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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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Title: wine nights [coward series au] Pairing: F!Reader x Miya Atsumu Genre: fluff, parents au, slice of life au Synopsis: in which the older Miya twins and you have a heart to heart talk over wine.

Warnings: brief mentions of trauma

notes;

highly suggest to read the series for more understanding but either ways be my guest and just read it as a standalone if ya want to. also um the taglist has been closed ever since chap 7 was out so im really sorry :(

happy 415 followers btw uwu. will be releasing my kita angst fic next week to celebrate a new milestone.

read the series here! [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

Osamu admits that you and him never saw eye to eye back in college (actually it was mostly him), it only took a worse turn when you left his twin. Now that he knows that the person you loved was actually his twin and that the father was the said person, he takes it back.

Yep, he takes it all back.

After profuse apologies and numerous deadpan responses from you saying that it was alright. You sort-of developed a weird friendship? He’d tell jokes and you’d just give him a blank expression and shake your head as if you were disappointed to be in the same room as him.

You always invited him and Daiki to your home every week on Sunday dinners though, he’s glad to be a part of it. He’s getting to know you a bit more and he’s slowly starting to understand why his brother loves you a lot.

The night is young and Atsumu is in the kids room, putting them to bed while you get ready for wine night. The younger Miya twin sits at the counter and nibbles on the cheese crackers as he watches you dry the dishes, “Has ‘tsumu ever told you how he first met you?” he suddenly asks out loud, curious if you knew how whipped his twin was for you and how much power you held over him.

You turn to the grey-haired twin with a plate on one hand and a dish towel on the other, “I don’t believe he or Shion-san has ever mentioned it.”

He chuckles, of course they wouldn’t. It was usually kept in the dark then and because of your strained relationships towards them when you were in college, they never actually got to tell you the story.

“He saw you one day, earlier in the school year…”

“He did mention that one time.” your forehead creases as you remember a fleeting conversation you had back then.

“Yeah, he kind of fell in love with you at first sight, Y/N.” his twin chuckled, “Sounds crazy right?”

Growing up, Osamu knows that his brother had attitude problems so imagine his shock and surprise when his twin called him up on a random night and started talking about this girl. This girl who barely paid him any attention at all.

Osamu recounts his thoughts then, how cruel fate would be for his twin to fall in love with a girl who paid him no mind when he had many others on his beck and call. He recalls how he’d call his brother a masochist, telling him to stop the fruitless chase towards you because you barely gave a time of day to Atsumu even if it was clear that he was completely and utterly enamored by you.

Well, it ended happily for the both of you. Stable careers, dreams reached, happy family, and adorable kids.

Son of a bitch, the old Osamu would be given a run for his money if he saw what had happened to you two now.

“That must’ve been a long time, then.”

“Oh, trust me.” Osamu breathed out, taking a sip of his wine, “It was only the first few months of the school year that time, Y/N. He says he saw you all the time but he could never pluck out the courage to actually go and talk to you.”

“Hm.” You mused, “I always thought that Atsumu had women hanging by his shoulder.”

Osamu chokes at the idea of Atsumu being a player, “Before he met you, it’s always been about volleyball. The idiot would go so far as insult the girls when they’d disrupt practice.”

“Huh,” you blink, “Was I his first girlfriend then?”

“Not exactly.” Osamu drawls, tapping his chin, “‘tsumu would say yes to girls but he never really knew what being a boyfriend was, he never hung out with the girls he said yes so it never really was a relationship. Hence why he’s got a reputation as a player.”

Osamu recounts even one time how annoyed his brother was when one of his ‘girlfriends’ came to their matches and screamed out his name when he did serves.

“She was fucking annoying,” Atsumu grumbles, walking in the middle of his brother’s tale and casting his twin a look, “Although I do wish that Y/N would come to my games. You never did come to any of them back when I was in college.”

“I was trying to graduate early.” you deadpan, placing the last dish on the dish rack to join them on the table.

“You’re forgiven, sweetheart.” He fakes a coo, making you roll your eyes as you pour yourself a glass.

“Atsumu tells me that he’s never smooth around you.”

“He isn’t.” you glazed, “Back in college when I gave him a tuna flavored onigiri as thanks after our meeting at the frat party, he had a nosebleed.”

Osamu chokes on his drink, “What the hell, ‘tsumu?” he barked, howling in laughter at his twin.

Atsumu would never deny the fact that what we had towards you was a school boy crush at first, he’d always be a nervous mess or his brain would cease to function whenever you came by then in college. He couldn’t put two and two together too, when you simply gave him one word replies, he’d be lost immediately. Not knowing what to say, all the charisma and overconfidence he had went down the drain by your curt replies.

What would anyone expect, really?

He’s never had crushes on anyone growing up.

The idea of putting time and effort towards something that wasn’t volleyball disgusted him yet here he was now, completely whipped for you and the brats while putting volleyball on second.

My, my how the tables have turned.

“You were really hard to talk to then, sweetheart.” He murmurs, “For the record, Y/N was the very first girl I asked out and you didn’t exactly make it easy after. I was thinking I was going to fail after those countless rejections.”

“You’re more pushy than Daiki, I’d have to admit. The guy stopped after his third rejection.”

Osamu raises a brow, he knows of your situation, Atsumu has mentioned it in passing but hasn’t gone into full detail about it but he’s curious, Daiki’s been around longer after all, “He’s known you longer than, ‘tsumu. Probably even deeper back then, how come you never ended up with him?”

Atsumu blinks and turns toward you, he’s curious too, Daiki has even openly admitted that he proposed to you seven years ago after knowing about the kids but you rejected him yet again (that was the last and final attempt)

You swirl the wine around, thinking of a proper response, “To be honest, I don’t know.” you answered, pondering as you turn towards Atsumu, “I just- it never felt right.”

Osamu whistles, “Dang, you just love my twin too much too. I take it back, yer both simps for each other, it's sickening.”

Atsumu lets out a childish tongue out in which he is replied by a middle finger from his other half.

You three continue to talk about random things and after deeming himself too sleepy and needing to open shop early tomorrow, Osamu says his goodbyes.

You sat in front of your vanity as you did your nightly routine, brushing and untangling the tangles of your hair after you showered and changed to a comfortable bedroom attire.

Atsumu exits the shower half naked as usual, his hair damp as he ruffles the towel on it, he slowly approaches your side and dips down to kiss your naked shoulder, “Hey Y/N.” his voice is muffled and vibrating through your skin.

You hummed a reply, still brushing your hair.

“Why didn’t you marry Daiki?”

You paused mid-action and raised a brow at his sudden question, turning to him as he suddenly stood up straighter with his hand now replacing his lips, “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles, he’s been married to you for two years already and everyday’s like a honeymoon phase that doesn’t end, why would he be jealous of that scrub? as if, “I’m just curious. The idiot’s good looking, rich, good with kids, and a full package. A blind man could admit that.”

“You're a full package too.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment, as if he was saying, really?

You chuckle in a low voice, “Because he’s like my psychiatrist, Atsumu.” You simply said, shaking your head as you turn back to the mirror, “Unlike you, Daiki found out about it accidentally and we weren’t on good terms before that when we were kids. He became nicer so you could say that we became friends because he pitied me.”

Atsumu blinks for a moment, taken aback by your explanation.

“Growing up, the anxiety would eat me up that Daiki’s friendship and feelings all stemmed because he pitied me. You could never build a decent relationship with that, it wouldn’t be healthy.” you continued then you turned to him, “Remember what I said to you then? How I felt when I was with you?”

Atsumu slowly nods.

“You didn’t pry and that was probably the best and worst thing you ever did throughout our relationship in college.” You smiled softly, “I was never ready to tell you then and you didn’t force me at all. You just kept staying and loving me without knowing anything to the point where I took advantage of it.”

“Y/N-” He dryly starts, knowing where this is going.

“I know I shouldn’t apologize but it was toxic, atsumu.” You softly said, laughing, “I’m really sorry.”

“Well you gave your forgiveness in the form of kids and being my wife until I die, I think it turned out pretty well in the end.”

You cast him a glare in which he immediately raises his two hands, “Hey, we both had our downplays in the relationship. We’re not perfect, sweetheart.” he reassures you as he walks up to you and grabs a hold of your hand with a wedding ring on it, “But we try to improve, learn,and be the best for each other and for those two brat- i mean kids. ”

He proceeds to entangle your fingers with his, “I don’t regret it, ya know.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I don’t regret hanging onto that girl who barely gave me the time of her day then. I don’t regret seeing ya on that random spring day where you give yourself heart palpitations or better yet, I don’t regret everything. I don’t regret any of that. I’d do that shit again if I get to be here now.” He reassures you, he never gets tired to remind you of that as he squeezes your hands.

You cut the serious moment with a laugh, Atsumu is happy these days because of how easy it is for you to be like this around him, “You’re batshit crazy.”

“I was expecting a confession too.” He feigned hurt, “You wound me, sweetheart.”

“You kind of are though.” You stop laughing,wiping the little tears on the side of your eyes, “You’re probably the only person who’d come back after that wretched heartbreak.”

“And you’re the only person who I’d do that to.” Atsumu sticks his tongue out as he tugs you to your shared bed, “Jus’ so ya know, Y/N. You’re impossibly hard to forget. If we never did end up together or if you ended up with Daiki, I think I’d focus on volleyball for the rest of my life.”

“I doubt it.”

Yet Atsumu doesn’t reply and just kisses your lips goodnight as he drags you back to bed, what you didn’t know was that he was telling the truth.

It was just you, the kids, and volleyball (and his brother).

taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm and thank you once again, coward wouldn’t be possible without all you people + other readers]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi ; @svtbitch ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii ; @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @intoomuchfandoms ; @yammmers ; @mx-minxx @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan ; @volleybloop ; @imcravingyou ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious ; @pinknugget @seikamuzu ; @marigoldthoughts ; @sillykittt ; @baejinoffcl ; @alluring-akaashi ; @bnhasstuff ; @intheawks ; @bokuakadaily ; @agaassi ; @yams046 ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15 ; @vermillionwaves ; @demursv1ogs ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch ; @simpingonothers ; @woo-youngs ; @cowward ; @chaelysian ; @sempiternal-amour ; @jungshookmeup ; @jovialnoise ; @karlitabi-rrito ; @iwaizluv ; @sugarandsoft ; @tspice283 ; @ohshirabu ; @syzygymai ; @volleybloop ; @oikaw-ugh ; @pockytokyo ; @differentballooncollection ; @keniloveshaikyuu ; @turquoiselace ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist ; @keijislut ; @notyourbitchboy

@misosamu @Etherynaw @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty @mikaashi @brownie0food @ph10xy @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

#haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x y/n #atsumu imagines

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years ago

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FroYO What The F&*% Is Up, Kyle? || Ariana & Kyle

TIMING: Before Kyle did Bex a big yikes PARTIES: @darkh0wl & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Just two wolves who sniffed each other out in a yogurt shop, as you do.

Okay, so maybe it was winter and maybe it was too cold for frozen yogurt. But a craving is a craving, so Kyle had to satisfy it. He headed down to Flagg’s Froyo, avoided the sticky tiles inside the shop, and found a table with his cup that was honestly more topping than yogurt. He leaned back in his chair, eating specifically the popping boba one at a time. Kyle closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the mouthfeel of boba, but he could smell...something. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what, but there was a familiar sort of smell. His brow furrowed as he breathed in deeper and looked around for the source of the smell.

The only reason her frozen yogurt hadn’t melted had to be due to the temperature alone. Even with talking through what she was feeling, Ariana still found visiting Chloe had left her feeling heavier. Like so many other effort she’d made to help others, it just seemed to crumble in her hands. At this point, she wasn’t sure which felt worse-- trying to help or not trying at all. She had stopped by here after class as a means of killing time. Athena was out at the sorority house planning some sort of event and the thought of just hanging around the apartment alone felt like too much. At least here, the constant thrum of background noise kept her somewhat stable. She stirred around her frozen yogurt with her spoon yet again and almost didn’t even pick up on the smell until it was practically hitting her in the face. Her head whipped up as she saw a guy not much older than her standing in front of her who was undoubtedly also a wolf. It was likely what drew him over to her to begin with. “You can sit,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, “I’m Ari. Take it your nose brought you this way?”

Kyle didn’t honestly know what his game plan was once he was already headed toward the other table. He didn’t know why he was following this scent or what it even was. Now that he was standing in front of this girl, he felt like a major creep, but she seemed excited. Kyle did as she said and sat across from her in a bit of a daze. She smelled so familiar. Like home in a way that Kyle hadn’t really experienced before. Sure, he’d smelled the same thing out and about before--in passing, on full moons, maybe on some patrons at the bar--but never in a context that meant anything. “Uh, I’m Kyle. What do you mean my nose brought me this way? How did you know?”

As Kyle took a seat with her, Ariana quirked a brow up. Almost immediately it was easy to tell he hadn’t met another wolf before. How new was he to this? Hopefully not quite as out of the loop as Luis. Even there, she wasn’t even sure how good her help did. She swirled some of the strawberry froyo around in the cup and shook her head. “Like, literally, your nose brought you here. It’s a wolf thing,” she said nonchalantly. Sure, this was serious, but she couldn’t beat around the bush. Not right now. It was too exhausting, but she did quickly add, “You do know what you are, right?”

The bold, blunt statement of, “It’s a wolf thing,” caught Kyle off guard. He couldn’t help the look of surprise that washed over his face. He hadn’t met another, he’d just sort of figured everything out on his own, trial and error style. Kyle set his cup of froyo toppings down and ran a hand through his hair. Was she--was Ari a wolf, too? Or how had she known? He sighed in mild annoyance. “Of course I know what I am. But how did you know? Are you--y’know, a wolf, too?” He paused for just a beat before adding, “Or are you, like, a mindreader?”

It was hard to keep a straight face as Kyle was clearly taken aback by her words. Ariana had never been so great at the whole beating around the bush thing. It didn’t help that it was also the exhausting route and she was already pretty tired. Then he was asking if she was a wolf or a mind reader and she shook her head. Oh, Kyle. She’d only just met him, but this felt like a very Kyle thing to do based on all the internet memes. “Both,” she said to him with a nearly convincing serious face before a smirk broke out. “Okay, just a wolf. But you made that way too easy.” If he couldn’t immediately discern she was also a wolf, she had the feeling he was still new to all of this. Or at least he hadn’t met other wolves before. “So, how long have you been-- well, you know?” She made a little claw motion with her hands as she asked the last part.

For a second, Kyle’s mouth hung open in surprise. A mind reader?! That was incredible, and already his mind was churning with a hundred questions. But then Ari was smirking and his excitement waned. “Wait, so you’re not a mind reader? Bummer. That sounds dope as hell.” The pieces were clicking together now. Why Kyle could smell her so well, why she smelled so familiar, and even why he felt so oddly at ease with her. He tried to shove that last feeling down. He was a lone wolf and no one was going to change that. “Oh, me? I’ve been a wolf since high school. But I’m kind of the only one I know. Or, I guess I was until I met you.” He shrugged, brow furrowing as he looked back down at his froyo. A creeping question lurked at the back of his mind. Would things be different if he’d met someone sooner? Would he have become a part of some kind of pack? The thought unsettled him in a way he couldn’t pin down, so he cleared his throat and began talking again. “What about you? How long have you been…?” he mimicked the claw motion with a hand, a smirk crossing his face now, too.

Ariana almost felt bad that Kyle had seemingly fallen for her joke about mind reading. As cool as that skill may have been, there was a lot she preferred not to know. That and the world was loud enough already. Especially closer to a full moon. She didn’t need the additional ruckus of other people’s thoughts filling her head. “No, definitely not a mind reader,” she said as she shook her head, “Wolves are cooler anyway.” As she took a bite of her lemon raspberry froyo she could see him beginning to understand. So, he wasn’t necessarily too new to this wolf thing, but new enough that he didn’t know others like them. “High school… how old are you now? Had to be a tough change to make during high school, but you seem to have a pretty good grip of the whole wolf thing.” At least as much as she could tell from their current setting. Hell, at least he knew what he was already and wasn’t trying to actively push her away. She found herself laughing a bit as he mirrored her own motions. “I was born a wolf,” she explained, “My parents were wolves, too. I didn’t really- It wasn’t until recently I actually got to meet others like us. I was pretty young when my parents died.” Murdered would have been a more accurate term, but Kyle seemed comfortable with her, it was probably best to not totally freak him out. “Have you been staying safe? Do you have a good place to spend the full moons?”

“Dang, I was starting to hope this whole being a wolf thing had the added bonus of mind reading. Like, maybe I just had to unlock more levels,” Kyle said, grinning. “You’re right, though. Wolves are cooler.” He took another bite of his topping cup and nodded along with what Ari was saying. She was right. It had been a hard transition in high school. He was just figuring himself out and then he had added being a wolf on top of it. It had shaped him, for better or worse, into sort of who he was now. “I’m 22,” he said and shrugged. “I feel like I have a pretty good hold on things. Give or take.” Take. It was definitely take, but he’d just met this wolf. He didn’t want her to know too too much. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. So Ari had had a long time to practice this whole wolf thing. Maybe that’s why she was so calm about talking about this over froyo. He had questions to ask about being born a wolf--he hadn’t even really thought about werewolves being born, though it made sense--but then Ari casually dropped it on him that her parents were dead. Any smile from his face slowly fell and he let his spoon sink back into his cup. “Oh-- I-- I’m sorry about your parents. I can’t imagine that’s easy, on top of being a wolf.” But she pressed on with questions, so Kyle did his best to oblige her. “What do you mean good place?” he asked. “I mean, I’m staying as safe as I can in a weird town like this. I’m kind of just...driving to the edge of town during a full moon, and I just roam the forest, you know? Usually, I make it all the way out of town, too.” Oops, had that been too much? She didn’t need to know how fragile his grip on control was. Not now.

So Kyle wasn’t too much older than she was, though she had kind of guessed as much. Ariana was eager to have another wolf that was her age to hang out with. Part of her immediately thought that Kyle and Luis would probably get along well. “Nice, I just turned 19 a few weeks ago,” she told him with a smile, “That’s pretty amazing. It’s always a give and take sort of thing, but easier to stay safe if you have a better grasp of the whole thing. I think really riding into it helps?” It was hard to control something you denied, which at least Luis was past that phase. She could tell Kyle seemed surprised she had been born a wolf. So, outside of being a wolf and her being the first one he’d met, he really wasn’t all that well versed in this stuff. That was okay, she’d fill him on everything he needed to know. Plus, she’d introduce him to the others which would give him a whole little community. She took another big bite of her yogurt before she realized he was apologizing. No matter how much she’d heard it, she was always thrown off. “Oh, it’s fin- I’m okay,” she assured easily, “My older sister had always taken good care of me. Don’t get me wrong, losing family sucks, but like, I’m okay. And I think the wolf stuff is a little easier if you don’t know anything else, you know?” Or, at least it felt like she was starting to be. She’d had plenty of time to grieve her parents, it was the more recent losses that seemed to haunt her recently, but she was healing. She was having more good days than bad and that was something, right? She shook those thoughts away and answered his question. “A good place far away from town where you can just be a wolf without worrying about others,” she explained, “It sounds like you have a pretty good setup in place though. Still, I wouldn't mind having someone to hang out with on the full moon. I go pretty deep out into the forest. I have a few different spots I rotate between to keep hunters from catching onto where I am. So if you wanted to join…” She didn’t want to force him, but she’d feel a lot more secure that the other wolves were staying out of trouble if they were together.

So, Ari was younger than Kyle and clearly in better control over the wolf thing. That made him feel unexpectedly bad, never mind that she had had way more time to gain control. He nodded along with what she said about embracing the wolf thing. “Yeah, I agree. The whole being ashamed of what I am thing, it’s--it’s not for me. I like being a wolf. It’s way cool.” He took another bite of his toppings, popping boba in his mouth one by one as he listened to Ari speak about her family. That was heavy. He wouldn’t be coping as well as she seemed to be, that was for sure. “Still,” he said, once his mouth was empty, “it’s not easy and I’m sorry you have to go through that. I’m glad you’re doing okay with it.” He balked at the offer to join her on a full moon. That wasn’t something he’d ever considered. What if he hurt her? It wouldn’t be intentional, sure, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a possibility. He barely knew her. How could he even be sure she wasn’t somehow working with hunters? That was a ridiculous thought, though. One that Kyle brushed aside as he considered her offer. “Uh,” he started. Did he want to say yes? Did he want to commit to something he was probably going to regret later? “I don’t know,” he said, his brows pulling together. “I think I’ve been doing pretty good by myself. I haven’t seen any hunters. I’ll think about it, though.” He wouldn’t think about it. Kyle had already made his decision, whether he would admit that to himself or not. He didn’t want to be connected to someone who could possibly count on him. Not now. The circumstances didn’t feel right. He was a lone wolf, and he didn’t want to change that now. Ari seemed nice enough, but he didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of someone else.

Ariana found okay to be a fairly relative thing. She’d had nearly sixteen years to cope with what had happened to her family. Even Celeste, Sammy, Winn… time had passed. There were still days where a memory or thought could throw her for a loop, but she could manage easier now. She could keep moving forward even though her life would no longer look like she had always pictured it. She could adjust, mostly because she had to. She’d always had to adjust in some way or another and grief, pain-- it wasn’t all that different except in the fact it was harder. “Thanks,” she said as she moved some mochi around with her spoon. She wasn’t sure what else to say so she eagerly awaited his answer about joining her on the full moon, only to be disappointed. For some reason, he’d rather spend the moon alone even though instinct seemed to pull them together. “Oh,” she started slowly, “I mean, I have too, just thought it’d be nice to spend it hunting together. See who can catch the biggest buck and all that.” She wasn’t sure why the rejection stung so she busied herself with her yogurt again momentarily. When she really thought about it, all she really wanted was to help and have it go well. She wanted to fulfill that purpose of bridging the supernatural worlds together in a way Celeste had started, but Celeste had always been so much better with people. What would she do? A joke to lighten the mood was all Ariana could come up with. “What,” she said with a smirk that felt forced, “You think I’ll slow you down or something?”

Kyle’s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t miss that Ari had genuinely wanted him to join her on the full moon. After what he’d done to his mother… He shuddered and tried to play it off by setting his spoon down and mumbling something about brain freeze. That bought him enough time to consider her request even more fully. He hadn’t known that other wolves hunted on the full moon. It made sense, but he hadn’t really considered it for himself. Would they eat the deer they took down? Kyle wrinkled his nose at the thought. “Do you eat the deer?” he asked, prodding at his frozen yogurt. That didn’t sound like the most appetizing way to go about things, but he didn’t want to judge Ari too harshly. “I’ve never hunted anything. I guess I’m almost worried you’d speed me up,” he said with a chuckle. “I usually just...run, I guess.” He didn’t really think about it, he just went to the forest and let himself go. He let himself forget all of his human worries and just be free. Most of the time, he was in the woods, anyway. Sometimes, he didn’t quite make it out of town. But even then, he just spent the night chasing rabbits or the occasional stray cat. He never caught them, but he had fun trying.

Ariana watched Kyle carefully as she tried to make sense of his body language. It seemed as if he was considering her offer at the very least though she couldn’t be too sure. As she set her own nearly finished yogurt down, confusion crossed her features. Her head tilted curiously and her eyes widened a bit that he asked if she ate the deer. The answer seemed obvious though when he mentioned he just ran, concern started brewing in her stomach. “Uhm, yeah,” she looked around carefully before lowering her voice to a whisper, “The full moon makes us kind of bloodthirsty and all. Better deer than the alternative. So, I fuck off deep into the forest and just let instinct take over.” The thought of just running didn’t quite add up to werewolf nature though and she had the feeling he wasn’t being entirely truthful with her. While she didn’t necessarily want to call him out and push him away when he likely needed her experience, she had to bring it up somehow. “You just… run,” she asked slowly. Her wide eyes didn’t do much to hide her disbelief as she started to fiddle with her spoon again. “That’s… I really think you should join me. I’d really enjoy the company and we’re kind of pack creatures by nature and all.” Her mind briefly thought of Luis who was also new to this and went through struggles she couldn’t quite understand. She sat up a little straighter and quickly added, “Actually, I have a friend I want you to meet. He’s-- well, he’s really new to all of this and trying to figure things out. Since I’ve always been like this, I kind of worry I can’t really relate to him as well as he needs, you know?”

Kyle had to take a moment to process that Ari ate the deer. He hadn’t eaten--...had he? The creeping realization that, in fact, he probably had eaten the stray cats and wild rabbits he chased made his stomach flip. He set the cup of yogurt down and nudged it away from himself. How many missing cat posters had been put up because of him? Kyle swallowed thickly and bit his lower lip. “I--I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t eat--or I didn’t think I ate things like that? Maybe I do? I don’t know. I’m not new new to this, but I don’t know if I’m the right candidate to--what did you say? Fuck off into the woods?” He didn’t know who this friend Ari spoke of was, but Kyle knew that he couldn’t relate to them either. He hadn’t exactly embraced pack life as much as he’d just embraced the idea of being a wolf. Ari had a point that they were social creatures by nature, but the thought of being so tied down in such a specific manner had Kyle feeling uneasy at best. “I guess I could meet your friend I--I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint, but I don’t think I’m any help, you know? You’re kind of the only wolf I’ve really met. I don’t have experience on that front. I don’t know that I could be relatable in the way he needs, I guess.”

There was no hiding the wide eyed look that crossed her face when Kyle said he didn’t think he ate things. Ariana knew that couldn’t be true, not when the full moon had such a hold over them that made them basically insatiable. Even with her memory of her full moons crystal clear, there was no denying the hold it had on her. How the hunt was the only thing that drove her during those midnight hours until she reached contentment and fell asleep cozily on the forest floor. “Right,” she said slowly, “You probably do eat things… it’s like-- the full moon makes us pretty much bloodthirsty and hungry, but not like, to each other. Pack instinct kind of kicks in there.” Her voice was low but her hushed tone was serious. The yogurt cup was long since forgotten on the table and she watched him carefully with concern in her eyes. “I think you two would get along. It’s not necessarily about tips, but it’s a pretty big life change to go through. Everyone could use someone who knows what they’re going through.” Really, Luis could use all the support he could get though now she found herself worried for Kyle, too. She noticed the sun was getting lower in the sky and glanced down at her watch before she fumbled in her bag to grab a pen and paper. She quickly scrawled down her number and told him, “This isn’t the best place to talk, but text me soon, okay? We can go for a hike if nothing else.” She only half meant that. She had every intention of working on wolf things with him, but she didn’t want to scare him off just yet. “I’m supposed to meet my girlfriend soon, but take care, okay? This town can be dangerous for people like us.”

#wickedswriting #kyle #froYO wtf is up kyle #parental death tw #sibling death tw #both tws are mentions

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shadowywerewolfqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Carry On

Here’s my nearly 10k fix it fic for Episode 18 Despair. Dean and Cas deserve a happy ending dang it! If you prefer, you can also read on AO3.

Tears were flowing down Cas’ face as he attempted a smile and said, “You changed me Dean.”

Dean could hardly process what Cas was saying. Billie was beating down the door and any second she would break through and kill them. Cas was just now telling him about a crazy deal he made with the Empty while also saying Dean was a selfless person and had changed him in the last decade they had known each other. The only thing he could think to say was, “Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Cas tilted his head slightly. “Because it is.” There was a brief pause before he said, “I love you.”

Dean blinked and clinched his jaw. There was no way Cas could tell him something so monumental at a time like this. They were staring Death in the face and Cas was telling him goodbye. He couldn’t tell Dean he loved him when Dean was holding on by a thread. Dean shook his head as he softly said, “Don’t do this, Cas.” “Please, not now, not when I’m about to lose you,” Dean thought.

Dean turned his head sharply when he heard a wet, sticky sound behind him. An inky black hole was forming in the wall. Dean could feel the tears building in his eyes as he watched the slimy tentacles starting to take form. He turned back to the angel, a thousand words on the tip of his lips. “Cas,” he gasped out.

Cas’ eyes were glistening blue as he reached out and laid his palm on Dean’s shoulder. “Goodbye Dean,” he said, his voice thick and full of emotion.

Dean’s eyes went wide. “What?” he asked as Cas shoved him out of the way and he fell to the floor. Dean rolled back against the wall as he stared at Cas. The angel flashed him one last watery smile before facing the Empty. Dean watched as Cas stood tall, a smile on his face as if he was embracing the cosmic entity coming for him. Black tendrils wrapped around Cas’ shoulders and waist before spreading over his whole body. Dean caught one last glimpse of Cas’ face before he was covered entirely in inky blackness and sucked towards the hole in the wall. In less than ten seconds, Cas was gone and Dean was alone.

Dean looked towards the empty spot where Cas had been standing only moments ago. He gasped out a breath, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. The angel who pulled him from Hell, the one who had been by his side for ten years, his best friend, the person he was in love with was gone. Once again, Cas had sacrificed himself for Dean.

Dean suddenly felt his phone vibrating. He pulled it out to see Sam calling, but he didn’t pick it up. He couldn’t because he had no words to say. He was alone and he was empty. He dropped the phone before letting his head rest against the wall behind him. He brought his hands up and scrubbed them over his face and through his hair as a sob escaped him.

The first sob broke the dam as Dean’s entire body was wracked with painful spasms as he felt his heart shatter in his chest. His entire life, he had tried to do the right thing. He had done his best to take care of Sam and protect him. He had tried to protect his mom and Bobby and Charlie and Jack and Jody and Donna and the whole damn world! He had never asked for anything in return, never wanted it. He knew he didn’t deserve it because as many good things as he had done, he had done twice as many bad. He had failed Sam, causing his brother to be killed, to be sent to the Cage, to become souless, to be taken over by an angel. It wasn’t just Sam Dean had failed, it was every person Dean had known. Mary, Bobby, Benny, Charlie, Kevin, Ellen, Jo, Rowena, they had all died either for or because of him. He had always known he was a monster just like the monsters he hunted. His entire life he had been filled with rage and anger, choosing to lash out at those he loved instead of letting them help him. Dean didn’t deserve anything, especially someone’s love.

And yet, a minute ago, Cas had said just that. Cas, a literal angel, had somehow fallen in love with Dean. Dean, who had taught him about free will and family and laughter and joy. But Dean had also gotten Cas killed, possessed, and had kicked him out of the only home he had ever known. For years, Dean had used Cas as his punching bag to take out his anger, frustrations, and fears on. For some reason, Cas always came back like a moth to a flame. Dean wasn’t a flame worth coming back to.

He knew that and that was why he had never admitted his own feelings. How could he? He was destruction incarnate and Cas was pure and shining and so bright it hurt Dean to look at him sometimes. For some reason, Cas had always stuck by Dean’s side from the moment he pulled him from Hell. He had always been the one willing to go with Dean whether it be a simple hunt or a suicide mission. At first Cas had just been another monster on the board but he had quickly moved to ally to friend to best friend to family and finally to the person Dean was in love with. And now, when the world was falling apart and Dean needed something to hold onto more than ever, he was gone.

Of course, Cas was always willing to bleed and sacrifice for the Winchesters, for Dean. In his final moments, instead of accusing Dean for bringing him into this mess in the first place, he had made a declaration. He had told Dean how he was the most loving and selfless person Cas has ever known. It was because of Dean that Cas had cared about Sam and Jack and the world. It was because of Dean that Cas had changed from Heaven’s soldier to Sam and Dean’s family. It was because of Dean that Cas had fallen in love. It was because of Dean that Cas had thought he could never have the hunter.

Dean had never told Cas how much he meant to him. Instead he had always kept Cas at arm’s length, choosing to treat him as just a friend. How could he blame Cas for never saying anything when Dean had always flirted with women any chance he got? When he always got angry and blamed Cas when things went wrong even if it wasn’t Cas’ fault. Even in his dying moments, when Cas had finally admitted his feelings, Dean had stared at him in silence, too overwhelmed to say anything back.

Dean continued to sit against the wall as his thoughts continued to swirl. Billie was dead, but so was Cas. Jack and Sam were alive, but Cas was dead. Chuck was still a threat, but Cas was dead. Dean was alive and in love with the angel, but Cas was dead. And Dean never said anything back.

Dean couldn’t, though. He was backed into a corner, surrounded on all sides by his enemies and hearing Cas’ speech and the thought of losing him all at once had been too much. He had been trying to figure out why Cas was saying goodbye in such a way. He was still trying to comprehend the idea that Cas saw him as anything other than a monster, how could he process the angel’s true feelings in seconds. Dean was never good at emotions, choosing to bottle them up until he lashed out. He had no other idea how to handle the strength at which he felt things.

He had wanted to say something back to Cas, to tell the angel how much he had changed Dean and how much Dean loved him right back, but he couldn’t. All he could do was beg Cas not to say something so huge when they were on the precipice of dying. He had hoped if he didn’t say it back, that maybe it would keep Cas from being taken from him. Because, he had lost Cas so many times before and couldn’t handle the thought of losing him again. But it didn’t matter. Apparently just telling Dean that he loved him was enough. Now, Cas was gone and Dean was alone.

Dean didn’t know how long he sat, wallowing in heartache. All he knew is he suddenly heard his name being called over and over. He didn’t even look up when he heard Sam and Jack’s footsteps echoing in the silence of the room.

“Dean! Dean, what happened?” Sam asked as he came to a stop in front of his brother.

Dean shook his head, unable to say anything.

“Dean,” Sam said hesitantly. “Where’s Billie?”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut even tighter than what they were. He just shook his head, knowing that if he said anything, the few pieces he was holding together would crumble.

“What about Cas? What happened to him?” Sam asked insistently. Dean stayed silent. “Dean, please, what happened? Where is Billie and Cas?”

“THEY’RE GONE!” Dean finally shouted. “BILLIE IS DEAD! And so is Cas,” Dean added, the fight draining from his body. He looked at his brother, tears blurring the outline of Sam’s face. “Cas knew of a way to kill Billie, so the stupid angel sacrificed himself like he always does.”

“No, no. Cas, he can’t be gone,” Jack said disbelievingly, his face crumbling.

Dean looked at Jack and he didn’t know if he wanted to hug him or kill him. “It was because of his deal with the Empty. He used it to bring the Empty so that it- so that it could take Billie as well.” He watched as Jack’s eyes widened in understanding.

“It’s all my fault. Cas is gone because of me,” Jack said, folding in on himself.

Dean wanted to snarl back and say Jack was right. He wanted to punch the kid for allowing Cas to make such a deal. He wanted to wish Jack had never been born and then they wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. As he watched Jack fall to the ground and tears pour down his face, Dean knew the kid was just a victim as much as the rest. “No, it’s not,” he said, his voice carrying in the silence.

Jack looked at him. “How can you say that? Cas made that deal to-to…”

“To save you. To save his kid,” Dean replied with a nod of his head. He looked at Sam, his brother’s eyes shining with unshed tears. He focused back on Jack. “Look, we’ve all made stupid deals to save the people we love. Sam and I are experts at it and Cas learned from the best. I sold my soul to bring Sam back from the dead. Sam let people suffer to turn me back into a human. Giving himself to the Empty to save you was an easy decision for-for… for Cas. You and Cas are family, Jack, and there isn’t a single Winchester who hasn’t made a stupid deal to save someone they love.” Dean pushed himself to his feet and walked over to Jack. He helped the man to his feet before clutching Jack’s shoulder. “Cas… died to protect you. The least we can do now is make sure that his death means something.” He wiped at his eyes and sniffled one last time. “Chuck is still out there and it’s our job to get rid of him. We’ve got work to do.”

“Dean, what was the deal?” Sam asked.

Jack looked between the two brothers before answering, “The Empty would come for him when he was truly happy.”

Sam swallowed thickly before locking gazes with his brother. “What made Cas?” He started to ask.

“Don’t,” Dean barked. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. He couldn’t talk about Cas’ deal, couldn’t tell Sam and Jack that being in love with Dean brought Cas such joy. If he did, what little bit of his heart was left would shatter and turn into dust. He had to suck it up and bury it because Chuck was still out there, and they had people to save. He took a shuddering breath before saying, “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone. There are people who aren’t. Did you get everybody to the safe house?”

He watched as Sam’s face fell. Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times before dropping his eyes and replying, “It didn’t matter. It wasn’t Billie. It was Chuck, and they’re gone. They’re all gone.”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “Everybody from the Apocalypse world?”

“No,” Jack said softly.

Dean spun to his head to look at Jack. “What?” Dean asked confusedly.

“It’s not just them. It’s everybody Dean. Donna, Jody, the whole world. I think we’re the only ones left,” Jack explained.

Dean reeled back as if slapped. He grabbed at the single chair to keep from falling to his knees. “No. No, that- that’s impossible. We can’t be.” He looked at Sam, begging his brother to tell him it was some cruel joke. Sam’s refusal to answer was answer enough.

“Sam and I, there was nothing we could do. They just vanished… right in front of our eyes,” Jack described.

Dean gripped the chair so tight his knuckles turned white. He felt something building in him, anger and fury and pain and despair all rolled into one. With a raging snarl, he threw the chair across the room causing Jack and Sam to jump. Without another word, Dean stormed from the room.

He walked straight to the garage where Baby was parked. He grabbed the keys and slid into her front seat. He quickly backed her out of the garage before speeding away from the bunker. He was numb, his mind silent in the aftermath of everything that had happened. It was too much to comprehend, and he knew if he focused on any one thing, he would be overwhelmed.

He drove for minutes until he came to an empty field. He parked Baby and stumbled out of the car. He walked a few feet away before looking up at the sky. “CHUCK! YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

He took multiple deep breaths, trying to keep the tears from falling. “YOU WANT AN ENDING? WELL, I’M RIGHT HERE! I’LL GIVE YOU AN ENDING! COME AND KILL ME LIKE YOU’VE ALWAYS WANTED, BUT BRING EVERYBODY ELSE BACK YOU BASTARD!”

Dean couldn’t hold the tears back any longer as he fell to his knees. He sniffled as the drops rolled down his cheeks. He reached up to wipe them away, his hand dragging across his shoulder. He froze when he felt something wet and cold. He looked at his shoulder and sobbed as he pulled the jacket from his frame and stared at the bloody handprint.

“Please, please, just bring them back. Bring everybody back, including Cas, and you can have me. It’s always been me you’ve wanted so here I am. Just bring them back, bring Cas back,” Dean said softly to the empty field, his voice full of emotion.

“My father isn’t going to be drawn out like that.”

Dean snapped his head up to see Michael standing in front of him. He glared at the celestial being. “What are you doing here?”

Michael smirked. “It seems that you’re losing the fight against my father.”

Dean scoffed. “At this point, I think he’s won. Sam, Jack, and I? What can three powerless humans do against a celestial being such as God? He’s not some Pagan god that can be killed with a stake or some vampire that just needs its head chopped off. He’s the God, the Almighty, the creator of the frigging universe.”

“You’re right on most of those,” Michael said as he moved closer.

Dean tilted his head. “What the hell does that mean?”

Michael grinned. “What happened when you killed Death? The first time?”

Dean looked at Michael like he was crazy. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just answer the question.”

“The next reaper that died turned into Death. So, what? You want me to go kill another reaper and have a new Death? I’m not too keen on meeting a new Death right now,” Dean snapped.

Michael huffed. “What about a new Darkness? The universe can’t exist very long without certain cosmic entities. Death, the Empty, God, and the Darkness. When one dies, they must be replaced or else the universe will fall out of balance.”

Dean squinted his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“God killed his sister. Even he can’t be both light and dark, whether he wants to or not. If Death dies and the next reaper becomes Death, what do you think turns into the next Darkness or even God himself for that matter?” Micahel asked.

Dean shook his head as he started piecing Michael’s riddles together. “You’re saying that Jack is now the Darkness?”

“You’re not as dumb as you look, you know? Yes, my nephew is the new Darkness. You actually have quite the playing card now.”

“So Jack can kill Chuck? If he does, who’s the new God? You?” Dean asked bitterly.

“Would that be so bad?” Michael questioned.

“Oh I don’t know. You were the one trying to wear me around for a meat suit so you could start the Apocalypse which would have destroyed the world. Not too sure if you can handle that much power,” Dean said angrily.

Michael seemed to ponder what the hunter said. “You’re right, I did. But that was before I spent quite a while locked up in the cage. I was once the ruler of Heaven, and I wasn’t that bad at it. I don’t have the same loyalty to my father that I did then.” He paused before adding, “My father needs to die. He has gone too far this time. I think my nephew and I could make a much better world.”

“So, you and Jack kill God and then we kill you so you become God? And how the hell do I know this isn’t going to backfire all over again?” Dean looked at the archangel, barely an ounce of trust in him.

“I’ve never had a need to help you and yet I have. Besides, I know how to bring Castiel back,” Michael replied.

Dean looked at the coat still clutched tightly in his hands, the handprint the only thing he had left of Cas. He clenched his jaw, wanting to just say yes, so they could kill Chuck once and for all. “You have to ask Sam and Jack. This is as much their decision as mine.”

Michael cocked his head slightly. “You have changed. The Dean Winchester I knew years ago wouldn’t have hesitated at making this deal. You’re not that brash anymore it seems.”

Dean dragged a finger over the bloody handprint. “People change I guess.” He forced himself to his feet, clutching the jacket as if it was a lifeline. He started walking back towards his car.

“Where are you going?”

Dean looked over his shoulder. “I’m not leaving my Baby in the middle of some field.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “I will never understand your obsession with this car. Even Adam is fond of it.”

Dean’s lips curved up in a small smile. “Yeah, well, she’s pretty damn special.”

Before he could say anything else, Michael put a finger to his forehead. The next moment they were standing at the map table in the bunker. “The car is in the garage,” Michael said.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Sam barked out.

Dean fell into a seat, still refusing to let go of the jacket. “Michael has something to say.”

Sam and Jack were speechless after hearing Michael’s speech. The archangel looked at his nephew. “We have the chance to stop my father. Together we can undo everything. We can bring everybody back, set the world right.”

Jack looked at Sam who had stiffened at Michael’s words. It was obvious he was thinking about Eileen. He glanced at Dean who was staring at the jacket, his last piece of Cas he had. He focused back on Michael. “Are you sure we can bring everybody back?”

“Every human my father made disappear we can bring back with the snap of our fingers,” Michael confirmed.

Jack tilted his head. “Every human. What about Cas?”

Michael was silent for a moment before replying, “I can’t bring Cas back; the Empty won’t allow me to do so.”

Dean saw red as he lurched to his feet. He dropped the coat on the table and stormed towards the archangel. He had both fists twisted up in his shirt and the angel slammed against the wall as he growled, “YOU SON OF A BITCH! You said you could bring him back!”

Michael clenched his jaw as he stared at the hunter. “I said I know of a way to bring him back.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean asked, shoving against the angel even harder.

“It means I can’t bring him back and neither can Jack… but you can. Help me defeat my father, and I will tell you how,” Michael replied.

Dean glared at the man in front of him. Every fiber of his being was shaking with barely contained fury. He wanted to shove an angel blade into Michael’s stomach and see the man squirm. He suddenly released Michael and dropped his fists from the angel’s shirt. He grabbed Cas’ coat and stalked off to his bedroom.

He slammed the door shut before dropping heavily onto the bed. Cas was wrong. There was nothing good about Dean, nothing worth loving. Dean got everybody he loved killed and it had just been proven again. Because of Cas’ love for Dean, it had caused the Empty to take him away. How could he think Dean was caring and selfless when all Dean did was hurt the ones around him? Cas should have just let Billie kill Dean like she wanted to.

Dean felt a tear fall down his cheek as he absentmindedly stroked the coat. “Cas, how could you think you could never have… me? You’ve always had me. I love you, I’ve always loved you.” He jerked when there was a knock on his door.

“Dean,” Sam said as he slowly pushed the door open.

Dean gripped the coat tighter, not even bothering to hide from his brother. Sam took a seat next to him on the bed and laid a hand on his left shoulder. Dean flinched, and Sam dropped his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly.

Dean didn’t look up as he asked, “For what?”

“For Cas.”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not the only one that lost him. He was your friend, too, and Jack’s dad. I should be asking how you’re doing.”

“No, Dean, you shouldn’t. You don’t have to take care of us right now or protect us. We’ve all lost people,” Sam said with a shaky breath.

Dean looked at his brother. “How are you doing? After Eileen, I never even asked.”

Sam took in a deep breath and wiped at the corner of his eye. “I’m trying not to think about her because if I do, I can’t do the job. I loved her Dean and if this whole plan doesn’t work… I’m just hoping it does. How are you doing? I know how much Cas meant to you, even if you never said anything.”

Dean had always pushed people away, but he decided that he couldn’t do that any longer. “It was my fault Sammy. I-I was his- his true happiness.”

Sam huffed out a breath. “You don’t think I don’t know that. The two of you have been walking around each other and hiding looks of longing for years.”

Dean clenched his jaw as he stared at the dried up handprint. “He said his true happiness was something he always wanted but couldn’t have. He said he realized that happiness wasn’t in having but in feeling and in saying.” He looked at his brother and said, “Cas said he loved me and I- I… I didn’t get a chance to say it back.”

Sam gasped at the admission. “Wow. Dean, I can’t believe he said that.”

“I know. I don’t really deserve it, do I?” Dean asked, self-deprecating.

“What, no? Of course you do! Dean, you have done so much for this world and for the people you love. You deserve to have someone love you. I found Eileen, so of course you deserve to find someone. Hell, Cas found you a decade ago. Even after everything we’ve all been through, Cas has always been there for you. He’s always loved you Dean, and you deserve that more than any of us,” Sam insisted.

Dean shook his head. “How can you say that? Look at every bad decision I’ve ever made. Look at what my decisions have brought this world.”

Sam gripped Dean’s forearm tightly. “It wasn’t just your decisions. It was yours, mine, Cas’, Jack’s. It’s like you said, Winchesters are infamous for making bad decisions. But those decisions were made out of love Dean. They were made because we were trying to protect each other and the world. Cas made his deal to protect Jack, and he’s gone because he was protecting you. I just can’t believe Cas finally admitted how he felt for you. I wasn’t sure either of you ever would.”

“He’s gone Sam. What do we do? What do I do?” Dean asked with despair.

“We let Jack and Michael save the world and then we get Cas and Eileen and everybody else back. We get the ending we deserve,” Sam replied.

Dean stood to his feet and helped Sam to his before pulling his brother into a tight hug. “Let’s go kill this son of a bitch and get that happy ending.”

Dean put his jacket back on before the two of them walked back to the map table. Michael and Jack looked up as they walked back in. “What’s everybody standing around for? We’ve got God to kill,” Dean said.

“Jack and I were talking, and we think that the best plan is to just go for the kill. No traps and no sneak attacks, we go after my father head on,” Michael explained.

Dean and Sam nodded. “Sounds good. So, where is it all gonna go down?”

“My father is currently at some decrepit barn in the middle of Nevada. Sam and Dean, you need to make your way there. I need to teach Jack a few things about his new powers and there are a few weapons we need to collect. We will meet you there in three days,” Michael said as he looked between the two brothers.

“What barn?” Sam asked.

“One that Dean is quite familiar with,” Michael answered, causing Dean’s face to pale.

Dean’s hand covered the print on his jacket. “Bastard,” he muttered.

Sam looked at his brother, confused. “Dean, what does a barn have to do with anything?”

“It’s where I first met Cas,” he said stoically. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve got work to do. Sam, go pack a bag and meet me in the garage in ten minutes. Jack, Michael, go do what you gotta do. We’ll see you in three days.”

Jack and Michael disappeared with a flap of wings and Sam walked down the hallway to his room. Dean headed back to his bedroom and quickly packed a bag, not really caring what clothes he grabbed. Once he was down, he started walking towards the garage. He stopped when he passed by Cas’ bedroom. He pushed the door open slowly before walking inside.

The room was sparsely decorated, nothing more than a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. The walls were bare and if Dean didn’t know better, he would say nobody had been inside for years. He sat on the bed and ran his hand down the blanket. He glanced at the nightstand and saw something he recognized. He picked the tape up and smiled, happy that Cas still had the only gift Dean had ever given him. He slipped it in his pocket before pulling the top drawer of the nightstand open, surprised to see a few pictures lying on top.

He pulled them out and looked through them. There was one of Sam, one of Jack, one of Dean, and one of Dean and Cas sitting at the kitchen table. They each held a glass of whiskey in their hand and had bright smiles on their faces. Looking at the picture, it was obvious how Dean and Cas felt about each other. Dean had a soft look in his eyes as he stared at Cas, and Cas was looking at Dean like he hung the moon. Dean pulled his wallet out and slipped the picture inside.

He headed out to meet Sam in the garage. They loaded their stuff up in Baby’s trunk before sliding into the front seat. Dean pulled the tape out of his pocket and pushed it into the tape slot. If Sam noticed what was written on the tape, he didn’t say anything. Dean turned the car on and pulled her out of the garage.

The next three days were spent mostly in silence between the two brothers, both of them consumed by their own thoughts. They were sitting in an abandoned hotel room when Michael and Jack suddenly showed up. Michael dropped a bag on Sam’s bed.

“There are weapons in that bag that will help you in the oncoming battle. They can’t kill my father, but they can wound him. If you can distract him, Jack and I will be able to kill him,” Michael explained.

Sam grabbed the bag and pulled a few weapons from it. There were two knives and two guns. He passed one of each to Dean before asking, “What makes these special? Where did you have them?”

“In Heaven of course. There is no way such weapons would be allowed on Earth. They are far too dangerous,” Michael snapped. He stood against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

Jack took a seat next to Sam. “They are imbued with archangel grace and even a bit of God’s powers himself. I’ve added some strength to them as well. Michael’s been helping me understand and control my powers. He took me to a pocket dimension where time passed differently than it does here. I’ve got a pretty good hang on things now.”

“That’s awesome! Maybe we really can win this,” Sam said enthusiastically.

“Yeah, let’s hope this will all be enough. Even if it is, Chuck’s gonna know about it. We have no element of surprise,” Dean pointed out.

“Actually we do. I made sure to cloak the two of you from my father before we left. He’s not very happy that he hasn’t been able to pinpoint you. Tomorrow we will face him as he is growing more agitated by the moment. If we don’t do something soon, he will end this world before we even have a chance to save it. I hope the two of you are ready. I will be back in the morning.” With that, Michael was gone.

“He’s got wonderful people skills doesn’t he?” Dean asked with a laugh.

“Well, he was locked in the cage for nearly ten years straight Dean. We’re lucky he’s even willing to do this at all,” Sam pointed out.

Dean shrugged and looked at Jack. “Do you trust him? Does he really want Chuck dead?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, he does. Chuck hurt him too. If it wasn’t for him, I’d have no idea how to handle my powers. I’m more powerful now than when I was just a Nephilim. We have a chance of beating God.”

“Well, if you trust him, then that’s enough for me. I guess we better all get some shut eye. We’ve got God to kill in the morning,” Dean said.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, Dean’s right. Jack, do you still need sleep?”

Jack shook his head. “No. I’ll watch over you guys while you sleep.”

Dean felt a pang in his chest at the kid’s words. He kicked his boots off and slid under the covers as he said, “You don’t have to do that. There’s nobody to protect us from.”

“I know. I just… it’s what Cas always did when we were on a hunt together,” Jack replied, his shoulders slumping.

Sam frowned at his brother. Dean sighed, realizing that Jack was just trying to follow in Cas’ footsteps. “I’m sorry kid. You’re right, Cas would do that. I guess it would be ok if you did too.”

Jack’s face lit up as he smiled. “Thanks Dean. I promise nothing is gonna happen to you guys.”

Dean grinned. “We know, we know.”

Everyone was up early the next morning. Dean and Sam were dressed with the weapons Michael had given them the previous morning hidden somewhere on them. Jack had used his powers to conjure up some food and they were eating silently when Michael showed up.

He surveyed the room, his gaze flicking from Dean to Sam to Jack. “Are you ready?”

Dean shoved the last bite of his burrito in his mouth and then followed with the last of his coffee. He wiped his hands on his jeans before standing up and saying, “Let’s get this over with.”

Michael nodded. “Can we skip the theatrics of you driving up in your car this time with the radio blaring?”

Dean fingered the tape that was now nestled in his jacket pocket. “Yeah, sure.”

With a snap of his fingers, Jack teleported them to just outside the barn that Dean knew like the back of his hand. He stared at the walls, covered in sigils on the outside and the inside. He gripped the tape harder as memories of that night came flooding back.

“Wow, you and Bobby were prepared for everything,” Sam remarked.

Dean thought about Cas busting through the doors and walking towards him and Bobby unfailingly as they continued to shoot at him. He remembered how the shingles had shuttered and the lights had blown, Cas just showing off his power for the hell of it. He remembered how Cas had so easily knocked Bobby out and had pulled the demon blade from his chest as if it were nothing more than a splinter. Dean’s lips curved up in a half smile. “Not even close Sammy. Not even close to being prepared for Cas.”

“Are you prepared now?” Michael asked.

Dean’s fingers itched to wrap around the hilt of the knife that was hidden up his shirt sleeve. “Let’s gank this son of a bitch.”

All three men nodded as Jack held his hand out and blasted the front doors of the barn. They walked through the clearing dust to see Chuck standing in the middle of the barn, a condescending grin on his face. “Well, look who finally showed up. I guess now I know why I lost track of you two flannel clad idiots.” His gaze travelled to Michael. “You were supposed to be the loyal one, and yet, here you are. My own son is working against me.”

Dean felt the archangel tense next to him. “I was loyal to you! For millions of years I tried to do the job you assigned me, but you left Father! You abandoned me to go create other worlds, other versions of me! Even though I was loyal and followed all orders, you favored Lucifer! Any loyalty I had to you is gone.”

“Lucifer always did make things more interesting. You were always so… so boring in your blind faith to me. You were my blunt little instrument just like Dean was. It really is no wonder why he was supposed to be your perfect vessel. Oh well, I let Lucifer die, I’ll have no problem killing you as well,” Chuck said, completely uncaring.

Jack stepped up in front of all of them. His eyes flashed gold as he said, “You will not kill anyone! I won’t allow it any longer.”

Chuck’s face contorted into one of rage. “You! You took my sister’s power from me! The little Nephilim that wasn’t even supposed to exist! You were never in my stories and you’ve been a pain in my ass ever since!”

Jack faltered. “You never wrote me?”

“No, because you were never meant to be here. We were never meant to make the decisions that led to your birth,” Sam said as he stepped up next to Jack. “It was Cas’ decision that brought you into this world. It was my decision to raise you after you were born. It was Dean’s choice not to kill you in that graveyard. We were the ones that Chuck has never been able to control and it was our choices that led to you, not his writing.”

“You know, it wasn’t just Castiel that came off the line with a crack in his chassis. It was all of you! You used to be my favorites, but now you’re just a pain in my ass,” Chuck growled.

“Yeah, well, it’s what we’re good at,” Dean said lowly before pulling the knife from his sleeve and throwing it at Chuck. He watched in satisfaction as the blade lodged itself deep in God’s shoulder.

Chuck’s face contorted as he hollered out in pain. White light burst from the wound as he pulled the blade from his shoulder and let it drop to the ground. “You wanna die Dean, I’ll make sure you die,” he shouted. He snapped his fingers and Dean waited for pain but nothing happened.

“You won't hurt Dean or Sam, not as long as I’m around,” Jack said with pride.

Before Chuck had a chance to recover, Michael was charging forward, a lance held in his hand. Sam pulled his own knife out and threw it, watching as it sunk into Chuck’s stomach. Using the distraction to his advantage, Michael struck at his father with his lance, the blade drawing a long gash across Chuck’s shoulder.

Dean and Sam pulled their guns out and started firing bullet after bullet into the comic entity. With every bullet that buried itself in Chuck’s body, he grew weaker as more light flowed from the wounds. Jack pulled an angel blade from his sleeve and charged forward, swiping at Chuck every chance he got. Chuck suddenly swiped his hand, sending Dean and Sam flying against the walls. He then grabbed Michael by the arm and threw him across the barn and through the walls. He wrapped his hand around Jack’s throat and squeezed.

“I am God! Do you really think you can beat me?” He held his free hand out to the side, Dean and Sam lifting into the air. “I might not be able to kill you two, but I can still hurt you.” He let them drop, the two of them falling nearly twenty feet through the air. They landed with grunts and moans of pain.

“SAM, DEAN,” Jack shouted. He looked at Chuck, his eyes glowing a deep gold. “NO! You will not hurt them or this world any longer!” He shot a bolt of darkness straight into Chuck’s chest.

Chuck dropped Jack, grasping at his chest. “You can’t, if you do, you destroy this world!”

Jack stood to his full height, his shoulders pulled back as he stared at his grandfather. “I’m not like you! I intend to fix this world! I’m a Winchester and we save people and hunt things, that’s the family business. Goodbye Chuck.” He let more smoky bolts shoot from his hands into Chuck’s body until God was consumed by them.

Sam and Dean watched through pain filled eyes as Chuck’s body was enveloped in black smoke. Tendrils of light could be seen twisting and cutting through the smoke, as if trying to escape its clutches. Jack walked up and slid his hand into the darkness and the light slowly entered his fingers and travelled up his hand. Jack’s whole body glowed as he consumed the light until there was nothing left. When he turned to look at Sam and Dean, one eye was black and the other a bright gold.

“He’s gone,” Jack said happily. He rushed over to Sam and Dean, kneeling next to them and reaching out to heal them. They let out relieved gasps as pain was no longer flooding their bodies. Jack helped them to their feet before pulling them into tight hugs. “Chuck is dead,” he announced again.

Dean cupped Jack’s cheek as he stared at his son, pride swirling in the depths of his eyes. “Good job son. You did it.” He pulled Jack in for another hug.

Jack wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and buried his head in the older man’s chest. “Thanks Dean.” Sam came up behind them and pressed his chest to Jack’s back. The three of them reveled in the moment.

“I hate to break up this bonding moment, but we’re not quite done here. Jack, you know what you have to do,” Michael said from behind them.

The three men broke apart to stare at the archangel. Jack pulled away from the two men and walked up to Michael. “You’re sure this is going to work?” he asked hesitantly.

Michael nodded once. “If it doesn’t, you can just bring me back and we’ll try again.”

Jack took a deep breath before holding both hands up and cupping either side of Michael’s head. Sam and Dean watched as Michael’s eyes and mouth glowed white and he let out a howling scream. The next instant, he dropped to the ground.

They all watched Michael’s body, waiting with bated breath to see what would happen. Without warning, Jack’s body started glowing and then the light began spilling from him into Michael’s prone form. Once the last speck of light had flowed into Michael, he took a deep breath and then struggled to his feet. His eyes flashed blue before settling back to their normal color.

“Well?” Sam asked.

Michael held his hands up and stared at them before looking at the three men. “It worked. I am God now.”

Dean’s face was set in a hard line as he said, “Are you gonna keep your word? Are you gonna bring everybody back?”

Michael held his hand out to Jack who took it. Their eyes flashed colors before they snapped their fingers at the same time. They dropped hands quickly. Jack looked at Sam and Dean with a bright smile. “It’s done! Everyone is back!”

Sam’s phone started ringing and he pulled it out, his jaw dropping. He shakily accepted the call. “Eileen,” he gasped out. Tears sprung to his eyes and a smile spread across his lips. He looked at Dean and nodded his head.

Dean smiled back and then focused his attention on Michael. “Cas.”

“I can pull my brothers and sisters from the Empty to help restore Heaven, but Castiel is not one of them because he’s not dead. The Empty has him locked away where even I can’t reach him. The Empty was angry because Castiel woke him up, and he wanted to get back at my brother for that. Now that he has Castiel, he has fallen back asleep. He might be convinced to give my brother up if his sleep is once again disturbed. I can give you a spell that will allow you to summon the Empty to Earth as many times as you want. You do have a way of pissing people off to get what you want,” Michael said with a smirk. He swiped his hand and a rolled up scroll appeared. He gave it to Dean and then conjured a bag which he also handed over. “There’s enough ingredients in there to summon the Empty at least a dozen times. If you need more, just let me know.”

Dean took the items silently. He looked at the spell and then inside the bag, confirming everything Michael had just told him. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Thank you but why? You don’t owe me anything.”

“You helped me get what I wanted. The least I can do is help you get what you want. I know I said we don’t always get what we deserve, but I think this one time we all deserve that chance. Now, I have some things to start taking care of. Goodbye Dean.”

“Goodbye Michael,” Dean said softly as the archangel walked over to Jack.

He watched Sam still talking to Eileen and Michael and Jack were now deep in conversation. Dean gripped the scroll and bag tighter before walking outside the barn. He walked deep into the abandoned corn field. He didn’t stop until the barn could barely be seen over the brown stalks.

He spent the next ten minutes setting up the summoning circle and preparing the ingredients as described. He pulled a knife from the bag and cut his palm, squeezing his hand so that blood dripped onto the circle below. He watched dispassionately as a familiar black ooze appeared in front of him. The ooze bubbled upwards and formed into a familiar figure. Dean stared at the entity before him who was wearing Meg’s face.

Her face twisted into rage as she snarled, “Who are you? Why have you summoned me here? I’m supposed to finally be asleep!”

“Bring Cas back,” Dean demanded.

The Empty’s lip curled up. “NO! No, I will not give you that pesky angel back! We had a deal, and I don’t intend to go back on it.”

“You don’t give him back and I’ll do this all over again,” Dean said.

The Empty’s eyes widened. “You dare threaten me!”

Dean stepped to the edge of the circle. “There is nothing you can do to me inside that circle. So, go ahead, go back to sleep. I’ll just summon you again and again and again until you release Cas. You want sleep, then give me my angel back!”

Meg growled and snarled and kicked at the dirt beneath her feet. “No! No, you can’t do this! I am eons old, and I will not be bested by some human.”

“Bring Cas back,” Dean reiterated.

The Empty said nothing, just disappearing. Dean huffed but pulled out more ingredients and performed the summoning a second time. He watched in satisfaction as the Empty glared at him. “Bring Cas back.”

“You’ll run out of ingredients soon enough,” Meg said before disappearing.

Dean performed the summoning again. “Actually Michael, the new God, said he’ll keep supplying me until the end of time. So, keep disappearing and I’ll keep summoning you. Now, bring Cas back!”

Meg paced the circle like a caged tiger, snapping and snarling every so often. Dean knew he had the entity cornered and he was just waiting for the Empty to realize it as well. He watched with a smirk as the woman in front of him finally spun to face him.

“Fine,” she bit out. “You want your precious angel, you can have him… but on one condition. I’ll give the angel back, but he won’t be an angel any longer. I refuse to be woken up by him ever again.”

Dean paled. “What?”

Meg chuckled darkly. “I’ll give him up, but he’ll be human. And you make the decision, so how badly do you want Castiel back? Are you willing to make such a choice for him? Are you really so afraid of being alone that you would take the one thing from Castiel that makes him special?”

Dean stepped back, his jaw clenching as he swallowed thickly. He dropped his eyes, unable to stare at the being in front of him. He slipped his tongue out to lick his suddenly dry lips.

“I can’t. I can’t take being an angel away from Cas. I won’t make that choice for him. I did it for Sam and look how that backfired. Cas is an angel and I’m just a pathetic human. Even if he’s locked in the Empty, he’s still an angel. I don’t want to be alone; I don’t want to be without Cas, but I won’t take his wings from him. I won’t make one more bad decision and have Cas hate me.” Dean’s thoughts swirled around his head.

Dean started to say something when another voice filtered through his head. “Every choice you did was for love. You are selfless and caring. You love so much. You’re not the monster you see yourself as. I love you.”

“I love you Cas, and I’m gonna make one more decision out of love,” Dean whispered to himself softly. He looked at the Empty. “Bring Cas back.”

Meg laughed. “When he hates you for the pain he’s about to experience, just know it’s all your fault. I have him locked away in darkness, experiencing nothing. You’re about to make him experience torture the likes of which you can never imagine.”

Dean felt his heart stop and was about to say something, but then a shape started forming next to the Empty. He watched with bated breath as the shape took form, and then Cas was standing in front of him.

Cas’ eyes focused on Dean, confusion clouding them. “Dean?” he asked softly.

“Cas,” Dean whispered letting out the breath he had been holding.

“Remember,” Meg said darkly.

Dean watched as Cas let out the most agonizing scream he had ever heard. It pierced his ears and shattered his soul. Dean felt every bone in his body shaking as Cas started writhing, screams still falling from his lips. He watched as Cas’ body contorted in ways a body wasn’t meant to, as Cas started clawing at his arms and face. Dean wanted to reach out, to do something, but he was frozen, a vice like grip on his heart keeping him from moving. Cas fell to his knees, his body rippling in painful spasms and his voice wrecked from all the screams. His back bowed, and Dean watched as bright blue light filled Cas’ eyes and mouth.

Finally, Cas fell to the ground in a heap. The Empty stood over him laughing in glee and Dean’s heart was beating out of his chest. His gaze remained locked on Cas’ prone form as he fell to his knees.

“Well, that was more entertaining that I thought. I think that was better than having the angel caught in my grasp for eternity. Now, will you please leave me the hell alone so I can finally sleep?” the Empty snapped before disappearing.

Dean barely noticed Meg leaving, his eyes still staring at Cas’ trench coat clad form. He had tears rolling down his eyes, but he made no move to wipe them away. He finally dropped his eyes, not having a clue what to say to the man in front of him. He had just caused Cas unimaginable pain and for what? Dean had chosen to let Cas go through something so horrible because he couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without him.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Cas said, his voice scratchy and broken.

Dean’s head snapped up to see Cas looking at him. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and he slowly crawled closer to where Cas was. He stopped a foot away. “You don’t know what I’m thinking,” he said, his voice full of tears.

Cas forced himself to sit up, his face twisting as pain surged through his body. “You’re regretting whatever choice you just made to bring me back. I can see the despair in your eyes Dean. You’re blaming yourself for reasons I don’t know.”

Dean huffed out a breath as the tears continued to fall. “You’re not an angel anymore and it’s my fault. All that pain… it was my fault.”

Cas shuffled closer until he could reach out and grab Dean’s trembling hand. He squeezed as he said, “Why did you bring me back?”

Dean took a shaky breath. “Because I can’t be without you. I don’t do well when you’re not here. I need you Cas; I need you.” Dea paused and then held his hand out and cupped Cas’ cheek. “How could you think that what you wanted you couldn’t have? You’ve always had me. I’ve always been yours from the moment you walked through those damn barn doors.” He watched as Cas’ eyes went wide at the confession.

Cas tilted his head and started to speak, but Dean plowed on. “You’ve changed me, and I’ve fought and kicked and screamed the entire time. You’ve made a place in my life and I can’t- I can’t function without you. I know I’ve always blamed you and yelled at you and pushed you away, and I’m so sorry Cas. I’m so damn sorry; I just didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. I didn’t think I deserved to have those feelings reciprocated, so I pushed them down and I lashed out at you.”

Dean’s voice broke as a sob escaped him. “I’ve never felt like this before, and I was scared and confused. I couldn’t fathom the thought that you would feel the same way. I’m just a screwed up human who’s made tons of bad decisions. I fell in love with you years ago, but why would I ever think that an angel would fall in love with a demon like me? Of course I love you! How could I not? I love you Cas, more than I have words for,” Dean said, his voice dropping to a whisper. Tears were clouding his eyes, and his hands were shaking. His throat hurt from all the tears clogging it, and he clenched his jaw to keep another sob from being ripped from his body.

Dean gasped as Cas pulled him closer to his body, wrapping his arms around Dean’s back and waist. Dean buried his head in the junction between Cas’ neck and shoulder. He flinched when Cas ran a soft hand through his short hair. “You dumbass,” Cas said, tears evident in his own voice.

Dean chuckled. “I prefer idiot. Less dumb, less ass.”

Cas laughed softly. “I’m sorry for not telling you about the deal. I’m sorry for.”

“STOP! You have nothing to apologize for. What’s done is done. Can’t we just put it behind us? Let’s just focus on right here, right now,” Dean said, looking Cas in the eyes.

A soft smile spread across Cas’ face. “I like that idea. I like that idea a lot.”

“So do I,” Dean whispered before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Cas’.

All the pent up feelings rushed into the space where their lips met. Every emotion the two of them had ever felt: anger, sadness, heartbreak, loyalty, betrayal, love, flowed between them. Cas pulled Dean even closer, the hunter going willingly. Their lips pressed and slipped against each other, their hands clutching one another, afraid to let go. Cas kissed as if he was starving and Dean kissed like a man possessed.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were gasping. Hardly an inch separated them and Dean slid his nose against Cas’, enjoying being so close to the man he loved. He cupped the back of Cas’ neck and twirled his fingers in the short black strands as Cas pecked his lips over and over. When Cas took a deep breath, Dean surged forward, slipping his tongue inside the ex-angel’s mouth.

Their noses bumped together as they continued to make out. Their tongues intertwined with each other before breaking apart just to do it all over again. Cas’ hand had come to rest on Dean’s shoulder once more, and he squeezed tightly.

Dean broke the kiss to stare. “I’ve hardly taken this jacket off. I couldn’t bear to part with it. It was the only reminder I had left of you.”

Cas nuzzled against Dean’s nose and cheek. “I promise not to leave you again. I’m home Dean; wherever you are, I’m home. I love you.”

Dean pressed a quick kiss to Cas’ lips. “I’m home too, Cas. You here with me is all I need. I love you.”

A while later they finally stood to their feet and walked hand in hand back to the barn. Jack and Cas shared a long hug and a few quiet words between them. Sam and Cas then hugged one another, Sam happy to have his brother back. They all took one last look at the barn before heading outside. Jack transported all of them back to the motel Dean and Sam were staying at. With a snap of his fingers, Baby’s trunk was loaded with Dean and Sam’s things, along with a bag full of clothes for Cas.

Without a word, Sam and Jack slid into the back seat. Cas slid into the passenger seat and Dean pulled him close, wrapping his arm around Cas’s shoulders and dropping a kiss into his hair. Before they headed back to the bunker, they would be picking up Eileen and stopping by to visit with Jody, Donna, and the girls. They would also check up on all the Apocalypse world hunters along the way.

Dean started the engine and looked in the rearview mirror. Sam and Jack were talking about some crazy piece of lore, and Dean smiled. For the first time in a long time, Sam and Jack were relaxed, not a hint of tension in their bodies. He then looked at the angel who was curled against him.

Cas looked up, his blue eyes shining. “What?”

Dean flashed a smile. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m just happy for once. We actually won.”

Cas leaned up and pressed a tender kiss to Dean’s lips. “We did. We got the ending we deserve.”

“Hell yeah we did.” As Dean pulled Baby out the parking lot and onto the highway, he leaned forward and turned on the radio. The car was filled with the sound of classic rock music.

Carry on my wayward son There will be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don’t you cry no more

#My writing #my OTP #Destiel

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hakurines · 5 years ago

Text

"Its not gay if he's also you"

Owo (from spookyscaryslasers)

The King dragged his past self through the sewers, taking a tight hold on his arm and constantly looking behind them.

“Did we lose them?” The pre entity self said, looking worriedly over his shoulder. His encounter with those two women left him… shaken, to say at the least. Thankfully another one of his selves was there to save him, who now currently was guiding him through the dark stinky sewers not so nicely.

“Come on now! We are almost there!” The king insisted, never ceasing his iron grip on the poor man’s arm. “W-wait up! you’re hurting meeee” The pre entity Herman said, trying to catch up to the other him, one that was touched by the entity. He couldn’t help but still feel afraid, yes, he saved him but… he looked like a monster, the way all that gold covered his face didn’t make him look fancy or elegant, it made him terrifying, was he really going to become like him? Abruptly, the king stopped, making the other bump his head and nose against his back. Rubbing his nose, and slight tears on his eyes, he simply followed the other up a ladder, possibly leading to the surface. The King helped him to his feet, only to realise they were sill at some endless white void, filled with nothing, nothing but the whole leading to those strange sewers and the two Hermans.

“Where are we?” Asked Herman, tidying up his coat and glasses, he came out remarkably clean for being in a sewer. “Don’t worry, follow me, I know a place” the other Herman said as he walked with purpose towards something the other couldn’t seem to see. As they walked, pieces of something started to form, making Herman clean his glasses to make sure he was looking at things right. “Hah, you are really new, aren’t you? You’ve never explored the white void I bet, i mean, that’s why you are reacting like this, correct?” The herman simply swallowed and nodded, feeling nervous.

“Don’t ask me how any of this works, alright? I don’t know, and honestly? I don’t care.” The pieces came together forming some sort of house, a big one, and rather fancy. The king pulled out from his vest a key, and opened the main door, holding open the door for his more human self.

“Welcome” The king simply stated, as he removed his cape and jacket and hanged it on a perch, the other Herman followed, taking off his lab coat. The house was… Nice, really nice, very modern looking, tho a bit too fancy for his likes, it was obvious the king himself adorned this place, filling it with antiques and gold rimmed objects that definitely didn’t need to be. The King guided him to the living room, where with a strong electric shock, the king lit up the chimney, giving everything around it a cozy warm glow. “Come on now, take a seat! I don’t have servants yet but i’m working on it. Meanwhile let me bring you something to drink.” With that, the king left, leaving Herman confused and very lost. Why did the king bring him here? Was this his home? Why was he being so nice to him?? Soon, the king came back, holding a silver tray with two fancy china cups, both steaming with what smelled like coffee. “Don’t get used to this, out of the two, I am the king…. But, you’ve had a rough day, so, i’ll give you a break.” accepting the cup, Herman took a careful sip, only to find out the coffee was absolutely delicious, the king must have notices, because he laughed. “You like it I see! Good, you are a man of taste then, this blend is supposedly brought straight from Mexico! Oh of course, here everything seems to be some sort of… copy, but I can assure you, these taste exactly like the real thing!” Herman simply smiled, and enjoyed the drink as he looked over the flames. Well, as scary as he looked, his other self wasn’t so bad it seemed.

“Listen Herman,” the king said suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence they had “There is… something, creating us, experimenting on us, using us.” The king looked serious for a moment, looking directly to the other herman, seeing how his glasses reflected the flames in front of them, “That’s why we need to help each other, this thing is obsessed with us, they already have one of us in captivity….” Herman simply listened, surprised by what the king was saying, putting down his finished coffee cup to pay better attention. “We cannot let that happen again, who knows what they want? And judging by those two women i saved you from… It seems they particularly like you. You need to be careful.” A sudden blush came to Herman´s face, fogging up his glasses, those two were rather aggressive on their… interest on himself, and he felt so unbelievably embarrassed by it. Cleaning his throat, he addressed the king trying to appear unfaces “Y-yes I- Uh, I mean, thank you, Herman, I’m glad you were there to help me. I’m still very confused by all of this, but i’m glad to know we can help each other…” With a smile The other Herman waved his hand “Ha, dont worry about it, and hey, i’d rather be called King, that way it will be easier for us to refer to each other, eh? I’m the King, you are Herman. Easy.”

“Now then, tomorrow we should see how we shall go on from here, but now? We should rest. Here, follow me.” With that, the King stood up and walked toward the main hall’s stairs, Herman close behind. “Wait! What if they find us here? Don’t misunderstand me, this place is lovely but… It looks so easy to break in to! Shouldn’t we block the doors and windows?” “Oh no, don’t you worry, my house may not look like a fortress, but trust me, i’ve already got security measures around here, the fanciest, priciest and most useful of all, after all, I don’t waste time with cheap useless things!” The king looked way too proud of himself by saying this, “My home wouldn’t look pretty with guards, cameras and obviously locked doors, wouldn’t it? Trust me, this place is rigged with alarms and other useful measures in case of a break in, if something happens, we will know.” Herman didn’t feel exactly calmer knowing this, but he had no time to argue as they entered one of the many rooms in the house.

The room was beautiful, a gorgeous king sized bed was in the middle, adorned with pillows and blankets that looked oh so soft and inviting, herman couldn’t help but approach it and rub his face over it, enjoying greatly their silky texture. On the other end of the room, the king opened another door, one that seemed to take you to a walk in closet and a bathroom. He took two items from it, and closed the door. “In here is my closet and bathroom. I made this place only thinking I would live in it with some servants, so, a room dignified of another Herman is not available right now, so, in the meantime, this will be our room. Here, you can wear this.” The king handed Herman a folded piece of fabric, wich, upon unfolding, revealed to be a long silk robe, adorned with an intricate pattern of flowers leaves and swirls. With it, an equally fancy pair tighty whities fell to the floor. A bit escandaliced, Herman yelled “Y-You expect m-mE TO WEAR THESE?” Unimpressed, the king stepped behind his dressing screen, allowing the other to see only his silhouette as hge undressed himself. “What, where you planning on sleeping on those filthy close of yours, right? Besides, we will be sharing a bed, and i don’t want you accidentally brushing against me with those sandpapers” The king stepped out of the screen, wearing a similar robe. Herman was still holding the robe, undies on the floor, red faced from the situation. “Well? What are you waiting for? You may use the screen or change in the bathroom, just hurry up so we can turn off the lights.” Swallowing hard, Herman complied, walking into the bathroom to have more privacy, the screen had allowed him to see a lot more than he hoped, adding to his embarrassment.

He usually prefered a tshirt and some long pants for pajamas, and these were simply a bit too revealing to him, another blush came to his face as he undressed and allowed the undies and silk robe to slide in his body. Dang, they felt nice, he couldn’t help but hug himself, enjoying their softness, but a call from the king snapped hi out of it, and as he tightly wrapped the robes around him, he stepped out, and went to the unused side of the bed. “Ah, good, we are the same size I see, i’m glad to know my good looks prevail even when you aren’t as rich as me.” If it was possible, Herman´s blush became even deeper, not used to such comments. The bed was even better than he expected it, the soft sheets, the soft yet firm mattress, and the pillows where so soft and fluffy, he couldn’t help to let out a happy sigh of relief upon laying on them. With a click, the king turned off the lights, and with that Herman took off his glasses, leaving them on the side table.

Each one rolled on his side’s, giving eachother their backs, both wanting some space in the bed. It didn’t take long for herman to notice that, even with the bed’s softness and comfiness, it was missing something, he remembered there were blankets when he first saw the bed, where where they now? feeling around with his feet, he had to dive into the covers to realize they were all neatly folded at the very end of the huge bed. The king must have folded them while he was changing… And he didn’t even seem bothered by coldness of the room, so he tried to generate his own body heat, rubbing his feet against the sheets and his hands over his arms as quietly as possible. But of course, the King noticed.

“Why are you wiggling around so much?!” The room was dark so he couldn’t see him, but he could tell he was annoyed. “S-sorry! It’s just that uhhh, you took all the blankets, and im kinda cold…” he looked where the king was supposed to be, and felt how he turned around to face him, and only his eyes, his red and golden eyes where visible through the darkness, having a glow of their own. They stared at each other for a second before the king interrupted “Oh! hahaha, silly me, i’m so sorry, I totally forgot, you haven’t been touched by the entity… You don’t have mechanical insides that generate heat like me… This might be a problem…” Surprised by that, Herman simply made a questioning sound, “You see, the bed gets unbearably warm when they are over me, so if we pull them over again, i might not be able to sleep from the heat… Hmmm” Both thought for a second, and Herman was the first one to talk. “Oh, well, maybe i should take some blankets and sleep on the couch? You left the chimney lit so-” “What?” the King interrupted, “No, no version of mine will be sleeping on a couch like a commoner… I have a better idea, come here.” Herman seated up, worried, “What? what do you mean come here? besides, it is no trouble i can just-” but the king fed up with him, simply dragged himself over his side, coaxing herman to lay down and get under coves again, after what seemed like a short fight, since herman wasn’t sure what his other self was trying to do, he ended up laying his head on the kings chest, with his arms wrapped around him. “See? Problem solved, I produce enough body heat for the both of us. come on now, you are me and im you, you should not be prude with yourself.” He simply stated, and closed his eyes to sleep again.

Meanwhile, Herman could not believe this, cuddling with his other self for heat? It was kinda humiliating and kinda inappropriate and kinda… nice. He was so worm, and he could hear the motor of his insides working as his ear was flush against his chest. He wasn’t sure if he could hear more than one motor of if he was hearing his uneven heartbeat too, but he had to admit, it was so soothing and relaxing. And honestly? he hated to admit it but, he felt so safe in the arms of his other, he couldn’t help but sadly smile and hug back. Was this super weird? Yes, and who knows, maybe he was the prude of his selves but right now, he was definitely enjoying himself. With a sigh, both quickly fell asleep, enjoying eachothers company.

----- -please---please could you forgive me? :”V - (( omg i lof this fic AAAHHHH

#hakurines #herman carter #fan fic writing #fan fic fan art #dbd #w-what can i say?#i don't know what to write in the hashtag #selfcest #submission

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motleymoose · 4 years ago

Text

Homecoming Pt. 3: Bits & Pieces Ch. 1

Chapter 1 Ashes in a Vacuum

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars Characters: The Mandalorain (Din Djarin), Gender Neutral Reader, The Child Words: 2.5k+ Warnings: Injury, Angst, A whole lotta attitude

Summary:

I AM ALL SORTS OF ANGRY AT THAT FRAGGING BUCKETHEAD!!! He's leaving me with more questions than I have the ability to ask, and I don't like it one bit.

But dang, that little greenie is cute!

Notes:

Heya! Thank y'all for reading!!! I'm not sure how many chapters this part is gonna have, so??? We're coming up on the halfway point of the story. Maybe my editing skills will improve by then (ha).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Homecoming Masterlist

The way everything hurt, I was sure I was dying.

Squinting at the dim, fuzzy gray light of my bunk, I ran an internal diagnostics check. With every little wiggle and flex of an appendage, I gradually realized that I was not, in fact, dying, but I wasn’t in prime fighting shape either. Slowly, gingerly, I scrubbed sleep from my burning eyes with the heels of my palms, my vision spotty and fuzzy in places. It felt good to let them linger, pressing heavily into the closed eyelids and relieving the pressure built up behind my eyeballs. As killer headaches went, the one I was experiencing in that moment wasn’t the worst I’d ever had, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like doshing kung.

Now that I was sorta awake, I took physical stock of my body. My eyes still wouldn’t clear, the large flecks of gray shadow swimming lazily in my periphery, so I used touch to see what was going on. Letting my hands do the work, I started with my head, running my fingers lightly down my neck to my shoulders and chest. Something felt off about the shape of my body as I continued to scan downwards to my hips. Foggy memories swirled inside my head, screaming and pain and choking smoke. A jumbled mess of noise and smells overpowered everything else, and the bits and pieces of the fight and flight from Bosph scattered nervously into the darker recesses of my brain.

Frustrated, I sat up, ignoring the sharp tug at the pit of my elbow and the violent, painful thumping rattling my brain. “Fragging buckethead,” I hissed through clenched teeth. He had got me in this mess. Sure, it was my fault for getting a bounty put on me, but if only he’d listened to me in the first place, we coulda avoided Bosph entirely. The anger, bitter and sparkling and pulsing red, numbed the headache and the bruises slightly. And as the ire rose, so too did the functionality of my brain.

I could focus now on what my hands had been trying to tell me: all of my possessions, from my boots to my jumpsuit and everything in between or tucked into pockets, was gone. A worn coarseweave tunic hung from my curved shoulders, the sleeves neatly rolled up around my biceps, and a newer looking pair of long johns, the baggy legs bunched around my knees, had replaced my utilitarian and well-loved apparel.

Oh Mother of Kwath! Had the Mandalorian undressed me?! I mean, I was an adult. He was an adult. And apparently I had been injured enough to warrant such an invasion of privacy. Still, I couldn’t fight the blush burning brightly across my chest and face.

So doshing uncomfortable.

Nope, nope, nope. Didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Pushing down all of the humiliation and trauma and apprehension until the feelings were little more than an annoying itch under my skin, I allowed the rage to take over a little more. It was easier to be angry than to feel anything else, the outrage a warming presence in my chilly body. It also gave me the little boost of courage for what I had to do next.

Screwing my eyes shut, incredibly unprepared for the worst possible outcome, I touched the place under my collarbone where my silver skull pendant rested, a solid, reassuring weight...

Nothing.

Instead of skin-warmed metal, I was met with warm, padded resistance. Peering into the neck of the tunic, I found a thick, dull-colored wrap encasing my midsection from under my armpits to my hip bones. It smelled of the sea on a warm summer’s day, and I wrinkled my nose automatically. Bacta. Whatever injury I had sustained must’ve been bad enough to call for the precious, oftentimes expensive goo. The wrap wasn’t so tight as to constrict breathing or some movements, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

The physical uncomfortableness brought me back to the question of why the bounty hunter was keeping me alive, but just like all the other feelings, I ignored it. I needed to find my clothes, my necklace. Get dressed. Leave this beautiful ship and her tyrant pilot behind and become a krill farmer out on the Outer Rim.

Well, probably not a farmer. A droid mech, perhaps.

The soft skin on the inside of my elbow twinged again, pulling me out of my daydreams as I reached for the blanket covering the lower half of my body. A thin, clear tube snaked from a needle inserted into a vein to a nearly-empty pouch hanging from a hook in the bunk wall. Fumbling, my fingernails worked their way underneath the sticky medical tape, peeling up an edge wide enough to pinch. I ripped the tape from my arm, gritting as it pulled hair and skin with it. Once the tape was gone, I slid the needle out of my arm with a hiss, tossing it aside to leak between the cot and the bunk wall. Whatever cocktail of drugs the bounty hunter had mixed into the IV, he’d probably added a good dose of sedative to keep me down for the count. That would’ve explained the fogginess.

And it made me so mad.

I let the full-blown, all-consuming fury in, jerking the coarseweave blanket off of me and freeing my legs. Exhaling forcefully, I tested my injured knee, poking at the matching bacta bandage. The original searing-white agony I had experienced on Bosph was muted now, less of a screaming torment and more of a dull throbbing. Healed enough to put weight on. Hopefully

Groaning and cursing at stiff muscles and bucketheaded hunters respectively, I wriggled on the bed until my bare feet skimmed the floor. The cold steel of the hull platform sent shivers through my flesh, feeding the annoyance and anger and frustration. I inhaled, steadying myself for the shooting pain sure to follow standing on both legs. Pleasantly astonished as I was that it didn’t hurt too horribly, I wasn’t prepared for the lightheadedness. The blood rushed from my face, my vision blackening around the edges.

“Oh frag,” I managed to croak before slumping to the floor in an unconscious heap. --------------- I awoke, some time later, inside my bunk. The coarseweave blanket was tucked firmly beneath my chin, the IV reinserted into my arm, and my red-hot rage completely dissipated. An imposing, blurry figure stood at the foot of the bunk, and I took my time adjusting myself from lying flat to reclining, eyes tightly shut to avoid the spinning shadows. Once I was comfortable, I cracked an eyelid. The Mandalorian’s blurred steely stare greeted me, a clear bag of liquid over one arm and a sling supporting the other.

“You’re awake,” he stated matter of factly.

“D-Didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of travelling in silence,” I replied dryly, voice husky with disuse. “By the way, where’s my jumpsuit?” I opened my eyes all the way, blinking rapidly to dispel the fog coating them. It didn’t work.

The bounty hunter harrumphed softly. “Incinerated. You had a fractured knee, two broken ribs and a blaster wound to the stomach. Plus severe retinal damage and dehydration. You’re lucky you even made it off-planet.” He angled his visor away from me to tap out something on his vembrace.

“Wait, what?”

He tilted his visor towards me and put it simply. “You almost died.”

I feebly waved the non-IVed hand in front of my face. “No, not that. Did you say you incinerated all of my stuff?!”

Ignoring me, per his style, he continued to tap on his vembrace’s control panel.

Devastated, depressed and not a little bit murderous, I glowered squintily at him. I was reeling inwardly, but on the outside I was colder than carbonite.

As he ignored me, I studied him as closely as my recovering vision would allow. I could tell there was something different in his appearance, but it took a moment for me to recognize what it was . A softer quality to his edges that I couldn’t quite understand, his body looking less defined, less bulky than normal. I blinked several times to refocus, and was rewarded with infinitesimally better vision.

“Where’s your armor, shabuir?” I sniped. I may have been more than a little miffed that all of my worldly possessions were now ash and lumps of twisted metal, and biting at a Mandalorian was a temporarily soothing balm to my aching heart.

The hunter reached over me and unhooked the empty bacta IV bag from a rod above my head, replacing it with the one he’d brought. Adjusting the solution valve, he tapped the drip chamber twice before turning his attention back to me. “There’s a spare jumpsuit in the ‘fresher. Keep the bacta wrap on for another hour, at least.” As an afterthought, he added, “We’ll be on Nevarro in a few days.” A frown tainted his voice. “Stay out of my way ‘til then.” Spinning on his heel, he marched to the ladder and disappeared onto the upper deck.

………

It took about twelve hours for me to feel well enough to rid myself of the IV and bacta wraps and get out of the bunk without having the ship buck underneath me like a wild bluurg. I took that time to cry myself to sleep, wake up and cry some more. The loss of my tools and kit was a huge blow to my self-worth, but the loss of the pendant, well. It was the only piece I had left of a life full of fear and hunger and love; it connected me to home. If I didn’t have that, where did I belong?

It took another three hours for me to get up the nerve to get cleaned and dressed. I prowled around the cargo hold, poking and prodding at the carbonite storage, the control panels and the refresher. There hadn’t been much of a chance on my earlier voyages to explore, so with the Mandalorian occupied guiding the ship through hyperspace, I felt emboldened to figure out more about him. Not that there was much to glean from my investigation; the hold contained only the basics of survival for deep space travel, and weapons. Lots of weapons.

Oh, and several beings in what looked to be forced-stasis, frozen in carbonite.

Shivering in sympathy for my hold companions, I turned and shuffled back to the bunk. What I really had hoped to find was the incinerator - most ships kept them below near the back for easy dispatch of trash - but I hadn’t found hide nor hair of one below deck. It could’ve been located above. Not exactly the safest or most pleasant location, yet with all the fire power and carbonite in the hold, it kinda made sense. No need to put three dangerous elements all in one place, if you had the room.

A little voice at the back of my head reminded me of something else: that fragging Mando had all but ordered me to stay put. If he thought for one second that I was going to listen to him, he had another thing coming. I held no ill-will against Mandalorians in general, but this one was getting on my bad side. First arresting me and then almost getting me killed and then destroying the only thing I had left of home reminded me that I only had myself to rely on, that everyone else was out to either disappoint me or kill me.

I’d be doshed if I was going to let that buckethead dictate what I could and couldn’t do, especially since he was the one who took me off that Maker-forsaken moon in the first place.

Especially since he handed me over to Mihcas without an apology.

And took my pendant and tools to boot.

Ascending the ladder turned out to be a formidable feat in my weakened condition, but I prevailed. It took more effort than it should have, and I collapsed onto the cool steel platform once I made it all the way up.

“What are you doing?” The modulated baritone came from my right. Swiveling my head, I watched as the bounty hunter stomped out of the captain’s quarters, a bundle of clothes clutched to his chest and fingers unsurprisingly reaching for his blaster. Whatever was in the bundle must have been precious, for he shifted it away from me to his injured arm. It obviously still hurt; he held the bundle in the crook of his elbow, awkwardly bent and trembling with effort.

Good.

Rage flared in my chest, licking its way up like flames and leaving a red mask pounding behind my eyes. Pushing the anger away, I clambered up to my feet. I was going to get answers, and I’d be fragged if I was going to show emotion in front of him.

“Where’s the incinerator?” I spat savagely. So much for not showing any emotion.

Obviously taken aback by my vehemence and bluntness, he cocked his helmet and pulled his hand from his blaster, resting it casually on his belt buckle. “Why?”

Simple enough question, simple enough answer. But I didn’t feel like answering him. Opening my mouth to respond, a cooing sound interrupted me. It sounded like it was coming from the bundle still shielded in his injured arm.

Snapping my jaw shut with a painfully audible click, I raised my eyebrows pointedly at him. “Trafficking something illegal there, chakaar?” Anxiety clenched my stomach in its viselike grip, and I had to force the bile from rising in my throat. I was still weak from Bosph, but if he was buying and selling living beings to make a living, he was no better than my ex-boss. No better than me. Which meant I was going to have to hurt him or die trying.

A sharp hiss of an inhale through the vocoder told me I’d hit on something. Something he didn’t want me knowing. A whispery stream of very impolite Mando’a floated in the space between us. The air was thick with tension, and both of us were patiently waiting for the other to make the next move.

The coo came again, slightly muffled, followed by a bubbly giggle, startling us out of our stare-down. The bundle wriggled, and the Mandalorian shifted his attention from me to it as the thing became too much to handle with one injured arm. Grunting either out of pain or frustration, the bounty hunter stepped backwards until he was in the doorway of the bunk. Squeaking and chittering indignantly, the lump in the clothes broke free with a victorious huff.

And it was the cutest fragging thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.

_____________________

Notes:

chakaar - corpse robber, thief, petty criminal - general term of abuse shabuir - extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger

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beendressingforrevenge · 5 years ago

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My review of Folklore (first listen feelings)

The 1 - "I'm on some new shit" 🥰🥰. Chill vibes feeling very soothing. If you never bleed you're never gunna grow!! If my wishes came true it woulda been you!! Never leaving well enough alone HUH TAYLOR I see you there. The ending Oooohoooohoh

Cardigan - the slinky feel is amazing. I absolutely love the vibe and the softness in the lyrics. Friend to all is a friend to none. You drew stars around my scars but now I'm bleeding. Marked me like a bloodstain. Peter losing wendy. The imagery!! When you are young they assume you know nothing and then switching straight to "I knew you".... the way she's playing with emphasis is lovely. You'd come back to me/you could stay parallel.

Tlgad - ooh the beat is cool on this one. Only so far new money goes. Oh snap. This is so cutting. Her fault it fell down. She had a marvellous time ruining everything. Pool with champagne again huh. Card game bets. Most shameless woman this town has ever seen. So many implications of "they say". Again with the different style of emphasis. So this is the story of taylors house? Love it. LOUDEST WOMAN this town has ever seen. I had a marvellous tiiiiiIIIIiiiime ruining everything.

Exile - you're not my homeland anymore so what am I defending??? Also the use of films, a recurrent theme in taylors music since fearless. The low register of taylors voice.... delicious. Those eyes add insult to injury. Who am offending now? The step up in piano pace. The echoing vocals. Walked a very thin line. The swell of vocals overlapping. The contradictions and the almost argumentative nature of the vocals is great. Lyrically I'm getting Cold As You/White Horse vibes for some reason?

My tears ricochet - the opposing oohs in each ear is so eerie but I love it? If I'm on fire you'll be made of ashes too. Hero imagery is strong in this album. Same jewels I gave you to bury me... dang. I can anywhere I want just not home... just after the song exile is so powerful. Stolen lullabyes!! The way she repeats but changes the lyrics is so good.

Mirrorball - layering of vocals is beautiful. Shining just for you. Confessional nature of the song echoing the sadness. Masquerade revellers. How can she sing 'rodeo clowns' and its sad and mournful and not jokes? Still on that trapeze trying everything to keep you looking at me.

Seven - lol tay you didnt peak at 7 😂. This is also gay. We can be pirates and you wont have to cry is so soft and also badass. Used to scream ferociously!! I still got lOove for you. Move to india together? I love this so much. Passing down stories in folk songs. This is soft and sweet. Outro is like a melancholy dance.

August - the melody of this song is perfect. August slipped away into a moment of time. The way that the vocals step back at that part? Is so good? She is really playing with the arrangements of instruments and vocals and its so interesting. You werent mine to lose! Twisting in bedsheets.... hello daylight. Cancelled my plans in case you called... living for the hope of it all. The way that line echos and switches sides and moves throughout the arrangement is so cleverly done.

This is me trying - afterglow and btd vibes. The arrangement swells and beats are kind of off putting but in a good way? I got wasted like all my potential - THIS LYRIC IS ME. Pouring my heart out to a stranger - also me. This song is attacking me personally. For real taylor. Bridge feels a little forced ... hm. But I do love the "at least I'm trying" part.

Illicit affairs - wow this is so deep and dark. Tell them you're going for a run... cause you'll be flushed. The force behind "HIM". A dwindling mercurial high! The fact that she says die then lie in the second verse. Dont call me kid dont call me baby look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. Showed me colours you know I cant see with anyone else. This is heartbreaking. SECRET LANGUAGE I CANT SPEAK WITH ANYONE ELSE. This song is attacking me also.

Invisible string - loving the little jig of strings, kind of safe and sound/eyes open reminiscent. Focusing on colours as a means to remember - a theme in her work. Seeeeeeee and Meeeeeeeee is so lovely. It is pretty to think there was some invisible string all along. SINGLE THREAD OF GOLD taaaaylor. Now she sends their babies presents 🥰. I just love the run on "me" and "oh".

Mad woman - they strike to kill and you know I will. You made her like that. This song is giving me chills. Wow. The faint record scratches. Breathe flames every time I talk. Women like hunting witches too. Wanting me dead has brought you two together. RIP Kimye. Nothing like a maaaaaad *deep voice* woman. Master of spin has a couple of side flings... should be scathing like me but no one likes a mad woman. Lyrical artistry. Kind of Better Than Revenge vibes?

Epiphany - swell into the song is a slow build which is very true to the name of the song. The "keep" note is so raw and open? Again this is so different from her usual style. Down/down is giving me chills. Something med school didnt cover - you mean all of it tay? Voice dipping at hold your hand through plastic now is.... good. I feel this may also be about her mother/COVID? A fading outro. This song has me all kinds of confused

Betty - guitar and harmonica is so nostalgic? Riding on my skateboard is the new scooter. This is so gay. Also love the way she uses "garden". The emphasis on words is so unique in this song. The juxtapositions in this song are so great. Also wtf did they do to betty? The way she links words is so reminiscent of the way people think and wish about things and hope and dream of stuff. It feels like authentic to the way thoughts swirl and a stream of consciousness but also very lyrically sound. Excellent songwriting!

Peace - love the spacey intro and the highpaced ticking alongside the slower string piece. I could never give you peace ... feels like the beat vs the calm strings. Dreamscapes on the wall. I'm wasting your honour and then a soft piano added to the mix. Kind of the middle ground between the two. Give you a child 👀. Robbers to the east and clowns to the west. Taylor maybe he wants rain. They think its for show but I would die for you in secret. Keep your brittle fire warm.

Hoax - like a 3 note intro! Eclipsed sun 😪 the sad vibes. Windless fight. These images are so forlorn. The echoing melodies are adding to this vibe. Faithless love is the only hoax I believe in?? Ugh BLUE is back. Love the imagery of this song. The cliffside. The barren love. The hoax of love. She doesnt want any other sadness. Still hurts under my scars from when they pulled me apart? What YOU DID WAS JUST AS DARK? Wow. She been hurt. Again the places she is putting emphasis is very different from her usual songwriting. Longer outro than intro is also very different for taylor. Interestiiiiing.

#honestly wowowowow #taylurking #amazing #so good #taylor #taylor swift

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talinexa · 6 years ago

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Emotional Disarmament - One-Shot

Because hot dang Riku is such a great character and they made him so pretty in KH3.

With an outcry, the tower of swirling Heartless smashed into Riku, sending him flying back. He slid across the sand, dropping his keyblade. He heard the jingling that was the weapon dissolving into light but didn’t see it vanish, face buried in the sand.

He looked up in time to see the demon tower approaching his friend.

“Mickey!” Riku shouted, watching the Disney Town king get swallowed up by the Heartless swarm. He reached his hand out, willing his keyblade into existence.

Riku woke with a gasp, lashing out his right hand, keyblade appearing in a flash of light.

*****

I woke to Braveheart, a familiar keyblade, inches from my throat. It took me a moment to get my bearings. Forest. Open skies. Sleeping bags. Training mission to the Kingdom of Corona. “M... Master Riku?” I asked quietly, rubbing sleep out of my eyes tiredly. I sat up, gently pushing his keyblade out of the way. He gasped and let it vanish into light.

“Did... did I hurt you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. What’s going on?”

He shook his head too. “Nothing. Bad dream. Go back to sleep.”

“The Realm of Darkness again?”

Blue-green eyes bored right into me, piercing straight to my soul. He’d always looked at everyone like that. Perceptive, sharp, and yet welcoming. He sighed. “Yeah,” he admitted.

I nodded. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No. I’m... I’m fine. Go back to sleep. We’re continuing training tomorrow.” He flopped back down, throwing one hand behind his head and gazing up at the stars.

“Mmm... Master Riku?”

That earned me another sigh---this one more exasperated than reluctant. “How many times have I asked you to just call me Riku?”

“But... you’re training me. You’re a keyblade master. It’s only polite---”

“We’re the same age,” he interrupted. “There’s really no need.”

I lowered myself back down onto my sleeping bag and turned my gaze to the stars. “Why’d you pick me?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Why did you want to train me? Of all people. I mean. I’m not particularly skilled or athletic...”

“Not at first. But... Ventus asked me if I would consider training you after he Bequeathed you his power. And I agreed because I saw potential in you. The same way Terra once saw potential in me. And I was... five years old at the time. Nothing remarkable about me. I see past your physical body and right into your heart. Your keyblade is an extension of your own heart. And look how bright it is. You’re like Sora---full of light and love and life. Your keyblade is a reflection of that.”

I nodded.

“‘Sides, you’re getting way more athletic the more we train,” Riku added. “And I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Now get some more sleep. We’ve got more training to do in the morning. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t.” I rolled onto my side so my back was to him and put my hands under my head. “Night Master Riku.”

“It’s just Riku. And goodnight.”

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Riku grunted after a few minutes. I rolled onto my other side to face him. “You okay?”

He was rubbing his chest. “Storm’s comin’ in. We should find a more sheltered spot to finish the night in,” he said.

“How can you tell?”

“Old injuries are aching. Always do when it rains or when rain’s coming.” He sat up and rolled up his sleeping bag. “Pretty sure I saw a cave a few yards downstream. Let’s go check it out. Do me a favor: summon your keyblade, will ya?”

“Why?” I asked, grabbing my pack and wriggling out of my sleeping bag. Riku immediately started rolling it up. “I can---”

“I know. But your keyblade gives off light. We need to see.”

I held my hand out. My keyblade appeared and my fist closed around the hilt. It was similar to Lea’s---but with less fire and more white starlight. Its gentle, pale glow dimly lit the clearing we’d been sleeping in. “Are you ever going to trust me with your nightmares, Master Riku?”

“Maybe the day you start just calling me Riku, I might.” He smirked at me over his shoulder.

“You’re training me. That puts you in the position of authority. ‘Master’ is a gesture of respect.”

He stood up and put my sleeping bag on his shoulder, one arm wrapped around it. His was under his other arm, pack on his other shoulder. He gave me a smile. “And we’re still the same age. I know more stuff than you in one area. That doesn’t make me higher up than you. You’re definitely smarter than me in... pretty much every other area. If anything, I should be calling you the master. You’re the master of life and the real world. I know how to fight with a keyblade and chase my friends through the worlds. You know how to live in the worlds. Live. Not just survive. A skill I... don’t know if I can learn at this point.”

While he talked, we headed downstream, looking for the cave. I held my keyblade at the ready, raising it over my head to cast its light as far as I could. In the event of something happening, I could hold my own long enough for Riku to drop our sleeping bags and back me up. I wasn’t totally useless.

I glanced at him, a sympathetic crease wrinkling my forehead. “Riku...”

He chuckled. “There. Was that so hard?”

“I...”

“C’mon. Up ahead.” He nodded forward and picked up his pace.

“Slow down!” I protested, jogging to catch up.

We reached the cave---a loose connection of rocks a few yards away from the stream bank. Riku unrolled our sleeping bags and climbed into his. Once I was in mine, I let my keyblade disappear in a flash of light. “This should keep us dry. We’re uphill from the stream too so it won’t flood. Night.”

“G’night.”

*****

“It was Mickey,” a voice said.

I jolted awake. “Huh?”

“You asked if I was ever going to talk to you about the nightmares,” Riku commented. I unzipped my sleeping bag and sat up. The sound of rain striking the forest filled my ears. I watched him silently, letting him speak when he was ready. “Sometimes the nightmares are memories. It was when I saw Mickey get hit by a Demon Tower---a swarm of Heartless that swirl together like a fast, extremely agile cyclone. It happened. When we were looking for Master Aqua. For a horrifying moment, I thought he was gone. The image of that---and the fear that I’d lose such a close friend---it’s never left me.”

He was sitting on his sleeping bag, staring out of the mouth of the cave at the morning storm. His hair was slightly longer than it had been when we first met. He brushed it out of his eyes.

“Oh,” I said. I wanted to reach out---to set my hand on his shoulder and assure him that the past was in the past and he and Mickey were both safe. But I didn’t. It would sound fake and insincere no matter how much I meant it if he didn’t believe I was telling the truth.

He grunted as he shuffled his position. “I think the training we had planned is gonna get postponed,” he said. “I ache and don’t want either of us to get sick by sparring in the rain.”

“Is there... anything I can do to help?”

“Nope. No amount of healing potions or spells make this feel better. Just have to wait out the storm.” He winced and leaned against the wall. “That’s... what I get for fighting.” The reassuring smile he tried to give me was more like a grimace.

“Just... get some rest. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I was gonna see how I felt---eat after a sparring session like usual. But I’m not up for sparring this morning.”

“Good,” I said, finding my pack and digging out some breakfast. “Because I wasn’t in the mood for getting my butt kicked for the thousandth time.” My flat sarcasm wasn’t lost on him the way Sora might have missed it.

Riku laughed. “Hey, you’re doing a lot better,” he said. “I’m not going super easy on you anymore.” He accepted the food I handed him. “Thanks.”

I snorted. “Yeah right. You still go really easy on me.”

“No not really. Not as much as I did when you first started and all I did was defend and give you easy attacks to defend against.”

“How comforting.”

He chuckled. Then went quiet while he ate. I munched on some breakfast too.

We sat in silence for nearly an hour. I could tell by the light outside getting brighter as the sun rose behind the clouds. Not that it got much brighter since the clouds were blocking the sunlight.

Riku’s breathing was deep and rhythmic. He was snoozing against the wall.

I slid out of the cave and conjured my keyblade. Might as well run some drills. Nothing too difficult.

I started swinging my keyblade, mocking defensive blocks and slashing attacks. It whooshed through the air, sending arcs of rainbows through the rain around it. The drops plunked off the metal of my weapon with small, barely-audible clinking sounds.

I wondered if what happened to Riku would happen to me. Injuries that ached in the rain and nightmares of the horrors I’d seen.

I paused, stabbing my key into the ground and leaning against the hilt, gazing into the cave.

How had Riku gone through so much---most of it he wouldn’t even tell me about---and still manage to keep his light? He was arrogant at times, sure, but he was kind and light-hearted too. He never raised his voice at me in anger---just out of practicality if I couldn’t hear him over the ringing of our keyblades---and always treated me with respect.

It was why I admired him so much.

I shook my head, letting water fling off the ends of the baby hairs around my face, and went back to my drill. I needed to practice my footwork---it was still sloppy...

“You’re gonna get sick!” Riku called from the cave.

I shrieked in surprise and slipped on the wet grass, landing on my butt with an, “Oof!”

He laughed. “Come back in here and dry off. You can train later.”

“I’m not that wet,” I said, picking myself back to my feet but following his orders anyway. The shoulders of my jacket were mildly damp but that was it. I pulled my jacket off to reveal my tank top underneath so the jacket could dry. I shivered and then shook my head. I was fine. I was tougher than that.

“Here.” Riku pulled something out of his pack and handed it to me.

A spare jacket.

I drowned in it since he was a lot taller than I was, but it was warm. “Thanks,” I said.

He nodded.

I pulled his jacket tighter around my body. It was super soft. That wasn’t fair. Why were his jackets warmer than mine?

“Was it worth it?” he teased.

“Yes. We all need a warmup. How are you feeling?” I curled my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and stared at Riku. He met my gaze with a question in his eyes. “Your aches. Your old injuries.”

“Oh yeah. They’re fine. Just aching,” he said, rubbing his chest in the same place he did last night when he said the storm was coming. “Hopefully you’ll be better at this whole thing than I am. I just...” He shrugged. “I was an idiot when I was first learning and really bad at blocking. Especially here.” He leaned off the wall and lifted his shirt to reveal a scar across his lower back. “Took a hit directly from Xemnas to protect Sora.”

I giggled as he pulled his shirt back down.

“What’s so funny?” Riku asked.

I shrugged. “You’re... it’s just... I’ve noticed that you’re the protective one of the three of you.”

“I am n---... okay maybe yeah I am,” he relented.

I laughed, curling a little tighter to keep my warmth inside Riku’s jacket. “It’s something I admire about you, Riku. You’ve always fought for the strength to protect the people that matter to you and... you’ve sacrificed yourself for Sora... so many times. I...” I shook my head. “I dunno. I admire that a lot. You’re... a lot stronger than I am.”

“Strength comes in different kinds. Mine is physical. Yours is... I don’t know if I’m remotely qualified to assign you your strength. I see you as emotionally strong. And mentally,” Riku said.

“Listen to us. Having a philosophical discussion when we could be talking about... literally anything else,” I said with a smile. “Get some rest, Riku. We can always talk later.”

He nodded and leaned his head back against the wall. “’Kay. Wake me when the rain stops.”

I glanced out the cave opening. “Yeah okay.” My sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. He knew I didn’t think the rain was going to let up soon---and even if it did, he deserved the rest so I most definitely wasn’t going to wake him up. He’d been pushing himself more than me in training so I wanted him to sleep.

He smirked but didn’t say anything. Just rested.

*****

“Clever, I’ll admit,” Riku said, parrying my swing, quickly delivering a blow to my spine with the wooden practice weapons we were using. “But not clever enough.”

I hissed in pain and rubbed my back. “One of these days, Mas---Riku---I’m gonna best you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he said jokingly. “You’re smart. You’re good at the outwit part of combat. You just gotta work at some of the other parts. Like defense. But mostly offense. Wanna try again?”

I sighed. “Gimme a sec. Then I will. For now... ouch.”

“Sorry. Probably got a little too enthusiastic.”

“It’s fine.” I shook my head.

“Consider it a compliment. You’re putting up enough of a fight that I forget to hold back.”

“Thanks.” The throb from the whack eased out and faded to a dull ache that quickly vanished. I readied my practice weapon again. “Let’s go.”

Riku smirked and took his ready stance. “If you think you can handle it.”

I laughed. “I’m not Sora. You can’t scare me into panic.” I swung my practice keyblade. We rarely trained with real ones for safety. The wooden practice keyblades were lighter than real ones, but I made sure to practice alone with my real weapon whenever I had the chance.

“Fair enough,” he said, blocking my swing outright instead of deflecting it. I had no idea how he was strong enough to dead stop my swings. But he did it a lot. I had to deflect and parry because if I tried to halt his slashing dead, I’d break something from the force. Probably my wrist.

We sparred for several minutes---maybe, time was difficult to tell while swinging oversized keys in an otherwise empty forest. I was trying my hardest but still couldn’t manage to beat him.

Well. He was the Master for a reason. I was just the student.

“Hyah!” I cried out, flipping my wooden keyblade into a backhanded grip and rolled with his slash, using my keyblade to protect my arm from getting hit, before shoving him with my elbow into a tree and flipping into a forward grip and leveling my weapon at his throat. “Yield!”

His back against the tree, he smirked. “Not bad. I’m impressed,” he said, blue-green eyes sparkling with humor.

He swung and knocked my keyblade away with his, pushing off the tree and attacking with renewed vigor. “But you still have some work to do. Disarm me next time.”

I growled in frustration at forgetting about the disarming and went on defense, parrying and deflecting slashes and stabs until I could find the flow of the fight again. Once I got the flow, I took control. Just like he taught me. “You’re gonna---have to---mind how you---instruct me on---things like that,” I said between Clack!s of our weapons.

“Meaning?”

“Disarm---doesn’t just mean---‘remove you from your keyblade.’ As you said---my strength is emotional. I could emotionally and---mentally disarm you while---leaving your hilt---still in your hand.”

Riku chuckled. “Do I dare ask you to prove that?”

“I don’t know. That’s up to you. I respect you too much---to prove it though.”

There it was. My opening. He made a sloppy move.

I smacked the inside of his wooden keyblade with mine and twisted, effectively knocking the weapon out of his hand. He cheered for me even as I whirled and hit him in the knee, sending him sprawling to the ground. I landed next to him, one knee on his chest and my blade leveled at his face.

“Yield!”

He laughed and put up his hands in surrender. “Gladly,” he said. “Not bad. I’m proud of you.”

I smiled and climbed off of him, offering him a hand to help him up.

But, like the totally mature Keyblade Master he was, he yanked me down to land on the ground---knocking my face into his shoulder with an, “Oof!” and a sigh of frustration. “Was that really necessary?”

“Yeah,” he decided. “Gotta live it up sometimes.”

I lifted my face from his shoulder and glared. His eyes were shining with laughter through his silver-white bangs. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh along with him though. “Guess I deserved that for assuming you were gonna fight fair.”

“There’s no such thing as a fair fight outside training. It’s always, ‘do whatever it takes to win’.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Now. About that emotionally and mentally disarming,” he continued. “What did you mean?”

“I was meaning there are ways to surprise one’s opponent into ceasing their attack because their brain stops functioning,” I said. “I’ve done it to Sora before---making a joke that makes him laugh so hard he can’t swing his keyblade.”

Riku smirked. “Fair enough. What were you thinking though? What do you think would emotionally disarm me? Sora and I have quite different personalities.”

“Different personalities and senses of humor maybe, but there is one area where you’re both totally incompetent. I am too but at least I know how to manipulate it.”

“And what area is that?”

“Oh no. I’m not giving away any strategies that easily. What if one day you and I find ourselves on the opposite sides of a battlefield?” I said.

“You really think that would happen?”

“No but I can never be too sure.” I pushed myself up back to my feet.

“Ever the strategist.”

“I try.” I smiled. “C’mon. Weren’t we gonna try to make it to Corona’s castle by nightfall to see Rapunzel and Eugene?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He jumped up and we packed everything up to continue our hike.

*****

“Riku---Riku you have to fight it!” I pleaded, fending off his attacks while barely able to see through my own tears. “Riku! This isn’t darkness! This is just magic! Someone’s taken hold of you! You have to shake them off!”

He whaled on me, never once letting up in a flurry of offensive attacks. The dullness in his eyes gave away the fact that he wasn’t in control. I’d never seen his eyes so blank. Normally they were expressive and vibrant. Seeing them so flat hurt my heart.

“Riku, please!” I begged.

No change.

Except he paused. Just long enough to give me a chance to switch from defense to offense. I returned his attacks in a faster manner. He was strong, but I was faster than he was. I’d watched Terra and Ven spar often enough that I knew the two opposites made for interesting fights.

I forced him back, until he bumped into a wall, and knocked Braveheart---his keyblade---out of his hand. It clattered to the floor and disappeared in a flash. I forced his hands against the wall, restraining him.

“Alright, pretty boy, let’s see if this emotional disarmament is enough to throw the magic out of your system,” I muttered.

Before he could do anything, I leaned up onto my tiptoes since he was so much taller than me and kissed him.

He stopped struggling against me, going completely still.

I pulled away.

He stared at me as shadows oozed out of him and shot into the sky. His eyes returned to normal. “What... what happened?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I emotionally disarmed you long enough that you threw off the magic controlling you,” I said.

“How?”

“Not telling. Might have to do it again.” I smirked and turned to head back to the Gummiship.

Riku caught my elbow. “Do that again and I’m transferring the rest of your training to Master Aqua,” he whispered. Oh---so he did know what I’d done. He’d just been giving me the chance to tell the truth.

“Look, I know it was inappropriate since I’m the mentee and you’re the mentor but if I hadn’t you probably would have beaten me and who knows what you would have gone off to do while under someone else’s control.” I pulled my elbow out of his grip. “Don’t expect me to apologize for my actions. I’ll apologize for being inappropriate and I am sorry for that. But I’m not sorry for stopping you from wreaking havoc.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to. And I wasn’t going to... I didn’t mean it the way you thought I did,” he said.

“Is that so?” I let my keyblade disappear in a flash. “Threatening to send me to another master to finish my training sounds like you’re mad at what I did.”

“I’m not. I’m grateful, actually. You helped me get rid of the magic possessing me. But I meant...” He sighed. “You’re right. It’s not appropriate for a trainer to kiss their trainee. Meaning if I ever wanted to kiss you again, I couldn’t be your trainer anymore. I...” He shook his head. “Let’s head back.” He strode ahead of me, heading for the Gummiship.

I was completely frozen for a second. “Hey wait!” I called, jogging to catch up. “What were you going to say?” I caught up and grabbed his elbow just above his gauntlet. “Riku?”

“Ventus gave you the power of the keyblade because he believes in you. And he trusted me to train you. I can’t let any feelings get in the way of betraying that trust.” He jogged ahead.

“F... feelings?” I slowed to a slow walk while my brain processed. He had feelings for me? “Riku!” I ran forward, chasing him to the Gummiship.

The second I was on board, I heard a familiar voice. “---course I’d be willing to take over her training but... why do I need to?”

Aqua.

I heard Riku sigh from somewhere in the Gummiship. Not too far from the entrance---which was closing after I boarded it.

“Because I went and did something dumber than usual and fell for her.”

Aqua’s gentler laughter echoed in the empty ship. “Well. Drop her by Radiant Garden next chance you two get and I’d be happy to finish out her training. It’d be good practice for me, too---since Terra, Ven, and I thinking of taking on students. Once Ven passes his Mark of Mastery.”

Riku chuckled. “Thanks Aqua. I just... I don’t want...”

“I understand, Riku. There are lines that we shouldn’t cross.”

“Yeah. See ya soon.”

“Bye.”

There was a little beep as Riku hung up. I peeked into the bridge. Riku was leaning against the pilot’s seat with one shoulder, other hand putting his Gummiphone away in his pocket. His eyes were closed and there was a sigh in his posture. “Real feelings?” I asked.

He jumped. “Don’t... scare me like that! I coulda... hurt you!”

“Sorry. But you didn’t answer my questions. Your feelings are real? For... for me?”

“Yeah. Dumb I know.”

“No! It’s not. To tell you the truth, I kinda liked you before you started training me. You were always so nice to Ventus and acknowledged my existence when I was around with him after he became my friend. No one else ever really does that. I’m just a friend of a friend. Always. So... you were always kind to me. And... I liked you. Still do.”

Riku looked me dead in the face. “I hereby formally withdraw my responsibilities as your primary trainer and Keyblade Master,” he said, “and transfer those responsibilities to Master Aqua.”

I nodded. “I accept your withdrawal and transfer,” I said.

He pushed off the pilot seat and approached me. He was tall so I had to look up to maintain eye contact when he got so close to me we were almost touching. “You’ve emotionally disarmed me. Completely. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”

“Can I?”

“Of course.” I lifted up onto my tiptoes so he wouldn’t have to bend down as far.

He stooped and pressed his lips to mine. I met him with fervor.

#I literally used the storm because it was raining when I wrote this #Tal writes #Riku #Riku Imagine #Kingdom Hearts #Kingdom Hearts Imagine #KH #KH Imagine #KH3 spoilers #??? I guess #This has been in my drafts for MONTHS

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steeltowncosplays · 6 years ago

Text

Starbolt Tutorial

At this year’s Philly Wizard World we got a lot of questions on how we made the starbolts for our Starfire and Blackfire costumes. They’re actually pretty simple and don’t take a whole lot of time!

We designed them to be able to encompass our hands so they looked good from all angles, and to be able to light up.

Construction time could take up to three days, but most of that is waiting for paint to dry.

Tutorial under the cut!

Materials:

-Acrylic (plastic) light globe/cover. They’re lightweight and durable. I bought clear ones with no neck, with an 8” diameter and 4” opening. Depending on how big your hands are this size will change. You want it to engulf your whole hand, but not look overly large. A lot of these are glass so make sure you get plastic because glass will be a disaster on so many levels. They were about $15 from amazon.

-PVC pipe. For the handle. I used a ½” diameter because a smaller pipe was more comfortable to hold and easier to shove into the globe.

-Acrylic paint. For Starfire we used lime green, and for Blackfire we used neon purple and pink. Otherwise, use whichever color you’re making this to be. We mixed crackle acrylic paint in with this to see what would happen, and it sort of gave it a texture, but not really, so that’s your prerogative if you would like to try it.

-Matching tulle fabric and solid fabric. For stuffing/light diffusing and covering the handle.

-Push button LED lights. Simple and battery-powered. I bought some pretty cheap ones, and I recommend not doing that, because they broke pretty quickly. Now, they broke on, somehow, which really is the best way to break mid-con, but that did cause the batteries to be worn out by the end of the day and the lights to dim. You have been warned.

-Brillo pad

-Hot melt glue

-Cup of water

So step one is deciding about 10 days before you need them that you are, in fact, going to make these, buy your supplies, and thank God prime is a thing.

While you’re waiting for them to come in, you can contemplate your choices and wonder if, possibly, you made a bad time-management decision, before concluding nah, you totally got this.

(You totally do, no sarcasm)

(The Actual) Step 1: Sanding

The first thing you’re going to want to do is sand the plastic globes. Use a brillo pad (not sandpaper, you don’t want to scratch it up that much) and circular motions so it’s uniform. Make sure you sand both the outside and the inside. Sanding the outside will diffuse the light and help with the glare in pictures. Sanding the inside helps with the paint stick better.

Step 2: Painting

After you sand your globes, rinse them in the sink to get all the powder and whatever else is stuck to them off. You don’t want any of that junk in your paint.

You’ll want four hands for this step, since it’s messy and needs to be done quickly, so grab an unsuspecting (or suspecting) family member before you start.

Pour your paint into a cup and mix some water with it to make it more runny and easy to coat the inside. Then, with your extra set of hands holding the globe, tell them to spin it around while you pour your watered-down paint into the hole at the base. You’ll want to coat as much of the inside as possible, as evenly as possible, like so:

Add more water and paint as needed until the whole thing is coated (or as coated as you can get it, gravity will take care of the rest and the bottom is hard to get paint on without spilling everywhere). Dump out the excess paint and set it on a magazine topped with several paper towels. The paper towels will absorb all the paint that is going to slowly pour out of this thing, and the magazine will catch what bleeds through.

Let it dry overnight, and check back the next day. We gave it about 24 hours to really dry. By this time you’ll have a very thin, even coat on the entire inside, and a huge mess at the mouth, since it all pooled there and could not fully drain or dry.

What you don’t want to do at this point is try to swirl the ball again, since all that will do is streak the rest of the pristine paint job gravity has accomplished for you. What you do want to do is grab those extra set of hands again and have them hold it up for you while you take a paper towel and dab/wipe the inside and outside of the bottom lip where all the extra paint is resting.

“Julia!” you’re probably thinking right now, or maybe not, who knows, “Won’t that also streak the paint where you’re wiping it?” And the answer to that is yes, it will, but only a little. But it doesn’t matter since it’s the bottom by your hand and no one will see it. It’s also where you’ll be gluing the tulle on, so it won’t take away from the final look.

After this step, the paint i used was still a little sticky on the inside, and the bottom won’t be dry either, so prop your globe up on two pieces of something that are the same height but also let air circulate, so it can really dry up over the next 24 hours. Like so:

Step 3: Making and Installing your handle.

Unfortunately I don’t have many progress shots after the paint job because I sprinted to the finish line in maybe two hours late Friday night, so you’ll have to make due with pictures of the finished product.

Theoretically you can start this step while your paint is drying, but I recommend waiting because you’ll need to handle your globe to check for fit as you go, and if it’s not dry you can’t really do that.

I made these handles out of PVC I had lying around, but you can easily buy some at the Home Depot or Lowes or any home supply store. I used this type of pipe:

Because it’s a ½” OD, not ID, so it’s a bit thinner. As I said above it makes the handle nicer to hold and it’s easier to jam it through the hole at the bottom if its diameter is not as wide.

Since I had 8” diameter globes, I measured out an 8” piece, but did not cut it at this length. This is because 8” is the outer diameter. You’ll want to take some calipers and measure the thickness of the plastic at the mouth like so:

And double that (you have two walls). Subtract that from 8” (or however wide your globe is) and that is the absolute maximum your pipe can be. This will still not fit.

Mainly because you have to angle it through a 4” hole. So you’ll want to cut it slightly shorter (not too much shorter!) and test out if you can get it inside. Because it’s a little shorter than the inner diameter, it’ll be further forward than the exact center, and you’ll want to push it as far in as you can when you glue it, so the compression pressure will help hold it in and the globe will cover your hand up to your wrist.

I also found it extremely helpful to line it up with the seams on the side of the globe:

Once your pipe is cut to length and it fits (after a lot of finagling that is), you want to use your brillo pad again to rough up the surface of the pipe and make it more glue-friendly.

You’ll then want to plug up the ends. This gives the ends a bigger surface area to glue, which will make the handle more secure. I used EVA foam, which works well because it responds to every cosplayer’s best friend, Hot Glue, and is compressible (this allows you to stuff it in the end of the pipe AND press it down enough to get your handle in your globe when the EVA plugs inevitable stick out a little bit and make it slightly too long again).

The final step before wrestling your handle inside and gluing it in there is to cover it in fabric that matches your paint. PVC pipe and EVA foam are most definitely not the color you want, and you will most definitely see that from the outside. While spray painting is an option, the fabric has the added bonus of making the handle much more comfortable to hold all day.

This being midnight on Friday I used what I had available, which was leftover purple stretch fabric from starfire’s costume (for Blackfire), and lime green fleece (for Starfire).

The fleece, while a little bulkier, is really nice to hold, so if you want a cushy soft handle, that’s the way to go. It does get a little warmer than the stretch fabric, though. Sweaty palms will potentially be a thing.

Fabric also does pretty well with hot glue, so all you need to do for this is squeeze a line down your pipe and press the fabric to it, and roll the pipe until the seam meets. Glue down whatever didn’t get pressed into the first line of glue, and glue down your ends so the whole handle (EVA plugs included) is covered and now matches.

Now it’s time for install, which is, admittedly, pretty frustrating. The extra bulk of the plugs and fabric will make it dang difficult for you to get the handle inside, but it can be done, with enough tenacity. This is why EVA is great for the plugs, because it can and will be compressed enough to fit.

This next part is super important:

Put your handle into the globe BEFORE (BEFORE!!) you apply the glue.

There is no way you will be able to get it inside without a) having your glue dry before you do, b) getting glue everywhere, and c) probably burning yourself.

Once your handle is inside, push it forward as far as you can and line it up with the globe’s side-seams, to check the fit and get a handle (heh) on what its final position will be. Face your fabric seams towards the hole at the bottom.

When you’ve psyched yourself up enough to actually try gluing this thing, dislodge it from its position and angle one end towards the hole at a time, and apply the hot glue. Shove it back to where it was before, lined up and facing the right way, wait for the glue to solidify, and TADA.

The most stressful part of making this prop is done.

Step 4: Stuffing

This next bit is pretty easy and takes only a few minutes, though you are liable to burn yourself during it so be careful where you put those fingers.

Or maybe that’s just me.

We bought 2 yards of tulle, and I ended up using most of it. It really depends on how you want it to look, but there should be a balance. Too little tulle and you’ll just get a white light that’s too bright and not diffused enough, but too much tulle and the whole thing gets dull. Test how much tulle you’ll need by taking photographs of your starbolt to see how it looks in pictures.

To stuff these, all I did was shove the tulle inside and pull it around the handle, moving it until it was pretty evenly distributed throughout the globe and I liked how it looked, both with and without the light on.

I then cut off the excess tulle that was still hanging out of the bottom and then stuffed the ends back inside so they ring the lip:

Before you glue: make sure the tulle is not getting in the way of the handle!! As you can see here:

There is tulle covering the handle, but when i go to hold it, it does not prevent me from making a fist around the handle, nor does it pull, and is overall comfortable.

Take your glue gun once you’re ready and tack it down around the bottom lip. Make sure to catch whichever layers are there to make sure it’s secure. The tulle will pretty much stay put once you do this, so you don’t need to worry about gluing any other spots (which would show, anyway).

Once you’ve done this, you’re just about finished! It should look really cool and swirly now.

Step 5: Installing your lights

This took a bit of experimentation to figure out the best orientation for these, but lucky for you we’ve done all that experimentation already.

Because your hand inside this prop, it’s going to block light, and you will not get the “glow radiating from the center” look you want by mounting something near the front of your hand.

After some trial and error, we figured out that two lights, one above and one below your hand, provided enough light to light up the whole ball:

You’ll see shadows of them on the outside, but there’s really nothing you can do to avoid that. You could use smaller lights, but you might have to do some wiring if you do, since push button LEDs are normally this big.

Attaching the lights is pretty simple, you’ll just want to make sure you’ve installed your batteries beforehand. While the design of this allows you to change the batteries of your lights, it’s not as easy to do once they’re inside and you can’t use both hands.

Once we figured the position for these lights, all I did was put some hot glue on the back, and press it into the tulle inside the ball. If the tulle is glued down enough, this should hold them in there really well.

Once you’ve done that, TADA, you now have working starbolts!

#starfire #starfire cosplay #cosplay #teen titans #teen titans cosplay #steeltowntutorials #blackfire #blackfire cosplay

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gabriellapatterson-blog · 7 years ago

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What goes bump in the night? More like who steals shoes in the night.

A/N thanks for the RP @natalyabloom and @wyattschreave

I sat in bed dangling the small phone about arms length above my head watching a youtube video called “only 1% of people will figure out these insane riddles” I knew I wouldn’t be able to get it but I loved the “OHHHHH DANG” moments.

Suddenly my grip faltered and smack the phone went on my nose. “Ow ow ow ow!” I yelped as I picked the phone up off of my face and rubbed my nose. “Alright, that’s enough of you.” I mumbled to myself as I got up and returned the phone to my desk. I paused for a moment and looked at the picture of Emma and I. I sighed a bit to myself. I missed Emma deeply, I missed my goofy friend who would watch videos with me. I need some friends here too.

I “plopped back down on my bed and started to think of the girls. I could approach someone from my group from the political lessons? Maybe they’d want to be friends? OH NATALYA. I should do apologize to Natalya. We argued back at the lessons but she seems like a smart girl, maybe we could be friends.

I got up from my bed and walked over to her room and then knocked on her door, “Hi Natalya, it's me Gabriella from the political lessons.” I introduced from outside.

A maid came and opened the door, “Excuse me, Miss. I hope you won’t mind coming back later. Lady Natal-”

Suddenly Natalya appeared standing next to the maid in her reading glasses and spoke softly to her maid, “I told you to stop calling me that. I’ve got it from here, Raylen. You can go back in and…I don’t know, the bathroom is covered in soil.” Soil?

“Yes?” She asked addressing me.

“Oh! Hi yes! I was hoping I could talk with you for a moment, may I come in?”

She turned around quickly and went into her room, “Watch out for the floor.” The floor? As I walked in there were plants everywhere. It was so cool. This had to be the best decorating job in the palace.

“Oh wow! Your room is so cool it’s like a mini garden!” I exclaimed.

Natalya sat down on her bed next to a stack of books, “Yes, I guess it’s sort of my thing…So, what is it?”

“I like animals myself but plants are really cute too and oh right! I just wanted to make sure you knew I was sorry for the...debate during the lessons today. I can get kind of competitive so I got a little too into it. You seem like a super smart and interesting girl though so I'd like to try and be friends with you if that’s alright.” Maybe that was too direct.

She slightly adjusted her glasses, “A surprising amount of you girls are awfully blunt. But…I guess I should apologize too. I was out of it that day.” She then flattened her hair a bit, “Still am.” She added.

“I prefer to be direct. It makes things much more simple. Why do you think you were out of it? Did you get enough sleep?” I asked.

“Not exactly. Being Selected is much more stressful than I thought.” I wonder where she gets stress from? I think this is fun. We’ll the lessons were stressful but overall this has been more fun and exciting than stressful. I suppose though that’s because I’m spending a lot of time with Ben and he’s fun and exciting to me.

“Hmmm, well what's something that you love to do back at home. I normally visit the ocean when I'm stressed which has been helping me…” I paused and looked around, “Do the plants help you?” I asked.

“Botany, the science of plants, though some of them dive more into the field of hydroponics, still a part of botany. So, yes.” ????

“Hydro what now? Sorry I'm a bit of a moron. The caste of a 3 is misleading.” Hydro means water. I got that far.

She smiled a bit. Yes! She’s warming up to me, “The science of growing plants without fertilizer or dirt.” WHAT

“What the!? That sounds amazing! How do they do it?” I asked honestly eager to learn. I loved learning new things and this just seemed so interesting.

“It involves mixing nutrients usually found in fertilizer into the water. I could show you if you want. It’s not all that complicated.” She can show me? Like right here? This is like an episode of Bill Nye.

“Please do, it sounds so cool! I always sucked at growing plants. I'm too forgetful for them, I did have a cactus that lived a long time though. It was a good fit for me.”

She stood from the bed and made her way over to a drawer, “You probably weren’t all that bad. Cacti are actually surprisingly hard to maintain.” She then took two bottles out of the drawer and began to shake them, “The gardens here are maintained wonderfully, though.”

“I had them in my windowsill so they got plenty of sun, when they had those like purple flowers blossom it was really pretty. I was very proud. Somehow I've managed to take care of our dog Gregory though. He's a very silly dog. A very big diva.”

She brought the bottles over to one of the plants and poured the nutrients into what almost looks like a small pool of water that the plant sat in, the colors of the shampoo swirl around and disappear quickly, like a small leaf tornado. “You have a dog too? What kind?”

“Oooh! That was cool! And he's a poodle. Fitting for his personality. His favourite color is salmon. Not a hue off.”

Natalya and I seemed to get along well. I’m glad we were able to get through all of that drama from the political lessons. As I thought back to the lessons my idea for vengeance on Wyatt came to mind. Natalya seemed to like Wyatt though, not in a romantic way of course that would be inappropriate and I really don’t know her too well. But, she didn’t seem to dislike him. I suppose you could say the same for me, I just had a slight annoyance for him here and there but he was still interesting to talk with. Anyways, maybe I should just ask instead of trying to guess her perspective.

“By the way you acted really well with prince Wyatt. Are you two friends?” I asked deciding a lead in would be best.

She sat up suddenly looking startled, “Uh, yes, I think I’m close with the prince.” She answered. Huh. Maybe there is something more there. That’s a rather large reaction to a small question.

“Do you think he's slightly deserving of being pranked? Two times now he's been kind of rude to me, not rude enough for like pain but for sure pranking. I need a partner in crime.” I asked deciding to brush past my suspicion. If she had feelings for him that was between the two of them. If later she decided to talk to me as a friend that was up to her, but I wasn’t going to prod.

“I’ve never pulled a prank on anyone before.” She answered. First time for everything.

“I have many times. I'm actually pretty good at it. I got the idea early on to switch all of my horrible heels with his nice comfy shoes. You can add yours to the pile if you'd like. You in?” Maybe she would be tempted by the idea to lose her stilts too.

She sighed and pet her hair down, “Well, I have a pair of bright purple six inch tie ups I’m sure he’d look gorgeous in.”

I smiled widely, “Wonderful. We can lipstick so he knows what to match them with. Can you ask one of your maids for like a cart so we can roll the heels upstairs. Oh! Wait one us distract him while the other goes in.” I suggested. I should probably distract, if I did the sneaky work we’d end up with all of his shoes falling in the hallway and the cart toppled.

She agreed and said one of her maids should be able to get the cart for us. We gathered the heels and began to push the cart up. We used one of the elevators that the staff used when taking carts of food to people. Soon we made it sneakily up to the royals hall.

I turned and nodded at Natalya to let her know I was moving out and went down the hall to his room and promptly knocked on his door, “Wyatt! Come quickly! Its Gabriella!” I shouted.

There was the sound of clatter as he seemed to rush to the door knocking over things on his way out, “What?! What’s wrong?” He asked as he looked me up in down probably for an injury. He seemed to notice I was fine and straightened himself up, “How did you even get up here?” He asked.

“Doesn't matter. Come look at this!” I replied loudly so Natalya would hear and grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway.

He seemed surprised as I pulled him down and looked back over his shoulder once more, “Where are we going?”

“It's something amazing. you'll love to see it. I thought of you right away. It has to do with one of your many interests.”

He looked confused as I looked back at his face, my eyes quickly catching a glance of Natalya as she made her way into Wyatt’s room. “My many interests?” He asked as stopped walking, “Gabriella, what’s this really about?” Crap crap crap we weren’t to the vase yet. I need a conversation topic. I glanced around quickly.

“Oh we're here!” I said and gestured to the wall, “ It's your favorite thing. A wall. They're very interesting right. But this wall, is really cool because like look at it it's so cool. They wall paper looks more like it's painted than it is just with a paper over it.”

He looked blankly at the wall for a moment before turning and ripping my soul out of my body with an ice cold glare and throwing it in the trashcan of hell. This is it. This is how I die. Murdered at the hands of Wyatt.

“Alright don't be mad.” I said and put my hands up defensively. Natalya isn’t out yet, oh fiddlesticks. A new conversation topic. Um….BEN.

“The truth is.......I need advice...it's just awkward to ask....ummmm......” I said making long pauses to insure I was stalling well.

He pressed his lips together for a moment before he let out a sigh, “ About what?”

“well it's about your brother, so I'm trying to figure out what I should get him for his birthday. My family has a tradition of making...well, I'll keep that part hidden. But we do handmade gifts but I know some people don't like them so well I was wondering if you knew if Ben did?” I gave a small fib to add a little extra time. Yes my family made handmade things as a tradition but we didn’t make one specific thing. I just figured the awkward pause would give Nat some more time.

“Handmade gifts?” He asked with a snort, “Have you met him? Yes, he likes them. Though... I guess it depends on how weird you make it.” What would I make that would be weird?

I chuckled, “They're not too weird. Just small little things. What are you getting him? Or doing for him?” I asked trying to move along the conversation as I waited for Natalya.

“How do I know you’re not going to tell him? Maybe this is all a plan to figure out what I’m getting him ahead of time.” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “He always does that.” He always sends a spy to find out what Wyatt got him for his birthday?

“Why in the world would I try and tell him that.” I trailed off for a moment as I saw natalya pulling out of there and heading for out meetup location, “I'm a fan of surprises so if you're just trying to keep it a secret then I get that. Anyways, I have something to go do now, so I'll talk to you later.” I exited and pat him on his shoulder as I past him and briskly made my way to natalya.

“wait—“ He said and started to follow me.

“Run. Run. Run.” I ordered to natalya as we made it back together and made out escape.

“HEY, WHAT JUST HAPPENED?” I heard him yell. We stopped and waited a moment a little curious of the aftermath.

“OH, YOU LITTLE—” There was distant yelling as he seemed to realize that he had been hustled. I couldn’t help but to burst out in laughter as we had won and made our way back to his room.

Turns out Wyatt had tiny feet. So small his shoes didn’t fit either natalya or I. So we decided we had to send them back. But- not that simply. Wyatt would be gaining his shoes back one left shoe at a time.

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whatisshelties · 4 years ago

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Dang.

So last night I saw someone on a local dog sport group asking for Hoopers classes. Hoopers is not a sport in the US. Hoopers as a sport was developed from one particular class in NADAC, an agility organization.

It made me think of how “Extreme Games Challenge,” a NADAC experiment that I think started in 2010, was set up as essentially a separate sport. I think it started with three classes, X-Gaters, X-Chances, and X-Hoopers, then later added Barrel Racing. It had totally different scoring, different titling requirements. You actually DID get docked points for ‘refusals!’ Scoring was time plus faults and there were no Qs, just points earned or eliminations after you got too many faults. Points were given based on a ‘Run Index.’ The faster/cleaner you were, the more points you earned per run.

I’m guessing most clubs weren’t interested in hosting events that were only EGC, so eventually they started letting clubs add a class (or was it two?) to a six run agility trial. I think the rules were still different at that point. Eventually the scoring was changed to be more like ‘normal’ agility. Then two of the classes were dropped and the other two were turned into Hoopers and Barrelers, as those were the two most unique classes. (Well, Hoopers was already thing, so this just merged the THREE versions of Hoopers together.) X-Hoopers featured a ‘circle’ that was created out of ‘gates.’ It was actually a really cool thing that could help encourage dogs to work at a distance! I will admit it did get a bit confusing/boring to pass through it over and over again, lol. Oh, and Barrel Racing went through so many changes and some were much more fun than others, lol.

ANYWAY, I was sad about this because the Europe has Hoopers as it’s own sport now, but we don’t have anything like that. It’s not held back trying to be agility. It can be its own thing.

Cue tonight: NADAC sent out a survey and is considering a merge of Hoopers and Barrelers! It gave me such mixed feelings as I selfishly want more classes to enter Mud in without jumps and other equipment, but I’m also very pro streamlining the class offerings. I’ve pretty much always voted to get rid of classes even if I like them because there are TOO MANY. Clubs can’t offer them all in one weekend, which means we have a decreased opportunity to run them anyway. Might as well change it to one class that it is easier for clubs to offer it every trial vs having to alternate between like 6 choices.

Honestly thinking the US is going to need a separate ‘path based’ sport going forward. I have ‘asking permission to use the old EGC rules as a starting point for a new sport’ swirling in my head. Another option would be seeing if a Hoopers org would start sanctioning events in the US. I would find this option incredibly absurd considering NADAC is the source of Hoopers in the first place.

#dog agility #hoopers #????

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arplis · 4 years ago

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Arplis - News: The old Green Lantern battery is running on low, as we’ve almost reached the present, so it’s time to wind down this review of non-career superheroes and their various exploits and follie

s. While time, however, is running out, the creative spark still continues to flow through several recent productions, bringing back classic characters in new powerful misadventures. To start things off on a highly positive note, we’ll first review a couple of episodes from Pink Panther and Pals, the most recent (and one of the best) revivals of the DePatie-Freleng franchise. While Panther is visibly modified into a junior adolescent form, his spirit and pantomme humor remain intact, and comic inventiveness continues to excel. This is also true of the revival of his stablemates, the Ant and the Aardvark, one of whose episodes shall be the first examined. In Zeus Juice (3/7/10), Aardvark is having more trouble than usual keeping up with Ant (who in this incarnation has the personality of a wise-cracking Chris Rock instead of a Dean Martin drawl, though Aardvark retains his Joey Bishop persona), as ant prides himself on working out, and claims to be the speediest thing in the jungle. Before he can build up his muscles, Aardvark realizes he must develop muscles to build up. So he goes on line looking on the web for a quick-fix muscle builder. He encounters an ad for a super-juicer – a mixmaster with recipes guaranteed to provide super strength and vitality. Purchasing the product, Aardvark first tries a mixture to produce legs of steel – a concoction of fruit juices and fish oils. At first, nothing – then his legs begin to swell, and his feet start pounding the turf of their own volition. His legs take off like the Road Runner, with Aardvark’s long nose trailing helplessly behind on the ground. He finally manages to come to a stop, conveniently at the door to ant’s anthill. A pound on the ground from his “thunder thighs” jostles Ant out of his bath and up the hole, where he sees the new physique of his adversary. Racing for dear life, Ant looks back and reacts, “He’s a freak of nature. I can’t outrun that freight train.” Instead, Ant hides begind a rock – a few feet from the edge of a cliff. Aardvark sees the cliff coming, and tries his best to stop, skidding until he is hanging onto the cliff with his arms, his legs danging over the edge. “You know what he needs?”, comments Ant, “Ant-i lock brakes.” As Aardvark grabs Ant with his nose, Ant climbs up Aardvark’s face and yanks on his ear, which acts as an ignition key to stat Aardvark’s legs again. Aardvark is pulled by the sheer speed of his legs off the cliff face and onto mid-air. Looking down in horror, Aardvark tells us, “Next time, I’ll use flying fish oil.” As he falls, Ant meanders home, stating “I better call somebody to clean that up.” If at first you don’t succeed. Aardvark’s next recipe is for super-vision. His eyes develop red swirls – and suddenly fire a laser beam at his front door, leaving a charred hole. “Suddenly I’m in the mood for a barbecue”, he says. He arrives at ant’s home, and invites him to come out to observe his “new look”. Ant believes Aardvark’s been eating too many jalapenos, which would account for the red swirlies in his eyes. But a blast from Aardvark’s lasers blackens the surface of the anthill. “After all this time, it looks like you finally got me”, says Ant. “Go ahead, fry me.” Aardvark revs up his eyes for a fatal blow, but Ant produces a mirror at the last split second – and the reflected beam chars Aardvark’s head to a powder. “I’d stay out of the sun if I were you”, retorts Ant. “Your head looks a little well done.” Recipe #3: Super smell. Aardvark’s already pronounced nose develops biceps of its own, prompting Ant to inquire if his sinuses are acting up. Aardvark turns on his vacuum power at super level – but only succeeds in sucking himself into his own nose, rolling him up like a pill bug. “Hey, you need a ride home?” asks Ant, giving him a kick to roll him back to his cave. Recipe #4: Since physical strength has failed, how about a super mind? Aardvark returns to Ant’s hill with lobes swollen five times their normal size. Ant inquires, “It looks like that hurts.” “Well, a little”, responds Aardvark, “…but enough already! Now you’ll never outsmart me.” So ant instead poses him a question he’s been pondering for years: “Why can’t you ever catch me?” The old unanswerable question trope strikes again, and, as Ant produces an umbrella to avoid the splatter, Aardvark’s head explodes. Aardvark is finally through with the juicer, dumping it in the trash can. He returns to the ant hill, vowing to get his meal the good old fashioned way. Turning on his vacuum nose, he miraculously sucks out the Ant on the first try. “I did it. It’s a miracle”, shouts Aardvark. Suddenly, from inside his nose, Aardvark is repeatedly judo flipped. Out of his nose emerges Ant – buffed like a miniature Hercules, thanking Aardvark for turning him on to the juicer. Aardvark lays prone on the ground, and closes with the line, “Next time I’m hungry, I’ll order pizza.” Pink! Pow! Kaboom! (Pink Panther and Pals, 8/13/10) – Pink Panther faces the same dilemma as Bart Simpson in an earlier post in this series – an irresistible collector’s comic in a comics store window – and only a buck to his name. When proprietor Big Nose (who’s priced the collectible with a tag reading “$$$”) sees Pink’s single bill, not only does he respond with humiliating laughter, but for the price hands Pink a stack of blank paper and a pencil – draw your own. Ponk returns home, and sets to work from the inside out – leaping onto the paper itself, drawing a box around him, and filling in the details as he goes. He draws in a city – but finds it inhabited by a humongous green monster, who begins a destructive rampage. Pink realizes he holds the upper hand, as his pencil is equipped with an eraser, and begins to erase the giant’s toes. The giant flings him into the skies with a snap of his fingers. Pink counters by drawing a super suit around himself (some padding might have helped, as it deflates from muscular build to his puny skinny form the moment after it is drawn). Pink begins some playful fun with the monster, drawing two windows in mid-air so he can pop in and out of them. When the giant looks in, Pink pencils his face with clown make-up, then holds up a mirror to emphasize the embarrassment. Pink next pulls a “Duck Amuck” tribute, changing the backgrounds behind the monster in mid-chase, causing him to slide on ice into a snowdrift (leaving a hole in the snow in the silhouette of a jackass), then coming out the other side as a giant snowman. Pink changes the background again to a desert scene, and melts the giant’s snow away. He draws and offers to the perspiring giant a huge glass of water – then renders his need totally unnecessary by drawing him into the middle of the ocean. Pink flushes him away by pulling a plug, returning the background to a cityscape. The giant returns from the sewer, but Pink crosses him out with the pencil and redesigns him as a baby in a baby carriage. But even a baby monster has powers, and the creature lets out with a super-bawl that has the power of an atom bomb – sending the entire comic book blasting through Pink’s roof, to land outside on a city sidewalk. Back in the comic, Pink finds himself prone on the ground, and the giant somehow regrown to his original form. On top of that, the giant has taken Pink’s supersuit, and tears the suit in half. The giant generates a force field from his fists, which encircles Pink – and from which emerge an army of giants like himself. Still wielding the pencil, Ponk faces the situation with determination, and a heroic glint in his eye, as the camera angles change to a tribute to anime. Swinging the pencil like a Samurai, Pink erases giant after giant in a ferocious battle – until the street is cleared, save the original monster, for a final showdown. With a roar, the monster charges at Pink, and Pink charges at the monster. They meet in the center, Pink wildly swinging his pencil. Pink lands unharmed, but the point breaks off his pencil tip. The giant chuckles fiendishly – but looks down to find his parts separated from each other by broad strokes of emptiness from the eraser. With a clatter, he disassembles and falls in a heap of parts to the ground. Pink has reached the last panel on the comics page, and exits the completed book. As fate would have it, the sidewalk on which the comic landed is right outside Big Nose’s shop, as Big Nose returns to open up. He spies the new comic on the ground, and is impressed by its artwork. He reaches into his pocket for some cash for a purchase – but Pink insists on a trade – for the collector’s item in the window. Reluctantly, Big Nose can’t resist, and the rare prize becomes the panther’s own. Inside the shop. Big Nose settles down to read Pink’s masterwork, when the huge green hand of the monster emerges from its pages and hauls Big Nose inside, the pages closing as thuds, thumps, and leaping pages denote the battle resuming all over again within. Then there is Garfield (as promised from last week’s article). He’s undergone some considerable changes in recent times – the first being a move to CGI (in a few feature films, and then in a series of direct to video features starting with Garfield Gets Real). Garfield’s Pet Force (6/16/09) is one of these, and not very super at all. Some primary problems of this feature series were as follows. First, instead of keeping Garfield rooted in reality, he, Jon and Odie are now residents of Cartoon World, outwardly aware of their fictional nature, something like Heckle and Jeckle. (One particularly good line results from this, in a scene where Garfield is twisted like a spiral in a torture device, but feeling no pain – “I’m a cartoon character. I do squash and stretch for a living.”). Instead of being a career cartoonist, Jon now takes Odie and Garfield to a TV-like studio, where they “film” a comic strip for each issue. And the various animal characters actually talk, and Jon and Liz can understand them, instead of merely being heard by the audience through thought projection. The whole thing is rather unnerving for old-school fans of the show. Top that with the fact that the personalities of two of the principals are altered or watered-down. Garfield still gets jokes on food, fatness, and laziness, but seems to have lost the power to insult or belittle, making no particular zingers about canine stupidity or even Nermal’s ability to aggravate. And Nermal, instead of playing the innocent or thriving on reputation as world’s cutest kitten, now seems to have swapped personalities with Scrappy Doo, just generally diving into trouble. Egad! Plotwise, it’s a convoluted tale of a parallel universe, in which an animal superhero squad are the guardians of the kingdom of a Jon-lookalike monarch, who shares with Jon a complete lack of talent in attracting women. Garfield’s parallel (Garzooka) talks in a resonant superhero voice, is muscular in build, stands about four times taller than Garfield, and is leader of the Pet Force – his powers being super strength, and radioactive hairballs. Odie’s counterpart specializes in stunning blows with his tongue. The counterpart to Arlene (Garfield’s new girlfriend) gives icy stares that freeze her victims in place. And Nermal’s counterpart has super speed. Enter a counterpart to Liz, visiting from another planet. King Jon falls for her instantly, babbling out an instant proposal of marriage. Oddly, she accepts – only for purposes of getting her hands on a set of keys to the royal arsenal, to obtain the kingdom’s latest invention – a molecular scrambler gun that not only mutates its targets into combinations of each other’s parts, but renders them mindless zombies under the shooter’s control. Three of the Pet Force are so mutated, and only Garzooka escapes, nabbing away the Klopman crystal (a counterpart to the original series’ recurring references to the Klopman diamond), which is the scrambling gun’s power source. With the assistance of the gun’s inventor, Garzooka also obtains vials of serum to endow the powers of his mutated comrades to new replacements, and the space coordinates of the only other residents of the galaxy with DNA matches to his fallen comrades. He takes off in a space ship to find the “matches” – Nermal, Odie, and Arlene. Garfield himself gets rather left out of the superhero action (since Garzooka is still in charge), while his friends take the serum and acquire the powers within. Garfield’s only real connection to the storyline is a brief assignment to guard the Klopman crystal – which, despite slipping it into a glass of lemonade as an “ice” cube, is eventually discovered by the villainess who follows Garzooka to Cartoon World. The villainess zombifies most of the population, and orders them to obliterate the Pet Force. The Force heads for a tall tower in the center of town, in hopes of using the structure as a giant harpoon to spear the villainess’s ship, while the zombie army pursues and corners them for a showdown. Garfield finally decides, against his nature, to become “involved”, and, standing on the shoulders of one of the co-workers at the comic-strip studio, devises a Garzooka disguise, luring the zombie army back to the studio to march en masse into a trap door opening to the cellar. The diversion allows the Pet Force to harpoon the ship. The villainess counters by mutating half the buildings in town into a giant metallic monster. Garfield somehow survives the chase, trips up the monster, obtains the ray gun, and mutates the villainess into a “good” girl who apologizes and accepts the position as loving queen. The film tells a story, yes – it’s just not a Garfield story. The Garfield Show, a more recent revival, at least returns the characters to the contemporary suburbs. However, it retains from the prior incarnation the animal characters continuing to talk with actual lip movements. It compromises a bit back toward the old days, striving for a halfway poont between the original and the non-abrasive Garfield, and between the “cute” verses the proactive Nermal. Super Me (12/21/09) – Garfield and Nermal watch the television adventures of hero “Ultra Powerful Guy”. Garfield as usual won’t share his snacks with Nermal during the viewing, and yields the bag of potato chips only when its contents have been emptied. Nermal stands up for himself, telling Garfield he doesn’t need his snacks, as he can get them all by himself. “This I gotta see”, said Garfield. Nermal seats himself on the sidewalk, and puts on his most adorable cute-kitten face and irresistible meows. A car stops abruptly, its occupants mesmerized by Nermal’s cuteness – and they just can’t resist handing over to Nermal an entire pepperoni pizza with mushroms and Canadian bacon. Garfield’s jaw drops in amazement, as he races over to get a share of the take. But now it’s Nermal who claims to have nothing left to share. Garfield complains that he’d bet Nermal would share if Ultra Powerful Guy were around – then states to the audience, “Idea happening.” Fashioning a supersuit out of old clothes from Jon’s closet, Garfield follows Nermal to a phone booth where Nermal is looking up local cat shows to win, and props a broom against the booth door, trapping Nermal inside. He then dives on the broom from the roof of the booth in his outfit as Ultra Powerful Guy, making a “rescue”. Nermal reacts in disbelief that Ultra Powerful Guy is so short and round in build, but feels indebted to him in view of the timely rescue. Garfield convinces Nermal that superheroes need to eat, too, and suggests as a reward that Nermal turn on some of his “cute” magic to drum up an entree. Nermal repeats his performance at the curbside, and stops another motorist in his tracks, who just happens to have a heaping plate of spaghetti and meatballs. This reward suits Garfield fine. After devouring it, he notes “You know what goes great after spaghetti for desert? Anything!” He rigs another rescue of Nermal, pushing a trash dumpster to roll down a steep hill. Garfield rides atop the dumpster to issue a timely warning for Nermal to get out of the way. At the foot of the hill, two would-be bank robbers debate holding up the bank, but are fearsome that Ultra Powerful Guy might be in the vicinity. On cue, Garfield’s trash dumpster reaches the end of the line, and Garfield falls inside the trash. Garfield emerges with a banana draped over his head, noting that this never happens to Batman. He removes his soiled mask – and the crooks believe they’ve just witnessed the hero’s true secret identity – a fat cat. Unafraid, they decide the time is ripe for bank robbery after all. Garfield meanwhile returns to Nermal, demanding a reward of a banana cream pie with chocolate sprinkles. Nermal’s best “cute” face only reaps a chocolate cream pie with banana sprinkles. “Close enough”, saus Garfield. An alarm nearby reveals the crooks making a getaway from the bank. Nermal pyshes a reluctant Garfield forward to apprehend the culprits. The crooks state they are not afraid, as they know Ultra Powerful Guy’s secret and his weakness. They drop before Garfield a catnip mouse. Nermal sees instant hearts, and flips onto his back to play with the toy. Garfield isn’t affected in the least, and states that nect time, they should try stuffing the mouse with lasagna. Their plan not working, the crooks head for their getaway car, catching Garfield’s cape in the door. Another predicament Garfield insists would never happen to Batman. Garfield is dragged down the street, frantically yelling for assistance and to let him off at the earliest opportunity. But who should arrive to stop the getaway, but Ultra Powerful Man himself, thanking Garfield for delaying the crooks long enough for him to arrive. Nermal catches up to congratulate the hero on the amazing capture – then notes that there are now two of them. He asks which is the real one, and both Garfield and the hero chime in unison “I am”. “Now c’mon, that’s not fair”, says Nermal, and asks them again. “I am” comes the simultaneous reply. “Aw, really, which one of you is it?” Garfield and the hero exchange winks, as they are starting to enjoy this, and for the remainder of the night, continue to frustrate Nermal with their united response of “I am”. The Amazing Flying Dog (12/22/09) seems more aimed at the younger viewers than usual, attempting to build a meager plotline about Odie’s daydreams of being a caped superhero and flying to the rescue of a cute poodle he has his eyes on. His daydreams include a rescue of the pooch from a burning building (using flying power to pull her from a fiery balcony, and ice breath to blow out the fire), and from the passenger seat of a car careening without brakes backwards down a steep hill. Garfield keeps waking him from his dreams, and eventually breaks it to him that “Dogs can’t fly!” Then Garfield tries to cross a road under construction, and his feet get caught in fresh asphault. The poodle tries to rescue Garfield, and gets stuck too. Here comes the steamroller. Odie hears the calls for help, and gives one last try to jumping off the roof. His ears extend, and he soars aeronautically like Dumbo, swooping in to make a nick of time rescue. Garfield turns to the audience, asking in complete puzzlement, “Did you see…” – and then awakes from his own dream about Odie. The episode peacefully ends, with the nagging question of what is life, and what is reality? The Caped Avenger Rides Again (9/10/12) – Jim Davis expected a long memory from his viewers, harkening back in this installment to his original “Caped Avenger” from 1988 previously reviewed in these articles – without barely so much as a recap to establish Garfield’s previous venture into superherodom. Jon is making a personal appearance at a comic book store to sign autographs, and Garfield brings along his Caped Avenger outfit just in case. To no viewer’s surprise, nobody shows up for Jon’s nom de plume. The store proprietor, an old-timer in the business, is disappointed at the lack of turnout, and says he’s tries everything to drum up buisiness, but attendance has slipped off drastically. He even has a rare first edition comic on display as another attraction, but still no interest. The comic isn’t even his – only there on a loan from its owner, with the condition that an armed guard be posted on duty at all times. Mysteriously, when everyone is engaged in conversation, a crash is heard. The front window is broken, and the guard seemingly knocked unconscious, with the rare first edition gone. Upon reviving the guard, he claims the assailant wore a mask, and can provide no detailed description. Garfield reverts to his Caped Avenger costume to play amateur sleuth, and Odie joins him in the same Superman style outfit used in the 1988 episode, as his sidekick, Slurp (Garfield lifting a line of dialogue straight out of the original cartoon, that the sidekick must never dress better than the superhero). They skulk through some back alleys for clues, as the film suddenly becomes slightly 2D for a flashback to provide an origin story (much in the way cutaway sequences were used in some of the “Power Pig” episodes for side-trips in the storyline of the original show). A few reasonable gags appear in the flashback. Garfield searches for an image that will strike fear in the hearts of the criminal element, so fashions his first costume as his own scariest nightmare – a pizza with anchovies. Not very effective. Converting to proper attire, the Avenger and Slurp hit the streets. Hearing a citizen’s cries of a despicable – and dangerous – villain robbing the bank, Garfield decides this is a job for – his sidekick, and tells Odie to look him up when it’s over in Bermuda. But the robber (a lobster-clawed supervillain) blocks Garfield’s attempt to exit carrying a surfboard. Garfield tries to convince the villain to give up, in view of Garfield’s devastating super powers. Garfield demonstrates super speed by running clear around the world – arriving back about a minute later, completely winded, and complaining that he was held up in a traffic jam in Luxembourg. Garfield demonstrates super strength by lifting the heaviest object in the vicinity – himself – eventually losing his grip, as he acknowledges “Jon was right, I do need to lose a few pounds.” Instead of surrendering, the villain throws Garfield through a brick wall. As Garfield notices the stray bricks on his side of the wall, something clicks in his memory, and he reverts back to reality, returning with Odie to the shop. The glass of the broken window is outside, not inside the store, indicating that the thief nroke the window from the inside. The security guard is spotted attempting to sneak out of the store – with comic book hidden inside his coat. An obligatory chase (in which Garfield uncharacteristically runs at a speed far beyond the expected velocity of an overweight cat) leads to a blind alley, with an inclined board the only route over a fence. Garfield and Odie find it first, and lay a trap. As the guard mounts the board to leap over the wall, Garfield and Odie position a trash dumpster on the other side, then slam its lid down as the guard lands inside, Garfield sitting on the lid to prevent the guard’s escape. The police make the arrest, the comic book is retruned, and the comics store has a new attraction that finally draws customers – the Caped Avenger in person. Garfuels asides to the audience, “Batman, eat your heart out.” The Superhero Apprentice (9/10/12) – Last time, we were expected to remember an episode from 1988. This time, we’re unbelievably supposed to forget a central plot point from the previous episode in the same half-hour! All memory is supposed to disappear that Odie has already been used twice as a sidekick. The comic book store has been saved by the publicity of the Caped Avenger’s solving of the comic book mystery, and its proprietor has invested in an expected shipment of Avenger action figures, which has fans lined up around the block awaiting delivery. Footage of the Avenger’s capture of the criminal (now how did they happen to have camera shots of the dumpster capture in the blind alley?) has gone viral, only eclipsed by a #1 video of the world’s cutest singing kitten – Nermal. But Nermal fears the Avenger’s popularity is striking too close to home, and might topple him from the #1 berth. Meanwhile (ignoring Odie’s previous involvement in the chase and capture), the comic book guy reveals in a news interview that consensus of fan opinion is that the Avenger should take on a sidekick. Garfield ponders this as a serious issue, realizing all the past great heroes had sidekicks. Odie prances around, demonstrating his willingness to join up – but choosy Garfield instead holds open interviews for the position. All applicants disappear after Garfield lets slip that they’ll be placing their life on the line for no pay. One runaway (a Chihuahua) encounters dejected Nermal, and the dog’s costume gives Nermal the idea that the only way to counter a superhero is with a supervillain. Nermal recruits the dog as his own assistant, and acquires a wrestling mask and cape as a disguise for himself. That night, the newly-evil duo doctor a “bat-signal” for the Avenger outside the comics store, to make the Avenger’s image paunchy and ridiculous. They also show up at the unveiling of the action figures. Garfield, however, also arrives, having seen video footage of the attack on his signaler, and, sensing a need for assistance, has finally relented and hired Odie as his partner “Slurp”. The delivery of the figures is interrupted by the Chihuahua nipping at the truck driver’s heels, while Nermal commandeers the truck, with just one catch – he doesn’t know how to drive. The truck takes off on a downhill road, with puny Nermal clinging to the spinning steering wheel, unable to reach the brakes. Garfield pursues, stumbling on a street trash can and running atop it like a log roller, finally thrown onto the roof of the moving truck. The truck crashes into the fence of a trash collection center, throwing Garfield and Nermal over the fence and into a chute for trash disposal. Inside, they face a conveyor belt of chopping and shredding contraptions, with a flattening wheel at the end of the belt. Garfield and Nermal race against the speed of the belt to keep from being pressed into pizzas. Odie appears, looking through a hatchway above. Garfield calls him for “doggie tongue”, and Odie lowers his long appendage down the hole, where Garfield grabs it like a rescue rope, and also grabs Nermal, with Odie hauling them out to safety, a split second before Nermal’s cape would have dragged him into the machinery. For all their effort, the action figures fail to sell, as now all public attention has shifted to Slurp, with footage of his rescue taking the #1 web slot, knocking Nermal’s video out of the lead once and for all. Nermal decides to take his meow-singing act to the streets, and Garfield, also through with superheroing, joins him. The Looney Tunes Show was all about a tenuous marriage of media – the Looney Tunes gang, in a contemporary “Friends” style new millennium sitcom? While occasionally generating a winning situaion, there usually seemed to me a certain uneasiness at pressing the characters into “everyday” situations. (I’ve wondered if the group might have been better-fitted to a 1960’s sitcom. Imagine Bugs and Lola Bunny as Dick Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore. Daffy and his girlfriend as Morey Amsterdam and Rose Marie. And Elmer Fudd as Richard Deacon. For a son, we could even revive Clyde from “His Hare-Raising Tale”.) However strange the series may have been on the whole, the writers found a combination of genres that clicked for their series finale – Super Rabbit (5/23/13) (not to be confused with the original 1943 classic of the same name). Daffy’s looking for quick cash, so raiding through Bugs’ stuff for something to sell. Bugs attempts to guard an old knick-knack (a glass carrot) with a tall tale. “I’m not the bunny you think I am. My real name is Kal El. I was born long ago on the planet Krypton.” Daffy stops him cold. “Krypton? That’s Superman’s home planet. I fell for that once, but I’m way too smart to fall for it again.” Bugs qualifies his statement – “That’s ‘Crypton’ with a ‘C’” – and Daffy buys into the tale, hook, line, and sinker. Bugs spins a yarn of his exploits guarding the city of Metropolis – an adventure unique in its presentation, retaining much of the zaniness of the Looney Tunes stars while telling in the background of the action a pretty straightforward Superman story, complete with all the dark backgrounds and elaborate special effects that have become standard to the Warner DC Universe. It succeeds in coming off as the best of both worlds. Bugs has a comic exploit outwitting Marvin the Martian as Braniac (including a visually-inventive scene with Bugs taking pot-shots at Marvin with his own miniaturizing-enlarging ray, until every part of Marvin has eigher expanded gigantically or shrunken substantially. ‘I’m a regular Pablo Picasso”, says Bugs. He next tackles Elmer Fudd as Lex Luthor, eventually blasting him out of his supersuit and leaving him only a pair of striped shorts, and kicking the remains of Luthor’s armor into space. But Elmer informs Bugs that he has just succeeded in launching a radioactively unstable generator within the suit into deep space. The suit turns out to be on collision course with the Phantom Zone in which General Zod (Daffy Duck) and two minions (one his girlfriend, the other a robot) have been imprisoned. The blast frees the prisoners, and Zod and his companions plot the conquest of Earth. Amidst a ticker-tape parade, Bugs’s enjoyment of the side-perks of being a hero is interrupted by Zod’s trio. Battling is work for underlings, so Zod leaves his companions in charge to make short work of Super-Rabbit, who is forced to surrender beneath the foot of Zod’s robot. Zod sets up a palace, complete with huge golden idol of himself, and a chorus of slaves who attempt to compose for Zod a new national anthem (“My Country Tis of Thee” played in a minor key with new lyrics hailing Zod). Bugs meanwhile visits the Fortress of Solitude, where the spirit of his father states he had his defeat coming, as he had softened under the effects of showboating for the attentions of fame rather than fighting for the right. Bugs is advised to learn the adversaries’ weaknesses, and make them his own strengths. Making an entrance at Zod’s palace as reporter Clark Kent, Bugs deduces that Zod’s girlfriend is constantly being put down by him, while the robot is treated by Zod as a brainless infant. Revealing himself for battle, Bugs puts in the right words of flattery to each of the minions in the course of the fray, acquiring friends among Zod’s ranks. He finally confronts Zod polishing his statue, and when Zod orders his cohorts to attack, they step away, leaving Zod to battle alone. An epic confrontation on a Superman scale follows, with laser eye beams cutting buildings in half, vehicles thrown as weapons, and a flying chase through the tunnels of a subway. Bugs finally outmaneuvers Zod upon his emergence from the tunnels, grabbing Zod’s cape from behind and flinging him into his own golden statue. As Zod lies dazed at the foot of his own image, Bugs says, “Hey Doc, kneel before yourself”, then uses his laser vision to cut through the base of the statue. As the statue collapses, Zod, seeing it about to topple, screams “I’m going to hurt me!” Then crash! – and Bugs stands alone. Concluding his story to Daffy, Bugs claims he banished Zod and his minions to another Phantom Zone, then gave up his powers, realizing power corrupts. This is where Daffy suspends his belief in the story – feeling that no one would give up such power and super-goodies – and leaves to hock Bugs’s stuff anyway to finance his date for the evening. The scene changes to a movie theatre, playing “The Mark of Zorro”. Daffy and his date, dressed in what appears to be period attire, decide to save a ridiculously small number of seconds getting back to their car by going down a dark alley. Fans of Batman can see what’s coming a mile away – a Crime Alley accosting by a hoodlum. Who should arrive to save the day but – Bat-Rabbit. The hero hands pearls back to Daffy’s date, while Daffy offers no reward, since he didn’t specifically ask to be saved anyway. As the ducks leave, Bat-Rabbit reveals himself to us as Bugs, delivering in his best impersonation of Kevin Conroy his own signature line, “Ain’t I a stinker?” While I’m usually a fan of Rowan Atkinson in his appearances in person on big or small screen, I’m rather underwhelmed by his “Mr. Bean” animated series. Superhero Bean (2/22/16) is little more than a time-filler, with no actual powers whatsoever, merely chronicling Bean’s costumed attempts to trail a domestic burglar on the rooftops. Not a genuinely funny moment in the whole slow-paced episode. Super-Wacky (Cartoon Network, Wacky Races (revival),10/29/18) tries to pack a lot in, but forgets entirely that the premise of the show is to conduct races – instead devising a far-out plot on the personalities of the show’s characters alone. Peter Perfect rules the roost as the superhero guardian of a city, until one day he faces the challenge of – superhero oversaturation. Suddenly, all the current Wacky Racers (excepting Dastardly and Muttley) have transformed into superheroes too, and want in on a piece of the city’s action. In competition with Petet’s super chin-laser, Penelope Pitstop flies, turns everything she touches pink (as she admits, more of a curse than a power), and carries a radioactive lasso that makes anyone caught in it utter bad puns. I.Q. (junior counterpart to Professor Pat Pending) is half cyborg, with a robotic arm that often acts out of control with a mind of its own. The Gruesome Twosome have bat powers and invisibility. Meanwhile, Dick Dastardly is Wackopolis’s resident super villain, with a head swollen with psychic powers to control minds, and Muttley possesses a sonic snicker that can bring down walls. Dastardly hypnotizes the mayor to outlaw super-heroes, but the racers plot their strategy to bring her out of it. Part of the plan is to round up “the best team of heroes the legal department will let us use on this show”. The open auditions attract an overflow of old Hanna-Barbera stars, including Snagglepuss, Rosie the Robot, Space Ghost, Hong Kong Phooey, Winnie Witch, and Jabberjaw (this on top of a one-shot cameo for Quick Draw McGraw as El Kabong in the opening scene). All the applicants flunk out (Snagglepuss even exiting stage right), leaving the original racers to forge on alone. They head for the mayor’s office, and battle an army of flying Muttley robots (a harken back to Muttley’s rotor tail flying in “Dastardly and Mettley in Their Flying Machines”). Then, taking the battle to Dastardly’s lair (which Peter had a map to all the time), the group, except for Peter, succumb to Dastardly’s mind control, until Peter reminds them of the greater strength of their super-friendship. Muttley carries Dastardly to an escape as the racers break freee of his brainwashing – but Dastardly returns in the final frames of the episode at the helm of a giant town-stomping robo-Muttley. The racers launch into the fray again, and are stopped in a freeze frame for “The End” and a last insertion of a merchandising advertisement for their super products. Snowball, the rebellious rabbit who led a revolution against the human race in 2016‘s The Secret Life of Pets, undergoes a nearly complete personality transformation to keep him in the storyline in The Secret Life of Pets 2 (6/7/19). His new little girl owner is into superhero shows, and dresses him in a miniature mask, suit and cape as “Captain Snowball”. Snowball adapts to the new role, now determined to be the protector of the world rather than its overthrower, and incorporates his love of kung fu moves into the act. A short 2D segment provides the closest to superpowers he demonstrates, including socking a bad guy through the side of several buildings, and an ultrasonic roar. In real life, minus anything but his own speed and fight moves, he becomes involved in a rescue mission to save a rare white tiger who is being abused by a sinister circus owner determined to train him to perform death defying feats. Snowball must outwit a quartet of wolves who serve as guards to keep the tiger in and strangers out (including a humorous chase through various midway attractions), release the tiger from its cage, and attempt to find the tiger a hiding place in the apartments of the big city. Eventually, the whole cast of the franchise are drawn into the action, as the wolves and circus owner close in, and tranquilize the tiger, transporting him back to the circus train. Snowball uses an RC vehicle to catch up with the train, and engages in a battle of fisticuffs with the circus owner’s maniacal monkey, climaxed by shooting the monkey out of a cannon. Snowball and several of the other pets, together with the tiger, gang up on the villain in the engineer’s cab, and the tiger is eventually freed, and finds a new home amongst the flock of felines in the apartment of a neighboring cat lady. Just as Snowball is content and confident in his life as a superhero, his little girl changes his outfit to fit her latest craze – dressing him as a fairy godmother. Snowball surprisingly accepts the role with glee, confident that he can face any new challenge after surviving the last one. (A direct to video short, “Super Gidget”, released on the home editions of the feature, was unavailable for review – anyone with nformation on it is invited to comment below.) DarkBat (8/29/19), from New Looney Tunes, is an interesting character mashup. Hubie and Bertie (together with an unknown fat mouse who seems to be new to the series) run a fruit stand for mice with the spillage from a human fruit stand, trading for cheese as currency. They are set upon by an unusual posse of cats – Sylvester, Claude Cat, and Pete Puma, in what may be their first onscreen meeting. But to the rescue comes the unexpected arrival of a small winged caped crusader – DarkBat. The deep-voiced vigilante, runs the cats a brief merry chase, landing alternately on their “heads, shoulders, knees and toes” in mimic of a children’s game-song to draw stick blows from the other cats upon whoever he lands on, then playing a game of “whack-a-mole” among the produce with Pete, armed with what DarkBat guarantees is a mallet that will only bash bats, but manages to hit only the other cats instead. Darkbat finally tries the mallet himself, smashing Pete on the head, then declaring, “You’re right. Defective.” With some banana peels, DarkBat caises the three cats to slip into a packing crate, which DearkBat nails shut and labels for delivery to Nome, Alaska. Hubie and Bertie thank DarkBat, but inquire as to his true identity. DarkBat is quite eager to share, pulling off the cowl to reveal the most unlikely choice for a superhero among the classic warner toons – Sniffles the Mouse! In his “can’t sop talking” mode, Sniffles babbles on how isn’t it something, that he can put on this costume, and it lets him do all sorts of crazy things. “Pretty cool, huh?” he asks. “It was until you took the mask off”, aays the fat mouse. But Sniffles flies off into the night (interesting that he would choose to become a bat, when a real bat was the cause of his change to talkative personality in The Brave Little Bat in 1941), while the mice comment that there goes another superhero who’s just a little batty. Writers will again be writers, trying to milk a good one-shot idea for extra episodes. Bonjour, DarkBat (8/29/19) pits Sniffles’ super-alias against Blacque Jacque Shellacque. Unfortunately, with the “cat out of the bag”, so to speak, as to DarkBat’s true identity, the element of surprise for an ending is gone, so the episode has to rely entirely on its gag content to justify itself. Actually, it manages to not fare badly on such count, dealing with a war inside Shelacque’s cheese shop when he wrecks rivals Hubie and Bertie’s curbside cheese wagon. A duel sequence uses everything in the shop as weaponry, from French breads to kitchen utensils down to tasting toothpicks. And the dialogue packs in every bad cheese pun the 4 1/2 minutes can handle – including using a high-pressure Brie dispenser to turn Shellacque into “de-brie”, and DarkBat telling Hubie and Bertie that only the Gouda guys win. Not too shabby an effort. Still funny, but becoming formulaic, is a final installment. Smoothie Operator (1/30/20). Same premise as previous episode, different villain. Yosemite Sam shuts down the mice’s smoothie stand to stop competition with his own. More bad puns on fruits and vegetables. Battles with alternating hot and cold ingredients, and a final chase with a jet-propelled motorcycle. A lot of action, but not as original. I’m sure there’s a few I’ve missed along the way. If anyone has any favorites that didn’t receive print space here, your input below is as always appreciated. The holidays (such as they are) are nearly upon us, and next week, it’s time for celebration – as the song goes, “if only in our dreams”. The post Reign of the Supertoons (Part 11) appeared first on . #Garfield #PinkPanther #AnimationTrails #DaffyDuck

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secret-captain-swan-blog · 7 years ago

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Castle on the Hill

English Literature PhD student Emma Swan just needs money to pay for her last semester of grad school tuition. Killian Jones has always dreamed of opening a bookshop but has never been able to afford it. So when the small principality of Misthaven is looking for their lost princess, the pair decide that this might just be the perfect money making scheme.

A Multi-chapter Modern Day + Lost Princess (think Rapunzel/Anastasia-esque) + Book Lovers in a Coffee Shop AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 40791/ ?

Prologue (Part 1 + 2) // Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7

Read on: Ao3

Emma wonders how thin the floor below her is. She also wonders if the person who lives below her can tell that she’s been pacing for the last hour. It’s always been her nervous vice- when starting a new family, before English exams, waiting for grad school acceptance letters- she’s always taken to walking in circles. And despite what Killian told her the day before, despite the millions of assurances she’s told herself- it’s not stopping her from walking in circles around her apartment’s floor.

When her phone rings, she flinches before pulling it out of her bag. The phone was an early investment, a Misthaven Sim card so that she’d be able to get calls while here. Now, she extracts her phone from her purse on the counter.

She’d spent hours before worrying over what to wear. What does one wear to meet a queen? She finally settled on a navy knee-length skirt that tied at the waist, a striped blue and white button up, and fake pearl earrings. A little make up, a professional pony tail, and a suitable brown leather tote finished her look.

“Hello?” She says into the phone.

She still hasn’t mastered area codes, but she can tell from the country code that it’s a Misthaven number.

“Hallo? Dis eez Jacques, of zee Queen’s securitay,” He says, his Misthaven accent thick and hard to understand, “Zye am waiting outside, when you please.”

“Oh right,” Emma mutters, “Um, merci? I’ll be there in a moment.”

She grabs her purse, gives her pony tail a final tug, and then heads down the stairs.

Waiting for her outside the apartment is a black car with the royal seal on it. Emma’s beginning to get familiar with it now having seen it on the Royal Box at the opera, but also on many other public places in Misthaven.

The man exits and opens the door for her. She steps in, a little bewildered by the treatment. Inside, there are bottles of sparkling water inside the cup holders, an assortment of fresh fruit between the two seats. Emma tries not to feel completely out of place.

“Eet well be a twenty-minute drive to zee house of zee Queen,” The driver says, as he slips into the front seat, “Zif you need anyting, please just let me know, Madame.”

“Merci,” Emma manages again.

She watches from the window as the car drives through the familiar streets of her neighborhood, before giving way to more unfamiliar areas. They drive past the outskirts of Misthaven City, where there are still a few rundown buildings left to be restored. The sight of them gives Emma the chills, remembering the pawn shop of her first week.

Still farther they drive and the city gives way to the countryside. Misthaven is a very small country, but it does have a sizable amount of countryside considering how small it is. There are friendly green farms, cheerful windmills, and old grey cottages flicking past her window.

Slowly they begin to drive up the mountain, there are more trees here, along with winding mountain roads. Occasionally she gets a peak of the town from mountain side, and each time it is farther and farther below her. Emma can imagine why a Queen like Mary Margaret would want to live here- far from city center and the troubles and stress that come with it.

Finally, the car stops in front of the small chateau. It’s elegant, light grey stone and archways. Emma can see some stained-glass windows farther up. Did Chagall do these ones too? There are gardens going off in all directions- a neat rose garden, organized in Tudor patterns, then beyond that an English-style garden with follies and wild flowers.

“Emma!” Queen Mary Margaret’s voice calls.

Emma had been so engrossed in taking in the estate, that she didn’t notice the Queen’s arrival. The woman is waving brightly, walking down the main stairwell to greet her.

“Your majesty,” Emma says, dropping a curtsey.

“Oh my dear,” she says, “Don’t feel the need to engage in such dramatics. You are at my home. It’s much more casual here.”

“Oh, right, okay,” Emma says, trying to figure out what ‘casual’ means to a queen, “Well, it’s great to see you again.”

“You as well, my dear,” the Queen replies, taking Emma’s hand to give it a friendly squeeze. “Come on in. Welcome to my house.”

The inside is just as seriously insane as the outside. There are ancient tapestries lining the entrance hall, fine dark wood, and golden embellishments. Emma feels like she’s entered some sort of historical display house, not a place that a real person actually lives in.

“This is a really lovely place,” Emma says politely.

“Oh,” the Queen replies, “It’s just our old summer place really. It’s not as ornate as the main castle. I wanted a simpler life when I returned here.”

Simpler life? Emma not certain this exactly what she’d describe as simple.

“Do you have a lot of these?” Emma asks, “Other houses?”

The Queen sashays her way down a corridor and Emma follows.

“Yes, of course,” She says, “There is family home by the seaside, close to the Belgian border. And then in south there is a small, little estate that has been in the royal family for years. It was supposed to go to Emma.”

The Queen pauses and gives a little glance back before adding, in a more melancholic tone. “My daughter. Princess Emma.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma replies softly.

There is a moment of silence that falls between them, as Emma looks down awkwardly, picking at her nails.

“She’s out there,” The Queen replies, “I feel it inside me. One day she’ll return to the kingdom and she’ll have her house in the southern valley.”

It’s a lovely thought. But Emma can only think of Killian’s thoughts the day before. She’s probably dead. If not, she could be anyone.

“I know it sounds silly,” the Queen says, “but I’m very bad at giving up hope.”

“That’s admirable, your majesty,” Emma tells her.

The Queen smiles softly, ruefully, before leading Emma towards a pair of French doors.

“Let me show my favorite room in the house,” She says, her voice is brighter now.

She leads Emma into a small green room with gold stripes. The room is circular with long windows that open out onto the woods nearby. Upon further exception, realizes that the walls aren’t just green and gold. The walls are a forest.

The gold stripes work as illustrations of trees, diving the walls into a multitude of foliage. As Emma gets closer, she sees more- knots in trees, tiny fairies and nymphs peaking out of trees, birds and butterflies, mushrooms and moss- all of it detailed into the walls.

Her eyes turn to the ceiling, it’s decorated so that one half shows the night sky and the other the day. Puffy white clouds and sunshine on one side and glittering constellations on the other.

“I see why it’s your favorite,” Emma remarks.

“I call it my Enchanted Forest Room,” the monarch tells her.

“It’s dazzling,” Emma murmurs.

The Queen beams and leads Emma over to a table. The table has already been set for tea with fine china cups with delicate floral designs. Seconds after they sit down, a servant (holy crap a freaking servant) brings over cart with a pot of hot tea and three-tiered tray of treats and sandwiches. The whole thing is so beautiful that Emma’s fingers twitch as she tries not to Instagram the scene. Seriously, this place would get so many likes.

“Is tea alright for you?” The Queen asks, “Or would you prefer coffee or hot chocolate?”

Emma would always prefer coffee and she’s pretty sure that Princess Emma would ask for a hot chocolate, but the truth is Emma’s nervous and doesn’t want to disturb the woman.

“Tea is perfect,” She replies.

The queen nods at Emma and she knows that it’s her cue to pour the tea. Emma’s listened to enough of Belle’s talk on regency books to know that it is a sign of respect to the elder woman to have the younger pour the tea. But that doesn’t actually mean that Emma knows how to pour the tea. Especially when the tea pot is hot and heavy (and like, obviously, not in the good way).

She tentatively reaches for the pot, not sure where to put her hands. Does she keep her hand on the lid while she pours? Will her wrist actually hold the weight of the pot? Emma puts the handle in one hand and the spout, but she’s instantly burned.

“Fuck,” she hisses, pulling back her hand.

The queen looks up at her, eyes wide.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry your majesty!” Emma says, “I didn’t mean to use foul language in front of-“

“Oh please,” she laughs, “I may be a queen, but I’m still human! Let me show you.”

The queen takes the pot gingerly in her hand, one hand on the handle and the other on the lid.

Dang it. It was the lid!

The queen pours Emma’s cup and then her own. She takes a bit of milk and sugar, before adding a small lemon tart to her plate. She nods at Emma to do the same. In turn, Emma swirls in a splash of milk and puts a small pink macaron onto her plate. She’s pretty sure that there are sparkles somehow baked into the cookie.

“So, Emma,” the Queen asks, “How are you liking Misthaven so far?”

“Very nicely,” Emma replies, “The university is very supportive. It’s a beautiful place to spend a semester.”

“It is, isn’t it?” the queen smiles, taking a sip of tea, “The library is just breathtaking. When I was getting my degree, I used to try to sneak in there to study. I’d dress like a commoner- with a baseball cap and everything. Normally my security would find me and drag me out, you know, off to study in the royal library- but the few minutes I’d get in there would be amazing.”

Emma smiles, taking a nervous sip of tea. She’s drawn in by a specific detail.

“You have your own royal library?”

The queen blushes and smiles, “I do, a few actually. There is one in the main castle, but mostly it’s just filled with legal books now that the parliament has relocated there. A lot of government scholars study there. I’ve moved most of the fiction to my private library here. And the overflow to the Princess’s castle in the valley.”

“Wow,” Emma murmurs, “I can’t imagine having so many books to myself.”

“I know that being queen comes with immense privilege, trials too, but definitely privilege. I think that all the books are the biggest part of that, and the free opera tickets,” She laughs.

“I remember the first time I got a library card,” Emma says, a little wistful between munches of macaron, “I felt like I won the lottery. All those books, as many as I wanted to read, all for free. I’d never felt so lucky.”

The queen smiles, “Well, Emma, since we are friends, you are welcome to use my library whenever you wish.”

The Queen of fricken Misthaven just offered her library to her?

Emma gapes a little bit, “Thank you. I’d really love that.”

The Queen blushes again and takes a sip of her tea.

“So what do you like read?” Emma asks.

“All sorts of things,” The Queen replies, “Classics, of course, Austen, Eliot.”

Dang it, she should’ve meet Belle instead, Emma thinks.

“But I also have a soft place for fairy tales,” She adds.

Emma looks up from her tea, a smile playing on her lips.

“Me too,” Emma blurts.

“Do you?”

Queen Mary Margaret’s eyes look as bright as Emma’s own.

“The Red Fairy Book saved my life,” Emma tells her, “Seriously, those books were my first favorites.”

The queen looks like she might cry, “I had a copy of those that I meant to give my daughter. The shoe books too- you know Ballet Shoes, Dancing Shoes, Theater Shoes- those ones. And all the Little House on the Prairie. And Anne of Green Gables. And Little Women. The Secret Garden. And of course, The Little Princess. I wanted her to read all the little girl classics.”

Now Emma feels like crying too. She has never thought that she’s the kind of person who could feel bad for a queen, yet she feels overwhelmingly sad for this woman who never got to watch her daughter grow up. A daughter which Emma is trying to impersonate, kinda. Emma doesn’t know how to react so she reaches for another macaron and shoves it in her mouth.

Then she mumbles, “I’m sorry you didn’t get to read them with her.”

“Thanks Emma,” she says, “What other things do you read?”

“Well, I like kind of post-modernism and contemporary things. You know? The weird, techno-infused, inventive things,” Emma says, “Creative, unique stuff.”

She takes another sip of tea before she keeps going.

“I’m also into world literatures. I like the concept of books as nations. I’m really interested in how we tell stories about different places and cultures, and how those stories change based on who is writing them,” Emma explains.

“Wow,” The queen says, “Your interests seem to be all over the place, yet you seem to be very articulate about what you like.”

Emma smiles, pleased.

“My favorite,” she continues, “is Blanche Neige. Have you heard of her? I think you’d like her since you like fairy tales.”

There is a small pause as the queen grimaces, searching for what to say. Her voice is grave when she responds.

“Actually, sorry, not to be rude, Emma, but I don’t really care for Blanche Neige.”

Emma feels like she’s been slapped in the face.

WHAT DOES SHE MEAN SHE DOESN’T LIKE BLANCHE NEIGE?

Emma is immediately grateful that she’ll have Killian to call tonight to rant to about this whole situation.

The queen continues, “It’s just that I don’t think she has the right to speak about Misthaven. This tiny country is my life, my whole life, and she uses it as a plot device.”

“That’s not fair,” Emma snaps, “She uses it to encourage revolution. She uses it to stand up for Misthaven during a time of oppression.”

“Does she?” The queen asks, “Or does she take advantage of the oppression to capitalize on a story?”

Emma gapes. She can’t believe that the queen doesn’t like Blanche Neige.

“Do you even know if she lived in Misthaven at the time?” The queen demands, “There is no proof that she cared about Misthaven. She was just someone making money and getting sympathy by using exploited people.”

Emma gulps. The woman is taking down the most important person to Emma and it makes her feel borderline sick. Blanche Neige is Emma’s life. The idea that Blanche Neige is anything but a hero seems blasphemous to her.

“Does that mean that no one can write about exploited people? Tons of people write everyday about the Holocaust, about genocide, refuges, war, oppression of all forms.”

The queen frowns, “I’m sorry if it sounds harsh. This is the real world, my real world, not an academic classroom. My husband died for Misthaven. My daughter died for Misthaven. My friends, my guards, my subjects- they all died for Misthaven. If Blanche Neige thinks it’s as easy as climbing a tower to find a savior, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Emma swallows and exhales before saying, “I’m sorry for bringing her up, your majesty. I truly didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay Emma,” She says softly, her tension defused after her outburst. “Your heart is the right place. I won’t dislike you for liking her writing, but just please respect my request to never mention her again in my house.”

Emma nods.

“Would you like a tour now?” The queen asks, rising.

Emma stands immediately. That seems like another Jane Austen-y thing to follow. Don’t sit when the queen is standing? Not that there are queens or kings in Jane Austen, but still it seems like a proper thing.

“Sure,” Emma says.

“Let’s start with the library,” The queen says, “I wasn’t lying before, you really are free to use it whenever.”

She leads Emma down several hallways, before she approaches a pair of doors. She gives Emma conspiratorial grin, before throwing them open.

It’s an immaculate library. Emma’s never seen anything like it.

While the Misthaven University library is all dark wood, this room is bright with long windows. It’s all marble floors, gold leaf, and ornate blue reading chairs. Emma wants to explore it all immediately. Just from where she’s standing, she can see several large fairy tale anthologies. She wants to devour them immediately.

Emma can only begin to forgive Queen Mary Margaret for the Blanche-Neige-hating-thing because she has an impossibly perfect library.

“Can I really use this anytime I like?” Emma gasps.

“Of course, my dear, you are very welcome here,” The queen tells her.

“Do you mind if I look around?” Emma asks.

“Take your time,” The queen smiles. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a ring when you’re done and I’ll finish the tour.”

“Thanks,” Emma mumbles, as the queen backs out of the room. Emma gazes around at the gorgeous library, grinning, before pulling a stack off the shelf and curling up in a chair.

Killian is just finishing his shift when Emma calls.

“Ah, there you are, love,” He says, flopping onto his bed, the exhaustion of the long shift leaving him.

“Hey Killian,” She replies.

He listens to her voice. There is something tired and hesitant about it.

He’s been thinking about her all day. Her meeting with queen. He’s proud of her for even agreeing to the thing, despite her walls and baggage. He knows how it is to open one’s self up to vulnerability after being hurt by someone. In essence, it’s what he’s doing with Emma now.

“How’d it go, Swan?” He asks.

She lets out a moan, “Good I guess, but also horrible.”

“Horrible,” He repeats. “How so?”

Emma lets out another sigh.

“Here, actually, stay where you are. I’ll be right over,” He replies, hanging up.

He stops at Mamie’s on the way, grabbing two drinks, before heading towards the tram. It’s early evening and chilly. Killian’s wearing a lumpy knitted navy jumper (a gift from Ruby’s mamie last Christmas) and a pair of jeans, but it’s almost not enough. Early September has brought with it a kiss of fall.

It’s hard to jump the turnstiles with two warm beverages, but Killian Jones isn’t an ordinary rapscallion and he manages it surprising grace (or so he tells himself).

He arrives at Emma’s apartment twenty minutes after her call. He rings her apartment and she buzzes him up. She waiting at the door when he arrives.

She’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, the European jogger style ones that stay close her legs. She also has a bright pink sports bra and a thin tank top over that. Her blond hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders. The whole look is obvious casual, so it’s alarming how incredibly sexy she is. Damn it Emma Swan.

Yet all the same, he can see faint smears of black on her face. Smeared mascara. She’s been crying.

“Emma,” He says softly, “What’s wrong?”

She lets him. Her grey blanket is crumpled on the couch. Her stack of Blanche Neige books are scattered across the sofa and coffee table. He wonders what she was doing before he arrived.

“Ugh,” She groans, “it’s all so stupid.”

“What’s stupid?”

He takes a seat on a stool at her counter. She slides in beside him.

“The reason I’m upset,” She replies, folding her arms on the counter and pressing her head into them.

“There’s no stupid reason to be upset,” He laughs, “Out with it, Swan.”

She makes a grunt from where she’s buried her head.

“I’ve brought Mamie’s cocoa, if that will tempt you to tell me,” He tells her.

She reluctantly raises her head, rolling her eyes as she takes the mug.

After a sip she says, “Is there cinnamon on this?”

They both let loose into laughter.

After it calms, she tells him.

“Queen Mary Margaret doesn’t like Blanche Neige.”

Killian laughs again.

“Swan, this is what you are so upset about? Her majesty doesn’t share your same taste in literature?”

Emma takes another sip of cocoa.

“No, it’s not just that. She doesn’t just dislike Blanche Neige, she abhors her. Or moreover, she seems to think that there is something morally abhorant about liking Blanche Neige.”

Killian is beginning to put it together. Blanche Neige is Emma’s life. The queen’s condemnation of the author feels like a condemnation of Emma herself.

“She thinks that Blanche Neige had no right to write about Misthaven and their troubles. She doesn’t think that she was encouraging revolution, so much as profiting off of it,” Emma continues to explain.

“I’m sorry Swan,” Killian says.

She nods at the book messy, “I’ve been spending the rest of the afternoon rereading her books, trying to prove to myself that Blanche Neige is a good person.”

“Of course, dear old Blanche is good,” Killian laughs, “She saved our lives.”

Emma nods, “I guess. I mean this is a huge issue in literature today. Who gets to tell what stories? Can you tell a story about a place you’ve been? Can you tell a story about a struggle you’ve never been through? Are you bringing attention to a place or people in need? Or is it merely profiting off their tragedy?”

She sips her hot chocolate.

“I always thought that the argument was irrelevant. Who cares who tells the story? Literature isn’t about the author or the author’s intentions. The novels we read need to analyzed on their own,” she continues.

Emma removes the lid of the cocoa, using a spoon left on her counter to eat a bit of cinnamon flavored whipped cream.

“But it’s different now that I’ve met someone whose life has been so affected by the tragedy. Queen Mary Margaret lost everything. Does someone have a right to capitalize on that pain? I don’t know. The whole thing makes me feel sick.”

“Oh Emma,” He says.

He stands and moves behind her. He sweeps her hair from her back and over one shoulder in a single movement. Emma might be afraid of kisses and not ready for anything beyond friendship, but he’s realized that he can help her make progress in small, tender gestures. Holding hands, hugs, shoulder rubs- they are all enough to start to break down Emma’s walls. She deserves to be touched by someone who cares about her.

“Is it okay I rub your shoulders?” He asks.

“Sure,” she says, resting her chin on the counter.

He begins to soothe soft circles into her shoulders. Her skin is smooth underneath his thumbs. Beneath the skin, he can feel knots in her muscles. She holding a lot of tension and stress in.

“Did you tell her that Blanche Neige is your dissertation?” He asks.

“No,” Emma mutters, “I don’t know how she’d react if she found out. This whole thing would probably come to a halt.”

“Is it really that bad?” Killian asks.

“She told me never to mention Blanch Neige in her house again,” Emma sighs.

“Yikes,” Killian remarks.

“I know,” Emma laments, “And she invited me to use her library. She wants me to keep coming back and having tea with her to talk about books. It’s going to come up at someone point.”

“So ride it out till it does,” Killian says, “Or make up a fib if she asks. Or tell her you can’t answer.”

“That’s true,” Emma agrees, “It’s just that she’s so much of my life. It’s hard not to share it with her.”

“I know,” Killian says. “What you need, love, is something to take your mind off of this predicament.”

Emma turns to him and he nods over to the couch. Her eyes widen a bit, making an assumption.

“Not that,” He says, chuckling.

He walks over to where her books are scattered and begins to stack them neatly, sliding them onto her shelf.

“I think you need a break from Blanche Neige,” He says, “You can read her tomorrow when you’ve had time to clear your mind.”

Emma walks over to her couch, her hot chocolate in hand, and pulls the grey blanket around her. Killian perches on the corner of the sofa.

“What do you say to another book?” He asks.

“What do you have in mind?” She replies.

“Have you read The Princess Bride?” He asks.

“I remember being a group home where it was one of the few VHS tapes we had,” Emma muses. “I think I watched it a million times that year. But, uh, no. I never read the book.”

Killian grins, “Well, good. You’re in for a treat.”

He slides of the arm of the couch to settle beside Emma. Her legs are tucked under her and she leans in a little to listen. Killian can smell a light floral scent waft off of her, probably her shampoo.

He pulls up the novel on his phone and settles into the story. He’s always liked reading out loud and Emma is good listener. Stories are part of her DNA and so she reacts spectacularly, her eyes wide with wonder at the most surprising turns, then glazed with tears when she thinks the lovers had lost each other for good. Killian tries not to smirk to see such rawness on Emma’s face. While she seems self-assured, walled-in, she has a secret soft spot- at least for characters in books.

In a few hours, Killian has made his way through half of the book. Somehow, between Buttercup and Wesley losing and finding each other again, Emma’s legs turned up over his. By the time they make it out of the forest, Emma’s head has drifted to his shoulder. Killian tries not to all out grin as Emma’s comfortability around him.

Okay, so they might not be dating for now. Killian hates it, but he can accept it. He can accept it if it means tender hugs like they shared yesterday. He can accept it if it means her falling asleep on his shoulder, her lovely legs draped over his. He can accept it if it means her late-night calls, showing up at her apartment to find her in her pajamas. He can accept it if it means this quiet, unspoken intimacy. Sure, they aren’t a couple, but they are close. It’s only been a few weeks of friendship and they are this close. He can live with that.

Her eyes begin to flutter shut, so he nudges her.

“Emma, love, you’re falling asleep,” He says softly, “I should go. We can finish the story when you are more awake.”

She stirs a bit, humming.

“I should go,” He says. He doesn’t want to. He wants to more time with her.

She hums again, mumbling something that sounds like, “Keep reading.”

“I don’t want you to fall asleep and miss part of the story,” He tells her.

“I guess that’s fair,” Emma says, detangling herself from him. She stretches and gets up to let him out.

“Are you a little less perturbed?” He asks her, as he makes his way to the door.

“I guess,” she says, her voice still sleep-laced.

She runs a hand through her hair, making her waves dance. “I just wish I knew who she is.”

“Who?” Killian asks, trying to follow her sleepy thoughts.

“Blanche Neige,” Emma says, “If I knew who she was, I could just ask her why she wrote it. I could figure out if she was here or not. I could figure out if she is as bad as Queen Mary Margaret thinks she is.”

“If anyone can figure it out,” Killian says, “It’s you. I’m pretty sure it’s you.”

Emma rolls her eyes lazily. “Thanks Killian.”

“Good night, Emma.”

Tagging some pals: @sambethe @lenfaz @pocket-anon @the-corsair-and-her-quill@kmomof4 @kiwistreetswan @princesseslikepirates @timeless-love-story @shady-swan-jones @katie-dub@1handedpiratewithadrinkingprob @midnightswans

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #cs mc #cs fic #cs mafia #cs crew

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