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hellfirenacht · 9 months ago

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Wing Man Part 8

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

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Chapter Summary: Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.

5.7k Words

a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating! I swear, I'm almost always thinking about this fic but I've been trying to figure out where to go with it. I'm started to see how I want to shape the story (over 40k words in, go figure). Thank you all so much for your patience!

Also, I've had a lot of people ask me about Paige and have shown interest in what happened between her and Eddie. She is actually from Eddie's prequel novel, Flight of Icarus! I'll still explain bits and pieces during the story, but I highly recommend reading the novel for the full context. I am trying to write this in a way you don't need to read FoI, but it does give extra context to the story.

Anyway, we continue.

Aside from the mixtape playing in the van, it was surprisingly quiet between you and Eddie. Despite his eagerness to show up and take you out, now that you were sitting in his passenger side seat again, he had no idea what to do next. The sound of Iron Maiden was rumbling through the van, crackling through the old speakers.

It wasn’t often that Eddie was at a loss for words or couldn’t come up with something to say. After embracing his role in the Hawkins High ecosystem as the resident loudmouth freak he could always come up with something to say to break the ice or cause a ruckus.

But, being loud wasn’t exactly a substitution for actual charisma. He could hold the attention of his Hellfire Club during the game, and keep them safe enough from most bullies even. But intimidation was different than... whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here. Flirting? That seemed right. He knew he should be trying to flatter you or compliment you or do something to show that he had an interest in you.

“So,” you were the one to break the silence between the two of you. “What have you been up to for the past two weeks?”

Eddie know what you actually meant was “What the fuck, man?” which was a really fair question.

“I should have called you sooner.” It was best to go ahead and rip the bandaid off now and get this conversation out of the way. “I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door as you looked at him. Despite your eagerness to get out of Family Video with him, he could see that you weren’t going to just let him not explain why he hadn’t talked to you. Not that he was going to leave you hanging like that anyway.

“My phone blew up.” Eddie said bluntly.

“Your phone blew up? Like... actually exploded?” you asked, trying to see if he was fucking with you.

“Remember that huge storm a few weeks ago? Turns out that old trailers don’t exactly have the best wiring sometimes so when lightning strikes it knocks out power for a few days and fries some important wires.” he explained. “So... yeah, we just got a new phone today and when I tried to call...”

“So, I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to track me down?” There was amusement in your voice which he took as a good sign. “Seems like you could have done that part earlier. I’m not hard to find.”

“I’m not exactly interested in stalking.” Eddie snorted. “I’m already on enough people's shitlist in town.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” you laughed. “You know where I live, you could have shown up at my doorstep in the rain or used random phones around town to leave weird messages about how you can’t stop thinking about me or sent me letters with cryptic meanings.”

“Where do you come up with these things?” Eddie laughed, feeling the tension between the two of you start to dissipate.

“I read a lot of bodice-ripper books.” you shrugged. “Trashy romance novels are a guilty pleasure sometimes.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?”

“Steve did about an hour ago when I suggested that Bozo the clown could be the shit out of Pennywise from It.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Every time you had shown up in his life, you had completely thrown him off. He was starting to suspect that no amount of “Munson Magic” was going to work on you. Not that he wanted to work his dad’s charm on you to begin with.

What he really wanted to do at that moment was ask you about your little bet with Steve. No, wait, not a bet. A deal? Maybe he should have asked Dustin more questions, or at least waited until after Hellfire to talk to the kid-

”So what’s the plan?” You broke through his thoughts once again. “You show up out of nowhere and have me get into your unmarked van to take me to a second location... is there a second location in mind?”

There wasn’t, Eddie really hadn’t thought that far ahead.He’d panicked after his talk with Wayne and had shown up to Family Video on the chance that you’d been there. He’d run straight out the door with every intention of finding you and let you know that he was stupid for not trying harder to call you before.

”I figured we could just... drive.” He wished he could ignore the sudden parallel between you and Paige. He wished that he could just forget about what happened in ‘84. Fuck, him and Paige never even had an official date, only hooking up in his van for a few weeks before everything blew up.

Wait, was this a date? Crap, that had been the plan right? Show up, ask you on a date and then... then he’d be on a date. What the FUCK was he actually doing? He was acting so fucking awkward now- everything had been easier before. Why did Dustin have to open his big mouth about this?

“Just driving sounds great.” you said, and Eddie once again tried to relax. Every girl he had been with had wanted something from him. Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan just wanted bragging rights that they got with the freak, and Paige had wanted him to be a rock hero. What did you want from him?

“Have you eaten?” It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t really early in the evening either. His uncle always asked him that whenever one of them got home, and it had taken Eddie an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was Wayne’s way of showing that he cared.

“I could eat.” you replied, which at least gave this... whatever this was, some structure for the night. Eddie didn’t have a lot of cash on him, but he could probably scrape together enough to get you each a burger or something.

When the Iron Maiden tape clicked off and spat itself out, you took it upon yourself to pull it out and look it over. “Got any other tapes in here? I need to judge your music taste.”

That made Eddie laugh “You and every other person in this town. I have a few more tapes in here.” He tapped on the center console which you eagerly dug into, flipping through the different cassettes with eagerness.

“Metal. Metal. Metal. Metal.” You said, going through each cassette one by one. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, Eddie.”

“What gave it away?” He said deadpan. “Was it that I play guitar or the fact that we’ve only bonded over music so far?”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“It was your hair, actually. You look so much like Eddie Van Halen it’s actually uncanny.” You looked up from the tapes and he could feel your eyes studying his face. He was glad that it was dark out now, as he could feel warmth rising in his cheeks at the comparison. Was that a compliment? Were you into him looking like Van Halen?

“Van Halen?” Eddie asked. “I figured I was more of a Kirk Hammett type.”

“The hair yes,” you agreed, still staring at his face as he continued to drive. “But your smile is definitely more Van Halen.”

When was the last time someone had ever looked at him with that much consideration before? Something in Eddie’s gut twisted as he glanced over at you for a split second to meet your eyes. Huh, that was weird. Had anyone made him nervous like this before? Yeah he’d been attracted to Paige but this was starting to feel different.

He really needed a cigarette right about now.

“I hope that’s a compliment.” Eddie managed to say as he fumbled for the packet of Camels in the cupholder by him.

“Oh, it is. I promise.” you replied, digging out a lighter and helping him light the smoke in his mouth. The world's tiniest supernova...

Eddie hated that the closest thing he had to compare notes on when it came to a healthy romance was two months with Paige and a handful of movies that he barely watched.

You went back to his tapes, and seemed to pick one out. You removed the tape that had been spat out, put it back in the appropriate case (which Eddie found himself appreciating), and he was surprised to hear the old riffs of Muddy Waters playing.

“A palate cleanser.” you said, leaning back into the passenger side seat.

Eddie felt his mind reeling from your choice of music. Muddy Waters had been how his mom introduced him to rock at a young age. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the well loved tape as he pulled into the drive in of the next fast food joint he’d seen.

When he pulled up to the window to pay, a fresh ten was shoved in his face before he could even reach for his own wallet. It took a moment for him to realize that you were wanting to pay.

“You got me out of work early, it’s the least I can do.” you said, not giving him the option to say no as cash was exchanged for a bag of questionable but cheap food. You held the bag in your lap as Eddie started making his way out of town.

“So is this an ‘eating van’ or a ‘non-eating van’?” you asked, messing with the top of the bag.

“I think I’d starve if I didn’t eat in here.” Eddie snorted. “Knock yourself out.”

You wasted no time digging into the fries and taking a few for yourself as Eddie went to the only place that he could afford to take you right now that might be date worthy.

Luckily, Lover’s Lake was quiet and private on weeknights. If Eddie had taken two minutes to plan this better, he would have thought to maybe clear out the back of his van and set out a blanket and have a picnic. When it came to music and D&D he was great at planning out details, with dates? Not so much.

This isn’t a date. He reminded himself for the hundredth time tonight. She’s just a girl that you ran over to spend time with the second it occurred to you that she might have an interest in you and she really willingly hopped in your van and your friends actually like her-

Shit. This had to be a date right? Neither of you had said the word but that’s what it was... right?

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts with the sweet smell of hot potatoes and grease was wafting under his nose. You had shoved a few fries in front of his face and Eddie wasted no time in taking them. You continued to absently feed him fries as he found a spot to park.

The two of you divided up the food on his dashboard, and Eddie rolled down the windows to let the cool autumn air in.

“So... what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Eddie asked, wincing internally. When was the last time anyone he knew had dressed up for Hallowen? Okay, so Hellfire Club did tend to dress up on Halloween for a special one shot but that was different- no one came to school in costumes anymore.

“It depends on my plans.” you answered. “Halloween is on a Thursday so I’m usually working. If I have a morning shift I’ll probably do zombie makeup for work, if Steve and Robin are working with me that day I think we’re gonna attempt to be Luke, Leia, and Hans.”

“And are you gonna be Leia?” Eddie asked.

“Ideally, I wanted to be Chewie but I don’t have the time for that.” you laughed. “Robin and I voted on Steve to Be Leia. Robin will be Luke, and I’ll be Hans Solo with a teddy bear.”

“Please tell me that Harrington isn’t going to be in the bikini.” Eddie laughed.

“Keith said costumes had to be work appropriate so, sadly, Steve will not be gracing the store with his sweater-vest chest hair under a bra.” You sighed dramatically. “It’s like he hates the idea of us having fun!”

“What if you have to close?” Eddie prompted, adjusting in his seat to lean against the door to face you as best he could. Next time he was absolutely clearing out the back to give you both more room.

“Oh, I am not closing.” you said firmly. “And if Keith thinks he can schedule me that day he can suck it because I have plans.”

You already have Halloween plans. Of course you would. It’s not like you had to worry about school on a weekday like he did. Eddie tried not to deflate in front of you and remained calm.

“And what plans would that be?” he asked.

“Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

He had, once, with Reefer Rick a few months ago when picking up his usual supply. A quick pick up had turned into a game of pool, which had turned into the two of them high on Rick’s couch watching an old VHS tape while Rick laughed his ass off and yelled at the tv before passing out in the middle of Tim Curry seducing Brad and Janet.

“Once.” Eddie said, not giving the exact details of circumstance. “With a friend, I didn’t really get it.”

“Did you see it in theaters or did you just watch it at home?” you asked, finishing off your food.

“Friend’s house.”

“Oh, no wonder you didn’t get it. Rocky Horror is an experience, you can’t just pop the tape in and watch it. You have to come see it in a theater.” As you spoke you were absently folding a napkin in your lap turning it into what looked like a heart. When you were done with that one, you started with another shape with a different napkin.

“Is that an invitation?” Eddie asked, tearing his eyes away from the way your fingers moved for now. He found his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if you were actually wanting him to come to this, and from the knot forming in his stomach as the shapes you were folding reminded him of the times he met you before.

“It is.” you confirmed, the ninja star you had shaped with the napkin was placed on the center console as you grabbed another napkin. “...It could also be a date.”

Despite the period at the end of the sentence, Eddie heard the slight waiver in your voice on the word date. It was that same nervous stammer that had been in Paige’s voice when she offered to let him move in with her in California, it was the same hesitant inflection that one of his Hellfire players used when they weren’t sure if Eddie would approve of what crazy plan they had for their character.

Aside from that first awkward meeting at the Palace Arcade, you had been pretty confident and upfront with him. Now here you are, laying out your intentions and seeing what he would do.

What would he do? Eddie had shown up at Family Video with no real plan. He only knew he wanted to see you again, and he knew that Dustin and Steve were trying to set you two up. And it’s not like Eddie was completely against the idea of going on a date with you. You were sharp, and you kept him on his toes, and when you smiled at him it felt like his brain might short out.

But he had also panicked when he had thought that you were going to kiss him before. After Eddie’s disastrous break up with Paige two years ago, it’s not like he’d been completely against any physical relationships. There had been a grand total of two other hook ups that he’d sabotaged. People weren’t interested in getting to know the freak, they just wanted to say that they had been with him. So both times, Eddie had made sure that he’d been a lousy date and a decent enough lay before deciding that he’d rather had a date with his right hand and a Heavy Metal magazine.

Eddie would rather the rumor mill call him a boring date rather than set a standard that he’d go out with anyone who asked. He wondered if he had, would Steve have put his name on the town marquis for the world to see? Would Eddie ‘the Slut’ Munson be treated any differently than Eddie ‘the Freak’?

Shit, you were still waiting for a response.

“A date.” Eddie finally managed to echo your last words back at you. The napkin you had been messing with in your hands was now taking the shape of a ninja star.

“I mean, if you’re interested.” you said quickly. “It could just be a friend thing. Or you probably already have plans for Halloween-”

“I don’t.” Eddie interjected. “It could be a date.”

He watched your shoulders relax and you smiled up at him. “It’s a date then.” You grabbed a napkin and your green marker out of your bag and scribbled something down, handing it over to him.

“In case your phone blows up again, here is the date and time and location for the Halloween showing of the movie.” your eyes narrowed slightly at him. “And my work schedule has been hectic but I consistently work on Sunday’s and clock out at four.”

Eddie got the message loud and clear, he would know where to find you now. There wouldn’t be any excuses for not reaching out, but two could play at this game. He took the marker from your hand and grabbed his own napkin, scribbling his own phone number down and handing it over to you.

“I’m at school all week, but I still play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.” He answered back. “Friday is Hellfire.”

With that, the playing field felt a little more level. Both of you now had the power to track the other one down or call when needed.

“So what are you going to be for Halloween?” you asked, tucking the napkin with his number into your bog.

“Oh, haven’t you heard? When you’re the town freak every day is Halloween.” Eddie chuckled.

“So what, you’re gonna put on a polo and khakis instead?” He liked the way you scrunch your nose when you laughed. “Ditch the jewelry and cover your tattoos?”

“That would probably scare some of the teachers at school.” Eddie had considered doing exactly that, but he really didn’t think he’d want that kind of attention. “No one dresses up at school anymore.”

“Boring.” You sighed. “I tried dressing up for Halloween my senior year but when I got to school my friends convinced me to change clothes.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type to let other people tell you what to do.”

“Now I’m not.” you shrugged. “I’m not in high school anymore, and all those people that I saw everyday? Turns out I was only friends with them because I saw them every day. Once you get away from that forced routine you realize that it’s all bullshit.”

Eddie could relate, probably better than anyone else. He was so sick of the day to day hierarchy of highschool that he’d scream it from on top of a table. Literally.

“What were you trying to be before your friends killed your fun?” Eddie asked.

“A pirate. It was last minute but I had a bandana, an eyepatch, a sock puppet with feathers glued to it for my parrot, and a wire hanger I was carrying around as a hook.” you laughed at the memory. “I ended up dropping the eyepatch before my friends made me change because I kept running into people. My wire hanger was confiscated, some asshat stole my parrot, and one of my friends gave me a sweater to change into. I didn’t even make it to first period in that outfit.”

Eddie had made it a point to not pay attention to anyone outside of his small group at school, only ever keeping an eye out for lost sheep that didn’t have anywhere else to go. He wondered, if he had seen you that morning in the brief window before you were pushed back into conformity would he have noticed you? Talked to you? You had already been nice to him before.

“Wait,” Eddie over at you, taking in the picture you had painted for him. “You made a sock puppet parrot?”

“I needed a parrot, or else no one would get it!” you explained. “But then when I took it off and left it to go use the bathroom it was gone. I finally found the thief in fourth period because they kept playing with it and squawking my own parrot at me. But by that point I had just cut my losses and had given up on Halloween.”

“Are you usually this crafty?” Eddie asked, once again looking at the final napkin you were folding into what looked like an old cootie catcher.

“I get bored easily.” you said. “If I don’t have something to do with my hands I can’t focus.”

“How’d you start with the whole-” Eddie grabbed one of his slightly used napkins and gave it a wave. “Folding thing?”

“Fourth grade show and tell.” you said. “I did not prepare anything and so I spent a full ten minutes in the school library to find something to show. I found a book on origami, found the easiest thing to make and realized that I actually enjoyed it.”

If that was a mystery, it sure did get solved right there. Eddie wanted to ask about Steve and Dustin. He wanted to ask you why him? He could keep his mouth shut, let this whole thing play out and see what happened. Eddie could sit here, and enjoy the fact that a girl was giving him the time of day and leave everything up in the air just like he had with Paige.

“So I heard you and Steve had a deal going on.” Eddie said. “Something about getting dates?”

You froze for a second, the completed cootie catcher in your hands. Things were dead silent for a grand total of ten seconds. Ten agonizingly long seconds. Even the cassette player had clicked off and was now whirring as it rewind the Iron Maiden tape.

Then you started laughing. A lot.

“Jesus, Eddie!” you said, wiping your eyes with the ninja star as a tear threatened to spill down your cheek. “I tell you I have origami as a hobby, and you follow up with ‘So I heard you and Steve are trying to get dates.’ Seriously?”

Eddie remained silent at your reaction, trying to process your laughter. You didn’t seem scared or nervous that he had called you out, and he had to admit that he hadn’t completely thought through the consequences of asking you that question.

“Who blabbed?” You asked, after your laughter had calmed down.

“Henderson.” Eddie admitted and, in an attempt to ease any lingering tension he leaned forward to rest his elbow on the center console and held his chin in his hand as he looked at you. “That shrimp informed me that you found me so irresistible that you begged Steve to set you up with me.”

“Is that right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Told me all about how ever since Chris Morrison shot you down, you’ve been desperate to get my attention to get back at him.”

“So which is it, am I attracted to you or am I using you to get back at a guy I talked to once in high school years ago?” you asked. Eddie saw a glint in your eyes, the same one he’d seen that first night at the arcade when at the air hockey table.

“Both are true.” Eddie continued to explain, a shit eating grin on his face. “You see, you were originally going to use me to get back at Chris, but then you saw me play guitar and instantly fell in love.”

“Damn, this sounds like the plot of a terrible movie.” you laughed. “So is this the part where I tell you that ‘It started out like that, but I swear it’s not like that anymore!’? Do I beg on my knees that my feelings for you are genuine, even though we’ve hung out a grand total of two-and-a-half times?”

Five times, but who’s counting?

“What’s the half-time?” Eddie asked.

“You ditched me at the arcade after I said I’d be right back.” you stated matter-of-factly. “I’m hoping it’s not a pattern where you start dropping off the face of the earth just when things start getting good.”

“Between you and me,” Eddie leaned in closer. “I thought Dustin was trying to set me up with Steve. Not you.”

Cue more laughter from you as you threw your head back. “Are you kidding me?! Dustin makes me and Steve show up to an arcade and tries to force a meeting with you- and you thought you were supposed to be dating Steve?!”

“Not dating!” Eddie clarified quickly. “You see, Steve and I only have one thing in common and that’s Dustin Henderson. Kid practically worships Steve. I thought he was trying to get us to be friends or something.”

“Oh my god, you thought Dustin was trying to hook his two dads up!” Your cootie catcher was now crumpled up in your hands, stained with tears from your laughing. “I’m a homewrecker!”

Yeah, this really wasn’t going the way Eddie had expected it.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” you said, your laughter calming down into giggles instead. “Have I been reading this whole thing wrong? I mean, if you have more of an interest in Steve I could probably set that up. He’s only ever shown interest in girls but you have long hair and are pretty enough-”

“No.” Eddie said. “I don’t have an interest in Steve- you think I’m pretty?” How were you able to throw him off so easily? He could tell that if you had been able to join Hellfire you would have been a menace at his table.

“Extremely.” you said, your voice more sincere now.

The two of you just stared at each other for a while and Eddie felt that same twisty feeling in his gut again. You thought he was pretty. That was good, right? Did you like pretty boys? You were pretty- he liked that a lot.

“I...” Eddie started and then dug deep inside himself to find the words he wanted to use. “Prettier than Steve?” Those were not the words he wanted to say, but he said them anyway.

“Steve is conventionally attractive but, as I said before, not my type.” you said. “I like guys with long hair anyway.”

Eddie really couldn’t tell if he was nailing this or blowing it. “So, what is your type?”

“I’ll tell you mind if you tell me yours.” you countered.

Had Eddie ever really thought about what his type was? Yeah, he’d had ill-advised crushes and had been attracted to various women in comics and tv but did he have a type? He tried to connect all the girls in his mind that he’d been with, trying to find a pattern.

Someone who actually pays attention to me. That’s pretty sad, Eddie. He came to the conclusion. Yeah, aside from his disastrous kiss with Ronnie five years ago, every girl he’d been with had been the one to show interest first, and you were no exception. But had he actually had feelings for the others? Not really. Attraction? Yeah. Feelings? Well, with Paige he had been far too busy dealing with Corroded Coffin, his dad, and school to really decide what he felt for Paige. Any other small flings had been dead on arrival.

So why did he keep wanting to spend time with you?

“Don’t go spreading this around,” Eddie started. “But if I had to pick a type, it’d be She-Hulk.”

“She-Hulk?” you mulled that over in your mind. “So tall, green, and angry?”

“Strong-willed, and funny as shit.” Eddie corrected.

“And green.”

“If I had known that earlier I would have picked Kermit the Frog as my Halloween costume this year.” you teased. “I don’t have a character off the top of my head, but I like people who feel.. Real.”

Real. The word that Paige and him had used over and over in those two months.

“What’s real to you?”

“Not high school.” you said. “Someone who’s not afraid to exist and be themselves. I’m most attracted to anyone who can let go of their desperate ego and just have fun. High school was boring because everyone was so wrapped up in their own bs of looking cool that they didn’t do anything that they actually wanted to do. Shit, even I fell into that.”

Eddie didn’t want to ask if he was real to you. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for an answer. There were lots of times he wished that he wasn’t still in school, but this time really hit harder. He was starting to really like you, and yeah part of him was terrified of that.

The two of you finished off the last of your food and Eddie shoved all the leftover trash into the brown bag and tossed it in the back so you wouldn’t be stepping on it.

“I don’t know much about real anymore, but I think you’re pretty badass.” Eddie finally said. “I mean, you brought a wire hanger and a fake parrot to school for a costume. That’s pretty brave, even if your friends did talk you out of it.”

“I’m more mad that the parrot was stolen and used to annoy me than the lack of costume.” you said with a small laugh. “They weren’t even funny. They just kept repeating what I said. It was easier to just shut up at that point.”

“Didn’t think to make them say anything embarrassing?”

“Oh, I tried. But, jocks don’t know the art of a good ‘Duck Season, Rabbit Season’ gag. Anything embarrassing I said they’d just turn it around. I’d say ‘I pissed myself in gym.’ they’d reply with ‘you pissed yourself in gym’. No love for comedy.” You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “If you’re going to be a bully, at least give me a good story to tell later, you know?”

“I once got slammed against a locker by a jock who called me ‘a myriad freak.” Eddie said. “To this day, I still don’t know what he was trying to mean by that.”

“See? At least that’s funny.” you said, and then. “Holy shit, we’ve gotten off topic.”

“There was a topic?” Eddie leaned back on the seat again.

“Yes, an important one that I was very interested in before we started talking about bullies and high school and She-Hulk.” you nodded.

Talking to you was so easy that he hadn’t realized how many topics the two of you had blown through in a short amount of time. He looked at his watch real quick and realized it was creeping towards 11 pm now. Had the two of you really been talking that long?

“What topic was it?”

“You flirting with me.” you said, your lips pulling back in a cheshire grin. “I’m pretty sure you were at least, before I became a homewrecker between you and Steve. Normally I’d hate to break up a happy family, but I might have to make an exception this one time.”

“Was I flirting?” Eddie tilted his head with his own grin. “I’m pretty sure I was just telling you that I thought Dustin was trying to make me be friends with Steve. If I had known that the shrimp was trying to introduce me to a cute girl-” He would have shot it down and canceled Side Quest Day- “I wouldn’t have left the way I did.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“Extremely.”

You nodded. “Alright, then it’s a good thing that we’re going on a date. I’m glad to know that I’m not coming between you and Steve.”

It was just past midnight when Eddie dropped you off at your apartment that night. This time when you leaned over the center console towards him, he didn’t freeze up or panic. Eddie let you hug him and he hugged you back, his cheeks growing hot momentarily when he felt your lips press against his cheek and he was able to breathe in your scent.

“See you later, Eddie. Oh, and for the movie- I highly recommend dressing up.” you looked him up and down. “Actually, just wear what you’d normally wear. I think you’ll fit right in.”

Eddie made a mental note to ask Rick later on what he was supposed to wear for this.

“I’ll call you.” he said. “I promise. I mean it this time.”

“Not if I call you first, I have your number now. And worst case scenario, I know where you play.” you responded. “See you Tuesday, Eddie.”

And with that you were gone again, leaving Eddie alone in the van feeling much better than the last time he had given you a ride. There were still questions he had. He still wanted to know why exactly everyone was wanting the two of them to meet again, and why you always so readily agreed to meet up with him. But those were questions for another day.

“You had a missed call.” Wayne said as Eddie made his way into the trailer. “Didn’t leave a name or number. Said she’d call you back.”

Eddie laughed and shook his head, guess you meant it when you said you’d call first.

“Don’t stay up too late watching tv.” Eddie said before heading towards his bedroom. He once again found himself falling asleep with his copy of The Hobbit, the origami flower tucked safely in the back.

Next Chapter

Ending note: This fic takes place during October 1985. Stephen King’s It did not come out until September 1986. I would like to ask you all politely to suspend your disbelief for the historical inaccuracy of a piece of dialogue that probably didn’t add much to the plot. If this horrible inaccuracy bothers you, please repeat to yourself “it’s just a fic, I should really just relax” which is what most of us should be doing anyway.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirl320 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3 @siriuslysmoking @pookiesnatcher @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @takemetoneverlandbabe @killjoynotes @maelibo

#nacht post #nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #wing man

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moodymisty · 3 months ago

Note

I request that you write about whatever 40k character you've currently got brainworms for. Space Marine or Primarch, smut, angst, or fluff, it don't matter to me. I love them all, and everything you write ends up being a treat to read :)

Author's note: If you or any other serf you know is suffering from Sad Pussy Disease, please report to your nearest Captain.

Relationships: Theo (Lamenter OC)/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Vaguely lewd, Slight period kink,

Theo's vox begins to hail with a sudden alarm across his helmet's hud, from a channel he recognizes. He steps away for a brief moment and pulling off from his squad of brothers, before answering.

"What is wrong?"

He says, voice filled with worry. A million different things races through his mind with a speed that only an astartes can muster.

He gave this channel to you for emergencies- to make sure you were safe while he was gone. Serfs generally took good care of each other but Theo knew you were outcast by a lot of them since becoming his personal serf, friendships fading away as you moved to his quarters to tend to him. He wanted to give you the ability to tell him if something was wrong; If he needed to perhaps even ask a favor of a brother.

Moments after he speaks your voice is like a gentle song that washes over him, even with the crackle and distortion of a vox channel reaching the limits of its communications span. He can see distantly up in orbit the ship you're on from his position planetside, but even that stretches the limits of his short range comms.

"...I miss you..."

Theo lets out a massive sigh from his three lungs, once he realizes you aren't in danger. His voice loses that sense of worry and instead changes to a more stern tone.

"This channel was not for you to use unless there was an emergency." You whine, and Theo feels his resolve break a bit; He hates how your pleading and begging tears right through his armor at his resolve. "We are ahead of our projections, we should return by the end of the solar week." You whine again, and he can just barely hear you rolling around on his cot.

"If this next advancement goes to plan as well, some of us might return to the ship to regroup. I might see you then."

Theo ignores a curious look from a fellow Lamenter passing by, who then realizes he's standing so oddly away from them due to taking on vox.

"But you will still have your armor on?" Theo wonders what is with all your odd questions, but answers anyways.

"Yes, but I can still visit you with-'

You let out an even louder whine, cutting him off.

"But I miss you, Theo."

He doesn't get what you mean at first, before you clarify. There's a desperation and sadness in your voice he isn't entirely familiar with.

"My cycle just started and I miss you, nothing else is working I just want you..."

You can hear the crackle of silence over the vox, before he clears his throat. This was the last thing he needed to hear while being swamped in enemy fire underneath the sweltering heat of this desert world. Sand crunches in the seams of his armor, while he can only think of the softness of your skin.

"My fingers don't feel as good as you..."

Theo has been feeling hungry, having been at least two Terran months since he last bit you, and now he knows that with your cycle- you had taught him the term and it's meaning in a lengthy conversation- started, he now has a literal feast laying in his quarters right now. One that is whining, begging for his cock.

Theo walks away a bit farther, to avoid anyone hearing his voice through his helmet. Astartes ears are more than a bit keen, and even if they're busy talking through battlefield theoreticals he does not want them catching even a single word of this.

But it is not... Unheard of around the Lamenters for them to take solace in their baseline refugees. It is also not unheard of for serfs like you that bleed monthly to be rare meals for wayward Lamenters; The scent alone oftentimes has them drooling, and to have a taste of blood with less risk of injuring their baseline companions is a tantalizing opinion.

"My love, I will return to you soon,"

He is going to punish you for this; Now he has to fight in this dead, skeleton filled desert knowing he has you wet and waiting for him in the confines of his quarters.

"And when I am back, I am going to mouth that cunt of yours until you regret ever using this vox for reasons you weren't supposed to."

He hears your excited little noise. He knows he's giving you exactly what you want, but he can't help it. Neither his heart or stomach will allow it.

"l'll see you soon,"

You say with a pep on your voice, the sound of something happy to get their way. Theo wonders if you realize just how rare you are to be able to command an astartes.

"Soon. Now end this vox and do not touch it again unless you are in danger."

You do as he tells you, but he swears he can hear the start of a laugh right before you cut the connection.

#space marine x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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drunkenskunk · 11 months ago

Text

So I've been playing a lot of Helldivers II, and it's really fun!

(at least, it is when the servers are working lmao)

However: there is one thing about the game that annoys me. It's the same thing that always annoys me whenever drop pods are mentioned in science fiction.

Nobody ever seems to get them right!

Whenever drop pods show up, they always seem to depict each pod as a single projectile rocketing towards the surface of a planet, usually behind enemy lines. They're the logical sci fi evolution of airborne infantry dropping in by parachute, because a lot of military sci fi tropes have trouble moving past WWII. And, y'know, that's fine. That's not the issue I have.

The issue is the single projectile part.

It's almost like every writer who includes drop pods forget that anti-aircraft weapons and SAM sites are currently a thing in the real world and would almost certainly still exist and be better in the science fiction space future. Those drop pods rocketing towards the surface would present the juiciest targets imaginable and would almost certainly get shot out of the sky before they even got close to impacting on the surface.

Annoyingly, the only sci fi that I know of to ever get drop pods right is the first one to ever do it: the Starship Troopers novel by Robert Heinlein.

Now, say what you will about Heinlein - and I do, quite often. For the most part, he's not that great of a writer, and his politics are terrible. The man was an asshole who loved writing wet farts of fascist porn, and the novel absolutely pales in comparison to Paul Verhoeven's 1998 masterpiece of satire, where he took one look at the book, rolled his eyes, and started making jerk-off motions.

But when I first read the novel when I was, like, 6 years old, I was a dumbass child and didn't notice (or care) about the... I mean, I'd call it "fascist subtext" except that it's literally just The Text. No, what drew me in was the one singular thing Heinlein was actually good at writing: technical sequences, written from an in-universe lens.

The way he described how the drop pods actually work in the first few pages of the novel - and, more importantly, how they don't immediately get shot out of the sky - is great! It makes sense, it's easy to understand (because Johnny Rico is, let's be honest: an idiot, he's not going to give you a complicated explanation), and it fills in a plot hole you never realized was there.

For as many faults as the man had as both a writer and a human being, and for all the many problems the rest of the book has, that first chapter - and specifically the drop pod sequence - is a great hook.

Like, this is the template for drop pods. This is The Thing that people are referencing whenever drop pods show up in sci fi, like in fucking Halo, or Starcraft, or Warhammer 40k. And everyone always seems to forget the single most important thing about this infantry delivery system: the countermeasures.

I dunno. This is just one of those things that's always annoyed me.

#drunk skunk rant #scifi #drop pods #Helldivers #Helldivers 2 #Helldivers II #Starship Troopers #Robert A Heinlein

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gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 3 months ago

Text

The Light of Truth

Author's note: More of the Primaris Boys in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallius, Cedric & Olivar. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Ghosk.

Warning: Character death. Characters fighting. Bloodshed. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Cedric gets a message. A brother is nearly rescued, another is nearly lost. Petras reveals his true colors to more than just Primaris Marines.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Cedric's wrist mounted vox gets a communication ping.

[I am uncertain how much time I have left before I return to the embrace of the Omnissiah.] Castiel sends in his message through agonizing, and coughs blood from his lungs raggedly. There are some spots of blood, mucus and the mechanical fluids used to keep him alive that spatter on his vox. Ugh, despite how much the Mechanicum has enhanced him, he’s still so wretchedly fleshed.

After a few wet ragged coughs Castiel painfully continues, his voice more staticy [but I don't want to die without letting someone know the truth. Embedded in this message is a holo recording of a meeting between Chaplain Mephestil Petras of the Black Templars and a Chaos Marine… as well as his reactions to my queries on the subject. He murdered me. I hope this gets to you. The God Emperor Protects and provides for us all.]

Castiel had also sent the holo recording of Petras going too far in his punishment. When Petras finds and attacks him on Ancient Terra he's able to record some of it, as well as his agonizing cries as he tries to escape, but dies to Petras again. Castiel had managed to have his eyes- which were cybernetic to record Petras’s words and actions- and the recording cuts off after he finishes dying.

He had the message on a delayed sending, hoping that Petras wouldn't notice the vox message. Tied to send when twelve minutes after he flatlined, and he sent coordinates of where he lay dead, or so he hoped. Castiel had wanted to send it to one of his fellow Black Templars primaris Marines.

His last thoughts are Prayers to the Omnissiah that his message will get through to one of them. That Castiel’s death won’t be a waste, that at least someone will have this proof.

Castiel knew in his hearts that it likely wouldn’t do anything much. Petras has killed Primaris Marines before with only a slap on the wrist. But at least it is something and the First borns will be interested in consorting with Chaos. Even though his life is worthless to them.

Cedric reads the written message, his mouth going dry, as a slow-burning fury ignites his hearts once again. He mutes the video, before playing it, as he is currently sitting down in the clinic’s staff cafeteria, and he has little doubt that the sounds of pain and misery will immediately attract the attention of everyone who could hear it.

Two. That’s two, in less than twenty-four hours. While Mattias wasn’t dead, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, to reduce the amount of movement that the young Astartes was capable of doing, as the injury to his spinal column could be operated on and treated, but was very delicate and any movements could potentially permanently render his legs unusable without spinal prosthetics or other augments that would be incredibly difficult to acquire on Ancient and Holy Terra.

He knows that Anrir and the other Night Lords are incredibly dangerous. Its just for some reason they have decided to drag him protectively under their bat wings, rather than tear him to shreds with their talons. For now at least.

Claude and Khopesh are away from where Ghosk and the others are setting the stage for the ‘fight’ between ‘raven guard’ Anrir (or whatever name he’ll be using) and the Claw will ‘attack’ him.

Claude and Khopesh watch through binoculars as the staged fight happens- and Captain Kasz Kalleran takes the bait and falls for the trap, hook, line and sinker. His Captain did enjoy it when he could be painted as the hero of the stories he tells, regardless of the truth of the matter.

The Claw gets ‘chased off’ by the flock of Ravens who surround the wounded ‘bird’ and help patch him up. Claude closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Anrir is far older than he is, and knows what he’s doing. Had chosen to do this- had planned for contingencies and decided on this course of action.

Claude is distracted by a vox text message he gets from Cedric and reads it with a concerned frown on his face. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

He sent a message to Claude via vox. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

[On my way.] Claude responds. [Where do you want to meet?]

Claude frowns, concern churning in his gut as he sends a message to Ramiel about Cedric’s request. Ramiel responds immediately to his message and sends one to Cedric as well.

“I have to go- Cedric needs my help with something,” Claude informs Khopesh.

“Have fun with that,” Khopesh says, “I’ll check on the others, see how they are doing after the ‘fight’ with the Raven Guards.”

Claude nods, “sounds good.”

[The park nearest to The Clinic. We should be able to talk freely there.] Cedric texted both Ramiel and Claude.

While he waited for them to respond, he walked over to where Olivar was currently sitting, scowling into the bowl of food in front of him. “You know it’s not going to leap out at you and try to murder you. What’s on your mind?”

“You told me that He is on Ancient Terra, too, right? Why the fuck were we sent here, back into his reach? Unless He is from before He started…” Olivar swallowed hard, a low, wordless growl leaving him. “Should we be keeping what The Bastard has done to us a secret? Your mentor did not tolerate his grox-shite, at least when it came to you, no matter what The Shithead said you did, or didn’t do. Surely there’s got to be at least one Firstborn marine you can talk to about all of this shit.”

“... There are a couple I’ve told some of what’s happened to. In M42. They kind of bullied me into telling them, but given what they’re like, I really should have realized that they were going to do so, sooner or later. Do you remember what I told you about Bruders Roland and Arnault?” Cedric asked, rocking back on his heels a little.

“... Yeah… One’s a battle brother,” Olivar says, “The other’s an Emperor’s Champion… something about Bonding? Bonded?”

“... Trust me, the Bonding and Bonded conversation is for when you are better healed and we aren’t doing emergency scrambling. But I think… If you, Ramiel and Pallius agree… I think I might ask both of them to help me lodge a formal complaint against Petras, to get some kind of official record as to the grox-shite and cruelty he is capable of being known publicly.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous Ced,” Olivar says, his scowl shifting a little. He scoffs a little, “didn’t we try that before and were told ‘stop being whiny little bitch and take the ‘character building’ lumps and suck it up?’ Why would that change since we’re here?”

“Bonds are wonderful things, I promise! From what I’ve seen, they are good. Also, that was by other firstborn brothers in M42. I told them that Petras killed a dozen primaris marines in M42 and that both of them immediately swore to kill him. I entirely believe that they meant that, too.”

“I mean… you are lovable Ced,” Olivar says slightly teasingly, “And Apothecaries are hard to come by. Of course they want to protect you.”

Cedric huffed a little and shook his head “I don’t think it’s just because I’m an Apothecary. They were furious at the thought of younger brothers being killed for existing. Not that I’m advocating for Chaplain Petras to die, just to… To be brought before a tribunal and made to answer for his crimes.”

By the god-emperor, does the wounded fury and sorrow howling in his hearts want Petras dead. Not just dead, but killed slowly, painfully. To have the fucker be made to beg and plead for mercy, for an ounce of compassion and be shown exactly as much as he gave Cedric’s Brothers.

None.

But that path led towards falling to Khorne, or perhaps Slaanesh, depending on the way he went about it. So formal sanctioning it was. For his own safety, and the safety of others.

“I wonder how Justice and punishment are delivered on Ancient Terra? I think that’s something we should find out, before we do anything or say anything.” Olivar scratches his cheek, “hm… let me think on it. Unless the Bastard does something… Bad here.”

“He’s killed a Primaris Tech marine. I just received Castiel’s dying vox-messages and video-footage of his murder.” Cedric answered, shaking his head a little. “Mattias - another Primaris Marine, is currently under anesthesia and in surgery because of the complications from Petras beating the fuck out of him yesterday.”

“Fucking bastard, you have convinced me, I’ll talk to who ever it is about his discipline and punishment methods.” Olivar hisses, “I remember Cassie- quiet, dutiful and always helped with weapons and armor maintenance. He was so happy to be chosen as a Tech Marine. He loved to talk about a certain kind of cog wheel.”

Cedric nodded, saying “I’m going to check in with Pallius first, then Ramiel. To see how they both feel about going forwards with what we know of petras’ crimes. I will be taking point on this. As the Apothecary of the group… And the one who survived longest in M42 before being sent to Ancient Terra, this is my duty and my burden.” With that he nodded, standing up and heading over to where Pallius was sitting and eating lunch.

“Pallius, I’ve run this by Olivar, and I have his vote. I won’t reveal it to you as I don’t want to influence your decision either way. But I… I am asking if you want me to come forward to certain firstborn marines - Brothers Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars, and Captain Ash’val for certain about what Chaplain Petras has done to us. He’s killed at least one Primaris Marine on Ancient Terra. He’s badly wounded Mattias, who is currently in surgery.” Cedric explained, his voice low and quick he gave the other a brief summary of what Castiel had sent to him.

“... If our words and scars can help keep others safe,” Pallius says quietly, “then… then I shall speak of the shameful things.”

“It’s not your shame, what he had done to you, Pallius. It is his. Please, you must remember this.” Cedric urged his brother, his hearts caught in the back of his throat.

Pallius ducks his head a little at the others words as his eyes become wet and he rubs the grit from his eyes. “I… I’ll try to.”

“Thank you, Pallius. You have Dorn’s own courage.” Cedric murmured, gently pressing his forehead to Pallius’, as an affectionate gesture.

“Keep safe Ced,” Pallius says, closing his eyes and leaning into Cedric a little, returning the gesture as much as he can. “... You have Dorn’s own courage as well Brother.”

Cedric nodded, walking out of the cafeteria as he read up on what had been sent to his wrist-mounted vox, mind whirling.

[I got the message from Claude. I’ll be at the park in seven minutes. Do I need to get Catius or Oleandros? Or have them run a Distraction?] Ramiel sends Cedric a text vox message, adding another statement. [Eta five minutes, told Chaplain Bo’shan I was taking my lunch break. He seemed happy about that.]

[I will be there in five minutes.] Claude says a thought occurs to him and he asks [Do you want me to get Jophi?]

[... I don’t want to involve all of the others just as of yet. Any more of this, and I request that we please speak in person. Neither of you are in trouble.] Cedric vox-texted back, making sure to send the last sentence, so as to not worry them too much. He hoped.

[Wilco.] Ramiel replies. He is worried- just what is going on? He wonders what Cedric has found out or wants to discuss.

He had to go by Reclusiarch Feldarim’s office to get to where he was going- the other watched him go with a casual glance. But as he didn’t seem too upset, the other let him pass without harassing him. Which gives him a sense of relief, as Chaplain Bo’shan had lightly pressed him for details, and he’d said that he was meeting up with Cedric and Claude for lunch.

He’s able to excuse himself and grabs something to eat. And then ensures to grab enough for Claude and Cedric. Both of them are terrible at remembering to eat. He also grabs some of the homemade ice cream as a sweet treat, just in case the conversation needs such a thing.

Claude replies [Understood- I also have some… interesting information on Justice and Punishment that The Night Lords talked about for Ancient Terra and the Alliance.]

[Good, I have questions about that, which will help in deciding in which way things will go. Whether we go the official route, or take care of trash on our own.] Cedric texted back.

He must have one hell of a scowl on his face, because the baseline humans who he passes by all scramble to get the hell out of his way. While normally this would make him feel guilty, especially as the baselines who live on the base are either bonded to one of the marines who lives on base… Or they have nowhere else to live and they work jobs on base in order to pay in kind for housing and food.

Zariel had heard the whispers and more loud complaints and worried about Fierce Angry Scowling Astarte in black and white scrubs. So he had sent a message to Ash’val, Feldarim, and after a moment’s hesitation, to Hura. Just in case.

“Cedric,” Zariel calls out carefully, “... You know I am here for you, if you need or want to talk about something that’s bothering you. If you want to talk.”

“... I acknowledge this. However, I need to speak with a couple of others. We will decide a few things and then figure out who to reach out to. You are, I will say, on the short list for the… Issue that needs handling.” Cedric responded, falling back on formal wording in order to hopefully get the teal Ultramarine to back off a little. He didn’t have the time to try and shake off a Teal tail.

“Very well,” Zariel says with a nod, watching the younger Astarte move. “I am honored to have such trust.”

He decides that it would be best not to press him too much. After all- he didn’t want to rile the other and send him into hiding again. The fact that young Claude had managed to teach a Black Templar how to be stealthy and good at it had been… more than a little distressing… As impressed as he’d been after his hearts had stopped feeling like they were going to burst from stress.

Cedric nods brusquely before marching the rest of the way out of the base, still scowling and not in the least bit attempting to hide his expression in the least.

Zariel also rolls a thought or two in his head. Whatever it was that Cedric had told Roland and Arnault had made the two older Black Templars exceedingly angry. So he was going to wait before sending a message to the older ones about this… Newest thing.

Cedric spotted Ramiel and Claude in one of their favorite spots in the nearby park. The brief stretch of his legs, and outside did help him calm down slightly, though his nerves - and his fury - were still jangling just beneath the surface of his skin. He waved over at the two of them, attempting to smile “Hey… Claude, Ramiel.”

Claude had helped Ramiel set up the basket of food, a blend of baseline human and Astarte food and drinks. They had set it up on one of the wooden benches that was rated for Astartes to sit on safely with the table neatly set out, with a picnic cover neatly tucked around to keep things a bit cleaner.

“Hey Cedric,” Ramiel says, “I thought since it was about lunch time, and you had a Conversation to speak with us, a picnic would help the Look of things. Regardless of what is spoken about.”

“Nice to see you Ced,” Claude says with a grin.

Claude heads to the area specified by Cedric and helps Ramiel set up the picnic that the other had decided to grab. It was a good cover- and they’d get to eat something while they talk about the Urgent matter.

At least on the outset it would look like the three of them were enjoying lunch and a picnic, which would have curious eyes not think anything Suspicious is going on. Not that he thinks that Cedric is doing anything particularly troubling. But it helps throw off any potential watchers, just in case.

Claude wonders if the Claw is encouraging his paranoia and suspicious tendencies before shaking his head a little and greeting Cedric. He sees the thunderous scowl on the other’s face and suspects that whatever he’s going to say is not going to be great.

He’s proven right as he listens, upset at what Cedric has learned. He goes over the details of what he remembers of the conversation with Khopesh about Justice and Punishments. Ramiel and Cedric agree to speak with Khopesh in public and he sends another message and Khopesh arrives swiftly.

“... A picnic does sound good.” Cedric relented, plopping down next to his Brother, leaning into his familiar warmth. He looked at the spread of food and drinks, deliberately focusing on what he could smell and see before him, in a desperate attempt to calm down, at least a little.

Ramiel hums one of the prayer hymns that he knows helps Cedric calm down, Claude slowly reaching out and holding one of the Apothecary Apprentic’s hands and lightly squeezing it. Claude joins in on the song, humming the chorus and harmonizing with them, the words whispered in High Gothic.

He hummed along to the hymn, allowing the calming focus to come over him. Anger had it’s place on the battlefield, but too much of it was dangerous. Not only to oneself, but to everyone around the one lost to fury. He squeezed Claude’s hand back gently, managing a rueful smile “I have bad news, worse news, questions, and a proposal, contingent upon the answer to those questions. What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the worst news?” Claude and Ramiel ask at the same time, bracing themselves.

Claude looks around them glancing at his brothers as he takes some of the bread and spreads jame and nut butter on bread- as well as sprinkling some Astarte nutri-paste and cutting it into thirds for the three of them to eat.

Claude cast his senses, Warp-related and not to ensure that they weren’t being listened to. Glad that no one was, either through technology or warpy senses he lets go of his crackling humming power and focuses on Cedric’s words. He takes a bite of food to keep the spots of darkness out of his vision.

“Tech-Marine Castiel of the Black Templars was killed earlier today, at the hands of Chaplain Captain Petras. When Tech Marine Castiel became aware that he was going to die, as there was no one to intercede on his behalf, he sent me all of the information he had on the chaplain in question, sending it on a delay to hopefully not arouse suspicion from his murderer.” Cedric revealed, doing his best to keep his voice a low, emotionless monotone. He failed spectacularly, as his voice cracked. He paused, taking a sip from one of the glasses of lemonade before continuing “Brother Mattias of the Black Templars is currently in surgery due to the complications from the beating he received, allegedly from Chaplain Petras, according to the Hydra who brought him into the clinic late last night.”

“God Emperor curse him,” Ramiel swears softly, before flinching as he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth. “He’s… Perhaps not escalating, but he’s continuing to do what he did back in M42.”

“... He knows he died for Challenging the High Marshal,” Claude says with a frown, his eyes flashing teal as he thinks “... For killing and purging Primaris… and he’s…doing it here when Astartes number far fewer. He’s … not likely to change his ways.”

“Ramiel, I have asked Pallius and Olivar, but I will with-hold their votes until you tell me what you want to do. Should we come forward to certain firstborn marines, and tell them about what Petras has done, both in M42, and on Ancient Terra, or would you rather we handle this ourselves?” Cedric asked, his voice shaking a little, but stubborn ferocity beat in his chest. He would deal with this fucker, one way or the other.

Ramiel reaches over- carefully telegraphing his movements as he gives his brother a side hug. Claude is on Cedric’s other side and does the same thing. The three of them gently hugged each other for a moment. Ramiel gathers his thoughts, which is hard because they keep scattering in a thousand-thousand different directions as he thinks over the other’s words.

“I think,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little, he coughs and then takes a sip of the lemonade laced with hydration rations, “I think, we should go to the First borns, see what they do… if it’s … unsatisfactory …. We can… handle him after the fact.”

Cedric side-hugs Ramiel back, trembling a little with the force of the emotions running rampant within him. He focuses on Claude “You mentioned that the Night Lords spoke of how Astartes dealt Justice in this time period? Please explain to the best of your abilities. Your answers will help me decide whether or not I will come forward with the information to whoever I’m supposed to in an official capacity… Or if I just ask Arnault and Roland if he would please help me murder a bastard. They are both already aware of Petras’ crimes in M42 and swore to kill him.” Their vehement and immediate declarations of Murder had been… Cedric swallowed a little. They had been more gratifying than the young Apothecary had wanted to admit.

“So Khopesh and the Claw of Night Lords knows about why certain… First Born Brothers in M42 don’t like us… And they find that reasoning stupid, foolish and wasteful. Claude nods, “That- actually is one method of Justice that the rest of the chapter’s can’t mess with. Justice for crimes done, unless it’s inter-chapter stuff, or there is a request to intercede on the behalf of the victims, is done in-chapter. Unless their crimes are bad enough that an Example needs to be made.”

Claude gathers his thoughts and pulls out the data slate and reads the notes he’d taken, the conversation that he had with Khopesh. He hands the data slate over so they can read about Hunting- and how the worst of the Astarte criminals, like serial killers, are handed over to the Night Lords, which is one of the worst punishments that can happen to a person. How the Hunt is declared- what happens during it, and after.

“There is a precedent,” Claude says, licking his lips a little, “where if an Astarte is killing other Astarte- that their Chapter, at first are the ones to handle them, but if for whatever reason they can’t or won’t… They tend to be handed over to the Night Lords. I… uh… asked some Questions- and Khopesh seemed… excited about the idea of a Hunt. I think… no, I know he reported the conversation we had about Justice and Punishment to the Claw Leader- Anrir, who’s an Apothecary- who’s older than Hura.”

“... Petras wasn’t the only one killing Primaris Marines in M42. Nor was he the only Firstborn Black Templar to be doing so.” Cedric murmured, his voice low and quiet. “As much as I want… As much as I want to raise bolter and blade against the fucker myself, alongside whoever else wants to kill him. I don’t… I don’t think that simply killing Petras will ensure long-term protection of our fellow Primaris Marines. I will ask Arnault and Roland their opinions on this… But…”

“There are other punishments,” Claude says, “They talked about.. Flaying… among other things. Some. Very graphic descriptions that I won’t go into detail about right now, as well as having the people who were hurt by the person, to either participate in the person’s punishment actively, or have a hand in deciding how they are punished. There is, unfortunately, a need to gather evidence and proof of crimes more than verbal witness evidence.”

“Would the recorded audio-visual recordings of a now-murdered marine be enough evidence?” Cedric asked bluntly.

“... Will you allow me to ask Khopesh that?” Claude says, “I think so- but I’d need his opinion, he’s been here longer, and knows more about Justice and the legal framework that the Astartes have developed here.”

Cedric nodded “Go for it. You’re the one with contact with him.”

Claude sends Khopesh a vox text [Please don't run to Anrir or the others about this quite yet. But hypothetically, if Ced- er someone had Audio/visual proof about Cas- er I mean, someone else, HYPOTHETICALLY being murdered by Pet- er a third someone else, that is currently, hypothetically on Ancient Terra right now, and has a history of murdering primaris marines, what would happen? And this person that hypothetically nearly murdered Mat- I mean someone else as well.]

Khopesh hears a pinging noise and looks down at his vox, he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and thinks to himself, ‘Bingo!’

“You seem pleased, something good?” Ghosk notes, lightly pressing the younger member of the Claw for more information if the other wanted to share.

“... Not yet- but soon. Hopefully.” Khopesh says. He’s not going to tell Anrir or the other members of the Claw yet. Per Claude’s request, for now. But finally. He’s glad that Claude is finally trusting them, or at least him more.

“Alright,” Ghosk replies with a nod. “Keep in mind we can only back you up if we know what’s going on.”

“Yes Ghosk,” Khopesh says with a nod. He does send a message back to Claude. [A Primaris Killer- or an Astarte killer, like the one you texted me about would be setting himself up for execution. Especially if he has a heinous list of crimes and it’s clear that he’s not stopping.]

Claude responds swiftly to the message [Thank you for the information.]

Khopesh sends another message to Claude that [you all can argue for the Primaris killer being an ongoing and unremorseful threat. So they can Hopefully get the maximum punishment of execution by Night Lords. Or depending on the Chapter preferred executioners.]

[Thank you for that- so far as we know, he’s only gone after Black Templars.] Claude responds. [Knowing him… he might escalate to other Primaris if he comes across them. He’s got a nasty temper.]

[But even without that. The chapter the murderer is a part of would be Heavily pressured to either remove their own bad actor, or turn him over so he can be removed.] Khopesh sends the message to Claude, and he is getting excited.

Khopesh is excited that Claude trusts them more, And that he'll soon be able to talk to Anrir and the others about getting a proper Hunt going. Ghosk waved at the younger Night Lord as he watched the younger one leave, wondering what was going on.

But patience...Patience! Like Anrir always says. He feels like he's vibrating- and is glad that he moved out of where the rest of the Claw are- because they would see the expression on his face and demand to see his communicator to know what’s going on.

A thought suddenly strikes Khopesh and the excitement dims a little and he sends another message- a very Anrir thought as he remembers watching the older Night Lord work and talk to others and sends another message, [I won't tell Anrir without your permission....But I also don't want you and your brothers to be in active danger. I have enough on my rotted conscience, so if things get bad. Please don't make me live with staying quiet. For however terrifying he might be. Anrir wants to help you, Claude. We all do. But we can't Do that unless you Tell us what we need to know. Information Is Warfare isn't it?]

Khopesh hopes he isn’t pushing Claude too much, but this is need to know information, and the fact that the youngest member of his Claw was talking about things in more specific detail was Important. Especially with that fucking bastard of a Raven Captain- that they are helping him handle as well.

[Could you send me a copy of the evidence that you and your brother-cousins have?] Khopesh sends, [The evidence that can be submitted to the Alliance, it will help clinch the Hunt to being declared.]

Khopesh has an excited blood thirsty expression on his face- and he is moving around pacing back and forth. He’s so tempted to try and find out where Claude is to rush over and talk, and see if he can get more answers out of him and the other Primaris Marines.

His excitement cools down and he shakes his head as he rereads one of the messages, [wait- no, if the message gets intercepted, they’d need a backup of it to show the Alliance.]

[Cedric and Ramiel say they want to talk with you in person.] Claude sends, [we are at the park nearby the Loyalist base on Cherry lane and main street. Could you come by and speak with us? Things… might be escalating.]

[I’ll be there as soon as I can] Khopesh responds and tries not to run to where Claude and the others are. He’s. really excited. The Primaris Marines are trusting them with this! And they- hopefully will help get the Primaris Marines to have Justice prevail and have a Hunt. It has been so long since they have been able to Hunt.

Khopesh tries to calm down and sees the way that Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel are sitting around a table, there is a quaint looking picnic- clever, make a serious meeting look like something more innocent, clever, clever boys. After the explanation they give, the video is shown and he watches it in full.

"You have footage of one of your battle brothers murders? Fantastic!” Khopesh says.

Cedric stills for a moment. The sheer visceral excitement radiating off of the Night Lord is off-putting to say the least. He briefly glances at Claude. What the fuck? He thinks particularly loudly at his witch-adjacent Brother-cousin. “... I find the joy you show in the death of another marine to be… Unsettling.”

Ramiel’s jaw clenches and blue eyes spark with rage and his hands clenched into fists and Claude jumps in before either of his cousins could smack the crap out of Khopesh, “ the translation "I'm excited we'll soon get to avenge your fallen and deliver Justice!" Not I’m happy your brother is dead.”

Claude very much understands what the former sounds like, and it had been shocking to hear such things, but he had learned how to understand Night Lords and the way they speak. He especially knows Khopesh better, having interacted with him a lot more than his brother-cousins, to keep them from getting too mad at the First Born Night Lord.

Khopesh calms down a little, realizing how callous that sounded, especially since this person is a threat- likely to them personally, as well as to others and apologies, “Sorry- that came out wrong. It really sucks that your brother is dead. I’m excited to be able to help you with this mess. That video- it’s Key Evidence in getting your tormentor put down, or whatever punishment you think is best.”

Cedric pauses for a moment before sending a copy of Castiel's dying video to the Night Lord. “Here is what he sent me. He timed it so hopefully his murderer wouldn't realize he was being recorded. Given the fact that Petras beat another Primaris marine to the point Mattias is currently in surgery now… The Chaplain must be nearby.”

Khopesh is a mixture of emotions, and his trembling a little as he tucks his hands behind his back as his hands clenched into fists. He’s a mixture of Excitement and Rage. How dare that bastard, Petras, go after the Primaris.

Claude asks him, “What do you think of it?”

"I'm thinking I'd start with flaying Just the fingers! Then I'd yank the phalanges out one by one, on the right hand.” Khopesh starts, “For the left I'd Act like I was going to do the same, then snap the arm and force him to Bite Off his own fingers so the hands would Match-"

Part of Cedric was mildly Disgusted by Khopesh starting to explain what he would do to The bastard. The rest of him wanted to let the deranged Night Lord continue.

"About this Video as Evidence! Khopesh! How is the quality of the evidence!?" Ramiel interrupts.

"Oh right! Sorry...like I said it's fantastic as evidence. It clearly shows the perpetrator, goes decently in depth about his crimes, includes the bastards own fucking vileness on display and though it may sound tactless. Your deceased brother's testimony is something the Alliance will not be able to ignore. It may seem... disingenuous, but the pain and outrage you feel should be Used. It will show the tribunal that these crimes Must be Answered for, Your brother's lives not spent in Vain!" Khopesh says his eyes blazing with emotion and passion. "You never should have had to seek out this justice. Your elder brothers should have taken you beneath their wings, Like Anrir did for us!"

Cedric shifted a little, feeling the need to defend the firstborn Templar brothers who actually gave a damn about him and his Brothers. “A couple of our older Brothers have taken us in. Arnault and Roland have done their best to care for and protect us. As soon as they became peripherally aware of a threat to us that we hadn't told them about they would try and press for explanations. When… I told them earlier this week about Petras when Mattias was first brought in for treatment. They intended to kill the Chaplain, and said as much.”

Khopesh paces around the table, prowling as he continues his rant, this explains why Claude and the others could be so stars- damned jumpy. Why Claude was so slow to trust- slow to allow himself Anrir and the other’s protections.

Afraid of what being put under the protection of an older brother means accepting they have some power over you- and seeing and hearing that his cousins were murdered by shit head- and Claude and others getting beaten… yeah no. He’d be reluctant to give up any freedoms, even if it would help in some ways.

"But that's not the path this...Petras bastard chose. He Chose and by the looks of it continues to Choose to harm his own Battle Brothers, and worst! Those He should be responsible for." Khopesh says. "He is the worst type of Predatory, Vile, Rotten Bastard! And he Deserves to answer for his crimes. Your brothers, your fallen, deserve to have him Answer for his crimes."

"Let Us help you present this evidence Claude. Let the Claw help you and your brothers..." Khopesh doesn't use Your Claw as he feels it might push too hard and cause Claude to retreat.

Instead Khopesh uses The Claw, still implying that Claude is a part of it, but leaving it up to interpretation. Avoiding Our Claw or My Claw as those could distinctly put Claude outside it, which is not true, and he doesn’t want to have Claude feel alienated, fuck the poor kid has had that done to him back in M42, him and his brothers.

Cedric, Ramiel, and Claude get an urgent text vox message from Jophiel it reads [I’ve got a wounded Black Templar Primaris Marine. Near the stone outcropping two hours in the forest west of Gannet point. I’m stalling Petras- the fucker is Insane. Please help. Or send help. He’s threatening to kill me and Sariel. He knows about the Alliance rules, he just doesn’t fucking care.]

Cedric stood up, and swore under his breath, looking at Khopesh. “While you’re not the firstborn Brother who I’d choose to ask for help, you’re already here and I don’t know how long we have before the situation gets worse. We just received a call for help from Jophiel, a Primaris marine. He’s trying to keep another Primaris Marine alive and is facing Petras without help. We need Petras restrained now. If you mean your words, come and help us.” With that, Cedric took off at his top speed towards where Jophiel had pinged his location, texting back [I am coming! Delay him as long as you can!]

[I will do my best.] Jophiel responds.

He then messaged Arnault and Roland at the same time [Petras is attacking someone at this location. If you are able and willing, please help me keep him from murdering more Primaris marines.]

He gets an immediate response from both Arnault and Roland. Roland answered first. [On my way.]

Arnault answered [Will be there soon. Stay safe and be smart.]

His hearts drop to his stomach when he sees Jophiel on the ground, wings broken, and Petras standing over him. A Crusade of Black Templars and a dead Primaris Black Templar.

"You bastard!" Claude hears Cedric hiss as he chases after his charging Black Templar Brother cousins.

The closer they get to Petras and his Crusade, Cedric suddenly drops to Jophie's side- realizing the other is alive. "Why did you drug him? Break his wings?"

"He went mad," Petras says, "And he killed the Primaris Black Templar."

"LIAR!" Claude hears Cedric bellow. "Jophie is many things a brother killer, he is not."

"His blade is bloodied, and killed the Black Templar," Petras counteracts, telling the truth.

Khopesh has approached Jophiel and is messing with the younger Space Marine's helmet and lets out a dark chuckle and says, "You fool- Jophiel was recording the conversation he had with you."

"... what?" Petras says, sounding caught off guard.

Khopesh gives him a cruel smile and flips the helmet and projects the truth of the matter- Jophiel confronting Petras- who reveals his true cruelty.

How Jophiel tried to escape Petras at first- and only fought him after he'd broken his wings and made it so that escape wasn't likely. How Petras was the one to kill the Primaris Marine- using Jophiel's own weapon.

The looks of shock and horror and disappointment and disgust on the faces of Petras's Crusade have them circling around Petras- rather than trying to defend him.

Petras scowls, realizing that the jig is up and he taunts, "So- you know I have killed two of your disgusting Abominations."

"We are not abominations," Ramiel says tremulously, shaking, terrified, but wanting to stand against the bastard that murdered him in M42. "You are- you m-murdered me and a dozen of our brothers in M42- and have killed at least two of us here!"

Cedric moves closer to Ramiel, standing so that he is half in front of his terrified Brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glowers at Petras.

"Ah, so you have only found two of my victims," Petras taunts. "The souls of my other victims will never know peace because the location of their bodies will die with me."

"Who says that we will kill you here and now?" Khopesh says slyly, "After all- death is what you will get, but oh- how you should suffer before you die!"

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #adeptus astartes #oc: Cedric #oc: Khopesh #oc: Claude #oc: Jophiel #oc: Castiel #oc: Olivar #oc: Pallius #oc: Ramiel #oc: Zariel

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allwaswell16 · 7 months ago

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A fic rec of One Direction fics based on Taylor Swift songs as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

🎶 would it be enough if i could never give you peace? by hemakeshimstrongx

(M, 129k, Taylor & Travis au) Harry's fresh off a break up when the media starts shoving a romance that does not exist down his throat, and the throats of everyone in the entire world. When he starts chatting with the footballer stuck in the middle of all this with him, Harry ends up experiencing something he'd never anticipated, and certainly had never felt before

🎶 The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @kingsofeverything

(E, 109k, cheating) Louis’ life is steady and calm, moored by his marriage, and tied to his hometown, but after a chance encounter with another man, it’ll never be the same.

🎶 even if it’s just pretend (say you'll remember me) by sideofzemblanity

(E, 45k, hate to love) an enemies to lovers au based on taylor swift's wildest dreams

🎶 it always leads to you (in my hometown) by InsightfulInsomniac / @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 40k, Christmas) A holiday story of returning home — not just to a place, but also to a person. ‘tis the damn season and This Love inspired AU.

🎶 the road not taken by teenytinytomlinson / @hs3lt2

(E, 35k, Christmas) the one where Harry returns back home for the holidays after a successful debut album, leaving Louis to unwrap gifts as well as old complicated feelings. Cue: hometown holiday hookups, overbearing siblings, and a disastrous New Year’s Eve party. A 'Tis’ the Damn Season' inspired au.

🎶 it was all by design ('cause i'm a mastermind) by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix

(E, 21k, coworkers) the childhood friends to strangers to coworkers to enemies to lovers fic that you never knew you needed

🎶 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 17k, girl direction) Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

🎶 i just wanted you to know (this is me trying) by harrysboy / @calumsboy

(M, 7k, baking) the one where louis bakes to express his love, and harry can't bake for shit, but he still tries.

🎶 Castles Crumbling by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 6k, omegaverse) Being an unmated Omega and a king, Harry came under a lot of scrutiny. But when he makes a deal with Scotland, his world comes crashing down.

🎶 in a different life (we would've been timeless) by liberty_barnes / @liberty-barnes

(T, 6k, historical) Five lives in which Harry and Louis met and the one where they got their happy ending.

🎶 So It Goes... by ThoseFookin_Avacados / @harrystomlinson

(T, 5k, spy au) “I’m going to kill you.” “Go right ahead, love.”

🎶 Red by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 4k, exes) All he wants to do is lie on his couch and listen to Taylor Swift alone. But when the pain is too much to handle on his own, he calls the one person who understands how this feels.

🎶 Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room by betty_and_i

(NR, 3k, paramedic Harry) H is a paramedic and him and L broke up a few months ago over something stupid which caused them to not talk again. Fastforward L is in a situation that causes someone needing to call the paramedics for him and H is the one to be there at the scene

🎶 Electric Touch by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 3k, omegaverse) Harry had given up on love, until his friend Zayn sets him up on a blind date with Louis.

🎶 Timeless by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 3k, omegaverse) After visiting an antiques shop, Harry gets transported through time, and discovers that he and Louis are Timeless.

🎶 Lights Are So Bright by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(G, 2k, famous/famous) Newly first-string quarterback Louis Tomlinson mentions enough times in interviews that he's a fan of mega-famous popstar Harry Styles that people start to notice. At least one person does...

🎶 'Tis the Damn Season by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(M, 2k, exes) The door will open and he’ll smile wide and genuine at the people who raised him, his teary-eyed mother and rosey-face step-father. He won’t think about the cabin in the woods again until next December.

🎶 You are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad) by @dreaminrainbows

(M, 2k, pining) Louis is a hot bartender and Harry is pathetically in love with him

🎶 I Don’t Want You Like A Best Friend by temptationaccomplished

(M, 2k, established relationship) “I only bought those shorts so you could take them off.” He whispers.

🎶 Are We In the Clear by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox

(M, 1k, historical) Louis and Harry meet across a crowded court at a time when falling in love would mean their destruction. With help from a friend, they run for their freedom.

🎶 i see sparks fly whenever you smile by sbreadyn

(T, 1k, New Year's Eve) It's New Year's Eve. Louis's running late because Niall took his car. Harry only agrees to go out because of Zayn and Liam.

- Rare Pairs -

🎶 Taylor Swift Has Probably Written A Song About This Feeling by neerdowellwolf

(E, 20k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Nick isn't sure how he ended up fooling around with Louis Tomlinson and he's definitely not sure when he fell in love.

#weeklyficrec #ficrec #1dficvillage #hlcreators #hljournal #1dsquad #trackinghome #trackinghappily #hltracks #1dsource #ficsfor4am

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jnnul · 7 months ago

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the right side of wrong. (part two)

TAGS ▸ uh like mentions of glass breaking, and food eating??, this chapter is pretty tame lol

PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear

WORD COUNT ▸ 6.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ didn't want this part to be too long since i'm trying to stick to my end word count of 40k lol. next chapter is gonna move things along for sure though! this one is just plot + world building. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“you’ve never watched television before?” soojin asks incredulously, staring at y/n. she shrugs, looking at the remote in her hand with a curious look.

“i mean, television is harder to warp since it could be live broadcasted. magic takes a lot of energy, and i don’t think anyone cared about me enough to warp television day in and day out. i mostly just read books. fiction.” jay lets out a low whistle as he puts the baking tray into the oven.

soojin and jay had taken it upon themselves to be ‘den mothers’ for y/n since she didn’t really have anyone else to connect with, and since they were the only ones who lived at mount justice.

“really? well, at least now you’ll never be bored. when i was on mars, watching television from earth is practically the only thing i ever did,” soojin says and smiles when she sees jay make his way to the television set in the other room, picking out dvd’s of old movies to start y/n with.

“yeah. i mean, it was pretty boring since i could only do things that were already vetted by my dad. i could only read the books he wanted me to. i could only eat the foods that he brought me. i could only learn the things in textbooks that he conjured. it was a life that felt like prison,” she explained, her voice trailing off as she reminisced not-so-fondly about her life in the other dimension.

“you know, i hate to say it, but usually people come out of solitary confinement totally mistrustful and don’t reveal anything to the people around them because of their time. i know that your case was a little different but i just - ” soojin is cut off by y/n, who’s eyes have grown hard and full of fire.

“but i don’t seem depressed or psychotic. in fact, i look and speak like a pretty normal girl, don’t i?” y/n says, her voice cold and emotionless. a shiver runs down soojin’s spine. this is what she had expected from someone who had no one but the light to grow up with. someone who was ready to fight at any given moment; a cold and ruthless killer.

“i’m sorry,” soojin says and just as quickly as y/n had slipped into the persona, she slips out of it.

“no, don’t apologize. i understand the confusion. it’s a mix of two things: my father may have been controlling my environment but he never actually tried to control me. he said that my powers and my face was all his, but that my personality and my brain was all of my mother’s. my father loved me very much, and locking me up to ‘protect me’ was his insane way of showing it. so i know what it’s like to be warm, trusting, and affectionate. it’s not as though i never knew the emotion. and as easy as it would be to live my life without ever trusting you guys, i just don’t think i want to live like that again. that’s how i’ve been living ever since i found out the truth about this dimension.” y/n sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and hugging them close to her body, as if to trap the heat into the depths of her skin. “but also - even with all of that love - i’ve lived a better life in the past two days than i have in the past twenty years. people here tell me the difference between reality and fiction. everyone in that dimension just told me whatever i wanted to hear. or whatever i needed to hear to stay in their grasp. i wasn’t really a child to look after to anyone else in the light. i was more like a harmless puppy.”

“that’s why they didn’t train you in combat either?” soojin asks and y/n nods, shrugging.

“it’s hard to keep a puppy under control when she’s been taught to bite.”

jay, who’d come back to the kitchen with a myriad of genres to explore sighs. “you know, that kind of reminds me of my time at cadmus.”

“what’s a cadmus?” y/n asks, and jay is silent for a moment, picking and choosing his words wisely.

“it’s a prison of its own. i was made as superman’s clone and raised in a facility to have the powers of superman but no mind of my own. i was literally created to be a rabid dog just barely on a leash,” jay says, and when he looks up at y/n, he doesn’t see the pity that he usually gets (and hates). instead, he just sees solidarity and for some reason, it feels as though she truly understood what exactly he’d gone through.

“but enough of the sad past talk. we’ve got to get you caught up on cinema and there’s nothing but time, right now! so what do you say, y/n? are you feeling mystery? romance? comedy? romantic-comedy?” soojin says, clapping her hands. y/n peruses her options before picking a movie, unable to tear her eyes away from the cover.

“i don’t think i know what love is but whatever it is, it’s gotta be this right now. who is this fine man?” y/n asks, staring at the man on the cover of the dvd and soojin giggles.

“that’s henry cavill, and trust me, we all think that way,” she says, winking at jay, who just rolls his eyes with a grin.

“well then, the immortals, it is,” jay says, leading them all to the living area, where the television was.

“oh, i hate to bring up cadmus again but you said something that i thought i should clarify,” y/n says suddenly, her face serious and contemplative. jay and soojin exchange a look.

“what is it, y/n? do you remember something else about the light?” soojin asks worriedly.

“no. no - i just wanted to ask…what the hell is a superman?”

“oh boy.”

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[palo alto, california]

yujin checks her phone for the third time in the span of thirty seconds, her knee bouncing as she waited in the courtyard of stanford university for her boyfriend. she stares down at her phone impatiently, waiting for jake when she’s offered a short reprieve from the california sun beating down on her as a shadow casts across her face.

“you know, you really need to start caring more about your boyfriend and less about this new girl you have a crush on,” says the person who deprives yujin of her vitamin d.

“i don’t have a crush on her. but i do really need to check something out in gotham,” yujin says, looking up at jake. “and i need you to come with me.”

jake frowns, checking his watch. “is it serious? we have the pottery painting double date with the colemans at five.”

“no, it’s not serious. it’s just strange. and i don’t know, i just don’t want to investigate alone. figured i would put your forensics degree to use,” yujin replies.

“forensics? are we talking about a dead body here?” jake asks and yujin shakes her head, looking back down at her phone. she turns the phone screen so that jake could see what had her so on edge and gasps, taking the phone from her and examining carefully.

the image on yujin’s phone wasn’t gory or grotesque like jake had expected. instead, the image was (relatively) straightforward: someone had broken into ace chemical factory - literally. everything made of glass in the image was shattered to pieces, and the old stone building was suffering some serious cracks.

“this looks like some sort of sonic weaponry type damage. i see why this is sad and disturbing for gotham city history enthusiasts but i’m still not seeing why a forensics analysis is necessary. does sunghoon know about this?,” jake says, frowning as he examines the picture.

yujin swipes to the next picture, and jake’s frown grows even deeper as he looks at the picture.

“it looks like the same person who broke into ace chemicals also did some serious property damage to the yacht bridge. this has got to be at least twenty to forty million dollars in damage,” jake says, his eyebrows furrowed. “i still don’t see how this is an issue for forensics though.”

“check the timestamps. sunghoon wants us to do a little analysis for the team while he carries out the investigation on the legal side. you know, since superpowers are probably involved,” yujin says and jake swipes back and forth, checking the timestamps of the pictures.

“these pictures indicate that the damage was done at the same exact time. how the hell is that possible? i didn’t know that sonic weaponry was that easy to find,” jake says cynically, swiping back and forth once more.

“yeah. but check this: the damage looks the exact same. as if it were done by the same weapon,” yujin says, pointing out the shape of the glass shards that were scattered across the floors of each of the buildings. jake looks closer until he notices something that rubs him the wrong way, zooming in to show yujin too.

“look at this, though. in the picture of the yacht bridge, there’s clear indications that the weaponry used was barely functional; i mean the glass shattered but the shatter isn’t nearly as finely ground as the glass here, in the ace chemical factory picture. it’s not as identical as we think it is,” jake explains. “and this is just a hunch, but it seems like the motives are different too - i mean, i can’t think of a single reason why anyone would voluntarily go to ace chemical factory at eight in the evening. that place has been shut down for years, and it was never producing anything too valuable in the first place.”

“but the yacht bridge would mean that some rich people are moving some big amounts of money in the next couple of days,” yujin says slowly. “especially with the weather growing warmer, more and more people are getting their boats ready to take out onto the waters.”

“and when did you say icicle sr. was at the bank?” jake asks, mentally committing the picture to memory.

“not even fifteen minutes later. the bank is pretty close to ace chemicals but it’s on the other side of gotham. unless it was you or the flash, i’m not sure that anyone could make it from the yacht bridge to the bank in time. but from ace chemicals, there’s more than enough time to do so,” yujin says, swiping to the next picture, where she’d circled the three locations.

“well, i’m not sure how much help i’m gonna be but i’ll check out all three of the locations with you if that’s what you need me to do,” jake says, handing yujin back her phone and she pockets it quickly, checking her watch.

“well then, i’m gonna have to borrow the powers of kid flash to complete this recon mission,” she says, a teasing glint in her eyes and jake flashes her a megawatt smile.

“kid flash, at your service, ma’am. now, let’s not keep the colemans waiting for too long.”

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[gotham city, southern tip of new jersey]

“detective park? we have some people inquiring about the simultaneous break-ins at ace chemicals and the yacht bridge from yesterday. is the field team ready to go to the site?” byun euijoo, the station’s pretty boy and correspondent/representative asks, looking haggard from having to respond to entitled rich people all day.

“yeah. we’re ready,” sunghoon says, nodding at the team that he’d assembled to investigate the break-ins. he had a sneaking suspicion that yujin and jake would have better luck in finding the source of the issues but he had a job and appearances to keep up anyway.

“right. i’ll tell them that our team’s on site working on the case and that we’ll find the perpetrators as soon as possible,” euijoo says, typing away on his little ipad, murmuring something under his breath. “even though it’s most likely that the justice league’s gonna handle this anyway. or whoever the hell they send to take care of things secretly.”

“what’d you say?” sunghoon says, unbuttoning the buttons on the cuffs of his sleeves to roll them up, hanging the detective badge over his neck.

“nothing. it’s just - does our station ever really do anything? it feels like we just get anonymous intel that solves the entire case for us. not that you’re not a great detective and you’ve definitely been vital to solving cases and putting everything together. but, you know, it just feels pointless when the justice league or whatever team they’ve put together for undercover missions does everything for us anyway,” euijoo huffs, hugging his ipad to his chest.

sunghoon rests his hand on euijoo’s shoulder, slinging his jacket over his own shoulder. “this station is the face of every case that comes to this city. no matter what kind of anonymous tips we get - or however timely or true those tips might be - we deliberate the truth and we have to search and give the people an answer. our job is no less important because whoever is helping us has gotten involved.”

“but you don’t ever get curious about who exactly is helping us?” euijoo asks, somewhat shamefully.

“hm. maybe? but if they want to reveal themselves, they will. no point in looking a gift horse in the mouth, right?”

euijoo doesn’t have much to say to that and sunghoon just smiles, passing him to lead the team to first the yacht bridge, and then ace chemicals. yujin and jake would be checking ace chemicals first so it would be easier for them to examine things in peace if the detective team (and the horde of reporters that would be sure to follow) headed to the yacht bridge first.

plus, rich people were impatient. and pushy.

“alright,” sunghoon begins, clapping his hands. “let’s find these assholes.”

the motorcycle ride to the yacht bridge wasn’t that far. maybe twelve or thirteen minutes at maximum. but those thirteen minutes felt like absolute torture all the way through.

sunghoon preferred motorcycles because he liked feeling the wind whipping his jacket and at his hair when he wasn’t feeling like following rules. he loved the feeling of feeling superhuman in his speed and agility as he raced down the streets of gotham. it also could have been the time that sunghoon had spent with eunwoo rubbing off on him, now that he thought about it.

but now, with all of these reporters hot on his heels, hounding him with questions that they were screaming over the howling winds, it was absolute torture. sunghoon could barely concentrate on the road in front of him from the sheer multitude of questions that he was being barraged with.

sunghoon’s thoughts lead him to ardor, as a way to distract himself from the questions that he was pretending he couldn’t hear.

she was probably spending time with jay and soojin around this time, wasn’t she? maybe catching up on the current events that she’d missed out on in all of her time trapped in that dimension? or possibly eating foods that she didn’t even know existed? knowing soojin, she was definitely showing ardor some sort of show or movie. jay was probably just happy to be around soojin and soojin was always happy to welcome new people into the den, since the only two permanent residents of the den were jay and soojin.

his mind goes back to something that eunwoo had said as sunghoon was on his way out.

eunwoo was a relatively stoic person and wasn’t shaken or moved by much. he didn’t really have intense highs but he also didn’t have intense lows, and while that had annoyed sunghoon when he was looking for affection that eunwoo simply couldn’t provide, it proved to be helpful and necessary every time sunghoon found himself shaking with the intensity of his emotions when he was going through his teenage years.

so for eunwoo to grab sunghoon’s elbow as he’s on his way out of the cha manor, his eyes downcast and contemplative… it was definitely a cause for concern for sunghoon.

“i don’t want to reveal too much because i’m not sure that it’s my place to share anything with the team when it’s a justice league issue but if what y/n is saying is true, the possibility that the justice league has a mole is quite frankly, worryingly high. i can’t tell you how to run the team and i’ll carry out my investigation as discreetly as possible but as someone in this field for longer than you have, i have some requests and some advice. first, i suggest that you keep y/n as close to you as possible. if word of the investigation leaks, the light will not hesitate to hurt her or maybe even kill her, depending on how desperate faust is. i trust the team but i trust you the most, sunghoon. second, this is my request, but you might consider adding her to the team. pyrokinetics are not a joke - and her flame doesn’t kill, which is even better. not to mention that if you take her on missions - ”

“we might discover something that she’s been keeping from us, intentionally or not,” sunghoon finished with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face.

“you know?” eunwoo asked incredulously.

“not really, to be honest. but miss martian mentioned something about how she’s keeping something important from us. i’m pretty sure that not even she knows though. according to miss martian, it’s something that she knows is important but it’s behind a mental block - can’t tell if it’s a block from a magician or an emotional block. combat is pretty primal though; it unlocks parts of us that we don’t even know exist. so maybe after some training and survival techniques, ardor could be a good addition to the team. or maybe it’ll be a good way to release the stress or whatever mental blocks she has in her mind.”

eunwoo was quiet, watching sunghoon before shaking his head. “you really grew up too fast.”

“you’re still only a couple years older than me,” sunghoon replied but when he looked at eunwoo, he doesn’t see a scolding or discomfort welling up in his eyes - just unadulterated pride and joy in sunghoon’s growth.

“yeah. i know.”

sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, parking the bike in front of the entrance into the yacht bridge, flashing his detective badge at the attendant in the front - although he’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to, since there’s only one detective that was always called upon in strange cases like this: him.

“show me the way,” he says, trying his best to offer a charming smile. the attendant just sneers, pressing a button to open the gates into the yacht bridge with an unimpressed look, distrust swimming in his eyes and sunghoon does it best to keep it from affecting him.

today was going to be a long day.

[march 19, 20XX, 6:59 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon collapses on the sofa in the living area of mount justice, a defeated look on his face, a wet cloth draped over his face to release the heat that he felt was practically coming off of him in waves after getting off of work just prior to using the zeta tubes to reach mount justice.

“gotham city giving you some trouble?” soojin asks, sliding a plate of cookies over to where the heaping lump of sunghoon was.

“not really,” sunghoon sighs before taking the wet cloth off of his face. “never mind. yeah, it seems like one of our cases is a little more complicated than i had anticipated. don’t mind me though. are yujin and jake here yet?”

“they said something about a double date earlier so i doubt that they’ll get back until at least eight.” soojin munches on the cookies, nose crinkling in satisfaction as she analyzes the taste. “wow, y/n’s a good baker. can’t believe she didn’t share how talented she was before.”

“y/n made these?” sunghoon asks, staring at the cookies apprehensively. they’re a perfect golden-brown, with chocolate chips added generously to each one. “they honestly look store bought.”

“nope. i made them from scratch,” says a new voice in the room. y/n looks somewhat shy as she enters the room, carrying two plates of dinner served in each of them. “i’m learning like pyrokinetics are useful for cooking - and easier to use than stoves. i don’t really understand them.”

“you made dinner? with fire power?” sunghoon gawks, his stomach growls betraying him as he takes in the smell of the dinner that y/n had made. his arms reach out instinctively, and y/n hands him the plate gingerly, handing the other plate to soojin.

“i had a lot of help,” she says, hiding her hands behind her back to keep sunghoon from seeing the number of bandages on her hands from her clumsy first trials with using knives. knives = weapons in the dimension she was from, so she didn’t exactly have too much practice with them until now.

“don’t be humble. i didn’t do anything,” jay says, entering with two more plates of food. “i just showed her how refrigerators and garbage disposals worked.”

“you didn’t have refrigerators?” sunghoon says, turning to y/n, mixing the curry into the rice.

“no. i ate on a day to day basis so i never really needed one,” y/n says with a shrug, but sunghoon can see the sadness in her eyes. he takes a bite of the curry, as if to divert her attention and immediately, his eyes grow wide as he stares down at the plate.

how could curry even taste this good? was it even possible for chickpeas to taste like this? were these even chickpeas?

his eyebrows furrow as he analyzes the curry, trying to figure out exactly what she’d had added to make it taste so heavenly.

y/n take his silence in the opposite way that he meant it, however, and her face falls as she watches his reaction. “you don’t like it? i’m so sorry, i’m sure that soojin has some leftovers from lunch!”

sunghoon shakes his vigorously as she starts to move out of the room to heat up leftovers. “no! i mean, i love it. i genuinely was just taken aback by how good it is. i had no clue that you could cook like this, y/n.”

she blushes, the prettiest color rising in her cheeks. “it’s just some stuff that i’d picked up whenever i got bored. cookbooks are surprisingly easy to memorize and fun to read.”

“well whatever you did, you have got to teach me,” soojin says, her face scrunched up in pleasure. “this is so good, i feel like i’m gonna cry.”

“no kidding,” jay agrees, eyebrows furrowed in what looks like anger at just how good the dinner was.

“you guys are too sweet,” y/n says with a shy laugh, falling back into her seat when she’s met vehement protests at her humility, comparing her to some guy (gordon ramsey?) she’s not quite sure of.

“this is incredible,” sunghoon says, and his eyes shine when they meet with hers, causing her to avert her own eyes, his gaze heavy on her face.

“oh, i really hope there’s enough for yujin and jake when they get here. although, i kinda wanna get seconds. or thirds,” soojin says with a sigh of satisfaction.

“yujin’s coming?” y/n asks, perking up at the mention of artemis. “i haven’t seen her all day today.”

“yeah, they’ve been busy for the past couple days but jake’s been complaining that he’s lost his girlfriend to the new girl at mount justice. apparently yujin’s been worried about how you’re holding up, all the way on the other side of the country.” jay’s words cause y/n to descend into another flurry of bashful denial, smiling when she hears that her new friend would be returning to mount justice.

“speaking of those two, has jake talked to you guys about the proposal plans yet?” sunghoon asks, chewing slowly, as if that would make the food’s flavor last longer in his mouth. jay’s eyes dart between him, soojin, and y/n as if to ask silently if it was okay to let y/n in on secrets such as these - even if they weren’t exactly damning evidence for crucial missions.

we can trust her. i’ll explain later but for now, just know that whatever you could say to the team, you can say to her, sunghoon explains through the mindlink.

“oh yeah,” soojin says excitedly, clapping her hands. she turns to y/n with an excited twinkle in her eyes. “jake, yujin’s boyfriend and our resident speedster, is planning on proposing to yujin soon! he recruited our help to help make sure the whole day goes perfectly.”

y/n leans forward, equally enthusiastic as soojin. “really? that’s going to be so wonderful; i can’t even imagine how that would look like! gosh, i’m so excited.”

“has he decided on a date yet?” jay asks, the tension from before having evaporated when sunghoon confirmed that y/n was allowed to be privy to such information.

“he said something about a june date? after they graduate in may, for sure, and on a day when it’s sunny and calm out. he wants that to be the one day that things go according to plan,” sunghoon says with a snort, shaking his head at the antics of his best friend.

“can you blame him? it seems as though having things go according to plan is a luxury we do not experience very often in our field,” says a new voice, and the four of them turn to see heeseung enter the room with a motorcycle helmet in hand. “your helmet was about to become a chew toy for wolf, so i figured that i’d bring it to safety.”

y/n checks the entryway, perhaps as if to see if wolf, jay’s wolf friend and resident snuggle buddy, would follow his recently confiscated chew toy but it seemed that wolf had found satisfaction in other toys.

she’d seen him bite straight through concrete with unbridled enthusiasm the other day, so all she could hope was that his toy for the day wasn’t going to be her door. which was bulletproof metal, but she wasn’t exactly sure what that wolf was capable of.

“thanks heeseung. wanna grab dinner? y/n made it and it’s absolute heaven,” sunghoon says, pointing at the plate that he’d practically licked clean. heeseung nods, and the two of them head out of the living area to the kitchen to serve themselves.

“here, let me come with you. i can get dessert started too,” y/n says, standing up. “i got excited after learning how an oven worked - though i kinda ended up, uh, getting creative with my fire because that was faster - so i ended up making brownies too. anyone up for brownie ice cream?”

soojin and jay’s hands shoot up almost unbelievably quickly.

“wow, those speeds would put kid flash to shame,” sunghoon quips and soojin and jay just ignore him, scrambling to their feet as all of them make their way into the kitchen.

“just wait. you think this dinner and these cookies were good? those brownies put them all to shame,” jay says, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, not looking too unlike his canine companion.

“it seems that you have won the hearts of many, y/n,” heeseung says, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

y/n just looks at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. heeseung was the person that she was the least close to - bar sunghoon, but she was warming up pretty quickly to the ‘pretty boy detective’ as jay called him. heeseung, however, wasn’t around mount justice over the past few days that she’d been there for too long and it seemed like he always knew something that no one else did.

he probably did know, though. there was just some aura around him that made him seem incredibly all-knowing and wise.

“uh, y/n? are the brownies in the oven or in the fridge?” sunghoon asks, and y/n is successfully distracted, rushing over to the fridge to pull out the brownies she’d made earlier, flitting from the counter and the fridge to assemble the brownie ice cream.

once everyone had been served their portion (jay was a special exception to the only one brownie rule; super strength required special food sizes was his explanation), the five of them headed back to the couch area, soojin excitedly recounting jake’s proposal plan as well as she could through a mouthful of brownie and ice cream.

“she’s charged up,” sunghoon comments, leaning over to whisper in y/n’s ear. “she’s been pretty excited about this whole proposal thing.”

“i’m not sure if i’m right but it seems to be a hint to jay; i think she’s waiting for him to propose too,” y/n whispers back and sunghoon looks at her with wide eyes.

“really? does jay know that?” he asks and y/n shrugs, spooning ice cream into her mouth.

“i doubt it. i doubt that even soojin knows that how she’s coming across to others. or just me, i guess. it must be a ‘woman’s intuition’ type thing,” she explains, nodding along to whatever soojin was saying so as to appease her excitement.

“speaking of intuition, i have to ask you something, but i’ll ask you later, when there’s no one else here. i don’t want you to feel obligated or pressured into giving an answer because of people being around you,” sunghoon says under his breath, just loud enough for y/n to hear. he looks out of the corner of his eye to see her reaction but she’s surprisingly stoic, nodding just the slightest before jumping back into the conversation.

the little exchange goes unnoticed by jay and soojin but heeseung makes eye contact with sunghoon and tilts his head, almost imperceptive to the untrained eye. sunghoon just blinks and heeseung is appeased. nothing serious. just want to ask her something.

sunghoon was pretty sure that as the most quiet members of the team, heeseung and sunghoon could conduct entire conversations without a single word.

sunghoon had picked that up from eunwoo and heeseung was just…heeseung.

the conversation is interrupted when the zeta tubes announce the presence of the missing team members, jake and yujin.

they hear jake and yujin conversing in low tones before joining the group, setting down their duffel bags (team gear) and backpacks (school gear) before taking a seat on the loveseat opposite sunghoon and y/n.

heeseung looks around the room, with all of the loveseats fully occupied before looking down at his armchair, a soft laugh escaping his lips. and so he was in the armchair. alone. while the loveseats were occupied with duos and couples. huh.

“how is everyone doing today?” yujin asks, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

“good! oh, you guys need to try y/n’s cooking - she made dinner and it’s absolutely heavenly,” soojin says, ushering jake and yujin into the kitchen. jake and jay follow her (the latter most definitely going for another helping) but yujin stops when she reaches where y/n is sitting, extending her hand to clasp y/n’s gently.

“hope you’re adjusting well?” she asks and y/n nods, honey practically dripping from her eyes.

“yeah. jay and soojin have been really welcoming. and sunghoon! and heeseung, of course,” y/n adds the last two names hurriedly, bowing her head at the two men. “everyone has been really kind.”

“that’s good to hear,” yujin says with a soft grin before her gaze shifts to sunghoon. “captain? i think that we’ve got a few things that we need to discuss.”

she looks down at where y/n is still holding her hand and reluctantly lets go. “and i think that y/n should be there too. classification omega.”

sunghoon is taken aback. the events of the yacht bridge and chemical factory were strange, most definitely, but he’d expected something along the lines of arkham asylum’s inmates staging some level of a robbery. something more novel. classification IV, at most.

classification omega? that really only meant sunghoon, yujin, and heeseung could be in attendance. not that they couldn’t trust the rest of the team but classification levels were more based on just how much members were willing to give for the team. classification levels were more for the safety of the members, rather than anything else.

so information at that classification level made sunghoon worry but yujin’s expression seems more puzzled than grim so sunghoon just nods, offering y/n an appeasing smile when she looks between the three of them, searching for answers.

“i’ll explain when we get a chance to talk,” yujin says, her gaze fixed on y/n and it’s obvious that the words are meant to put y/n at ease, rather than offer any hints to either of them about what she could’ve possibly discovered in gotham. it seems to work when y/n’s shoulder descend from their tensed state just the slightest.

the other three return, with jake holding an extra plate of dinner for yujin as well and the air in the room turns lighthearted once more. both yujin and y/n seem to turn off the serious mindset they were simmering in as if it were a light switch. but sunghoon is unable to take his mind off of yujin’s words.

his questions are answered even without an explanation when he hears y/n scream just twenty-six minutes later.

[march 19, 20XX, 8:26 p.m.]

[belle rêve prison]

“you heard what?” one of the inmates asks incredulously. icicle sr. shivers, almost as if a chill had run down his spine, and shakes his head, suppressing any sign of fear as he restates what he’d heard that night.

belle rêve prison wasn’t exactly known for its hospitality but there were very few conditions when it came to cold weather that startled icicle sr. - but the reason why it felt as though there was a cold air in the room had nothing to do with temperature.

“i heard the canary scream. cry. whatever those justice freaks call it. but when we got to ace chemical factory, there was nothing there. no canary, nothing. not a single feather on the ground,” icicle sr. grinds out, and to the other inmates, it seems as though he’s angry that he had to repeat himself. but to icicle jr., his son and the newest addition to belle rêve’s top gang, he can see that the grit in his teeth is from pure, unadulterated fear.

which made icicle jr. want to piss his fucking pants.

there was very little that scared his father. so if it scared his father, it sure as hell scared him.

“you heard the cry but you didn’t see the bird?” another inmates says with a cocky expression. his words don’t carry the pomp he tries to convey them with since his voice trembles a bit too much to take him seriously.

“she’s not usually in gotham unless there’s a fight to pick with someone,” another inmate points out. icicle sr. is silent as the prison cafeteria breaks out into a cacophony of different people trying to give their input on what exactly had happened for black canary to appear in gotham all of a sudden.

“dad? you’re kinda quiet,” icicle jr. says and his father side-eyes for a long moment before shaking his head.

“it’s not her. it can’t be her.”

“why?”

“because…it wasn’t her voice. not that voice means anything when that goddamn scream is so loud. but it’s just not her. i know that.”

which meant that there was someone else in gotham who could utilize the canary cry.

[march 19, 20XX, 8:26 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon and yujin burst into a sprint the moment they can. that is, the moment that y/n stops screaming. sunghoon’s thoughts are all over the place as he tries to recon what had just happened.

the team had dispersed into different locations after dinner. jay and soojin had decided to leave mount justice to catch a late night movie while jake had with them when yujin broke the news that some of their findings were classification omega. he’d sulked at first (mostly about having to part from yujin again) but jay had enticed him into coming with them with promises of buying popcorn at the movie theater - as though they hadn’t just had three servings of dinner.

it was just yujin and sunghoon standing in the kitchen while heeseung went to make a call to a friend from atlantis (sunghoon had no clue that atlantis had cellphone reception). the two of them were silent, even though there were many words that had to be shared. it was as though neither of them knew how to share them and they were stuck in a standstill as they waited for y/n to return from the restroom for a quick shower and heeseung from his phone call.

sunghoon had just turned to yujin to ask her what she had found when an ear-piercing scream erupts from where the restroom across y/n’s room was. sunghoon and yujin both stumbled backwards, trying to regain their balance before setting off into a sprint, too many questions in their minds to think straight.

which brought sunghoon to the current moment, where y/n was standing next to her bed, clutching something shiny in her hands, wolf beside her, curled up into a ball of guilt and shame, his ears drooping as he looked up at the grief-stricken y/n.

her lips were still shaped as an ‘o’ as though she wanted to scream but she couldn’t find it within her to do so.

it takes less than three seconds for sunghoon to understand the situation: a) wolf had broken into her room while y/n was showering and had unknowingly destroyed something valuable to her. b) she possessed something valuable to her; something from the other dimension. c) she also had the canary cry - something that sunghoon had never heard of anyone else having besides black canary. d) the glass filled with water on her nightstand had shattered to pieces.

e) y/n faust was in gotham the night of the yacht bridge and ace chemical factory break ins.

what the hell were they going to do now?

#jnnul #sunghoon fic #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #park sunghoon #enhypen fluff #sunghoon imagines

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beril66 · 10 months ago

Text

So I am reading banger character analysis of various necron characters from people like Ghost and Magistralucis so I wanted to put my two sents in about two things; the absolute HYPOCRISY of Orikan the Diviner and necrons as a whole;

Those who have read I&D no doubt remember the incredible Opera scene. It was probably the most profound part of the entire book; more than their hilarious feud , their team up aganist Orks and subsequent betrayals , their clashes of importance of culture and history and complete disregard of it even if its your own (put a pin on that we'll come back to this) , the heartwrenching flashes of memories or even the final kaiju battles at the end. These two old coots finally FINALLY have to breath methaphorically and just...talk.

Well mostly Orikan talks. Conveniently 'just' remembering it was Trazyn who dragged him into the biofurnaces (even if you think for a MOMENT it's while possible HIGHLY improbable.) So he engages Trazyn in the way it would impact him the most. Through cultural analysis. Both @ghostinthegallery and @magistralucis did analysis on these scenes better than I ever could and I want to a particular parts of Orikan's speech because even as I know practically nothing about 40k or necrons (I&D is my first 40k book) it always made me laugh out loud at the absolute GALL of it.

"Children of Important people, judging by their clothing, though Orikan had no interest in this world or its Byzantine ideas of hierarchy' and

"but we call each other low and bumbling because we are highly civilized"

I legit laughed myself silly here before the gut punch of their interaction continued because... the ridiculous amount of lack of self awareness and hypocrisy just absolutely stunned me.

This is the SAME species who before the biotransference killed each other for basically for sport.

The same species who calls those who are in the lower class as 'it' and has literal philosophical works that brings their SAPIENCE AND SENTIENCE into question (Aristotle would be PROUD)

The same species where a crown prince can get away with shooting 50 commoner soldier in the head as a 'LESSON IN RULING' .

Same species STILL in some cases look down on Imotekh the fucking Stormlord just because he is apparently a 'sandborne'.

Same species who turned their entire lives and culture into a death cult.

The same species who seem to ironically instead of uniting and searching for a cure of their condition just continue to paint galaxy in red with their own and other species blood.

The same race after Old Ones rejected them decided to not just fought aganist them but TRIED TO DESTROY EVERY OTHER PEOPLE THEY COME ACROSS until Old Ones kicked their asses enough.

Tangent here; I mostly agree Old Ones refusing to at least cure them of their cancers is a massive dick move but a counter argument can be made; if you saw a species like necrontyr spread in the galaxy conquering everything they see (and lets be honest here.. if they had vassal species they most likely treat them worse than any Sand born) and the only thing keeping them in check is their sickness , internal political bullshit and equevalant species...would you help them?

And after ALL OF THAT you just...turn each on other and start to REALLY go at it to the point you get the attention of hungry melicious star parasites.

After completely ignoring the increasingly desperate warnings of your almost always correct court astromancer and paint him as insane and a charlatan;

THEN these things, using higher echelon's desperation for eternal life fool you into turning your entire race into soulless terminators because suprise!! During your transformation of course the 'gods' duped you and not only they stuck you into sub-optimal metal coffins , not only (some lore bits implies nobility %100 aware and content) %95 precent of your population is lobotomized , not only you are made to forget %98 of your entire culture even forget where your homeworld is , not only you sacrificed every single class of your young children and will NEVER have future generations EVER, but the cherry on top of this shit cake is your souls are gobbled by said star parasites and also ALL of you, SK included turned into their slaves.

So you and your new masters start a 5 million years worth of war so horrific you give chaos such a power boost , killed about %80 of the galaxy , forced psykic frogs into tearing the first anus in reality and drove the possibly only species keeping the Chaos Gods in check into (possible) extinction. You fucked the afterlife for everyone else until the heat death of the universe in Milky Way.

After that little debacle you turn on your gods , fought them, shatter them (and 'kill' one that in some shape harmed the reality) then after seeing the absolute devestation your gods and kind inflicted go to 60 millions of years of sleep which lets be honest helped more than hurt as mental problems were cropping up BEFORE the end of the war (TDK)

Now you are waking up and did you learn ANYTHING from all of the 5 million worth of life experience?

They learned jackshit thats what happened. Every single sapient necron even the likes of Trazyn, even Zhandrekh are still making the SAME mistakes and inflicts same cruelties they kind always had done.

Trazyn is at the end of the day is a thief and a kidnapper. I&D happened BECAUSE he was so stubborn to steal that gem he wounded the World Spirit and caused the Deciever shard to gain enough power by sending some Aeldari souls his way before Slaanesh can take them. My guy killed an ENTIRE WORLD for a joke.

We all know the reason he is so obsessed with his work is to keep himself sane and have a purpose but just imagine the GOOD he can do. He library rivals the actual BLACK LIBRARY in universe. He tried to help at Cadia and it was amazing to see but at the end of the day even Trazyn didn't seem to grasp that the galaxy is dying in front of him and he can CHANGE that. Or unwilling. This is the worst attributes of the necrons; not caring when they actually really SHOULD.

Zhandrekh is as much as the setting allows is a good man. He could be considered kind even in Flesh Times. He is an honourable man. He is also a terrifyingly competent warlord serving Imotekh whose damage seems to be his insaitable desire to conquer and CONTROL (as much as we know GW for what? 8 years didn't characterized him other than "really clever , great general , obsession with proving his worth and control by dueling with strong opponents"). I think people forget about that about him. He didn't lost a SINGLE campaign aganist Imperium. My senile old sweet man is TERRIFYING.Not much more to say about him honestly he is a good dude in a horrific setting with dementia and married to his bodyguard.

Now lets come to Orikan. Orikan the Diviner is %100 has the right to be a resentful bastard to his own people. He tried so hard to stop the catasthrophy of biotransference. Not only he didn't succeed but they THROW HIM AGANIST HIS WILL into the fires.

What I really like about him however is while he is a venomous , back stabbing little bastard who takes a little too much pleasure of his people' suffering he has these...flashes that shows there is SOMETHING kinder underneath deep deep DEEP down. He didn't want to destroy Serenade. Interestinf thing about him is he only refers to humans as an "it" ONCE. And thats a corpse something even we do. These are very small but it shows Orikan ISN'T just a complete and utter douchbag XD

That being said Orikan abject denial of basically anything positive about anything or anyone necron or not shows how small minded he can be. His destruction of necrontyr artifacts, his dismissal of human anything without giving it a try (like apperantly SK prepared shadow puppet theater for palace kids? How is that a drivel Orikan???) Etc. He simultaneously despises everything necrontyr/necron that ISN'T his or Vishani's provess in their fields yet claims total superiority in everything Necrons do as he insults them. He is the single most hypocritical character bar chaos SM.

Don't get me wrong its a great character work and shows us how flimsy necron identity even is. Because minus general archetypes of their dynasties they have...none. Soulless God Killers isn't an identity. It's the curse of their entire species however metal (pun intended) it is to turn your treacherous gods into cattle. At the end of the day however advanced tech they possess or claims to have high manners (if they are sentient enough) or 'elegance' they are as barren as a civilization can get in all account bar tech.

And the fact that they can call themselves 'Civilized' making me giggle for the sheer absurdity of it BECAUSE they equate technological advancement as 'Cultured amd civilized'.

Necrons while I LOVE THEM and want them to have a happy ending (I want that for all species honetly everyone is horrible in 40k its okay :D) are the indisputed the WORST people in this shithole of a galaxy.

Imperium in many ways are lightyears ahead of us technologically would we call them civilized? Aeldari despite all their tech and arts were creating blood orgies on bodies of sacrificed children and I didn't met many people who would consider even the today's Crafworld Aeldari civilized.

Necrons are the same as these two. There is beside technology and cultural ticks no difference between them. Orikan calls the class system of Serenade 'Byzantine ideas' while he himself is subjected to the EXACT SAME THING in Mendragora court.

So if we rib on the Imperium and Aeldar...why shouldn't we on necrons?

All the races of the Milky Way are sides of a multi-faced coin (except Tyranids obviously). Bloodthirsty , cruel savages with certain exceptions in characters because they are marginally less shitty than the rest (Trazyn , Zhandrekh , Oltyx , Yenekh , Eldrad , Vulcan , Farsight , Shadowsun , Jaghatai Khan etc.) Who wants the same thing.

Necrons are just the most delusional of them all and its so tragic it loops back around to being funny. All races have fell from grace in Warhammer. The Necrontyr might be the only race started with very little redeeming qualities though. And the have not changed a SINGLE BIT in 65 fucking MILLION YEARS besides Oltyx (who because the Flayer King. A literal flesh tearing and wearing monster) . A single character. This is beyond horrific when you think about it.

Ironically in 40k DAOT humans might have been the most civilized race ever existed. They had peace treaties with ORKS. Interex have not eradicated Mega-arachnids just banished them to a world where they can live and let live. Diasporex just wanted to be left alone. Humanity even Aledari used to have compassion. Necrontyr and necron minus few never had that as a SOCIETY. Not to their own NOT to others. (I am not humans fuck yeah! In the slightest but...history speaks for itself)

And with their souls gone it seems something needs to shake them up so badly to start actual REFLECTION of eho they have been/who they are. Because with the way the are going...their minds will give long before their bodies do.

Sooo...this is my 'analysis' of the hypocrisy of Orikan and Necrons as a whole considering them so above all despite being in the same mudpit wirh other races. Would love to hear your opinions do you agree? Disagree?

#necrons #warhammer 40k #orikan the diviner #trazyn the infinite #necrons are objectively the most pitiable race in 40k #they feared death so so much yet even after become what they are they are still terrified #take reanimation protocols from them and you can make them to practically ANTHING #their society was a fucking nightmare as necrontyr #at least the commoners have no mind to suffer anymore #'Allegedly' because certain lore bits implies they ARE basically suffering from. 'locked in syndrome #thats a face I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy #like they legit basically killed EVERY SINGLE CHILD #when you think about it #Oltyx was about 17-18 . I think really young ones like 11-12 regardless of class turned into a warrior #I love them but boy do they pathetic as a species #Sad depressed skeletons needs a collective reality check #i love them anyway

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nighthaunting · 8 months ago

Text

You ever have a moment where you reconsider something you thought a lot about in the past but then sort of turned your attention away from for a while, and your new perspective just blows the whole thing open?

Me thinking about russ and magnus during ATS/PB today after years of taking a break from HH/40K lore yielded one such series of revelations.

I was thinking about Betrayer and Russ' attempt to give Angron a lesson via the Night of the Wolf. I was thinking about Prospero Burns and Russ' belief that he's had a direct line to Magnus this whole time via Kaspar. I was thinking about that 'please'. And.

I know this is pretty much canon to the text but I've never before really Considered that one of Russ' motives in keeping this guy alive and sending him out on compliances with his Legion was (Russ believed at least) letting Magnus see the SW in action and hoping that this might influence him into trying to Avoid doing anything that might cause Russ to be sent after him.

In the past I've talked a lot about the SW keeping Kaspar around to see what would happen in terms of thinking the TS were up to something or going to do something to the Legion, which is very much the assumption the Chaos entity wanted them to make, but looking back I tbh think i slept on the concept of Russ, who canonically has taken out at least one of the Lost Primarchs in an event which is prefers not to speak (or at least the codex Strongly Implies that Russ has been used against another primarch before), and who also canonically went into the Night of the Wolf fully willing to die to make his point to Angron if only Angron could understand what he was doing.

I'm sort of compelled by the concept because in a sense Russ was letting (what he thought was) Magnus take a peek behind the barbarian mask he likes to put on, to see into a more genuine heart of his legion, letting his guard down a bit by allowing this obviously-compromised spy in. Much the same way he let the mask drop when he went to try and talk some sense into Angron, bringing up philosophy and reading and ideals that Russ' ignorant-but-noble barbarian persona would never admit to being interested in let alone reading.

And both times the gambit failed, in Magnus' case because it wasn't Magnus on the other end of the line, and in Angron's case because he was too far gone to really get what Russ was illustrating for him.

The whole thing was orchestrated so well, ironically giving the "proof" that Magnus was up to something via this sleeper agent spy that the SW were toting around with them, playing on Russ being curious enough to keep this guy around and connect the dots on the (false) links between this guy and the TS. I have this headcanon that Russ and Lorgar were actually fairly close, with Russ actually talking to Lorgar about Lorgar's writings, because he didn't seem surprised that Russ had read them and had thoughts on them in Betrayer, so I actually sort of like the idea that he had a hand in setting up the fall of Prospero? I like the tragedy of the idea that he at least had some input on the idea, being familiar enough with Russ to know he'd take the bait.

Which would make that a third time Russ got genuine with someone and had it either fail or be used against him...

#i'm sorry i love to torment him #russ' whole deal is that he's trapped in the mask he constructed for himself #and yet also unwilling to unmask himself and be genuine until its too late #he desperately doesn't want to kill another brother so he keeps trying to engineer shit to steer them away from situations #where he'd have to kill them #unfortunately that being the Only time he's genuine means it never fucking works #russ being Canonically Dionysian coded in the Apollonian-Dionysian duality truly coming back to bite him in the ass every time #sorry buddy but you're 'futility of fighting fate' chaotic unjust nature coded and all your angst about the role you were created to play #is entirely apt but also completely a self-fulfilling prophesy in terms of your ability to forge the relationships that would have saved yo #something something and this is why valdor tops but that's a whoooooole other essay #leman russ #warhammer 40k #russ’ hug brigade

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syncopein3d · 9 months ago

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Pain that can only be relieved by touch, pressure, weight. I don't mean sexually. I never mean that with whump, in fact. I mean, imagine a whumpee who has been worked so hard that every muscle is agony if they even think about moving. Massage is painful at first, but as the muscles warm and loosen the pain starts to gradually ease. Now they're desperate for it not to stop, where when it started they were gritting their teeth and stifling noises of pain.

Consider a space marine from Warhammer 40k's Deathwatch. (I know a lot of y'all whump friends prefer twinks to these inhuman genefreak monsters that I love, but imagine the marines as all drawn by the great Vezimira or tagedeszorns if that makes you see the vision.) The only way you can canonically get veterans from radically different chapters to work together seamlessly is to drive them to the point of collapse.

Space marines do not tire out easily, so we're talking days to weeks of training in armor without a pause, living off the recycling systems. By the time they're finally allowed to pause they practically have to carry each other back to quarters. A Salamander might have to literally carry an Ultramarine (Guilliman is a less physical guy as Primarchs go) or an OG Blood Angel (depending on where they are in their Red Thirst progression; they probably can't stop and slurp down a Serf Capri Sun during DW training). A Templar helps haul a literally unconscious Blackshield who's some kind of comparatively smaller purple-eyed albino from who knows what ancient chapter. He hates that, hates this weakness, but he will not shame his own chapter by letting the squad fail.

So at some point all of that is over, the tech-priests have taken the armor away to be serviced, and everyone has been slapped back to consciousness and been given a good talking to by the Templar veteran and a more surreptitious word of encouragement by the old Salamander. They all stumble through scrubbing down with scouring powder in the showers, and the Salamander, every scar of achievement twinging, can finally flop facedown onto the slab in his quarters. Maybe his branding priest or priestess is there, a trusted grandchild of a niece or nephew twice removed, not the first of his extended family to perform the office and already growing old in his service. He can hear them bustling around murmuring orders to the serfs. When the first pour of hot oil hits his back a heavy muscle twitches, startling the younger ones, but with a little encouragement they roll up their sleeves and dive in. Massaging ceremonial oil into an Astartes is no easy task, but now it is made easier by the limp exhaustion of the Son of Vulkan's muscles. At first they can see sinews pop out in his jaw and temple against the pain, because they've never had an unkind word from Milord the Astartes, and he's not about to start now. But as they go along his face slowly relaxes. The middle back between the shoulders proves a bit stubborn, and at a nod from the elderly branding priest, a bigger and younger serf climbs up to kneel on the Salamander's back so he can pound on it with his two fists bunched together. They all see the sigh of relief from the triple lungs, raising and lowering the young man in place.

On his night-black skin with its network of little red cracks, the older of the whorls of paler scarring are hard to read, faded with time. They'll have to be renewed one of these days, while the priest remembers what they were. But for now the space marine is at rest, breathing easier as a dozen little weights knead at his sore body.

The ones who serve the Templar veteran are probably going to need mallets, and if he thinks any one of them is trying to spare him he'll bat them across the room. They'll die, or they'll learn. The Blood Angel's serfs are pale and listless, and at least one definitely won't survive the night, but at least he'll be unfailingly gentle and courteous with the survivors. The son of Guilliman's serfs run like a well-oiled machine. He might mumble a mild reprimand if he notices anything isn't precisely according to routine, but he's not a harsh man, only a very meticulous one.

The Blackshield has no one who is particularly his servant. They serve the Deathwatch. They handle him carefully enough, aware of how temperamental some Astartes are, but not with any affection or reverence. He wouldn't be a Blackshield, chapterless, brotherless, if he was not dishonored in some way. In the end, there will be a pile of serfs sleeping on rugs around the base of the Salamander's slab. The Blackshield will be alone.

#whump #whumpblr #whumphammer #warhammer 40k whump #warhammer 40000 whump #exhaustion whump #military whump #syncopein3d future reference

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pinehutch · 6 months ago

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤

Thank you for tagging me!

I should be honest: I am not much of a fic writer. This isn't self-effacing; I've been reading fic since the early aughts but only have 10 works on ao3. One of them is a poem. One of them is a few hundred words of something I've never finished.

That said, fic is important to me for a lot of reasons, but one is that in 2016 I started following a tumblr for a Dragon Age fic exchange, and in 2017 I wrote the first fiction I'd written in almost 20 years. I had been struggling to write poetry for about 10 years before that, too, and fic writing was part of my path back to writing at all.

This isn't to say that I think fanfic is valueless unless it results in 'original' writing; every story happens in context, and we all know how the lines between fanwork and original work blur, both in fan spaces and in commercial ones. But my particular, personal fondness for fic is because it gave me a path back to the first best thing of my life, which was language, and what we do with it.

With that said, my personal top five (links in titles):

Fundamental Forces (or, Root Causes)

Literally my first fic. This was when I remembered that writing can be fun. It's Dragon Age fic, femHawke/Varric. It's also written with a focus on Hawke's POV, a thing I think I pulled off quite well and have never attempted again. It's very silly. It features a 40-year-old and a 35-year-old being profoundly bad at emotional honesty. I riff on turnips for a while. It has a happy ending, which should surprise no one.

She breathed in through her nose and her eyes fluttered shut. “Kiss me, you idiot. Before they think I’m horrified.” Their first kiss. Quick and mostly chaste and part of a joke. She thought it was fitting.

Chapter Last

This is also T-rated Hawke/Varric, written for the same exchange, a year later. It's about near-misses, and trying again, and not being able to pick up where you left off, and it's stumbling back onto the path later, unexpectedly, and after having found another way. It is about stories, and why we do them.

It's fic of the games, of course, but in a way it's also fic-of-fic: there's a novella that's both a tie-in novel and a diegetic book in the Dragon Age setting, and it was printed irl the summer before I wrote this fic.

What I'm proud of, with this story, is character voice. Whenever I share any Varric-voice writing, even years later, people always say very generous things. Varric's also a writer, canonically, and I had fun mimicking 'his' style in passages of this, and trying to keep in mind how his writing and his inner narration would align and diverge. (Lots of Dragon Age fans are understandably thirsty about Varric; I think I've always found him relatable, in many ways, and it didn't occur to me to thirst. But I love him.)

I don't love the structure; I chaptered this, and way more than I needed to. I'd love to rewrite it, someday, but I also think it's good for me to sit with the awareness of its imperfections and the knowledge that people have loved it anyway.

Afterimage (there are two colours)

The Magnus Archives fic, E-rated. Basira/Daisy. This was meant to be a single installment in a series - I think I have a 20,000 word 'outline' in my gdocs, still, but I'm unlikely to ever finish it. The point of this story is self-indulgent, purple-prose, dreamy smut. Wanting the thing and having it, but not keeping it.

This was baby's first E-rated fic ever written. I have no explanation for this, either.

Transformative Work

Written for the 2022 OFMD Big Bang with @mia-ugly. Mostly Frenchie/Jim, a bit Jim/Oluwande, a bit Frenchie/Oluwande, a light sprinkling of polycule potential.

Transformative Work is my favourite thing I've posted to ao3 for three reasons.

It's 40k! I never finish longer works, so 40k is a big deal to me.

I think it's actually brilliant. Clever as hell, at minimum. But mostly brilliant.

It's collaborative!

Writing has always been a solitary thing for me; one of the things I love about Mia is how we can get on a wavelength about a story. (This is mostly a them trick: they're an excellent collaborator and instigator, in general.) I wasn't at my best when we were writing this, dealing with undiagnosed health issues and workplace burnout and an accumulation of grief, but it was beautiful and joyful work, in the end.

Also, I think it is almost exactly what we wanted it to be, and that is such a high.

Number 5 is a bit of a cop-out but still:

Remember when I said "we all know how the lines between fanwork and original work blur"? This is a poem I started writing when Succession 4.3, "Connor's Wedding" aired. I was in a worst spot than I had been the previous year, health-wise, grief-wise.

The title of this poem, "My Father's Dead and I Feel Old," comes out of Connor Roy's mouth in the episode. I had to pause the episode and just get pummeled by that perfect, simple line of iambs. I was a wreck, just generally. Yeah, man, my father is dead and I do feel old! That sort of thing. (The aforementioned health issue? Still not identified or addressed when this aired in spring 2023, btw. My brain was not braining well.)

But there were words for it. I was off work on medical leave at the time. I had just made the transition from crying like it was a full-time job to sleeping like it was a full-time job. The sleep wasn't helping. The crying hadn't helped, either. It wasn't something people could help. But words, and what we do with them - that helped.

Anyway, I'm actually quite proud of this poem, both as an original piece of poetry and as fanwork. It's not on ao3 for reasons including 'I haven't gotten around to it' and 'I don't know if this is sufficiently transformative, by the invisible guidelines I've just set for myself.'

Thank you for sending this to me, it was a lovely thing to think about on my Friday eve! <3

#writing #fic what i wrote #ask game #dragon age fic #tma fic #succession fic #i guess?#this post was written on the fly as I drank an edible so please be gracious if it's an entire mess

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youchangedmedestiel · 8 months ago

Note

Ask Game!

25 & 29

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?

I don't remember feeling upset as I wrote something. At least not yet. My writing actually helps me process things and deal with feelings. I tend to write happy endings but if somehow I end up writing a fic that doesn't, then maybe I'll be upset. If I manage to write about widower arc Dean one day, I'll probably be upsed, maybe that's why I don't write about him (yet).

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

It's a fic that happens after 8x22, one chapter is actually a fic I read and inspired me to write more about it and then it turned into something with more than 40k words. It was one of the first fic I wrote. I was experimenting my writing actually and words just kept flowing at me. I was just trying, okay? I just finished the show I had to let this all out and I was exploring their relationship. Anyway, don't judge me please. The scene I'm sharing with you happens in Dean's room at the bunker, there you go:

“Cas, what are you doing here?” Dean asks frowning, clearly still mad at Castiel’s reaction toward the flirty waitress. Castiel stands up and presses play on the stereo to start the song “The Rain Song” from Led Zeppelin. Dean looks at the stereo with his eyebrows still frowning, not understanding what is happening, since Castiel doesn’t answer his question.

“I need to tell you something, Dean.” Castiel starts smiling, walking toward Dean, while Dean just stands there, where he is looking at him. “I know you like this band and this song. This is why I chose it. And I know you know the lyrics but please listen to them. You will understand what I want to tell you.” Dean tilts his head and parts his lips, surprised. Even though, he doesn’t remember all the lyrics, not remembering every exact word, he knows what it is about. Plus, with the worry face Castiel makes, Dean understands what is happening. This is scaring the hell out of him but it is happening and he can’t stop it, he doesn’t really want to anyway. So, he smiles at him.

“Cas” he starts, wanting to apologize for doubting him with the waitress, but Castiel stops him instantly.

“Listen, Dean.” During the first lyrics, Castiel comes closer to Dean and extend one hand toward him. “I would like to dance with you,” Castiel offers. Dean hesitates while staring at him and puts his hand in Castiel’s. Both smiles as they lean in at the same time. Dean removes his hand from Castiel’s and puts his hands on his lower back, while Castiel puts his arms around Dean’s neck. When the first lyrics are sang, he rests his chin on Dean’s shoulder, while they dance slowly together.

“Listen,” he tells Dean again, whispering in his ear.

It is the springtime of my loving

The second season I am to know

You are the sunlight in my growing

So little warmth I've felt before

It isn't hard to feel me glowing

I watched the fire that grew so low, oooh, oh

“You helped me grow. You changed me, Dean.” Castiel starts when the first lyrics are over and only the melody stays, moving back his head to stare into Dean’s eyes while he cups his head with his hands. “You taught me so many things, you taught me how to feel. You taught me about free will. And I believed in it, I have faith in it, I have faith in you. I would do anything for you. I would die for you. I never used you, Dean. I never will.” Castiel says finally calling back to what happened in Dean’s first fantasy.

“Cas –“ Dean starts, swallowing his tears. “I know that now. I should have never doubted you, I’m sorry.” Dean says lowering his gaze, but Castiel lifts his head up a little bit, already missing looking into his eyes. Dean’s eyes are back staring at Castiel’s blue.

“And I’m sorry I gave you some reasons to believe I would do this to you.” Castiel’s eyes starts to be fill with tears too.

“You didn’t Cas, it’s not you. It’s me. I always think people will leave me.”

“I never will, Dean. I couldn’t. You hear me? I always come back to you at some point. When you told me that we were family, that you needed me in that crypt. You broke the hold Naomi had on me, Dean. Don’t you understand? I can’t stay away from you for too long. If I do it’s because I have no other choice and it’s to keep you safe.” Castiel’s heart is racing, carried away by the emotions invading him.

“You had a choice in Purgatory, and you chose to stay. You chose to let me leave without you.” Dean throws, remembering how hurt he felt at the time, when Castiel showed him what really happened at the gate, he even altered his own memories to avoid knowing Castiel’s left him on purpose.

“It was different I was feeling so much guilt about the Leviathans, about what I did to people, to angels and to you. I didn’t deserve to go out with you. I didn’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you.”

“You do, Cas. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you. I always get angry and end up hurting people I care about. Hurting you.”

“It’s not true. You are not like that. Not at all. You see yourself how our enemies sees you but they are all wrong, you too. And you do, Dean. Deserve me.” Castiel says resting his head again on Dean’s shoulder, with his face buried in his neck this time. “Now, let’s dance slowly again. I like doing that with you. And listen to the song.” Castiel smiles against Dean’s neck.

It is the summer of my smiles

Flee from me, keepers of the gloom

Speak to me only with your eyes

It is to you I give this tune

Ain't so hard to recognize, oh

These things are clear to all from time to time, ooh

Oh, oh

“You are not like you said you are, Dean. When I look into your eyes, and after all these years, all I see is the most caring human in the whole world looking back at me. You care about people, ready to risk your own life to save them. You saved the world so many times. You saved ME too.” Castiel says moving his head back again to stare into Dean’s eyes, showing how much he deeply thinks what he is telling him.

Ah, talk, talk, talk, talk

Hey!

I've felt the coldness of my winter

I never thought it would ever go

I cursed the gloom that set upon us, upon us, upon us

But I know that I love you so, ohhhh, oh

But I know that I love you so

These are the seasons of emotion

And like the wind, they rise and fall

This is the wonder of devotion

I see the torch we all must hold

This is the mystery of the quotient, quotient

Ah, upon us all, upon us all a little rain must fall

Just a little rain, oh yeah

Uhh, ooooh, yeah yeah yeah

Castiel pulls back for the third time to look at Dean again. Dean is used to it now and he knows it means Castiel still has something to tell him. “We have been through so much together, you and me. Despite or thanks to all that, today I am able to say that –“ Castiel stops taking a deep breath to put all he feels in three little words as much as possible. “I love you”. He finally confesses, letting a tear run down his cheek. Dean swallows hard and wipes it with his thumb. He guessed what Castiel wanting to tell him, knowing the song, but he needed to be sure, he needed to hear what he had to say and he needed to hear that he loves him.

“I love you too, Cas.” Dean grabs Castiel’s neck with one hand and pulls him closer. He brushes their lips together, a desperate and passionate kiss, saying ‘I love you’ in another way again. Dean is overwhelmed by Castiel’s love and kiss, not controlling what is getting out of his mouth, his emotions, his feelings for him are getting the upper hand. “My mom used to tell me that angels were watching over me. I couldn’t believe her anymore when she died. But then, I met you Cas. And you gave me faith again. You always took care of me. You always watch over me, even when I sleep.” Dean chuckles and continues his speech, more seriously, putting his heart out. “Then, I fell in love with you as I never did before. I didn’t believe I could love someone like I love you. Cas, you are the light in my life, never think otherwise. You are my angel, you always have been.” Castiel smiles fondly at Dean’s confession, feeling his heart exploding in his chest, wanting to go out of it.

“I’m all yours and you are all mine.” Castiel declares with some lust replacing the happy tears in his eyes. “The song is already finished.” Castiel observes, looking at the stereo disappointed, while the music has ended a few minutes ago, but they were too focus on each other to notice.

“The song last more than 7 minutes, Cas.” Dean reminds him, chuckling, despite he didn’t notice when it ended either.

“I know, but it’s not enough. I like dancing with you, holding you in my arms.”

“I agree, I like it too.” Dean declares smiling fondly, stroking Castiel’s jaw with one hand.

“We should do that again some time.”

#thank you for the ask #ask game #one of my first fic #just a bit of it #it's difficult to understand with the context before I guess but it's still cute anyway #I'll probably never post it #there's a lot of smut in there #one chapter is not from me #they're also pretty out of character #but I guessed I needed to write it to let it all out #to try how was my writing too because I never wrote anything before #there's a zeppelin song in it #the rain song #it was hard to find one with a slow rhythm so they could dance #one where they could talk between lyrics #I noted the timestamp between them and timed how much time the lines should take for them to say so it could fit #and also with lyrics that matched their relationship in the fic #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #writing fanfiction #ao3 writer #I wasn't one at the time #I was just writing for myself #my destiel fanfic #emms answers

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