#but i did like that you can have little quests to deepen your bond with your team members

[piduai]

i liked the demo for the newest rgg game enough. it has stuff i enjoy generally (gambling den, i loved the spot the pervert and delivery minigames, side stories seem stupid and funny enough). but i hate the turn based system 🙄 like what do you mean i can't have tiger drop. fuck off. grinding and levelling up skills is one of my favorite things about this whole thing but it's not like you get to unlock and learn skills as you play, you just level up and gain attack power. which is anticlimactic. me personally i prefer spending as little time in combat as possible but with this each street brawl takes forever because everyone needs to have a turn. and it's also mega dumb that you can't guard as some whomstie is attacking you??? you just gotta stand there and hope it won't eat through your entire health bar. very frustrating. and like for this price i could get an okay pair of real leather shoes so i'm hesitant

[siriuslysmoking]

Eyes

Fictober Masterlist

Day 7 of Fictober: Percy and a Siren

Percy stood at the bow of the small boat, the salty spray of the ocean misting his face as the sun began to dip toward the horizon. He was on a quest to find a lost artifact rumored to be hidden in the depths of the sea. The crew was tense, and the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation.

“Keep an eye out, guys,” Percy said, scanning the choppy waters. “The artifact should be around here somewhere.”

Just then, a haunting melody drifted through the air, carried by the wind. It was beautiful and captivating, sending a shiver down his spine. The sound seemed to call to him, tugging at something deep within.

“Did you guys hear that?” he asked, glancing back at his friends, but they were too busy with their own tasks, oblivious to the enchanting song.

Curiosity piqued, Percy leaned over the edge of the boat, peering into the shimmering depths below. As the notes grew clearer, he saw a figure rise from the water, your head breaking the surface. Your hair floated around you like seaweed, and your eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and allure.

“Hello there,” you said, your voice a melodic blend of sea and song. “What brings a demigod to my waters?”

Percy’s heart raced. “I’m looking for an artifact. It’s supposed to be around here. But... are you a Siren?”

You grinned, your expression playful. “A Siren, yes. But I’m not here to lure you to your doom, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He couldn’t help but smile back, captivated by your charm. “That’s a relief. I’ve had enough near-death experiences this week.”

“I know a lot about these waters,” you said, glancing around as if the sea itself were your ally. “I can help you find what you seek. But you’ll have to trust me.”

Percy hesitated for a moment, remembering the tales of Sirens. “What’s the catch?”

You laughed, a light, airy sound. “No catch. Just a little adventure. Besides, I might enjoy the company.”

“Alright, but I’m keeping an eye on you,” he replied, half-joking, as he leaned over the edge to get a better look at you.

You dove beneath the waves, leaving behind a trail of shimmering bubbles. Percy leaned over the boat, peering into the depths, excitement bubbling within him. Moments later, you surfaced again, holding a glimmering shell in your hand.

“Follow me,” you said, beckoning him with a smile. “I’ll show you where the artifact lies.”

Percy glanced back at his friends, who were still busy and unaware of the enchanting encounter. With a determined nod, he took a deep breath and dove into the water, letting the cool embrace of the ocean envelop him.

As he swam beside you, the world above faded away. The ocean was a vibrant realm filled with color and life, and for the first time, Percy felt truly free. Together, you navigated through coral reefs and schools of fish, your laughter echoing beneath the waves.

“I think I’m starting to understand why you like it down here,” he said, marveling at the beauty around him.

“Welcome to my world, Percy Jackson,” you replied, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Now let’s find that artifact.”

As you both ventured deeper into the blue, the bond between you began to deepen, woven together by adventure, trust, and the song of the sea.

Taglist: @champomiel @nockstormbringer @strawbeffys @ellapurnellmybeloved @mysticliars-blog1

[restlessfandoming]

“new arrivals” (chilumi oneshot)

Lumine and Childe anticipate the birth of their baby. As always, the two of them never have a moment of peace, and unexpected events arise, throwing everything in danger’s way.

//

hey friends! long time no see :p

i’ve finished my fic “the president and the troublemaker” so i’m back to writing one shots for a bit. if you haven’t read it yet, check it out on my profile :D

this oneshot is in response to this ask i received c:

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

* * *

“new arrivals”

Lumine hated Childe. Well, she hated Childe sometimes. She loved him, she really did, but in this moment, she hated him.

“Just because I am pregnant, doesn’t mean I can’t walk,” she nearly growled at him.

With a sheepish smile, Childe removed his hands from her arms. “Sorry, sorry. Your waddling makes me nervous.”

Lumine scoffed. “Of course I have to waddle.” She patted her swollen belly. “How else can I get around with this thing in me?”

Almost as if in retaliation, Lumine felt a kick inside her—don’t call me ‘thing.’

Instantly, Childe’s hand were resting on her bump, eagerly awaiting their baby’s movements. It truly amazed Lumine at how natural Childe’s paternal instincts were.

Their weekly spars had turned into nightly meetings, and nightly meetings had turned into...Well. Their current situation. It hadn’t been planned, obviously, it had just happened.

It had taken Lumine a whole week of nauseous morning after nauseous morning before Childe finally convinced her to visit Bubu Pharmacy where they both received the shock of their lives. Baizhu had been very compassionate, ensuring the confidentiality of the pregnancy as they left.

Childe had been the first one to get over the shock. For Childe, who had spent his life surrounded by family and younger siblings, he had easily grown accustomed to the idea of his own family—especially one with Lumine.

Lumine, on the other hand, took much, much longer. She hadn’t ever given it a thought: her own family?

She was on a quest to find her brother, of course. To regain her powers, defeat the Unknown God, and leave this world with Aether. She couldn’t just settle down and start a family.

Weeks passed, Lumine’s stomach growing, as she slipped into a dark place, thoughts of failure filling her mind—I’m never going to leave now.

Childe had spent all of his time, taking care of Lumine as she looked after herself less and less. Slowly, he was giving up his duties as a Harbinger; the Tsaritsa and his comrades were growing suspicious. Childe knew if they found out, it would only end in violence. A child between one of their strongest Harbingers and the all-powerful Outlander? They would surely want it as a pawn on their side, if they weren’t going to kill it first.

Childe found them a tiny cottage secluded in the vast mountain ranges of Liyue, with help from Zhongli, who was, of course, the most familiar with the lay of the land. He practically had to carry Lumine there, who was still deep in her depressive state, who spent her days laying in bed, staring blankly at the walls of her inn room, unwilling to move.

Once they were in the cottage, Childe again took care of her as she continued to contemplate her fate, unmoving; he made sure she ate, he cleaned her, and was always there to hold her at night, telling her that he would be with her no matter what she decided to do.

Her love for him only deepened as she saw how selflessly he helped her, how loyal he was. Because of him and his love and devotion, she slowly came to terms with their situation.

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this life: some secluded home in the mountains with Childe and a bouncing baby on her hip. A slow, peaceful life; it would be such a luxury from what her life was before. But, there was always that pang of guilt that settled in the back of her throat: the anxious thoughts that she was abandoning Aether, her twin brother, for this.

And perhaps it was that guilt that blocked Lumine from having any real connection with the life growing inside her. She hadn’t envisioned whether it would be a son or daughter, whether it would have her hair or Childe’s eyes—she hadn’t even thought of a name. Thinking of this baby only drew up a blank slate, a missing void.

Now nearing the end of her pregnancy, she felt a lot of movement inside. She knew that those moments were supposed to be special, that mothers cherished those feelings, but Lumine’s body registered them more as just...foreign movements.

There was also the fear. The fear of not being able to be a mother in the first place. She envied Childe and his ease with parenthood: knowing all the things to prepare, the foods she should be eating, the first lessons to teach. Lumine had no clue what to say or do.

She and Aether had been abandoned, left to fend for themselves, from a very young age. She never had a solid parental figure in her life.

How am I ever going to be a good mother?

A soft touch to her cheek pulled Lumine from her ruminations.

Childe gave her a smile. “Need anything, Lumi?”

Lumine put her hand over his. “Hm, I am a bit hungry,” she said.

A light chuckle. “How about some sticky honey roast?” His hand slid down from her cheek, his thumb on the corner of her lips. “You’re drooling already.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Shouldn’t you be hurrying up then?”

Childe laughed, then kissed her forehead. “I’ll come get you when it’s ready,” he told her, exiting to the kitchen.

Lumine turned, looking out the open window, into their little garden. The earthly scent wafted through the window, the warm sunshine adding an extra tang to the air. Through the window she counted the growing vegetables, taking note of those ready to harvest.

Humming quietly to herself, she made her way to the kitchen, standing in the doorway to watch Childe flutter about the room, pulling various pots, pans, and utensils out from the shelves.

Archons, he was going to be such a good father.

!!!

There was another movement in her womb, this time sharper, a bit more painful. She let out a tiny gasp.

Childe turned, and immediately went to her, brows furrowed. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “There’s been a lot of movement lately.”

There was a long pause before Childe spoke. “Must mean it’s nearly time.”

She locked eyes with him. “Already?”

He reached out and soothed out her hair. “Hey, no worries. I will be right here with you—always.” He smiled softly. “We’ll get through it together.”

Lumine nodded, her throat drying. “I’ll be in the garden for a bit.”

“Okay. Can you get some carrots while you’re there? We’re running a bit low.”

She nodded again, leaving the house while Childe returned to his preparations.

She walked through the tall grass, pushing open the wooden fence leading into the garden, her slippers thudding quietly against the little cobblestone path. Finding the patch of carrots, she slowly knelt down, beginning to pull the orange vegetables from the earth.

Birds tweeted, insects chirped, and Lumine again found herself in the vortex of anxiety as she thought about the coming days. Any day from now, she was going to birth a whole new life into the world—a tiny, little, helpless life she was going to have to raise, look after. Can I do it?

She shook her head.

She had helped countless lives, people of all ages and backgrounds, during her time in Teyvat. She had even formed special bonds with so many of them, this child being a result of one of those special bonds. So, surely she would find her way to loving this new life, to caring for it with all her heart, right?

And she would still search for Aether. Aether wouldn’t be angry. He would love a niece or nephew to look after. She was sure her child would love their uncle right back. So, she would have to find Aether for her child and—

BZZT.

Lumine blinked. Was that a bug?

“Found you.”

Lumine looked over her shoulder, finding a familiar blue-haired boy standing behind her. Scaramouche.

“What an annoyance it’s been looking for you,” he said, the ball of electricity crackling dangerously in his hand.

Anxiety pooled into Lumine’s veins. She wouldn’t be able to fight him, not like this. I can’t even stand up quickly right now.

!!!

Another painful movement ripped through Lumine’s body. She bit the side of her cheek in to keep quiet in front of Scaramouche.

“Not going to say anything?” he taunted, taking steps closer to her. “Not even going to raise your weapon at me?”

She dug her nails into the dirt, trying to make the pain go away.

“C’mon. What happened to the almighty Outlander?” His voice continued to drop in annoyance. Lumine could feel the electricity sparking directly behind her now.

“What do you want?” she strained out.

A sardonic laugh rippled through the air as he yanked her up by her hair.

“What I’ve been ordered to do.” He brought the electricity closer to her throat. “To kill—”

He froze, tiny flickers of Electro energy pricking Lumine’s skin. He let her go, stepping around her as she collapsed back onto the ground.

“How...interesting,” he breathed, eyes cast down at Lumine’s pregnant body. “So this is why you’ve hid all this time.” His eyes twitched, calculating what to do with the new information.

Lumine rubbed at her neck. “Are you still going to kill me? Or take me back to your Tsaritsa?”

“Who’s the father?” Violet-blue eyes met amber. “Don’t tell me…” He let out a cynical laugh, eyes growing wide with hysteria. “That idiot? Of course! Why didn’t we see it before? The two of you did disappear around the same time…”

He leaned down, bringing the Electro energy back near Lumine’s face. “Tartaglia’s nearby, isn’t he?”

Lumine glared at him. I can just pull my sword out right now. He was close enough for her to throw a quick jab at. Maybe she could disarm him and get away.

It had been so long since she had last fought, since she last materialized her sword. It was going to take some time to do it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally answered. She focused her energy to her palm, searching through the void for her weapon.

“Playing dumb’s not going to work.” There was a surge of power through the ball of electricity. “You should just tell me before I kill you and find out for myself.”

“You don’t even want the child? You’re just going to kill a potentially powerful weapon?” she tried to bargain. She needed more time. She could feel her sword’s particles slowly returning to her.

Scaramouche paused for a brief second to consider. “Sounds like a liability.” He glanced up at the sky. “The Tsaritsa has all she needs. I’d rather not run the risk of another filthy betrayer.”

SHING!

Lumine’s sword appeared in her hand.

Without hesitation, she stabbed up at Scaramouche, forcing all the elemental energy in her body through the weapon.

Anemo and Geo energy struck the Harbinger in his chest, sending him flying across the garden.

Lumine struggled to stand, stumbling her way back to the house, energy already quickly draining from her heavy body. She glanced back at Scaramouche.

He was standing up, his eyes twitching with rage. “You—” He launched an Electro attack directly at her.

She raised her hand, trying to charge her counter attack as fast as she could.

I can’t get it in time—!

A shield of Hydro formed in front of her, dissipating Scaramouche’s attack.

Relief washed over Lumine as she turned around. Childe—

“Mona?!” she blurted.

The twin-tailed astrologist gave her a small smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she said. Her eyes flickered to Lumine’s belly. “And with child?”

“What are you doing here?!”

Mona threw up a Hydro shield as Scaramouche fired another sphere of Electro.

“The Hydro witch again,” he snarled. “You’re really getting on my nerves.”

Scaramouche charged an arc of lightning straight at them.

Mona casted a large bubble of water to surround them, wincing as the lightning collided with the shield, burning sparks deflecting all over.

The lightning didn’t disappear upon collision, instead continuously barraging against the water. Mona closed her eyes in concentration, brows furrowing with each passing second.

Scaramouche twisted his arm, amping the lightning with more energy, the Electro glow brightening.

CRACK!

Mona let out a sharp gasp; a fine line had splintered in the bubble.

Lumine raised her hands, straining her muscles, and mustering any energy in her body to charge a barrier of her own to help her friend.

!!!

She groaned as she collapsed back onto her knees, a horrible, throbbing pain rippling through her abdomen. Her eyes widened, feeling water trickle down the side of her leg.

No, no, no...not now!

“Lumine!” Mona breathed out. “What’s wrong?”

The blonde cried out as her body underwent another contraction. “I—the baby…,” was all she managed to get out before letting out another cry of pain. The baby is coming!

Mona cursed, another line fracturing in her shield.

“It’s over!” Scaramouche yelled. “There’s no use delaying your deaths!”

A smattering of blue Hydro energy rushed past the women, heading directly for the Harbinger. Just as quickly, Scaramouche withdrew his arc of lightning at Mona and Lumine, blocking the oncoming attack.

Childe locked his daggers with Scaramouche’s Electro shield. His face was twisted in a snarl, a dark, evil expression Lumine had never seen before.

“I’m going to kill you,” he said to Scaramouche, voice gravelly, but plain, as if it were just a simple fact being stated.

The blue-haired boy barked out a laugh. “You can’t. You were always the weakest one of us all.”

Childe mimicked the laughter. “I never did like you, Scaramouche.” His ocean eyes narrowed. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

There was an explosion of Hydro, engulfing the two Harbingers. The two struck each other with ultimate speed and precision, only brief glimpses of their fight visible, disembodied clashes of weapons and elements.

Mona let down her own barrier, short of breath, and knelt next to Lumine.

“I’ll teleport us out of here—to safety,” she said.

Lumine reached out, grasping onto her friend’s arm. “No,” she heaved. “Not...without him.” She looked up, eyes tracking Childe. I’m not going to leave you.

“The father?” the mage asked. She worried her lip as she stared ahead, lost in thought. Then, “Wait here,” she said.

The witch shimmered into thin air with a torrent of water, reappearing next to Childe. Both Scaramouche and Childe immediately turned their weapons at her, which she deflected.

She leapt and grabbed Childe by the shoulder, disappearing yet again, rematerializing next to Lumine. Childe and Scaramouche both let out curses as Mona grabbed Lumine’s arm.

WHOOSH!

Lumine blinked, and the three of them were in a thick forest: a distance aways from where they were before.

Mona cried out as Childe knocked her to the ground, foot pinning her arm, dagger at her face.

“Who are you?” he growled.

“Friend!” Lumine croaked out. “She’s my friend!”

Childe turned towards Lumine. He released his weapons, rushing to Lumine’s side. “Are you hurt?” he asked, gently examining her.

“It’s coming,” Lumine whispered.

She felt his muscles tense against her. “Right now?” Upon her nod, he clenched his jaw. He turned back to Mona. “Do you know anything about childbirth?”

Mona glared at him slightly, rubbing at her bruised arm. “No. I’m an astrologist, not a doctor.”

Childe returned the expression. “Could you get us to Liyue Harbor? To BuBu Pharmacy?”

A shake of the head. “It takes a lot of energy to teleport. I won’t be able to do it for a while, unfortunately.”

!!!

Another contraction pulsed through Lumine’s body. “Now,” she groaned. “It has to be now.” It’s coming, it’s coming, it’s coming. Tears gathered in her eyes, from the pain, from the fear barraging her mind.

“Okay, okay,” Childe said, tender. He stroked Lumine’s hair. “You’re going to have the baby right here, okay?”

He yanked off his jacket, laying it under Lumine. He motioned at Mona. “You are going to have to hold her leg.”

Mona came to Lumine’s side, face slightly pale, then took off her cape and folded it into a makeshift pillow under the blonde’s head. “You’re a doctor?”

Childe shook his head. His face was taut. “Lots of younger siblings. I’ve seen my mother deliver before.” He grabbed Lumine’s hand softly. “It’s mostly going to be you from here,” he said. He squeezed her hand. “And I know you’re going to do great. Like you always do.”

I can’t.

All her battles combined didn’t come close to the excruciating pain radiating throughout her body now. Her mind was fleeting, blurred—all of her previous anxieties crashing back; she was senseless, she couldn’t fight them off.

“I can’t,” she finally whispered. “I can’t do this; I can’t be a mother.”

Childe tucked her hair back, leaning in close, lips nestled on her forehead. “There is absolutely no one in this world that compares to you,” he whispered back. “It’s terrifying, I know, but if there’s anyone that can be an amazing mother, it’s you.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen you defeat armies of men, monsters, and gods—”

“Childe, that’s different—”

“—and I’ve seen how brilliantly resilient you are. You would stop at nothing for those you love.”

“Ahem,” Mona coughed awkwardly.

Lumine and Childe looked at her.

She looked away, bashful. “You have this strange ability to have patience, and to care for everyone,” Mona said. “Even when they’re difficult and stubborn...like me.” She finally looked back at Lumine. “I think...I think anyone would be lucky to have you as their mother, Lumine.”

Lumine sniffled loudly. “Mona…”

“Now, now,” the mage interrupted. “Let’s get this on the way. I suppose being an aunt would be fun…”

“She’s right,” Childe added. “I thank the stars everyday that I’m going to be able to love and cherish this child with you. There’s no one else that could ever come close to you, Lumi.”

Tears fully rained from Lumine’s eyes. Slowly, she began to nod.

They were right. She knew herself more than capable. And she wasn’t going to be alone. Even with her fears, she had her loved ones there to support her. Together, they would be strong enough for anything.

I...I can do this.

“Thank you, both,” she breathed. She reached out, putting her hand in Childe’s. “I love you.”

He smiled at her. “I love you too.” He kissed her before kneeling by her feet.

“Deep breathes,” Childe told her. “Then push, okay?”

She nodded, taking in a lungful of air.

Breathe, Lumine, breathe.

Breathe.

PUSH.

Lumine let out a sharp cry, pushing with every ounce of strength left in her body, nerves excruciatingly igniting all over. The trees swayed as the wind picked up around the three.

Pleasepleaseplease—

“Lumine,” Mona murmured, glancing up at the leaves. “Your energy is leaking out.”

Lumine stopped pushing for a second, forehead slick with sweat. “Wha-What does that mean?”

Mona pointed at swirls of Anemo energy forming above, leaves and branches beginning to snap off. “It may very well mean you might level this entire forest.”

Oh no… “I-I can’t control it right now,” Lumine said.

“Can you form a seal of some sort?” Childe asked.

The astrologist bit her lip. “I can certainly try.” She grabbed Lumine’s hand then nodded.

Taking in another deep breath, Lumine started pushing again. Both her and Mona winced as Lumine squeezed their hands together. A blue glow emitted lightly from her body—Mona’s magic—and she felt her elemental energy rattling in her veins.

“You’re doing great, Lumi,” Childe said over her panting. “You’re almost there.”

Almost...there!

Lumine screamed as she felt a final wave of pain, and the intense release of pressure.

Then, a cry.

Not hers, however. The pitched wailing of a baby.

She relaxed back, just listening to the crying as Childe and Mona shuffled around, checking on the baby.

It’s here.

She looked down at her feet where Childe was wrapping the baby in his gray jacket. He was smiling, his blue eyes blissfully aglow.

He carried the bundle to Lumine. “A son,” he told her. The baby was placed in her arms.

For the first time ever, Lumine looked down at her son.

My son.

“He’s so small,” she said, smoothing down his head of light hair. She held him close to her heart, and the crying quieted down. His tiny eyes opened, bleary blue hues taking in the world.

Her heart ached as it swelled with overwhelming emotion. Seeing this tiny creature, this life she carried for many months—a product of her and Childe’s love and passion—she knew she already loved him, that yes, she would give her all to protect him: her new family.

Childe wrapped his arms around her shoulders, looking down at their son as well. “You did it,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.

“Congratulations,” Mona said. “The battle isn’t over quite yet.”

Lumine looked up at her friend. “What do you mean?”

Mona raised a brow. “There is another child, isn’t there?”

…

What?

Both Lumine and Childe stared at the astrologist blankly.

“How do you know?” Childe asked.

“Oh, Archons, you really didn’t know,” Mona responded, panicked. “When I was using my magic to seal away Lumine’s elemental energy, I felt the two different life forms—it’s twins.”

!!!

Lumine felt her muscles tense as her body prepared for another delivery. She let out a gasp, looking up at Childe to confirm, yes, there is another baby.

“Hold the baby,” he said to Mona, moving back down to Lumine’s feet.

Mona gently took the baby into her arms, a look of uncertainty scrawled on her face.

BOOM!

There was a thunderous strike of lightning right next to the group; as the dust settled, Scaramouche stepped out of the fog, purple electricity crackling all over his body.

“Would you look at that,” he growled, eyes narrowing in on the newborn. “Another body to dispose of.” A wicked grin pulled at his lips. “I was going to kill you all quickly, but now I think I’m going to make it slow. And tortuous.”

Childe stood, eyes dark. “Mona, keep Lumine safe.”

Then, he launched towards the other Harbinger, becoming engulfed in electricity as well. The two impacted, an explosion resonating around them, and Childe stepped out from the smoke, his Foul Legacy transformation completed.

Over the deafening sounds of blades crashing, Mona took the cape from under Lumine’s head, laying it under her body. She spoke to Lumine, “Are you ready to start pushing?”

Lumine shook her head feverishly. “I can’t.” Not without Childe.

“You must,” her friend said. “You can’t help him until you do.”

Lumine’s body locked up in pain with another contraction. “Okay,” she strained out.

Mona nodded, conjuring a glob of water, then placing Lumine’s child on it. “It’s the only bassinet I can make right now.”

“Can you still help seal my energy?”

“Of course.” Mona knelt by Lumine’s feet. “Are you ready?”

Lumine swallowed hard, then nodded. After taking in many deep breaths, she mustered all the remaining strength in her body to push.

A labored cry exhaled from her body, every fiber in her body praying for it all to stop.

“It’s almost out,” Mona encouraged. “Just a bit more!”

The edges of her mind blurred. She imagined her and Childe, living their lives peacefully with their two children, watching lovingly as they skipped around in fields of flowers. Aether would walk up, greeting his little nieces and nephews, waving joyfully at Lumine. Her friends—Mona, Xiangling, Zhongli, and countless others—would take turns coming to visit, to see them and their happy little family in their happy little home.

It was such a lovely dream.

Tears ran down her face, and Lumine pushed just one last time.

…

The familiar sound of a newborn’s cries filled the air once more. Lumine fell back, laying down in the dirt, the sight of tangled tree canopies above returning to her vision.

“A girl,” Mona said, carefully wrapping her cape around the baby. She stood, carrying the little girl to Lumine.

BOOM!

The two women snapped their attention back to the fight, watching as Childe’s armor shattered around him. He fell, kneeling, and gasping for breath.

Despite her exhausted body, Lumine scrambled up. “Childe!”

“You’ve grown so weak, Tartaglia,” Scaramouche spat. “You’re out of practice. Too focused on your meaningless family,” he mocked.

“Run,” Childe gasped out weakly to Lumine.

Scaramouche slammed his foot into Childe’s head, cackling as the Eleventh Harbinger fell down.

Something stirred in Lumine’s body.

“I think,” Scaramouche said, turning to Lumine, “I’m going to kill your children first. Right in front of you. How does that sound?”

Something old, ancient—something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

“Shield everyone,” Lumine said lowly to Mona. In response, Mona gave a small nod, grabbing the two children, and making her way to Childe inconspicuously.

Scaramouche stalked closer to Lumine. “Are you going to try and fight me?” Another cackle. “You’re even weaker than Tartaglia, especially after what you just went through.”

“You threatened my family,” Lumine nearly growled. “You hurt my family.” She raised her arm, materializing her blade. Quicker than before.

“And you’re going to pay for that,” she finished, her veins ignited with ancient energy.

He smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”

There was an overwhelming ringing in Lumine’s ears as she felt the liquid power coarse through her body. The sensation extended through her back, bursting outwards, until...a pair of wings had formed. Her pair of wings.

Her skin was aglow, a golden haze enveloping her, her wings, and her sword.

It was her old power.

Her powers had come back.

“What is the meaning of this?” Scaramouche sneered.

Lumine glanced over at Mona, the two babies in her arms, hovering over Childe, who was stirring awake. A faint blue glow surrounded them—Mona’s barrier.

She turned her attention back to Scaramouche, who was charging up an Electro attack of his own.

“It’s no use,” Lumine said, echoing his words back to him. She leapt up into the air, flying far above him as he cursed below.

She closed her eyes, thinking of her friends, of Aether, her children, her one true love, Childe—her family.

The sword illuminated, crackling with golden arcs of energy. Then, she plunged down.

A sonic boom erupted around her as she landed, acres of dirt and trees uprooting in the explosion. The mountains shook, the clouds parted, and Lumine used the last bit of her energy to blast the dust away.

Laying before her, lifeless, was Scaramouche.

I did it.

She quickly looked around for her family, crying in relief seeing Mona, Childe, and the babies safely protected.

She felt her ancient power drain from her, and she collapsed on her knees as the pain and exhaustion funneled back into her body.

“Lumine!” she heard Childe shout.

“Childe…,” she responded, voice thin.

Then, her vision went black.

* * *

There was the crying of a baby. No, two babies. It sounded so familiar, yet foreign to Lumine.

She was in a black void, looking around for the source of the crying. Whoever they were, she knew they needed her. And she needed to protect them.

Lumine groggily opened her eyes, the black void from her dreams dissipating. Her vision adjusted, and she realized she was laying in her and Childe’s bed, back at their mountain cottage. Muffled through the walls, she heard the crying of her children, and the voice of Childe trying to calm them.

She slowly sat up, the bed creaking under her. At the sound of movement, Mona stirred awake from the corner.

“You’re awake!” she shouted. She went to the door, throwing it open, and yelling, “She’s awake, she’s awake!”

Lumine blinked at her, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, while Mona came to her side.

“How are you feeling?” her friend asked.

Lumine stretched a bit. “Very sore.”

“Hmph. I would expect so; you really did level that forest.” Mona looked out the window. “After exerting that kind of power, you should most certainly be dead.” She bit her lip. “But I am glad you are not.”

“Thank you, Mona. For all your help,” Lumine said with a small smile.

The astrologist flung her blue hair over her shoulder. “You are very welcome,” she said, returning the smile.

“You never did tell me why you were here of all places.”

“Ah, yes, that.” She folded her arms across her chest. “After our encounter with that Harbinger, I decided to track his movements—just to make sure he wouldn’t cause any more trouble.” She opened her hydromancy chart, looking over the sigils. “As fate would have it, I followed him here, to you.”

The wailing of the newborns drew closer, and Childe appeared in the doorway, two wriggling bundles in his arms.

His hair was rustled, dark bags under his eyes, and his usual pressed attire was wrinkled and disheveled.

Archons, Lumine loved him.

It was obvious to her that while she was knocked out cold, he had been taking care of their newborn children all on his own. Which was probably the furthest thing from easy...

He gave her a smile, tired at the edges, but filled with love all the same—and she gave him the same smile, yearning to embrace him and their new family.

Mona mumbled something about going to observe the sky for a while, and slipped out of the room as Childe sat on the edge of the bed.

Wordlessly, he placed the two babies in Lumine’s arms, and their cries were instantly quelled.

“Now that’s something I haven’t heard in forever,” he sighed. “Silence.”

“I hope it wasn’t unbearable.” She looked down at her babies, gently smoothing their little light hairs. It would never cease to amaze her, the overwhelming love and joy she felt looking at her twins. Looking at their tiny hands, their tiny feet, seeing their little breaths—any anxiety or fears she had felt before disappeared into thin air.

Childe wrapped his arm around Lumine, looking down at their children as well. “The only thing that was unbearable was not having you around,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Lumine nodded. “I couldn’t imagine doing this without you.” She leaned into Childe’s chest. “I’ll always be around,” she assured.

“And I’ll always be with you,” he answered. “Our little family.”

Lumine smiled, the happiest of tears coming to her eyes.

“Our little family.”

* * *

[hawksugarbaby]

Tokoyami x reader- Big city, small pond

Fluff + Nature took back the earth AU combined with fantasy AU

You didn't take a breath before sinking back down from the side of the moss overrun pavement into the flooded road, deepened after many years of abrasion and sinkholes popping open intermittently. Deep enough for anything to swim in at least, though clementine traffic cone's still floated and drain covers for manholes had rusted and chipped away at the side. Litter still filled the bottom of the sinkhole but had all seemed to collect in the deep abysses. Metal benches were still bolted to the floor but had new river weeds and algae wrapped around each section of the skeleton but it was a wonderful place for anything to sit.

Your gills split open on your neck and you walked the depths of the "river" the reflection of miraculously working street signs for takeaways that greedy humans reopened over and over no matter how many times mother nature reclaimed the earth. Your finger's brushed the scales of an orange carp darting past you and you kicked your leg's out, turning them to an iridescent (f/c) fishtail, ending and transforming to human at the hips, your skirt clung to the tail under the water and your flowy t-shirt billowed out when you moved sharply, turning a corner or halting quickly to watch something.

Your tail kicked up rocks and dust which swirled in the water and settled at the bottom again as sediment. You scoffed at a human dropping a paper wrapper into the water that turned too much and landed on the floor, a few balls of red and white paper landing on your arm then tumbling off.

You popped your head up feeling a lily pad drooping down over your hair and covering your right eye. "Hey!" you shouted but the human was on his knees looking into the water in annoyance "Excuse me! I don't appreciate your wrapper dissolving in my river!" you shouted and he lifted his head, ruby eyes fluttered to you pulling the lily pad off your head, flopping it back onto the water where it drifted further away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop it, I was trying to find it now" he sighed in annoyance at the knowledge it was gone. He sat cross legged at the side and tilted his head looking at you. "Mermaid?" it was definitely supposed to be a question but it sounded more like a surprise than curiosity. You rolled your eyes and repeated his word in a mocking tone "oh mermaid? No. I'm not a mermaid, I'm a nymph obviously. How would you like it if i just assumed you were a crow!" you crossed your arms, your tail fins swishing back and forth impatiently. "I suppose I'd be most irritated" he scratched the back of his neck and hung his head.

You sighed swimming closer to the edge and rested your forearms on the kerb next to him. "It's whatever. Not like you city folk would know a difference anyway. Mother nature did all she could to reclaim the earth as hers and you still poison us with your plastic and oil and deforestation" you listed the minimum amount of things humans had done yet it was still enough for him to feel a guilty punch to the gut. "I'm sorry for what my species did to the earth" he spoke on behalf of a race that didn't care. The human race. But it was nice to hear an apology for once instead of someone claiming it wasn't their fault.

"My name is tokoyami fumikage" he held out his hand and you took it, the web's between your fingers stretching out slightly and you analyse him curiously "(y/n) macdonald." he nodded and smiled at you politely "You have a very nice tail" he said unsure how to continue your conversation, it wasn't like he could just ask you to get up and join him for a dinner and get to know you, though honestly he wasn't sure how nymphs worked, for all he know maybe you could? "Thank you. It's my favourite colour!" you grinned swishing it behind you and hopping on the edge on the path with all your strength.

You kicked your tail out and they transformed into legs dipping into the water and creating ripples around your calves and he stared amazed at your split appendages, skirt still hugging your thighs nicely and your t-shirt stuck to you like a puppy with abandonment issues.

"The difference by the way. This is the difference between mermaids and nymphs. Mermaids are usually really rude too" you explained, picking a string of riverweed from your leg and flinging it into the water to drift along the shore or sink to the bottom. He hummed in response since he couldn't agree or disagree, for now he would stay a neutral party unwilling to get on your bad side again. "I see. How did you end up here anyway aren't nymphs supposed to be out in like... rivers and lakes?" he queried and you sighed looking at the murky water sadly, missing the feel of your own river. "Uh, when mother nature decided to shift stuff around and the big tsunami flood thingy came it flooded my river and we all ended up somewhere different. Maybe it was on purpose but I ended up here" you swung your legs in the water tapping the stone ground with your fingers.

You missed the smell of earth surrounding your crystalline lake running off into smaller streams and your favourite river for finding pebbles in. you missed the fluffy flax seed that stuck to you when you were drying off in the long grass by the bank and that floated on top of the water for fish to pop up and suction down into their stomach. You missed your friends mostly, almost sisterly bonds between all of you now severed and spread across all of japan.

"I miss home really. For all I know my friends could be home waiting for me" you exhaled deeply and tokoyami sadly glanced at you wondering how far your legs could take you. "What if I helped you get home?" he asked and you jumped excitedly. "You would really help me! Don't you have school or friends or anything? Are you sure you can help?!" you blabbered for a minute or so about how inconvenient it would be and how you didn't know how far you would have to go until he stopped you. "My school is on break right now so I have about 2 months off before I need to go back. Most of my friends are going to look for a cause of the reclamation too since half our school is unusable since it started so I have no qualms helping you"

You jumped up and down giddy and dove back in the water splashing him with water that rolled off his feathers, soaking the choker on his neck and you apologised. "I'm just so excited to go home! Thank you so much!"

And so began your long journey to your home. You passed hundreds of abandoned buildings crumbling to nothing with vines twisted up the sides and supersized branches through the shattered windows, ivy had crawled up the walls of every structure you passed and you talked aimlessly along the way. "So mother nature is-" "a goddess inside the earth" tokoyami nodded at your explanation and looked around in understanding. One of her creations had destroyed the other, the necessary one, and she was proving that humans were expendable. "I'd be pissed too if my home was being filled with gross plastic." you giggled and smiled thankful that someone finally took you as sane, you were tired of truth seekers who didn't like the truth they gave them. They had too much blame on them so they went to find something else.

A month flew by quickly, you spent as much time swimming along streams that you could but of course not every path was filled with water, so it was a long journey for someone who wasn't used to walking barefoot on the actual ground for huge periods of time.

"What are your friends like?" Tokoyami asked, pushing a bish out the way for you to crouch through and you hummed, "caring. They care about a lot of things like climate change, obviously, but also silly stuff like um the best wood to carve you and your significant other's name in, or which leaves are the shiniest at golden hour. We have to make up fun little games or we'd just get bored" you smiled and he chuckled. They sounded similar to you, pointing out tiny details on your quest like spiderwebs covered in dew hidden in the grass, or perfectly round stone's that were shiny in the sun, it made sense you wanted to get back to them so badly.

The trees opened up to an empty circle of grass and a circle not much smaller of water, flowing over the sides of the bowl into the grass and streams wound along into their own segments of the forest. "Home... i'm home! I'm home i'm home i'm home!" you cried jumping up and down and sprinting into the gorgeous blue water and immediately your legs changed to your (f/c) tail, glowing in the sun as you floated on your back and soaked up the water. "Come in come in!!" you shouted while waving at tokoyami.

You had taken rest stops at old hotels and decrepit houses to check for water and of course food and sleep but there was enough civilization along the way to keep you going. But tokoyami hadn't had a bath, a real bath, one he didn't have to fill with a showerhead, in a month and god he wanted to relax desperately.

He peeled off his sticky t-shirt and hung it over a tree branch dipping into the water and relaxing immediately. "This is surprisingly warm" he muttered watching you splash around joyfully and sunk under the water. It was so clean he could keep his eyes open and watch you dip in and out of the water bouncing like a dolphin.

You swam over to him and he sat back up shaking the water out of his feathers and you smiled hugging him tightly "thank you for taking me here. I wish I could help you get back home but I don't think i'd make it back here myself. You sighed and he shook his head. "It's okay, I have other ways of getting home. I don't have to leave right now. I'll stay for another fortnight but then I probably have to go" he looked at his phone glad he had data and could contact hawks at the click of a button.

In 14 days that went by like rapids over rocks tokoyami had to say goodbye and hawks picked him up from your spot on the way back from a mission. 2 of your friends had also found their way home so you weren't lonely and tokoyami had promised to visit. "Okay and be safe home okay! I hope I see you soon!" you shouted as hawks lifted him into the air and he nodded in a silent agreement and waved.

"See you soon (y/n)!" he shouted back and you jumped in a wave as they disappeared into the bright blue sky reflected in your lake.

"Sooo..." one of your sisters sidled up next to you and you blushed "don't even! I know what you're going to say" you shoved her away and she laughed at you teasintly.

"Soo..." hawks started and tokoyami rolled his eye's "no hawks"

[latinasmoak]

the sweetest life (and the loving is easy when you’re with me)

tumblr version:

rating: mature

tags: no warnings, mutual pining, idiots in love, jealousy, colin my dramatic king, penelope is confused

Chapter Two: Strawberry Crème Brûlée p. 1

For the first time in his life, Colin Bridgerton wasn’t hungry.

Nevermind that he had invited himself over to Eloise’s and Penelope’s flat with the singular intent of sneaking in some sweets made by his favorite homebaker. All of that was swept aside, his gigantic appetite becoming non-existent at the sight displayed in front of him.

The easy upturn of his lips, a smile famous for charming all the women in his life, quickly vanished. The glimmer of mischievousness in his eyes dimmed, the words he had prepared to announce his arrival got caught in his throat; because who the hell was that man towering over Penelope in the kitchen? Why was this stranger whispering so close to her? And why was she giggling? At the sweet sound of her laughter Colin inexplicably felt a mad rush of... frustration. The urge to go and physically separate the two was overwhelming and he almost took another step inside the tiny kitchen when what happened next made his stomach drop.

The prat, after taking a spoonful of whatever it was in front of them, moaned and smiled brightly at Penelope before leaning down for a hug. Worse still, Penelope with her eyes alight with joy, happily reciprocated the embrace and wrapped her arms around him.

Colin couldn’t even begin to understand all the tumultuous feelings inside him at the sight. All he had were questions upon questions running through his mind. Who was he? How long has this been going on? Since when did she bake for someone else?  Colin shook his head as if the simple act would brush away all the unanswered questions cluttering his mind.

When he had decided on his last minute trip to Greece over two months ago, he never imagined he’d be coming home to this. Since his friendship with Penelope deepened, he found that his attention to his phone increased dramatically. What simply started off as links for recipes, became chats where they talked about anything and everything. That's when he knew that Penelope Featherington wasn’t just his family friend. She was his best friend. So why, during all the countless chats they shared while he was away, did she never mention the fact that she was dating?  

As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of all his queries, the thought of walking in and having to witness the apparently happy couple up close, made him physically ill. He just knew he couldn’t act as if all was well. Colin was struggling to come up with reasons as to why this new information didn’t bring him happiness for his friend. If anyone deserved to be in a loving relationship it was Penelope. He knew that. So why did the mere thought of her being in one make his jaw clench?

It was a small comfort that his arrival wasn’t expected. To the entirety of his family he was still in Iceland, he had made the last minute decision to cut his trip two weeks short, and instead of alerting them, Colin had been giddy at the thought of surprising them all. It had been a spur of the moment decision to drop by Eloise and Penelope’s first, before settling in the room set up for him at his mum’s place. Next time however, he’d be sure to give a heads up. He couldn’t bear to go through this again. To come unannounced and heaven forbid, see them in a more compromising position. Just the thought of it felt like someone suckerpunched him in the gut. Colin simply and quietly turned around and walked away.

“Penelope you are a genius!”  

Phillip Crane moaned as the blackberry cream melted on his tongue. He finished his spoonful of the delicious filling the lovely redhead was making before continuing his praise.

“Eloise is going to love this. I can’t even begin to thank you enough for helping me out.”

Though he was never one to initiate grand displays of physical affection, Phillip couldn’t help but reach out and hug Penelope with the utmost gratitude. Her help in his grand plan to convince Eloise that it was time to declare their relationship to their respective families was invaluable. He wanted her to meet his older brother and he wanted to finally get to know the alphabet personally. He knew that without Penelope’s support, his ideas would have never manifested as grandly as they did. That, and she had already agreed to watch his twins overnight while he wooed Eloise on a weekend getaway. If anyone needed proof that Penelope was on her way to sainthood, they only needed to learn that she volunteered to take care of his little hellions. Thank god for angels on earth.

“All you have to do is make sure my best friend is happy,”

Penelope disengages from the hug and takes a step back, making sure to look up into his eyes. The seriousness of her following words could not be ignored. She may be tiny, but the protective love she held for Eloise shrouded Penelope with unmistakable power. She could be a threat if the need arose.  

“Because if she’s miserable, or heaven forbid hurt, I will personally ensure that you will be too.”

Penelope’s voice maintained its sweet inflection, while her blue eyes turned into an icy glare. Phillip gulped before nodding solemnly.

“She’s the most magnificent woman I've ever met. If I'm the fool who makes her miserable, I deserve whatever torment you deem appropriate.”  

The ice in her demeanor melted as Penelope swooned on behalf of her friend. She patted Phillip on the chest in approval before focusing on the various ingredients before her. She had planned to make Eloise’s favorite fruit tarts but with a twist.

“I’m glad we are in agreement! Now back to the sweets. I can recreate this cream for the tarts, all I need is more berries and those edible flowers you were talking about earlier! You will have to be in charge of dinner, I can bake but cooking still eludes me.”

Penelope herself was more than happy to help Phillip in his quest of making his relationship with her best friend public knowledge. He had been smart enough to realize early on in his relationship with Eloise that Penelope’s opinion was of the utmost importance. So he tried to be friendly, even when his stoic demeanor could often be misconstrued as snobbish elitism. Penelope was keen enough to know there had to be something about him that held Eloise’s attention. In the end, they ended up bonding over literature, -though Eloise loved to tease that it was a miracle he read anything outside of his botanical interests- and gardening. Phillip soon began to gift Penelope with the excess fruit and herbs he grew in his own little greenhouse so she could turn them into magical bites of perfection.

Sworn to secrecy, Penelope never hinted or uttered a word of his existence to the other Bridgertons and in the end, the only beings who knew of this relationship were his twins and herself. Penelope was excited for the secret to be out! It was alarming how often she found herself wanting to share the news. She wanted to join in on the inevitable teasing, she was eager to brag about the fact that she knew this secret before any of Bridgertons, and she was ready for someone to complain alongside her about how sickenly sweet they were with one another. She often imagined Colin being quick to tease or annoy Eloise about it... and just like that, Penelope felt her heart ache. As thoughts of Colin were known to do.

She missed him. It was alarming how much she missed him. He's been gone before so she really had no excuse to act as if this were new, but then again, before the eclair incident she had never spent so much uninterrupted time with him. He had spoiled her with his singular attention. They still texted each other almost every day but it wasn’t the same. She had gotten used to his physical presence. The way he towered over her, often helping her get things off the top shelf. The way he would sing her a song as he cleaned the dirty dishes and she would try and harmonize with him as she dried them. She also missed his chaotic energy in her kitchen, even when it could annoy her at times. The way she would need to slap his hands away to prevent him from dipping his finger in the raw batter or when she would have to take away the bag of chocolate chips to ensure there were enough for the cookies she planned to bake. He could never stay still but it was always such fun and there was always a delicious snack at the end of the night as a reward for all their hard work. He might never love her the way she loves him, but she had gotten greedy, soaking up all the moments he freely gave her and now she was going through withdrawals. Oh Colin, how am I ever going to get over you? Do I even want to?  

After ensuring everything was going as planned, and shaking thoughts of Colin out of her mind, Penelope shooed Phillip out. Eloise was soon to return and she didn’t want the surprise to be spoiled. Penelope baking alone is no longer an odd sight, but if Eloise came home to her boyfriend being there unexpectedly, she would stop at nothing to get the whole truth.

A single beep from her phone alerted Penelope to an incoming message. Her heart picked up in pace as her anticipation rose. It's been a few days since she’s heard from Colin. The longest bout of silence since he left two months ago. Penelope took a deep breath before swiping the lockscreen away. Immediately her shoulders drooped, and she tried to temper her disappointment when she noticed that the message was from her baby sister.

Felicity: hey pen, the love of your life came back early!

Felicity: it was a shock to the whole fam, hyacinth even canceled our movie night! something about blue gifts or whatever.

Felicity: anyways, just thought you should know 😇

The initial joy at the news of his early return was quickly marred with the confusion over the total silence on his end. Did she do something to upset him? Or maybe she was making a big deal out of nothing. She really needed to stop expecting him to update her on his personal matters as if she was his girlfriend. It wasn’t fair to put those expectations on him, and it wasn’t fair that she kept disappointing herself because of her daydreams.

Penelope ignored her phone, not giving Felicity the satisfaction of adamantly protesting her feelings when they both knew she was not off the mark. Instead she pulled out a recipe she had been eyeing for weeks now. She had been waiting for Colin to come back before attempting to make it. Only she would spice it up and make it with strawberries. She knew that he had a fondness for them and she wanted this treat to be special, to be more than the usual standard.

Strawberry Crème Brûléé

She was tempted to reach out to him and ask him if he wanted to join her while she baked it, but she thought better of it. Surely the trip back home must have been exhausting and whatever energy he did have, must have been depleted after a dinner with his family, a boisterous lot that they were.

Looking over the recipe, Penelope noticed that it called for the creme brulee to chill overnight. She smiled as this offered the perfect solution, tonight she would bake the night away and keep her mind busy, and tomorrow she would invite him over and hope that she was simply imagining any weirdness she felt over the sudden silence. Grinning to herself, Penelope nodded decisively and set out to make a delicious strawberry compote.

-

Colin woke up moody, frustrated and tired.

Sleep evaded him all night; he had been plagued with nightmarish situations, each one of him of losing his best friend, of losing Pen. The more he thought about it, the more it terrified him. Penelope having a boyfriend meant that those late night baking sessions would come to an end, the constant trips to other bakeries would not be as frequent, and while Colin was sure that Penelope wasn’t the type to shun her friends in favor of her relationship, Colin wasn’t sure he could stomach the thought of being around her while she was kissing someone else. When she should be kissing me.

Colin paled as the thought crossed his mind, a thought that should not exist when Penelope was only a friend. Just a friend, friends don’t think about kissing their beautiful friends.  

Although now he couldn’t stop thinking about how plump her lips were, especially after nervously biting them while she waited for his verdict on her sweets. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked? He would have to lean down to reach them but he could already imagine himself holding her closer, pressing himself against her soft plump curves and cupping her face. Lightly biting her bottom lip before using his own tongue to soothe the sting. He wondered if she would simply gasp and let him use that to his advantage, or if she would bite him back, Penelope was unpredictable afterall, he would never know what to expect from her...

Colin groaned as pure lust slammed into him the more he thought about Penelope. He laid back in shock over how quick his mind was, to turn against him like that, but it was like a pandora’s box. Now that it was open, things would never be the same. Colin couldn’t help but look back and notice all the little things about her that made her shine. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and how when she blushed it was obvious for the world to see on her normally milky skin. The way she would be the first to share her food and would always offer encouraging words when needed. Colin thought of her laugh, and how loud and contagious it was, or how her bottom lip would tremble as she tried not to cry when she accidentally burnt or cut herself. All these moments rushed through his head and it killed him that someone else was learning these things about her right this very second.

Yes, her voluptuous figure, tiny stature and dark red curls were attractive on their own, but paired with her intelligent blue eyes, witty humor and overall sweetness, it was no wonder she was taken. It was a miracle it hadn’t happened sooner! How could he have been so blind? If he had never gone on his most recent trip, would he have been able to stop it from happening?

A subtle buzzing on the bedside table alerted him to his incoming messages. He blindly reached out, not even bothering to use any excess energy when all he wanted to do was waste away in bed. It’s what he was good at apparently, wasting time.

His heart began to accelerate when he noticed that it was Penelope.

Pen: a little birdy told me that you are back home.

Pen: welcome back 🥳

Pen: i was going to text you later in the day but I have something exciting to share with you!

Pen: knowing you, you’ve probably already had breakfast by now, or you're about to! come to my place right after! see you soon.

Colin could feel the cold brittle fingers of dread latch on to him. Weighing him down and chilling him to the bone. He had just come to the startling realization that he kind of, sort of liked his friend as more than just a friend and she was going to tell him all about her new relationship. Any fleeting hunger he might have felt was chased away by the churning in his stomach. And even though a large part of him wanted to make up an excuse, any excuse to get out of this sure to be painful encounter, avoiding Penelope Featherington after having spent so much time integrating his life with hers, would be like wishing it never rained in London, absolutely impossible. Taking a deep breath, Colin finally got up out of bed and went about preparing for what he was sure to be, the worst day of his life.

-

As soon as Penelope received a text from Colin, letting her know that he was on his way, Penelope pulled out two of the chilled ramekins from her fridge. She also pulled out the homemade whipped cream she had made last night, a couple of fresh strawberries and the turbinado sugar. She was quick with the knife and sliced up all the strawberries, ridding herself of the green tops and setting the rest aside once finished. She had gone all out and gotten herself a kitchen torch for the sole purpose of making that crunchy top layer that made creme brulees so fun to eat.

She was excited to have Colin try it. She had originally intended to call him over later in the day but then remembered she’d be taking care of the twins. Seeing as she didn’t want to have to explain that, Penelope figured it was best to call him now, she was just glad that he hadn’t made any morning plans already.

When Colin finally walked into her kitchen making use of the spare key, it only took a split-second to realize that something was off with him. Penelope used a kitchen towel to pat her hands dry before walking towards him. She tried to catch his gaze, but it seemed as if he was looking around for someone. Her head tilted slightly in confusion, Penelope wondered who he could possibly be looking for, surely he was aware that on Saturday mornings Eloise had brunch with his mum and sisters?

There was something downtrodden about him and the urge to comfort him came at her so fast, she was unable to resist. She didn’t really want to resist anyways. Opening her arms wide she pulled him into a hug, pleasantly surprised when he returned her embrace with gusto.

“It’s so good to see you! Am I being silly if I admit that I missed you?”

Penelope murmured into his chest. He was so damn tall, she wondered if he even caught what she was saying.

-

“Well I missed you too, so we can just be silly together.”

Colin had meant for that to come out in an upbeat, charming reply, but his body had a mind of its own, and instead he simply squeezed her tighter, he dipped his head close to hers and he softly admitted that she was no more silly than he. In fact he could have gone on to admit that he was more than silly, he was a damn fool for letting her get away, for not realizing that the feelings he had for her were more than just platonic. He wasn’t sure if it was love, but he knew that it could grow to be, it was all a moot point now, he wouldn’t even get the chance. So he held on, he breathed in her sugary sweet scent and wished that he could stay like this forever. Colin didn’t want to let go. How was he supposed to let go? In the end, he didn’t have to force himself to, she had pulled herself away.

-

As much as she would have loved to stay in his arms forever, the knowledge that something was wrong made her want to help him in whatever way she could. The way he clung to her let her know that whatever was ailing him was really serious. And she wanted to enjoy it, she wanted to close her eyes and melt in his embrace. But she felt guilty, deriving pleasure from his pain felt wrong. Knowing that food could at least partially help, Penelope withdrew from the hug and looked up at him, smiling at him softly as she tugged him closer to her counter.

“I made you something! When I found out you were back I just knew I needed to welcome you back home with style.”

“Pen, you didn’t have to do that.”

Colin rubbed the back of his neck, and Penelope wondered if the slight flush on his cheeks was him blushing or if she was just imagining things.

Penelope let go of Colin to make her way to her ramekins. She quickly and with minimal mess, poured two spoonfuls of the brown sugar on the top of the strawberry custard before spreading it around, covering the light pink creme from view.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,”

She grabbed the kitchen torch and turned it on, giggling at Colin’s alarmed reaction and wary eyes.

“Plus, I really really really  wanted to use this today.”

She directed the open flame on the sugar and giddily watched as the sugar melted and browned, turning itself into the perfect crust to crack. She felt the moment Colin stepped into her bubble, the way he was looking over her shoulder was a move he’d done in the past and she’s proud she no longer jumped or startled when he invaded her space. Her heart still races, but at least her body no longer expresses her shock at him being so close. In fact, Penelope was proud her hand was still steady. No accidental burnings yet. When the first creme brulee was finished she breathed a sigh of relief before swiftly moving to the second, finishing  that one too. Once both were done, she turned off the torch and grabbed the whipped cream, adding a generous spoonful on each, before finishing with the strawberries as a garnish.

“Ta da! A strawberry creme brulee. This is an experimental recipe so please be honest in your feedback. I think you’ll like it. I promise, no artificially flavored strawberries are found in this creme brulee!”

Penelope pushed his dessert closer to him as he had moved himself to the left of her during her explanation. She offered him a spoon and then grabbed hers. She wasn’t going to bite into it just yet, she was dying to see his reaction.

She watched as he cracked the top layer with his spoon, a satisfying snap resounding in the kitchen. He gave her a brief smile before dipping his spoon further in to capture some of the creme. Penelope flushed when she noticed his tongue lick around the spoon, not willing to miss a single bite. She just stood there, a little dazed as he dug in after that initial spoonful. She finally got ahold of herself and beamed at the way he devoured it. She managed to bite into her own and softly moaned when the velvety smooth creme melted on her tongue, the caramelized top adding the perfect crunchy texture to every bite. She had truly outdone herself.

So caught up in her own taste testing, Penelope never realized that Colin had turned stiff at the sound of her moans.  She couldn’t have known that such a little innocent sound had triggered a tsunami of misconceptions and angst. No, she didn’t know anything about the regrets swirling around Colin’s brain at the moment. She did, however, notice that he was leaning heavily on the counter, gripping the edges so tightly his knuckles appeared ghostly white.

“Colin what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick? You look a little pale…”

Penelope set her own dish down and quickly closed the small distance between them. She stood on her tiptoes so she could reach his forehead, he felt a little warm but nothing out of the ordinary. She cupped his face, wanting to get to the bottom of what was wrong.

“Colin look at me, please tell me. What happened? Did my food make you sick? Do you need to lie down?.”

Penelope lets go of his face to reach for his hands, she gently pulls his hands away from the counter, clasping them with her own. She holds them and squeezes softly, quietly letting him know that he can depend on her. She looks up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something, anything.

-

How could he begin to explain everything that was wrong?

It was a small comfort that he didn’t have to meet her significant other, but just knowing that moments like these, where he can stand over her shoulder and just see her doing something she loves would be an activity she would share with someone else. Someone else would get to hear her make those little moans, someone else would get to make them happen in a different setting. How does he tell her that it's killing something inside him to know that it won’t be him?  How does he begin to explain that he feels this possessive urge to steal her away and never let her out of his sight? He doesn’t even know where to start. He’s not even really sure that he should.

Before he can wave her worries away, before he can reassure her that her food would never make him sick, before he could pretend like he was just feeling off. Something in him takes over and all that comes out is the most important question that will guide him in regards to how he should treat Penelope Featherington.

“Are you happy?” is all that comes out, ragged in its intensity. Colin’s eyes burning with the need to know exactly how she felt.

Whatever Penelope was expecting, it was obvious from her reaction that this was not it.

“What?!”

Colin closed his eyes briefly, gritting his teeth as he gathered the bravery necessary for this inquisition. He opened them and this time he used her grip on his hands to his advantage, bringing them up to rest against his chest. He wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating for her.

“Are you happy? With him?”

|| CHAPTER THREE  ||  || AO3 ||

[bigskydreaming]

The multiverse trip trope, with the canon Batfam ending up in a No Capes AU, where their counterparts, being equally hyper-competent but having no secret identities to hide or vigilantism as the primary focus for channeling their energies into....are equally ridiculous to all vigilante versions of the Batfam, but in vastly different ways.

With no need to hide his athletic abilities or to try and distance himself from immediate association with his past acrobatics, Dick focuses his time and efforts on gymnastics after Bruce takes him in. He’s an Olympic gold medalist before he’s twenty, hailed for practically reinventing the nature of high-bar routines thanks to his innovative ways of melding elements of his former acrobatics with his gymnastics regimens. 

Because of his many medals and natural charisma, he’s also a highly sought after brand face, asked to endorse or act as a spokesmodel for all kinds of things. He takes a particular savage joy in having his revenge on society as a whole, for the grief they gave him growing up, between the jokes about his circus background and ‘garish’ ensembles he patterns after his old costumes. Each year, he himself quietly seeks out talented designers who because of their backgrounds and the elitism of the high fashion world, are only able to advance so far in that industry. 

Acting as a silent investor for them with the funds from his endorsement deals, he charms his way through backroom deals and opens the necessary doors to get his designers into the high profile fashion shows that can make designers’ careers, allowing them the much needed opportunities to showcase their designs and get them out into the world and in front of potential buyers. 

But in addition to their own designs, Dick then commissions the designers he patrons, to design for him the most absurd things they can come up with. The kind of high fashion wtf’s that Ugly Betty’s wardrobe department could only dream of making, and then making into a punchline. Design for me an outfit you wouldn’t even inflict on your most hated enemy, Dick says to them.

And each year they do, and Dick models those looks personally. Then he sits back with his siblings and cackles with malevolent glee as the snobby ‘it crowds’ of his generation later turn out in droves to purchase his ‘signature looks.’ Strutting around town in imitation of the poise and charisma he pulls off effortlessly - but those, no amount of money can buy, and given they’re the only reason Dick Grayson alone can get away with wearing this stuff and still look as good as he does when doing so - well, the socialite circles inevitably end up looking utterly ridiculous. The harder they try and sell it with artificial confidence that Page Six and talk show hosts see right through, the more they get shredded to pieces with scathing jokes and headlines that put anything they ever managed to come up with to shame.

Meanwhile, the revenue from their frenzied purchases of these ‘must-have’ looks of the season? More than enough to launch the careers of Dick’s designers, right up to the A-List, where Dick leaves them to do what they want and make the most of it, with his eternal gratitude for humoring him and his rich kid eccentricities. (Not that his designers haven’t all since long figured out the joke and gotten vindication of their own out of it, as the designers and buyers who tried previously to shut them out because of their humble backgrounds, now all rush to try and rip off their more out there and high profile ‘Dick Grayson Looks’ with their own versions, over-saturating that particular market demographic just as people start catching on that these designs were always doomed to fizzle without Dick wearing them himself......leaving Dick’s designers with an open, uncluttered path right to the demographics they actually want to sell to, with the designs nobody’s attempted to imitate yet because they were too busy keeping eyes glued to Dick’s peacock ensembles).

Bruce has long since given up expecting he’ll ever understand his various children without them making an effort to translate first.....so the first time he walks in on Dick, Jason and Duke watching E! with a focus they’ve never displayed for sports, and with the coffee table covered in so many papers and flow charts and graphs, the den looks more like a War Room rather than just three of his boys watching Entertainment Tonight with frightening intensity. 

Bruce just waits in the doorway for them to notice him and arches one eyebrow when they do. Oh, there’s a point to all of this, he’s sure. But damned if he can figure out on his own just what the hell it might be.

His eldest just beams at him with his thousand watt smile.

“Love me or hate me, they all want to be me,” Dick sing-songs. Then he shrugs innocently, as though that explains it all.

It doesn’t, Bruce is fairly certain.

“Why?” He asks somewhat plaintively, after his struggle to select one of the many, many questions buzzing in his head glitches on that one syllable and refuses to budge until he at least voices that much.

“We’ve been over this, B. Its part of our Twenty Seven Step Plan to Destroy the Upper Class,” Jason says impatiently, still jotting notes in pen on one of the graphs, eyes still locked on the TV. “God, its like you never listen, I fucking swear.”

“That running joke you two had when you were in high school?” Bruce asks blankly, focusing on his two eldest. Duke is paying absolutely no attention to him any way, leaning over to cross something out on the same graph Jason’s working on, scrawling some kind of correction while Jason nods like that makes total sense in whatever bizarre arithmetic they’re all working off of.

Dick sighs in the fond manner of a parent whose child has just done something particularly endearing. “You gotta admit, its kinda cute he still thinks we’re joking when we talk about class warfare.”

“Eh,” Jason grunts noncommittally. “Benjamin Button he is not.”

“If you boys don’t mind, could you do me a favor and make sure to clarify when you’re making fun of me? I have trouble spotting the insults otherwise,” Bruce says dryly.

“But that’s what makes it fun!” Duke says, beaming with his own version of Dick’s thousand watt grin. Equal in intensity, but where Dick’s tends to burst into being all at once like a supernova, Duke’s tends to sneak up on you, slowly increasing the illumination until you realize you’re blinking spots out of your vision and it hits you that you haven’t been able to see anything but blinding luminescence for awhile now, and you don’t even know for sure how long.

“Well how about just this once, you boys take pity on me and cut your old man a break,” Bruce says, still in tones as parched as Saharan dunes. “Explain what I’m looking at here as though I’m five.”

“Christ, B, you’re not freaking geriatric,” Jason mutters. “You’re only in your forties, its way too soon for you to try and milk the senility angle.”

“We’re documenting record of public reactions to the latest fashion crimes of Gotham’s A-List,” Dick cuts off Jason, taking the aforementioned pity on his father as he provides an explanation that is in no way helpful.

Bruce squints at the screen. “But aren’t those the same outfits you wore during your Fashion Week thing last month?”

“Well yeah, but on me they look good,” Dick shrugs.

“Don’t gloat,” Jason says to his brother. “It’s tacky.”

“Facts are facts,” Dick says without a hint of apology. “Lying in the name of false modesty would be the true dishonesty.”

“Incredible. You even manage to put a pious-sounding spin on being an egotistical shit,” Jason marvels. “How do you do that?”

Dick shrugs again. “It’s a gift.”

Bruce clears his throat. “And what’s all this documentation for, anyway?”

“Dick’s book,” Duke says matter of factly. Bruce would be flattered by his children’s apparent belief he can intuitively leap from one esoteric comment straight to an epiphany like some kind of goddamn gazelle - if he weren’t still so lost.

“Dick has a book? Since when? I thought Jason was the writer in this family,” Bruce frowns. “And I’m quite certain there was a big to-do made when you were all much younger, where it was decided that each of you would focus yourself on distinct pursuits not overlapping with any other siblings’, so as not to kill each other in your inevitable quest to be number one.”

“Well first off, Dad, if you couldn’t handle a little competition between your children, you shouldn’t have adopted competitive children,” Dick lectures absently, still scribbling away at those damn pages.

“Its not like you all came labeled with future character traits,” Bruce says crankily. They ignore him.

“And secondly, upon discovering that the agreement we all signed was the end product of carefully dropped hints aimed at making us believe we all came to the table of our own volition, when in fact, they were merely the machinations of the mastermind known as our meddling father,” Jason intoned, finally looking up at Bruce to raise one eyebrow at him significantly, “the Treaty of Wayne Manor’s South Family Room circa 2012, was thus deemed by all signatories to be fruit of the poisonous tree, and subsequently rendered null and void.”

Bruce’s frown deepens. “How did you figure that out? And why are you suddenly talking like a Bond villain?”

“Well it was mostly more of a theory until just now,” Dick beams at him. Dammit. You’d think he’d know better than to walk right into things like that by now. “But Tim had a hunch pretty much from the start, except then we all ended up branching out towards different interests anyway so it didn’t seem to matter that much, and we figured why not let you keep thinking you got a win there, you know?”

“I have the most thoughtful children.” 

“We do try,” Jason hums.

“We try,” Duke snorts. “You add snarky commentary.”

“That was implied.”

Duke rolls his eyes and rolls right past that. “And Jason’s talking like that because he’s got that book tour coming up in a couple weeks, and he’s test driving new Eccentric Author Aesthetics.”

“Gotta give the people what they want,” Jason shrugs. “My fanbase expects the precociously grumpy darling of the New York literary circuit to be baffling and unpredictable, I give them baffling and unpredictable.”

“And here I thought you’d said you hated your fanbase. And rather then giving them anything, last I heard you were claiming to be withholding your sophomore manuscript just to spite them,” Bruce says. His voice is still lost and wandering in the desert, not a hint of precipitation to be found. “In fact, I distinctly recall wanting to take you out to celebrate the rave reviews of your debut novel, the week of its release. Only you were busy having a diatribe about how ridiculous the reviews were and how nobody had any business calling the barely coherent linguistic finger paintings of an emotionally stunted twenty-one year old the ‘next great American novel’ and it called the entire slate of reviews’ credibility into question as any brains capable of producing thoughts that erroneous should be required to display a count of their individual brain cells before anyone even considers viewing any thought produced by them as potentially being credible.”

“And you thought he never listens,” Duke snickers at his older brother. “Sounds like a direct quote to me.”

Jason just shrugs again, not remotely moved. “Yeah but I hate everything, so its not like that really means anything. Also, I’m full of shit. I thought everyone knew that.”

“He’s not subtle,” Dick informs Bruce.

“Subtlety’s for losers,” Jason defends himself. “Like tact.”

Bruce clears his throat again. “Back to the matter of Dick’s book?”

“Oh, right!” Dick chirps. “I have a book. Well, will have. This is research for it.”

“So you are taking up writing after all?” 

“Hah!” Jason barks out loudly. “Dick can’t write for shit. He can’t even write a thank you card, forget about a whole fucking novel.”

“Umm, I can write, I merely choose not to,” Dick sniffs pointedly. Then he rolls his eyes in disgust. “And Jesus Christ, chill, Prince Passive Aggressive. I can’t believe you’re still making such a big deal about that. Let it go already.”

He and Jason both shoot quick looks over at Duke about two seconds after Dick’s last sentence. Duke looks up just in time to catch their glances darting away again.

“Hang on, why did you both look at me, like you thought I was about to start singing that stupid song from Frozen?” Duke frowns at them suspiciously. “You guys do know that I’m not Stephanie, right?”

“Yeah but you have been hanging around her an awful lot lately, and she’s contagious,” Jason points out. Duke’s frown deepens for a moment, but then it wings out of sight and he shrugs, perfectly at ease again.

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Anyway, its Dick’s tell-all book on Gotham high society,” Jason continues on. “I’ll be the one actually writing it of course. He’s just the pretty face getting slapped on the cover, but I mean, that’s the only reason people are gonna wanna buy it, so I’ll probably just phone it in anyway.”

Bruce focuses on the only part of that reveal he can handle at the moment. “Jay, you’re not remotely capable of ever phoning something in.”

“How dare you accuse me of having a work ethic. Rude and disrespectful. My reputation isn’t built to withstand that kind of slander.”

“And feel free to mock all you want, but my pretty face on that cover is what’s going to earn me my first SCPF,” Dick announces loftily.

Duke looks up. Opens his mouth. Shakes his head. Closes it. Looks back down. Sighs. Looks back up again. 

“Not that I don’t know better than to ask, but what the hell is an SCPF?”

“My version of an EGOT that I just made up while Jay was being offended by a compliment to his work ethic. Spokesmodel, cover model, print model, fashion model. The four cornerstones of the modeling world, which I will then have conquered, leaving me free to move on to other endeavors.”

Jason studies his older brother gravely. Then he shakes his head.

“Even as a complete and utter joke, that combination of words disgusts me. You make me physically nauseous sometimes, you know.”

“Another gift of mine, I suppose. I have so many,” Dick muses, leaning back and examining something on the chart he was scribbling on, as if trying to take in another angle for some no doubt ridiculous reason. Why were his children like this. 

“Before this migraine finishes settling in and pitches its tent for the night, anyone care to tell me just what exactly this tell-all will be telling?” Bruce sighs. It was never too early to start damage control when this particular combination of his kids were conspiring together.

“Oh, everything,” Dick says breezily. “Who had affairs, who embezzled from their companies, who bribed or blackmailed or bought off this or that. All kinds of juicy sordid stuff, real page turner stuff, you know? You’d think important people would do a better job of keeping high stake secrets all hush hush instead of dropping them all willy nilly at various galas over the years, but c’est la vie.”

“Its almost like there are potential hazards to condescendingly assuming the uneducated circus brat someone adopted as an obvious PR stunt, like, just can’t understand a lick of what people say around him, what with his thick foreign accent obviously conveying he just don’t know English words so good nope, nope, nopers,” Dick concludes merrily, a familiar sparkle in his eye. One that usually heralded social cataclysms to come.

“And so you’ve taken it upon yourself to warn the public of those potential hazards. Good for you, son,” Bruce says sardonically. Despite his best efforts, the corners of his lips keep tugging stubbornly upwards.

“Just trying my best to give back to the community that’s given me so much,” Dick shrugs in the closest approximation to an ‘aw shucks’ vibe that Bruce has ever seen his son manage in as long as he’s known him. Jason reaches over and smacks the back of Dick’s head.

“Hey!” The elder brother snaps back, rubbing the back of his head with wounded dignity. He glares at his smirking brother.

“My bad. I thought you were against false modesty. Just trying to help keep you honest, bro.”

Dick narrows his eyes at him. “Touche,” is all he says.

“Last question before I give up and admit defeat,” Bruce interjects before that escalates. As tends to happen in moments like the previous. With no limit to how long or how far that escalation might last. By his count, his two eldest boys were somehow still engaged in four entirely different extended, longterm feuds they seemed somehow able to treat as separate and distinct from each other, with one of those stretching all the way back a good ten years, and still no end in sight as far as anyone knew. 

How did they determine what fights would end in minutes and which warranted stretching out over a course of years? Bruce really couldn’t say. How did they manage to stop and start the same argument off and on for all that time, without letting the last-addressed state of the argument affect how they interacted when their fight was back on ‘pause’? No idea. How did they seem able to treat each different matter they fought about as its own distinct entity that had no bearing on anything outside that particular argument, with no overlap or cross-pollination as far as anyone else had ever been witness to, and why did they even bother doing so in the first place? God, Bruce dearly wishes he knew.

Unfortunately, for all that his entire horde of children often at times seem to exist on a wholly separate and private plane unreachable by the rest of humanity, Bruce’s first two children to fill the halls of Wayne Manor with laughs, screeches and occasional declarations of war and an intent to maim, dismember and murder - 

Well. They at times seemed to possess a language and extra senses unique just to them, and baffling to the entire rest of the world and their own siblings as well.

Oh well. At least Bruce could take some small comfort in Duke’s occasional glance of wary confusion, thrown towards one or both of his brothers when they weren’t looking.

“Yo, this is Planet Earth, hailing one eternally out of touch bachelor billionaire way up in the atmosphere,” Jason sharply cuts into Bruce’s distraction with a snap of his fingers. “Are you trying to milk the senility thing again? We’ve been over this. You need at least another decade of mileage before we’ll validate your senior citizen card.”

“Right.” Bruce rolls his eyes at his son, but shakes his head to clear it nevertheless. Ah, yes. “Yes. Indulge me, please. What exactly does what you’re watching have to do with Dick’s....tell-all, and how does whatever all of this is count as research?”

“Oh, we’re just keeping record of public shaming of every snobby rich jackass to buy one of the fashion monstrosities Dick wears at Fashion Week, only to then look utterly ridiculous and absurd when they try and wear it in public and everyone points and laughs,” Duke chimes in.

“I see,” Bruce says, his lips twitching again. “And this of course all ties back into class warfare and...what was it again...oh yes, the Twenty Seven Step Plan To Destroy The Upper Class?”

“That’s right,” Duke nods.

“I even know what the title is going to be already,” Dick smiles with bared teeth. “I’m going with: ‘Weapons of Choice.’“

“Of course, as I keep explaining to him, nobody gets final say on the title of their book, and there’s every chance the publisher will end up changing the title to something they pick,” Jason says with a pointed look at his brother. 

Dick’s willful obliviousness visibly deflects Jay’s arched gaze long before any point can hit and make an impact. “And as I keep explaining to him, if they try and change the title, I will simply explain to them that they are incorrect and it already has the perfect title and one can not improve upon perfection.”

Jason strangles a gutteral, incoherent growl before it can fully escape from his throat. “I want to throttle you.”

“I know,” Dick says sunnily.

“Well, as long as you’ve thought this through, which you clearly have, I have no doubt you’ll get the results you’re after,” Bruce says. Doubtfully. Though of what, he’s not entirely sure. His sanity, thinking that yes, half a dozen precocious, willful and utterly incomprehensible children, that’s the ticket, exactly what my life needs. Yes, that was probably the matter actually in doubt.

“Ugh, B, you’re not getting it,” Dick complains. He exchanges frustrated glances with his brothers. “He’s not getting it.”

“It’s not rocket science,” Jason says patiently. “Basic rule of street fighting....the most effective takedowns come from aiming at someone’s weakest point. Whenever possible, go for the throat. What’s the equivalent of the throat as far as Gotham’s upper class is considered? Public image.”

“Destroy their public image, destroy them,” Dick finishes cheerfully. “They crack, get egg on their face like the nursery rhyme says, and bam, Humpty Dumpty has a great fall and all the queen’s knights working as a team still can’t put them together again and while they’re distracted the pawns can slip past them and become queens!”

Jason stares at him. “I know what you’re doing and its not going to work.”

“What am I doing?”

“Deliberately mangling the fuck out of a bunch of different well known sayings that you know perfectly well how they really go, while doing that thing where you act like you’re the most airheaded ditz to ever live and have a brain that runs off of helium instead of oxygen like the rest of us. Because you know damn well how obnoxious that is to anyone who knows exactly how intelligent you really are and that you actually have a mind like a steel trap that remembers fucking everything, no matter how inane, which is fucking rude, because that’s wasted on you and also, stop it. I told you. Its not going to work.” 

“Oh Jay.” Dick tilts his head to the side and grins wider. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Uh huh,” Jason says, unconvinced. “Then what, pray tell, are you doing?”

“That thing where I trick you into believing I’m doing the more obvious seeming thing and then annoy you with my fake airhead routine until you end up flattering me and paying me compliments when pointing out why my airhead routine could never work on you and is thus just annoying,” Dick says brightly.

Jason’s eyebrows inch incrementally together with the slow, ominous scrape of stone grinding across stone. Dick is entirely undeterred, and simply shrugs again with a painfully fake display of innocence.

“Its dinner time and my ego needed feeding. Thanks for that bee tee dubs, it was getting hungry. Nom nom.”

“Yeah,” Jason says casually, after a good ten second pause. He nods decisively. “Okay, I’m going to murder you now.”

He lunges for his brother, but Dick’s resting pose is the equivalent of anyone else impatiently waiting at the starting block of a race. He’s up and on his feet, gracefully dancing out of range of his younger but bigger brother’s wider reach, and has darted halfway towards the other exit to the room by the time Jason finishes scrambling to his feet. Not that any of that delays the younger man from taking off in a dead sprint in pursuit of his laughing sprite of a brother the second he does. 

Bruce stares after them for a moment and then shifts his gaze down to Duke, who’s still seated contentedly on the floor, blithely unaffected by Dick and Jason’s mad dash out the room as he continues scribbling down notes.

“I will pay you all the money I have, not to grow up to be like them,” Bruce says in the gravest possible tone he can manage. “You don’t even have to wait til I’m dead.”

Duke sighs and shakes his head. “B, c’mon, man. I’m clearly on Team Class Warfare. I’m insulted you think I can be bought.”

Bruce frowns. “You all are way, way too fond of this trolling thing you do.”

“Mmm. Agree to disagree.”

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

A bit (a lot) on the ~risque~ side, but what about Reader and Yennefer make the boys watch? 😏 Maybe something like Reader and Yen end up hot n heavy after sharing mutual frustration about Jask and Geralt, so to equal out their ~frustration~ they give the boys a whole dang show they can't join in on 😏😉

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Yennefer x Reader Word Count: 2,034Rating: ETaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle a/n: I left the ending open for you to decide how Geralt and Jaskier process/retaliate/respond once they allowed to move again. This is my first wlw smut fic so it an only get better from here! Enjoy!

“Repeat the rules back to me,” Yennefer said, voice low and commanding. The two men sitting on the little sofa seat across from the bed exchanged amused smiles and Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“We’re not to move,” he said. Yennefer nodded and her eyes shifted to Geralt.

“We’re not to move,” he echoed, “Until you want us to,” he added smugly. That smugness was one of the reasons this was happening. Both men in your party had been getting a bit too full of themselves and you and Yennefer had taken the brunt of this. You and Yennefer had bonded over your frustration as the pair went off on stupid quests and nearly died and then had the gall to try and tell the two of you what to do or not do for your own safety. They’d also grown complacent in your relationships. There was a line between feeling secure and taking someone for granted and they’d fully pivoted to the latter. Even Jaskier, usually so romantic and attentive, had been a downright prick at times. Yennefer had offered a possible solution to ease the growing tension between all of you; a primer.

“Y/N, would you care to remind them why we’re doing this?” Yennefer asked, climbing onto the bed towards you, violet eyes glinting with mischief in a way that made you swallow your tongue.

“You want to remind them that they aren’t the only options we have on the road,” you said a little shyly. Yennefer tucked a strand of hair beneath your ear tenderly and she leaned in to whisper.

“You can tell me to stop any time,” she reminded you and you nodded, knowing full well there wasn’t a single thing this woman could suggest doing to you that you wouldn’t happily comply with. You were in love with Jaskier, but you understood why the witcher had fallen for the sorceress whose soft mouth was suddenly coming closer. Your eyes watched its progress before finally licking your lips and accepting the kiss. You’d wondered so many times what this would feel like and all of your fantasies paled in comparison. She was warm and soft and you pressed into the kiss, deepening it as she ran a hand through your hair. Her hand slid up your scalp and then she clenched her fist, seizing a thick handful of hair in a gesture that caused you to break out of the kiss with a gasp.

“Is that alright?” she purred into your ear. You tried to nod but your head was held taut in her grip.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Holy fuck,” a voice said and you remembered that the two men were still in the room, watching. Yennefer looked over at them and gave them a warning glare.

“Stay exactly where you are,” she ordered. Jaskier threw up his hands in surrender and Geralt gripped the couch tighter, his face impassive but multiple emotions warring in his eyes; jealousy, lust, anger, and not a little bit of pride. Yennefer turned her face back to you and began kissing her way down your bared neck. A soft moan escaped your lips and your eyes closed, focusing only on the way she touched and caressed you with her tongue and lips and hands that slid under the light robe you’d put on. Jaskier was attentive and gentle and damn good in bed. But this was different. Not better, just different. She was softer but rougher at the same time, unafraid to grip you closer or push you around a bit, knowing not to underestimate you and not worrying about overpowering you though, gods, she did.

She pressed you down against the bed, her hands pining yours as she climbed on top of you and gently undid the belt of your robe. You reached up tentatively but paused uncertainly, afraid to take liberties, happy to give but fearful to take. Yennefer saw your hand and took it, lifting it up to her breasts and planting it firmly. You heard a sharp intake of breath and you both looked over, hear lifting her head, the long, dark locks falling against your neck and you craning your neck to look around. Geralt was seething and Jaskier looked like he was having a stroke and you could feel their frustration. You made eye contact with Jaskier and smiled wickedly before turning back to Yennefer and pulling her closer to you, your bodies flush against each other as she slid a leg between yours, her knee gently rubbing against your mound as she moved into the kiss. You slid your tongue through her parted lips and swallowed the moan you pulled from her with the eager exploration of your mouth and hands on her body.

“Put your hands around her throat,” Jaskier’s voice called from the other side of the room. Yennefer looked up at him, squinting angrily.

“She likes it,” he said. You couldn’t tell if he was challenging you, testing you to see if you would really do this with Yennefer or if he was saying it because he genuinely wanted to make it good for you or if he was trying to direct his own little fantasy. Whatever his motivation, Yennefer slid one soft hand around your throat and gripped the sides as her other hand traveled lower, dipping between your legs to your already aching core.

“Show me how you like it,” Yennefer said, her words soft but commanding and you snaked a hand down to hers, aiding her in setting a rhythm you knew quite well. It felt different coming from her. Better.

“Poor Jaskier,” she sighed, keeping her eyes on your face and body as you reacted to her touch, gasps barely escaping your lips as her hand stayed wrapped around your throat, “It must sting to see you fall apart under my touch, knowing that your body isn’t a tune crafted for his voice alone. No, you are a symphony that any maestro may play with your permission. And you conduct so well.”

You were torn by her words, instinctively wanting to stand up for Jaskier but too distracted by the way her fingers slid inside of you. She didn’t thrust with her fingers, she continued to explore, curling and caressing and you weren’t entirely convinced she wasn’t using some of her magic as well but if she was you weren’t complaining. You couldn’t do anything but try to breathe and lay writhing and helpless underneath her as she drove you to the brink and pushed you off of it without so much as breaking a sweat. It was unnerving how calm she was while you thrashed beneath her, how loving and tender her expression as she released your throat, how soft her kisses as she praised you for being so good for her, thanking you for coming so beautifully.

“Right we’re done here,” Geralt growled, standing up abruptly.

“Sit down,” you barked, shocking yourself as much as Geralt. Yennefer gave him an amused smile.

“You heard her,” she said, “Do what she says or you can’t stay and you want to stay, don’t you? You’re hating this but you’re loving it too.”

Geralt’s fist were clenched at his side but he took his seat next to Jaskier who stared, riveted.

“When you said we can’t move you just meant we can’t stand right?” Jaskier asked. Yennefer looked to you for the answer. You sat up and considered Jaskier. He sat, white knuckled as he gripped the sides of the sofa, face flush and eyes darkened with lust. You could see the clear, hard outline of his cock straining against the trousers that kept it pent back and you knew what he asked. You also knew that he had been a little shit and he saw the malicious smile creep over your lips, dread darkening his features.

“Don’t move a single muscle. It’s your turn to watch as another performs, Bard,” you said, the final word a little barb neither Yennefer or Geralt picked up on but Jaskier glowered at you dangerously. Some called their partners Sir or Master when roles were performed but you called him Bard, a word usually thrown at him dismissively becoming a treasured titled as you moaned it when he was roughly fucking you. You knew you would be punished for using the private title saved for him while your hands were on another, but you were feeling particularly bold and besides, he may have picked up a few tricks by the time the two of you were done.

You turned to Yennefer and she waited, giving you a look that was equal parts amused and intrigued. You hadn’t talked through what you’d do or how far you’d go but if you knew anything about sex it was that it was just good manners to at least try and make sure everyone left equally satisfied. And by the gods, if nothing else, you had good manners.

“Lie down please,” you asked kindly.

“Or what’ll you do? Spank me?” Yennefer teased playfully as she made a point to crawl slowly around you before stretching out on the bed, putting on a show for Geralt who was emitting a low, snarling sound that scared you and urged you on all at once.

“Maybe another time,” you said, slowly parting her robe and letting it fall away. You’d seen her in glimpses but now she lay before you in her entirety and you sighed softly, eyes roaming her body with a serene look on your face.

“There will be no other time,” Jaskier growled. You didn’t respond, focusing only on the woman beneath you as you kissed her soft lips, trailing kisses down her neck and lower.

“No marks,” Geralt said, voice deadly serious. You looked up at him, your face framed by Yennefer’s breasts.

“No marks,” he repeated. It was a boundary and you would respect that though you envied his freedom to mark her as he wished and claim her body. You would make the most of this time you had her, though, Geralt be damned. Yennefer’s hands stroked your hair, fingers digging into your scalp as you moved lower, past the plane of her stomach and lower still. You paused, slightly nervous but filled with determination.

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” Yennefer said.

“You can tell me to stop too,” you reminded her, worried that you were crossing a line.

“I know,” she said, giving you a smile, “But I don’t want you to.”

This was all of the encouragement you needed and you gently nudged her legs further apart, settling between them, ignoring the dual gasps and growl of protest from across the room, focusing only on the way Yennefer relaxed her body and nestled a hand in your hair.

You gently parted her with your fingers, sliding them softly and carefully at first as you grew familiar with the territory, enjoying the way her stomach twitched and her hands clenched a little as your strokes grew longer and deeper. You slid your tongue along the same path your fingers had traced, pulling a low moan from Yennefer as you brushed against her clit softly, just barely grazing it. You knew that sharing the same part didn’t mean she’d respond the exact same way but you still fall back on what Jaskier had done for you that had felt good, teasing the most sensitive part but making sure not to ignore any other part of her from the thighs you kissed and bit to the entrance you tongued. She murmured words of encouragement through her moans, guiding you with her instructions and her hand firmly moving your head where she wanted it, pulling moans from you as you reveled under being used so roughly yet so tenderly. When her words stopped and you felt her body tighten you kept the rhythm you’d been set at, focusing hard to not change anything that could pull her away from her release and when she came it was your word on her lips, her taste in your mouth, a moment unique to the both of you that you knew you would keep close forever.

[orionsangel86]

Sam & Eileen - A Supernatural Romance.

I am quite clearly over the moon about 15x06 and Sam reunited with and bringing Eileen back from the dead. I was so over the moon in fact, that I burst into tears when Eileen stepped out of the bathtub and took Sam’s hand. That was… wow. 

That was the most romantic moment in this show since 13x05 “it’s never too late” (also a return from the dead!)

So I was inspired to write an homage meta post celebrating Sam and Eileen’s romance looking back at everything canon has given us on this epic pairing.

It turns out, despite all my usual grumbling, there is still one het ship out there that I can totally get behind, and no one deserves love more than our dear Sam Winchester.

11x04 - Baby

This is where I believe the story started for Sam. 

“You don’t ever want something more?”

(x)

“You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?”

This question, from Sam to his brother at the start of Season 11, has shaped so much of the subtext in the seasons following. It’s significance to the Winchesters individual development arcs, their hopes, their dreams. It blatantly spelled out for the audience what both these boys desire and what they deserve for each of their endgames.

Not a white picket fence, not the apple pie life, just something. Something that suits them. Something to share with someone else, romantically, who might fit that particular box. Let me be very clear here and stress that Sam certainly wasn’t talking about him and Dean finding that something with each other.

Dean’s journey towards finding that something has been building for even longer than this particular moment in canon, with the other stand out scene being his confession in 10x16 where he talked about having things, people, feelings, that I want to experience differently than before, or maybe even for the first time. Dean’s journey is something we have discussed at length, and as every meta writer in fandom knows all too well, it only leads in one particular direction - towards a certain dreamy blue eyed angel. 

Sam’s journey has not been discussed as intensely as Dean’s, but 11x04 did lay groundwork for the writers to build upon. It hasn’t been as smooth or as obvious in the subtext as Dean’s either, with certain writing decisions appearing to come out of left field and confuse the path. But it seems that Dabb has course corrected and brought us back on track. 

This episode was the first time in canon in a long time that we heard Sam textually voice his desire for a romantic relationship of some kind. I therefore immediately got excited and locked this moment away in a pocket in my heart to pull out again if ever the show would introduce a character who could fit those requirements for Sam. 

The show did not disappoint.

11x11 Into the Mystic

GOD I forgot how full of delicious layers this episode was! It was written by the same writer who wrote 11x04. Robbie Thompson clearly had something in mind for Sam when he first wrote that script, and he gave it to us (and Sam) in this episode.

Eileen is introduced in 11x11 as another Hunter on a quest for vengeance - to avenge her murdered family.

It isn’t a surprise that we basically immediately shipped Eileen with Sam after this episode first aired, because her entire backstory is written to compliment Sam. Within the first 5 minutes of getting to know her, she already fulfills the requirements from Sam’s wistful speech in 11x04. She is a hunter, she is someone who understands the life. But more than that, she is all of the following:

She is on a revenge quest

She has murdered parents

She was raised by a Hunter or rather “trained” to be a Hunter rather than raised (in a scene which implies a similarly strict hunter upbringing to Sam and Dean)

She continued hunting alone after her guardian died

Her grandfather was a Man of Letters, making her a MOL Legacy, just like Sam.

Her mother was a lawyer, so she makes a joke about studying law which prompts further bonding with Sam due to his Stanford law education.

Eileen catches Sam’s eye almost immediately, and it is surprising I didn’t pick up on that on my first watch at the time, but Eileen is literally disguised as the cleaner in order to go unnoticed. Sam had no reason to be suspicious of her, and I think at the time we all assumed that he just wanted to question a potential witness - but even so, there was no need to interrupt Mildred to go speak to her. Could Sam’s distraction have been a bit more than strictly professional? In hindsight I’m gonna go with YES.

Their next meet is cute simply because by this point the audience is misled to think that she is actually the banshee. The ominous music tones, the shots of Eileen watching the Winchesters from a window. We believe that she is the villain, and then when she uses magic to pin Sam and comes at him with a dagger it’s practically a romantic trope used in enemies to lovers fics. A case of mistaken identity (another trope) and Sam and Eileen are able to reveal each of their truths. They bond immediately with both Sam and the audience learning all of the above. the checklist requirements indicating their compatibility is so blatantly obvious its almost too on the nose. But then het romance always seems that way doesn’t it?

The real kicker in this episode that made my heart sing at the time was this:

“Feel free to drop me a line if you ever need anything. Or even if you just wanna hang out”

“you can’t call me though, I mean you could call but I won’t answer.”

(x)

FIRST OF ALL - HOW DARE YOU KILL ME WITH FEELS SAMMY OVER THAT GORGEOUS SMILE

Sam’s line here though was SUCH A LINE. “Or even if you just wanna hang out”

I see you Sam Winchester. Hoping for Netflix and Chill right? I know you have Netflix. You gave Cas your password. :P

This little interaction at the end of this episode was pure flirtation and it was gorgeous to watch (and to rewatch, with hindsight, knowing what happens in 15x06 to totally deepen their relationship. Urgh. I guess I really am a sucker for a good old fashioned Supernatural Love Story!)

The other big takeaway from this episode is that meeting Eileen rejuvenated Sam. He starts the episode unable to sleep, haunted by his Lucifer trauma and feeling so down and broody that Dean steps in constantly to ask if he’s okay and try to engage in talking about feelings (always a bad sign for a Winchester to get to the point where they feel they need to ask the other to talk about feelings!)

But the end of the episode marks a significant change in Sam. He smiles, he opens up to Dean, he textually states that the case helped him. He opens up a keepsake box (that we never knew he had before this episode) and puts the retirement homes leaflet in there - an indication that he actually has hope that he might live to see a happy retirement (a wonderful sign for someone who just 40 minutes ago was acting like a total nihilist.)

The case alone wasn’t some spectacular revelation, so what else could have possibly caused Sam’s change of heart? The answer is obvious. Eileen did. She acted like a beacon of light this episode for Sam, and in a perfect bookend to how the episode opened, Sam curls up in bed, turns off his light, and is able to sleep. It is only Dean who spends the night restless and haunted.

This was the first time that Eileen acted as a “win” for Sam just by meeting him.

Unfortunately, we don’t meet Eileen again until a whole season later in

12x17 - The British Invasion

This episode is a far cry away from 11x11′s layered genius. Messy, overly plot heavy, too many various character stories causing mental whiplash, too much focus on unnecessary side characters, LUCIFER existing in general, an unnecessary sex scene between Mary and Ketch (eww), a bloody death scene, and moments of utter stupidity from the lead characters.

In other words it’s a CLASSIC BUCKLEMING.

Do yourselves a favour and if you ARE planning on re-watching this episode, just skip to the parts with Dean, Sam and Eileen (the Dagon and Kelly stuff is relatively good as well - the rest is utter garbage).

Anyway, pushing aside my hatred for the terrible duo for a moment, I will say that as per usual, what they lack in subtlety and intelligent subtextual layering, they make up for with a sledge hammer to the face in terms of trying to get a point across. So when it comes to Saileen in this episode, well, it might as well be canon already.

Practically every time Sam and Eileen interact in this episode, they are framed as a flirtatious couple in the early tentative stages. The smiles and playful flirting, the smirks when one does something to make the other proud. It is very clear, even if it is still technically subtextual, that both Jared and Shoshannah are playing this like these characters are attracted to one another, and are building on that relationship.

Hell, even Dean teases Sam twice about Eileen in this episode (though once was in a deleted scene that they should have kept instead of the Lucifer crap):

(x)

What we also find out from this opening scene, is that Sam and Eileen have been communicating off screen since 11x11. It is textually confirmed that the two of them have been developing their relationship previously, and we just haven’t seen it. Did Eileen visit the Bunker previously? Because she certainly seemed comfortable there this episode. Have her and Sam cuddled up to watch movies previously? (We know another pairing that textually do this even though we’ve never seen it on screen - Dean and Cas). Dean feels comfortable enough to tease his little brother in that playful typical sibling way, so clearly Eileen at this point has become a more frequent character in Sam’s life. It’s just a shame we as the audience have never seen anything of it until this episode. 

This episode might be the first time we have seen her again since her introduction, but it certainly isn’t the first time Sam has seen her since. This is canon.

The rest of this episode continues this theme of displaying with zero subtlety that Sam and Eileen have something more than friendship. One of the easiest ways to truly see the effect of this is just watching Sam in scenes with her compared to Sam at any other time. Like in 11x11, Eileen manages to light Sam up and have him grinning like a puppydog. It’s kind of adorable and also quite shocking when you realise how rare it is to see Sam smile (or any of the characters in this angstfest of a TV show for that matter.)

Just look at the above cheesy smile in the car scene. Look at Sam’s bashful face here when Dean teases him in front of his girl:

(x)

Look at this smug face when Eileen snaps back at the irritating guy:

(x)

Jared hits every mark playing a loved up Sam Winchester. 

By the end of this episode, a tragedy strikes and Eileen is scared off. Their relationship here ends on a comforting hug, because meaningful relationships in this show are almost always first signified with comforting hugs following traumatic events, and tentative hand holding.

The way he strokes her hair gently is just SO touching and intimate.

(x)

When all is said and done Eileen leaves, terrified of the British Men of Letters. When Dean asks Sam where she was, he tells him she went back to Ireland, and Sam looks so dejected at that thought. I don’t see how anyone can possibly read his reactions towards Eileen as anything other than romantic affection.

As a bonus point - I will mention that due to Bucklemings sledgehammer approach, it is quite clear that Eileen plays a Cas mirror in this episode. All of her scenes with Sam are paired off against Dean who spends this entire episode trying and failing to get hold of Castiel. In the Winchester’s final scene, Sam greets Dean in the morning and immediately asks his brother about Cas. Sam does this a lot in season 12, because Dean’s concern for Cas is present throughout every episode in which he is absent. Dean admits he is worried, but changes the subject, instead asking Sam about Eileen (note that it is the next morning so Dean assumed she had stayed the night).

Both brothers revert to the other when it comes to their respective partners. Sam leaves it up to Dean to contact and worry about Cas, and Dean does the same with Sam about Eileen. By this being a common pattern throughout pretty much all of Carver/Dabb eras, both brothers subtextually acknowledge that they each have a strong emotional connection with their respective potential romantic partners and therefore any contact or communication about each partner must come from the brother closest. 

12x21 - There’s Something About Mary

Another Buckleming episode and the less said about this one the better. I won’t even mention the extremely insulting and inappropriate way to kill off a disabled character (almost as bad as killing off a lesbian by having nazis butcher her) I also won’t comment on the letter that Eileen sent Sam which whilst it did have romantic undertones, was clearly written by a 12 year old girl and did not marry with Eileen’s character at all (Eugenie showing her misogyny again).

The one good thing that came out of this episode (the only good thing) was Jared’s understated grief over Eileen’s death. 

(x)

(x)

His performance dealing with her death in this episode was beautiful. It was understated, but clearly portrayed as heartbreaking. Unfortunately Sam had to push it down and bottle it up. 

Eileen’s death was a huge shocker to us all as it didn’t make any sense at that point to cut short a story that seemed so clearly to be on a specific trajectory. We often talk about how Eileen’s romance with Sam at the time was tied to Dean and Cas, and that their relationship paralleled Dean and Cas’s in the narrative. This is all true, especially the death of Eileen coming as foreshadowing for the death of Castiel at series end. Just looking at that above gif of Sam where he looks at her corpse bears an extreme resemblance to Dean pulling back the sheet and looking down at a dead Castiel in 13x01.

However much I squee and love that these relationships are clear mirrors of each other though, I need to stress how Saileen, how Sam and Eileen’s canon relationship, is so much more than that. They may have mirrored Destiel, but they are also totally different, on a different course, and with a totally different backstory. Eileen doesn’t exist just to give Sam his own version of Cas to run off with. She is not there just to push up a separate ship. Sam and Eileen’s romance stands alone in this story. It may mirror DeanCas at times, but its purpose is not for DeanCas. It’s purpose is for Sam and Eileen. 

Right from the start she ticked all of Sam’s boxes, and the clear attraction between them made it obvious. Yet Eileen was not written to just be a love interest either. She is an ally, a capable hunter, who is written deeply, with her own trauma’s and tragic past. Yet she keeps fighting, all whilst owning her disability and making it work for her rather than hold her back. She is hardly a Lisa, or an Amelia, both of whom had zero depth of character and were more or less written to look pretty and concerned as the Winchester boys basically treated them terribly. Eileen stands out as an individual character far beyond her relationship with Sam. She was full of potential which is why her quick death was an absolute travesty. 

Eileen should not have been killed off. I believe even the writers are well aware of that, and this is why they brought her back. 

Which brings me to:

15x06 - Golden Time

We knew long before this episode aired that Eileen would be back as Dabb revealed her return at SDCC. He made comments at the time ensuring that any characters he brought back would not be fanservice, that they would be characters chosen because the writers felt their stories ended too quickly, and that they had more stories to tell. Something I believe that DabbBerens are doing in particular in this season is righting the wrongs of the past. Eileen’s death was a clear “wrong” and I think its highly likely that DabbBerens’ were aware of this and saw Eileen as a no-brainer to bring back. As I said at the start of this post, Dabb is course correcting, getting his endgame plans back on track, and ensuring that he hits certain markers in order to do that. 

Once again, we are at a place in the story where Sam is grieving, and suffering deeply from all of the loss and trauma that he has faced. Being God’s personal puppet, losing his mother, losing his son, and losing someone he was close to in Rowena by his own hand, has left him in a dark place. Sam’s arc in early season 15 plays out very similarly to Dean’s arc in early season 13. A Winchester in desperate need of a win.

Eileen was Sam’s win in this episode.

Given the time that has passed since Eileen’s last episode, and how the narrative has progressed since then, I was worried that Eileen’s return would seem like fan service, and would therefore fall flat (I felt this way with AU!Charlie and never warmed to the character because of it). I was also worried that whatever potential relationship might have been building between her and Sam in seasons 11 and 12 might not have shone through in this episode. But thankfully the writers played it pretty damn perfectly and Eileen’s return wasn’t just a small side plot to an otherwise jam packed episode (like Kevin’s return in 15x02). No, her story was the A plot as Sam devoted himself to finding a way to save her from a terrible fate.

My concerns about their potential romantic relationship not being played as it was in 12x17 were also completely unfounded. From the moment Sam saw Eileen’s ghost whilst on a jog the romance was immediately back and I have no doubt that Jared and Shoshannah are once again fully playing up the connection and romantic attraction between the two. 

I am so convinced of the romance being put across here, and I want you to see why I adore this so much (in case you don’t already see it). So here are my biggest and most important takeaways from Eileen and Sam’s scenes in this episode and WHY I feel these stand out as significant elements towards proving the writers intentions for this to be an endgame canon relationship:

1. Aside from the obvious similarities between Sam and Eileen that were written into 11x11 in order to ensure that Eileen was able to stand as Sam’s equal, the one other thing that we have long discussed that Sam needs in a partner is someone who at least somewhat understands the trauma and pain that he has experienced in his life. Sam has predominantly bonded with people via shared trauma. Before her death, Eileen had had her fair share of traumatic experiences growing up in the tough hunter lifestyle, but spending an eternity being tortured in Hell is a different level of trauma entirely.

This episode cleverly once again elevated Eileen to the same level as Sam. They are equals now, both through good and bad experiences. Eileen was dragged to Hell, and only escaped when Chuck released the souls. Given that 1 year on Earth is 100 years in Hell, this means that Eileen was in Hell for 250 years give or take. Her trauma, her pain over this, is something that she can’t talk about just yet, but this significant connection between her and Sam was textualised clearly:

SAM: “I’ve been there too. Hell… long time ago. You try and forget but it gets inside you. Talking helps.”

EILEEN: “I can’t. not yet.”

SAM: “I understand”

And he really does. It is something that we can argue is a shared suffering that can create a (forgive me for this) profound bond between two people. The only other people who can understand just what he has been through were Dean (via years of Hell torture), Cas (via shared Lucifer possession), and Rowena (via shared Lucifer torture). Eileen now makes that very small list.

2. The other big factor that this episode made clear to point out textually was that this is not a Chuck manipulation. This really is Eileen, and her return from death is not part of Chuck’s story: 

SAM: “Rowena got it, she didn’t know the details but she knew the game was rigged so this. Magic. This is how she kept control.”

The reason I do not believe that Eileen is part of Chuck’s manipulations is this very pointed line right here about Rowena. Along with many other things in this episode that indicate that it isn’t guided by Chuck, Sam specifically clarifies that Rowena used magic to maintain control over her own universe.

Whilst I fully believe that Rowena will be coming back as Queen of Hell (because whatever happens to Heaven and Hell at the end, they will need balance, and someone to play caretaker and Rowena has just been set up for this role far too perfectly for me not to at least consider the option), this episode so beautifully respects and honours her character, to the point that Rowena, even in her absence, is able to control and play architect to all that happens. Rowena effectively is given Chuck’s role over this particular narrative, but instead of being framed as something villainous, it is portrayed as a precious gift that she has given to her protege Sam.

Rowena rigged the system for herself, as Sam textually explains. Her use of magic, was her way of escaping Chuck’s control, and it is through Rowena that Sam is also given this power. The power to bring back someone he loves - who was most likely taken from him by Chuck’s own dark and poorly written story (yes I do believe that Meredith was throwing shade at Buckleming in the deep subtext - pretty much all the other writers do this all the time if you pay close enough attention :P)

Rowena’s journey from villain, to reluctant ally, to friend and then finally to family, is one of the most beautiful and epic journey’s on the show (rivalled only by Castiel in my opinion). She remains one of my all time favourite characters, and her tribute in this episode, that even after death she could bestow such a precious gift to Sam, is one that I think will remain one of the more touching stories this show has given us. This is yet another reason why I believe that Sam and Eileen are endgame. Because it is a gift from Rowena, and I believe it is a gift that will be honoured by the writers.

3. It’s a small moment, but it is IMPORTANT. Sam confirms that he was teaching himself ASL after he met Eileen. In a moment of adorable flirtation Eileen beams at him and a bashful Sam smiles and bounces on the spot like a giddy schoolboy. This is yet another reveal of moments in the lives of the Winchesters that we just don’t see in 40 minute episodes. That it is canon that Sam spent hours of his life teaching himself ASL so he could more effectively communicate with Eileen is so precious. There is no way to argue how much she meant to him. 

But it isn’t just evidence of Sam’s affections, it proves to be a useful tool to the hunt in this episode as well. When Sam is unable to speak due to the witches curse, he is instead able to sign “My brother” to Eileen so that she knows to go and get Dean. It is Sam’s knowledge of sign language, which he learned due to his affection and interest in Eileen, that saves his life in this episode. 

One point that I HAVE to mention here is how the writers gave so much thought to their depiction of Eileen as a deaf person, and how wonderful her return is as representation for deaf and hard of hearing people everywhere. In both this episode, and also in her first episode 11x11, her disability was not treated as a set back, but as a tool that enables her to get ahead. The only time the writing displayed an insulting and frankly ableist light was Bucklemings 12x21 which isn’t really surprising. We expect such things from Buckleming. The other writers have proven how much more compassionate and caring they are.

The idea that Sam Winchester could end up falling in love with a beautiful, deaf woman in Eileen is practically unheard of in TV media. When do the protagonists ever end up with anyone less than “TV perfect”? It is groundbreaking that Supernatural in it’s 15 seasons has grown so much and come so far. That it started with the fridging of two women, that it’s cast remained predominantly white men throughout its entire run, that it was blackened by excessive misogyny in its early days, as well as ableism via the treatment of Bobby Singer’s paralysis in season 5. 

Supernatural has faced heavy criticism throughout it’s run, but it seems like the writers have listened and are learning. By allowing Sam and Eileen to have a happy endgame, they are doing a wonderful service in truly putting this show on the map for progression and representation - They just need to make sure that they follow through on that other big important thing too…

4. Rebirth and new beginnings. I am reminded of 13x05 and the brilliant Steppenwolf song “It’s Never Too Late To Start Again” as I rewatch the bathroom scene for the hundredth time. If the rest of the episode hasn’t already had you crying out how desperately these two should be together I fully believe it was Meredith’s plan (along with the entire production crew and Shoshannah and Jared), to have us all bawling our eyes out in happy tears that Sam and Eileen get to be together now!! (well, I certainly cried. A lot. and ruined my mascara. and squeaked at such a high pitch only dogs could hear me. The only other time I have had that reaction was in 13x05… oh, and 12x19. It’s RARE okay!)

I think the most significant point here is the touching of hands, which calls back to an earlier painful moment in the episode when ghost Eileen reached out to try to comfort Sam as he despaired about being a cosmic joke, and found she wasn’t even able to touch him. 

It is a romantic trope that was most famously used in the film Ghost, where touch was a big part of the on screen relationship. Supernatural displays this same trope rather perfectly here when the big win of the episode takes place, and Eileen emerges from the bathtub alive and whole, and tentatively reaches out to take Sam’s hand again with vastly different results.

(x)

Sam is so hesitant to touch her back, so fearful that this isn’t real, that he isn’t being allowed this. The overwhelming sense of relief and warmth that radiates from him when he finally does take her hand was exactly what made me burst into tears. The moment is so extremely breathtaking, so intimate and touching that your heart just aches for them to have that happy ending. It’s rare that Supernatural gives us moments like this, but when it does give them, when it allows its characters a win, they are immediately memorable and stand out as bright spots in an otherwise dark show. It’s moments like this that make watching these characters suffer so much worth it in the end.

The hug that comes after the touching of hands is just as intimate. This is portrayed as a lifeline. Something for Sam to grasp onto and breath. Something that inspires him to change his outlook, to gather his determination, and to convince his brother to join him and fight for the happy ending that both of these boys so desperately deserve.

(x)

The entire bathroom scene was a testament to how well Supernatural can work romance into its narrative. How these talented creators can easily provide us with a romantic scene to tug on our heart strings. Anyone screaming that romance doesn’t belong in this show I will now point at this scene and tell them exactly how wrong they are. This scene is EXACTLY what this show needed. 

For anyone denying the romance here (yeah funny how the bronly’s are so anti Saileen - I wonder why...) I’ll spell it out for them:

This is how you set up a romantic scene in TV Production:

1. Candlelight. Check.

2. Soft focus (dates back to the 1930s when films would use soft focus to portray the dreamy emotional uplift of happy couples in love - see Meet Me In Saint Louis for a very clear example). It is almost always considered a filming technique to portray romance. Check.

3. Chivalry. As if any of us didn’t expect Sam to be a perfect gentleman! But the fact is that the way he turns his back and waits with bated breath to see if the spell had worked is shown as anything other than platonic. He is almost shy, knowing that if and when she emerges from the water she will be naked, but he turns to preserve her dignity. Check.

4. Leading on from that, this is literally a naked woman emerging from a bathtub whilst Sam awkwardly stands in the room. It could have been highly sexualised. They could have used that god awful 70s porno music they like so much in this show. Sam could have made a joke to dispel the tension. If this was a platonic friendship, any of these things would have given it away. The fact that none of this happened, that the scene remained tense and intimate but not overly sexualised only further validates the romantic reading. I mean LOOK AT THIS:

CHECK

5. The music. Music is such an important part in any story. It always plays a vital role in signifying the correct atmosphere, and the correct tone of a scene. We talk about music a lot in relation to Dean and Cas and the sweeping melodic notes that usually compliment any heightened emotional DeanCas scene. The music during THIS scene though? Well it was beautifully romantic in every way. If in doubt, just go back and listen to it with your eyes closed. Play this music track over another random scene of two people sharing a moment, and it will make the scene read as romantic. I guarantee it. 

CHECK AND MATE.

Overall, this episode was the most romantic and most intimate Sam and Eileen have ever got yet in canon. It is a clear indication that their relationship is heading in a positive direction. I couldn’t be happier with how the writers are portraying this and am jumping for joy at the thought that Sam might actually get what he desired all those years ago during 11x04 when he tried to bring up the topic to Dean in the Impala.

We know from promo photos, that Eileen is still staying with Sam in 15x07. That she comforts him. With images like this to go on:

I’d say with some confidence that we will get to further watch their relationship grow, and I couldn’t be more excited for it.

I fully expect there to be darker moments coming up, and potentially Eileen will be sent away for a period of time (my money is on Chuck “dusting” her the way he did with Becky in 15x04 because I don’t believe that kills people and I do believe that they can be brought back from wherever he sends them too - plus “dusting” makes me think of Avengers Endgame which I find amusing because the “dusted” all returned at the end. I wouldn’t be surprised if Supernatural played around with that as it so often likes to play with pop culture references). I think that post Mid Season Finale we will be back to a period of utter loss and despair for the Winchester boys, and that therefore those who they feel strongly for (aka Cas and Eileen) will have to be separated from them.

However, the point is that it is always darkest before the dawn. In this story, 15x06 has laid the groundwork for Eileen to be Sam’s romantic endgame. It’s now up to Sam, and Eileen, to make sure they fight to get what they both so desire.

Bring on the finale show.

(If you liked this meta run through of Sam and Eileen’s building relationship, please leave a comment for me. It took forever to complete! Also, please click the links under the gifs and go give the gifmakers some love! The gifsets I have used are all wonderful and deserve your reblogs. (Gifs that don’t have links are my own)).

:)

[nanigma]

Blue Lions Translation Chapter 1

Hey, everyone. Since I am currently on holiday and finally finished my latin exam, I decided to start up something fun for us to look at. I’ll make it my mission to go through the Japanese script for the Blue Lions route and translate it as I go. May it reveal neat things small and big.

Can’t promise I will actually make it through it all, but I’ll definitely try my best.  

Before we go, I’d like to mention that I am without income this month and would appreciate any bit of help you can give me through my ko-fi account. Times are rough.

My comments in italics

Some small things to note as we start out in White Clouds. I only plan on translating the Blue Lion specific lines first. It just gives me less text to work through all at once. If my stamina lasts long enough, I might go back at a later point and do a translation of all the ‘neutral’ dialogue in between.

Chapter Dialogue

First meeting with the Blue Lions

アネット: えっ、新しい先生って、まさか……あわわ、 あたし、友達みたいに話しかけちゃって……▼ 同い年くらいに見えたから、つい……！ すみません、気をつけますっ！！▼

Annette: Eh, you mean the new teacher is... no way.. ahh. And I even talked to you like we were friends. ▼ You look like you are my age so... I am so sorry, I will be careful from now on!! ▼

[選択:構わない]

[Choose: I don't care]

アネット: そ、そんなこと言われても……。

Annette: Even if you say so...

ディミトリ: ええ、こちらの気が済みません。 

Dimitri: Yes, it is on us to apologize.

シルヴァン: 先生が言うんだし、いいんじゃないですか？ つーか、それを言ったらですよ、殿下……▼ そもそも、俺たちがあんたにこんな口を 利いてるのだって、不敬もいいとこでしょ。▼

Sylvain: But the Professor said they don't care, so it's fine, right? And anyway, if we are already on the topic, your highness.. ▼ Since we've been talking to you so casually all along, a little disrespect can’t be that bad. ▼

ディミトリ: いや、ここは王国ではないんだし、 それとこれとはまた別の話で……▼ ……だがまあ、先生がそれでいいなら ありがたくその厚意に甘えるとしようか。▼

Dimitri: No, this isn't the kingdom, so how we talk there is completely unrelated to how we talk here... ▼ However, if it is alright with the Professor, we shall take them up on their offer gratefully. ▼

イングリット: あの、ですが私には…… 染みついた癖というのは、どうにも……。▼

Ingrid: Um, I myself... I am not sure if I can go against my manners like that.. ▼

メルセデス: 難しいなら、無理することないわよ～。 ね、先生もそれでいいでしょう？▼

Mercedes: No need to force it, if it's difficult for you~. I am sure that's fine with you too, Professor? ▼

Byleth nods

[If Byleth is female]

シルヴァン: 先生は器がでかいなあ、素敵だ！ あっ、結婚を前提に、俺とお茶でも……

Sylvain: The professor has such a big heart, how wonderful! Ah, we should discuss marriage sometime over a cup of tea and-...

I had to look up what  器がでかいなあ means. Literally it would be more like “Your vessel is big” and I suspected something sleazy at first, but it seems Sylvain is innocent.. this time.

フェリクス:……待て、シルヴァン。 こいつには用がある。▼

Felix: … Wait, Sylvain. I need something from her.

フェリクス……そういえば、先ほどお前に言ったな。 剣を交える日を楽しみにしている、と。▼

Felix: … Anyway. You told me before, right? About looking forward to the day we cross swords.

Whoever uploaded the Japanese script speculated this line only shows up if you talked to him during exploration before. Which would make more sense. The localization rephrases it as “I’ve heard of you and wanna fight” which either means the above showed up regardless, potentially causing confusion for Japanese players who skipped talking to him, or the localization made it non-conditional. I’ll have to boot up my game at some point to check.

[Continuing for both Blyeths]

フェリクス: 後で訓練場に来い。 まずはお前の腕を見せてもらいたい。▼

Felix: Come to the training hall after this. First things first, I want you to show me your skill.

ディミトリ: 抜け駆けとは感心しないな、フェリクス。 その試合、是非俺も交ぜてくれ。▼

Dimitri: It wouldn't be right for you get a headstart, Felix. Please let me partake in that match as well.

English!Dimitri just comments that Felix is right to the point. But I like him teasing a bit here.

Also Dimitri used much more polite language before this, but has now switched to a more casual style, like promised.

フェリクス:……チッ。▼

Felix: … Tch.

アッシュ: あ、あのっ！　後学のため、 僕も見学させていただきたいんですが！▼

Ashe: H- Hey! I would also like to observe the occasion for future reference.

ディミトリ: アッシュ。見るだけと言わず、 お前も加わればいいだろう。▼

Dimitri: Ashe, leaving out the bit about observation, it would definitely be good for you to join as well.

メルセデス; ふふっ、怪我した時は私に言ってね～。 ちょっとした傷なら、すぐに看てあげるわ。▼

Mercedes: Hehe, just tell me if you get hurt. I'll look after any scratch immediately.

ドゥドゥー:……殿下。 あまり羽目を外され過ぎぬよう。▼

Dedue: … Your highness. Please do not overextend yourself.

ディミトリ: お前は心配性だな、ドゥドゥー。 大丈夫、自重はするさ。▼

Dimitri: You really are a worrywart, Dedue. It's alright, I'll take care.

シルヴァン: なあ……親睦を深めるのに剣を交えるって、 何か根本的に間違ってると思うんだけど？▼

Sylvain: Hey...  doesn’t anyone think there’s something seriously wrong with deepening our bonds by swinging swords at each other?

イングリット: あら、そうかしら。そういうことなら、 あなただけ教室で留守番してる？▼

Ingrid: My, is that so? In that case, I suppose you'll stay behind and watch the classroom for us?

シルヴァン: イングリット……お前さあ、 ほんっと俺に対して手厳しいよなあ……。▼

Sylvain: Ingrid... you are always so harsh when it comes to me...   

ディミトリ: ……先生。青獅子の学級ルーヴェンクラッセは、 見てのとおり騒がしい学級だ。▼ いろいろと苦労をかけるかもしれないが、 これから１年、よろしく頼む。▼

Dimitri: Professor. As you can see, the Blue Lions are a very boisterous class. ▼ We might cause you a lot of trouble, but we'll be counting on your for coming year. ▼

Exploration

Again, sticking only to the Blue Lions for this one and leaving out the lines they have when recruited or when you are in a another house for now.

[Annette]

Speech Bubble: I could swear I saw him...

アネット: こんにちは、先生。 あの、ちょっと質問があるんですけど……。▼ あたしと同じ色の髪の毛で、しかめっ面の、 暗ーい雰囲気のおじさん、知りませんか？▼

Annette: Hello, Professor. Um, I have a question for you... ▼ Do you know an older man whose hair the same colour as mine, with a frown on his face and surrounded by a gloomy aura? ▼ 

[選択:人捜し？]

[Choose: Are you looking for someone?] +Support with Annette

アネット: ……はい。ちょっと、事情があって……。 もし見かけたら、教えてくださいね！▼

Annette: Yeah... There's a bit of a situation... Please tell me, if you see him, okay?

[選択:知らない] 

[Choose: I don't know]

アネット: やっぱり、そうですよね……。 ごめんなさい、変なこと聞いちゃって！▼

Anette: I knew it... I'm sorry for making you listen to such a weird question.

[Dimitri]

ディミトリ: 近く、学級対抗戦が催されるそうだな。 訓練を怠らないようにしなければ。▼ 先生は、俺たち生徒個人の能力を把握し、 的確な指導をしてやってほしい。▼ 実りある戦いにするのはもちろんだが、 戦うからには勝ちたいだろ、先生。▼ 大修道院は初めてだと言っていたな。 折角だ、俺から簡単に案内させてもらおう。▼

Dimitri: We will soon be holding a mock battle against the other classes. We mustn't neglect our training. ▼ I wish for you to ascertain each students individual abilities and instruct us precisely. ▼ It's sure to be a rewarding experience either way, but of course I want to win, Professor. ▼ You mentioned this was your first time at the monestary. In that case I shall give you some basic information on it. ▼

[選択可:施設の利用]

[Select: The use of facilities]

ディミトリ: 大修道院内の施設は、士官学校の 生徒や教師にも利用が許可されている。▼ 例えば、食堂では他の者と食事を共にでき、 訓練場では一対一の稽古ができる。▼ ここで生活する人々の話に耳を傾けながら 大修道院内を散策してみるといい。▼

Dimitri: The facilities inside the monastery are permitted to be used by all the students and teachers. ▼ For instance, you can go to the dining hall to enjoy a meal with others, or go to the training hall to have one-on-one matches. ▼ It would be a good idea to lend an ear to what the people living here have to say, while you wander through the monastery. ▼

[選択可: 掲示板とクエスト]  

[Select: The bulletin board and quests]

ディミトリ: 大修道院の各所には「掲示板」がある。 先生は、見たことがあるか？▼ 掲示板には、各所からの依頼や 門前にある市場の情報が掲示されている。▼ こういった依頼に応えることで、 使えるようになる施設もあったと思う。▼ 掲示板の情報は、頻繁に更新される。 毎節、一度は確認しておいたほうがいい。▼ 

Dimitri: There are various bulletin boards throughout the monastery. Have you seen them, professor? ▼ On the boards you'll find requests from various places posted, as well as information on the market in front of the gates. ▼ By responding to these requests, I think you will eventually be able to use more facilities. ▼ The information of the board gets updated frequently. It would be best to check them whenever you have the chance. ▼

[選択可: 行動力]

[Select: Activity meter]

ディミトリ: 当然のことではあるが、何の施設にしろ 利用すると相応の時間がかかる。▼ 一日を無駄にしてしまわないよう、 計画立てて行動した方が良いだろうな。▼

Dimitri: Although this should be obvious, an appropriate amount of time passes as you use each facility. ▼ It would be best to carefully consider your activities, so that you do not let an entire day go to waste. ▼ 

[選択可: 指導レベル]  

[Select: Instruction Level]

ディミトリ: この士官学校の教師は、 極めて高い水準の指導力を求められる。▼ 生徒だけでなく教師も、分野を超えた 知識を習得し、研鑽に励まなければならない。▼

Dimitri: The professors at the monastery are expected to meet exceedingly high standards of leadership. ▼ So they too, not just their student, must strive to acquire knowledge outside their field and study diligently. ▼

[Dedue]

ドゥドゥー: 殿下はお前を信頼すると仰った。 ならば、おれがお前を信じない理由はない。▼ お前が殿下に刃を向けるというなら、 話は別だがな。▼

Dedue: His Highness told me he trusts you. Therefore, I have no reason not to believe you. ▼ If you ever turn your blade against him, it will be a different story however. ▼

[Sylvain]

[If Byleth is male]

シルヴァン: よう、先生。暇してるんなら、 一緒に街にでも出ませんか？▼ まだ見ぬ美女を捜しに……。……いや。 冗談です。そんな目で見ないでください。▼

Sylvain: Hey, Professor. If you are free, would you care to go into town with me? ▼ I'm still looking for beauties I haven't seen yet and... No. I was joking. Please don't look at me like that. ▼

[If Byleth is female]

シルヴァン: よう、先生。暇してるんなら、 一緒に街にでも出ませんか？▼ 美味い飯を出す宿場を見つけたんですよ。 これは、先生を誘うしかないと思いまして！▼

Sylvain: Hey, Professor. If you are free, would you care to go into town with me? ▼ I found an inn that serves the most amazing food. I feel like I just have to take you there! ▼

[Felix]

Speech Bubble: ...It's you.

フェリクス: ……何か用か。▼

Felix: … Need something?

[選択:剣の相手を]

[Choose: Spar with me] +Support with Felix

フェリクス: ……ふ、面白い。▼

Felix: .... Heh, interesting.

English has him explain he doesn’t have time right now. Presumably because nothing happens after this. lol

[選択:用はない]

[Choose: It's nothing]

フェリクス: なら、さっさとそこをどけ。 目障りだ。▼

Felix: Then get out of my way. You are blocking the view.

Felix is extra special rude here, since you can also translate the second line to calling you an eyesore.

[Ashe]

アッシュ: あ、先生も植物を見に来たんですか？ 凄いですよね、ここの温室は。▼ 王国では見たこともないような薬草や、 珍しい花がたくさん植えられているんです。▼

Ashe: Ah, did you come to look at the plants too, Professor? This greenhouse really is amazing. ▼ They are planting all sorts of vegetables I haven't seen in the kingdom before, and a lot of strange flowers too. ▼

[選択:あまり興味が……]

[Choose: I'm not really interested..]

アッシュ: あはは、そうですよね……僕も、教わるまで 植物なんて全部同じだと思ってましたから。▼

Ashe: Haha, yeah before I was taught about them, plants all seemed the same to me too.

[選択: 詳しいの？]  

[Choose: Are you well informed?]

アッシュ: 僕の養父が詳しいんです。見分け方や、 調薬なんかも教えてもらいました。▼

Ashe: My adoptive father is the one who is well informed. He taught me how to tell the plants apart and care for them. ▼

[Continuing]

アッシュ: 先生も、気が向いた時に花を眺めてみるのが いいと思います。楽しいですよ。▼

Ashe: I think it would be a good idea to look at the flowers whenever you can, Professor. It's a lot of fun.

[Mercedes]

メルセデス: この士官学校に来る前はね～、 王都で、魔道の学校に通っていたの。▼ アン……ええと、アネットのことよ。 アンとは、そこで仲良くなって……▼ あ、ローレンツもいたんだったかしら？▼ 少し年上の私にも親しくしてくれるアンは 私にとって、かけがえのない親友なの～。▼

Mercedes: You see, before coming to the academy~, I attended the school of sorcery in the capital. ▼ Ann..- I'm talking about Annette. I got to know Ann at that place.... ▼ Ah, I think Lorenz also attended? ▼ Although I am a bit older than her, Ann got pretty close to me, so I consider her an irreplacable and dearest friend of mine~. ▼

[Ingrid]

イングリット: 青獅子の学級ルーヴェンクラッセの名は、ファーガス神聖王国 初代国王の尊称から取られているんです。▼ 青き外衣を翻す“獅子王”ルーグ様。 多くの騎士道物語に活躍が描かれています。▼ 書庫には、いろいろな書物があるはずです。 もちろん王国史や、騎士道物語も。▼ 是非、読んでみてください。 きっと新たな発見があるでしょうから。▼

Ingrid: The Blue Lion's name derives from the honorary title of the first king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. ▼ The „Lion King“ Loog, always garbed in blue. His deeds have been immortalized in various chivalric tales. ▼ The library ought to have many books about him. Historic accounts as well as chivalric tales of course. ▼ Please read them if you get the chance. I am sure it would give you a new perspective. ▼

Pre-mock battle discussion

ディミトリ:  いよいよ模擬戦か。はは、腕が鳴るな。 先生はどうだ？▼

Dimitri: It is finally time for the mock battle. Haha, I am eager to put my skills to the test. How about you, Professor?

[選択:楽しみだ]

[Choose: I am looking forward to it]

+ Support with Dimitri

ディミトリ: 良かった。先生の采配、期待してるよ。 俺たちも、勝利のために力を尽くそう。▼

Dimitri: I am glad to hear it. I have high hopes for your command, Professor. We shall also give everything for the sake of victory.

[選択: 勝てるかな]

[Choose: „I wonder if we can win“]

There’s nothing listed in the script. I wonder if it’s a gap. Again, something to check for later.

[Continuing]

ディミトリ: 大丈夫だ。 手強い相手かもしれないが、きっと勝てる。▼

Dimitri: It's all right. Our opponents may be difficult, but we will surely win.

クロード: やあ、お二人さん。 作戦会議かい？　俺たちも交ぜてくれよ。▼

Claude: Hey, you two. Having a stragey meeting? Please let us join in too.

ディミトリ: 勘弁してくれ、手の内は隠すものだろ。 相手が強敵なら、尚更だ。▼

Dimitri: Spare me, Claude. It's only natural to keep our hand concealed, isn't it? Even moreso if the opponent is so formidable.

クロード: そりゃあ光栄。ならば期待に応えて、 俺たちも奇策を用意しておかないと、なあ？▼

Claude: Now that's an honour. To live up to such expectations, should we come up with some plans of our own, or..?

エーデルガルト: ええ、貴方たちがどんな手で来ようとも、 それを上回る戦術で打ち破ってあげる。▼

Edelgard: That's right, no matter what you may come up with, we shall tear it down with superior tactics.

ディミトリ: いや、張り切るのはいいが……。 あまり、無茶をしないようにな。▼

Dimitri: Uh, it's nice to see you so invested... Just don't overdo it, okay?

エーデルガルト: へえ。敵の心配をするなんて、随分と 余裕があるようね、ディミトリ。▼

Edelgard: Huh, you must feel pretty confident to be worrying about your enemies, Dimitri.  

クロード: おやおや戦いはまだだってのに、そんなに 熱くなって……我が学級は楽をできそうだ。

Claude: My my, the battle hasn't even started and you are already fired up like that... My class should have an easy time of it.

ディミトリ: そういうつもりじゃ……いや、悪かったよ。 何はともあれ、実りある戦いにしよう。▼

Dimitri: That's not what I-... No, I am sorry.   Whatever happens, let us make it a rewarding experience.

エーデルガルト: ふふ、それはこちらも同じよ。 そうでしょう？▼

Edelgard: Hehe, the sentiment is mutual. Isn't that right?

Okay, so this line is skipped entirely in the English script and it is Dimitri who asks the question. Maybe because it does sound weird that Edelgard would single out Byleth for this when they are on opposing sides, but I can’t be sure. Would need to find a playthrough of the Japanese version to confirm.

[選択:お手柔らかに]

[Choose: Please go easy on us]

クロード: おっと、先生の本心はわかってるんだ。 負ける気はないって顔に書いてある。▼

Claude: Now just wait, I can tell how you really feel, professor. Your face has „We won't lose“ written all over it.

[選択: 負ける気はない]

[Choose: We won't lose]

エーデルガルト: そう。貴方がそう言うのなら、 手を抜いてあげる必要はなさそうね。▼

Edelgard: I see. If you say so, there is no need to hold ourselves back.

[Continuing]

マヌエラ: あらあら、みんな揃ってお喋りかしら？ すっかり仲良くなったようね。▼

Manuela: My my, you've already gathered for a nice little chat, haven't you? You seem to get along perfectly well.

ハンネマン: 君たちが親睦を深めるのは大変結構だが、 そろそろ作戦会議の時間だ。▼

Hanneman: Although deepening your bonds with each other is quite animportant matter, it's time for the mock battle to begin.

クロード: もうそんな時間か。 それじゃ、お二人さん。また後でな。▼

Claude: It is already? In that case, I'll be seeing you two later.

エーデルガルト: 貴方たちの力量、 確かめさせてもらうわ。▼

Edelgard: I shall determine your abilities.

Before the Battle

ディミトリ]さて、そろそろ開戦の刻限か……。 勝敗は先生の指揮次第だ、頼んだぞ。▼

Dimitri: Now then, it's about time for the battle to begin... The outcome depends on your orders, Professor. We are counting on you.

I skipped most of Jeralt’s dialogue cause it’s mostly the same every route.

[Turn one]

ローレンツ: クロード、お前の浅知恵など必要ない。 僕とイグナーツ君で敵の出鼻を挫いてやる。▼

Lorenz: Claude, your shallow tactic won't be necessary. Myself and Ignatz are going to hinder the enemy's approach.

イグナーツ: ええっ、ボク！？ まだ心の準備ができてませんよお……▼

Ignatz: U-uh, me!? I haven't mentally prepared yet...

English simplified this to “I’m not ready yet”, which is also correct, but it sounds a bit more adorable in Japanese.

クロード: やれやれ……向こうの先生を侮ってないか？ 油断すると痛い目に遭うと思うがなあ……。▼

Claude: Oh boy... are you making light of the professor we’re facing? If you're too careless, I think you'll be in for a painful experience...

エーデルガルト: ドロテア、貴方も前に出てくれる？ 敵を中央に誘い出したいの。▼

Edelgard: Dorothea, can you go ahead as well? I want to lure the enemy into our midst.

ドロテア: 了解、エーデルちゃん。 私にお任せあれ。▼

Dorothea: Understood, Edel-chan. Leave it to me.

エーデルガルト: フェルディナント、ヒューベルト。二人は 敵が来たら足止めを……機を窺うわ。▼

Edelgard: Ferdinand, Hubert. If the enemies approach, you two will stop-.... wait for your chance.

Edelgard has a weird pause in this sentence in Japanese. Like she is reconsidering something maybe?

フェルディナント: ふっ、任せてくれたまえ。 私一人でも役不足なくらいだとも！▼

Ferdinand: Hah, simply leave it to me. I’d say this is too simple a task, even were I alone.

ヒューベルト: くくく……貴殿一人では力不足ゆえ、 主は私の名も挙げたのですよ。▼

Hubert: Hehehe... It is because of your own lack of skill, that my lady brought up my name as well.

Hubert has the most stereotypical evil anime villain laugh of all time. The only reason I didn’t translate it as “Muahaha” is because it doesn’t flow as well in English.

[Defeating Lorenz]

ローレンツ: チッ、この僕が負けるなんて……。 模擬戦とはいえ腹立たしい……！▼

Lorenz: Tch.. To think I could be defeated... Even for a mock battle, this is most irritating.

This is cut down a bit in English

[Defeating Ignatz]

イグナーツ: あはは、やられちゃいました……。 新しい先生の指揮、流石だなあ。▼

Ignatz: Hahaha, you got me... The new teacher's commands are really something.

[Defeating Hilda]

ヒルダ: もー！　あたしなんて、 放っといてくれればいいのにー！▼

Hilda: Come on! You could have just left little old me alone, you know!

[Defeating Hubert]

ヒューベルト: むう……新任の教師の力の一端を、 見られただけで良しとしましょうか。▼

Hubert: Well... I suppose I'll have to be satisfied with simply having observed the new teachers strengths well enough.

[Defeating Ferdinand]

フェルディナント: エーギル家の嫡子たる私がそんな…… くっ、もっと鍛錬しなければ……！▼

Ferdinand: To think this could happen to a son of House Aegir... ugh, I'll have to train more.

[Defeating Dorothea]

ドロテア: あら……新しい先生は、 随分なやり手みたいですねえ。▼ 

Dorothea: Oh my... the new professor seems quite capable.        

[After defeating the other Golden Deer]

クロード: やってくれるね、先生。 これは本気でかからないとな……！▼

Claude: You did well, professor. I'll need to take it seriously from here..!

[If Edelgard gets close before the Golden Deer are dealt with]

クロード: ２つの学級と同時に戦おうってのか？ へえ、たいした���信だな。▼

Claude: You going to fight two classes at once? Heh, that's some self-confidence you got there.

エーデルガルト: 勝機が見えたわ……。 黒鷲の学級アドラークラッセ！　一気に畳みかけなさい！▼

Edelgard: I've spotted my chance... Black Eagles, go forth as one!

[If Claude gets close]

クロード: この森を利用して敵を迎え撃つぞ。 みんな、援護してくれ！▼

Claude: We'll attack our enemies using these woods as cover.  Everyone, back me up!

[Approaching Claude by going around the woods]

クロード: おっと、回り込んできやがったか……。 こりゃ強引に迎え撃つしか手はないな。▼

Claude: Oops, you got around... Looks like I'll have to use brute force.

[Byleth vs. Claude]

クロード: 俺は戦術はともかく戦闘はからきしなんだ。 だから手加減してくれよ、先生。▼

Claude: Aside from tactics, I'm not much for the battlefield. So please go easy on me, Professor.

Byleth: ….

クロード: 真顔で頷かれると困るが……。 冗談ってのは、わかってるよな？

Claude: Going along with such a serious expression is quite unsettling... You do know that was joke, right?

[Dimitri vs. Claude]

クロード:……なあ、王子様。お前、実は エーデルガルトに惚れてるんじゃないか？▼

Claude: … Hey, Prince. You're actually pretty sweet on Edelgard, aren't you?

ディミトリ: 無駄口を叩くのはやめておけ、クロード。 隙だらけだぞ。▼

Dimitri: Stop with the idle chatter, Claude. It leaves you wide open.

クロード: おっと、その落ち着きっぷりは外れか。 動揺を誘ったつもりが、残念、残念。▼

Claude: Oops, that didn't phase you at all. I was trying to make you slip up, what a shame.

[Defeating Claude with other Golden Deer still around]

クロード: あらら、やられちまったか……。 他の奴らの活躍に期待するしかないな。▼

Claude: Tsk tsk, you got me, huh... Looks like all I can do is put my faith in the other's efforts.

[Defeating Claude after the other Golden Deer]

クロード: おっと……油断しすぎたか。 金鹿の学級は、これで敗退だな。

Claude: Oh... seems like I was careless. Looks like this is it for the Golden Deer.

[Defeating Hanneman]

ハンネマン: 実戦を積んだ者の指揮は、流石に違うな。 我輩が手も足も出なかったよ。▼

Hanneman: As expected, having actual experience with commanding in battle really does make a difference. I couldn't hope to measure up.

(If Manuela is still around)

マヌエラ: 去年あたくしの学級が勝った時は、褒めも しなかったくせに、その態度の違いは何！？▼

Manuela: When my class won last year, you didn't give me any praise, so what's up with that change in attitude!?

[Edelgard getting close after dealing with the Golden Deer]

エーデルガルト: 隙のない見事な用兵ね、先生。 こうなったら、正面から当たるしかない！▼

Edelgard: You really are a peerless mercenary, Professor. In that case, I'll have to strike from the front!

[Byleth vs. Edelgard]

エーデルガルト: 何においても貴方を倒さないと、 勝利はなさそうね。行くわよ！▼

Edelgard: It seems no matter what, there can be no victory without defeating you. Let's go!

[Dimitri vs. Edelgard]

エーデルガルト: ディミトリ、勝負よ。 ここで優劣を決しておくのも悪くないわ。▼

Edelgard: Face me, Dimitri. No harm in testing our mettle here.

ディミトリ: ……いいだろう、受けて立つ。 君が相手であろうと、手加減はしない。▼

Dimitri: … Very well, I accept. I can't hold back with you as my opponent.

エーデルガルト: そうこなくてはね！▼

Edelgard: That's the spirit!

[Defeating Edelgard with other Black Eagles still around]

エーデルガルト: 私を撤退に追い込むなんて……。 厳しくなりそうだけど、頑張って。▼

Edelgard: To think I'd be forced to retreat... Things might seem bleak, but do your best.

[Defeating Edelgard after the other Black Eagles]

エーデルガルト: そんな…黒鷲の学級アドラークラッセが、 こんなあっさり負けるなんて…▼

Edelgard: No way... the members of the Black Eagles shouldn't have been defeated so easily...

[Defeating Manuela]

マヌエラ: やるじゃない。これ以上、無理をしたら あたくしが医務室のお世話になっちゃうわ。▼

Manuela: Now wasn't that something. If I push it anymore, I might be in need of the infirmary.

(if Hannemann is still around)

ハンネマン: マヌエラ君を退けたか。 我輩も心してかかるとしよう。▼

Hanneman: You took out Manuela? I should be carefull myself...

[After winning]

ジェラルト: よーし、そこまでだ！ 今回の模擬戦の勝者は……！  青獅子の学級ルーヴェンクラッセだな！▼

Jeralt: All right, that's enough! The winners of todays battle... are the Blue Lions!

ディミトリ: この勝利は皆の活躍あってこそだ。 ありがとう、よくやってくれた。▼

Dimitri: This victory was achieved by all of us. Thank you, you did well.

[After the battle]

ディミトリ: ……先生！ ここにいたのか。捜したんだぞ。▼ 今日は、みんなで食事にしようと思って。 反省会を兼ねた、祝勝会だな。▼

Dimitri: … Professor! This is where you were. We've been looking for you. ▼ We thought we should all go to the dining hall to eat something. A victory feast to serve as our debriefing, basically. ▼

[選択:祝勝会？]

[Choose: A victory feast?]

ディミトリ: ああ。ほら、あれだけ戦ったんだし、 腹も減るだろ？▼

Dimitri: Yeah. Come now, you must be hungry after all that fighting, right?

[選択: 自分も ？ ]  

[Choose: Me too?]

ディミトリ: 当たり前だろ。 今更、何を言ってるんだ。

Dimitri: Of course. What have I been telling you so far?

[Continuing]

シルヴァン: ほら先生、早く来てくださいよ。今日の 殊勲者がいなきゃ、始まりませんって。▼

Sylvain: Hey professor, just hurry up and come. We can't well start without the most distinguished of us.

アネット: そうですよ！　私たちが勝てたのは、 先生のおかげじゃないですかっ。▼

Annette: That's right! We only won thanks to you, professor.

フェリクス: ……そこの、正攻法しか知らん猪よりは、 幾分かまともな用兵だった。▼

Felix: … Compared to that boar, who knows nothing but frontal attacks, your tactics were somewhat decent.

イングリット: フェリクス。あなたは本当に、 隙あらば殿下に因縁をつけて……。▼

Ingrid: Felix! You’re really trying to pick a fight with his highness at every opportunity...

Bit less of a direct reprimand than in English

ディミトリ: いや、いいんだ、イングリット。 事実、先生の采配は見事だった。▼

Dimitri: No, it's fine Ingrid. Our professor's orders truly were amazing.

Lacks the line about encouraging to speak freely. 

メルセデス: ……それにしても今日は疲れちゃったわね。 私、お腹が減ってもう駄目かも……。▼

Mercedes: Either way, today was really tiring. I seem to also be quite famished...

アッシュ: あはは……実は、僕もです。 そろそろ食堂に行きましょうか。▼

Ashe: Hahaha, me too, to tell the truth. Let's go to the dining hall already.

ディミトリ: ……なあ、先生。 あまり、嬉しくはなさそうだな。▼

Dimitri: … Hey, Professor. You dont seem very happy.

[選択: そんなことはないが……]

[Choose: That's not the case...]

ディミトリ: そう言う割には、眉一つ動かさないから。▼

Dimitri: Even as you say that, your eyebrows aren't moving an inch.

Sounds a bit weird, but that’s how he puts it. Aka, you are as expressionless as always.

[選択: よくわからない……]

[Choose: I don't understand...]

ディミトリ: ……まあ、無理もないか。▼

Dimitri: ... Well, I guess it’s understandable.

[Continuing]

ディミトリ: 先生。俺たちはまだ出会ったばかりだし、 難しいのかもしれないが……▼ 俺は、先生とも喜びを分かち合いたい。 折角、こうして一緒にいるんだからな。▼ きっと、それはみんなも同じだと思う。 ……ほら、一緒に行こう、先生！▼

Dimitri: Professor, we've only just met,  so this might be a bit difficult... ▼ I want us to share in each other’s joy. After all, we're finally here together like this. ▼ I am sure the others feel the same. … Okay, let us go together, Professor. ▼

[askthebunker]

Sam and Gabriel talk, the gang goes on a quest to find Adam, an old friend returns, someone gets hit by a car, and Chuck proves how far he’s willing to go just out of spite.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing up?” Gabriel asked as he wandered into the bunker’s kitchen. There were a lot of people living in the bunker now, but the person he was always expecting the least was the youngest Winchester brother, Adam. The kid didn’t tend to leave the room he and Michael claimed shortly after they arrived, despite Michael frequently leaving to talk to him, Raphael, or Jack...sometimes even Castiel.

Adam pointed to a bowl of cereal with his spoon, his mouth full of the sugary stuff that Gabriel loved and Sam probably despised and didn’t know was in the bunker.

“Breakfast at three in the morning? You Winchesters are worse insomniacs than us and we don’t even sleep,” Gabriel laughed.

“Milligan,” Adam corrected as soon as he swallowed his cereal, “And yeah, I just woke up a while ago...didn’t get to sleep ‘til probably nine though.”

“Should get that checked out,” Gabriel said simply.

“I didn’t sleep in hell,” Adam shrugged, “And didn’t sleep when Mike was still...in me,” he cleared his throat, “It’s just hard to get back on a normal schedule. Fighting God and being stuck quarantined with my brothers isn’t exactly high on my list of things to call normal either.”

“Yeah, well...gonna be hard to ever be normal with my geek brother around,” Gabriel smirked, leaning on the counter.

Adam scoffed out a laugh, “You get used to him...eventually.”

“Yeah, only took me a couple hundred years of living with him,” Gabriel chuckled.

“Me too,” Adam said simply, going back to eating.

Gabriel hummed to himself, deciding to look through the cabinets as well.

“You ever gonna make a move on my brother?” Adam asked around a mouthful of cereal, “I thought the sexual tension would dissipate a little with Dean and Castiel finally getting it on, but there’s still you and then Charlie and Dorothy,” he snorted, “It’s kind of exhausting having to deal with it all the time.”

“Okay, first of all...you don’t even leave your room,” Gabriel scoffed, “Second of all...not your business and never gonna happen, either.”

“Y’know, I thought I was gonna marry my high school boyfriend...never thought I’d end up with an actual archangel. Never say never, man,” Adam shrugged.

“Never, trust me, kid. Just ‘cause you’re banging my brother doesn’t make you an expert on archangel-human relations,” Gabriel snapped.

“Might not be an expert, but we’re the healthiest relationship out there. Actually communicating is key,” Adam stood up, taking his cereal bowl with him, “Okay, enough interaction with you guys for the day,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen.

“You just woke up,” Gabriel called after him.

“Exactly,” Adam called back. 

Gabriel sighed, watching after him. He shook his head and closed his eyes, sensing the rest of the occupant of the bunker for something to do. Dean was in bed in his room with Castiel; Charlie was up in her room, watching a movie; Kevin was sleeping; Adam had returned to his room and was talking to Michael; Raphael was...oddly watching television (tempting to check on, he’d have to go back to that one); Jack was sleeping; and Balthazar was no where to even be found in the bunker. 

That left Sam, who was in the library, awake.

Gabriel sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

He would have to face the music eventually and he’d rather it be alone than in front of everyone.

…

Sam looked up when Gabriel came into the library. He was half asleep, resting his head on his hand as he read through another book, searching for some sort of answer where he knew most likely he wouldn’t find one.

“Hey,” Sam said softly, giving Gabriel an awkward smile.

“Hey, kiddo,” Gabriel smiled weakly, “Look, uh...we should talk about…” he gestured between them. 

“Yeah...probably,” Sam said, closing the book and rubbing his eyes tiredly, “Look, Gabe...we’ve been through a lot together.”

“We have,” Gabriel said, leaning on the bookshelf, “And I get it, trauma brings people closer...” he shook his head, “Sam, you don’t know anything about the archangel-human relationships thing. You know a lot, I get it, but…”

“So, what? You think because of me and Lucifer that I can’t...what? Have a relationship with you?” Sam asked, crossing his arms, “I told you I needed you, Gabe...I meant it. But if you don’t...want that, just say it, and I’ll back off, obviously.”

“Sam, I’m worried about you, not me,” Gabriel chuckled, “Fuck the Asmodeus shit, man, but you...you were my brother’s chewtoy for how long exactly?”

Sam grit his teeth, “So what? I’ve moved on, that’s what matters.”

“My brother did that to you,” Gabriel said quietly, “My feelings aside, I’m going to respect what you’ve been through.”

“Respect it by letting me move on,” Sam snapped, standing up, “How is it fair that just because of something I’ve been through, I don’t get to be happy?” he demanded, “Look, thank you for caring...but I’ve moved on, Lucifer is gone, and I want to be happy...with you.”

Gabriel pursed his lips, “Sam-”

Sam leaned down, pressing his lips against Gabriel’s.

Gabriel’s eyebrows went up slightly in shock and he put his hand on the back of Sam’s neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss. 

“Sam- oh,” Dean said in shock, causing the two to pull away, “Well...good for you. Bigger issues right now though, Adam’s gone.”

“Adam’s always gone, get out,” Gabriel said immediately.

“Adam’s gone and Michael can’t contact him,” Dean added, “So let’s skip the making out and go find cousin Oliver.”

…

“So Dean lost someone else?” Jack asked softly as they sat at the table.

“I mean...yes, Dean has lost many, many people,” Castiel explained, looking up from the book he was reading, “We’ve had many allies we’ve lost over the years, but Benny’s death hit Dean particularly hard, even though he won’t admit it.”

“I see,” Jack said quietly, “That’s very sad.”

“Yes,” Castiel said simply, going back to the book.

Jack stared at him for a moment before sighing, “I am worried about Adam disappearing like that. I know you said it’s common for him to fight with Dean, but I am still worried. Uncle Michael can’t find him.”

“Dean and Sam will find him,” Castiel said, “If Michael can’t find him, there certainly isn’t anything we can do.” 

Jack sighed, “I’m going to go to bed then...please wake me if they find him tonight, I’ll feel better,” he said before walking out.

…

“You really think none of us expected this to happen?” Adam scoffed, “We’ve been planning for this since we decided to help them the first time. You can hold me here as long as you want, Michael isn’t coming, dumbass.”

Chuck shook his head, “You know what...I regret writing you up sometimes, I really do. You’ve gotten under his skin in every single universe I make.”

Adam rolled his eyes, pulling on the ropes on his wrist again.

“You know there’s a universe where everything takes place entirely in Scooby-Doo?!” Chuck demanded, “And you’re...together in that one too!”

“You’re the one who makes the universes, it’s not my problem that Mike and I end up together,” Adam scoffed.

“You annoy me,” Chuck snapped, “Just like you annoy your brothers.”

“If you’re trying to get under my skin, it’s not going to work,” Adam said simply, “I’ve been through enough shit at this point, I really just don’t care anymore. You can’t make me lose hope like my brother because I don’t have any. I just don’t care.”

Chuck stared at him.

Adam sighed, putting his head back on the chair, “This is gonna be a long night,” he mumbled, looking down worriedly at the cut on his arm that was now leaking out the bright gold that he knew was Michael’s grace.

…

“Can you...feel him?” Dean asked, looking slightly grossed out when he said it.

“Vaguely,” Michael said softly, “Not nearly as strong as I should be able to...my grace is bonded with his blood, but it’s like my father is suppressing our bond, somehow. If I were closer, somehow...I would be able to find him.”

“Well, let’s load up then. We’ll drive around ‘til you get warmer or something,” Dean said simply, “Sam, Cas, you’re coming too.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Sam scoffed, “Our brother is missing, Dean,” he snapped, grabbing a duffle bag, “You might like to fight with him every other day, but some of us are worried,” he said before stalking out.

“I think you angered him,” Castiel said simply.

Dean sighed, “Thanks, Cas. Very helpful.”

…

“Anything?” Dean asked as they drove towards town. Michael was practically sticking his head out the window like a dog, but Dean wasn’t about to comment on it. Or comment on the fact that the archangel had taken shotgun, making Sam and Cas sit in the back...he would have preferred either of them to the guy who almost wore him to prom/was boning his little brother.

“West,” Michael called over the wind.

“Adam has witch in his bloodline on his mother’s side, yes?” Castiel asked, “We could try to summon him.”

“Was I the only one who didn’t know about that?” Dean demanded.

“Most angels know about the bloodlines of the chosen vessels, Dean, even the backup ones,” Cas said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “And you never spoke about Adam, so I didn’t exactly bring it up.”

“Wow, Dean, everyone knows you never spoke of your brother,” Michael snarked.

“Less talking, more tracking,” Dean snapped, glaring at him for a moment before quickly turning back to the road.

“Watch out!” Sam yelled and the Impala hit the person right in front of them, breaking the window as the impact was made.

“Shit!” Dean yelled, slamming on the breaks.

“Did we just hit someone?!” Sam demanded.

Dean jumped out of the car quickly, followed by the others, “Goddamnit,” he cursed, running over to the person who was lying on the ground, “He dead?”

The man on the ground groaned as he sat up.

“That is a vampire,” Michael said immediately, taking a step back, grabbing Castiel’s arm as he did to prevent him from going any closer.

Cas looked down at his hand on his arm, glaring.

“Oh my god,” Sam breathed out.

“Benny?” Dean asked in shock.

“Well,” Benny laughed, “Startin’ to get real used to seein’ your face when I come back to the dead, Dean.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Michael snapped, “Why are you shocked after the amount of people that have been brought back now? Kill it, we need to move on and find Adam...the trail is getting colder.”

“I…” Dean trailed off in shock.

Benny pulled Dean into a tight hug, which caused both Michael and Cas to roll their eyes for very different reasons.

“Dean,” Sam said, still looking at the vamp in shock, “I hate to say it, but Michael is right...we gotta go.”

“We’re lookin’ for our younger brother, he’s missing,” Dean said, pulling away, “We’ll...talk later. Come with us, you can come back with us.”

Benny raised an eyebrow, looking over to Cas and Sam, “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” Dean snapped, “But...he’s right, we gotta go. Everyone back in the car.”

…

Sam cleared his throat once they were back on the road and Michael continued to sit in the passenger seat with his head out the window. Sam was between Castiel and Benny in the back and it was...uncomfortable to say the least.

“When did you get back, Benny?” Sam asked, trying to break the awkward silence as Cas stared out the window.

“Hell, probably not even an hour ago,” Benny said, looking shocked, “Just...woke up. I was tryin’ to see where I was, lookin’ for a sign or somethin’, when you boys hit me with the damn car.”

“Sorry about that,” Dean said, glancing in the mirror, “Lucky you’re a vampire.”

“Lucky,” Ben chuckled under his breath.

“I do not approve of working with a vampire but I do not care about your sexual preferences right now, Dean,” Michael said bluntly.

“Who’s this guy?” Benny asked.

“Michael,” Dean told him, “Like...the archangel, Michael.”

“Damn,” Benny said in shock, “Why’s he hangin’ his head out the window like a dog?”

“He has some...soul bond or something with my little brother,” Dean grumbled, “He can sense him.”

“Well damn,” Benny said, looking at Sam in shock.

“What? Not me,” Sam said quickly, “Our youngest brother, Adam.”

“I am not surprised he failed to mention us, Benjamin, they left us to rot in Hell for ten years after being the reason we were in,” Michael said suddenly.

“Yeah, it’s Benny,” he corrected.

“Turn right,” Michael said quickly, grabbing the steering wheel.

“Fuck!” Dean yelled, batting his hands away and turning the little less sharp than Michael had tried to make them, “Hands off, you feathered dick!” he yelled. He stopped the car when they came to face an abandoned looking cabin, “Seriously?”

“Yes, he is in there,” Michael said immediately, “But it is warded, I cannot get inside by flying, I tried.”

“Well,” Dean said, grabbing his gun, “Guess we’ll go in the old fashioned way.”

…

Dean kicked down the door, “Adam?” he yelled, “Chuck, where are you, you son of a bitch?!”

“Only one heartbeat here,” Benny added as they walked inside.

Michael ran inside, immediately over to Adam, where he was tied to the chair.

“Dean,” Benny took a step back, shaking his head, eyeing the blood on Adam’s arm, “I don’t know how long I’ve been gone, but I ain’t back to myself yet.”

“Go outside,” Dean said immediately, taking out his knife and cutting through the ropes, “Adam? Adam, hey, wake up, man,” he said, touching his cheek, “Adam!”

“Fuck,” Adam gasped, “Michael?” he asked immediately, looking over with a tired smile, “Hey.”

“Move,” Michael snapped at Dean, kneeling down, “I will heal him,” he said, his voice suddenly soft, “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Mike, he...he took…” Adam choked out.

“Rest,” Michael said immediately, caressing his cheek, “You need to...are you okay if I…?”

“Yeah...Yeah, Mike, you’re good,” Adam said, offering him a loving smile.

Michael nodded and pressed his fingers to the side of Adam’s head and his blue eyes drooped closed. 

“What the hell?” Dean demanded.

“He needed to rest and I need to heal him,” Michael said softly, “He is not here...he just wanted to prove he could do this,” he choked out, his grip tightening slightly but not enough to hurt as he held onto Adam’s wrist. He pressed his forehead to Adam’s, mumbling something in Enochian.

“We’ll have to go outside in order to transport ourselves back to the bunker,” Cas said softly, “I can take the Impala back, if you want to be with your brother, Dean.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, tossing him the keys without a second glance, not taking his eyes away from Adam.

…

“So what was the angle?” Gabriel asked as they stood in the main room of the bunker. 

They were all gathered there and Adam was awake, sitting close to Michael at the table with a blanket around his shoulders. 

“He’s running out of moves,” Adam said softly, “He knew Michael helped out Sam and Dean and wanted to get to him, probably...I’m what gets to Michael.”

“That is not a bad thing,” Michael mumbled, his hand still holding Adam’s tightly. He cleared his throat, “My grace that was entwined with Adam’s soul is gone...I’m pretty sure he just wanted to break our bond out of spite for what I’ve done.”

“Yeah, sounds like him,” Gabriel snorted, “How you feelin’, kiddo?”

“Not myself,” Adam shrugged, “But...fine. Mike healed me,” he looked over to the guy standing beside Dean, “Who are you?”

“Benny, he’s a friend,” Dean said immediately, “You should get to bed, kid.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Adam said before Michael rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, the two of them disappearing.

“They’re probably going to fornicate,” Cas deadpanned.

Benny burst out laughing, “Can’t believe I’m sayin’ it, Castiel, but I missed you.”

[kbstories]

Synthesis

syn·the·sis (n.) A higher truth gained from two contradicting ideas.

Every man has a breaking point - even Luffy. Good thing Usopp knows a thing or two about overcoming boundaries.

(Or: Sabo is in danger and Luffy is stressed)

Tags: Post-Wano, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nakamaship, Canon Compliant (up until Chapter 977), Recovery, Usopp is MVP as always, Mentions of Ace

Spoiler warning up to Chapter 977. Anything beyond that is pure speculation.

***

There’s a poetic sort of justice to the fact that everyone knows and Luffy doesn’t, this time.

It’s fucked up, sure, a twist of fate so morbid only Robin would find joy in it, and even she looks vaguely sick. You see, repetition is a fantastic rhetorical device: There’s nothing more satisfying than a story coming full circle, when the intricate mosaic of setup and payoff results in much-needed catharsis. Simple and effective, any storyteller will tell you – and Usopp is damn good at telling stories. It’s the one thing he can be proud of, when everything else fails.

Usopp doesn’t feel particularly good about that – or anything really – right at this moment. Perhaps in future he will, by all the seas, he hopes he will because that means this too will pass, and they will emerge from it victorious, just another miracle by the miracle-working crew from the East Blue.

But right now, surrounded by the shaken faces of his crew mates, all he feels like doing is crawling back to bed and passing out until it’s all over. To run for the hills and never return.

Usopp can’t and Usopp won’t, however. Because it’s Luffy, and because he made that mistake once before and swore: never again, never, never–

The newspaper lies innocently between them, a few days old by the time it made it past Wano’s crumbling borders via a confused News Coo, a clearly-alarmed Bepo (he hadn’t even apologized for almost running over Brook in his haste to get to his captain, and looking back that should’ve been the first red flag) and Law bursting into the room the Strawhats have claimed for their recovery, covered head-to-toe in gauze and all warmth drained from his expression.

Usopp did not miss witnessing their ally that close to despair. It makes the bright smile Law shared with Luffy in their moment of victory seem like a distant dream, perhaps part of one of Usopp’s more ludicrous tales.

“They got him. They got Sabo.”

It’s like he dropped a live grenade in their hands, if grenades were made of words torn kicking and screaming from a nightmare they all share. Usopp wants to ask – They, who is they?! – and there’s always a ‘they’, the Marine or the World Government or CP0 or some other shadowy organization pulling the strings of corruption and misery. But it hardly matters because this… this is real, a realization that passes from Strawhat to Strawhat along with the black-and-white print staring at them from pages increasingly crumpled by nine sets of shaking hands:

Revolutionaries Defeated at Mariejois: No. 2 of the Revolutionary Army Successfully Captured!

And in their midst slumbers their captain, huddled in the softest blankets they could find and snoring away his injuries, and he doesn’t know.

The irony – horrible, grotesque, unfair, unfair – isn’t lost on Usopp. Two years ago, he would’ve killed to have this, to be there, to catch Luffy as he bled and screamed and burned at the pyres of his brother’s death. To save Luffy just as he saved every single soul in this room, Law included.

Please, is all Usopp can think of, begging to every deity he’s heard of and those he hasn’t, to anyone who will listen, let him rest. Luffy doesn’t deserve this, not again. Please, have mercy–

Zoro is the first to move and something in Usopp moves with him, a fledgeling sense of optimism fluttering pathetically in his chest. Because it’s Zoro and Zoro always leads them right when their captain is off saving the world or a country (or two). Yet all Zoro does is sit at Luffy’s bedside like a mountain shaken into rubble, a measured kind of collapse that hits Usopp square in the gut. He doesn’t know what the others are doing, doesn’t dare look away from their first mate, but someone is crying and someone else is murmuring comforting words, and that at least sounds like Sanji so the first must be Nami.

There’s only a handful of times Roronoa Zoro has yielded without mounting a counterattack right afterwards and none of them are memories Usopp wants to revisit. Not now, not ever.

“Who else knows?”, Zoro asks, the steel in his voice worn down to a dull edge at best, and Zoro’s hand settles on Luffy’s head so gently it brings tears to Usopp’s eyes, too. Luffy mumbles in his sleep and smiles, nuzzling further into the covers with the clumsy comfort of a napping dog.

Law, too, is staring blankly at that gesture before blinking, focusing anew. He’s so tense a muscle visibly twitches in his jaw with the heavy swallow working its way down his throat.

“Bepo, me. Now you. Kidd is suspicious but he won’t leave Killer’s side, not yet anyways.”

The mere mention of Killer serves as an additional sucker punch on top of the veritable tsunami crashing over them, on the mend as he may be. That could have easily been Zoro, or Bepo, and the haunted glint in Law’s eyes says he’s thinking of it, too.

Zoro nods, absently. “And how long till we can set sail?”

For the briefest of moments, Law looks like he’s going to protest. The Trafalgar Law they met a few months ago would have, grim and annoyed, and the one from just last week would too, exasperated and loud–

Since then, they have beaten one of the Four Emperors and sent another one packing with her tail between her legs, and that feeling of having your dreams within reach if you only try hard enough, if you truly believe in it and your friends and yourself, it forges a bond like little else does. Hope is a dangerous thing – it can heal as much as it can wound, and Luffy has taught them all, one by one, how to endure both sides of that coin.

This pirate alliance of theirs has long stopped meaning what Law had wanted it to, and instead turned into what Luffy promised all along: Something permanent, something unbreakable, that all-or-nothing sensation of trust that is as much a freefall as it is flying.

So Law just… sighs. He rubs at eyes deeply smudged with missed hours of sleep and close calls all around, and Usopp can see his shoulders bend under the weight of being a captain.

“I… I don’t know. But I’ll find out. I don’t need to remind you all that this– It’s not like Kaido. Our chances against Kaido were slim to none but they were there. That report, it’s already outdated. The world has been shifting with us being none the wiser, and it could be that Luffy’s brother is already…”

It’s like Law can’t bring himself to say it, as if even speaking the possibility into existence will make them lose something they can’t get back. His gaze flickers to Jinbei, briefly, then to Luffy, and sympathy deepens the lines on his face.

“I’ll find out”, Law repeats, firmly. “Just… be there when Luffy wakes up. Then we’ll decide.”

And though many things may have changed, two years and countless battles later, this remains the same, always, always. Being at Luffy’s side is a privilege and a duty no Strawhat will ever turn their back on.

Blinking the blurriness from his vision, Usopp looks at the bandages wrapped around Luffy’s chest with loving care and the deep purple of bruises peeking out underneath, and he clenches his trembling hands to fists and hopes. As long as there is a sliver of sky above them and the wisp of a current below, they will follow their captain to the end of the world and beyond.

Come whatever may. Because this time, they are here and they're not letting go.

*

Luffy starts craving food the next morning.

It startles Usopp, the hand that knocks against his head and snaps him out of his doze by his captain’s side. He stares at the questing fingers for a few uncomprehending seconds. Usually he’d laugh, spirits lifted by the prospect of Luffy waking up sooner rather than later so they can celebrate properly.

There is nothing usual about this. Usopp reaches behind himself to the solid weight slumped against his back, shifting fitfully.

Sanji comes to with a tense breath. “It’s just me”, Usopp mumbles and doesn’t ask if his friend is alright. None of them are. Instead he says, “He’s looking for you”, and watches Sanji’s eyes soften somewhere between relief and heartbreak behind the strands of his fringe, weirdly unkempt.

“Mh, thanks”, Sanji replies in a raspy whisper; he gets up and leaves, side-stepping the jumbled puzzle of limbs that are the Strawhat Pirates. Only once he’s out the door does he reach for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

Sighing, Usopp rubs his eyes until they ache in an effort to wake up. Fuck, it’s like he hasn’t slept for a year and it’s been barely twenty-four hours. Beside him, Luffy’s hand inches its way towards Nami – sleeping close enough to brush knees with Usopp, head pillowed on crossed arms – and Usopp reaches out, takes it gently.

Luffy’s palm is warm against his, slightly damp from the fever he ran the first few days of recovery. His knuckles are a busted, swollen mess even now, and Usopp is careful. It wriggles impatiently, this hand that knocked a literal dragon out of the sky, and then it settles in Usopp’s grasp and Luffy sighs in his sleep.

Usopp can’t help but smile a little. “Food is coming, captain”, he tells him quietly. “Be patient with us, okay?”

Back to waiting it is. Not for the first time, Usopp plops his chin on the edge of the bed and just… looks. With his straw hat set aside (and safely tucked against Jinbei’s chest where he finally found a semblance of sleep, napping against the wall on the other side of Luffy’s bed), Luffy is sporting a truly impressive case of bedhead, the rest of him lost in a helpless tangle of blankets he tried to kick off during the night. He actually looks his age, Usopp’s age, like this – just some nineteen-year-old punk among many and not the one-of-a-kind captain of a crew famous the world over. It’s a rare chance to soak up this side of Luffy, the expression on his face relaxed and peaceful and lacking the chaotic energy that’s so infectious even eternally-grumpy Law had to give up fighting it off.

A selfish part of Usopp wants Luffy to remain that way, safe in the afterglow of a war well-won and unburdened by the cruelty of reality. It’s the same part of him that remembers the loving smile Sabo directed at Luffy, sleeping soundly in someone else’s bed just like this, and asks, why? Why didn’t you stay put? Why are you risking everything when your little brother is right here–

It’s selfish because stopping someone from doing what they truly want is the exact opposite of what Luffy is all about. Because the thing Sabo yearns for is freedom, and as long as the Celestial Dragons rule over their paradise built on the backs of countless slaves, no one is well and truly free.

If there’s a fight worth dying for, it’s that one. And yet–

“He’s going to be okay, you know?”

Usopp jumps a little, his neck protesting painfully as he whips his head around. Nami snickers at the wince on Usopp’s face before she sighs, the brown of her eyes bright with emotion.

“This sucks but… Luffy is strong. He’ll know what to do. Traffy is with us, we have a fleet to back us up, we’ll call in every favor we’re owed, and then we’ll show those fuckers hell for taking what’s ours. Sabo will be fine. I’ll kill him myself if he isn’t.”

She huffs, then, having talked herself into that righteous kind of fury that’s uniquely Nami even if she keeps her voice down for Luffy’s sake. Usopp finds himself chuckling.

“Say, what’s our going rate for personal rescue missions against impossible odds again?”

“A lot.” The grin on Nami’s grin is knife-sharp. “The Revolutionaries will be in a world of debt just for making Luffy worry.”

“Good”, Usopp says, and grins back just as fiercely.

*

They let Luffy eat his fill, for one because his healing factor is largely based on burning through incredible amounts of calories in no time at all, and also because Sanji looks like he needs to see it.

As much as their cook has his gripes about the bottomless pit that is Luffy’s stomach: Only when his captain is back on solid foods and on track to regain the weight he lost while unconscious does Sanji allow himself to relax. For Usopp, this means making sure his own plate is damn near licked clean by the time Sanji lets out a quiet breath and shuffles to the open window to smoke. The rest of the Strawhats eat, too, a low hum of conversation taking some of the tension out of the room they’ve barely left since Kaido.

The only exception is Zoro, and Usopp can’t help the glances he gives the door every few minutes, as if he’d magically reappear just like that.

The negotiations have been going on for ages now. As far as Usopp gathered, the Heart Pirates are heading intel and logistics, while Momonosuke assured them whatever resources Wano Country can spare – after taking care of their people, Zoro had added with a huff when he’d checked in on Luffy around dawn.

That’s not the problem, then. Eustass Kidd is, and after all that happened around the Kidd Pirates and pirate alliances, Usopp isn’t exactly surprised the guy refuses to compromise when it comes to his crew. Killer is awake now, though, and judging by the explosive arguments raging on outside, Kidd is not happy with his partner’s input on the matter.

The all-too-familiar sound of three swords being drawn is loud in the ensuing hush, and every scrap of metal in the room vibrates from the near-oppressive wave of magnetism sweeping through it.

“Oh? Who’s fighting?”

“Zoro and Kidd”, answers Usopp automatically, sighing. “Again.”

“Ah, okay. Not seriously though, right? We promised them a party after all. Like, a big one.”

“Kinda? It’s hard to tell honestl–”

Usopp blinks and turns to see Luffy awake and tilting his head at him. His hands are yet to stop shoving food in his face and Usopp stares with his mouth agape.

“Y-you’re awake!”

“Yeah!”, Luffy says with enthusiasm, and not a second later does he lift his plate away from the ball of fur charging at him with the force of a bull. Calmly, Sanji grabs the food and sets it aside for later. 

“Luffy!”

Chopper’s tearful wail is followed by a breathy oof from Luffy as the reindeer clings to his bandaged chest in a flurry of hooves. Luffy chuckles, “Hey Chopper”, sounding pleased as punch that the doctor is walking all over him. Then he meets the half-circle of relieved looks around him, his smile only getting wider and wider.

“Hey everyone! I slept in again, huh?”

“Hey yourself”, Sanji murmurs around a smoke-filled smile. He leans out the window and calls, “Mosshead! Crew meeting!”, and the clanging of swords on metal immediately stops.

The Strawhats coalesce from all corners of the room, crowding around their captain whilst leaving enough space for the impromptu check-up Chopper is conducting. This, at least, is familiar. Frazzled as they are, Usopp’s nerves are soothed by Luffy’s easy-going compliance with Chopper’s orders to make a fist, breathe deeply, cough, does this hurt? and if the doctor’s hooves are marginally less steady than usual, well, it’s only to be expected. There’s a line forming between Luffy’s eyebrows though, and Usopp knows none of them are ready to answer the questions forming behind that pensive look–

It’s in that moment that Jinbei steps up, eyes a little solemn even if the smile on his lips isn’t. “Glad to see you awake, captain”, he says, and offers Luffy his hand, palm-up. Cradled with infinite care between webbed fingers, Luffy’s beloved hat looks small and unassuming; met with immediate delight by its owner, it might as well be a crown made of gold and the finest jewels far and wide.

“My hat! Thank y– Jinbei!”

The name rings with joy the same way it did during battle, and while Jinbei regards Luffy with some measure of perplexity as he’s drawn into a rubbery hug along with the hat, Usopp exchanges fond looks with some of the crew. Dire news be damned, it’s still a little unreal to have their tenth crew member finally with them, like, permanently.

They couldn’t have found a better helmsman in any of the seas, that’s for sure.

“It’s so cool you’re back! We gotta celebrate! Oi Sanji–”

“Not so fast, Luffy. We gotta talk.”

Those gruff words cut through the smiles and laughter like they’re made of washi paper; finally Zoro is there, skin glistening with sweat and droplets of blood pooling around fresh scrapes, and the unhappy slope of his mouth is an important reminder that fate doesn’t care about reunions and banquets of epic proportions. 

The change in Luffy is instantaneous, eyes snapping to Zoro’s. His attention shifts like the wind, a physical force in this limited space. Almost absently, he places his hat where it belongs, a captain once more.

“Zoro? What’s wrong?”

No one answers, the silence lasting a mere heartbeat and an eternity all at once. This is it, Usopp thinks, the moment balancing on the precipice before a future as murky and uncertain as the ocean’s deepest trenches. He closes his eyes.

“What happened? Tell me.”

It’s said with authority, a weight similar to Haki but kinder, reassuring rather than suffocating – and resolve takes shape in Usopp’s chest, an urge to keep his head high and watch it all unfold with courage in his heart.

It has a similar effect on Zoro and it’s only then, with his shoulders squared and gaze steady, that Usopp realizes how miserable he had looked without Luffy by his side. Guilt creeps on Usopp, acidic in his veins. (Later. He can feel shitty about all of this later.)

“It’s Sabo. Things… are not looking good.”

Zoro produces the paper – a different one, newer, and Usopp feels his heart clench – from the sleeve of his yukata and hands it over, pre-folded to the relevant page. All Usopp can see from his angle is Sabo’s smile, determination apparent even upside-down. It’s a re-print of his wanted poster.

Next to him, Robin draws in a trembling breath and Usopp reaches out for her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers to stop them from shaking.

“Sabo?”

It’s with clear surprise that Luffy utters his brother’s name, and Usopp watches helplessly as Luffy’s pupils flit left to right, reading, skipping over dense paragraphs and coming up to the picture at the top over and over–

Then he looks up, and Luffy’s eyes are wide with worry and confusion so earnest it hurts Usopp to the core. “I… What? But he was there, at Dressrosa. And he was fine…? I don’t understand. Is this a joke?”

Zoro’s eye narrows, something wounded there and gone like a shadow. “It’s not. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand”, Luffy repeats, insistent now, and he turns to Robin because that’s what Luffy does when something doesn’t make sense to him. “Robin?”

Robin’s hand squeezes Usopp’s, near-painful. All Usopp can do is squeeze back.

“The revolutionaries, they… There were plans to rebel against the World Nobles. The people in bubbles on Sabaody, remember?” Robin’s voice evens out and yet, her lashes are wet with unshed tears.

“It looks like they failed. We don’t know more than that – the Marine has kept the papers scrubbed clean, as always – but it seems your brother was in charge of the mission. They’re sending him to Impel Down, Luffy. That’s what it means.”

Impel Down.

Usopp can see the exact moment those two words sink in: all blood drains from sun-kissed skin, leaving Luffy’s face close to pallid in contrast to the mottled bruises underneath; Luffy’s mouth opens but no sound arises, no word of protest, no nothing, and Usopp would honestly prefer to see him scream to the heavens or burst into tears than this, this petrified sort of shock that doesn’t belong anywhere near Luffy. Then–

“We’re ready, captain.”

That’s Zoro again, and there’s a hard edge to his tone that Usopp recognizes as sorrow only because it mirrors his own. 

“Law has a plan, we’re fully stocked, the fleet is one snail call away. Killer wants to help so Kidd will come too. It’ll take a week to get there, tops. Just say the word and we’ll–”

“No.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper and yet, they all hear it. And even if they didn’t, Luffy repeats it once, twice, gaining in volume.

“No, no. We’re staying here. Sabo–”

Luffy’s voice cracks, and Usopp’s heart breaks clean in two, and Luffy pushes on, panting like he’s running a hundred miles in a hurricane.

“Sabo has his friends, and my dad. He’ll be fine, okay? He’ll come back. Sabo always comes back. So we don’t need to worry.”

That’s how it works: If Luffy believes in something, his crew does, too. It’s how they’ve always worked, how they’ve pulled off miracle after miracle and will continue to do so until they have sailed the entirety of the Grand Line and their captain is made King.

Something burns in Luffy’s eyes now and it’s not… that. It’s desperate, hunted, wrong. A lie said like a truth, and Usopp would know.

It occurs to him, in a distant part of his mind, that this is the first time he’s seen his captain truly afraid.

And it’s that what kicks Usopp’s brain into overdrive, because on this crew of reckless monsters he’s the one tasked with a healthy sense of fear, to manage the doubts everyone else doesn’t have because those are important, sometimes.

Because true bravery is a road made of boundaries and the means to overcome them, again and again and again – as many times as it takes to reach the end.

“Luffy”, Usopp says, and his voice doesn’t shake. He doesn’t let it. “We got this. We can save your brother. You have to trust us.”

In many ways, this is Usopp’s personal nightmare come true. He sees Luffy clench his trembling hands to fists, and his eyes narrow, and the vulnerability there bends into anger in an instant and it’s all so familiar.

“It’s not about that. It’s my decision to make, and I’ve decided. We’re not going.”

But this time, Usopp breathes. He forces himself to pause, just a moment, just so he can think and not lose himself to the panicked rush of blood to his head.

“We’re not gonna die, Luffy. We went through hell before and we came out alright, didn’t we? So we have to go. Please let us go.”

Suddenly Nami moves, kneeling next to the bed. She places a hand on Luffy’s wrist, gentle over the tense line of muscle there. “Luffy. Usopp’s right. Sabo’s your brother. He’s family.”

“I know that. I know–”

Luffy pulls away from her, from all of them, hides his face in his hands and pushes his fingers into his eyes hard enough that the bones in his hand show, thin and fragile-looking. One by one, tears start dripping down his palms and to the covers below.

“You guys don’t understand”, he says, his voice a hoarse, quivering mess. “You think you’ve seen hell but you haven’t, ‘cause Impel Down is hell and if we go there– There’s no way we’re getting out. Not a-all of us.”

It’s so quiet Usopp can’t even hear anyone else breathing but Luffy, every inhale hitched and barely realized before rushing back out. It’s like he can’t but speak, the horrors he’s seen and never talked about strangling him from the inside.

“Back then I wasn’t thinking ‘cause it was A-Ace, and he was trapped in there and not free, and just the thought of him dying like that made me sick. I only survived ‘cause I had a ton of help and ‘cause a bunch of people died instead of me.”

Luffy stops, and breathes, and rubs his arm across his face until the tears are gone. Usopp doesn’t mention he’s probably ruining the careful work Chopper put into binding that arm. Chopper himself is too busy crying his eyes out against Franky’s shoulder to really notice.

“I’m not risking it”, Luffy says then, eyes dull and red-rimmed. “Mariejois – that’s at Sabaody, right? Marineford and G-1 are around there, too. It’s gonna be a huge mess, again, and I…”

I can’t do it, not again.

It goes unsaid, in the end; perhaps, despite everything, Luffy isn’t actually capable of expressing something so devoid of hope, so close to giving up. That’s… more than nothing, it’s enough to hold on to, and that’s exactly what Usopp does.

“Then we won’t go to Impel Down. And we won’t go to Marineford, or G-1, or wherever those assholes are gonna make a show out of– That. Okay, Luffy? We won’t go to any of those places.”

“But… then how…?”

Usopp searches for Zoro, his gaze bridging the few feet between them that feel endless and Zoro blinks and gives him that devil-may-care smirk of his. To Zoro’s credit, it almost looks right.

“We’re pirates”, says Usopp with enough conviction for both Luffy and himself. For all of them, really, for one brilliant moment.

“We’re going to catch them at sea, because we have the best navigator and the fastest ship and the most skilled helmsman. We’re going to fuck them up because we have the strongest swordsman and a musician who can cut through souls and a freaking cyborg with laser beams and Nico Robin. And we’re going to be fine, because Sanji’s food raised you from the dead just this morning and Chopper can heal any wound and because our captain always leads us right. And even if they manage to account for all of that…”

Usopp grins with far too much teeth.

“We just have to get in range. I’ll shoot those bastards from so far away they won’t even see it coming, and if anyone even thinks of laying a hand on your brother I’ll shoot those off too.”

Luffy just stares at him like he’s seeing him for the first time, eyes swimming in tears. Then he laughs, an awkward, hiccupping kind of laughter that’s raw relief more than anything else. “That’s right”, he gasps, a hand rubbing at his chest where the starburst scar is currently hidden from sight.

“You’re right! We’ll save Sabo, and everyone will be okay, and then we’ll throw the biggest party ever. Right?”

“Right”, Usopp says, “and don’t you dare forget it”, voice wobbling all over the place now that his captain is smiling again, and he hears a fond sigh from Sanji to his left and a melodic chuckle from Robin to his right and Nami looks at him with so much pride Usopp doesn’t know what to do with himself.

It’s Jinbei he settles on, who gives his captain a soft look before he meets Usopp’s eyes half-way and nods, his smile full of admiration. For him. Usopp, son of Yasopp, from Syrup Village, East Blue.

None of his storybooks taught Usopp what to do after the heroic speech is over and the day is saved. And perhaps there is no trick to it, no how-to guide to achieve that dream of his – perhaps, for now, it’s enough to let himself be dragged into a rubber-limbed hug that threatens to crush his ribs, and share the laugh that found its home in his captain once more.

If that’s the case, then Usopp thinks he’s doing alright on the hero front after all.

[mssapphire]

Being emotionally responsible (pt. 2): learning from Asexuality

I previously wrote a post about what being emotionally responsible means, and how emotional illiteracy is really detrimental to keeping relationships (for yourself and others). 

Hanging out around non-monogamous communities (bdsm, swingers, polyams, you name it), you constantly hear people talking about “sexo-affective responsibility” towards their partner(s). But under the guise of ~sex positive~ culture, and owning and exploring your sexuality, people tend to focus a lot more on the sex aspect, and very little on the emotional responsibility side of it.

In part, I believe, because that’s not what sells. People want to have fun, and explore new avenues for pleasure and experiment. Because the sexual act itself is easy (although it’s never ‘just sex’ - and that’s a capitalistic lie). Could you imagine being that person talking about trauma and sexual violence in a space where people go to have fun? non sense! That should be something for therapy (if you believe in such a thing).

And if and when you bring up the topic of power imbalances, abuse, and issues of coercion/consent, generally the community tends to get very defensive and shout ‘shame! you’re shaming me!’ and point blank refuse to acknowledge any of it. Which, imho, doesn’t help anyone at all and just provides abusers from being held accountable.

What I wanted to bring up is how asexuality can help us understand emotional relationships better by taking the focus completely away from sex. Because, when you see sex as something accessory, you put all the value in the emotional bond you have with each other. 

[I will be referencing David Jay’s talk on the topic along the entire post (video can be found here, and transcript can be found here).]

David begins his talk by commenting on something basic and universal for everyone: the struggle to find connection. And goes on to define it like this: «And I want you to think back to the last time you had a really good, really deep conversation. Think about how that felt like in your body. Think about what it felt like to be that engaged with another person. That's what I mean when I say connection.»

What David is talking about here, this connection, is nothing but love in its purest and simplest form. It’s making the effort to know and understand someone, and have that reciprocated - and thus form a relationship.

And it’s important to understand that you can build love in any type of relationship, whether it’s romantic or platonic, sexual or non-sexual. Personally, I find that romance and friendship are simply in a spectrum of love that you find among equals* who have an emotional connection.

So, in his quest to try to understand how these relationships operate, David asks a very simple question: what makes some relationships more connected (or emotionally intimate) than others?

And the answer is simple: it’s about the time you decide to spend with someone. And because you find your interactions and connection nurturing, you decide to prioritize this relationship over others and spend even more time together, so the bond continues to grow and strengthen.

And then he comes to share the example on how he deepened his connection to his friend Brandon, by asking him to have a conversation where they talked about and acknowledged their relationship, how it was working and how they wanted to build on that.

And there was something about that simple conversation that was terrifying. But once I could sit down and have it with him, the relationship was transformed. It didn't become a romantic relationship. But being able to make explicit the way that we made decisions about time, allowed the relationship to be talked about, celebrated, and prioritized in a way that most friendships are not.

Here's what I'd like you to take away: as you think more about the asexual community, remember that our struggle for connection is tangled up in a culture of sexuality. And that in order to disentangle it, we need to understand how these things operate. We need to recognize that they are fundamentally the same. Whether they are sexual, or non-sexual. We need to begin to explore the structure by which they grow. So that we can write new scripts for new kinds of connection. And if we can do that, then I believe that our shared struggle for connection may become just a little bit easier. And imagine what the world would look like if it did.

What I like about David’s approach is that it  is inviting us to put aside all the feelings of (sexual) desire we might have for a person, and instead focus on the emotional bond - and make an active decision to nurture that.

Because that’s what love is: not just a passing feeling (no matter how strong it is), but the conscious action of getting to know someone on an intimate level and act on those feelings by strengthening and exploring the emotional bond further.

I think when we focus too much on the sexual aspects of relationships, we neglect to take care of what’s really important - the love part. Which is also the hardest part. It’s the part that takes up the most effort, it’s the part that takes up the most time, it’s the part that takes up the most mental capacity.

And when I see people indistinguishably relating to a dozen people simultaneously and then claim to be emotionally responsible, I can’t help but be in complete disbelief, because there’s just not enough hours in the day. People who also would never, ever, dare to have that type of conversation where the relationship is acknowledged - because they prefer to hide behind a thick curtain of “there’s nothing between us (relationship wise)” and “I don’t owe you anything” and “you’re responsible for your own feelings” - which is all just bullshit capitalistic consumerism of bodies (yes, I’ve been promising this post for a while - it’ll come, eventually). These types are simply completely unaware of what emotional responsibility actually means, or they’re simply lying (to themselves and others).

Once the emotional bond becomes the priority, then sex, if it happens, is an added bonus to that. Because if/when sex doesn’t happen - the bond is still there. Being able to talk frankly about your feelings for one another should be the utmost basic requirement for a connected relationship - and, if I may, could also be the stepping stone into repairing broken relationships.

That’s how you start chipping away and subverting at Romantic, Patriarchal, Heteronormative love. By actually learning to connect and being emotionally present for all of it.

*Here’s a piece on how some relationships are inherently imbalanced and thus real reciprocity becomes impossible.

[heath-ur]

00Q Kinktober - Day 3

Prompt List ; Ao3 Pairing: Bond x Q  Prompt: First Time (between characters)  Warnings: Smut, No Beta

One of these days, I will write smut without fluffy filler. Today is not that day. Have a cat.

Q shouldn’t be surprised and he shouldn't be flattered. But he can admit to himself that he’s a bit of both when Bond comes to Q branch after a mission - all swagger and class - and invites Q to dinner. His minions are all aflutter - of course they are - and are quick to point out that he hasn’t seen the sun in 12 hours. Q checks his watch. It’s 21:00. He wouldn’t see the sun even if he did leave now. He gives R a look.

R just nods very seriously and ushers him out the door. He spends a moment thinking if he should give her a raise or threaten to fire her.

The dinner goes well. Bond takes him to a quiet family restaurant and the first thing he does is pull a piece of folder paper from his suit jacket pocket and place it on the table. “As I remember from last time, you’re a fan of full-disclosure.”

Q takes the paper and opens it, a line of medical tests and results listed down the length. All negative. Q smirks and hands the paper back, “Well, I suppose I have time after dinner.”

The air is charged but they don’t rush. They talk about poetry, weapons, and cats. Q admits to having 2 cats of his own. Bond looks unfathomably pleased. Bond has been keeping his glass will-provided; he isn’t drunk but he is considerably looser than he was only an hour ago. He thinks, fuck it, and asks, “Woud you like to meet them?”

Bond legitimately freezes for a moment. “Are you sure that’s wise? I was going to offer a nice night at The Savoy.”

Q hums. “That does sound nice. However, I haven’t seen my cats in 14 hours and I can’t think of a single reason to hide my apartment from you.” He starts ticking off his fingers. “You’re one of my agents, I’m tempted enough to say I hope this is not the last time we…” He rolls his wrist looking for the word before giving up and continuing the list, “my only living attachments are cats, chances are you’ve already followed me home at least once, so you have at least an idea of where I live, and I do consider myself good enough at both my job and my pleasures to consider myself safe from any animosity. Add that to the fact that if you do injure me, M will reign the entirety of MI6 upon you.” Q shrugs. “I’m not that concerned about you knowing where I live.”

~*~

They crash through the door to Q’s apartment, lips locked and wrapped up in each other, Q clawing at the back of Bond’s suit as he leads them through the door and living room, attempting through sheer will to get them to the bedroom.

Of course, he’s tripped up by Gambit, enough that he should have been sent sprawling except for the quick reflexes of the Double-Oh. Q curses and with Bonds help, rights himself. Q glaces quickly around for Zugzwang, but he must be hiding from the commotion.

“Well hullo,” Bond goes to his knees. For Q’s cat. Q needs a moment to recalibrate his life as Bond eagerly scratches along the black beast’s back and that one white spot above his tail.

Q does not pout. “You have 2 minutes to cuddle the little monster before you start fucking me.” He crosses through the living room and into the bedroom, shedding clothes as he goes, unashamed.

“You’re just the most dashing little fellow, aren’t you? Yes you are.” Q can hear Bond fawn over Gambit. “But I’ve to seduce your papa so he can allow me back. Yes I do. Mmm-hmm,” he cooes.

Q does not melt. He doesn’t. You’re melting. Q crawls onto the bed and flops onto his back, watching the doorway. When Bond walks through and sees him naked, his eyes heat and he closes the door against Gambit. Good instincts. Otherwise the heathen would stare unnervingly from the dresser. Q wiggles against his pillows. “You’re supposed to be seducing me.”

Bond gins. “So I am.” He slowly removes his suit jacket, folding it precisely before draping it across the dresser at the foot of the bed. Next goes his tie. Then his cufflinks, which are stashed into his pants pockets. Q makes a noise in the back of his throat and reaches down to palm his cock.

“You’re convincing me. Keep going.”

Bond chuckles and begins unbuttoning his shirt, slinking it off. Then his trousers and pants are shucked off at the same time, folded loosely and placed atop his suit. Q abscently wonders where his shoes went, but that doesn’t matter as Bond prowls closer to the bed, standing close enough to touch the duvet with his thighs as he looks upon Q.

Q gets that look at his cock that he didn’t get to have the first time. Bond must be a grower and not a shower, because as he watches, the cock in front of him is still filling out. Proportionately girthier than long, but still long enough to get the job done quite nicely.

Q reaches out for him, and Bond starts the short crawl to rest above him, palms sliding across his pale skin, his valleys and swells. Q quivers, and smiles. “Fuck me.”

Bond’s laugh sounds more like a growl as he drops to his elbows and nips at Q’s lips. “With pleasure.” They lose themselves in kissing for a while before Q gets impatient and begins wiggling away, reaching out to his nightstand to pull a bottle of lube and a condom from the top drawer and slaps both against Bond’s chest.

Bond gets back to his knees and pops open the lube to spill it across his fingers, watching Q’s reactions the whole time. Q spreads his legs wider, opening himself up to the scrutiny. He reaches his hands up to his pillow to twist and pull on his own hair, excited and expectant.

The first finger is questing; it circles and pushes gently at his entrance. At Q’s fussy sound, Bond presses it in fully and Q sighs in answer. “More,” Q demands.

Bond responds with a short laugh and another finger, pushing and gliding and perfect. Q rolls his hips and bares down to feel the fingers twitch and scissor before crooking just there and …. Q moans, his heels planting themselves to keep him suspended just there, with the fingers pressing perfect against his prostate. “Yess…”

Bond begins withdrawing his fingers and Q tenses, ready to argue to get those fingers back. But Bond is just removing them to add a third in a smooth slide all the way to the webbing.

Q rolls his hips twice more, drilling the fingers into himself instead of waiting for Bond to do the moving. “Yes, yes. I’m ready. Come on.”

Bond chuckles and bites into Q’s collarbone chidingly, but removes his fingers to get the condom on. Some additional lube, and he’s propping Q’s arse onto his own knees and situating his cock against Q’s entrance. Q stops rolling to make the aiming easier, and sighs in contentment as Bond slides in as one smooth glide.

Bond settles himself more fully against Q’s body, his elbows propped by Q’s head as they share kisses and breath, waiting for Q to adjust. It doesn’t take long; Q wraps his legs around Bond’s hips, heels digging into Bonds thighs as he prompts Bond to thrust.

And, oh, does Bond deliver. He pushes himself back onto his knees and grips Q’s hips. He uses full, rough thrusts that hit just where Q needs them. The noises he lets out are accidental and primal; little uh-uh-uhs that break into whines when Bond switches his rhythm to something just a little faster.

Q can’t think; he’s getting to that space of need-need-need that feels overwhelming but also welcomed. He writhes and clutches onto Bond’s hips more fully with his legs. His hands are gripping, scraping, pulling - at his own scalp, at Bond’s arms and shoulders, at the bedding below him. He doesn’t… can he come like this, without Bond touching his cock? Does he want to try? He just wants to come.

He wants to come. He doesn’t recognize the ragged sob that comes out of his mouth or the babbling that follows. “Let me come. Let me come.”

Bond just shakes his head and states, “Not yet.” Q smacks a hand against Bond’s shoulder and reaches for his own cock.

Quick as a snake, Bond takes the offending hand and pins it next to Q’s head with his own bodyweight. “Patience,” he demands, pressing his face into the hollow of Q’s neck to nibble at the skin there. Worse, he slows his rhythm to a gentle roll; still hitting Q’s prostate, but with hardly any power.

Q cries in frustration and struggles some more, getting his other hand captured. He drums his heels into the bedding on either side of Bond’s calves and writhes to no relief before he goes limp. He’s suddenly so damn tired and he’s sweating and the sheets itch beneath him and he just wants to come.

Bond smiles gently, so gently, something that transforms his entire face and deepens all of those laugh lines around his eyes. It punches the breath out of Q. And only then does Bond pick up his pace, firm and steady and Q feels so damn full. Every so often, Bond will hitch his hips just to grind his cock just right against Q’s prostate and Q can hear the filthy squelch of the lube now that he is no longer fighting.

Q rolls his head back and forth across his pillow and tries to catch his breath through the hitching in his chest; through the feeling of his cock sliding through the hot and humid tunnel they’ve made of their bodies, the bump of Bond’s abs and navel; through the feeling of Bond’s cock sliding against his inner walls in a way he can’t quite predict, tapping and touching his prostate.

“Oh... oh… oh,” He sighs out softly and closes his eyes to feel everything. He feels, rather than hears, the rumble coming from Bond’s chest.

“That’s it, Q. Come for me.” He grinds just there, both his cock and abs rubbing just right and oh…

Q moans through his orgasm, fingers and muscles twitching gently but none holding tension for long. Bond stays still long enough for the flashes to clear from Q’s vision before he pushes up to see Q more fully, grinding his still-hard cock, question in his eyes. Q groans and throws his arm over his eyes but nods. “Yeah, yeah. Come on. Come on.” He rolls his hips in encouragement but otherwise keeps himself pliant.

“That was lovely, wonderful. Thank you,” Q clenches around Bond’s cock purposefully despite the lingering oversensitivity. Bond's breath becomes harder and hitches. Q clenches gently again and removes his arms from his eyes to watch Bond’s face. Their eyes meet and Q flutters his eyes closed again at a particularly rough thrust as Bond slips back on his elbows. “Yeah, can’t you feel it? I’m so fucked out, so..,” his voice croaks, “so loose. So good,” he croons in Bond’s ear, sliding his teeth across the lobe.

Bond groans and his cock pulses, the last few pushes erratic and sloppy. Q finds the strength to card his hands into Bond’s hair and hums. A few silent moments later and Bond slips out of Q’s hole to the accompaniment of Gambit’s meow at the closed door.

Q watches the fond grin spread across Bond’s face as he stands up and steps to the bathroom, cleaning himself and bringing a rag over to assist cleaning Q. Then Bond goes over, still completely naked, and opens the door for Gambit.

[sunstar-of-the-north]

Bonds: Chapter Seven

          SkekVet and UrSet quickly developed a routine in the last four days. During that time UrSet would assist the skeksis on his road to recovery. At first he was against this but relented due to the extra attention he was getting. SkekVet was strong enough to walk now, which he and UrSet took full advantage of. Currently the two were sitting outside of UrIm’s hut, enjoying a nice meal in the suns. The heat felt wonderful against SkekVet’s skin and the fresh air made him feel rejuvenated. He was in a pleasant mood, despite his unfortunate circumstance. He took a block of cheese and started to cut it. He placed the piece on a dark brown slice of bread. “I have to admit Scout; you urrus can make some delicious food. I mean it’s not as spectacular as the Gourmand’s, but still delicious,” He stated while eating. UrSet only nodded.

           The ex-lord raised an eye brow. His counterpart was uncharacteristically quiet today. He swallowed and turned to him. “What’s got you down in the dumps?” The Mystic looked surprised. “Oh—no. I’m fine. I have been deep in my thoughts is all.” SkekVet eyed him with a skeptical expression. He knew that the Mystic was hiding something. He didn’t want to ruin the mood however so he kept silent. SkekVet stood up once they were done with their lunch. “Easy SkekVet. Don’t stand up too fast.” He waved the Scout off. “Oh I’m fine! You worry too much.” UrSet shook his head, chuckling. “Shall we see if we can break your record by making it passed UrUtt’s hut?” The Spy grinned competitively. “You are on!” With that, the skeksis sped walked passed him, much to the surprise of UrSet. He laughed and gave chase.

           The two went far beyond the Weaver’s hut and were in the middle of the Mystics’ home. SkekVet was observing one of the six pillars stationed in a circle. He ran his boney finger over the swirls etched in the stone. “We use these pillars to deepen our connection to the natural and spiritual world,” said a deep voice. SkekVet turned to see a very old looking urru staring at him. He had many swirls on his face, showcasing all of his wisdom. He rested his thin hand on the same pillar the Spy was touching. The skeksis noticed that UrSet had his head slightly lowered, eyes closed. SkekVet raised an eye brow. “He must be important.”

           “How do stones help you ‘connect’ to the natural world?” UrSet raised his head, staring at his soul mate in shock. He was confused by UrSet’s reaction but his thoughts were interrupted when the other Mystic spoke. “These pillars were craved from the very soil of Thra. With each craving we made, we infused a piece of our magic to nature’s magic. As long as we keep the balance, our magic is tied to each other.” SkekVet scratched his head. This was one of the reasons why he didn’t believe in magic; it was too hard to understand. The urru grinned softly. “I hope that answered your query.” The ex-lord nodded, lying to safe face. “Where are my manners? My name is UrSu,” he said, bowing his head. “And you must be SkekVet.”

           “SkekVet the SPY, if you please.” UrSet turned as white as a sheet. UrSu however simply bowed his head again. “My apologies. I meant no disrespect.” SkekVet nodded curtly. “It is fine.” UrSu slowly sat down, resting his staff on his lap. “I was told by the Healer that you have made a full recovery.”

           “…Yes, I have.”

           “I am pleased to hear that. You were in a grave condition when the Scout found you.”

           The ex-lord shifted uncomfortably. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his near death experience. “What are your plans now that you have been healed?” The question caught SkekVet off guard. He didn’t think that far ahead. He struggled with an answer when the other Mystic stood up. “You do not have to answer right away. It is better to spend a whole day to think of a thoughtful answer than to spend a whole minute on a rash answer.” With that, he wished both SkekVet and UrSet a pleasant day. When the soul mates were alone, SkekVet crossed his arms. “He was weird.” His counterpart gave him an alarmed expression. “SkekVet, do you know who you just spoke with?!” The skeksis scratched his chin. “I think he said his name was UrSu.”

           “That was the Master, wisest of the Mystics!” He blinked, not sure what UrSet was going on about. “…And that’s supposed to mean something because?” The urru rubbed his face. “He is Connected to your emperor!” It took a moment for the skeksis to process what UrSet said. “…So…he is your leader?”

            “YES! And you asked him a question!” SkekVet raised an eye brow. “Was I not supposed to?” The Mystic shook his head. “No, you are not! The Master’s knowledge is unquestionable! His wisdom is far beyond ours and to question him would be like questioning the very laws of nature!” The ex-lord frowned at him. “He didn’t seem to mind when I did.” UrSet opened his mouth but closed it. He sat down, curling his tail around him. SkekVet also sat down, glad to be off his aching feet. “I thought you Mystics were all about finding answers for questions,” said SkekVet. “We…are… not when it comes to the Master though.” The skeksis was confused and a little irritated by his answer. “But why?” UrSet’s face was blank. “I…don’t know…” SkekVet turned his gaze to the sky. “It seems to me that you think too highly of your master. How are you supposed to further your knowledge if you take everything at face value and don’t ask questions?” SkekVet turned back to UrSet who was staring at him in awe. He felt uncomfortable by his gaze. “What?” The urru stared at him a little longer before turning away from him. “It’s—nothing.” A heavy silence fell between the two.

              SkekVet was startled when his counterpart suddenly spoke up. “Master also asked you a question.” He didn’t know what the Scout meant at first. His eyes widened when he eventually remember. He was quiet. He could feel UrSet shift his weight as he got up. “We better get back to our lunch before it spoils.” The skeksis nodded in agreement. The pair walked up the path, the quietness growing with each step.

***

              The Spy watched as UrIm was checking over his sides. They were fully healed, save for the scars running down them. “I told you I’m fine! No bleeding, no pain, nothing!” The Healer raised his dark brown eyes to him. “One can never be too careful.” SkekVet huffed in irritation. He put his robe back on once the urru was done. UrIm then left the skeksis to his own devices. He got up from the bed and examined the shelves. He has looked over the jars and pots ten times already, but it’s better than just sitting. SkekVet was about to pick up a jar but stopped when he noticed the glowing symbol on his palm. At the same time he felt something pull at the inside of his chest. The Spy turned around to see UrSet coming through the doorway.

               The urru’s eyes weren’t glowing, unlike SkekVet’s. He knew that something was bothering him, no matter how hard the Scout tried to hide it. Before he could ask what was wrong, UrSet spoke. “How are you faring?” The ex-lord rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.” He just smiled. SkekVet watched his counterpart closely. His eyes seemed dull and his face blank. “Why is he so…different now?”

                “…What are you going to do now,” UrSet asked softly. The skeksis was quiet for a moment. “...I honestly didn’t think of what to do next after I would be healed, other than leaving.” SkekVet noticed the subtle change in the Mystic’s eyes. Even with his experience on picking up the minutest detail, the Spy couldn’t read what the emotion was. He turned away and rested his hand against the wall. “I wanted to get out of this place for so long to get my revenge for what those traitorous leasing-mongers did to me. It’s all I ever thought about…” His face was twisted in anger and bitterness. “But then it hit me.” The urru cocked his head slightly, remaining silent. SkekVet locked eyes with him.

               “I have nowhere to go.”

               The Spy walked back to his bed and sat down. He frowned at his folded hands. “I have no resources, no army; I don’t even have a plan!” He sighed sadly. UrSet slowly waddled up to him, concerned. He took the skeksis’ fists into his hands. SkekVet allowed it, for some strange reason. He looked at the Scout. “…That’s why I have decided…” His soul mate slowly blinked, waiting patiently for his answer.

                “…to stay.”

                UrSet’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “You—are?” He nodded. “Yes, until I have what I need to get my revenge.” The urru grew crestfallen by his answer. “…You are determined to seek your revenge.” SkekVet bristled with rage. “Of course I am! I almost died—we almost died! They should bleed for what they did to us!” UrSet was silent for a moment.

               “…I will not stop you from your quest, but I will not help you either. I cannot condone what you are doing SkekVet.” The ex-lord snapped, “I didn’t ask for your help!” He then realized that UrSet didn’t oppose to him staying in the Valley of the Mystics. “Wait…you are allowing me to stay?” The urru chuckled, his warm personality returned. “Of course. You’re my soul mate. Turning you away would be like turning away half of myself.” UrSet’s eyes were now glowing green. SkekVet then felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore it by looking down.

               “W-What about the others?”

               “They will be fine with you staying. I think they are used to having you around.”

               SkekVet gazed into UrSet’s eyes. Even though they were filled with green light, he could tell that they were filled with happiness too. He couldn’t help but smile. It has been many trines since the skeksis felt so…safe. He will forget about revenge and enjoy this moment with his urru, for now.

UrSu/UrIm (c) Jim Henson SkekVet/UrSet/Bonds (c) Me

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Shippers on Deck

Summary: Jefferson is absolutely determined to make sure that Gold and Belle’s first date goes swimmingly. Ruby and the rest of the diner’s patrons are only slightly less enthusiastic.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “Captain and Lieutenant”

Rated: G

Shippers on Deck

“Jefferson, I’m pretty sure that what you’re doing right now is illegal. Or at least very dodgy.”

“Lieutenant Lucas, since when have we been worried about criminal activities in our mission? Did we, or did we not, accept that when we undertook this undertaking, we would be laying our lives on the line in pursuit of the greater good? Did we not swear to do everything within our power to see this noble quest through to its positive conclusion? Including risking incarceration?”

Ruby rolled her eyes and gathered up the empty coffee mugs on Jeff’s table. He was sitting in the booth furthest away from the doors with a pair of binoculars fixed on the window next to him. He was hunched down in the seat so that only the binoculars were visible from the window, but even so, it was very clear to all inside and outside the diner what he was doing. Namely, he was creeping on Belle and Mr Gold on their date.

Considering how long she and Jefferson had spent trying to get the two of them together in the first place, Ruby could understand his desperation to see everything through to a satisfactory end, but she thought that the binoculars were taking it a bit far.

Nevertheless… Now that she was here at the window, she couldn’t resist squinting out through the misty glass towards the library to see how the two lovebirds were getting on. For the moment they were just standing outside the library, talking to each other, their breath curling into wisps of fog in the cold early spring air.

“I wish I could hear what they were saying,” Jefferson muttered. “I knew I should have given Gold a microphone and an earpiece so that I can coach him through his wooing. To be honest, I was amazed that he managed to accept Belle’s offer of a date without any assistance. I was getting to the stage of thinking that cue cards might be necessary. I could have hidden under the counter in the shop with them.”

Ruby sighed and slid into the seat opposite Jefferson.

“Jeff, I know how invested you are in making sure that they get on all right, but they do have a little bit of common sense of their own.”

Jefferson raised an eyebrow. “It took them six months to admit that they liked each other to us, and then another three and a half to admit it to each other and actually make a move. They don’t have an ounce of common sense between them and if we’re not careful, then they’re going to completely ruin everything that we’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

“Sometimes, I don’t know if you want them to get together for their sakes or for yours.”

“Mine, obviously, Lieutenant Lucas! I can’t let all of this careful planning have been for nothing, I’ll never live it down! I have been the self-proclaimed captain of this ship ever since Belle first arrived in Storybrooke and laid eyes on my completely clueless friend there, and I want something to show for my time and dedication! I need to be best man at their wedding at the very least.”

“If you keep stalking them like this, then they’ll probably elope just to get away from you.” Ruby reached across and snatched the binoculars away from Jefferson. “I’m sure they’re going to be fine.”

She had to remain positive, because the alternative was turning into another Jeff and just being creepy about it. Ruby had been Belle’s best friend from the moment that Belle had first walked into the diner needing a guide to her new home; they’d bonded over pancakes and it had become the beginning of what Ruby hoped would be a lifelong friendship. Jefferson had been Gold’s sole friend and confidante for even longer, and naturally, when it became clear about two weeks into Belle’s tenure as librarian that crushes were developing mutually in both directions, they’d teamed up to make sure that lasting happiness would ensue. True, Ruby had never before thought of Gold as the kind of man to have a crush on a librarian. He never seemed to be at all romantic and she’d just assumed that he wasn’t into relationships at all. As time had gone on, however, it had become painfully and woefully obvious that ‘smitten’ wasn’t a strong enough word for his feelings. He was completely and utterly head over heels in love with Belle despite having never exchanged more than about five words with her, usually to do with the rent.

As Jefferson had said, it had taken a long time to get either of them to actually tell their friends about their feelings, and Ruby was fairly sure that if she had not taken matters into her own hands and practically forced Belle to stop beating around the bush and just say who it was in Storybrooke that she was nursing a crush on, they would still be sitting in a simmering hotbed of unresolved sexual tension even now. She’d almost been at the stage of shoving Belle into a booth and sitting on her to make her confess, and Jefferson had reached similar lengths of frustration with Gold.

Now though, everything had finally paid off and Belle had finally asked Gold out on a date, and he had finally accepted, and their evening seemed to be going very nicely. Wherever they had been, Gold was now walking Belle home to her flat above the library, and they were talking on the doorstep. Ruby allowed herself a little sigh of contentment, basking in the knowledge of a job well done, because if it hadn’t been for her and Jefferson’s intervention, there would be no way that they’d have got this far. Jefferson took advantage of her moment of abstraction to steal his binoculars back, sliding down below the level of the window again and not doing anything to make himself look any less conspicuous.

“Jefferson, you can see them perfectly well without the binoculars and it would look a lot less suspicious.” Granny had brought over a fresh pot of coffee and was pouring two mugs for the observers. She seemed to have accepted the fact that Ruby wouldn’t be getting any more work done until the two lovebirds had moved off the street, and indeed, she herself didn’t move away immediately after pouring the coffee, looking out in the same direction as Ruby and Jefferson.

“I’m trying to work out what they’re saying,” Jefferson muttered. “If I get it close enough, I might be able to lipread.”

“I’m sure that Gold will happily paraphrase the conversation for you if you ask him for a date post-mortem,” Ruby pointed out. Jefferson just gave her a look, and she reconsidered. “Ok, yes, it is Gold that we’re talking about here. But still, I think you’re taking it just a little bit too far.”

“What’s going on here?” Leroy and Walter had come over to the table, probably because they weren’t getting any service at the counter since Ruby and Granny were both preoccupied. “Is that Gold and Belle?”

“Yes it is, and it took them long enough,” Jefferson said. He refocussed the binoculars. “Hang on, guys, I think something’s happening!”

By this time, practically everyone in the diner was gathered around Jefferson’s booth, peering through the misty window until Ruby cut her losses and wiped the glass with her dishcloth.

How Jefferson had discerned in through the fog, Ruby didn’t know, but she was absolutely not going to credit the binoculars - still, sure enough, in that next moment, a collective gasp caught the observers as Belle brought her hands up to cup Gold’s face and went up on tiptoes to press her lips against his.

He seemed startled for a few seconds, but then relaxed into it with a smile, slipping his arms around Belle’s back and pulling her in closer as he deepened the kiss.

The bated breath that had been held in the diner was released in a huge cheer, and it was in that split second that Ruby realised that there were a lot of people invested in this kiss and that they were rather loud. Indeed, so loud that their exuberance could be heard through the window, and Belle and Gold jumped apart as if they’d been electrocuted, both of them turning in guilty slow motion to look straight at the gathered crowd who’d been watching them for the past several minutes.

Ruby had never fully understood the full ramifications of the phrase ‘life flashing before your eyes’ until this moment, because if looks could kill, Gold would have buried every single one of them several times over. She’d just finished going through all of the events of her life thus far and was now into events not yet occurred, like Gold hiking the diner’s rent to astronomical proportions, when Jefferson put the binoculars down and gave Gold an enthusiastic thumbs up. Leroy, Walter, and Granny had started a spontaneous round of applause that the rest of the diner’s patrons were continuing, even those who weren’t close enough to be able to see through the window and had no idea what was going on.

Gold’s expression softened marginally, and then Belle laughed, pressing a hand to his cheek as she turned his face away from the diner towards her own, distracting him with another kiss.

“All right, all right, show’s over folks. Everyone get back to your knitting.” Granny started shooing the other customers away from the booth, but Ruby lingered a little while longer. For now, Belle and Gold seemed completely absorbed in each other, no longer paying the audience in the diner any mind. It was so wonderful to see them finally acting on their feelings.

All the same, Ruby was still going to strenuously stress that it had been Jefferson’s idea to spy on them should the need to defend herself arise.

[doctortreklock]

The Breakfast Club - July 29, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: Breakfast in Avengers Tower

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Title: the movie “The Breakfast Club”

Words: 1573

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

The communal kitchen of Avengers Tower was in its usual morning uproar. Clint was sitting on the edge of the counter juggling eggs and cracking them one by one into the fry pans next to him, where Bruce was making omelettes with the vegetables Natasha had just chopped up. On the other stove, Steve was stirring a huge vat of oatmeal. Thor was in charge of squeezing orange juice, and had managed to splash every counter and flat surface in a four foot radius. Tony was nominally in charge of setting the table, though in actuality he was just sitting at the table fiddling with something on his StarkPad and complaining loudly about freeloaders and obsolete tech.

"--running missile software on eight-inch floppy drives, I tell you--"

"I think that's enough green pepp--or not, we can always add more."

"Maybe they didn't want you trying to interrupt a nuke launch."

"I require more oranges! Where may I find more of this mighty fruit?"

"It's well within my rights as an American citizen to know our nuclear warheads are--"

"I don't really think anyone believes you're curious out of 'patriotic duty', Stark."

"Where are the oranges?"

"Children," Phil chided gently, gliding into the room in full Agent Coulson mode and immediately taking control of the room. "Thor, there are more oranges in the pantry, bottom shelf on the left in the back. Stark, if the United States government required your input on nuclear protocols, they would request it. Natasha, I believe that's probably enough green pepper for Captain Rogers. Clint, please get off the counter; we prepare food there. Bruce, Captain, how long do we have left on breakfast?" His voice was firm, but Clint could see the warmth in his eyes that he only had when dealing with his favorite group of rogue elements.

The bustle of hungry superheroes fell instantly into smoothly organized chaos.

"Half a minute," Bruce called, absently poking at one pan.

"Just about ready," Steve declared. "Clint?"

Clint had just finished replacing the unused eggs in their carton in anticipation of the Captain's request. He hopped off the counter and whipped open a drawer, pulling a large, lopsided, crocheted potholder out of it and tossing it over to the table, where it landed neatly in the middle. Then he hip-checked the drawer closed and leaned over to give his boyfriend a short, but very warm welcome.

"Hi," he whispered after breaking the kiss.

"Good morning," Phil whispered back, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening in a smile.

"Oi, Barton!" Tony yelled, not looking up from where he was poking at his StarkPad. "You can canoodle with Agent later."

"Yeah, yeah," Clint shouted, waving an arm vaguely in Tony's direction and peeling off from Phil to help Bruce plate omelettes.

By now Natasha had neatly cleaned up her chopping station, the offending green pepper and her knives nowhere to be seen. Instead, she slid neatly through the whirlwind of her teammates to end up next to the silverware drawer and started picking through the haphazard mess of utensils with ease.

"'Scuse me," Steve said loudly, lugging the heavy tub of hot oatmeal through the kitchen easily. "Pardon me, coming through."

Thor stepped out of the pantry with an armful of oranges and nearly got clipped by the steaming pot. "Apologies, friend," he called, neatly sidestepping around Steve and back to his squeezing station. "I had merely gone to fetch the object of my quest and did not see you there!"

"'S fine," Steve said, concentrating on maneuvering the heavy pot around Tony's head, since the inventor didn't seem inclined to move.

Finally, the large silver stock pot settled on the potholder with a thud, and Steve sighed happily. "There."

"Hmm?" Tony looked up to find the oatmeal right in front of him and a supersoldier behind him. "Cool." He craned his head straight back to meet Steve's eyes. "We got any bowls?"

Steve put his hands on his hips and scowled down at the billionaire. "You do have legs you know. They're not even broken," he pointed out.

Tony just laid the back of one hand dramatically over his forehead and leaned sideways off his chair to get the appropriate depth to the motion. "Oh, but my good Captain," he exclaimed dramatically, "I couldn't possibly." He gave Steve his biggest, most beseeching eyes.

Steve wavered.

"Tony," Phil warned mildly from the other side of the kitchen where he had busied himself with the coffeepot.

Tony huffed. "Fine." He left his StarkPad on the table and pushed himself to his feet. "Don't know why I have to do this," he muttered. "It's my tower, after--Hey!" he shouted as a spoon clipped him on its way to the table. "What was that for?"

"Oops," Natasha deadpanned, holding a fistful of silver.

Clint snickered. He was attempting to balance two plates on each arm and one on the top of his head, but the omelette on his head was wobbling dangerously with each laugh.

"Two at a time, Clint," Phil told him exasperatedly, reaching for the plate, but before the senior agent could reach it, the plate had already tipped past the point of no return.

Natasha caught it deftly, twisting her wrist neatly to avoid losing the omelette. "Ostorozhno, yastrebka," she scolded him.

"Sorry, Nat." Clint's grin was bashful.

Bruce sighed good-naturedly, the last two plated omelettes safely in his hands. "If we're quite finished...."

"Why is the floor sticky?" Tony wrinkled his nose as his sneakers stuck to the tile floor.

"I have vanquished the orange fruits and emerged victorious with pitchers of glorious orange juice!" Thor proclaimed, brandishing a pair of very large pitchers brimming with freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Oh," Tony said, staring at the disaster of orange where he used to have a counter. "Is someone going to clean that up?"

"On it," Steve said. "Thor, the juice can go on the table. Tony, bowls." Steve looked pointedly at the cupboard behind the genius.

"Make way, friends, for the sweet orange nectar which I have wrung from yon wasted fruits!" Thor swapped places with Steve, managing to set the pitchers on the table without losing any or running into Clint, Bruce, or Natasha, all of whom were now flitting around the table with their plates and silverware.

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there," Tony said. "Hold your horses, Cap." He pulled the door to one of the upper cabinets open with a flourish, then paused and frowned. "Aren't the bowls in here?"

A suited arm cut across his vision and closed the cabinet before opening the next one over. "They're in here, the same place they've been for the past six months," Phil said, holding the door with one hand and sipping the coffee held in his other. "Grab seven. Clint," he called. "If you're done bothering Dr. Banner and Natasha, you could get the rest of the oatmeal fixings out."

"On it," Clint called, tossing Phil a grin and a sloppy salute.

Phil smiled into his coffee mug.

"That's disgusting," Tony said, gaping at Phil. "The two of you, in a public venue no less--"

"Bowls, Stark," Phil said, letting go of the door and turning to survey the table. The corner of his mouth turned up a little when Tony yelped at the cabinet door auto-closing on him.

It was almost time to eat. The table was just missing-- Natasha walked past him with seven glass tumblers balanced in her hands. Perfect.

Clint and Bruce finished putting the last of the brown sugar and raisins on the table around the same time Steve finished cleaning up the worst of the orange mess and Tony finally made it to the table with bowls. Phil topped off his coffee and joined them.

The seven of them converged at the table at the same time, pulling out chairs and sitting down before passing bowls of oatmeal around the table at high speed.

"Pass the raisins over here?"

"I thought you already had the raisins?"

"Didn't we say we were going to get two bags of raisins next time? Didn't we?"

"Where did the brown sugar go?"

"Give me the orange juice."

"Weren't we going to get dried cranberries for the oatmeal too?"

"Wow, that's--ahem--that's a lot of green peppers."

"I don't understand how you people can eat raisins. Ugh."

"The small grapes are most pleasing in a meal of steamed oats! You would do well to hold your tongue."

"Clint, if you throw one more raisin at Tony, we are going to be having words later, and you will not enjoy it."

"...Yes, sir."

"Wow, Barton, he's got you whipp--"

"See me after breakfast, Mr. Stark."

"...Fine."

Finally, Steve cleared his throat and looked around the table with his best, most earnest, team-building smile. "I'd like to thank you all for making time in your schedules for team breakfast."

There was a lot of poking at congealed oatmeal and scrutinizing glasses at that, the exceptions being Thor's sharp attention and Tony's uncomfortable scoffing. Phil just watched the whole thing with an air of faint amusement.

"It doesn't seem like a lot, but every bit helps when it comes to acting as a united force in the field." Then Steve put on his brightest bond-selling grin. "I'm sure we're only going to be closer after doing dishes."

That got him pelted with raisins.

--

Nat's Russian: Ostorozhno, yastrebka - Careful, little hawk (diminutive).