes, I have actually dreamed that as a side effect of taking melatonin.

[self-loving-vampire]

Ultima VII: The Black Gate (1992)

Ultima 7 was pretty much my introduction to RPGs, and I could not have asked for a better pair of games to ignite a lifelong passion into that genre. There is a real reason why this is still considered one of the best RPGs ever made.

While Ultima 7 is often discussed as a singular entity, it is actually two separate full-length games with one expansion each. For this post I will focus on the first one, Ultima VII: The Black Gate, as well as its expansion: Forge of Virtue.

I recommend playing the game using Exult, which adds some quality of life features (such as a feeding hotkey and a “use all keys” hotkey) as well as the option to use higher quality audio packs, implement bug fixes, and change the font into something easier on the eyes.

Summary

The protagonist of the Ultima series is “the Avatar”, a blank slate isekai protagonist from our world who has previously travelled to the world of Britannia several times and saved it from many threats, also becoming the shining paragon of the virtues meant to guide its people.

In this game, you once again cross the portal to Britannia to save it from a new and mysterious extradimensional threat. As soon as you arrive, you immediately discover two things:

1- A violent ritualistic murder has just taken place.

2- There is suspicious new organization called “The Fellowship” gaining adherents throughout the land.

It is up to you to investigate these developments.

Freedom

In terms of freedom, the Black Gate has plenty overall but there are areas where it is not quite there.

Once you can manage to get the password to get out of the locked-down town of Trinsic you are free to go nearly anywhere in the game right away and have multiple means of transportation to accomplish this, such as moongates or ships.

And there are some very real rewards to exploring like this as well, such as various treasure caches and other interesting findings. 

The world is actually very small by modern standards, especially when settlements occupy so much of it, but both the towns and the wilderness areas are dense with content.

Notably, the game also allows you to perform various activities. From stealing to making a honest living by baking bread (which is something you can do thanks to how interactive the environment is) or gathering eggs at a farm.

Where it falls short is in terms of having multiple possible solutions for quests. Generally there is only one correct option for how to complete them.

That said, there is a bad ending you might be able to find in addition to the canonical good ending.

Character Creation/Customization

This is one of the big minuses of the game. While you can select your name and gender (and with Exult also have a wider selection of portraits) that is about it for character creation.

All characters will start with the same stats and there are no character classes. You can develop your stats through training and specialize through your choice of equipment, but by the end of the Forge of Virtue expansion you will have maxed stats and the best weapon in the game (a sword) regardless, and you will definitely need to cast a few spells to progress the main quest as well.

This can make every playthrough feel much like the last, as there isn’t that much of a way to vary how your character develops or what abilities they’ll end up having. You will always be a master of absolutely everything in the end unless you go out of your way to avoid doing the Forge of Virtue expansion.

Story/Setting

While the game is a bit too obvious and heavy-handed about its villains, there are still many interesting storylines in the game that deal with mature subjects that remain relevant today, such as cults, drug abuse, workplace exploitation, and xenophobia.

However, the setting as a whole is greater than any individual storyline taking place within. With the exception of most guards and bandits, every single NPC in the game is an individual with a name, schedule, living space, and defined personality. This was not the norm in 1992 and even today there’s not many games that really implement this well. The world is also very detailed in terms of things like the services available to you, the general interactivity of the game world, and the sheer amount of things that populate every corner of it.

The initial murder is not only a strong hook for investigation but also a shocking scene in its own right. The Guardian also proves to have a significant presence as a villain, using a mental link to remotely taunt you based on the context of what is happening. For example, if your companions die he may offer you some exaggerated, mocking pity.

Immersion

There is something very interesting and comfortable about just watching the various inhabitants of a town just go about their daily lives. They work during the day, eat at certain times (either at home or at one of the many taverns in the land), and sleep at night. They don’t just strangely repeat one single action during the day either, they may do things like open windows when the weather is nice or turn candles and streetlamps on at night.

In terms of immersion, Ultima 7 is my primary example of a game that does an excellent job of it even if there’s some weirdness going on with the setting. Even after having played so many more games throughout my life, only a few are on the same level as either part of Ultima 7 when it comes to immersion.

Gameplay

There are three broad aspects to the gameplay here that I want to discuss.

The first is combat. It is actually simple enough that you can call it almost entirely automatic. You simply enable combat mode by pressing C and your party will automatically go and fight nearby hostile enemies based on whatever combat orders you have selected for them (by default, attacking the closest enemy).

This is certainly better than having an outright bad or annoying combat system as the whole process is simple and painless, but I still wish there was more depth to it. Your stats, and especially your equipment, still play a role but other than things like pausing to use items or cast spells the whole process is very uninvolved.

I kind of wish there was more depth to it, but at least the other two areas of the gameplay are reasonably good.

The next aspect of gameplay is dialogue, which uses dialogue trees for the first time in the series. Previously, it required typing in keywords, which are retained but as dialogue options you can just click on rather than remember and type.

While the keywords are not really written as natural language most of the time (requiring some imagination to determine the specifics of your dialogue), the system is very easy to use regardless. It definitely lacks depth compared to something like Fallout: New Vegas, but so do most games.

The third and most notable thing is the way you interact with the world in general. It is both extremely simple and very immersive at the same time.

Ultima 7 is a game that can be played entirely with the mouse (though keyboard hotkeys make everything much more comfortable). You can right click a space to walk there, you can left click something to identify what it is, and you can use double left click to interact.

For example, double left click over an NPC to talk to them (or attack them, if combat mode is enabled), double left click a door to open it, double left click a loaf of bread to feed it to someone, and so on.

But there is more. By holding your click over an item and dragging it, you can move it. This has various applications beyond just being how you pick things up and add them to your inventory. For example, sometimes objects may be hidden beneath other objects, or objects may need to be placed in a specific location.

There are some downsides to this system. Particularly, the issue that keeping your inventory organized can be time-consuming when it has to be done by manually dragging objects around, and this can also make looting relatively slow.

Despite this, I think this kind of interaction system has a lot of potential. It just has some clunky aspects to be ironed out.

Aesthetics

Ultima 7 was very good-looking for its time, and although modern players will not be very impressed by how it looks or sounds, it still remains easily legible in a way that some other old games are not. That, and the ability to identify anything with just a left click, makes this a very easy game to make out at the very least.

Some of the music of this game is very distinctive too, and will likely stay with you after a full playthrough.

In terms of style, the Black Gate does have a bit of an identity while still having a very familiar medieval fantasy setting with things like trolls, animated skeletons, dragons, and liches. While there are aspects that help the setting distinguish itself a bit, they are relatively subtle.

If I had to describe the feeling of playing this, I’d call it “open and laid back”. While the main quest deals with a looming threat to the entire world, the game does not follow this overly closely at first, letting you deal with it at your own pace and without having your exploration options limited by the story.

In fact, when I was young I often just ignored that and went to live in a creepy ruin in the swamp.

(Don’t expect many pictures in these reviews, but have one of my “childhood home.”)

I’d say that Ultima 7′s second part (Serpent Isle) has a much stronger and also darker and more isolating atmosphere overall and that has a lot of appeal to me in particular, but the Black Gate is definitely more open and less linear, and I also appreciate that.

Accessibility

It pleases me to say that Ultima 7 remains extremely easy to pick up and play. Even setting up Exult is not complicated in the least.

The gameplay is intuitive and simple, the UI is minimal, stats are basic (and not even that important), and the combat is automatic. I expect that this is not only the easiest point of entry into the Ultima series as a whole but also likely even easier to get into than many modern RPGs!

It does have some aspects that may be a bit clunky, like all the inventory-related dragging, but it’s definitely not obscure or complicated even to someone who has not read the manual (though I’d still recommend doing that). I literally played this game as a tiny child who could barely read or understand English and still got really into it.

The one thing I’d like to point out is that the game uses a type of copy protection where at a couple of story points (including an extremely early one to leave the first town) you will be asked some questions that require using the manual and external map to answer. You can just google the answers for these.

Conclusion

As I write more of these reviews there will be many games that are interesting, but deeply flawed. Games that are worth trying out but maybe not finishing, as well as games that had interesting ideas but that I can’t entirely recommend due to serious problems that will easily put people off.

But I do not think the Black Gate is such a game. I can easily recommend it with no qualifiers despite the fact that it is almost 30 years old. This is really a game that all RPG fans should at the very least try for a few hours, and not only for its historical significance. It is genuinely a good game worthy of its praise.

I will review its sequel, Ultima VII Part 2: Serpent Isle, next.

[starryknight09]

One last good-bye

Febuwhump Day 15: “Run. Don’t look back”

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“Run.  Don’t look back.” Rhodey pushed him forward.  Peter stumbled, looking at the man in shock.

“Go!” Rhodey yelled.  This time Peter listened.  He knew he’d be useless in this fight.  And Rhodey could fly.  Peter couldn’t.  Sure, he could swing, but only when there was something to stick to, which didn’t exist in the middle of this rocky wasteland.

He took off, sprinting as fast as he could in the direction of the Quinjet, not looking back.  They’d wandered far enough away that the Quinjet was out of sight, so he hoped he was going in the right direction.

“Helping Dr. Strange will be fun, you thought.” He mumbled to himself as he ran.  “Yeah right.”

He could hear the repulsors firing from the War Machine armor but the sound was barely audible over the stampede of all those things running at them.  He wanted to glance back to make sure Rhodey was ok, but he knew he couldn’t chance it.  He didn’t need his super hearing to hear the creatures gaining on him.  Rhodey could take care of himself.  He was a big boy.  A louder bang sounded in between repulsor blasts.  Rhodey must be pulling out the bigger fire power.

Run. He thought to himself.  Don’t turn around.  Don’t turn around.

Why had they ever agreed to help Dr. Strange in the first place?  This was way beyond his pay grade.  Some other evil wizard was messing around with bad sorcery and now Peter was running from weird spooky undead creatures.

“Karen.” He gasped.  “Any luck with the comms?”

“I’m sorry Peter.  Something is still jamming my communication abilities.”  Damn.

They never should’ve split up.  Whose bright idea had that been anyway?  Right.  Sam’s.  Peter hadn’t known him before, but it seemed like the whole being Captain America thing had kind of gone to his head.

“The enemy creatures are gaining on you.” Karen warned.

“I’m aware!” He tried to run faster but he didn’t think it worked.  He knew it’d be bad news bears if any of these things bit him.  Dr. Strange had been clear enough about that.  His only consolation was that he was in the Ironspider suit, so if bullets couldn’t pierce it, he was pretty sure these ugly things teeth couldn’t.  But he wasn’t absolutely 100 percent sure.  Besides, the suit wouldn’t save him if was overrun by these things.  The sheer number of them would crush him.  Not a great way to go.

They were getting so close he could smell them and the pungent smell of rotting flesh and garbage made him want to gag.  

Must run faster.  Must run faster.

Finally, the Quinjet came into view.  Oh thank god.

“I recommend you increase your velocity.  At this current pace you will not reach the Quinjet before you’re overrun.” Karen informed him.

Shit.

“Help!” He screamed, hoping another group had returned to the Quinjet and would hear him.  “A little help!”

A growl sounded behind him.  Way too close.  He turned around.  And immediately regretted it.  Man, they were as ugly as they were stinky, and he only had about a thirty foot lead on them.

This was not good.  This was so not good.

In the split second he glanced backward, he tripped.  He flew through the air before crashing to the ground and rolling across the rock laden dirt terrain.

I’m going to die.  This is how Spiderman goes?  Really?  He thought as he tumbled.

The instant he stopped, he rocketed back to his feet and started running again, even though he knew it was pointless.  Those things were right behind him.  He didn’t want to turn around and look.  He didn’t want to know when death would be coming.

But then from one second to the next, he had an idea.  He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before.  Sure, he didn’t have firepower and he couldn’t fight these things hand to hand, but he still had his webs.  Just because they couldn’t swing him anywhere didn’t mean they were useless.  He spun back around, trying not panic at the fact that the creatures were only like ten feet away as he shot his webs out across the entire line of them, sticking them together.

They fell and that caused their comrades behind them to trip over them and fall as well like a line of dominos.  It wasn’t a definitive solution, but it’d bought him some time.  The Quinjet was getting closer, and now he could see people running down the ramp toward him.  Sam and Bucky.  Wanda and Clint.  Scott and Professor Hulk.  Dr. Strange.

He wasn’t going to die after all!

And then the other wizard guy showed up.

Ok.  Maybe he’d spoke too soon…

Dr. Strange glided through the air to meet the other wizard guy in a collision of colors.  Peter thought his gold sparkle transporting rings looked cool, but whatever spell he’d just cast put them to shame.  Multicolored glitter sparkles fell from the sky like rain, landing on his skin but not hurting him.  They rested there for a few seconds before fading away.  A moment later he realized the noise behind him had greatly decreased.  He risked a quick glance backward and gaped.  Any creature touched by the glitter stuff started gradually fading away until they disappeared altogether.

It took him another few strides to realize he didn’t need to run anymore.  Nothing was chasing him.  Dr. Strange had eradicated the entire undead creature herd with one spell.  Wow.  There was definitely something to be said about the magic or mystical arts or whatever the man called it.

“Kid?  You ok?” Sam asked, reaching him a few seconds after he’d stopped.  The man clapped a hand on his shoulder and looked him up and down.

“Yeah.” He answered as he tried to catch his breath.  “I’m good.  So…now what do we do?”

Sam glanced up at Strange fighting the other wizard guy, the two of them periodically clashing in the air as they both fired colorful spells.  If it’d been dark out Peter could’ve almost made believe he was watching fireworks.

“Hell if I know.” Sam admitted.  “I draw the line at street magicians.  This wizard shit is beyond me.”

Peter huffed out a laugh.

“Hey, where’s Rhodey?” He hadn’t seen the man since he’d ran and hoped he was ok.  He couldn’t imagine the man hadn’t gotten away with the War Machine armor.  He took a few steps back in the direction he’d came, searching the horizon.

“Don’t worry.  He’s right there.  See?” Sam pointed up in the sky where Rhodey was flying toward them.

Right.  He didn’t know how he’d missed him.  His heart rate slowed.  Mr. Stark’s best friend was fine.  Peter hadn’t been able to save his mentor, but he wasn’t going to let anything happen to his family, not if he could help it.  And Rhodey was definitely part of Mr. Stark’s family.

“Watch out!” Sam yelled, but the warning came too late.  He’d been so focused on Rhodey he hadn’t been paying close enough attention to the wizards battling.  His spidey sense flared in warning, but too late.  He tried to dive out of the way, but the range of the spell’s blast heading toward him was too large to evade.  The globe of red light enveloped him, and everything went black.

Peter’s eyes snapped open and he sat up before he was even fully awake, the adrenaline from the battle still churning through him.  He’d been hit.  Where was he hit?  He ran his hands over the front of his body and looked down at it, but he didn’t see any blood.  And nothing hurt.  But…wait.  What?  Why wasn’t he wearing his Spiderman suit?

“Ok.  What the hell.” He mumbled to himself, holding his hands up in front of his face as if they could tell him.  But they were bare.  And he had on jeans ith one of his science pun t-shirts, which was the outfit he’d been wearing before he’d put on the Ironspider suit earlier.  Weird.  Last he’d checked he’d left his clothes in the Quinjet.  Maybe someone had changed him out of his suit and into his clothes?  He frowned.  That made no sense.  

Where was the Quinjet anyway?  Everything was a lot quieter.  He glanced around, taking in his new surroundings, and his face slackened in shock.  Because he definitely wasn’t in the barren rocky wasteland where they’d been fighting that wizard.  In fact, his surroundings didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen before.  Was he even on Earth?

“Oh shit.  Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” He muttered.

The ground he sat on looked like water, but its surface was solid.  He slapped his palms down and watched as ripples expanded outward from them, like what would happen if you dropped a stone into water.  But he wasn’t wet or sinking.  Ok.  This was officially freaky weird.

“Where am I?” He whispered and stood, doing a full circle to try to orient himself.  It didn’t help.  Everything looked the same.  The weird blackish blue ground he stood on stretched out as far as the eye could see.  No other pieces of landscape pierced it.  The line of the horizon was only perceptible because the blue of the air was just a shade lighter than the ground.  The whole aesthetic was dizzying and kind of trippy.

And then he looked up.

“Holy shit.” His heart leapt into his throat.  The sky was a dark expanse of stars and galaxies.  And he could see a few large planets that looked almost close enough to touch.  It was terrifyingly beautiful.  He reached out and tried to poke at one of the closer ones, a red giant with rings.  It was too far away to actually touch, but the spot where his finger poked made the air ripple out in the same way it had on the ground, like the atmosphere was composed of gelatin that jiggled when touched.

“What the hell...” He definitely wasn’t on Earth.  What kind of spell had he been hit with?  Had he been transported somewhere?  Banished?  Was it reversible?

“Underoos.” Came a voice from behind him.

Peter stiffened.  He hadn’t heard that voice in months.  The last time had been on a rubble strewn battlefield, fighting for his life, and the life of the entire universe.  Terror gripped him.  He was afraid to turn around, and at the same time, he’d never wanted to do anything more in his whole life.  He turned.  And there he was.  Mr. Stark.  Standing there without a care in the world, hands in his pockets with sunglasses on and a characteristic grin on his face.

“Mr. Stark.” He whispered, unable to believe his eyes.

“Hey kid.” The man’s eyes softened as he took him in.

Peter just stared, brain unable to comprehend that this could possibly be real.  He didn’t know what to say.  He’d imagined so many times what he’d say if he ever saw Mr. Stark again, but now he could barely make his mouth move to form words.

“But—  How—” He stammered, not even sure what he was trying to ask, and then a thought struck him and his eyes widened as he asked, “Am I dead?”

“No.” Mr. Stark reassured him then clarified, “Well, not technically.”

“What does that mean?  Not technically dead?  So, am I not technically alive either?” His tone got higher pitched even as he tried not to panic.  He knew there were more important things to talk to Mr. Stark about, but he couldn’t think about anything else until he knew what was happening to him.

“You’re in the in between.” Mr. Stark explained.

He frowned.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” The man said, face showing his disapproval.  And Peter couldn’t help the small smile that cracked across his face.  He’d missed those looks from Mr. Stark.

“Then how do I go back?” He asked.

Mr. Stark shook his head.  “There’s nothing you can do.  We just have to wait.”

Not the most comforting answer.  “But if I’m in the uh in between, how are you here?”

“It’s too complicated to explain, but let’s just say I’m here to keep you company.” Mr. Stark smiled again.

And Peter finally let himself enjoy the fact that he was standing there with Mr. Stark.  Something he’d wished for more than anything.  He wasn’t going to waste it even if his own fate was uncertain.  In the next second, he crossed the distance between them and threw his arms around the man.  He was substantial.  Whole.  Mr. Stark wrapped his arms around him and hugged him right back.

Tears welled in his eyes, and he didn’t know how that was even possible, just like he didn’t know how he could hug his mentor since supposedly neither of them had bodies right now, but it was happening all the same.  

“I missed you.” Peter whispered into the man’s neck.

Mr. Stark brought a hand up to the back of his head and tangled it in his hair.  “I missed you too kid.”

Peter didn’t know how long they stood there hugging.  Not that it mattered.  Time didn’t exist in this place.  He didn’t know how he knew that, but he did.

And Tony didn’t say anything.  And he didn’t pull away.  He just kept holding him.  For as long as Peter wanted.

Peter tried to soak it all in and memorize every detail of the moment.  The smell of Mr. Stark’s aftershave, the scratch of his beard, the warmth of his embrace, how absolutely protected and safe he felt.  He tucked away every sensation and feeling so when he needed to in the future, he could close his eyes and recall it.  Because he knew he’d never get another chance at this.  

“It’s not fair.” The words came out before he’d even decided to say them.

“I know.” Tony agreed.

“I wish you could come back with me.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Do you…do you regret it?” He whispered his question.  One of the things he’d always wondered.

“No.” Tony answered without hesitation.

“Why?”

“Because there was no other way.”

That was true enough.  Dr. Strange had told Peter something similar.  If Mr. Stark hadn’t snapped, they would’ve lost and everyone would’ve died.

“But do you regret inventing time travel?  You could’ve lived a full life with Pepper and Morgan.” Peter had always felt like he’d been partially responsible for taking that away from him.  The way everyone had told the story, he’d been the catalyst for Mr. Stark inventing time travel.  And now he got to have this time with Mr. Stark when Morgan or Pepper never would, and that made him feel even more guilty.

“No I couldn’t have.” The man said pulling away so he could cup Peter’s face in his hands.  “Because I didn’t have you.”

The tears in Peter’s eyes slid silently down his cheeks.  “I wish you wouldn’t have done it.”

“I don’t.  I had to.  No regrets.” Tony smiled at him and Peter marveled at how it could be so soft and so sad at the same time.  “I love you kid.”

“I love you too.” He said back and fell forward back into a hug.  After another long minute or so, Peter gathered enough self control to pull away again.  He couldn’t stay glued to the man forever.  No matter how much he may want to right now.

As Mr. Stark let him go, he kept his hands resting on Peter’s shoulders, and Peter remembered another thing he wished he’d gotten the chance to say when Mr. Stark had been alive.  The man had done so much for him. Had become something of a father figure to him.  And he’d never verbalized his appreciation in any way.

“I uh I never thanked you.” He said.

“You never had to.”

“Still, I want to.  Thank you.  For everything.”

“You’re welcome Pete.” Mr. Stark smiled.  “But no thanks are necessary.”

“Is there anything I can—"

“I don’t think we have much time left.” Mr. Stark interrupted with a frown.

“Oh.” A short burst of panic hit him.  He didn’t want to leave Mr. Stark.  “What-what if I want to stay?”

“No.” Mr. Stark answered firmly.  “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not your time yet.”

“So I can’t choose to stay?” He asked, but even as he did, he knew he never would.  He couldn’t do that to everyone he loved at home no matter how much he missed Mr. Stark.

“No.  That’s not how it works.  And you wouldn’t really want to stay anyway.” Mr. Stark said in his typical all-knowing fashion.

“I know.” He said sadly and then asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Shoot.”

“What’s it like here?”

Tony gave him a peaceful smile, eyes twinkling as he answered, “Wonderful.”

It didn’t fix anything, but it was a small consolation at least.  A weird feeling started somewhere near his belly and spread, like a buzzing, tugging sensation.

“Time to go Pete.” Mr. Stark said, his smile turning sad.

“Mr. Stark.” He whined and leaned forward to give him one last hug.  He hated the feeling of being torn away from him.  Hated how similar this whole thing felt to getting dusted on Titan.

“I know.” Mr. Stark shushed as Peter clung to him.  “But it’s ok buddy.  It’s going to be ok.”

Peter gripped him tighter, but he could tell it was a battle he was going to lose.

“Bye kid.  I love you and I’m so proud of you.” Mr. Stark whispered.

“I love you too.” He said frantically, worried any second he’d be torn away and unable to finish what he wanted to say.  “And I miss you so much.”

He tried to hold on, but in the next moment, he was finally ripped away.

“No.” He protested desperately.  “Tony!”

“Tony!” The man’s name was still on his lips as his eyes snapped open.

“Hey, you’re ok.” Rhodey said from where he was crouched down next to him.

“I…I…what?”

“That wizard guy hit you with a spell, but Strange finally figured out how to reverse it.” Rhodey explained.

Peter blinked and looked around, recognizing his surroundings.  He was lying on a couch in the Sanctum.  It all came back to him.  The fight.  The other wizard guy.  Getting hit by the red spell.  Mr. Stark.

“I saw Mr. Stark.” He blurted out and Rhodey’s eyes widened.  

“I did.  I saw him.” He insisted, worried the man wouldn’t believe him.

Rhodey looked up at someone behind Peter’s head.  Peter craned backward and noticed Dr. Strange standing there, a neutral expression on his face.

“It’s possible.” Dr. Strange said.  “The spell sent him somewhere where he was neither alive nor dead.”

“Mr. Stark called it the in between.”

Dr. Strange nodded and Rhodey looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Interesting that Stark was able to cross over into that place.” Dr. Strange said.  “You must have a strong connection with him for that to have been possible.”

Peter nodded, a lump forming in his throat as he remembered all that they had said.

Rhodey kept staring at him, his mouth open like he wanted to ask something but couldn’t figure out what.  If it’d been him, Peter knew what he’d want to know, so he answered the man’s wordless question.  

“He’s ok.”  Peter said with a small smile.  “He’s happy.”

[czolgosz]

american civil war medicine facts part 2!!

to elaborate a little more on people being able to move & make noise under anesthesia, bc it was kind of misleading: they were able to thrash and groan and that was about it! they couldn’t like. sit up or speak. and they were unconscious.

also more on the biting bullets myth: it’s caused by people seeing other soldiers being held down while under anesthesia and assuming they were conscious bc of the aforementioned groans and thrashing and being held down as well as bullets found with pig teeth indents in them

43 people are recorded to have died from anesthesia

lots of soldiers really didn’t want amputations. this is probably extremely obvious but for some reason it surprised me when i heard it??

the union was a lot more advanced (as in they had more money and also jonathan letterman) with medical care

ok time for diseases and medicines!

disease was the most common cause of death in soldiers, making up ~500,000 of the ~750,000 (about 2.5% of the total population) total deaths.

antibiotics did not exist

pneumonia, diarrhea/dysentery, typhoid, malaria, measles, smallpox, chicken pox, mumps, and whooping cough were some common diseases

measles, smallpox, chicken pox, mumps and whooping cough were more prominent during the beginning of the war, as a bunch of people were who had never been far from home were now together in crowded & dirty training camps

pneumonia, diarrhea/dysentery, typhoid, and malaria were caused, among union soldiers, by being in the new environment of the south

dysentery was frequently caused by soldiers setting up bathroom areas on the edges of streams/rivers and people drinking from those same streams/rivers later

quinine was used to treat malaria

paregoric was used for diarrhea/dysentery

fowler's solution, containing arsenic, was used for fevers

calomel, containing mercury, was used for diarrhea/dysentery

morphine was used for pain

laudanum (a mixture of alcohol and opium) was used for pain

morphine & laudanum was also used for diarrhea/dysentery, because opium causes constipation

opium was also used for coughing

due to opium being prescribed for everything, the civil war era saw the first united states opioid epidemic and is blamed for kicking off the spread of drug addiction in the united states in general

pretty much every medicine had nasty side effects, ranging from headaches and dizziness to organ failure and death. also i’m fairly certain quinine is bad for your teeth but i looked it up to check and couldn’t find anything

ok enough about diseases!! clara barton time

clara barton would show up at hospitals with wagons of medical supplies and help out, earning her the nickname ‘angel of the battlefield’

she taught herself nursing

the war department and field surgeons wanted her to stop helping

once while treating someone, a bullet went through her sleeve without hitting her and killed her patient

she originally only distributed supplies to union hospitals, but started helping both union and confederate soldiers after the first battle of bull run

she established the american red cross about 20 years after the war

back to other things

doctors sometimes used corn husks as bandages due to a lack of supplies

the reason hospitals were not initially established and the system for getting soldiers to hospitals was so disorganized was because most people, including the government, thought the war wouldn’t last long and didn’t bother

once again i do not feel like writing anymore. part 3 coming one day maybe, featuring ambulances, more on the evolution of hospitals and transportation to said hospitals, soldiers’ diets, railroads in relation to medical care, etc.

[alittlefrenchtree]

I feel so conflicted about Timmy. I loved the sweet, humble guy he was, but now he acts like the biggest diva, going to fashion shows, only hanging out with famous people. I miss the old Timmy, what I see now I don't like. And I don't like that he left earlier and didn't care about Armie, but can stop rehearsing to show his face at fashion weeks. I feel at the beginning it was only about his talent, now it's more about his fashion choices. I don't want to hate, I just feel different about him.

Me @ everyone who will read this answer : Please be kind?

Seriously, just be kind. That’s not a question, just be kind.

More important, unless you’re Nonny and looking for an answer of mine you really don’t have to read all of that. It’s mostly an observation on how Timmy’s career and image is handled right now and nothing groundbreaking at all. There a little bit about his relationship with Armie towards the end. Honestly even you, Nonny, you weren’t probably asking for an answer this long. I just love to hear myself thought, apparently. Sorry if it’s boring as hell for you 😅

I choose to believe that this ask isn’t coming from a wickedness place and doesn’t want to be mean. That’s the main reason why I’m answering this ask, instead of deleting it.

The second reason is because I’ve been contemplating the same kind of questions and the same kind of issues about Timmy for a while now. And since I’m now mostly at peace with all of it, and with the way I see him, I thought it could be interesting to share around that.

By sharing my view on how things are at this moment, I don’t want to invalidate your feelings, dear Nonny (or anyone who feels the same way). Like I said, I understand where they come from. I only hope that, by reading a different point of view, you’ll managed to feel a little bit less conflicted and maybe go back to enjoy some Timmy content like you used to. I hope I won’t sound to harsh or anything. This isn’t my intention at all.

I think the most important thing to remember is that 99% of what we see of Timmy is work. The work of an actor is not only acting. Especially when you have the ambition to become and to stay the kind of actor Timmy wants to be. Every time you see him at a public event, he’s working. Networking is working. Existing in the media eyes is working. Attending as fashion shows is working. That doesn’t mean that, in the case of fashion show for example, Haider isn’t also his friend. Of course they’re friends and of course he’s also showing support for his friend’s work. But it’s also a work relationship. That’s why it needs to be public. Haider is the one dressing him for the premieres of his movies. Haider is one of those who helped build his fashion reputation. Being seen together and publicly supporting each other work, it’s good for both of them, professionally speaking. What I mean is, when you see Tim at a fashion show or at a Hollywood party, it’s not free time for him. It’s a scheduled event on his work schedule. So when you said that he stops rehearsing to go to fashion show, that’s not entirely true. Firstly because it’s on week-end. Secondly, it would be like saying that he stops acting to do promo. Both things are work. Attending to Haider’s fashion show is also work.

Beside the London-Paris journey is hardly an effort. It would take me almost the same amont of time to go to Paris using public transports and I’m living like really close to Paris. And beside bis Timmy has seen SWM within the window of two days that was allowed by his work schedule so it’s not like he has never managed to make things work for Armie either.

For me, the problem is that Timmy has three jobs at the moment. He’s ‘one of the best actor of his generation’, the ‘most influential man in fashion’ and ‘a heartthrob for teenagers and young adults’. I’m phrasing things this way on purpose, because it shows how much weighs on him at the moment. All of this means a lot of expectations on him, a lot of judgements but also a lot of money depending on him. Even if all of his current statuts has been happening in a more or less natural way (he’s one of the best actor of his generation because he’s good at acting, his interest for fashion seems genuine and… well… He’s damn cute so of course he’s a teenage dream), my main concern is the fact that, right now, his public image is handled to encourage these three status at the same time. As long as his acting career is doing fine, it’s not a problem. If his acting career starts to be on the skids, or if one of his parts on a movie is suddenly having very bad reviews, the whole world will start to look at him and at his fashion/heartthrob statuts with different eyes.

But that moment hasn’t happened yet so I think it’s unfair to call him out on that now. He has shown nothing but hard work on the acting part of his career, and he has great things aligned for the next year. He’s a lead on the Dune remake by Denis Villeneuve, he’s starring on a Wes Anderson movie, he has that Bob Dylan thing who he seems really committed to and he’s about to do a run of a promising play. I think his choice on going back to theater, where everything is about acting, is really relevant of how focused is still he’s on acting.

I think it’s also interesting to notice the timing. For the past two years, Timmy has always been disappearing around that time of the year. So much that the Timmy drought has become a thing in the fandom. In the past, Timmy has expressed his need of disappearing and ‘going back in the mud’, both literally and figuratively, after being exposed to public eyes at this extend and for a long period of time. Truth is, I believe that Timmy is not allowed to disappear anymore. I don’t think you’re allowed to disappear for a while when Legendary Pictures is betting a lot amount of money on your pretty face. Because to disappear means media and social media will talk less about you and, in this industry, if people stop talking about you it basically means you’re dead.

So he can’t disappear. But somehow he found a way to focus on acting through theater, even if he has to do it in front of the public eyes. To be honest, I think it’s the least bad solution. I think the need to disappear for him (or anyone for that matter) for a decent period of time is really crucial for mental health and he hasn’t had this opportunity for a while, and I’m afraid he won’t have it either for the near future. Don’t get me wrong, I love that he’s doing theater again. I love having the opportunity to see him live perform I just wish he has a little bit more time to stay off the radar before going back for a whole year of craziness.

I understand that it can be frustrating to feel like most of the talks about him are about something else than his roles or his movies or his acting skills. Like I said, it’s part because of his/his team’s fault because they’ve been feeding the talk so it can keep going and going. It’s also part because the world works this way and is superficial as hell. Movie talks last a few months with the pre-promo/the premieres/the actually promo. A little bit more if you’re lucky enough to get nominations and awards. Then it becomes old news. Timmy’s persona exists every day. He’s doing and wearing new things every day and people are always more excited by what’s new. And the media will keep on using anything to have him as click-bait. It’s a win-win situation for both sides.

Except you never know when people are going to switch. One day they keep on waiting more and more of someone and the next day, they already grew tired of thi person. It’s been too much. They over did it. I sometimes use a tag that say something like « when can we say that too much is too much? » to react to what people and media sometimes do/write/say about Timmy to express this kind of feeling. Of course Tim and his team can’t control everything that is being said about him but I believe that the decisions they made in the past year? year and an half? have lead to this kind of craziness. This makes me think of that french paper, which was basically saying ‘why don’t we stop to consider Timmy as a kitten and make a fuss of everything he did and why don’t we start focusing on how he acts, because that is the real interesting thing to talk about.

Despite everything I can’t hold all of this too-much-ness against him when he’s still working so hard on his roles. I can’t blame him when I think of him giving so much on himself in that before-the-battle speech in The King that I want to go fight with and for him. I can’t blame him when I see him giving so much of himself for Laurie that he’s making me laugh and melt in the middle of a cinema room full of people when I’m usually pretty stoic in public. I just can’t blame him when I hear him talk about Dune and being so excited that he literally can’t stop himself for bouncing on his chair. I just can’t.

What I can do is not not pay attention to everything. I know it’s not an easy thing to do on tumblr and on social media when he’s everywhere and people are retweeting and reblogging the same things over and over again but if I’m not interested, I try to not pay attention. Back during CMBYN and BB era, I think I was looking at and reading everything. I’ve stopped shortly after. I didn’t read the article you’re referring to, for example. Because what’s Timmy is wearing interests me but not the shallow and irrelevant articles people will write about it. Most of them will say the same thing, that it’s Timothée Chalamet world now and us peasants are just humbly living on it. It’s going to be said over and over again until something newer, younger comes along. It’s ok. Being a teenage heartthrob will pass. Being the most influential man in fashion will probably also pass. I mean his fashion choices will probably keep on arousing interest but the world is going to catch up. Eventually.

But acting will stay.

And if in the meantime, he manages to enjoy a little bit of more superficial things and take a shot or two of confidence along the way without regretting too many decisions he made, I say why not let him do that? It’s not like we have a word to say anyway.

I understand what you mean about missing him being sweet and humble even if I disagree with you. I’m not saying that he’s not sweet and humble anymore but I felt something shift between the BB era and TK era. It’s also frustrating because it’s more a feeling than something I can prove or explain. I just don’t think he’s changed, I think he’s a little bit more guarded than before. And if I look at things from an human perspective, it makes sense?

The more people are watching me, irl or online, the more I’m going to be cautious about things I said and how I behave. The more guarded I’ll be. And in my case, we’re only talking about dozens from a few hundreds tops of people tops. Can you imagine living your life in front of millions people? I’d put some distance and some defenses between me and the world as well. He has to if he wants to survive.  

We’ve been lucky to have witnessed something as precious and rare as what we have witnessed during the CMBYN and a little bit during the BB era. It was something beautiful but it wasn’t meant to last. Not in the same kind of proportions anyway.

So I don’t think Timmy is acting like the biggest diva. Like I’ve said, what we see of his life is 99% work-related and we see about 10% of his time? Less of that?

Like for example, he’s been in London for what? 10-12 days now? And if I’m not mistaking, we haven’t seen him anywhere except from fans meeting him briefly outside of the theater and him picking up food? Whatever he’s doing, if he has a wild life or if he’s in bed at 9pm every night, he’s being discreet about it. Like he’s always been discreet about his private life, his close friends and his family. Just because he’s discreet about it doesn’t mean he doesn’t see them — old friends and people who aren’t famous. He just doesn’t feel the need to post their face on social media or meeting them in front of paparazzis.

Of course if I wanted to see him as a diva, I could. I’d look at him wearing sunglasses inside and declare that he’s a diva. When there could be thousands of reasons for him to wear sunglasses inside. I wouldn’t surprise me to learn that flashes during fashion week are painful for the eyes, especially for people with color eyes as light as Timmy’s. Especially if you’re tired. Or hangover. Or maybe he’s just thinking of sunglasses as an integral part of his outfit. Like shoes or socks or jewelry or backpacks. Or maybe he just feel safer that way and it helps his anxiety. I tried wearing sunglasses all day long at a couple of occasions when I was particularly tired and it was kind of amazing. Plus it allows you to avoid eye contact with humans which is also amazing.

I wanted to touch a little bit on the fashion topic before moving on to the Armie one. I’m guessing you’re not really passionate or fond of fashion. It’s ok. You’re allowed to and fashion and haute couture don’t do much to help themselves. Or didn’t do much. I guess things are slowly changing like everywhere else. But there are a lot of ego, of superficiality, a lot of changes and improvements that could be made. A friend who has worked for designers and still work in the fashion industry once told me that the industry wouldn’t be that bad if designers stop acting like they were saving the world with their clothes. My point is, just because something has a reputation, doesn’t mean every person who takes part of this thing has the same reputation. There are people in fashion who are truly passionate about what they’re doing and teach you things about fashion that make you look at clothes as wearable pieces of art. Because when you look closely at haute couture, you can see that fashion can take its influences in architecture, sculpture, painting and in many many others artistic disciplines. It has its own history, its own revolutions, its own movements. It tells something about our time and ourselves as a society. All of that goes without even mentioning the close relationship between fashion, high fashion and movies, which I’m sure is very interesting from a Timmy perspective. (I swear I wrote all of that before reading the Dazed itw. Like pinky swear).

At this point, Timmy could have a seat in the first row for every fashion show of every brand. He could attend to all of them, with a different outfit for each, make a show every time and take all the clothes that designers would sell their cat to see him wearing. He doesn’t. He shows up for about two designers and communicate about one more and that’s all. It’s work. Something related to his red carpet premieres. It’s fun and something he uses to express himself and his personality. I think he said something in the Dazed interview among these lines. That fashion is fun but is main focus in on acting.

Here :

“With the development of my career, I also slowly entered the fashion industry. I can feel that fashion and movies are similar to a certain extent. For me, participating in a movie or wearing a suit is about the people I work with, not the brand or money. That's why I keep working with Haider and Virgil. I also maintain good relationships with many brands, but I will not be overly tied to fashion for this. Because my career is an actor, my dream is to be an actor, and I am very satisfied and very happy to be an actor.”

Regarding of Armie… Honestly I’m kind of tired of the debate. Because I’m tired of what the debate says about how we see relationships these days, without even talking about Armie and Timmy.

I’m still trying to understand at which point we has started to need public proofs of private relationships. Likes, Facebook statuts, pictures shared publicly, couple selfies… I mean what the point? How have we become so insecure about relationships and ourselves that we’re now feeling the need to share proofs of private relationships with the whole world to believe it? And to the point that we are now projecting our own insecurities on relationships of others? It makes absolutely no sense to me.

If I wasn’t talking with/seeing my close ones for a whole year or a whole decade for whatever reason, they would still be my close ones. I believe the same thing about Armie and Timmy. Except these two idiots seems to be talking to each other all the time and seeing each other pretty regularly. But because Armie isn’t about work anymore, we don’t have to see it.

Over the past four years, they’ve done nothing but showing and saying how much they care about each other and know about each other and how much they’re still close. Timmy literally said I love you to Armie in a damn public speech. Name me another person for whom he said that. The three words, plane and simple.

If you’re willing to believe that liking each other post on social media or showing up at a public events or pose in front of photographers are better proofs of closeness that what they’ve been doing so far, that says something about how you see relationships, not about how they really are.

Loving someone is not always about rubbing it off publicly for everyone to see. More often than not, loving someone is about answering your phone in the middle of the night, because the person you love and care about can’t sleep or is on another time zone and needs you. That something you can show off on social media or get papped. And maybe we need to start to believe that it’s even more valuable exactly because of that.

[narastories]

Happy 291st Birthday, Lord John Grey! - A Natal Chart Reading for our dearest English Lord

This is very different from what I usually share here. By now you are all aware that we are celebrating the 291st birthday of Lord John Grey of Outlander.

For this occasion I took it upon myself to do a natal chart reading for him.

This is astrology applied to a fictional character, you have been warned. Continue at your own discretion.

Disclaimers:

I am not an astrologer

This is made in the spirit of appreciation of this character and his story. The purpose of this is pure fun on my part and hopefully to entertain some of you as well. Plus, maybe to provide some character-study-style insight or inspiration.

The character of Lord John Grey belongs to Diana Gabaldon - duh 

John’s birth date is canon. The time has been arbitrarily chosen by me. Yes, it is important, because there are a lot of moving parts to a natal chart. I have literally cycled through the day by the hour, compared charts and decided on the one that I’ve found most fitting to his character. Which, is by the way best practice, when you do not know your or someone else’s exact birth time, but are somewhat familiar with their character. And considering that even if our dearest Lord John were an actual historical figure, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have his exact birth time from 1729, so I don’t feel bad about my process.

The examples I may give here are both from the books and the show, but nothing too specific that would be considered spoiler.

Lastly, this is all my interpretation both about the astrological meanings and of his character. Feel free to disagree with me. Politely, if you please.

So, in good Outlander time-travelling fashion let’s transport ourselves back to the day Lord John Grey was born and look up to the sky to see what it has to tell us.

Sun in Gemini

Lord John is a Gemini, which makes him clever and witty. He takes pride in his intellect and uses it to reach his goals. He is extremely adaptable, and instantly finds his footing in the most various settings, whether that��s London’s high society, a remote village in Scotland, or a two week fishing trip in the wilderness of the Colonies.

As someone born under the sign of the Twins there is a natural duality to his personality, that we can observe many times. He is capable of great tenderness, yet he can also be extremely fierce. Brutal is perhaps not the right word, but as much as he is a gentleman, we do see him engaged in physical fight, where he is by no means unskilled. You can’t say it’s always self-defense either.

He often has an internal conflict between heart and mind, between duty and emotion.

Geminis make good actors, and Lord John is exceptional in that too. He has to be as a gay man in the 18th century, which creates another duality between the life he’s supposed to live as a solider and as a Lord, a respected member of high-society and all the things he craves but has to hide.

As a Gemini he is a great communicator. Good with people, small talk comes easy for him, but engaging in a deep intellectual conversation is what really fires him up (Shakespear, anyone? :P) He is pleasant to be around and has a good sense of humour. His skills are diverse and he makes friends easily as he moves from one adventure to the other.

Geminis are prone to restlessness, which Lord John demonstrates beautifully by fidgeting with every little knick-knack that accidentally lands between his well-manicured hands. (Why does he stash them away in his pockets? I’m afraid astrology has no answer for his accidental kleptomania.)

His Sun is in the Ninth House of mental and physical explorations. Long journeys of the mind and the body are prominent in his life and essential to his personality. He speaks multiple languages and uses them to express himself on a very personal and natural level - aka swearing in the language most appropriate to the level of shit he’s gotten himself into this time.

Libra Rising

His rising sign is Libra, which sheds light on how he presents himself and what he wants to be known for. People with Libra Ascendant have natural grace and a good style. Lord John has all of that and finds himself often in the spotlight for it. He doesn’t have to struggle to be successful, but more than anything he wants to be known as a kind and loving person, and I would argue he succeeds in that.

His rising sign is important, because his natal chart is ruled by Venus, the planet of love and beauty. He has a romantic nature, and has the ability to connect with anyone, anywhere at any given time.

Libra rising people are said to be very attractive and compatible with almost anyone and as we say around here Lord John Grey would have chemistry with a lamppost.

This doesn’t just extend to romantic partners, although he is the happiest when in a romantic relationship. He puts others at ease and is genuinely likeable.

He feels obligated to balance the situations he finds himself in, therefore he is a natural diplomat always striving to harmonize and negotiate. It also makes him a good listener.

He has a great sense of fairness and injustice angers him. He is social, has a generally positive outlook on life and is inspired by nature and art.

Moon in Aquarius

The moon sign represents the hidden side of someone’s personality, their emotions, their needs. It is also jokingly referred to as the “drunk you”, so let’s see who Lord John is after a few glasses of good Scottish whiskey.

At first glance there is nothing scandalous here, Aquarius is the most favorable sign for the Moon to be in. This gives him sensitivity and good perception. He tries to understand others’ perspective, and is rather idealistic.

However, people with the Moon in Aquarius are prone to sudden outbursts. How many times does he put his foot in his mouth and gets punched or called out to a duel for it? Yeah…

He can also push other’s over the edge emotionally, exactly because he is so perceptive, which actually does happen when he is drunk. This is not out of malice, but either out of pure authenticity or just because he knows it will get the other person out of a place of stagnation.

He hides a rebellious, progressive and unconventional soul under that well-tailored waistcoat of his and it does come out sometimes.

Ideally he needs to have a healthy outlet for this, a partner who appreciates his sometimes idiosyncratic nature and occasional eccentricities. In turn he won't flinch in the midst of the most challenging situations, because he’s not afraid of chaos.

He wants to find solutions that work for everyone and can neglect his own needs in the process.

If that wasn’t enough air for you, he also has a-

Grand Fucking Trine in the air signs

Which is a pretty big deal. (Moon in Aquarius - Pluto in Libra - Neptune and Mars in Gemini)

These influences all help and strengthen each other. He has a brilliant mind, his Intellect is exceptional, he has a deep concern for law and duty, and an unusually sharp sixth sense of unearthing shocking revelations.

He has a magnetic personality, great ability to express himself, and therefore leaves a lasting impression on others. He is able to inspire and lead others and his need for harmony and cooperation makes him a great negotiator.

Lots and lots of air influence, which also means that in the battle of the mind and the heart unfortunately the mind wins and he lets his heart break instead.

Let’s get back to Venus and love for a sec.

With this much air in the chart for him everything starts in the mind. He experiences desire in the mind first. He must have a great intellectual connection with someone, before their relationship could blossom into a romance (Venus in Gemini). His entry point to sex is also through words (Mars in Gemini). Think about all the witty foreplay and low-key dirty talk in the LJG books. And also, khm chess games...

Where does that occasional intensity and dominance come from, you ask?

Well, he does have Uranus in Scorpio (semisquare Venus in Gemini, semisquare his Sun in Gemini) which would explain why he is not always displaying the lighthearted, fun, fleeting ways of a Venus-in-Gemini lover. He does have a lot of sexual partners. But then we’ve already established that he would have chemistry with a lamppost.

His chart is heavy on the 9th and 10th houses of long distance travel, career and public standing, and these are probably the most important aspects of his life. He is a comparatively lucky person, with a lively social life, charming personality and strong morality (Jupiter in Cancer).

His great trauma lies in what squares Neptune and Mars in the 9th house. There is an opposition between his sexuality and dreams, and what ideas he is allowed to express publicly. He is sensitive to what others think (Mercury in Cancer), picks up signals very well and is therefore acutely aware of what he can and cannot say.

Here lies the greatest disappointment and loss in his life (Saturn in Pisces). He chooses to make personal sacrifices for the benefit of others.

His Chiron is in the 7th house of partnership and marriage, which I also find interesting. This minor planet get’s called the Wounded Healer. It makes me think about what Claire and Jamie says about wounds and Lord John. And it also makes me think about his marriage.

Well, if that doesn’t make for an interesting personality, I don’t know what does. I hope this has been at least half as fun to read as it was to write. Let me know what you think.

[mirrorfalls]

Lego Liveblogs ST: TOS, part 9 (of who-the-hell-knows-how-many?)

What Are Little Girls Made Of? Let’s just hope it’s more moral stuff than the last boy the Enterprise took onboard...

* I see we’re wasting no time getting the nurse to take over Yeoman Rand’s eyecandy duties. Shame that Barrett’s Number One characterization is a no-go now. * Huh, plot’s shaping up to be a redux on The Man Trap. Not a high bar to clear. * “Beam down alone, just yourself.” Yeah, that’s your cue to pack an extra-sized Phaser, Kirk. * Nice try, girls, but Spock still ain’t turning his head for either of you. * “Whoopsy daisies, almost forgot our sacrificial meat!” ** Wow, even I wasn’t expecting the sacrifice that quick! * That is one Scooby Doo-ass lookin’ villain ** Who’s on a whole shelf away from this assistant guy, which obviously means he’s totally fine and trustworthy! * Aaaaand you two goldbricks are officially on your own. * Does... it really make sense for a species to go underground when their sun’s too cold? I guess they’re supposed to be warmed by the geothermal stuff down there? * Alright, Gene I’m impressed. How’d you get an outfit like this past 1960s censors?! * Well, that escalated quickly. ** I’d wisecrack about Kirk’s choice of “tactic”, but I think I’m more disturbed by the fact he dialed his Phaser straight to “melt stomach” intensity before he knew he was shooting a robot. What happened to Stun Mode? * He breaks necks and does voices! Wotta guy. * Kirk, you gotta start thinking like a sci-fi protag. Who says that’s the real professor? ** Oh, okay, I guess he is the real professor, he’s just completely lost his marbles. * Hum - this seems to be sowing the seeds for Nurse Christine to save the day, and if any actress has that level of pull it’s Barrett, but once can never underestimate the sexism of ‘60s TV... ** Case in point: Andrea, who proves this isn’t just The Man Trap. It’s The Man Trap with Mudd’s Women thrown in for good measure. * Make up your mind, Prof, are you trying to keep this a secret or not? * Don’t be racist, Nurse. * Nah, Prof, if she were logical you would’ve been choking on your own spinal cord ages ago. * Funniest. Cliffhanger. Ever. ** Seriously, Kirk asks one stupid question and smash-cut to him in a Batman ‘66 deathtrap. ** Wait, is that the Piltdown Man? * “Choose, Christine. Which is your captain?” “Do I get a Phaser?” * Oh jeez, I’d heard there was an episode where the crew snagged a fake Kirk because he was being racist toward Spock, but I didn’t know it was because the real Kirk fed that racism into the fake one. * “What he's done may seem wrong...” Nurse, he killed two guys without blinking. It’s a good thing you’re feeding all this to robo-Kirk, because I’m not sure the real one would forgive you. * Okay, even money says robo-Kirk dies by getting force-fed something that makes him short-circuit. Irony at its most delicious. ** Alternatively: why not just ask it to calculate pi? ** And they say Starfleet siblings always come outta nowhere! * Okay, I’ve kicked this episode pretty hard so far, but the central point here is pretty solid sci-fi: can a machine ever be a proper receptacle for a human consciousness, however advanced its programming? On the other hand, should we get so high-and-mighty just because the electric impulses driving us come from meat instead of silicon? ** I also like how the professor isn’t a full-on��“ALL emotion is Bad!” type. He’s not even opposed to sentimentality, necessarily - he just thinks you can program away all the negative bits. * Ooh, Godwin’s Royal Flush! That’s pretty rare. * Whoof. Okay, I know people usually like to paint Kirk and Bond as opposites, but this is a move worthy of any 00-agent. Doesn’t just give you a momentary hostage, but makes sure he’s in no position to give complicated orders even after you’ve tossed him. * Give the big guy some credit too - he knows he’s programmatically bound to obey Nurse Christine, so his solution to that is just running the fuck outta earshot. * Ah, the legendary Dong Rock. 50% more dong-y in context! * Heavens to Betsy! How will Kirk save himsel... ** By not saving himself, apparently. Seems the big guy heard Christine after all. * Love Spock’s “Has the Transporter been spewing evil clones again?” face. * So Kirk... logics(?) both the big bruiser and the sultry henchgirl into defying their master. Adherents of the Three Laws are no doubt crying, but personally I think it’s more hit than miss; no matter how airtight the programming, once an AI reaches a certain level of complexity it has to develop some kind of survival instinct. * Holy last-act plot twist! * Prof, maybe you shouldn’t have programmed her with Yandere chips. Just a thought. * But back to the he-was-a-robot-all-along! bit... it’s got a strong base, but I feel it refuses to quit while it’s ahead. The longer Kirk talks, the more his argument starts sounding like “If you’re really human then why don’t we like you? :|” * Aww, a murder-suicide to cap things off. Isn’t it romantic? * “Think up a better excuse than that, Captain, or my next message will be to Starfleet HR.” * Written by... the Psycho guy? That explains a lot.

I’m probably not even the hundredth guy to note this, but this is easily the pulpiest Trek script to come down the pike - the square-jawed hero who ain’t scared to get his hands dirty but really survives by his wits, the swooning damsel who gets to be useful exactly once, the mad doctor wielding Scary Foreign Knowledge that not only perverts every law of God and man but threatens to infiltrate our fair society, his Big Scary Humorless Thug and sultry (but dangerously jealous) henchgirl... 

There are parts where the sci-fi port improves things and even broaches legitimately interesting topics, and it’s a damn sight better than either The Man Trap or Mudd’s Women, but on the whole I don’t think I’ll be in a rush to rewatch this one. Without too many standout “What the fuck is this?!” moments, there’s nevertheless a kind of sleaziness to the whole thing...

(Those were some neat overalls, though.)

Next: The first of many Shakespeare-derived shows! Will the Bard be done proud?