#but that really added to the feeling of how freaky this must have been for the boys!

[huffle-dork]

Swap into the CrystalVerse Chapter 13: Fantasy Masks

Co-written with @crystalninjaphoenix 

Read Swapboys | Read Fantasy Masks | AO3 Link

Prologue | Switch | Stitched | PNPT | Septicheroes Taglist: @brokentimewatch @di-diwata  

Bro is used to falling by now, and used to landing in strange places. But this is the strangest yet. It's a wide open room, filled with boxes and trunks and racks of medieval-looking clothes. The roof above is canvas, stretched over large white support beams that curve gently. This room must be large, but his vision of it is obscured because of all the stuff around. It's cool, but not winter-cold like that world with the kids.

"Hwaet!"

That's... a word? Definitely a voice. Where did it come from?

Bro pushes himself up and looks around in confusion. The fuck is he now? ... a theater maybe? Cuz those look like costumes....

"umm.. hello??" He calls out.

As Bro stands up, one of the racks of clothing is pushed to the side and he is immediately confronted with the tip of a sword. Not a fake plastic sword. Not a metal replica found at a fair or convention. This is a heavy-looking, razor-sharp, thirty-five-inch-long knightly sword.

Bro pushes back as much as he can to get away from the- sword?? A FUCKING SWORD?? "H-Holy shit-"

It's being wielded by a man wearing a waist-length red cloak and a wolf mask... and the rest of the man's clothes are similarly medieval.

"Tshais?" the man says, eyes widening behind the mask. Then he shakes his head. "Ní he, ní é thusa é."

"Dyaki?" Another voice calls, and someone else appears. A man wearing a white tunic-thing and--and the first man covers the other's face before Bro can get a good look. "Gah! Dyaki, cadé aan saolile?!"

"Caor uir tho aghaidh," the first man says. "Níl sé dó Tshais."

The second man quickly pulls on a mask shaped like an owl. "Cadatá aer sil?"

"Níl a fhiasagim! Dheial raigh sé!"

...What the fuck is going on?

Bro can barely tell what's going on as he looks between the two men, "f-fuck I... I can't tell what you're saying- ummm hi? I.. I'm Chase! can you not... point that very sharp and real sword at me please?"

The two men blink in almost comical unison. It's hard to tell what their expressions are under the masks, but it's clear they're just as confused as he is. They look at each other.

"A bhfuil an fies agatcén te anga a bían?" asks the wolf-masked one.

The owl-masked one shakes his head. "Ní aith ním aer shor aer bithé."

The wolf-masked man stares at Bro for a moment more. Then lowers the sword, but does not sheathe it.

"Tá brón yom," he says.

"Dyaki, cén f--"

"Is léir ghaer de mhuentor ann FhaoNaigh é," the wolf insists. "Caith fimid bhaifh measeil. Agus gan ainmneasha, ceimhni?"

The owl winced. "Diar mé oer ash 'Dyaki.'"

"...Foc."

Bro backs up more and keeping ping-ponging between the two men talking, though he doesn't understand anything. It kinda sounds like when his aunts would curse in irish but- also way different. It feels... older. God he wished Alt was here... maybe he knew a translation spell or something.

The wolf-masked one notices his growing confusion. "Tá brón yom," he repeats. He leans closer to the owl and murmurs something that Bro can't hear, then looks back at him. "Iss féid irlaet 'Dyaki' a laoch yom." The man gestured at himself. "'Dyaki.'"

He points at the owl-masked man. "Iss féid irlaet 'Henrik' a thabh aetaer. 'Henrik." The owl inclines his head.

"Cad Iss féid irlinn laoch oer?" The wolf points at Bro.

"Dyaki..." Bro repeats with a slow nod. Then, his eyes light up, "Oh! Henrik!" He smiles, relived. At least they found someone who he... sort of recognized.

The owl--Henrik's eyes widen.

Dyaki looks at him. "A bhfuil aithme oer? Cén shoi a bhfuil aithme aer FhaoNaigh?!"

"Níl aithme!" Henrik protests.

Oh- maybe they know sign? ... it could be worth a try.

Bro tries to sign I'm sorry, I can't understand you. Do you know sign? even if he's a bit clumsy with it.

Then Henrik’s eyes widen further as he sees Bro sign. "An labh raíon sé i láemhi?"

"Ní labh raíon i láemhi é sin a aithmím." Dyaki shakes his head. He finally sheaths his sword... and begins making gestures. It's clearly sing language of some sort, but it's not BSL.

Bro grins bashfully and holds up his hands, "ah okay.... that doesn't work either... shit- ...doesn't my phone have real time translation?” He pulls out his phone and tries to see if it even works.

Bro's phone does indeed work. But in the upper left corner where it usually provides cell bars and WiFi, it simply says No Service.

Bro tsks under his breath, "Of fucking course.. just my luck..."

"Cadé aan saolile?" Henrik steps forward, right up to Bro, and stares at his phone. He reaches out. "An féidi lom yeamháil...?"

"Henrik!" Dyaki looks stunned at the fact that Henrik is reaching for Bro's phone, as if he's committed some social faux pas.

"Féash aer," Henrik says quietly. "Táse shomh ai teash, caithfi mé iarash."

Bro looks at Henrik reaching for the phone and he looks confused but he offers it to him. "Uh- maybe you know where to get some service? Are we just in a bad spot? ... im realizing you can't understand me either but talking gives me comfort-"

Henrik takes the phone gently, like it's made of porcelain, and turns it over in his hands. He seems interested in the buttons and charging port at first, but then notices that the screen responds to touch and eagerly begins swiping back and forth between the home screens.

"Dyaki, féash aer!" he says excitedly. "Is motael aus gloena a lashonn! Aus frea raíonn sé, féash! Ní fhaka mé draíosht marse riam."

"Isé draíosht aan FhaoNaigh," Dyaki mutters. "Tabhair aisdó é."

"Tá, tá." Henrik nods and gives the phone back to Bro. "Rai moith a ghat."

Bro watches them look at his phone with increasing confusion. It’s like… they’ve never seen one before. That’s… really weird. But- technically with the kids they went into the past… What if they went even further?

Bro panics a bit at this thought and stumbles to stand up. “Uh- you all keep saying… FhaoNaigh- I don’t think.., I’m that? I- where is this?” He tries to look around more to see if he can get more hints, taking off his mask and shoving it in his pocket in the meantime. His hair fades back to his regular brown. “I’m not a FhaoNaigh- my name is Chase! I need to- god where’s alt??”

The two men step back, looking surprised and worried at Bro's distress. "FhaoNaigh?" Dyaki repeats, pointing at Bro with confusion.

Bro shakes his head at being called that again.

"Fuaimean séosil o bhfuil sé ará 'Tshais,'" Henrik mutters.

"Is cumalei ndáiríre," Dyaki emphasizes. "Ommm... Lasmuigh?" He points to the side and starts walking in that direction. "Téi lasmuigh?" He gestures for Bro to follow him.

As Dyaki points and directs Bro to follow, he slowly does, really trying to look at everything as they walk.

Henrik and Dyaki murmur to each other as they walk, allowing Bro ample time to look at the stuff. All these trunks and boxes and various containers... he doesn't see anything made of cardboard or plastic. These clothes... they're more than medieval-looking, the stitches look hand-done. And sometimes they come across weapons. They all look real. And there is not a firearm in sight.

“What the fuck….” Bro breathes, “please tell me this is just some really convincing re-enactors… or a ren faire… those are fun I like those-“

"Hwaet!"

They've reached the edge of the room. It looks like this place is a massive... dome? The white stone rafters curve down to meet the floor. Dyaki pushes aside a flap in the canvas and again gestures for Bro to follow.

Bro looks around at the dome and squints at it before following after Dyaki again.

Outside is a camp, pitched of tents. Not colorful tents with mesh and fabric. Strong, sturdy tents made of canvas. The sky above is bright blue, and the air is somehow crisper, fresher than Bro has ever breathed before. People wander past, wearing the same medieval clothing and masks as Henrik and Dyaki. There is a rising smoke from a fire in the distance. And surrounding all this are massive white stones. ... No, not stones. Bones. This camp is surrounded by the skeleton of some massive creature.

Bro’s jaw drops as he sees the camp- breathes the crisp air. Okay… this might actually be real. As soon as he registers the camp is surrounded by bones- Bro can’t take it anymore. He has to see. He leaps into the air and flies above the camp to see the skeleton in full. Not even considering what he could have done would backfire on him or scare anyone. The adhd has taken hold and he’s definitely off his medicine by now with how many jumps they’ve done.

"CADE AAN SAOLILE?!" he hears someone shout from below, followed by various cries of panic and awe.

As he goes up, up, up, the skeleton comes into view. First, the reptilian head, topped with horns. Then the extending lines of wingbones confirm it. This is a creature that does not exist in his world. A dragon.

Bro feels his breath puff out of his mouth as it falls open in awe. “That’s… that’s a fucking dragon-“ He laughs breathlessly and pushes back his hair. “Holy fucking shit…! This is the craziest place yet! What the fuck!”

By now he’s registering the sounds of panic/awe below and he curses. “Ah fuck… right- Jesus okay-“ he quickly zooms back down and makes sure he finds where Dyaki and Henrik are. He at least has the decency to look embarrassed. “S-Sorry! I got curious!”

The two of them are staring at him in utter shock. "Aan... bhfuil tú... Sinse?" Dyaki asks slowly.

Henrik shakes his head. "Fiú tá a fhies ayam go bhfuil mísheart." He takes a step forward. "...Tshais? Aan tufuil Tshais?"

"Níl sé Tshais!" Dyaki shouts. "Tshais ní fédie lais eithil!" Oh. 'Tshais.' It's the name Chase but spoken with slightly softer sounds.

“Tshais-“ Bro starts trying to say and then brightens as he realizes. “Oh Chase! That’s me, yes! I’m Chase! Chase Brody!” He points to himself and nods eagerly. As if he just forgotten that he just blew these guys’ minds.

This does not help with the blown minds. If anything, it looks like Dyaki's brain is melting. He takes a deep breath, turns to the side... and shouts, "Foc! Foc foc foc foc foc!" The meaning of that seems pretty clear.

Bro points at Jackie having a meltdown, “…well I know that word for sure-“

Henrik laughs.

He then looks at Bro thoughtfully. "Tshais mak Brodi." And he nods. "Credine thú. Ash cén... tshai?"

Bro blinks at Henrik attempting to talk to him and just politely nods.

Dyaki rejoins the other two. "Aan bhfuil a fies cá bhfuil Maerfin?" he asks Henrik.

"Aran mbhea lach." Henrik starts walking through the camp. Dyaki follows, and gestures for Bro to follow to.

Once Bro’s led to follow he does. “Man… this is really really weird…”

The three of them head through camp, the other people parting around them, not even bothering to disguise their stares.

Bro waves at some of the people before he thinks better of it and just follows behind Dyaki and Henrik.

-----------

Alt appears in a forest. It's a very lovely forest, the trees taller, wider, and bigger than he's ever seen before. The branches above are thick, and the only reason there's sunlight is because it's autumn and the vibrant leaves are thinning. Bushes and other undergrowth practically hide the forest floor beneath him. He barely has the chance to notice all this when--

Something goes whizzing right by him. If he turns around, he sees an arrow embedded in a tree, shaft and fletching vibrating.

Alt breathes for a second, confused by the air and trees when- He yelps in surprise and glitches away.

He then glitches back and pulls it out of the tree with wide confused eyes. “…a fucking arrow?? Who shot an arrow at me?!”

The forest is quiet except for the rustling of leaves. And then there is a louder rustling coming from a bush on the opposite direction of the arrow. And then there is a thunk, the sound of someone falling, and a hissed voice that says, "Dyamison!" Whatever that means.

Alt crouches down into a defensive stance, building up electricity in his hand. He carefully walks forward and then tries to glitch to where he heard the sound- hoping to get the upper hand.

The glitch is successful. He pushes aside a bush to see--a rabbit? No, it's someone wearing a rabbit mask, staring up with him with wide eyes...eyes that immediately shoot to the lingering glitch effects around him.

"Dyamison!" Suddenly another bush gets pushed aside and a man stands up, wearing a hat, a deer mask--and armed with a bow and a quiver by his side. His eyes also shoot to the lingering glitches.

"Tá brón yom, tá brón yom!" The man says, raising his hands. "Shílmé fur fiana thú, mé mionn é! Rinne mé! Dhírash--dhírash a fhákáil leis éin!" He sounds... panicked.

Alt backs up with his hands up and feels himself panicking too. “W-woah hey! You’re- you’re speaking a whole other language what the fuck…”

Strangely enough, Alt's panic seems to calm the man down slightly. He lowers his own hands, now simply wary instead of afraid. "Tá brón yom, níl a fhies aya cadatá thú ag rá."

The man in the rabbit mask stands up and steps backwards, almost tripping over some hidden roots. He looks at the other and raises his hands and--that's a sign language of some kind, definitely. But Alt doesn't recognize it.

"Cadatá igh seis aya?" The first man asks.

More sign language.

"Cén fáth nachrai tú dhírash taréis sin a rá?" The man sounds exasperated. He looks at Alt, and gives an awkward little bow. "Aan duine de FhaoNaigh thú?" he asks slowly, as if the speed was the issue and not the whole other language.

Alt looks between the two with widening eyes.

This- this was insane. God- didn’t Blaise give him a translation spell? …oh oh yes! Okay he knows this- he’s used it on Henny when he’s been really sick!

He breathes and closes his eyes. He places a hand on his temple, “thuiscint” then he places a hand on his throat, “labhairt nua.” When he’s done he opens his eyes back up and they’re glowing blue green. But- he should be able to understand them now…? Hopefully.

“Ah sorry… I didn’t understand before, could you say that again?”

Both of the men look impressed--but honestly, not as impressed as most everyday people would be when seeing magic.

"Are duine of FhaoNaigh you?" the man in the deer mask says. That makes no sense. The spell is struggling with this language. But thankfully, the man realizes something is up. "Om... say I aríse. Are being of FhaoNaigh you? Are you one of the FhaoNaigh?"

Alt knits his eyebrows together. Huh- this must be a tricky language… could it be old? Judging by these guys outfits and the fact that they tried to shoot him with a bow is very much convincing him of that.

“One of the… FhaoNaigh? Uhhh who are those?” Alt asks delicately.

"You don't know who the Fair Folk are?" the man in the deer mask says, sounding shocked. "Well, I guess that shows that you're not one of them. Where are you from, then? Why are you..." He pauses, searching for the words. "...made of... harsh light? And smell like... lightning?"

The man in the rabbit mask rolls his eyes and signs something.

"You describe it, then, Jameson!" the first man says, annoyed.

Alt’s eyebrows rise. Jameson. Okay that,.. that explains the sign. God he wished he could understand that too… feels rude to not know his side of things.

“Fair Folk… no can’t say I have… unless you’re talking about my complexion.” Alt tries to laugh. “I’m from- …really far away I’m guessing. A city called Brighton. And uh- I’m not… made of light- it’s just my magic. I can… hm- just sort of move around really fast. But with my whole body.” He glitches back and forth across the clearing before settling back in front of them. “We call it ‘glitching’ but if I’m right about this.. you wouldn’t know what that was.”

"Braiton?" The man in the deer mask shakes his head. "I've never heard of it. But I haven't traveled much. Jameson?"

Jameson shakes his head. He signs something else.

"Oh, Jameson thinks your magic is fascinating," the man in the deer mask says. "And I do too. You're right, I've never heard of... ghlishing." He pauses. "What are you doing out here, then? You appeared out of nowhere, i-it startled me. Sorry about the arrow, I thought you were a deer, I swear it."

Alt shakes his head, “it’s okay! I’m sure it was scary seeing someone appear out of nowhere. As for why I’m here… that’s a really long story I’m not sure you’d believe…”

Alt laughs, “And, uh, thanks. You guys are the ones who are fascinating to me… uh- where is this exactly?”

Strangely, the men hesitate when he asks where this is. "You're in the Dragon's Greatwoods," the man in the deer mask says slowly. "And you may as well tell us. I wouldn't believe that you showed up out of thin air if we hadn't seen it ourselves. Oh, I should introduce myself to you first. Call me Chase, son of Brody. And call him Jameson... Jameson, do you want me to...?" He waits for him to nod. "Okay. Jameson Jairsolas. What are you called?"

“Um…” Both of his names are out of place here. Guess it can’t be helped. “I’m Alt. Alt… Brody.”

He studies Chase closely. This is this world's version of his brother… he guesses he could see it? Weird to see Chase not in bright almost blinding colors.

“Okay well… I’m from- another world. One that’s like this one, but different. It’s Another world that is… probably in the future? If not just… something different entirely… not sure yet… but something feels distinctly more magical here…”

"Another world?" Chase repeats. "Oh. Okay. Nice to meet you, Alt Brody." He pauses. "That would explain the harsh light--the ghlishing. Strange to think of a world with less magic, though. You must be even more out of place at home. Sorry about that."

Alt blinks. Wow he accepted that a lot faster then he thought he would. Alt stuffs his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “It’s alright. I got my brother- he’s …magic too. Somewhat.”

Jameson signs something.

"Really?"

He repeats it insistently.

"...Fine, I guess." Chase sighs. "Jameson wants to take you back to our camp. He insists that nothing bad will happen, which--I suppose I'm more inclined to believe coming from him, but I'm still not entirely sure." Another pause. "If you're from another world, why did you come here?"

Alt tilts his head at this and then nods, “your camp… yeah that’s probably a good idea.” The glitch laughs at Chase’s last question. “We can’t really… control it at this point I guess. We’re trying to get home but… we keep picking the wrong places. We’re uh- kinda hunting down a dangerous person too.”

“Hmm.” Chase hums. “Well maybe we could help with that search. We’re very prepared to… protect people from dangerous people. I could’ve said that better, but you get what I mean.” He looks at Jameson. “If this turns out to be a bad idea you’re taking the blame.”

Jameson nods, as if he expected that.

“Alright, Alt Brody, follow us.” Chase turns and starts heading through the trees. “Anything else we should know before we get there? Like about your brother? Where is he, if not with you?”

"Hopefully close by," Alt mutters, "If not just- if you see someone is a stupidly bright orange jacket, it's probably him. ... oh or if you see anyone in the sky." He walks after them, afraid of scaring them more with his glitches. Even if it pains him.

Chase momentarily stops walking. "...In the sky? Does he have wings?"

Alt laughs, "Uh- no. That would be sick, though. His powers means he can fly. Amongst other things. And... knowing Chase- he's gonna be zipping around without much thought."

"That must be strong magic," Chase whispers. He's so in awe that he almost misses Alt mentioning his brother's name. "Wait... oh! So your brother is also called Chase. Good to know, that'll be helpful if the flying and bright orange isn't. There aren't many people named that in Glasúil. That's... where you are by the way. I'm not sure if you'd know that."

"Oh- huh, that's weird. It's a common name where we're from." Alt comments. ".. Glasúil- ... I've never heard of that. So, i guess we're not in the past past... just- somewhere... fantasy, I guess?" he shakes this head muttering, "This is the weirdest place yet..."

"Fantisey? You mean like... a story?" Chase considers that. "I suppose if your world is different enough, this one would seem like a story." He laughs. "It gets stranger. Wait until we reach camp. Which won't take too long, don't worry. Only about ten minutes. Come on, we can hurry." He starts walking again, he and Jameson picking up the pace.

Alt laughs, “Yeah… this is one crazy story.” He tries to keep pace with the others, though he looks over his shoulder quite a bit. As if worried about what could be lurking in the shadows.

-----------

As expected, the string snap as soon as Magnificent leaves the last universe. He falls for a moment, then winds up on... a wooden surface, of some kind. Like a dock for boats. He hears voices. Though he can't recognize what they're saying, they sound alarmed. When he looks around he finds himself in some place very strange indeed. It's a town of some sort but... incredibly, the whole thing is floating on water. The buildings, the wooden street, the poles that hold lanterns. But if he looks in the distance, he can see stone buildings. They must not be too far from land.

This is the most crowded landing yet. People are staring at him, all wide-eyed shock. He popped out of nowhere in the middle of a street and now there are about... twenty, thirty people staring at him--though they aren't too keen to get close, so he has a wide circle of space around himself.

Magnificent is enraged as he lands, pushing himself up with anger and looking around to see where that annoying hero and his disobedient cub are. But he pauses as he realizes he’s surrounded. He backs up, eyes wide as he takes in the look of the people. …why do they look old-timey? And not even… Henrik old-timey… these people look medieval. And so does the buildings around him on this strange floating dock,

“What the fuck-“ he whispers. He then glares and disappears from in front of them and slinks into nearby shadow.

The crowd gasps and cries out in surprise as Magnificent disappears. They look around, as if expecting him to be nearby, but of course, he is not.

Mag should probably stay out of sight until he can glean where this is… maybe he should disguise himself to fit in. Though… it could be fun to show off his magic and let these simpletons heed him as a god. Hm… maybe later. Right now, he needs more information…

Magnificent has found himself in a vast city, all clearly medieval in setting and yet impossibly incredible. The city starts on an island, where there are narrow buildings and winding streets and fenced-off gardens, all surrounding an enormous walled castle. But the city expands beyond the island as well, floating out onto the lake that surrounds it. This is where the maze of wooden walkways and houses come in. You would think that houses floating on a lake would be dangerous, but everything is remarkably sturdy. And there is something... something in the air.

"Goddess Almighty..." Magnificent breathes out in wonder. When he was human- this kind of place would have been his fantasy. And... maybe it is, still. A fantasy... so fantastical in how its structured. And even more so- he can sense something in the air. Magic? By now, he's yearning for anything. The power of the last world wasn't nearly enough...

Yes, it is indeed magic. And there is so… so… much of it. When he reaches out to detect it, it’s as if everything gives off a faint glow. In fact, he can feel this magic already sustaining him, slowly, like rain dripping into a bucket. But when he tries to reach out to take more or make it go faster, he can’t. This film of magic feels strangely distant. It will not give him more than he can hold naturally, and he cannot make it go faster.

Magnificent feels magic already in his veins and its incredible. Oh he likes this very much... but as always- he needed more.

But if he seeks magic to take, he can find it easily. There are so many magicians here. Granted, many of them have weak signatures, but in this city of thousands there are a smattering of powerhouses. The strongest of which is located in the castle in the center of the city.

Weak signatures cloud his vision but he can feel the strongest near... oh- a castle. Perfect... The dark magician grins to himself and then shifts into his cat form, slithering across the shadows to make his way towards the castle.

There is, of course, a wall around the castle, and there are, of course, guards patrolling it. But the gaps in the main portcullis are wide enough that a cat, liquid as they are, can slip through easily. And once inside the castle grounds nobody pays attention to a cat. Strays are not uncommon here. The castle is a collection of buildings, but the magic signature is within the main palace. The doors and windows are closed, but that won’t be a problem, will it? Even if Magnificent was an ordinary cat, he would simply need to wait for an opportunity.

Magnificent takes his time to study the people and this place as best as he can. When he reaches the windows he plops himself down in a place to wait... he can't draw too much attention just yet. It was already well guarded here. He can't afford to get caught. So he waits... he can be patient.

It's not long before a woman with a broom comes walking down the hallway inside, sweeping dirt into the corners. Not bothering with a dustpan. Magnificent has seen many people wearinggreen tunics like hers, it must be a uniform. She notices the cat sitting outside and her eyes light up. Discreetly, she glances to either side and then hurries over and slides the window open. It's a good thing he chose this spot, not all the windows will slide like that.

"Nash bhfuil tú gleoti?" she coos. "Teash tar, teash tar." It's a language Magnificent doesn't recognize, sounding like bastardized Irish, but judging by her tone she wants him to get close. Probably for petting.

Magnificent is quick to jump on the windowsill, letting himself be pet. But, as the woman makes contact, he floods his power into her. Attempting to decipher and learn the language while searching through her mind. And make it malleable to him as well- Could be useful...

The woman gasps. Her mind is surprisingly weak already, like a piece of cloth worn thin. She does not even try to fight against him. Deciphering the language is tricky, since it's not one Magnificent is familiar with, but he gets there eventually. And learns some about this new world.

This city is Suilthair, the capital of the island kingdom Glasúil. Glasúil is ruled by "aan Rith"--the Royal, the King. This woman is convinced the King is a good man, a kind and just ruler. But Magnificent knows the signs of manipulation when he sees them.

Magnificent shakes himself out as the information comes flooding. Ah- interesting. His eyes glow as he looks at the woman and he asks in her head. {Fair Maiden, can you direct me to where the Royal is?}

The woman smiles faintly, flattered at being called fair. She says something that Magnificent understands to mean, “He’s in the Great Hall at this time of day. Follow me.” And she stands up straight and starts down the wide hallways.

He chuckles and follows right after her. He makes sure to study the castle as the walk- this almost feels too easy. Not that he's complaining...

The palace corridors are wide and grand, but feel somewhat empty and dark, even with the many windows. The woman leads him down hall after hall until they reach a set of grand wooden doors. There are two guards on either side, but one of the doors is propped open so that kind of defeats the purpose of them, really.

"Through there," the woman says. "I'm not allowed in."

Magnificent giggles and in a quick burst of static he returns to his proper form. He pats her shoulder and strides forward, grinning wide. "Thank you, my dear. Now- run along~, I have business to attend to."

The two guards cry out when Magnificent shifts form, grabbing their pole arms while the woman calmly walks away.

Mag meets the guards' eyes and cocks his head at them, sending out a mental blast of obedience. "Excuse me gentlemen~ Let me through."

He attacks, and at once—maybe even faster than normal—the guards relax. They lower their weapons and step aside, letting Mag access the open doorway.

Magnificent chuckles and dramatically flares his cape to walk by and into the room. "Much obliged!"

The Royal... must be the most powerful person in this realm. And if all these fools kept falling so easily... either the king would be easy prey. Or... a worthy opponent. Either option had the mad magician excited.

This was going to be so much fun~

The Great Hall is indeed great, a wide open space with a peaked roof above and old tapestries hanging on the walls. There is also a fireplace with a roaring fire on the other end of the room, but its warmth doesn't reach the door. A long wooden table takes up most of the space. There's room for many people to sit but there is only one. A man sitting at the head of the table by the fireplace, drinking from a goblet and staring at one of the tapestries thoughtfully. He wears a green cape, a golden circlet sitting on his brown hair. From this distance, he almost looks like Alt. But then he looks at Magnificent and he sees that his eyes are an unnatural emerald green color.

"You wasted no time," he says, putting the goblet down and standing up.

Magnificent can't help but smirk. Clever already... and so much like his cub. "Ah, you expected me, then?"

“I felt a stranger coming ever since you entered the castle grounds.” The King clasps his hands behind him. “I’ve never seen such strange garb. A mask, but you’re not one of those rebels. Where are you from?”

"mmm incredible reach~!" Magnificent's blood is roaring in his ears, hungry for the power just a few feet from him. He laughs a bit madly and repeats the king's gesture, but tilts his head like a curious cat. "From a world beyond your comprehension~ I'm merely... visiting. Trying to see what a world like this has to offer~"

“And you think you can take my power?” The King chuckles. “You can try. Perhaps this world will have things beyond your comprehension. Magic may exist on your Earth, but do you think the magic here will be so easily taken and converted to yours? You already had trouble in the last world, I see.”

Magnificent's confidence wavers and he stumbles back just slightly. He's- unnerved. He didn't even feel a presence inside his head at all. His eyes darken and spark with power as he growls. "How the fuck did you do that?"

The King grins. “Already surprised? You may not last long here, Marvin. Strange, I knew a man with close to that name once. He escaped his fate.”

Oh- now he's done it. Magnificent roars in anger and lashes out to attack the King with his claws.

The King reacts swiftly. Mag didn’t even notice the sheathe by his side. In the second before Mag reaches him he pulls out a large knife, and Magnificent’s claws glance off the coppery metal.

“Rashness will get you killed, magician,” the King says, spinning the large knife. Lightning traces the blade.

Magnificent's eyes glow with rage and he summons green fire in his hands, "How did you get in my mind?! I didn't even detect you! What are you?!" He spits.

“I am what you seek to become.” The King smiles. “And there can only be one of us in this world. I’ll offer you mercy. You have three days to leave this world.” He raises the blade, not pointing it at Magnificent, instead tracing an outline around him. Ozone fills the air. “If you don’t, I will kill you. If you cause too much trouble, this offer is forfeit and I will kill you. Do you understand?”

"Don't patronize me!" Magnificent shrieks, "I won't stoop so low to take pity from the likes of you!" He teleports to be right in front of the King and tries to grab him by his cloak.

But as Magnificent teleports in front of him, he feels a sharp pain in his gut and hears a hissing sound. That electrified blade went right into his stomach. And the King doesn't so much as flinch.

Magnificent cries out and then moves to try to shove himself away from the blade- but the shocks have his muscles trying to spasm.

"This is not condensation, Marvin," the King says. "Nor is it pity. It's a shame to end a life so ambitious. But your anger will leave me no choice." He smiles drily. "Learn to abandon it."

The mad magician grits his teeth in rage. "You're underestimating me too quickly, Your majesty." He spits the title out like its poison.

A spiral of green and purple magic blooms behind the magician, trying to ensnare the king's senses.

The King glances at it, and... and for a moment, it feels like Mag has control. His eyes even glaze over. But he doesn't respond to commands like he should.

"You are very powerful," the King says, tilting his head like he's admiring the spirals the way someone would a work of art. "But I think you're misunderstanding this situation. This sort of trick won't work." He grabs Magnificent by the shoulders and spins him around. When he traced an outline around him earlier, when the air had smelled of ozone, a doorway had opened up in the middle of the air, edges lined with snapping green power. On the other side is somewhere lined with trees. "See if you can make your way back here to try again," the King says, and pushes Mag forward.

Magnificent gasps as he's grabbed and tries to spin around to reach for the king as he's pushed through the doorway, spitting curses. "NO!"

The King is not expecting to be grabbed--in his experience, people are usually pretty weak after being stabbed with lightning. He cries out, surprised, and the two of them tumble forward through the doorway, which abruptly disappears.

"Ageless fucking Elders!" The King curses, scrambling to his feet. He spins around, clenching his fists in frustration, then forces himself to take some deep breaths. They're now outside of the city in a completely different location. A copse of autumn trees, surrounded by fields for as far as the eye can see.

"Congratulations, Marvin, you've managed to change my mind," the King mutters. "You get to live so it'll be easier to get back to somewhere with people instead of the middle of thrice-damned nowhere."

Magnificent spits dirt out of his mouth and pushes himself up, gripping at his wound. "Oh how generous of you, your kinglyness" He spits. He looks around the landscape and bares his teeth in a snarl. "... also stop calling me that, before I claw your innards out and frame it on a wolf."

"Very creative," the King mutters. "Fine, Magnificent. You are aware you're not bleeding, right? You know what sealing a wound is, right? Unfortunately I didn't think to bring medical supplies or health potions so you'll have to live with that."

Magnificent blinks and looks down at his hand, revealing that there is, in fact, no blood. He scowls and rubs at the area and mutters, "... still hurts like a bitch." He shakes himself off, much like a cat would and observes the woods. ...what can they do now? He hasn't felt any presence of his cub or his idiot brother...

"Right, those two who have been hunting you through your travels," the King says, picking up on Magnificent wondering about those two. "I suppose if they have the talisman that lets you travel you would've needed to find them. Hmm... and if they could be anywhere in the kingdom, you might not have found them within three days. My limit was perhaps a bit unfair."

Magnificent jumps at the king just casually saying his thoughts out loud. "Jesus christ! Can you like- not?? For a second?" He hisses, bristling like a startled cat.

The King looks at him, confused. “Jesus…? Oh, one of your world’s gods, I see.”

"what? oh yeah- uh... right. I suppose he is." Mag makes a face at this.

The King pauses. “I suppose if we are forced to work together for a time I could offer you that trust.” He is clearly reluctant. “I’ll swear on my family line to not hear your thoughts until we find our way out of the wild. Happy?”

Mag studies the king's expression and then sighs and slowly nods. "Alright. And I'll try not to do the same. I have... no idea how to navigate this so... I guess a truce is in order."

The King nods slowly. "A truce." He looks around and starts carefully walking deeper into the trees, away from the fields. "It's been a while since I walked in the wilds. Especially so unprepared. We'll have to use our magics to their fullest. The first order of business is food and water. I see no water, and only small animals will run across the fields. We must look elsewhere."

Magnificent makes a face, "Fuck... i haven't gone camping in the woods since I was a boy..." He mutters. "Jackie always loved this shit- fucking- god." He nods to the king and realizes his appearance will probably scare off anything coming towards them. He grunts and then changes his appearance to fit in. Getting rid of his mask and letting his hair get long and brown and curled up in a bun. His shirt changes to a billowy sleeved tunic with dark green patches and a small capelet over his shoulder. His classy dress shoes turn to hunting boots. It feels... strange. But at least they can keep a lower profile now. After much thought he puts back on his mask though. He needs to be able to... somewhat see. Or see the magic around them. Maybe he can sense some life around here... ugh. Hunting. All this is leaving a bad taste in his mouth, reminding him of days he long since wanted to forget.

The King watches as Magnificent uses magic to change his appearance. He raises an eyebrow. "Clever," he says quietly. "May I suggest the addition of some piece of jewelry? Wizards here need a focus to channel their magic, and as you are clearly magical, it would look strange to see you without one."

"Ah would I be considered a wizard here then?" Magnificent mused, "My father always called us sorcerers."

After a moment of thought, the King also reluctantly removes the circlet from his head, stringing it along his belt. "Be discreet about it, though, too much shine will attract magpies."

Mag shrugs and tries to think of an easy focus. He looks around then finds a rock on the ground, perfectly round. He pumps it full of black magic and its shape shifts into one of a simple gold focus with a black opal in the center, though it seems cracked with various colors underneath. He smirks and puts the trinket on, letting it dangle around his neck. "I'm fairly interested in how our magic systems may differ-" He pauses and then briefly glances at the King. "Though... you know my name, but I only know your title. What exactly should I call you? or do you prefer to only be referred to in royal terms."

The King grins, looking almost mischievous. "Aodhan will work, if you must. Though it is not... hmm... common to use a monarch's first name here.”

"Well, where I'm from the monarchy is nothing more than a figure head that distracts the populace with its extravagance." Magnificent replies with clear distain. "So, Aodhan will do fine until we're around others I suppose. I'm not referring to you by title if I can help it. Though... I guess you can refer to me as... that name- if you must... or the simpletons who stalk me call me ‘Mag’. That could work too."

“As for the matter of magic, yes, wizard would be the closest thing you are, though what you just did with that rock would be more akin to sorcery, which is the manipulation of the natural world. Wizardry is other flashy magic, such as summoning things or shapeshifting... but enchantment is the magic of the mind. Out of all the options, wizardy would best explain the variety of power you have." The King continues.

Mag chuckles at the explanation of magic and shakes his head. "So limiting... the divisions here. How quaint."

"Hmm... it is quite frustrating, isn't it?" the King agrees. "I know others who would say the division is the price to pay for the abundance of power in the land. But... well, it's as you said, rather limiting, isn't it? Luckily, we don't have to abide by those limits." He smiles darkly. "We have some walking to do yet. I hope you're prepared."

Magnificent chuckles and shares that dark smile with the King. "As I'll ever be."

[soulofapatrick]

Bleeding Hearts - Jasper Hale x Reader

Summary: Jasper finds you on the floor crying and bleeding and patches you up which leads to feelings being admitted

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: blood; cut otherwise fluff and a little angst

Notes: DW I’m still gonna be writing TLOU stories too

Y/N’s POV

I didn’t wanna go back to mine, the place feeling to cramped and closed off which I know would add to all the pent up frustration I’m currently feeling. It’s why I’ve ended up at the Cullen’s house, needing to be somewhere no one will judge me and hey maybe Jasper can use if freaky emotional control on me so I can stop feeling like I want to slam someones head into a table or scream. This week has been non-stop and I just need a fucking break, shoulders tense and heart racing as I let myself in, knowing they’ve got the fridge stocked for me to help myself to anything I want. 

I drop my rucksack with a hard thump, kicking my shoes off and throwing my jacket in the general direction of my bag before heading towards the fridge. I’m moving around the kitchen island too quickly as I feel my elbow connect with the  beautiful glass jar there and just watch it go crashing to the ground, realising a few expletives, “Ahhh! Fucking shitting fuck!” 

The sound of shattering glass grates against my ears as my frustration is turning into overstimulation, the frustration reaching a breaking point that I can’t deal with it anymore. The tears are welling up in my eyes as I sink to my knees to clean up the mess before any of the Cullens get home and see me in this state. It’s like I’m fighting a losing battle and everything is just falling apart around me, the frustration is just so overwhelming and I’m struggling to stop the tears as they stream down my cheeks rather embarrassingly. The Cullens don’t like to leave me home alone after what happened to Bella and Laurent when Bella was human. 

“Y/N?” My head flies up at the sound of a familiar southern drawl to see Jasper standing in the doorway. His usually golden eyes are a bright, almost glowing shade of red and his gaze is intense as they focus on my hands while his jaw pops audibly as if he’s trying to restrain himself. My hands are bleeding, the pain only registering with me as I see the fresh blood dripping down my palms and onto the floors, adding to the mess I’ve made with the jar. The frustration turns into hopelessness as I can’t even clean up without causing more problems, the world conspiring against me and hey, maybe Jasper could lose control and kill me. It’d be the least of my problems at the moment, “Leave the glass, I’ll clear it up. Let’s get you bandaged up.”

The honey blond vampire is swallowing thickly, as if swallowing his urge to give into the bloodlust, before he’s approaching me. He crosses the room in a few quick, human paced, steps to lean down and help me to my feet with his icy hand on my forearm. He’s leading me upstairs and down the very familiar hallway, past my room to the room at the end which is his. I don’t think I’ve actually been in his room in the year I’ve been friends with the Cullens. 

The walls are a soft grey colour, making me think back to him and Emmett running upstairs one day with cans of grey paint a few months into me knowing them all, and there’s a few painting on the walls. There’s photos around the room from different centuries he’s lived through. If I was in a better mood I think I would have laughed at it and teased him as it’s such an odd sense of humour and I like it. He also has a bed which surprises me as they’ve vampires, they don’t sleep. It’s large and comfortable with high quality linens and pillows, a cozy blanket draped at the foot of the bed and a few fuzzy pillows. He’s pushing me onto the bed, making me sit on the edge while he disappears to do whatever, I don’t mind as it gives me time to really take in every detail of his room. 

There’s a vintage dresser, looking like it has been carefully maintained and it just makes me think about how weird it must be to watch the world you were born into develop and change while you… you stay the same. It must be so scary and lonely, watching everything you knew change with only you knowing what it once was. 

Jasper’s returning, med kit in hand and I can feel my heart rate embarrassingly begin to race at the sight of him and I know he hears it as he’s got a small smile on his lips. He doesn’t say a word though, sitting next to me and raising an eyebrow as if to tell me to hold my hands out. I do just that, marvelling at how gentle and careful his touch is. His hands are cold and smooth against mine, the contract between us noticeable and somewhat soothing. 

Despite the stinging pain of the cuts the sensations of his touch is almost comforting and if find myself relaxing under his care. I can feel his fingers brushing against mine and there’s an undertone to intimacy in the way he tends to me. His touch almost hypnotic that I get lost in it, the tension almost palpable and I know he definitely feels it as he’s able to read emotions. I should be embarrassed about Jasper always being able to know exactly how I feel but right now I couldn’t care less because even without vampire abilities I can tell it’s reciprocated and the moment is a gentle one, just between us. 

He’s breaking the tension, southern drawl filled with heat and concern, “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s got you all worked up?” His eyes are fixed on mine, the red having disappeared so they’re that breathtaking golden colour again, like the colour of a sunset on a hot day. The concern in his tone is genuine and I think my heart jumps into my throat when he leans closer to me. 

“I-I really don’t know.” I reply softly, feeling stupid that I got so worked up over something that I don’t even know what it was. He’s leaning even closer, icy hands sliding up my shoulders around my shoulders as he pulls me into a hug that draws a sound of surprise from me. His embrace is warm and full of comfort despite how naturally icy cold his body is as it’s pressed to mine. The scent of the vanilla shampoo he uses on his wavy blond hair and the rich and musky scent that is just Jasper, makes me almost dizzy. 

Being so close to a vampire like this I feel completely safe and secure. His nose is buried in the crook of my neck and his cool breath against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Vampires have no need to breath but it just seems a force of habit for the Cullens as they’ve integrated themselves into mortal society. I know how hard this must be for him, controlling his bloodlust being so close to my jugular but I don’t feel scared in any way. The moment feels intimate and special, feeling an embarrassing surge of romantic attraction towards him as I want to stay in his arms forever. 

The small smile I feel against my neck lets me know he can sense my emotions and a gasp is ripped from my throat when those cold lips press to my neck before he’s pulling back. Those golden eyes have darkened a little, full of unmistakable desire and passion. My heart is trying to break through my ribcage when he moves his hands to my cheeks, pulling me forwards until those same lips are soft against mine. I’m caught off guard as I never though Jasper would actually make a move, given his reputation for not being able to control his lust of human blood yet, making the kiss somewhat overwhelming. 

The kiss is oh so gentle and calculated as if he’s holding back so he doesn’t hurt me, thumbs stroking my cheeks softly as my own fly to his chest, feeling the coolness of his skin and the hard muscles beneath his shirt. My whole body feels electrified, tingling with anticipation and a satisfaction that I’ve not felt kissing other boys. His lips are surprisingly soft and cool against mine, mouth opening slightly so he can slide his tongue over my bottom lip. I’m parting them for him, our tongues meeting and the passion intensifying in a flood of warmth and I’m sure if Jasper knows he’s using his powers or not as we lose ourselves in the moment. 

Hands move from my cheeks, one to grip my waist almost painfully and the other tangling in my hair as he tilts my head back to deepen the kiss even more. I’m pressing against his chest lightly and he loosens his grip on my hair so I pull back enough to gasp for air and he’s chuckles low and rich, southern drawl strong and going straight between my legs, “Sorry doll, I forgot you need to breathe.” 

“Jasper.” His name slips from my lips in a whine and his eyes darken even more, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He’s yanking me forwards again, lips crushing against mine and I’m melting into his embrace as I can feel how careful he’s being with me despite how much sexual tension and want there is between us. He’s shifting his body over me, the hands in my hair and on my back are laying me down. 

My body feels so alive with the comfortable weight of him above me as he moves his lips down my neck and sucking gentle hickeys into the skin. His lips trailing down my neck is a new sensation that has my hips raising and searching for some form of friction, drawing a low sound from him. It’s amazing, being able to finally express all these feelings I’ve had kept hidden for so long, letting his feel the love and want for him. My fingers running through his surprisingly soft hair, pulling him closer to me, wanting Jasper to be the only thing on my mind. 

Suddenly, a low sound escapes my lips and Jasper’s replying with a small laugh as his hand in my hair moves to cover my mouth as he whispers, “They’re back darlin’.” 

“Jazz,” I can’t stop the whine as he breaks away from me, letting me catch my breath and regain my composure before we go down and greet the rest of the Cullens. I feel so empty and longing and I don’t care if everyone hears with their vampire hearing when I grip the front of Jasper’s shirt and yank. It catches him off guard, a surprised sound rumbling in his throat as he tumbles on top of me again, arms catching himself before he hurts me, “Jazz.” 

“I know sweet girl, I know,” He coos softly, fingers brushing the stray strands away from my face, his gaze so loving it steals the air from my lungs and I’m flushing hot, “Come on, we gotta go talk to them.” 

“They can hear us.” I protest quietly and he’s chuckling fondly again, head falling to my shoulder. 

“There is glass and blood on the floor.” Jasper reminds me and I groan in protest but let him move away, watching him as he’s now standing beside the bed. His tall and lean figure towering over me and I should be scared but all I feel content. He runs a hand through his tousled blond hair, causing it to fall into a charmingly disheveled way across his forehead. His golden eyes are filled with tenderness and concern as he gazes down at me, taking in my flushed and flustered appearance, chiseled jaw set in a determined expression, as if he's ready to protect me from anything that might cause me harm. Despite his vampire nature, there is an undeniable warmth and humanity in his features that make you feel safe and loved.

He reaches down and helps me to my feet, placing a soft kiss to my forehead before holding my face in his hands and looking me in the eyes promising me he will always look out for me no matter what. A sense of comfort washes over me as he wraps me in a strong embrace that has me knows he means every single word and no matter what any of his family says he will always stay by my side. 

[ellephlox]

Obstinacy

Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!

A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK

You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly. 

Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days! 

Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit. 

“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”

“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”

Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.

It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice. 

“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted. 

“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”

“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”

“What about the pumpkins?”

“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”

You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”

“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”

“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”

He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”

“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”

“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background. 

You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”

“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”

“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”

“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said. 

“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”

“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice. 

He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left. 

You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants. 

Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point. 

Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon. 

The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward. 

Barefooted. 

Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass. 

When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow. 

The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet. 

Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail. 

“Hello?” you croaked. 

“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”

“I... what?”

“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.

“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”

“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”

“Not until ten.”

Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open. 

Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point. 

You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.

“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick. 

There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”

“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”

The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”

“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.” 

“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”

"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”

“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”

“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.

“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”

“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.  

“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying. 

“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”

“Why do I smell your blood?”

You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”

“Y/N.”

“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”

“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”

“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air. 

After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”. 

Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.  

It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there. 

“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth. 

And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more. 

You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye. 

Blood. In the mucus. 

That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears. 

You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you. 

“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately. 

“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”

“What? What is it?” 

“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”

“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own. 

Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”

“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.

“I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“But—”

“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”

Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath. 

“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants. 

“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”

“This?”

“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”

And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving. 

That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text. 

“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him. 

Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s. 

He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”

He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”

"Aspiration pneumonia.”

“Hm?”

“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”

You meditated on this. “So?”

“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.

Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you get in?”

“Broke down the door, like I promised.”

“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”

He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”

“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.

“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”

You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”

“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”

“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”

Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”

“Oh, no. What?”

“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”

“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”

“A nursing home problem?”

“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”

“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”

He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”

“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”

“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”

Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”

“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Like a Hostage

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

⇢ warning: explicit language, mentions of rape, physical abuse, emotional abuse, drug use, alcohol use, and suicide. ⇢ w.c: 4.5k

Spending the rainy Friday at home, Jungkook browsed through the list of recently added movies on Netflix before clicking the one with the most viewer votes. And, as you rested your legs on his lap, the two of you shared a warm glance once his hands naturally began massaging your toes, careful with the bruise on your ankle. One that you comedically earned from your skiing accident, where you overestimated your skills or better the lack of them and dared to race your athlete-build boyfriend. Needless to say, despite giving you a headstart, you found yourself dumbfounded in his embrace after an innocent rabbit scare led to your crash into a nearby snow pile. 

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, palm gently hovering over the purple hues. 

“Not really. I’ve been using that cream you gave me,” you replied with a soft smile, drawing circles on his tattooed forearm. 

“Next time, let's verse in something that won’t leave you in a cast, mmhh?” Jungkook teased, placing a gentle peck on your hand before intertwining his fingers with yours. 

Diverting your attention back to the screen, your sleepy gaze suddenly widened as the camera panned closer to the female lead's naked body during a steamy shower scene. Flinching at the visuals you stare at the ceiling, awkwardly fumbling with the rings on your fingers before Jungkook notices your tension, quickly skipping over the intimate parts. 

“Y/n, is everything okay?” he asked quietly, glancing down at your flushed state. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Baby, what's on your mind? Tell me,” he leaned in closer, tucking a few stray hairs out of your face. 

“Nothing, it's stupid,” you managed to form somewhat of a reassuring smile before glancing back at his sly grin. 

See, you’ve always wanted to save yourself for marriage, and while the decision didn’t stem from religious beliefs or values it was significantly fueled by your desire to have control over your life. At least some parts of it. If it was up to you, in a perfect world where children were born into love, you wouldn’t be consumed by the dreadful shame of knowing that the bride’s side of the family would consist of only yourself. Since, once your parents left, so did the structure in your life as you tiptoed over the cracks in the weathering foundation, but now, the cards were in your hands. And, you were dedicated to the hope of blooming at your own pace and with the right person. However, to this day, somewhere deep in your subconscious, this tiny voice of doubt kept daunting your decision. Would it be fair for Jungkook if you starved him of your touch? How long would he be willing to withhold his lust until one day you were no longer worth it? 

“Oh, come on, don’t be shy. It’s natural. But, I guess now we know why this was the top pick. Horny bastards,” Jungkook chuckled, sneaking in a quick wink before resting his head on the couch. 

“Well, you must have thought about it, right?” your eyebrows furrowed, lifting your torso from the blanket cover. 

“About what?” 

“You know,” you murmured under your breath, feeling the flush in your cheeks. 

“Have I thought about sex with you?” Jungkook’s voice deepened, hooded gaze slowly observing every inch of your exposed body. 

“Shhh, why are you so loud?” you yelped, hushing his lips with your index finger until his hold on your hand tightened, and with one swoop you were exactly where he wanted. On his lap. Lips inches apart. 

“Y/n, I think about you all the time.” he grinned, tracing the bottom of your pouty lips as your breath hitched in your throat. “Not, in a freaky, call 911, stalker type of way, but…” he leaned in closer. 

“I think about the heart-shaped vein on your eyelid …” he whispered into a soft kiss on your lid. 

“I think about the moon tattoo behind your ear …” shivers went down your spine as his teeth gently grazed your skin, hands roaming under your tank top. 

“I think about the little mole on your ring finger, and the way your baby hairs curl up after you come out of the shower,” Jungkook's eyes searched your fluttering gaze, the back of his palm gently stroking your cheek as you unconsciously melt into his touch. 

“No, you know, that’s almost exactly what a stalker would notice,” you teased, tightening your hold on his hand as he tried to intertwine his fingers with yours. 

“Oh, sweetpea, if only you could read the thoughts in my head,” he sighed, resting his forehead on yours before pulling you closer onto his lap. “But, I need you more than I want you,” his words echoed in your ears, playing over and over again like a broken record. 

There’s a difference between a need and a want. You might want it to stop raining because the humidity has been frizzing up your hair, but you need water to survive. Like it or not, without it, you’d be dead in three days. Shrivelled up like a raisin in the sun. In the same way, although the sexual attraction between you and Jungkook was obvious to the naked eye, there was a fine line between your want and need for each other. He might not be the best at showing it, but behind all that ink and muscle, was a lost boy who’s spent his life running from his past, in search of something that would make him fight for the future. So, as far as he’s concerned, as long as you were breathing, his life served a purpose. One to protect, love, and care for you and the battle scars that were left behind. To him, you were the water that the human body feared losing. 

Eyes flickering down to your lips, Jungkook smiled into a teasing kiss as your hands rested on his chest, burning tension depriving you of oxygen. He was gentle, hooded gaze searching your eyes for hints of discomfort. But your orbs were dark, infused with the craving for his touch, the need to be close, skin to skin, as one singularity. 

“Koo?” you whispered, softly pulling on his silver chains. 

“Yes, y/n,” he grinned, biting down on his bottom lip.  

“Can I?” you asked with a hesitant plead, hands gently caressing the side of his neck. 

“I’m all yours, love,” he whispered in your ear, unbuttoning his black dress shirt before tracing your fingers down his sculpted chest. 

Admiring the lust in your boyfriend’s eyes, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as your lips left a trail of needy kisses on his burning skin. Sucking on his soft spots, hushed moans escaped his parted lips as his grip on your thighs tightened. And, with a slow pace, your bodies fell in sync, grinding against the tempting friction. 

“Y/n?” Jungkook whispered, gently lifting you off his lap before laying you down on the sofa. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Can I?” his veiny hands trailed up your waistline, hooded gaze glancing up at the mess he created. But, despite giving him a nod of reassurance, he knew better than to go against your better judgment. Valuing your boundaries, he never wanted you to feel rushed, consumed by regret or questions of his intentions. So, he asked again, broad shoulders hovering over your form as his chains dangled inches away from your lips. 

“I need to hear you, baby,” 

“Yes, yes you can, Koo,” you giggled, pulling him into a long kiss, as his body layed on top of yours. 

Pinning your hands against the headrest, his warm touch embraced every crevice of your heaving chest, tossing your bra on the floor. And, as you laid under him, your eyes linked, fueling a kick of adrenaline spreading through your system. It was a bit of everything, all at once. The nerves, the pleasure and the aftermath. 

But, for now, your mind was solely consumed by the effect of his soft lips as they marked your collarbone in paints of purple possession, forcing you to dig deeper into his back. Enjoying the pain, echoes of Jungkook’s groans filled the dim room, admiring the way your back arched from the sensation as the friction between your sensitive heat and the evident bulge in his jeans became harder to ignore. 

“Baby, we have to stop,” he said with a furrowed gaze, tilting his head back as you watched the sweat roll down his heaving chest. 

“Did I do something wrong?” you quietly asked, covering yourself with his shirt. 

“If you do one more thing right, I won’t be able to pay for my actions,” Jungkook hushed your nerves with a sly wink before cuddling into your warm embrace, taking in the smell of the cherry-scented perfume that you wore on your first date. 

To him, it was so bluntly obvious that it was never about your body, your eyes or your sweet smile that made him fall in love. It was the way you made him feel at ease. The way you calmed the turbulence of chaos in his mind with a single touch, a single whisper of reassurance. When you were by his side, the world seemed a little less shitty. 

But, if it were really that simple, the story would’ve already ended. No? Yet, here we are. Anticipating the worst, not knowing the half of the abuse. Please don’t forget that love is bittersweet and when two souls are tethered by the heartstrings of their past, the fear of old pain could foreshadow the end.

“Mom?” Jungkook’s voice echoed through the dark corridor as he slowly pushed the unlocked door of his parent’s house. 

“Mom? It’s me, where are you?” he called out again, furrowed gaze scanning the surroundings for hints of life. Until whispers of his mother’s voice muffled from the haunting gloom leading up to the second floor. Attempting to turn on the lights, sparks of electricity burst through the living room chandelier, forcing Jungkook to resort to the flashlight on his phone. Careful with his steps, the creaking sound of the old wood accompanied his way up to his mother’s room where she sat on the edge of the bed, back facing the door. 

“Mom?”

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” she asked quietly without even a glance, wiping the dried tear stains off her lifeless face. 

“I … I wanted to remind you that y/n and I will be leaving town for a week. I mentioned it over the phone but thought it would be best if I came in person as well,” he explained, worried gaze lowered to the bruises on her wrists. They looked fresh, like the abuse happened recently. And judging by the state of the room, the chances of it happening were high, as the floor remained witness to the littered bottles of antidepressants and liquor. 

“Mom, is everything alright? Did you and Dad fight again?” Jungkook asked, kneeling in front of his mother’s still form before she abruptly pulled her knees to her chest, scooching further away from his touch as her widened eyes stared back at his. 

“That stupid bitch. I never liked her, always hogged you like a slut.” she cried out in frustration, shaking her head in denial. “No, no, go ahead. Leave, for all I care. Let your father beat me to death but don’t come crying back when I’m finally gone.” the rage in her voice grew stronger with each word, bitting down the tears before her bloodshot eyes lowered again. 

She knew y/n was never the problem, but it was easier to be angry at people than to tell them that you’re hurting. So, that’s exactly what she learned to do, all she grew to know. She became angry at the world, at the guilty and the innocent. Leaving Jungkook as her weakness, the one person in her life that she wasn’t able to give up even if that meant losing herself to the abuse of her husband. But, the more time Jungkook spent with y/n, the less time he had to protect his mother. So, he became a buffer, neutralizing the flames that slowly burned down his family tree. However, in doing so, he developed a fear of commitment, unable to give someone his all when the desperate cries for help beating from his mother’s chest grew to consume him. 

“It’s me or her, son,” her voice trembled, hands reaching for his as Jungkook’s head rested on the edge of the bed. 

“But why? Why do I have to choose? Why can’t you let me have one thing for myself? Wasn’t Jieun’s death enough?” he cried out, choking on the tears that rolled down his face. 

“Don’t you dare bring up your sister,” 

“Why not? If it weren’t for your guys' constant fights she wouldn’t have jumped. Jieun-ie would still be here, with me,” Jungkook’s voice broke down, furrowed gaze hidden behind his trembling hands before he was brought back to that night. The night his world turned upside down. The night his little sister plumaged to her death, leaving behind a void in his heart that no one has been able to heal. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” his mother’s voice pierced through his dwelling, as her cold gaze glanced out the window with not one hint of remorse. 

“Then explain it to me,”

“I can’t. It’ll only make you hate you more,” 

“Try me,” Jungkook scoffed, resting his head on the window frame beside her. 

“She was raped. Your father raped Jieun … and when she tried to call the police … he threatened to shoot me. That night, when you went out to your friend’s house, two officers knocked on our door with suspicion of abuse. But, your father was a powerful man and a good liar at that, so, he demanded a warrant unless they wanted to settle everything in court. And, after they left we had a big fight, he wouldn’t stop, nothing could stop the rage in his eyes. I tried pleading with him, to let Jieun leave so she wouldn’t have to hear me scream because I was ashamed. But, he wouldn’t let that happen, he wanted to punish her for going against him. So, she heard everything and died because of the guilt.” his mother’s voice broke down into a whisper as she struggled to breathe, feeling the tightness in her throat. 

“Mom!” Jungkook pulled her behind him, as the door suddenly slammed open, revealing the daunting silhouette of his father. Who was, naturally, drunken out of his mind. The smell of alcohol travelling with his steps, as he inched closer to their still bodies. 

“Finally came back home, son?” he grinned, opening up his arms as a welcome back hug. 

“Don’t call me that.” Jungkook hissed, feeling his mother’s hands tighten their hold on his jacket as her panic kicked in. 

“What did she tell you?” the man growled, dropping the fake smile as his furrowed gaze pierced through her hideout. 

“Don’t you dare to come closer.” Jungkook threatened, slowly moving back before they hit a wall. 

“Or what?” his father sneered maniacally with a raised brow and a slight head tilt, plunging onto Jungkook with his fists in the air. Squeezing her eyes shut, the woman flinched behind her son’s broad shoulders as the sound of shattering glass suddenly echoed in her ear. Watching the blood run down his veiny hands, Jungkook pushed the glass deeper into his father’s chest, darkened orbs staring into his lifeless state. And, although he knew his father’s heart stopped beating, Jungkook wanted him to last longer, to feel the pain spread through his body until it was humanly unbearable. He wanted to abuse his power the way his father abused his mother. He wanted to get justice for Jieun.

Wrapping his tie around the cut on his hand, Jungkook pressed the button to your floor before resting his head on the elevator door. He didn’t know where else to go, or frankly, what else to do. There’s only so much that one could take in one night, yet, it felt like his whole life flashed by, unleashing a tide of old pain that evolved into new trauma. Maybe this was a bad idea, he thought to himself, zipping up his bomber jacket to cover up the blood stains on his shirt as the elevator door opened. Walking down the dimly lit corridor, his head felt heavy, vision slowly blurring out of focus until he heard your voice, furrowed gaze glancing up at a man in your doorway. 

“Anyways, thank you so … oh, Jungkook? What are you doing here?” you gasped, smile slowly fading after you noticed that his attention remained on your friend who awkwardly waved back at Jungkook’s burning glare. 

“Hate to interrupt,” Jungkoook hissed, tongue poking the side of his cheek as he bumped past the guy before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

“Koo?” you asked hushly, looking up at his welled-up eyes that flickered down to your lips as your hands rested on his chest.  

“Who was that, y/n?” he whispered breathlessly.

“That’s Mino, he’s my neighbour. My wifi started acting up, so I asked if he could help,” your words trailed off into silence, waiting for his reaction.

“Why didn’t you ask me?” 

“I called but you didn’t pick up, so I thought you were busy. I’m sorry …” your gaze slowly lowered, hands fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. 

“No, I’m sorry. I got caught up with some stuff,” Jungkook sighed, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand before pulling you into a hug, feeling the tension melt by your touch.

“Hey, what happened to your hand?” 

“Just a little cut, it doesn’t matter. Now, how about I take you for a little ride, mmhm?” he winked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as your fingers intertwined. 

Securing your helmet, Jungkook kissed the mole on your ring finger before pulling your hands around his waist. Starting up the engine, he glanced over his shoulder with a sly grin as you flinched, startled by the sound of his motorcycle. 

“Do you trust me, y/n?” 

“Hypothetically,” you laughed nervously, tightening your hold around his waist as he drove out of your apartment complex. The time was reaching midnight but the bright hues of Seoul’s nightlife kept the momentum going. Feeling the wind in your hair, chills ran down your spine as his speed increased. And, with each gear shift, faces in passing cars became harder and harder to make out. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you’re insane!” you screamed, helpless cries muffled by the pounding of his heart. He was insane. A murderer. Or was it self-defence? Nonetheless, it didn’t matter, because his life, the way he knew it, was already slipping through his fingers. Consumed by the darkness of his past. And you? Well, you were the last speck of brightness that kept him sane. So, he held onto the moment, keeping you close because it felt right. In hindsight, that’s all he ever wanted. You, were all he ever wanted. 

“Let’s go?” Jungkook said softly, hand reaching for yours as you walked down the bridge near the Han River. The same bridge where you first met. On the night that you thought would be your last. To this day, you could never figure out how he managed to be in the right place at the right time, seconds before your body sunk deep into the dark water. He saved you, but now, he’s the one who’s dying. 

“Koo?” you whispered, looking up at his pale face. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Thank you,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip to fight back the tears. 

“For what?” his worried gaze searched your fluttering eyes before stopping in his tracks. 

“For saving me,” you felt your breath hitch in your throat with each word. 

“Y/n …” Jungkook said, before tiny raindrops wet your skin. And, within seconds as the sudden lightning bolt struck the sky, it unleashed the wrath of a heavy pour. But, Jungkook didn’t seem to mind it, pulling you into his chest as his hold on your shivering body tightened. 

“Koo, it’s raining. We should go,” you whispered softly, burying your face into his jacket. But, he didn’t reply. Barely moved. 

“Koo?” you asked again before looking up. His eyes were closed, brows knitted with tension.

“Please, y/n … just a little longer, let me hold you for a little longer,” he breathed out, gently caressing your hair as tears rolled down his face. And, for a moment, it felt like time stopped. For a moment, all he could feel was the beating of your heart, a glimpse of a future he felt unworthy of. Deep down, he knew that your love for each other was fragile. As if he could foreshadow the end, the way your feelings would eventually succumb to the pain and exhaustion of trying to win against every shortcoming that’s been thrown at your shared path. 

So, as he laid you down onto the soft duvet of your bed, your glossy eyes sparkled under the moonlight. Reaching for his hand, you looked up at his hollow gaze. 

“Aren’t you going to lie down?” you asked. 

“I should go,” Jungkook replied, caressing your hand with his thumb before slowly letting it go. 

“Please don’t. I’m asking you,” you plead, lifting the duvet before clearing up his side of your bed. 

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?” your lips trembled, cuddling into his warm embrace as your hands intertwined. 

“Always,” he whispered, biting back the tears before placing a gentle kiss on your head. 

And, although he said exactly what you wanted to hear, you layed on his chest knowing that this time, something was different. His touch was cold, lifeless even. Something in him has switched and it killed you to wonder where it all went wrong. Like pieces of shattered glass, the two of you reflected each other's weaknesses, connected by the heartstrings of predisposed despair. 

Watching you sleep, Jungkook rested his head on yours, closing his eyes for a moment until his phone buzzed. Reaching for the nightstand, he scrolled through all the missed calls from his mother. Who stayed back in the house, sitting on the floor, knees to her chest, watching the lifeless body of her husband surrounded by a pool of blood. Stuck in a state of shock, she didn’t know what to feel. It could have easily been her who was bleeding out, with her life cut short by the hands of her abuser. But, yet, again, Jungkook managed to be at the right place and at the right time. But, at what cost? Killing his father as an act of self-defence still puts him on the radar, and sooner or later the cops would want answers. The problem is that, when one lie gets out, everything else will follow. The abuse, the rape, the suicide, and the murder. 

So, Jungkook knew he had to leave. Now. But he couldn’t bear leaving you without a reason. So, he had to lie to protect your peace. Betray your trust and see the spark in your eyes slowly vanish. Make you feel worthless, like you weren’t enough. Pull on the strings of your breaking heart and step on the wounds that would hurt the most. Make you hate him enough to let go.

“Tell me,” you cried out, resting your aching head on the cold wall of his room.  

“What?” Jungkook sneered, furrowed gaze glancing at the tear stains on your face. It hurt. Hurting you, hurt him. 

“Tell me this was all a lie,” you yelled, kneeling down before him as your trembling hands reached for his. 

“You know I can’t, y/n,” he whispered, fighting back the tears. 

“Do you regret it? Please, say that you regret it,” you cried into his lap as his hands resisted the urge to comfort you, to hold you in his arms and tell you that it was going to be okay. Because in hindsight, it never was. 

“Would it matter if I did?” 

“Bullshit. You’re lying. I know you are. God, don’t you think I at least deserve to know the truth?” your pupils dilated, knitted brows raising at the sight of his empty glare. It was hollow. As if there was nothing behind those dark eyes. 

“Fucking hell, y/n. Are you even listening? I hurt you, and you still stayed. When will you get the hint?” Jungkook scoffed, pushing your hands off of him before slamming his fist on the nightstand. 

“When you grow the balls to admit that you’re scared of loving someone beyond fucking them. What you really couldn’t hold it in your pants?” you felt your throat tighten, finding it hard to breathe, even though you knew you couldn’t ask for his help. Because the person that was standing in front of you was no longer the one you used to know. There was nothing left of Koo. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n,” his voice broke down, glossy eyes looking back at your defeated self. 

“Whatever. I’m exhausted, Jungkook. Fights for us turned into fights with you. All I ever wanted was to be loved, and I truly thought that you out of all people would understand that,” you let out a deep sigh, wiping the tears off your face as quiet whimpers left your parted lips. 

“Y/n … where are you going? Please, don’t just leave,” he cried out, gulping down the pain of seeing how you looked at him. Like he was a stranger.  

“It’s okay, Koo. I finally got the hint,” she replied with a soft smile. 

“Y/n, if you walk out that door, we’ll never see each other again,” he sobbed with each step you took further away from him. 

“You know, that night, at the bridge, I was crying on your shoulder and you told me to live for you. But, I wish you would’ve just let me fall. Because, at least then, I knew for sure that the pain would only be temporary.” you glanced back for the last time, reminiscing all the memories that led up to this night, before closing the door behind you as your heart sank to your stomach.

“I still love you, I promise,” Jungkook’s whispers trailed off into a void. One that consumed his life ever since his sister died. And, one that will continue to do so, for nothing is as painful as love. In hindsight, it was all very clear, his broken soul knew who to love but not how to, always losing someone in sacrifice for another. While the cries of your bleeding heart knew how to love but never who, as you grew up alone, betrayed by the ones that were meant to be your everything.

[f1-giuki]

hey giu it’s wizzz can I request from your Drabble thing, if u feel like: obsessed by Olivia rodrigo, and the pairing is carloscar 👀🍊🌶️

my lawyer will be in contact soon, it is illegal in every country to give such good prompts and make me scream into the void!!!!!!!! THE SONG AND THE THEME AND THE PAIRING IS SO GOOD!!!! i added gratuitous and freaky smut for you 💖💖💖💖 hope you like it darling it ended up being quite long!!💖💖

obsessed - prompt post

“Lando, mate, how was your ex called?” Carlos asks one afternoon.

They’re lazing on the sunroof of Ferrari’s hospitality in Spain. Lando doesn’t know why Carlos brought him there, but he’s not going to complain. He loves the sun on his skin and a tan won’t hurt him.

“Luisa?” Lando answers, absent-mindedly.

Carlos looks at him and furrows his brows. He is sure Lando is lying, but he doesn’t know how he knows. It may have something to do with Charles’ wild party after his first Monaco win. He’s sure Lando told him something about regretting breaking up with someone, he just doesn’t remember who.

“No, last week you said someone else, at the party, remember?” He asks again.

“Shit, Carlos, what have I said? I don’t remember…” Lando says, taking his eyes off his phone and looking at Carlos. The Spaniard is not buying it.

“It was a dude, O-something, I don’t remember the name,” Carlos digs.

“What? Olivia, maybe?” Lando says, going back to his phone and the sun.

“I’m not stupid, and I don’t care if you fucked a guy…” Carlos points out, a bit whiny.

Lando shakes his head and puts his sunglasses on, hoping the conversation will stop soon. Carlos lets the subject drop, externally, but he keeps on thinking about it. He’s not interested in Lando. That bit is sure. He doesn’t like guys, he tried once with Charles and he didn’t like it. If it doesn’t happen with Charles, then everybody else can’t count. He’s just curious. There’s this feeling inside of him that wants to know and get his hands on that specific and deep piece of knowledge about his friend, and he can’t stop.

While Lando is napping under the sun Carlos takes his phone out and starts texting left and right, asking if anybody knows the identity of Lando’s ex. The first ten texts he receives are all disappointing, but the eleventh is something strange. It’s from Max and it just tells him a simple ask Oscar :).

Lando is asleep, so Carlos leaves him there, under the hot sun of Barcelona. He walks down the stairs of the hospitality, greets a few people and steps into the Mclaren building. Nobody questions him, he was family, and he impeded Oscar twice in the latest session of free practice, he can hide behind the falsehood of an apology. He walks the way of the driver’s rooms and spots Oscar’s easily. That was his, after all.

He opens the door, without knocking, and finds Oscar inside, in a comfy papaya hoodie and jeans. He looks like he’s about to leave the circuit. Oscar looks up at the sudden invasion of privacy and raises an eyebrow.

“Well? An apology?” He asks, tiredly.

“Not here for bullshit.” He says and Oscar rolls his eyes. Expected. “Who was Lando’s ex? I’ve been told you know it.” Carlos continues, slamming the door shut.

Oscar looks at him and rolls his eyes to the sky. Again. “What is wrong with you?” He asks, flat and not really interested.

“He told me, I forgot, we were drunk, and he won’t say anything now. You know, so tell me!” Oscar grins, a bit sadistically. He’s enjoying the desperation on the Spaniard’s face. It suits him, eyes wide like a hurt prey in imminent danger. Carlos locks the door as if to prove a point and Oscar laughs. He’s going to have so much fun.

“I am…” Oscar says, simply, looking at Carlos straight in the eyes.

The revelation comes crashing onto him. Oscar. Oscar Piastri is Lando’s ex. Now that’s a situation he needs to explore, map out with utmost care and detail. He must know all about it, he needs to know all about it, he must soothe that obsession of his. And he will do it, but there’s a more pressing problem. A problem pressing against his jeans and straining his underwear.

“Does knowing the fact that I used to fuck Lando excites you?” Oscar asks, with an amused little smile.

Carlos shakes his head but Oscar can see right through him. It’s making him go feral.

Oscar simply sighs. He gets up from his couch and takes the two steps separating him from Carlos. The Spaniard steps back until he’s squished against the locked door. Oscar doesn’t do anything strange at first, he looks into those big brown eyes, and then sinks down on his knees, slowly, keeping eye contact with Carlos.

He unbuckles the Spaniard’s trousers and drags them down against his thighs. Carlos shivers and whimpers pathetically, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. He’d like to tell Oscar to stop, to get the fuck away from him, but he can’t. His dick is so hard.

Oscar hooks a finger underneath the elastic band of Carlos’ underwear and drags them down too, breaking eye contact just to look at the dark hair around the base of the cock in front of his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks back up in Carlos’ eyes and starts sucking the tip, implicitly gloating when the Spaniard has to bite his hand to keep quiet.

It’s humiliating, all it takes for Carlos is for Oscar to deepthroat him in one swift motion, and then he’s coming down his throat unannounced. Oscar doesn’t say anything, he milks him dry and then releases him, licking his lips.

Carlos looks at him scared and speechless and drags up his underwear and jeans in one go, as fast as he can, praying to God that he closed the zipper too and that nobody heard him before he leaves, not saying a word.

“Freak,” Oscar mumbles, cleaning cum from his lips with his fingers, as Carlos slams the door open and runs away.

[sweetstench]

answering a bunch of questions

i get lots of asks but i'm bad at responding to them, so here's a big post where i answer all of em in a row. sorry if i missed any

thank you! honestly voice acting for my videos has helped me a lot over the years; I find it a lot easier to experiment with my voice in character, when it’s detached from my own ego. re: publicly transitioning, i can only speak from my own experience, but i’ve found it just takes a lot of baby steps to get where you want to be. it’s awkward at first but i much prefer to be awkwardly me rather than someone i’m not. i believe in you!

thanks, that's very considerate! yeah i'm sweetstench on youtube, tiktok, and twitter, and i'm sweet.stench on ig because someone else got it. i'll add the links to my blog header at some point, i hardly know how to use this website

i'm carter amelia davis, and i don't make creepy videos, all of my videos are nice :)

NO!!! that is not ok

hmm i live in minneapolis, that must have been my philly doppelganger

cool, i'm glad i did a good job tagging that one. someone actually requested the “parasite” tag for that one so i added it. it seems like people really want to define their own experiences on here and i respect that. tagging my posts kinda makes it so I can’t post “in character,” but i also don’t want people to be uncomfortable. my goal with the gore and body horror shit is to be nasty, so i can’t fault people for finding it nasty, haha. just trying to do my best

thanks, it's been a good one. i had some good tamales

this is so sweet of you to say! means a lot, truly <3

i have to imagine this was sent with good intentions but it feels like a well-crafted neg, haha. anyway peace n luv xoxo

i'm pleased to hear that i’m giving off leaking gas pipe woman vibes. Very cunty

not sure how to engage with this one , never had someone hit on me anonymously.. you correctly clocked me as a lesbo tho, haha

nope, can't dwell on my past work. gotta keep moving forward!

you must be cutie-melon to the fullest extent!

i looked it up, this is some freaky stuff! thanx for recommend

~~~ General Nice Comments Section ~~~

~~~ These Are All Appreciated, Thank U ~~~

i hereby grant swagheartwerewolf permission to fuck, in general. they are no longer banned from making love. that is my decree.

[asumofwords]

Ok lets talk about the important thing here:

How do you think Aemond, Aegon, Daemon and Cole dicks are?

🤔

Okay this is a really important question that I must answer.

And since my brain only ever thinks and imagines these things, and in my experience I have a fairly good eye for guessing (hands give it allll awayyyyy), let me begin 😈

Aemond’s cock would be long and have a nice thickness to it, I wouldn’t say he would be massively girthy, but I feel like your hand couldn’t wrap around it completely 😈.

His tip would be a blush pink, the same colour as his lips. He would occasionally trim the hair around the base, and that man is definitely veiny 🤤 I feel like he would be a good 6-7 inches long and very clean 🤤

There’s just something about skinny men, they always have a horse cock.

He has the perfect size dick (although to be fair, I actually hate long cocks because they hurt my cervix lmao) and he knows what to do with it. It has a slight upwards curve, a gift from the gods truly.

His cum would be salty, and quite nice to swallow down. It wouldn’t be gross or foul tasting, this man has a strict diet, and exercises often !

Aemond is clean and makes sure to take good care of his cleanliness and appearance, prim and proper like his attire.

Where Aemond has length, Aegon has girth.

He would sit around 5-6 inches long and super fucking girthy, not a chode, but quite thick. It would stretch you uncomfortably or painfully if you didn’t prep first. His tip would be the same colour as his lips but would get a deeper shade of pink and look angry when he’s horny.

I feel that he wouldn’t be too veiny, though would have some very soft foreskin to nibble on and I feel a bit extra tbh💀

Aegon is one of those fuckers who can cum and keep going, must run in the family. Absolute menace too, despite his cruelty, man knows how to make you squeal. He’s a whore, he fucks whoever, whenever, and has learnt tricks along the way.

Man definitely has a dick that smells like a dick. Not exactly the cleanest of cocks, musky as fuck, salty too, and his cum would be rancid because his diet consists of just alcohol and scraps of food lmao.

Definitely used one of his many dildo toys on himself or will use it on you instead, or make you use it on yourself and have him watch 😮‍💨

Aegon could dissolve your insides with his spunk. Acidic as fuck, a one way highway to thrush or BV. Hits good tho….

Daddy Daemon has a monster cock.

I’m not joking. Look at the size of this man. And his hands ? Huge. HUGE. I’m not joking. I’ve seen it. Anyway, back to his cock.

Daemon has a dick around 8-9 inches long and fat as fuck, he’s got a meaty cock.

A third leg. A tripod if you will.

Poor Rhaenyra is getting her guts rearranged every time he fucks her. She needs 3-5 business days to recover from the sheer force of the thing.

Pale and veiny, when hard his foreskin pulls back to reveal a gentle pink tip (same as his lips). Clean and well kept, Daddy Daemon’s cum tastes like when the heavens have opened and you have been offered retribution. Sometimes sweet, depending on what he has eaten.

Would absolutely be open to the idea of being pegged and anal play. Loves having his ass eaten ngl. This man is a freaky queer daddy 😈

Shoots fucking ropes though, you’ll be leaking for days!

Ser Criston Cole deserves no praise, but I would be lying if I said he didn’t have a pretty cock.

Tan, and a bit on the longer side like Aemond, this man would not know what to do with it. A sin really, to have such a pretty cock, and not use it.

A slightly more tanned knob, leaning to a soft purple colour, average thickness and the occasional vein, upwardly curved for your pleasure.

Ser Cole’s cock would be as clean as a whistle. I feel like Cole would definitely let you put a finger inside his ring, maybe too, and he would blush so pretty about it.

His bush would be soft as fuck too, have you seen this man’s hair ? Lush as fuck, looks like it should be in a hair commercial ad, and velvety smooth. I wouldn’t mind getting some of those hairs tangled up in my nose 🤪💀

His cum would be musky, yet not repugnant like Aegon. He eats well and is always moving so it wouldn’t be marinating inside of him, though I wonder if he empties the tank often or not, or if he actually is fermenting his seed 🤪

[mclennonlgbt]

McLennon and "I know" thing

Paul and Mal Evans came to stay with us somewhere in the late spring of 1967 ... Paul and Mal, this time, were full of tales of this here LSD and what it could do. Unrecognisable psyches on familiar heads and shoulders: the voice was Paul's but the tone was ... God's? Paul said he and John had had 'this fantastic thing'; which really wasn't very informative, so I pressed him to flesh it out. 'Incredible, really, just locked into each other's eyes ... Like, just staring and then saying, "I know, man" and then laughing ... And it was great , you know.' ... Realising he wasn't getting through , Paul said, 'You'll just have to try it.

(Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift, 1983)

1973: John's album "Mind Games" is released. It contains the song "I Know (I Know)".

I know what's coming down I can feel where it's coming from And I know it's getting better all the time As we share in each other's minds

Okay, 3 things: - the opening riff was copied from "I've Got a Feeling" - "it's getting better all the time" is an obvious reference to "Getting better" - "sharing each other's minds" refers to John's belief that he and Paul could read each other's minds AND their first LSD trip:

Me and John, we’d known each other for a long time. Along with George and Ringo, we were best mates. And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot. And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away.

— Paul McCartney (Barry Miles, Many Years From Now, 1997)

1983: Paul's album "Pipes of Peace" is released. In 2015 the album was re-issued. One of the added songs was "Twice in a Lifetime".

Who knows how we find love Stop before you give your answer Who knows where the mystery begins I know, I know I know because it's happening to me I know, I know

Also: Paul uses the phrase "one of those unspoken dreams", which reminds me of this fragment from Get back:

John: Hey! Have you dream about me last night? Paul: I don't remember. John: Very strong dream, you know. We both dreamt about it... amazing. Different dreams, you know. I thought you must have been there. I mean, I was touching you. Paul: Oh, you know, John, don't worry about it. John: There's nothing to worry about.

(notice that topic of telepathy comes up again)

The lyrics of "Twice in a Lifetime" refer to the idea of meeting the love of your life twice. I mean, it's about meeting two different people who are both the love of your life.

Which reminds me of Paul/John and Paul/Linda.

[delta-lethonomia]

Chapter 28 thoughts + spoilers below

My notes for this chapter were: "Astarion tries weed and gets the best head of his life. The end."

*insert meme of ben affleck smoking a cigarette with a thousand-yard stare*

yeah. no. yeah I don't know why I'm like this

...

anywho note how Astarion's a lot more pushy/going for dominant vibes here? That's very intentional. For all he's "accepted" his position with Tav at this point (which he does view differently than how she does), I think of Astarion as the type to push boundaries, even subconsciously. Real "give an inch and he'll take a mile" sort, which just added to why Cazador had it out for him so much even though he "always obeyed" after being locked in a tomb.

I've been writing him pretty exclusively in a submissive context lately so this is a fun inversion of that, because I do consider him a switch, and Tav tries to go for the "heteronormative submissive role" in return, and just...has a bad time with it. She's a purely dominant sort of person: she wants to be the driver, the seducer, the one in control, and by staying in a situation she's been in too often (pinned to the bed and unable to move) that she hates and is traumatized by, she starts to panic. In a way, the repeated biting/masochism is the real sex scene, and the blowjob afterwards is just work to her. She falls back into a service mindset and offers the violent deepthroating as both a treat to him (because of course Astarion must want that) but also to go back to the masochistic zoning-out space she was enjoying before.

My husband commented that he thought it was odd that the deepthroat part was so short, and that Tav made no moves to get herself off as she normally would. That's kind of the point: she wasn't mentally there. The blowjob lasted either as long or as short as you want to imagine. It was work with a little pleasure.

Astarion, conversely, was having a bit of a mental break at the point. Tav's been hitting him over and over again with allusions and comparisons to Cazador (whom she deliberately tried to imitate and associate herself with up until the point she started developing real feelings for him/some things hit her "ick" factor too hard) while telling him all about how she used to be a prostitute (voluntarily!) and yeah, enjoying some freaky stuff in bed that makes you feel bad about yourself is fine, actually, but this is the first time he really sees that in her. It's not that he disbelieved her before, no, (he saw scenes in her head after all) but it's the difference between knowing something about a person and really internalizing it.

Hence, it's the melding of two roles for him in that moment: he realized she could be frightening/domineering like Cazador, but also a former prostitute like him, and that these two concepts were not contradictions.

Anyway I just had to get some thoughts out of my head. No worries, Tav will be back to her femdom self in no time! Might do this for other chapters in future or do a write up for a passed chapter if there's any interest. Thanks for reading :) <3

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 88

Ah yeah, 9th Anniversary! Sweet ... hence the fancy duds! Cool ...

Wr don't need a skit, just let Taliesin cause Sam massive distractions ... oh, okay ... yeah, these fake Sam ads are always fun ... that one was ... unique ...

Plushie Sprinkle! OH MY GODS IT'S SO CUTE!!! :3

Ah yeah, cliffhanger resolution time! What's happening?

Okay, so have they been rumbled? Who is this? Does not sound good ... hmmmm ... gotta be careful with this ...

A "cute" growl? Hmmmm ...

Touch your friends with CONSENT, Letters ...

A SLITHERING sound? That can't be good ...

Travis' sleep paralysis demon is Laudna, apparently ...

I love how they're almost CASUALLY considering letting complete strangers suffocate in the Hole ... this group really are a bunch of murder hobos ...

Imogen: "We don't kill people!" Ashton : "We just power them down." FCG: "So they just go to sleep?" Ashton: "For a very long time, yes."

Hallucinatory Terrain? Sounds cool ... oh, ten minutes to cast? Yeah, maybe not ...

So they're coming now ...

A Battlemap? Just in case? Okay ... Sam's plug may not actually be necessary ...

Laudna-in-the-box ... XD

Pass Without A Trace is verbal composed? I agree, that IS counterintuitive ...

The porno play again? Really?

So they definitely ARE bad guys ... Unsettling Presence? Yup ...

They DOMESTICATED one of the freaky worms? Oh dear gods ...

Yeah, that's just LOVELY ... oh, it's BLIND! Great ... and it just KEEPS GETTING WORSE ... yeah, Travis is HATING IT ...

Time for D&D maths, guys ...

Laudna's Mission: Impossible dance of evasion ... XD

Sound like rocks, Ashton!

It has a freaky FLOATY ability? Weird ... crap, there's TWO MORE!!! Shit ...

Balls ... Imogen's BUSTED ... O.O

It's BITING HER HEAD?!!! Aaaaaaaah! Now it's CHEWING?!!! Fuck! Noooooo ...

How is Laudna not completely panicking right now? Seriously ...

An ANIMAL HANDLING check? Hmmm ... NAT20!!! Yes! This is a total fucking MIRACLE that this worked ...

Just get out of here, creature! Shoo!

Oh shit ... 7? That's such a bad roll, Laura ... it's just SO BAD right now ...

Shock Flare? Really? And now Inflict Wounds? Might be better ...

Laura: "TRAVIS, SHUT UP!!!" Maybe too late for that, now ...

Foll for Initiative? FUCK!!!

Matt's Peter Lorre impression is beautiful ... XD

Laudna convinces Fearne to turn into one of THESE things ... okay ... a Slither? Really? Ye gods ... Marisha thinks it's cute ... Travis: "Shit, WHAT?!!!"

Oh fuck yeah, they still can't see anything ...

FCG casts Guiding Bolt at 4th Level? At Disadvantage ... oof ... it still hits! Phew ... 23 damage! Yes!

More chewing! Argh! But Imogen's mental cries are oddly hilarious ... LOL

Yeet the faux slither! Fearne goes upstairs ... and now she's floating about up there ... she's getting SCRITCHES?!!! Really?

A bigger Battlemap? Hmmmm ...

Tremorsense, not Blimdsight ...

Oh, this is not good at all ... they're in a BAD SPOT right now ...

Marisha gets Whispers! Okay then ...

Stay quiet? RIGHT NOW?!!!

A deception check? As a worm? This is one of the most surreal battles we've had on this ...

Orym FEELS HIS WAY to the fight ... ye gods ... oh, here it is ... and ENGAGE!!! Stabby stabby stabby! A Goading attack! Sweet ... a lot oh hits ... and he IMMEDIATELY gets the HDYWTDT!!! Nice ...

She's free! Meanwhile Orym's puking ... Imogen tries to stop it and he vomits into her hand ... oof ...

Fake them out, Fearne!

It's working, she's leading them away! But NOW shat does she do?

Chetney starts to do a Crimson Rite ...

Yeah, everybody's just HOLDING right now, ready for whatever ... FCG can't heal Imogen because it makes noise ...

Lead them outside, Fearne! Come on ... this might actually work ...

Looks like it might be clear enough for now, at least ... Darkness dropped! Imogen is HURT ... not TOO bad but thos must be painful ... 2nd Level Cure Wounds from FCG ... 13 points of healing back! Phew ...

Yeah, how's Zhesh ... okay, not great ...

The Hole is turning into Mrs Miggens' pie shop cellar in Sweeney Todd ...

Can a slither SHRUG? XD Deception check ...

Crap, she's busted ... oh, no, they're just GOADING her ... now what? So she's just FAKING IT st someone else's door ...

They're burrowing! Okay Fearne, notes your chance! She flees to the others again ... or TRIES to ... yeah, she doesn't actually know WHERE she is so she just KEEPS GOING ...

Fearne is now LOST underground ... crap ...

This has become very surreal all of a sudden ...

Locate Creature? To guide her back? Yes, do that ...

FCG I'd trying to guide her back to them through some VERY ridiculous second hand directions ... and she's FINALLY back home them ...

"The Purple Lightning does not strike twice." Okay ...

Zhesh is fascinated by Ashton's hammer AND his skull ...

Oh ... a crystal blade replacement for FCG's saw? Cool ... that could be pretty sweet ...

They use the bones of their beloved dead in crafting things? That's cool in a creepy way ...

So the bane worms are basically like sandworms ...

A shortsword? Cool ... and it's blue ... that's very cute ... good choice, Orym ... oh yeah, that glow thing is a nice bonus, like a Ruidusborn detector ...

Druidcraft strawberries ... cute! :3

Laudna's giving Sashimi crystal bladed hands ... wow, that is EXTRA creepy ...

Short rest, then ...

Oh, the box? Aha! Yeah ... can they unlock it?

Ashton gets a ratty new makeshift glove ...

Chetney Claus returns ...

Orym takes his shirt off? Oh boy ... O.O

Fearne tries to use a long distance Dispel Magic on the box ...

Treshi scry ball ... still some distance away, at least ...

Zhesh makes FCG his own little crystal mood stone indicator on his chest ... oooh, AND he gets a new and improved sawblade ... that's pretty cool ... scary good ... snd it's LETHAL, too ...

Dusk has arrived ... time to go ... off to the Overspoke ...

Meanwhile opening the box ... and it works! Nice ... unlock it, then ... check for traps! Chetney is SCARY proficient at lockpicking ... and it's open! Here we go ...

An odd device ... hexagonal? No, you are JOKING, surely not ... oh no, more like something from the Malleus Key, but much more high quality ...

Eyes of yhe Rune Keeper? Okay ...

Abjuration magic ... cool ... Nat20, okay ... it's PART of something serious ... oh, it's designed to BREAK A SEAL ... it's Aeoran tech! Holy shit!

And NOW we're taking a break ... O.O

There's a 1 in 6 chance that the crystal blades SHATTER with each hit? Crap ... but in Imogen's proximity their properties are boosted ... cool ...

Arcana check for FCG ... BIG success ... okay ... even so, still really no more actual information on the piece in the box ...

Apparently Sam just discovered that FCG has acquired a black negligee from somewhere, but has NO RECOLLECTION where ... O.O

So back out into the street ... Vanguard gear on again ...

Keeping an eye on the scry ball as they go ... yeah, probably best ...

Group deception check ... it's good, not GREAT ... hmmm ...

Spiral stairs ... okay then ... but there are guards ... so what to do, then?

Chetney Claus sees you when you're doing THAT?!!!

Oh, so they could just BLUFF THEIR WAY up? Cool ... they think Imogen's her mother? Or just that she's automatically expected? Hmmmm ...

So is this actually working, then?

Aha, so here's Earot ... another deception check? 25? Bloody hell, Laura ...

Looking for a PURPLE house? With darkvision? Hmmmm ...

Borrowing Earot's spyglass ... and intimidating hom with her telekinesis ...

A Reiloran copy of Tusk Love ... which lost something in translation, apparently ... XD

Aha! Purple! Okay then ... so we have a destination, then ...

Off to find the Volition ...

Liliana is now FAMOUS on Ruidus ... hmmmm ... this could be useful OR problematic, depending on circumstances ...

Orym is now pretending to be Imogen's bodyguard to maintain an Illusion ...

Is that a Videodrome reference there, Matthew?

Pass Without A Trace! Go!

Fuck, yeah ... Ashton's still exhausted, we'd clearly forgotten about that ...

An excavation site? Okay, then ...

So ... is this a test? This IS the place, isn't it?

A persuasion check ... go Orym! Yeah ...

Oh, sneaky mind reading from Imogen ... now persuasion? 24! Okay ...

Meanwhile Chetney's fallen asleep ... on his FEET ...

Okay, looks like they passed the test ... so they're "friends of the Volition" ... okay ... Watcher Volido? Cool ...

Talk to Rashinna of the Golden Hammer? And Gaz Tomo? Hmmmm ...

A secret passage! Yay!

Apparently Orym is VERY SMALL ... O.O

Going in a pair at a time, losing the Vanguard outfits as they go ... and now they're in ... while Matt accidentally punches the mike and gives us all a heart attack!

In a tunnel, then ... going down ...

Oh, here we go ... how DO THEY prove they're friends of the Volition? Oh, the bodies? Really? The Juggernaut's head? Wow ...

So Rashinna will decide ... hmmm ...

A very weird wooden door ... so what's THAT about, Matthew?

So this guy's a Shrike? But blind ... that's interesting ... I like this guy, whoever he is ...

The door is ALIVE? Whoa ... they're ROOTS? Fascinating ... Chetney is rightly intrigued ...

Okay, so they're now SURROUNDED ... yeah, that's about right ...

They have their own Juggernauts? Bloody hell ...

Ah yes, this must be Rashinna ... oh yes, she us VERY impressive indeed ... oh, and she speaks OPENLY!!! Wow ...

True, Bells Hells STILL haven't picked a leader ... but Orym's picked Imogen, which is right ...

Imogen must make it clear she is NOT loyal to her mother ...

A persuasion check? Oh boy ... 27? Holy fuck, Laura!

Oh, so she believes her? Or rather believes that SHE believes that, at least ... maybe this'll work, then ...

Some kind of fancy magic mirror? Oh, so it's dome kind of ENTRANCE? Fascinating ... Holy shit, it's like the Goblin King's Labyrinth in there ...

Oh, so THIS is the real Kreviris? That is BEAUTIFUL ...

Gods, I love it when Matt gets enthusiastically carried away with his descriptions ...

A massive crystal core at the center of it all ... fascinating ...

Oh, that thing is the Weavemind itself? Wooooo ... and THAT I'd where Matt chooses to end it? Bloody hell ... cue massive indignation, ESPECIALLY from Ashley ... much as I would expect ...

[changeling-fae]

4. What would your Dark Urge consider to be their greatest flaw? Is this accurate?

5.What opinion does your Dark Urge have about the Go

6. How does your Dark Urge react to waking up with memory loss?

Thanks! Starting with Nym.

4. Her temper and forever burning rage she feels that she tries to keep suppressed but is always simmering underneath the surface. I’d say yes and no to accuracy, it’s a pretty big flaw but I think her greatest flaw is she has a hard time dealing with the grey inside of herself. She sees her own failings as very black and white and struggles with the idea that it’s ok to not be perfect morally.

She doesn’t see herself as redeemable and believes her bio-father (the Bhaal essence is an added feature during conception) would be ashamed of her were he still alive (he wouldn’t be, he was a drow, he understood struggling against a fucked up environment).

5. Oh boy, very complicated. She kinda loathes them but her father was a devout follower of Eilistraee and he passed on his divine spark to her (which doesn’t play well with the abyssal/Bhaal side).

She can feel Eilistraee’s presence within her but at the same time she’s so so bitter and angry and feels abandonment that Eilistraee didn’t help her when she had been kidnapped and tortured for years in a noble’s basement after her father died when she was a child.

It was her cambion mother’s influence that had rescued her (I’m going with power up puberty with her abyssal side, first time she transformed) and she’s so bitter about it because she hates her mother.

She hates Bhaal too just on principle. Like, the cult found her after she escaped her captivity but she hates that she became a willing monster for him.

She hates that the gods play with mortals like they’re toys and she hates that they often have no choice but to play along.

Her close connection to her father is the only reason she still tries to practice her faith (in secret), because he must have found the purpose, right?

6. Lol, pissed off and frustrated. She hasn’t lost all her memories, she remembers the point of when she escaped the noble at 14 and everything back from there (her memories are important to her characterization) but the cult stuff and everything she’s been up to since is a mystery, other than some snippets here and there.

She can sense that she’s not normal, and she’s aware she’s got a beast inside her, but there’s an ominous dread at not remembering what she’s been up to in the meantime. It haunts the back of her mind and has her on edge.

And now for Casira:

4. That she’s spiritually weak. Since Selûne has swept in to take advantage of her memory loss, Casira feels all those dark urges but has the mentality of a Selûne cleric, so is in a constant state of “wtf is wrong with me”.

The loss of control of her body just makes her think she’s got weak willpower, if she tried harder, she could control herself.

Is it her greatest flaw? Nope, it’s low self esteem and low confidence in herself. It’s not her fault she’s got a freaky nasty father-god that’s constantly trying to take her over for gross shenanigans. But she doesn’t have any confidence in herself and that doesn’t help her predicament.

5. That little leftover influence in her body of Selûne from her previous life (new soul though) really messed up Bhaal’s plans and she is a devout follower of the Lady of Silver. Even before the memory loss she felt drawn to Selûne and secretly prayed to her for guidance (a light to help those lost in the dark).

Unlike Nym, I don’t think she bucks at the idea of gods playing with mortals. She sees Selûne and a few other gods as genuinely benevolent and she understands why people follow gods, both good and bad. She just wants peace in herself.

6. Scared, confused, and worried. She’s afraid of why she’s got all these violent urges and is extra concerned that she seems to be the only tadpole inflicted with them. These aren’t normal feelings for a cleric of Selûne to be feeling (Selûne really just drops the manual on her with no explanation, lol).

[lakeynxmccray]

What Felt Well Deserved

Read with Caution

Trigger Warning: Abduction, violence, torture, blood, beating, severe injury, intrusive thoughts of death

Things this week had not been going well for Lakeyn. She still had Mckenna on her mind and she spent the last week wondering if things could have really been different. What If she could just own things up to her parents. She wondered what she was really scared of. But she knew the answer, not being perfect. Subconsciously the girl spent every effort behind closed doors to be her ideal of perfect. As she got older she got better at not obsessing over her appearances but after conversations with people, she would dwell on her words, on her actions. This is why she liked becoming Summer. No one knew who she really was and she could be free

Though, this evening at work was not ideal. There was one particular man getting a little too handsy with Lakeyn for her comfort. Things like this happened every once in a while but she was able to brush it off and the bouncers removed the guy. Though it did leave her feeling slightly stressed for the remainder of the night. It was nearly 6 am as she was one of the last to leave the Vanilla Unicorn. She made it to her usual spot a few blocks away to remove the last of her disguise and get into her car. The girl was tired, she had worked all day at Like a Broken Record before her shift dancing. She found herself at a local coffee shop getting something to eat and adding a little coffee into her system. It wasn't long before she was leaving and walking back towards her car near the vanilla unicorn.

It all happened so fast, being approached from behind, a hand coming and covering her mouth as she was pulled into an alleyway. But Lakeyn was a tough girl and she wasn't going without a fight. And while she started swinging, it was like they knew she was a feisty one. Chloroform drenched the rag that covered her nose and mouth. No matter how hard she fought, it was a matter of seconds before the girl was collapsing to the floor.

Vulnerable. Weak. Hopeless. All things Lakeyn despised feeling. And yet she found herself coming to while being tied down to a chair. The ropes were tight and digging into her skin, wrists bound together behind her. Her eyes scanned around the dark room in which she sat. Everything felt fuzzy, the room was spinning and her vision was blurred. ouch, my head. she thought as she took a few deep breaths. She must have hit in when she passed out. But then she heard sounds coming from behind growing closer. "Show yourself." She commanded, not letting the fear radiate in her voice. The figure moved in the darkness.

Silence filled the room as the first strike happened. Lakeyns head snapped to the side as she could feel blood dripping from her lip. The girl laughed, a smirk spread across her face. "Is that all you got? If you're going to beat me, stop hitting like a fucking pussy!" Her voice increased in volume as the sentence progressed. She was an antagonizer. Lakeyn couldn't recall the events that were happening. She just felt like she was getting hit by a bus over and over again. Part of her enjoyed it, though she would never admit it. Subconsciously pat of he felt she deserved this. She felt it was her time and if she were to greet death, she would have some fun with it.

Maybe this was gods way of punishing her for being gay or just sleeping around in general. Was she that bad of a person? With each strike, she of course had something out of pocket to say such as "My sub hits better than you", "Hit me, baby, one more time", and "Take me out to dinner before you get freaky with me." Part of her could not let these people know they had broken her. Inside, she felt like she was dying. She wondered which would be the last blow, her final breath. She was not sure how much longer she could hold on. She was tired, she was hurting. Her comments came to an end and it was just blow after blow. She was giving up. The little she could see faded to black. She was done

Was this what death was like? Darkness? Nothingness? Just end. But those were thoughts. Thoughts she realized as she was surrounded by paramedics as her eyes opened. Where the fuck am I? she questioned, the answer she could not make out on her own. She was in a display case at the Hidehill History Museum. Her vision was still blurry and her head spinning. She heard voices, there were too many. Her brain could not make out what they were saying to her. And there was that ringing, the god-forsaken ringing. Lakeyn blinked a few times before losing consciousness yet again. She did not come back to again until she was in a hospital bed.

"Lakeyn McCray, You are lucky to be alive." The nurse greeted her. Was she lucky? Or was this event about to blow her life up. The hospital room door busted open as her mother rushed in. "Lakeyn Olivia, don't ever scare us like that again!" her mother pleaded as she rushed over to her only daughter. "Fuck" the blond muttered, and just for a moment, there was that intrusive thought, that one that said I wish they finished me off.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary39

10/16-17/2023

mon/tues

i forgot to put the days yesterday, or i think even the entry before too. whatevs, i just need to remember from now.

anyways, here's a pic of me while in an h&m in that freaky mall:

maybe today will just be lots of pics cuz i didn't do a lot. i like, made ramen and worked on music. same 2 songs i've been trying to get perfect, i think i got closer with one, and then two other songs, i added bass to one, did some minor stuff to the guitar sound on another, just to get more transients out of it and idk, get it louder. but on the two songs i want to get right, idk, it's weird problems, there's like, a flatness maybe, i'm having trouble with, and then in one it's an issue of maybe i just need to bump the vocals higher, and then i dunno. whatever.

usually people write about how they feel in diaries, i do that sometimes only cuz i'm just so fixated on stuff that i think might hardly matter in terms of getting these songs right or like, living my life.

anyways, here are some photos:

i wonder if i could use these pics i took on top of the mountain for anything, i'd like to, if possible.

it's crazy how normal all this must be in like, the rest of the u.s. but to me the fall colors here and climate were super crazy and wonderful. i hope to go somewhere even more like that eventually, farther north in the fall, i would really love that.

anyways those are all like, the random photos of landscapes and whatever i took. i took a couple other pics that i think i can use for collages at some point, cover art stuff or something.

like:

i feel just like her, i think.

and:

this one already feels so wild, i kind of have to use it with something.

i didn't bring my digicam, cuz idk, it would probably be too much, and i didn't take the pics i have on there off yet, i have some fun stuff with a destroyed imac i found by my apartment's dumpster that i am def going to use, and some more bruise pics from me, bruise/hickey (lol).

anyways, i am sooo exhausteddddddd.

i don't know why, really, i guess is stayed up too late. maybe i didn't eat enough either. god, thinking on that, it was so hard to get water in denver, when we were in our hotel room we mostly just let icecubes melt and get water from that. the two bottles we bought (big ones) was not enough. in japan water was so cheap, for so much. it's like they wanted you to be alive.

i should sleep soon, though. i feel like woozy and i keep thinking the sun is about to be up because it's so bright in vegas and denver was so dark at night, i've never seen less effective streetlights anywhere and i am so not used to a lack of light pollution.

so, byebye!!!!

[cooloddball]

This is going to be a super long analysis of jib3 starting with the opening ceremony to the closing ceremony so brace yourselves. 

Please note I believe in the breakup theory so maybe my opinion in this one might be biased so please don’t come for me, lol.

I will put it under the cut to avoid overcrowding your dashes with cockles shenanigans. 

Also, watch out for profanities and mature language.

And so it begins...

Opening ceremony

The camera used to record the opening ceremony is shaky. 

Misha, Jason Manns, and Jarpad seem to be having a lot of fun together and Jensen is just looking at his besties talking to the man he loves and he knows he can’t have that so he just stands there looking at them. Poor guy.

Jarpad asks who took Misha’s riffle? Things are awkward, I honestly don’t know what’s going on.

Misha kisses a plushie while making eye contact with Jensen and Jensen is like “oh, oh, wow” while making eye contact with Misha. LOL. Jack help me. This is a lot!!!

Jensen takes a plushie from Sebastian and Jared takes the one Misha had.

Are you guys flirting about trying to see whether you can keep plushies alive?

Misha throws something at the fans, I think he was throwing treats from earlier or whatever it was and Jensen says “Misha is still throwing” I mean why?

Cockles Panel

Jensen is so extra in this panel.

First of all, when he and Misha come out (no pun intended) a song starts playing and he starts dancing. Jensen is usually so poised while dancing but he is over the top throwing his back and shaking his tush for the mish.  I think he was trying a little too hard. Misha spares his ex-boyfriend’s tush a glance smiles and looks away. LOL. The whole thing was cringey, tbh. It was so unlike Jensen.

When Sebastian touches Jensen’s shoulder and says something to Jensen, he [Jensen]  laughs way too hard. I would say he laughs abnormally-it’s loud and he throws his whole body into it like he’s trying to prove what Sebastian was funny and it probably wasn’t. He laughs so hard he ends up right on Misha’s side. and Misha laughs at that though.

Rich says something about something in the sac that hurts(It’s incoherent) and Jensen says it hurts right here pointing at his heart (I can’t hear what they are saying exactly so if anyone knows please let me know)

I don’t know if Mark P. was going to hug Jensen or not or he was pointing at something behind Jensen, but at that moment, Jensen sees Sebastian going to hug Misha and whips his head away from Mark P’s direction so fast he almost broke his neck.

Sebastian humps Misha (these two are so playful I love them) and Jensen is just there acting awkward 

There’s a comment by Rich about “It’s over, the convention’s over I’m no longer your bitch” I don’t know who this is about.

Now, now, now. This whole time Rich is doing a kissy mouth with his fingers on the monitor behind Jensen and Misha. His hand is right where Misha is standing (you’ll understand once you watch it) so Jensen makes a kissy face back and Misha is blushing? Ummm wtf is going on here?

Jensen also does something strange that he never does during cockles panels he pulls his seat away from Misha.

Misha makes a very weird comment about Sebastian’s libido drying up and they have a weird conversation about libido and Viagra ads. It’s weird.

It gets even more awkward Jensen talks about bringing a total stranger, and a blind date. And it goes downhill from there with them. The it wasn’t you it was me speech. It was special. So heartbreaking. It was clearly not about the show but about their relationship. I always have a difficult time getting through that part. It’s so awkward that the fans are just there wondering what the hell is going on.

They decide to take questions and the fan is all over the place so Misha interjects but Jensen won’t let Misha say what he wants to say so he says, “This is why you make it awkward. You never let people finish what they are saying.” Ouch. Domestic dispute vibes anyone?

The way Jensen is looking up at Misha when he’s answering that question. It’s like he wants to sear his face into his memory before they leave Rome.

Jensen is explaining to a fan how one of the four sound stages they had on set was full of furniture and Misha adds “and soiled mattresses”  I mean what was the reason? Did they soil the mattresses with their [redacted]

A fan mentions something about Dean and Cas so these two adorable dorks smile and share a look. Things are starting to look up. Thank Jack.

The fan says something again (I can’t make out what he’s saying) but it must be something nice because they look at each other with smiles on their faces again.

Jensen playing with the head of his microphone. Is it just me or did the temperature rise a notch higher?

The way they look at each other when the fan says to help him choose the hottest female cast member on the show 

Then something freaky happens they say the exact same thing as twins or bffs do sometimes. LOL.

When they start talking about the hot women with the fans Misha moves his entire body and now instead of looking at the fans, he is seated facing Jensen.  The tension is simmering down.

A point to note is that in all their panels they always sit angled facing each other as opposed to facing the crowd save for this panel and DCCON 2019. But for DCCON I can understand that they weren’t comfortable being meant to be a J/2 panel and a creation event. So you know some people in that crowd are super mean to Mish and others to Jensen, so they had to tread carefully. But I digress back to the chaos.

They ask who wants to have a cockles panel the next year and they both raise their hands. I thought that was sweet

 It’s adorable how Jensen keeps repeating everything Misha is saying.

Misha forgets himself and moves too close to Jensen to listen to the song on the phone. Jensen turns to look at Misha, I don’t know what that look is but Misha backs away laughing.

Jensen’s face journey while listening to that song is gold.

Misha moves closer to listen to the song.  I have to say the way they are standing is not usually how two bros listening to music usually stand. If you know what I mean

 Misha agrees that’s definitely Jensen singing. Of course, he knows because Mr. “Jensen sings to me all the time”

He looks so proud of him.  I’d venture to say he’s happy to hear Jensen sing because he has always been so shy about that fact about himself. He even gives him a standing ovation. That’s so adorable. He loves him. My heart.

Jensen is so cute trying to deny it’s not him singing that song.  Yeah, it’s you, Jensen. Even your ex agrees it’s you and we bet he knows how your voice sounds in all kinds of situations ;)

we get a tingly feeling so we know it’s you. Jensen’s adorable smile when Misha says that. Aww.

The way they are not even looking at each other but they are seated the exact same way.

Allow me to explain to my friend here. Explains how his parents didn’t know whether he was a boy or a girl. Misha with the steel chair, “when did they figure out that you were a boy?”

How many years did they call you holly?

For six to seven years

Is it just me or is this conversation a flashback of teenage twink-lesbian Jensen years?

Fan asks whether Dean will ever forgive Cas. Watch Misha’s body language, he is trying to pacify himself by rubbing the back of his neck and fumbling with his shirt.

When Jensen says “ No!” without a moment’s hesitation, Misha looks distraught? I don’t know maybe I’m reading too much into this but I feel like this hit too close to home being that they were most likely broken up.

Misha however has a different opinion, “I think he has” 

Jensen says, “Wishful thinking” and that elicits a smile from Misha.

A fan asks about Dean giving Cas the trenchcoat back and things get interesting.  Weirdly, that Jensen can’t say the word gay out loud. He literally uses the word “unmanly” in its stead in the guise of censorship? It’s not a bad word Jensen you can say it. However, Misha and the fans say the word so I’m wondering who is censoring Jensen’s use of that word. He eventually says it but super fast.

Jensen says that saying “I always knew you would come back” is not something he would say to another human being, especially a man. Jesus, there’s nothing wrong with saying that to another human being you care about. He’s the one making it gay. He was extra when answering that one.

They spent one and half hours making that scene just to end up not saying anything and it ended up looking gay anyway. Anyway, that’s interesting.

 Jensen angles his body towards Mish and says in a very low soft and sexy voice “I guess I really hoped that you would come back some day” I would venture to say that Jensen at the moment in the panel was actually saying them to Misha. Who knows though?

They talk about it a whole lot for something that bothered him that much. 

Misha being so excited about recreating a scene when a fan told Jarpad he’s amazing and Jarpad said "you are welcome. 

 “I think I understand what she wants. I’m not sure what she’s gonna get.” This is a very good line Misha. I will be using it often.

The way they awkwardly stand too close and whisper to each other. Umm…what is going on here?

Jensen folds over laughing because of something Misha says. They are back. The tension is almost 90% gone now and they are in their element.

The chaos of recording the alarm ringtone for the fan was just great to watch. They kept getting closer and closer and I think they might have shared spit at that point. Gross….LOL

The way Misha is sitting is he you know.

Jensen asking Misha whether he was saying anything or just screaming while they were recording. I think he just wanted to see Misha smile.

Jensen’s joy when a fan mentions that they have Misha’s résumé.

Jensen saying the word shit made my day. I curse a  lot and it made me feel validated somehow.

Misha calls him dickhead in return and Jensen stops functioning and laughs instead . He also gets all hot and bothered trying to fumble with the lapel of his shirt.  He does this a lot when he is turned on. He has a humiliation kink I think.

They start talking over each other about Misha’s special skills. Looks like Jensen might have known beforehand because he went straight for that. Or maybe he didn’t know but he knew since Misha is a mad genius there must be some amazing things in there. Either way, it was a good moment.

OMG Jensen is so excited and the way he motions to Misha to bring that résumé to him, LOL. This man was thirsty AF.

He even goes down from the stage to meet Misha and invades his personal space trying to reach the résumé. I think this is the moment the tension between them dissipated completely and they were back to some form of normalcy.

Misha holding Jensen’s shoulder trying to get his résumé back. Unsucessfully, I should add.

They read something funny and they fold over laughing and spin around like overjoyed seals. It is far removed from the mollusk family but at least it’s still a sea creature (I don’t know what I’m saying please don’t mind me)

Jensen is still on his knees laughing and can’t get up. As I said, he is being too extra in this panel.

 Misha is trying to talk but they both can’t stop laughing. I think Jensen laughed so hard he got an extra set of abs that day.

Jensen is still laughing and you know what he is laughing at? Misha’s special skills being acting on camera. I mean it’s funny but man, prayforjensen.

 They are still laughing. Jack, help them.

The way Jensen looks at Misha with pure adoration here makes me so happy and reminds me of the fictional characters they played being all heart eyes for each other.

 Misha laughed so hard he cried.

Jensen trying to read the next ‘special skill’ Misha has but he can’t even talk because of how funny he thinks it is. He’s trying so hard not to laugh but he can’t help himself.

Jensen agreeing and also asking the audience to agree that Misha has a knack for certain accents. Accent kink anyone?

 Jensen is so excited when Misha starts Tibetan throating singing and does the unicorn laugh facing away from the crowd. Bet he has experienced Misha’s Tibetan throat singing skills on a personal when they are (loud overhead helicopter noises followed by thunder rumbling)

Jensen falling to the ground after feigning a heart attack once he saw that Misha is a certified EMT. I mentioned before that I honestly, 100% think he wanted mouth to mouth. There’s no other explanation. He could’ve feigned a nose bleed or just about any other illness but he chose to fall on a dirty floor and lay down so Misha could either give him the breath of life or straddle him. Luckily for him his dream came true 7 years later at Jib9 when straddle gate happened. But I digress

Too bad Misha was still mad at him and heartbroken so he kicked him instead.

Jensen knowing that Misha kayaks seems to be part of his personal knowledge. Maybe they did it together sometimes.

Horseback riding. Hmm is it just me or do they seem awkward here?

 Misha is so close to Jensen’s armpits. Must be missing his man’s musk and being held in those muscular arms again. Poor baby.

Misha can’t talk because of how funny he finds bicycle touring. I mean…I don’t see what’s funny but I guess he knows why it’s funny.

Misha laughing and raises his legs because Jensen is elaborating on the bicycle touring. Maybe it’s an inside joke or maybe it’s no longer funny to me because I’ve watched this panel like 5 times.

 I think Jensen’s goal was to see Misha laugh and be happy because he turned to look at Misha who was still laughing hard and the joy on Jensen’s face. Aww.

Misha gravitating towards his man again. He must smell really nice Misha. And those arms. Bet he used to lift you against the wall and (this fucking thunder won’t stop rambling. Are chuck and Amara fighting again?)

Jensen marketing his man’s carpentry skills but then makes sure to make it ‘no homo’ by saying he would never sit on anything Misha has built. Sure Jan. Then he circles back and says that he knows that he can build things.

Misha walks away from him and he looks up to make sure where he is going. Maybe he was afraid Misha was walking out on him. (PTSD from their breakup?)

They mention acting on camera again.

And laugh 

Jensen keeps talking about the acting on camera and watches to see if Misha is still laughing  He still is and Jensen is happy that his baby is happy. He looks at him again and he is still happy that Misha is still happy. Then once the laughter dies down he starts talking about bicycle touring  and checks again to see if Misha is laughing which he is so Jensen throws his head back  unicorn laughing and then looks at Misha again to see that he’s still laughing. Then they look at each other and say something maybe it’s about that was a good laugh. Jensen is wiping tears from his eyes because of how hard he laughed  Misha does the same. That entire thing was insane and they seemed to love it.

 Jensen starts saying that being this happy or goofing around is how they are on set sometimes and have to take a 5-10 minute break and Misha doesn’t seem too happy at the mention of the set. 

Jensen knowing that you can buy résumés on eBay. Did he buy Misha’s and then plant someone in the audience to bring it up or? Okay, yeah I know I’m reaching here but it’s probable.

 I guess my theory wasn’t farfetched because Jensen says that he’s pretty sure that Jarpad put it on eBay the previous night so maybe he is the one who did all that to win Misha back?

Jensen knows the appellation clogging is a stretch. Seems like Misha has told him about it before.

Jensen looking at his watch to see if they have time for  Misha to be telling a story about his high school sweetheart and now wife. I bet he wishes Misha could tell their love story so openly. He can’t stop looking at Misha.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha here. WTF man? He’s literally confused about what the question is.

The personal space question. This whole thing was just so many things. It was awkward, cringey, thirsty, funny.

when the fan asks whether there’s a funny fact between Jensen and Misha. I almost fainted. What? And Jensen repeats it. The two men are so stoic. They are not even looking at each other. They are looking at the fan like the way a statue stares at you, unmoving. Cringe.

The room is so quiet. Poor girl, I hope she didn’t feel awkward afterwards because if it were me, I would’ve cried from how stoic they looked and how quiet everyone was.

How they both scratch themselves, Misha on the head and Jensen on the nose. Maybe the question hit too close to home

Jensen turns to look at Misha as if to say ’help me out here man. We don’t wanna disappoint our fans.”

Misha gets it because he gets up. This whole thing is gold.

The way Jensen breathes out in anticipation. I know it was like they were playing a skit about personal space but why was he breathing like that? Shouldn’t he have been playing it as ‘uncomfortable’ not ‘turned on.’ Boudoir mannerisms.

Moving on Misha is unsure on where to touch Jensen 40.31. This is weird in and of itself because usually, they don’t have a problem touching each other’s faces, tush, eggplants, (jib4 anyone), backs et cetera. But now it’s weird? *cough* breakup *cough*

Misha touches Jensen’s ear and Jensen literally moans. He frigging moans people. In case it is not clear in the video, here is an isolated audio version of it. Jensen is also fumbling with his shirt like he’s all hot and bothered. Just like Misha did earlier. Was Jib3 their couple’s therapy that reminded them how happy and horny they made each other?

Jensen is really not answering the question, to be honest. He’s fumbling for words and trying so very hard to make sense but his word are  incoherent.

Misha going in for the nose dip. I know friends do this all the time but you have to be very close and familiar with someone such as a friend friend or a sibling for you to poke a finger in their nose. I mean noses are slimy and eww…anyway. That happened. They seem so comfortable with it. Jensen I love you but please stop talking.

The way Jensen looks at Misha. He has the cutest smile on his face as if saying thank you for making that fun and making me horny, I still want you.

Misha wiping his pinky that touched Jensen’s nose on his pants. (I wanted to add something disgusting about what heshould’ve done with that pinky but I won’t so let’s move on)

Jensen wiggling his nose.

When Misha suggests that Spn moves to Nickolodeon. Jensen laughs a bit too hard.

Misha talking about spn being a puppet show reminds me of how he mentioned them having a puppet show in Jensen’s backyard after the show is over.

Jensen also saying that in a way spn is a puppet show. I mean is someone making snide comments about how their strings get pulled and sometimes they are not happy about it. Like how they fired his boyfriend. It seems like it’s an inside joke.

They named the plushie Zippy aww :))

For jack’s sake guys, the way they look at each other when they mention that the  résumé was the highlight of the panel.

Jensen saying the more dirt you dig up on Misha, the more rewarded you are. Aww, someone’s trying to win his man back by any means necessary. You go girl…I mean Jensen.

He talks more about how he’s looking forward to next year when fans have more dirt on his friend Misha. Jensen didn’t want to leave the stage, he was lingering so he could spend more time with Misha.

It’s over guys.

Closing Ceremony

I know you didn’t ask for the closing ceremony but here you go. It’s a free gift.

Can I just mention how Jarpad is an overactive puppy? He has to play with anything and everything he finds.

The mc announces Misha twice for some reason. The second time Jensen looks in Misha’s direction with a small smile on his face. He [Jensen] is also chewing vigorously.

Jensen and Jarpad being typical dude bros and karate chop Rich. This is why the difference between his relationship with Jarpad and Misha stands out. He would be too busy making heart eyes to Misha to kick another guy. LoL.

Jensen hulking out when Jarpad is taking a video of everyone. Lol. This video keeps reiterating my point that his relationship with the two men is just different.

Jensen keeps looking in Misha’s direction, Misha who is busy talking to Steve and having fun. Let me also mention Steve is Jensen’s bestie and so are Jarpad and Misha, but I’m sure that Jensen felt some type of way, jealous when they were having so much fun with his man and he couldn’t. Jarpad also takes a while filming Misha for Jensen of course. They remind me of me having a crush back when I was in school. Wait, did Misha look at Jensen? It’s hard to see because the angle of the video is not expansive but I guess he was.

As soon as Jarpad gets back, Jensen takes the camera from him and starts filming fans. I’m sure he just wanted Misha to look at him

Rich mention’s Misha and something about acting on camera and Jensen licks his lips looking at Misha (I think).

Jensen then vigorously grabs the microphone from someone immediately and mention’s Misha. Jarpad’s reaction at that moment tells you everything you need to know about what’s going on between Jensen and Misha. It looks like he is pleading with Jensen in his head saying, “Don’t embarrass yourself bro. Please don’t” but it’s too late.

Jensen again talks about Misha’s résumé and specifically about acting on camera, the thing that made Misha laugh out loud during their panel. Someone’s smitten. Defending his ex-man.

Jarpad goes to whisper something to Misha. And they laugh while Jensen is thanking the jib staff for doing an amazing job. But when he sees the duo laughing, he loses track of thought and says “and they are all getting married”  dude what ??? How do you go from thanking people who worked on the convention and in .1 seconds you are talking about they are all getting married? Who is? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? No one gets it, he says he’s kidding and gives Jarpad the microphone, spares a glance at Misha and he seems distraught from that moment on. I wish I could see Misha’s face through all this.

He’s glancing in Misha’s direction again. Man’s got it bad. What?! Oh to be loved by Jensen Ackles. Misha must be a prize, I know he is a mad genius and gorgeous and sexy as hell with that golden skin that looks like it was dipped in gold and honey, big blue eyes that are bluer than the bluest blue, but Jensen wtf man? You are in public.

 I think Jarpad is telling Jensen something maybe it has to do with what he and Misha were talking about earlier?

And it’s over people.

Overall, I agree with the breakup theory. I mean the way these two were acting around each other was very strange. If you watch Misha and Jarpad, they seem okay from the opening ceremony up till the end but Jensen and Misha are just being weird.

The panel was mostly fun but their body language told a story that something was definitely going on between them. 

@littlewolf2703

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

March 2021 Part 4

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. 

This is a LONG ONE, it’s been A WEEK everyone. 

Ongoing Series - Thai

Lovely Writer Ep 5 - a little slow this week, but at least Gene finally flirted back, and very cute flirting it was, too. Also we got Aey’s motivation, background, and love interest. Thank goodness for that. 

Brothers Ep 8 - still pants, what can I say? Clearly I am a BL masochist. Very embarrassing for everyone concerned. 

1000 Stars Ep 9 - the conflict over Tian’s father was REALLY well done. The plot of this drama is excellent, the leads are great together, and yes I totally cried. What, you didn’t? 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Word of Honor (China) Ep 16-18 - big battle fighty fighty stabby stabby. Ep 17 switches to “this drama isn’t big enough for two chaotic-neutral godlings!” So what do they do? Drink together and bicker... A LOT. Then in Ep 18 we all get the dubious joy of really freaky puppets. (I HATE puppets.) Also how is China letting this be so SO VERY VERY GAY?  Also, I wanna walk through the forest wearing a smanshy purple robe and waving a big fuck-off white fan around simply because I’m a pretentious fuss monger. And frankly, I feel like this is an achievable life goal for me. 

We Best Love 2 (Taiwan) Ep 4 - not gonna lie, this is looking to be one of my top 3 BLs of 2021. It’s SO GOOD. Big bonus to this ep for treating stalker behavior like the mental illness it is and not as some dumb representation of enduring love. 

The Most Peaceful Place is My Place (Vietnam) Ep 1 - finally dropped (find it under NƠI BÌNH YÊN NHẤT LÀ VỀ BÊN EM on O2′s channel). It’s got actors already comfortable with BL and looks pretty good so far. An angry tsundere uke reunited with his ex, a stoic chef, giving us lots of snap, crackle, and pop out the gate. 

Dear Uranus (Taiwan GL) Ep 2 - I want to love it, but it is just moving too fast. There’s not enough character dev and then they’re throwing flashbacks in? It feels like a treatment rather than a show, and a rushed treatment at that. Bummer. 

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 2 (AKA Ep 3-4) - let the cheesy popcorn continue! Idiot remains an idiot; ingenue remains an ice queen; nice gay guy remains nice and gay; obsessive stalker brother is getting ever more whackadoddle. Of course these last two have the best chemistry. (It’s caregiver codependency and the salvation trope. We got us a Leo/Fiat situation going on.​) Plus lots of classic BL tropes because OF COURSE there are lots of tropes. 

Occasionally, I am tempted to argue that shows like H4 or Cherry Magic or Ossan’s Love aren’t technically BL because of the office setting and age of the protags - but then they all behave like high school students anyway, so *shrug* 

Stand Alones

Cute little Taiwanese micro BL Friend or Lover dropped, about bisexual realization within a friendship group. Normally these are too short for me, but this one did pretty good with its 15 minutes of charm, plus it’s abad boy + shy softy pairing. 

Breaking News - Thai BL

Fish Upon the Sky released its actual trailer. The upside-down kiss is gone, which makes everyone sad, and it seems far less rivals to lovers than the first iteration, which makes ME sad. But it still looks good and a more classic BL than GMMTV has given us in a while. New trailer focused more on the makeover trope and they’ve upped Mix’s role (the object of everyone’s affection) now that he’s proved himself. (Or they are using him more to carry the trailer since he has a fan base form 1k*). Starts April 9 on GMMTV in 1K*’s time slot, probably with a 10 ep run. 

2gether the movie is apparently coming April 22 to Thai theaters. F4 Thailand must be having issues or GMMTV just wants to milk the BrightWin cash cow. It’s rumored to be a combination of 2gehter + Still 2gether with some extra scenes and ending. Also, one assumes a lot will be cut out, if it’s movie length.

Call It What You Want released its updated trailer. If anything, it looks more scary than before. What are we in for? April 9th. 

Nitiman got a release date, May 7 on One31. 

I Told Sunset About You 2 got an updated release date of May 27 on LineTV. 

Second Chance the series is coming to LineTV on March 29. I don’t know much about this one. Tons of familiar faces (mostly TharnType side dishes) and some nice looking new talent but a dearth of eng subs. I think it may take on Brothers’ time slot. Line did eng subs for Brothers so maybe they will do 2nd Chance too? 

Close Friend the series is coming April 22. This is a combination of 6 couples with 6 story arcs as music videos (maybe)? It’s an epic fan service with familiar faces like OhmFluke (UWMA), MaxNat (LBC also in Y-Destiny), YoonLay (YYY also in Y-Destiny), KimCop (GenY), and JaFirst (TT2).

Y-Destiny starts March 30, and has starting dropping couple’s trailers. I’m still suspicious given the director but it seems like there is plot (or plots) and a theme. Looks to be a series of 7 single ep vignettes (amended, see comments, might be 2 eps each for 14 eps total), different couple each time, some with supernatural elements, all with decent chemistry and acting chops. 

Sun MaxNat’s tutor/student arc

Mon jaded rich kid meets poor innocent  

Tues sports romance enemies to lovers 

Weds the messy realistic actual dating one 

Thurs hot ghost boyfriend (sad) 

Fri YoonLayPerth coping with loss and finding new love (sad). This one will all rest on Lay's acting so we know it’s in safe hands. Our boy is going to KILL it. 

Sat time-slip memory loss reunion romance 

I’m thinking we can’t expect any of these to end happy or be classic BL. They’re gonna be more slice of life-ish. 

Gossip - BL Outside of Thailand 

Scholar Ryu’s Wedding Ceremony AKA Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korean historical BL) got a legit teaser (eng sub here). @curriculumvtae​ reports that it’s releasing April 15th on WeTV (Philippines & Thailand) and Idol Romance (South Korea), while Will of Thai Bl says it’ll be on Viki too. It’s a short run of 8 ep built on a fake relationship trope (arranged marriage variant):

Ryu Ho Seon’s (Kang In Soo from You Wish) arranged marriage turns out to be with his expected bride’s brother, Choi Ki Wan (Lee Se Jin from Mr Heart). Ryu tries to undo the marriage, but his ill mother opposes this saying the scandal would be too much. Meanwhile, Kim Tae Hyeong (Jang Eui Soo from Where Your Eyes Linger), a senior at Ryu’s school, comes to congratulate him and falls in love with Choi. Then one day, the original bride disappears.

Okay it seems a bit twisty turny for ONLY 8 EPS, but oh my goodness how excited are we? Our first intentional historical BL out of Korea!

We already knew Hong Kong was doing a remake of Japan’s Ossan’s Love under the same name (not my favorite Japanese BL but so very popular) but it’s now reported to be coming to Viu in June. Who knows how the CFA will take it. Depends on whether Hong Kong bows before the NO GAY KISSES regs or if they are going to use this as a political nose thumb... things could get cray with this puppy (the original has several kisses and s shower scene). Are we back in Addicted territory only with added comedy and civil unrest?

Speaking of Japan, Absolute BL (AKA Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai vs Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko) dropped sooner than anyone thought, March 27. But being Japanese who knows how/when/if we get subs. Protag finds himself trapped in a world of BL, but being straight he fights against any hot guy that draws near, but the whole world (literally) is conspiring against him. It’s a parody adapted from a yoai.

What with Absolute BL from Japan plus Lovely Writer and Call it What You Want from Thailand, is 2021 the year of BL being ultra self referential? Sure feels like it.

In Case You Missed It

Faded a gay micro film from Taiwan from 2017 deals with parental acceptance and serves up a ton of BL tropes (piggyback, forehead kiss, etc). I’m pretty sure this was a propaganda piece for legalization of gay marriage, and it’s an interesting nugget of BL history as a result. Yes, it ends happy. It’s cute. 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed a day later than actual air date for accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

Man there’s a lot going on right now! Spring has sprung... I suppose. 

P.S. I cannot believe I missed Absolute BL as a blog name. Numbnuts = me. 

[dcforts]

[week #2: drive-in cinema]

1.1k, S5-ish.

Cas appears out of nowhere in the passenger seat, making Dean jump out of his skin and spill soda all over himself.

“Jesus, Cas! I said you gotta stop doing that."

“Sorry,” he says, staring as Dean checks the wet stains on his clothes and the bag of french fries in his lap. His shirt is soaked but the food's still edible and the seat is dry so at least there's that.

Cas raises his gaze above his shoulder and takes in the cars parked on either side of the Impala, the snack bar in the distance and the big screen in front of them, where Dr. Lesh is talking to little Robbie, more or less one hour into Poltergeist. A wrinkle appears in between his eyebrows. “Where are we?”

“At a drive-in, you dumbass.”

Cas looks back at him in confusion.

“It’s where you watch movies from your car.”

“I know,” he says, with an irritated inflection, like that wasn’t what he was confused about. He doesn’t elaborate further, “Where is Sam?” he asks.

“Stayed at the motel,” Dean says, giving up on his shirt and starting to feel irritated too, “Why are you here again?”

The question makes the wrinkle disappear and his face go back to his usual business-like expression, “I found a werehouse that I have reason to believe is occupied by demons. It’s heavily warded against angels so I need you to go inside.”

Dean shoves a couple of soggy fries in his mouth. His eyes go back to the screen, “Oh, yeah? Okay.”

Cas frowns again, “It’s best if we get Sam first.”

“Wait, you mean now?”

Cas just stares.

“Yeah, forget it, man. We wrapped a case like two hours ago. Now I’m relaxing. Sam's probably asleep. We ain’t going to no werehouse with you tonight.”

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but the music in Poltergeist swells omniously and it distracts him. He turns to look at the screen, at Marty taking his face off in front of the mirror. His frown deepens, “Do you find this relaxing? In your line of work?”

“Uh – yeah?” Dean says, grabbing another fry from the bag, “In movies the bad guys – y'know, nevermind, you wouldn’t get it,” he says, gesturing with the hand holding the fry.

Cas follows the movement with his eyes right up until Dean brings it to his mouth. When it disappears behind Dean’s lips his gaze travels up to his eyes again. It makes Dean feel weird for a second.

“So, you won’t go?” he says and Dean remembers to feel annoyed at him.

He exhales, “Look, come get me tomorrow, okay?”

Cas blinks. “Okay,” he says, but doesn’t disappear immediatly like Dean expects. He goes back to studying the screen as the ghosts go down the stairs, blowing everyone’s mind.

Dean throws him a look, “You wanna watch it?”

“No, I should go,” says Cas, his tone flat, his eyes still fixed on the movie.

“To spend the whole night looking at a werehouse you can’t even go in? You can get a night off, right? What’s the – company policy up there?”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.”

Dean tries not to roll his eyes at how dramatic he sounds.

“Okay, so you can live a little," he says and then amuses himself adding, “Just try not to talk too much if you can, Chatty Cathy, and maybe we’ll go get milkshakes after.”

Cas looks at him confused again and Dean raises his eyebrows, “It’s a drink. It’s got like milk and ice cream and whatever.”

“I know what a milkshake is,” he says, irritated once again. “I won’t have one.”

Dean rolls his eyes this time, “Fine.” He guesses it’s Cas’ way of saying he’s going to stay after all.

He crumples up the paper bag and makes himself comfortable against his seat. On the screen, Steve is talking to Mr. Teague.

Cas does not in fact talk for the rest of the movie, but Dean still gets a kick out of him being there, seeing his shoulders losing some of their stiffness, his perplexed expressions, his eyes widen and squint when the soundtrack changes.

By the time the credits start rolling, Dean realizes he studied Cas' reactions as much as he’s watched the screen. Whatever, he’s seen it like fifty times and can recite it backwards. It’s not like every day you get to go to the movies with a capital A-angel - Dean’s just curious.

Cas doesn’t disappear when the movie ends either, so Dean really drives them to the nearest diner to get himself a milkshake. Cas gets out of the car and stands next to him while he waits for his turn in line, so Dean tells him about special effects and Spielberg and the freaky curse on the franchise he and Sam haven't had the chance to go and properly investigate yet.

“There’s a second one then?” Cas asks as Dean is driving back to the motel.

“Yeah, but there are also others you should watch,” he says - his mind already working out a list. “I'm thinking The Texas Chain Saw Massacre next - another classic. We could rent it sometimes -” he trails off.

What is he even saying? He frowns at himself. They’re currently busy with nothing less than the freaking apocalypse, making plans for movie nights it’s just stupid.

Cas doesn’t say it’s stupid. He says, “Okay."

"O-okay? Yeah, uh - alright."

Dean stops the Impala right outside his room and Cas surveys the surroundings for a moment.

“I will see you tomorrow then,” he says after, looking back at him.

All of the sudden the car seems too small and too quiet and too dark. Dean doesn’t know how he's been in that space for hours and he’s only just noticing it. He doesn’t feel like talking so he just nods.

“Good night, Dean,” Cas says.

“Night,” says Dean to an already empty seat.

He goes to bed still feeling weird for making plans with Cas, as if once this business is done they won’t go on their own separate ways without looking back, as if Cas would come down from Heaven to hang out on Friday nights or something.

Cas must know though. Cas must know and he indulged him anyway.

Maybe he did cause he thinks they're gonna get killed in the end, so it doesn't really matter, or maybe he's just as much a delusional dumbass as he is, thinking that one day they'll have the time and place for that.

It'd be fun though, Dean thinks, as he falls asleep.

It's a pity. They could have a good time.

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and i said YES