#dunno who the woman commentating with him is but she sounds knowledgable but a little unrefined (?)

[viktoriakomova]

im a broke bitch with no peacock i was just watching on allgymnastics.tv with a vpn and it sounds like i had a much more pleasant experience than you folx

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: swearing 

word count: 1.8k

g/n: decided on a bit of a filler for this one as a sort of prelude to future scenes 👀👀 ((likewise manifesting my plan to post another chapter this week))

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

Jungkook locks his apartment door behind him, jiggling the doorknob afterwards for ‘double security’ as one would usually call it. He grabs his backpack from the floor and places one of the straps on his shoulders and heads on his way. As he passes by two of his neighbors who live in the same floor, he nods at them, adding a brief hum in greeting. 

“Hey man!” One of the men, Jikwang (as what Jungkook believes this man’s name was), calls out just before Jungkook reaches the elevator. “There was this hot girl asking about you last night.” 

Jungkook raises a brow. He hadn’t really met anyone recently, besides that one cute law student who was looking for a new tenant - and eventually turned out to be your neighbor this whole time. She was cute and all, but she didn’t seem like the type that was ‘hot’ to these types of people. 

Jungkook racks his brain for anything, trying to remember the very few number of his one night stands.Surely,none of them would have gotten pregnant with protection on….surely? On top of that, he hadn’t really disclosed his address to a lot of people too, so there was no way someone would be looking for him, all the more a “hot” woman,as these two would claim. 

“Did she say what her name was?” 

The one beside Jikwang shakes his head, adjusting his beanie. He’d seen this dude a couple of times hanging around, but he never actually got his name.  “Nah bro, I don’t think you’re the commitment type of dude…” he comments, dark eyes looking at Jungkook from his head down to his toe. Who was this guy anyways and who was he to judge whether Jungkook was the type to enter a committed relationship or not? 

“She just...looked rich, rich. She had a driver... who helped her come down from a nice Benz.” 

Jungkook feels his heart drop to the ground. No way in hell. 

“I think her name was Hee something...Junghwa? I dunno man, I’m not good with names. But it sounds similar to that…” 

“Was it Junghee?” 

“Yeah I think that’s it…” bonnet-dude replies, tapping a finger against his chin as he approaches Jungkook. “You think maybe you can set me up? With you know…” 

Jikwang knocks the back of bonnet-man’s head. “I got dibs first, shithead. “If she’s not already yours though,” he adds, delivering a wink aimed at Jungkook. “Her friends will do.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at the duo. “No. She’s my sister. And she doesn’t have any friends.” A chill courses through his spine as he replies, wondering how she managed to find out where he lived, and why would she even reach out? Why now, when she had so many years to do so? 

Beanie guy simply laughs at him - if it was even considered laughing, when he was practically splitting his sides with laughter - like the thought of having a sister was hilarious to him. “You’re real funny, man. There is no...way...in hell… that that lady was your sister.” 

Ah yes, this man is a health vice personified. Jungkook notes the discoloration of his teeth, the god-awful odor coming from his mouth, and they both reek of alcohol and drugs combined. From a safe distance, Jungkook watches their amusement over the subject that is his sister, thinking about why he even indulged these two in the first place. For all he knows, they might have been shitting on him the whole time. 

“Sorry man. I mean...she’s rich and hot… and you?” Jikwang shrugs his shoulders. 

‘And he?’ What about him? 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? 

Jungkook clicks his tongue silently, clearly taking full offense with Jikwang’s statement. Did they just imply he didn’t look rich and hot too? Well, compared to them though, they’ll obviously have way longer to go. 

Jungkook blinks before equally returning their level of disbelief. “For real, bro?” These men diss him, won’t believe he has a sister whose aura dwarfs his by a million percent, and now they want him to set up a date with her? He shakes his head. Only crooks like these would say insane shit like this. 

If only this wasn’t the cheapest and most convenient apartment he could find to accommodate his daily hustle, Jungkook would have moved out of this crap excuse of an apartment building a long time ago. 

“Keep dreaming man.” 

“Hey, this is what I get for selling you my bike for a good price?” Jikwang eyes Jungkook, taunting him. 

“I owe you nothing. I paid for it ages ago.” Jungkook turns on his heel, leaving the two in the crusty ass corridor of their apartment building. He needs to get a new place. Quickly. 

With a sigh, he pulls on his down jacket, keeping himself warm as he walks to the garage. 

‘King Auto’ 

There’s a certain warmth that envelops Jungkook whenever he sees the garage, a place he’d rather call home than his terrible apartment building. It sits right at the corner of two busy streets, just six blocks away from his apartment. 

Funnily enough, it wasn’t him who first found out about the garage but the other way around. Well, technically, the owner did. Lee Dongmin, owner and manager of ‘King Auto’ repairs and restores almost all types of cars and bikes alike, occasionally servicing high-end cars on lucky days. 

Dongmin would usually see Jungkook pass by the garage in the morning on his way to the university or his part-time job.Well, being located at a busy street in the city of Seoul, there would normally be a lot of passersby but Dongmin knew these people either worked or lived around the area; Jungkook, however, always lingered when he walks past the garage. 

It had come to Dongmin’s knowledge a few months later that Jungkook purposefully used a longer route on his way, walking two extra blocks just so that he could pass by the garage. Dongmin hadn’t initially done anything about it, as he thought Jungkook simply took interest in cars - especially when the shop had its fair share of servicing cars from the western market. 

There was this particular day though one summer, that their paths would finally cross. Jungkook’s bike, the same bike he bought from sketchy Jikwang, broke down. Coincidentally just in front of King Auto too. Funnily enough, no one in the garage was familiar with fixing up bikes, but Jungkook simply asked if he could borrow a few tools and he’d fix his bike himself. 

Ultimately, Jungkook became part of the King Auto family. He’d spend his spare time in the garage when he’s not busy with his part-time jobs and on occasion, Jungkook gets to keep a tiny commission whenever he helps out with the repairs. 

Jungkook goes through the front door greeting the new receptionist, Clark, a good morning before heading straight to the garage. Jungkook spots a familiar shade of blue peeking through the scissor lifts, just by the end row. He practically dashes to the car in excitement, too thrilled to greet his favorite car he had worked on previously. 

“My baby!” The boy exclaims as he rests his chin on the Porsche Panamera’s roof. “Kook! Get your hands off that! I just had it cleaned!” gruffs Mansik from the other side of the car, flinging his towel at Jungkook who mumbles a sorry but continues to cradle the car, a little more gently this time. 

“If you continue doing that, you know a towel isn’t the only thing Mansik is going to throw at you.” Lee Dongmin’s voice is low, careful that the man he’s referring to won’t hear his words. “I’m glad he hasn’t resorted to tools yet...just a couple of smelly socks and a t-shirt that smells like it hasn’t been washed for months... “ 

“Fuckers.” True to Jungkook’s foreboding, Mansik does throw a sock ball from out of nowhere, one which barely misses Jungkook’s face. Dongmin simply shakes his head at his workers, who he has considered family at this point, Jungkook included. “I’m just glad none of that fell into my first coffee of the day.” Dongmin observes, drawing himself father from the Porsche and any flying objects later on. 

“By the way, the owner is actually here to pick up the car. I may or may not have mentioned your infatuation with it.” 

Jungkook almost instantly jumps to his feet, searching for the owner inside the garage, but disappointingly ending up with all the familiar faces at the garage. “Chill, kid. He just grabbed some coffee down the street,” Dongmin mentions as he takes a sip of his own. “Ah, speaking of the devil,” the latter states, nodding his head towards someone behind Jungkook. 

“Seokjin-sunbaenim?” 

“Oh hey! Wasn’t expecting to see you here...Jungkook, right?” 

“Yes sir!” Jungkook’s pupils shake, animatedly looking back and forth between the garage owner and his upper-level resident. “So...you’re the one who owns this Porsche?” Seokjin raises his cup, adding a small nod in Jungkook’s direction. He internalizes his excitement, before confessing his love for Seokjin’s Panamera. 

“And so, Dongmin here mentioned. Also said you were the one who fixed her up. Thanks man!” 

Dongmin looks at the two of them, eyebrows creased in the middle. “You two know each other?” 

“Seokjin-sunbaenim is a senior of mine at Woocheon.” Seemingly shellshocked at the new piece of information, Dongmin turns to Seokjin, “You’re a doctor?” The owner of the Porsche rolls his eyes fondly, “Yes, Dongmin. We can have lives outside the hospital too, you know.” 

“Anyways, ‘Mera’s ready to go yeah?” 

“Of course. Kook fixed it up just fine.” 

“Alright. Got a shift today man? Need a ride to the hospital?” 

Jungkook is tempted to give in, but merely fixing Seokjin’s car is enough honor for him and he can’t take advantage of his generosity. “No thank you, sunbae. I’ve already got a ride to work today.” Jungkook points to his bike on the other side of the garage. 

Seokjin tuts his disbelief. “You’re kidding me right? In this weather?” The older doctor points outside, then rubs his palm against his down coat. “No way in hell, kid. Get in the car.” 

“Really?” Jungkook mumbles, dimple on display as his lips form a thin line. Seokjin makes a hum of approval as he takes off his jacket while Jungkook dashes back to where he’d left his backpack. “He’s a good kid, Jungkook. Can be a bit of a delinquent sometimes, but he’s good. Take care of him, yeah?” 

“Huh,” Seokjin smirks, “this handsome face got nothing he can’t handle.” Dongmin rolls his eyes this time, “Seriously doubt we’re the same age honestly.” 

Jungkook returns to where the Porsche is parked, and Seokjin gets a spur-of-the-moment idea. The surgical resident throws his keys to Jungkook before settling inside the passenger seat. Jungkook, surprised as ever, simply stands there in surprise. “Well?” Seokjin asks, ducking towards the dashboard so he could take a look at Jungkook, “We’re gonna be late!” 

© joontier 2021

[buckyownsmylife]

v e l o c i t y - chapter viii

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: I think there’ll be just one more chapter to this story, but I don’t know if it’s coming next week!

John’s P.O.V.

“Omega.” The sound of her title made her stop in her tracks, but she still didn’t turn around to face me. It’d been like this for the last month or so. A game of hide and seek I had never agreed to play.

Although I was pretty sure if I asked her about it, she’d say I was the one who made up the rules in the first place.

“What do you want, John?” Hearing her address me directly after so many days of tense silence was inebriating, but her tone wasn’t what I wanted. I knew I deserved it though, and that is why I was subjecting myself to this.

“I want to talk.”

“That’s precious coming from you. Take such pride in being the silent, angry type. Or should I say the asshole type?” I scoffed, even though I deserved that. I deserved it all, I knew it. 

But what I’d come to realize in these last few weeks that I had to endure practically without her was that I was nothing but a selfish bastard when it came to the woman before me.

“Would you just hear me out?” I asked, pulling the basket of dirty laundry she was holding and letting it fall on the floor before forcing her to turn around and look me in the eyes. She immediately crossed her arms in front of her, showing in every way she could that she was not in the mood to have any sort of conversation with me.

“Why should I? We’re not friends, you’re not my mate, as you’ve made abundantly clear by the way you’ve been treating me ever since we met. I don’t owe you anything, John Winchester. Much less time or even more of my energy.” Her words were like a slap to my face, and in my surprise, I let her pick up the basket and continue her walk towards the laundry room once more.

But not before I heard her last words. “Believe me, if I had anywhere else to go, I would have left a long time ago,” she mumbled almost to herself. “You must think I have no self-esteem whatsoever.”

That one hurt. It hurt because it was clear by the pain in her own voice that it was the truth. She would have left the bunker, she would have left this life behind without ever looking back because of the way I’d been treating her.

I couldn’t deal with that. So instead of accepting that reality, irritation coursed through my veins at the thought of her ever leaving.

“What about James?” I inquired, following her down the hall and finding her loading her clothes in the machine. She only turned around to face me after she was done with the task, crossing her arms once more as she leaned against the metal.

“What about James?” Y/N questioned, raising an eyebrow at me. “You’re not seriously suggesting you’d like me to join a gang, are you?” I didn’t have anything to say. I didn’t. I didn’t want her going anywhere, much less with him.

Suddenly, I was all too tired. I think it was visible because I deflated. My shoulders slumped, I looked down at my own feet as I rested my hands on my hips. “No, I’m not.” A short silence followed, and when I looked up at her again, it was to find her mouth-slacked, staring back at me.

“What?” At my question, she immediately shut her mouth before reopening again and then frowning. It was like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to say something or not. Finally - unfortunately - the latter option seemed to be the one she chose.

“Nevermind.” She turned around to fiddle with the buttons of the machine, like it wasn’t already on, and I knew what this was. This was a way out, an invitation for me to leave and let this conversation die like it had never even existed in the first place.

But I was tired.

“It’s hard to relax around you.” That was how my admission started, and even though it wasn’t planned, I didn’t hate it. I didn’t immediately feel like retreating, retracing all of my steps until suddenly I was out of the room and away from my own feelings.

No, I couldn’t run from them anymore. Not if I had any chance of making her want to stay.

“Why?” The question wasn’t unexpected, but it still made me sigh. I really hated making myself vulnerable, and any instance of sharing my thoughts and feelings felt like it for me.

“Well, first because every single part of my being is asking me to bend you over whatever’s nearest and just take you.” Our eyes met for the first time since I started really talking, and the meeting of our gazes was heavy, but not unwelcome. I’d take any sort of connection with her, any show of her willingness to forgive me. “Shit, you just have no idea how attractive you are.”

The corner of her lips turned up at my words, betraying just how much she liked to know about her effect on me,  and I couldn’t help but mirror it as I kept going.

“And it’s not just because you’re my mate either,” I confessed, watching the surprise shine through her features. “It really is… you. And it’s so hard to control my reactions to you. I always get carried away, because I crave… I crave to be with you on a cellular level.”

I took a deep breath before finishing what I needed to say, the hardest of my admissions. “You’re the only one I want now, I know that. But I can’t accept that yet.” 

“Why?” So maybe I was wrong. This was the hardest thing to confess, the hardest truth I’d have to face. This is what I’d been trying to run from, ever since that morning when she told me off. 

Because I couldn’t forgive myself for it. And I feared the moment that she knew, she’d hate me forever. But it was time to say it.

“Because I know you, Y/N. I met you when you were still a kid, I played with you, I put you on my lap and made you giggle. You used to play with my beard and tell me I looked like a werewolf. I can’t just let that go.”

I braced myself for her reaction, anticipating the very worst. But she only looked at me with an amused smile, her arms crossed in front of her and her head tilted. “You feel bad about wanting me because you knew me as a kid.” Well.. yes. Was she really expecting a confirmation?

The chuckle she let out from under her breath warned me that she didn’t. Still, I couldn’t help but tightly hold onto my fears as I watched her slowly approach me, arms falling to the sides until she was within reach of mine.

“I think it’s clear I’m not a little girl anymore, John.” Well, she wasn’t wrong, and the effect she elicited on me just by holding our hands together showed just as much. “And the man I met, the man that held me on his lap when I was a kid, is not the same that’s staring at me right now. You are my mate. The same can’t be said for the man from back then.”

My entire body buzzed with electricity from the connection of our hands, and the realization that she didn’t hate me. Through her eyes, I could see there was a way for us to get through this, a way for me to somehow move past my own past.

I noticed the familiar twinkle of mischief in her eyes before she even opened her mouth to break the moment. “I think you should just admit that you want to kiss me.”

Chuckling, my hands instinctively let go of hers to find a hold on her waist, pulling her closer to me. “What good will that bring me?” But the little rascal just shrugged.

“I dunno. I might do it.” No other words were necessary. My body acted of its own accord, and I cradled her face with my palms before bending down to meet her lips, chuckling to myself once we parted and I realized she had to stand on her tip-toes to reach me.

“Well, that was a sweet first kiss,” I commented, rubbing my nose on hers and appreciating her little giggle. “The kind of sweet I’d hoped the first time I got to touch you would be. But you just wouldn’t let me have that, now would you?”

Silence took over my teasing, and I watched as she took a deep breath before saying what was on her mind. “You know… I wouldn’t mind being your secret if that’s the only way I could have you.”

I knew it wasn’t her intention, but it felt like a punch to my stomach. Had I really been this mean? That she’d think my worst problem with our situation was that I didn’t want to be associated with her?

“I don’t want to keep you a secret,” I made sure she knew. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” Our lives were entwined now, I knew that. I needed her here. And I’d do whatever I needed to make her stay.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep teasing you until you break, huh?” I chuckled, squeezing her hips a bit before finally letting her go. It was relieving to see that she understood I needed time.

My chest filled with hope as I watched her leave the room, but not before throwing me a wink over her shoulder. God, she was making me soft. It wouldn’t take much for her to get me to break.

[thevoilinauttheory]

survivin’

[ FFxivWrite 2021 Prompt 8: Adroit ]

The Five Part “In the Dreams of Ashley” series is done! Go read the others here! {Prelude} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Wind} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Fire} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Water} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Earth}

[ HEAVY HEAVY CONTENT WARNINGS: implied child abuse/assault, detailed suffocation, detailed burial while alive, heavy grief and regret surrounding death ]

[ video has lots of moving colors ]

Dreaming about being buried alive is very frightening and is a warning that all of the things in your life that are causing you anxiety and despair should be thrown away. You have let things build up to a point that you are no longer able to control anything and now you risk being completely destroyed.

==

Ashley was forced into a uniform with little knowledge as to why, having just woken up with a raging headache and handcuffs on. Confused was an understatement. “Y’good?” There was a soft voice that addressed him, a soft voice that belonged to a large man. His hand set on his shoulder, some level of comfort and grounding while he gathered his bearings. “Wh-What’s goin’ on?” “Y’don’t know?” “Pretty sure the knot on th’back o’ my head answers that.” The man let out a laugh, then nodded. “Guess so. Yer bein’ conscripted.” “Conscripted? How in the hells!” Ashley pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh… he should have been more upset about this, but honestly, it felt like the worst kind of inconvenience. Still, he didn’t fight it, worked with the flow of everything as he usually did. “Guess I’m stuck here.” “We all’re, friend.” “What’s your name, friend?” He snorted. “Hunter. Ya’?” “Ashley.” “Nice t’meet ya’ Ashley, too bad it ain’t on better terms.” He nodded in response.

-

“Yer gonna get caught.” Ashley chuckled. “I never get caught. That’s the thing ‘bout growin’ up in Ul’dah.” “Mm.” “Hand me your rations.” “Are y’kiddin’? I ain’t givin’ y’anythin’!” “Sure? Thought y’wanted to get out o’ here, same as me. N’if y’do, you’re gonna have t’give ‘em to me.” “Why?” “Uh… food to last us until we get home?” “N’how ‘bout the energy they’re makin’ us use t’fight?” Ashley snatched Hunter’s rations from him, stuffing them into a tight and inconspicuous corner with the rest of all of the little items he managed to get away with - some string, blades, pins, badges; even things like hair-ties and pens. Anything he could get away with shoving in his pocket, he did so. He bumped his elbow back into Hunter and lowered his voice. “Get somewhere else, someone’s ‘bout to come in.” “Eh? How’d’y’know?” “I’ll tell you later, jus’ get or we’re gonna get caught.” Hunter backed off, going back to his own belongings to check them off; leaving Ashley to slide a sizeable block of concrete in front of the hole in the wall, covering it completely. “Tucker!” “Yes, sir!” “What are you doing on the floor, get your arse up now.” “Sorry, sir! I dropped my badge.” He stood up, adjusting the collar of his uniform with a small pin on it.

-

“How are we going to get past them? Did you even think that far through?” The Auri woman that had joined along prodded at him while he was thinking. “Will you shut it?”

Four of them clamored and cramped in the vents, waiting for a good time to drop out of them. They were dressed in different uniforms, to match those of the area they were about to infiltrate. When an opening arose, he dropped out of the vent, brushed off his clothes, then pretended to idly look at the schedule board that was on the wall. Well, he was looking at it, but also waiting for another good time to signal another body. He tapped his chin, stretched his arms above his head as the last person in the hall walked past him - he held up a signed “C”, and waved his hand. That let the other two know to let Colette drop down first, she did just the same - brushing out her uniform before striking up an uninteresting conversation about the schedule.

They waited for the hallway to clear again. She held her thumb and forefinger together and waved, signaling Ruta to come down next. As the next crowd came through, she pretended to be scolding them. It cleared, Ashley waved, and down came Hunter. Hunter always came last - he wasn’t the best actor or liar, so they made sure that he could be ready to move immediately. They walked down the hall, past many unsuspecting soldiers and medics, until they were able to escape the facility they were locked up in. “Oh, thank gods.” Hunter let out a sigh of relief at the fresh air, no matter how cold it was. “Sh. We ain’t there yet. There’s still the entire damned city. Make sure your bags are on tight, n’if not, fasten them. I mean it. Y’gotta be ready to book it once we get through.” “What are we going to do after?” The question was, thankfully, vague enough to not alarm anyone they were passing by; but Colette anxiously gripped the shoulder belt to her bag. “Hoof it.” “On land? All the way back?” Ruta folded her arms over her chest. “I’ve worked it out already, trust me.”

-

“How in the hells did you manage that!” Ruta laughed as she ran across the snow, outside the metal confines of Garlemald. “It’s cold, but kami, it’s free!” “I came prepared.” “Is that why your bag is larger than ours.” “Yeah. Managed to snatch a few uniforms and some blankets. We’ve got a long way to walk - most of it’s dead here. No life whatsoever, just snow. Ruta, yer on the way back first.” “Wait… is that why we’re walking?” “Aye. Othard connects here - stowing away on a ship or airship would skip over you entirely. So prepare t’get intimate with one another, ‘cause we’re gonna need a lot of body heat.” Ruta stopped and blinked at him. “...Thank you.” “You can thank me when y’get home. After Ruta, we’re going to stowaway on a merchant vessel - it’ll look more Garlean than Hingan, but it’s goin’ to get hijacked by pirates from Limsa. Which is how we get Hunter home. After that, Colette n’I’re gonna hitch a ship back t’Vesper Bay, and I’ll walk her back home.” They all seemed… shocked. Appalled, even. That this stranger would go out of his way to know so much about the way back, and that he’d help them even. “Where’re y’goin’ after that?” Hunter pat Ruta’s shoulder to get her moving again. “Mm. Back home, maybe. I dunno. Maybe I can get a job like this.” He laughed.

==

“Mister?” “Mm?” Ashley looked up from his book, pipe hanging loosely from his mouth as his eyes caught a young girl standing next to him. Her face was red from crying, and looking over her clothes brought back memories and images he wished he didn’t have.

“...Need help?” His voice lowered, to not draw attention. She nodded, and he stood up from his seat to pull off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders - it was obviously too large, but that was the point. He pulled a hair-tie from his pocket to tie back her hair, so that its general style was different at a glance. He lifted her up to sit in the chair, having her hold the book up as if she were reading it. He placed his arm on the back of the chair, talking random nonsense about words in the book to the girl as his eyes caught a glimpse of several people walking in, looking around for something or someone. When he noticed the girl’s grip on the book tightened, he figured those were the people she was hiding from. He placed his hand on one of hers, holding the book up as well - and he kept his voice just as low.

“Relax… don’t show any tension. If they see white knuckles, they’ll get suspicious.” She did just that, nodding slowly. “Okay… uhm.” She was afraid her voice would be recognizable if she spoke, so she kept it low. “What’s this word mean?” “Eh?” He looked back at the book, noting she was just pointing at the word “the”, to which he smiled - she was trying to play along with him. “That word? Oh! That’s a name, sweetheart. I know, all them Elezen got such fancy names, y’could swear y’saw ‘em in a dictionary.” They kept on like that until he saw all of those same people leave. “There y’go. All gone. Need someplace safe t’stay?” “Mm..” She didn’t trust like that, and he noticed. He laughed, waving one of his hands. “Not with me. I have a friend who takes care of children goin’ through what you are. I can make sure y’get there with no problem. Unless you’ve got a place? I can take you wherever you need most.” She smiled a little bit, nodding. “Someplace safe… sounds nice.” “Good! Now up y’get. I’ll look inta these people that hurt you, okay?”

==

He stared down at those graves, the ones he made; carved up of nothing but rocks and dirt, with desert blooms laid in place. All the thoughts welled up there - what he could have done, what could have gone better. Memories of all the times they had, wondering why he never said more. A lot of things were left unsaid - Ruta never got to propose to Colette, they never got to choose the colors of their wedding, or what flowers, what food and drinks; they never got to dance, and the last sight of each other wasn’t even a damned smile!

He cursed himself silently.

Hunter never got to go on about his newest niece, never got to tell the unheard stories of his family, never got to see the world as much as he dreamed, never got into a bar fight with a pirate; that the last he’d see of him was a damned smile! He never got to tell him-- He never got to tell them…

Ashley stared at the graves and knew…. this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

He sat down in the dirt in front of them, offering some vague notion of a smile. “Y’won’t believe me. I know it. But… helped someone out today. Didn’t turn ‘em down. Didn’t make any snarky comments or nothin’. ‘Member that time out in the eastside of La Nocsea? It was like that, unfortunately. But, despite their faults n’corrupt nature, got the Blades t’clear ‘em all out after trackin’ ‘em to wherever they were hidin’.”

He let out a soft sigh. “...I miss y’all. So much. Y’meant so much to me. I was jus’ s’posed to take y’all home… n’y’stayed with me. You were my family… everythin’ I had. N’I… n’I jus’...” He shook his head. “I wish I could’ve done more. I… I… I love y’all, with all I could. Each n’every one o’ya’. I… never got t’tell you that. I hope… wherever y’are now… you know that. I’ll keep livin’ on, keep y’strong. Yer memories aren’t wasted, aren’t gone. Not yet. I’ll be damned if your story don’t get heard, though.”

He closed his eyes for just a moment

He snapped awake, not upright; he laid flat and stared at the pitch darkness in front of him. The bed below him was hard - it felt more like a floor. Wasn’t he in the dirt before? He could’ve sworn he was outside but a few seconds ago. It must’ve been a bad trip, lost all sense of time and ended up wherever he was now. All he had to do was find his stuff. He tried to sit up, only to slam his head on a short ceiling. “Augh… ow…” He tried to rub the spot he hit, only for his arm to scrape a wall right beside him. What was going on? He placed his hands flat on the shallow ceiling, feeling around - it was wood - he tried to find some means of escaping. There must’ve been a latch *somewhere*. One hand lowered to his pocket… most, if not all, of his gear and possessions were stripped of him; though he pat around to find an assortment of objects in the corners of his prison. When his hand landed on a lighter, it immediately lit up.

A coffin. Was he dead? Had they found him and buried him with his family? Did he… even want to be dead? The response of him slamming his hands on the lid and screaming for someone answered that question. There must’ve been a mistake, he wasn’t dead - he wasn’t! There was no way, none of this could be real. Dirt fell in between the cracks of the splintering shell he was incased in, no one was going to come. No one could hear him. He could feel the tears at his cheeks, the deepest recesses of his mind coming forward.

He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready to join them. “Gods, please… please…” He hoped some entity would come forth to dig him up and let him breathe. It was getting hot, he could barely catch his breath; like something stuck in his throat. He tried to cry for help again, met with the same silence. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, settling on his mouth and face and numbing his skin while he choked on nothing. He slammed his hands against the wood. Maybe there was just a small bit of air, if he could just get out. He dug his nails into the splinters and chips, tearing back his fingernails for just a *chance* at being able to dig his way to freedom. He was getting tired, though, exhausted. His chest hurt, and he could no longer hold up his arms. He stared at the darkness above him. Regardless of whether he wanted it or not, he could feel his vision fading - he tried to keep his eyes closed while gasping for the air that didn’t exist.

==

Ashley snapped awake, upright, this time; eyes forced closed by the brightness of the sun reflecting off the walls of the city - still in front of the graves of his family. He panted heavily, head reeling from the nightmare.

A nightmare.

Just a nightmare.

He was never so thankful for knowing it was just a dream.

[madlilsongbird]

Watching The Amazing Spidernan movies so that I’m all caught up before No Way Home. Will add my thoughts as I have them. Note I am not some big Spider-Man fan nor have I read the comics so if my thoughts sound kinda stupid they probably are.

First movie:

That’s a good trick with the broom. Making a mental note as we speak.

Actually seeing Peter say goodbye to his parents is horrible and I would like to never experience it again

SALLY FIELD IS AUNT MAY?! Why does this one have the good cast? (not good as in better but good as in more well known)

The sexual tension in “good morning flash…good morning Peter” (this is a joke I’m not shipping him with his bully)

Jesus roid rage much?

Shut your blinds! I don’t know who would be looking in your window at this exact moment but close them anyway!

First careful, you never know who is watching what you search (when did I become this person)

Second…curt connors is ableist.

Poor Rodrigo Guevara

Oh internalised ableism. And that is the only comment I will make going forward because my disabilities do not include limb difference and I dont want to overstep.

Stop following the man, you are not subtle…wait wtf how’d he do that?!

This is where he gets his powers right?

Okay but when would 5 men make that much of a fuss over a woman that only 1 of them seems to know?

Same. (This is in reference to smashing the alarm clock)

Oh my god is it really necessary to show all the different kinds of spider bites.

Actually just going back to the internalised ableism thing…he is allowed to feel whatever type of way about his own disability that is his right. But insinuating that all disabled people are weak and wanting to breed out the weakness is eugenics and just kinda gross. THIS is the final comment I will make on the matter.

No but seriously he is way more aggressive than regular teen boy aggressive so either he’s on something or he’s overcompensating for something

The way he looks at him doe (again all jokes am not shipping flash and Peter)

Why is this so awkward? And not like teens navigating a crush awkward just genuinely awkward. I feel no chemistry between them.

I like the song, it’s an interesting choice for this scene but I like it.

Stop does uncle Ben die now? Like I know uncle Ben dies at some point but I was really kinda hoping he just wouldn’t in this iteration. I was going for a ninth doctor moment “just this once everybody lives”

MOTHERFUCKER

God Sally is incredible

Don’t show me moments of Flash being human I might accidentally start shipping them for real and that simply can’t happen.

Oooh he’s a fashion designer

I just really enjoy how he takes the piss out of his victims? Arrests?

Is Gwen aware that the school nurse can’t cure everything? Both legally and just like generally doesn’t have the knowledge to cure everything. She suggests going to the nurse a lot.

This family gives me bad vibes

This is a long movie…it’s not even half way through

Well that’s one way to tell her

NOT GEORGE FOYET!

I think with what I remember of SpiderTobey and what I know of SpiderTom, Andrews Spider-Man is definitely better with the people he’s rescuing. Smoother, good bedside manner.

His sons name is Jack. Why does that make me angry?

So he’s just not gonna rescue the other people hanging off the bridge?

It’s almost poetic that the son of the man tried to stop him the first time will be the one to stop him now

Now how is he getting enough power in the sewer

No means no Peter

Does she die in this one or the next one? I don’t imagine her dying will help captain stacey see him as a good guy

Stan 🥺

This movie is exhausting and I don’t know if I mean that in a good way or a bad way.

MoThEr HuBbArD aRe YoU sErIoUs

He managed to get three whole words out and you didn’t think to ease up on the trigger a little to hear what those words might be?

She’s very clever and I will be sad to see her go

That wasn’t her scream. Or it was but from a different take.

Foyet about to be coming in clutch

I’m going to cry.

He’s so ugly. Some lizards are really cute but lizard + human, kinda gross looking.

Well shit. I didn’t know that happened. I guess what I said about him being upset with Peter about Gwen is irrelevant. Unless it isn’t, like if you believe in the afterlife, imagine how pissed he’s gonna be when Gwen arrives.

He finally got the eggs 🥺

As someone who’s boyfriend at the time didn’t go to her fathers funeral I feel ya Gwen. I mean I don’t care now but at the time it sucked.

Dr Connors was just in a silly goofy mood. He seems to show genuine care for the boy (this is mostly sarcasm).

Second movie

Oh we’re going back to peters dad.

How do they have access to a private jet?

Miss Honey is badass

Ngl I’m actually quite relieved they both died before the plane crashed. Stil devastating though.

Okay so this is first up on the list of potential mystery villains in No Way Home…he looks like a tool.

HeLLo PeDeStRiAnS

He really just let Spider-Man put his hand on his tongue. Sir do you know where his hand has been? Not to mention just in general the feeling of spandex on your tongue. I feel ill.

No respect for the proper care of plutonium.

Please don’t ever say “come to daddy” again 😂

I’m kinda sad Jamie Fox becomes a villain, his character seems kinda sweet so far from the 2 seconds I’ve seen of him

You mean to tell me he missed his girlfriend’s fathers funeral AND her valedictorian speech?!

Stan x2 🥺

Because you can’t lose me you’re going to lose me? 😂

I love her jacket

Why are they still pretending like she doesn’t know?

I may have spoken to soon about Max

See I would be speeding up daddy’s death if he told me he’d passed down a genetic disease and just decided not to tell me.

Friendship.

Okay max is still a little bit nutty but you gotta feel bad for the guy. He must’ve been so scared.

Don’t smile that’s not cute, if he was a regular boy you’d file a restraining order.

Oh I see Spider-Man is gonna fight him which will make him turn and become the “bad guy” whether he will actually be a bad guy is still unknown.

This scene is actually kinda just making me angry (the time square scene)

Cops suck man. Peter was talking him down just fine.

Did nobody teach these people not to touch metal when there’s electricity about.

Interesting that I didn’t pick up any chemistry from them in the first movie weren’t they an actual couple for a while?

Another good song with an interesting placement

I’m sorry did the caller ID not say Mary Parker? How was it Harry on the phone?

Run Gwen!

This version of Harry is kinda creepy I’m sure the actor is swell but the character is terrifying. Original version Harry was swell whereas the actor is…

“Maybe everyone has a part of themselves they hide” gives him the eye

This movies shorter or at least it feels shorter

An excellent show of what happens when you tell a rich daddy’s boy no for the first time.

This makes me very sad. She’s so excited for the possibility of Oxford.

As much as Harry disturbs me, I want him to burn his entire team.

His daddy really did love him!

I think it’s mostly his eyes, his behaviour can be explained by trauma (why I find Harry creepy)

Okay most of his behaviour. The taking joy in killing people that’s just him being nutty and not a trauma response.

This is fucked up. And where is Peter? he is off chasing a girl who has broken up with him twice now.

PLANES NEED THE POWER!

I really like SpiderAndrew, the movies are fine but as a character I thoroughly enjoy him

Sorcerers apprentice who?

Captain Stacy can’t blame him! She’s clearly stubborn as hell and her own free woman

I quite literally stopped breathing (in reference to the almost plane crash)

Is this why they made it Gwen and not MJ so that he could kill her and be an actual bad guy? From my little knowledge of the comics and what I’ve seen from the movies Harry would never hurt MJ so it had to be someone else important to Peter but not super important to him for him to a real bad guy

I like that Harry actually looks like a goblin.

What was the disease he’s supposed to have?

This poor family. I know I said they gave me bad vibes in the first movie but nobody deserves this.

He looks less like a tool with his suit on…but only slightly less

Baby you better get back behind that baracade!

Nobody talk to me I’m very emotional. This child looks very much like a magical mix of all 3 of my brothers put together and seeing him stand there so brave but so scared is doing something to me.

Final thoughts:

So I think SpiderAndrew might be a close second favourite for me. I like the relationships of the original the most, the comedy of the mcu version the most but this one was like a nice in between. Im a little disappointed there won’t be a third not cos I think I would have enjoyed it just cos the original had 3 movies, the mcu version will have at least 3 movies and this one is left out with 2. Don’t think I would have loved Shailene Woodley as MJ though so I dunno. I think the only thing I would have wanted from a third movie is to know who fedora guy is…and for Peter and May to acknowledge that they both know that he is Spider-Man. Apart from that it was fine and I now feel fully prepared for No Way Home.

[misterewrites]

Intro to Caitlyn 102 (Mirror’s Edge)

Hey everyone! E here with another chapter. been a busy week so this is a little late but with any luck I'll have the next underground chapter out this week or maybe another chapter for this story. dunno I'm just having fun in general. I hope you are all staying safe, wash your hands, wear your mask, get the vaccine if you can, keep each other safe! Feel free to tell your friends about this, reblog it or leave comments I'd greatly appreciate it. Trying promote myself is weird haha Stay safe and have a great week!

If you’d like an easier place to read the story, feel free to follow the link below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/76796408

Summary: Caitlyn has her target thanks to one Finnrick Drift and now it's time to break in. After she takes care a few things at home.

-----

Caitlyn sighed as she was unable to keep her eyes off the slivered hue butterfly hair ornament in her palm, the multi-colored glass shards wings stretched wide like it was ready to take flight.

It was beautiful, it was the perfect and it was expensive.

The sliver was real, none of that cheap painted copper or tin or whatever hairclips were normally made of. The different shards of glass had been painstakingly put into place, each fitting together perfectly like a completed puzzle which must’ve taken months to do by hand. And true to his word, she could feel the energy of this item, the magical thrum of its power. It no longer felt cold and distant but warm, light and carried a familiarity with it. It was strange to say but it was almost like the ornament was breathing in time with her. Like it was a part of her.

Of course it was, it’s freaking magic! Frankly magic could do whatever the hell it wanted apparently. The real question was what hidden power laid within.

Somehow in the back of her mind she knew how this thing was supposed to work: it granted her some kind of temporary movement. What that meant she hadn’t the slightest clue. She also knew it would only last an hour and would ‘refresh’ at every dawn. Because that’s a thing. And she knew the spoken word needed to activate it. Which of course meant the word was angel.

Caitlyn frowned, unsure what kind of joke this was. Finnrick had specifically called her angel twice: once when they first met and when asked what exactly the hairclip did. Clearly it was some inside joke he was in on. She just wished she was too.

“Hey Cat, you okay? You keep looking at the wall.”

Caitlyn shook herself out of her stupor and found herself staring at wide brown curious eyes that belonged her baby brother Lou.

Louis or Lou as he preferred to be called, was 7 years old (soon to be 8 next month). He had messy black hair with a cute button nose. He wore clothing typical of a child his age: A red shirt with a hero splashed across its front and baggy shorts. His sneakers were worn and frayed which reminded Caitlyn she really needed to get him a new pair. Between his chubby cheeks and the gap in his smile he was the cutest kid in the world. True he was a bit pudgy due to his lack of height though if he was anything like their father, he would grow to tower over her.

Caitlyn sighed sadly: two years and still no word of her parents. One day they just up and vanished. She used to think they had died through some cruel act of fate or misfortune. In her weaker moments, she briefly wondered if they just left Lou and her behind to start a new life.

But now, with the realization there was a whole magical world on top of her own, she couldn’t fathom what could’ve happened to them. Her thoughts were endlessly filled with possibility and none of them good. None of them made the pain hurt less.

She pinched herself as hard as she could. The sharp pain cut through her wandering mind and focused her back on the task at hand.

“I’m fine” She gave a sly smile “But have you finished your sandwich? A nice man bought it for you and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Lou bounced up and down excitedly, pudgy hands tucked into a fist “Yes, yes I did! It was yummy!”

“Awesome!”

“Who was the nice man?” Lou asked quizzically, tilting his head to one side.

“Umm….” Caitlyn was torn: One hand she wasn’t quite sure where her and Finnrick landed on the whole trustworthy scale. On the other hand she couldn’t just say a random name. Lou had an uncanny ability to know when she was lying. Bordering on supernatural sometimes.

She glanced carefully towards her baby brother, searching for any sign of magic or mysticism in his chubby cheeks.

He scrunched his eyes wide and inched closer to her. She blinked, stumbling backwards at his sudden movement.

“I win!” He cheered with a bright smile “You blinked first!”

It took a moment for Caitlyn to process what was going on.

She laughed softly “Yeah kiddo. You win.”

“So what’s the nice man’s name? It’s not Jonas, is it? He was a creep.”

“Yeah he was.” Caitlyn awkwardly agreed. Her stomach churned unhappily at the thought of her ex. “No, his name is Finn.”

“Finn” Lou paused thoughtfully, eyes narrowed in concentration “Fiiiiinn. Finn! I like it! Fiiiiiiiinn. Can you thank him for me next time you two go out?”

Caitlyn rose a hand up no protest “Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down kiddo. We’re not dating.”

“But why not? You said he was nice.”

“I…” she glanced about the apartment wearily: Peeling paint, barely held together furniture and rent past due. So much work and effort for this ramshackle home.

“I don’t have time kiddo. I got to keep working if we wanna keep this place.”

Lou frowned, his face confused as if he couldn’t understand the word work “But you’re always working Cat. When are you supposed to have fun?”

Caitlyn ruffled his already messy hair lovingly “I’ll worry about that and you worry about having fun...and keeping up your grades.”

Lou’s ears perked up “What? Sorry, I think I hear Hedge calling me.” and without further warning, he bolted into his room, picking up his beloved turtle plush Hedge and dove under the covers.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but grin at his brother’s antics.

Then reality set in again.

She rather not deal with this newly found, barely understood magical world but regular folks weren’t paying the bills like they used to. Her fence was giving her less and charging more. Some bulltshit about paying off crooked cops or whatever. Sounded like a half ass excuse to her but they both knew she didn’t have much options.

Real gold. Any loose change from magical folks could easily lighten her burden and the promise of more sat in some entitled prick’s safe.

She couldn’t resist even if she had tried and she hadn’t tried to stop herself in years.

-----

Caitlyn waited till midnight to make her move. It was easier to blend in with darker shades and regardless of who she was robbing, she wasn’t in the business to make enemies. Especially enemies with unknown powers.

Lou was tucked into bed, nice and cozy with Hedge locked in his arms. Mrs. Palmer, a kindly older woman next door, agreed to watch him. They shared a silent knowing look with one another.

Her apartment was on the less than well kept side of town and everyone had their hands in some sort of shady business here. They tried their best to keep their noses clean but sometimes there were dips into less savory methods of getting cash.

Caitlyn was prepped for the mission ahead: A black blouse with black leggings. Thick black hiking boots for gripping walls and a leather black jacket to keep the cold and sharp pointy objects away from her skin.

She took a sad glance at the jacket, remembering all the times her father joked about handing it down to her when she beat him at arm wrestling. She could still hear dad’s hearty laughter echoing down the hall.

Caitlyn’s eyes hardened as she forced herself to look away “They left. No point in letting good gear go to waste.”

She took a deep calming breath as she ripped the tape off the butterfly knife she hid underneath her bed. She hated unnecessary violence but sometimes it took more than a good right hook to get someone off your ass. Better to have it and not need it than wind up with a bruise of regret.

She slipped the knife into her jacket pocket, slung her bag over her shoulder, nodded thankfully towards Mrs. Palmer and made her way out the door.

------

Caitlyn decided to take the long way: True it was halfway across town and took an hour of traveling but she always enjoyed the quiet that came with waiting. It calmed her, allowed her time to double and triple check her plans with the added benefit of shaking out any loose thoughts rattling in her head with each bump of the bus.

She stared at the beautiful ornate butterfly clip currently holding her ponytail up in the window. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what exactly Finnrick had given her but she didn’t want to use it at the apartment in case it didn’t do what it was supposed to. After all, suddenly having the knowledge in her head on how to work the hairclip was a bit unsettling. Okay really unsettling. Better to use it far away from Lou in case it exploded or something else nasty.

She got off the bus at last and hurried her way over to Andor’s, careful to cover her face whenever she spotted the odd store or traffic camera. She didn’t know who actually controlled them and she didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Andor’s Antique Shoppe (really cute elf boy) was the tallest building on the street: three floors that towered over the single story shops nearby. The street itself was nearly pitch black with a street lamp on either end of the block being the only source of light. Not a soul in sight.

Now was a good time as any to try out the hairclip. Caitlyn closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she focused on the magical item. Goosebumps ran down her spine while the quiet, powerful thrum hummed softly in her ears. The word escaped her lips like it was second nature.

“Angel”

She nearly stumbled as a warm sensation filled her entire being. It covered her like a second skin and suddenly she was aware of the hairclip intimately: It’s weight, where it sat upon her head. She could feel the wings of the butterfly unfold, outstretched and ready to take flight. She heard the shimmering of magic forming into existence and she let out a surprised gasp when her feet lifted off the ground.

Caitlyn glanced in the nearby shop window, tears welling in her eyes:Beautiful translucent butterfly wings extended out from behind her. The outline of the wings were a deep rich purple with the multicolored glass stained shards gorgeously laid across its surface, each as elegant and refined as any art piece she’d ever seen. Each flutter and beat held her aloft, defying gravity’s hold on her. In the shadows of the night, the soft glow of the wings made her look like...

“An angel.” she whispered gently “I look like an angel.”

Caitlyn wiped the tears away. Technically she was a butterfly but this wasn’t the time for sentiment. She had a job to do and the longer she floated out here the more likely she’d get caught.

“Up” she murmured and the wings obliged: she rose silently skyward, each beating of the wings taking her higher and higher. The chill of the wind felt nice across her cheeks and she couldn’t help but relax in its presence.

Her original plan was to simply scale the side of the building and pick the window to gain entry but with her new found vertical movement, it was easier to just go up and over. She made sure she ascended from the end of the street and flew over to the third floor.

Caitlyn tilted her head quizzically as she found herself staring at a haphazardly open window.

“It can’t be this simple.” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously “It has to be a trap.”

-----

Caitlyn stood dumbfounded in the unguarded office of Andor.

She looked to her left then to her right, waiting for some sort of ambush to be sprung.

None came.

“Okay it is this simple.” Caitlyn whispered to herself, opting to just take this stroke of good fortune and run with it. She quietly willed the wings away and with a glitter of magic they vanished into thin air.

She crept over to the black safe tucked lazily in the corner, a stack of important looking documents just thrown on top without a care in the world. She quickly pocketed them and turned her attention to the roadblock in her way. True to Finnrick’s information, the safe itself was fairly simple and wouldn’t take much to break into. Either Andor was extremely confident in his security or really didn’t take being a crook seriously.

Not that it mattered to Caitlyn. It wasn’t her fault Andor hadn’t invested in a good safe.

She pressed her ear against the cool surface of the metal, trying to ignore the icy chill on her cheek as she strained to listen for the nearly inaudible click of the tumblers falling into place. It had taken two tries too many but she allowed herself a smug grin as the safe’s door swung open with a creak.

Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed at the sight of a funny symbol painted onto the back of the door. It gleamed with a strange unnatural light before disappearing all together. Before she could began to guess what bad news that meant, the shouts and thundering footsteps echoed from below answered her question.

“Shit.” She whispered as she began frantically grabbing everything she could: Folders, stacks of papers and clanging metal in heavy pouches. It all went into her bag with as much speed as she could muster.

The footsteps grew louder with a frantic pace. They were already on the second floor if she hazard a guess. Caitlyn made for the window and without a second thought, flung herself outside with all her might.

“Angel!” She hurried muttered but the wings were forming too slowly. She already crossed past the next floor down when they barely began to outstretch from her back. Caitlyn was no physics major but even she knew there was no way she’d be able to slow down in time to avoid breaking her neck. She shielded her face with her arms and tried not to flinch as she waited for the pain to set in.

It didn’t come.

Instead she felt herself slow to a stop midair and just stayed here. Caitlyn opened her eyes to find herself bobbing up and down inches away from the pavement. There were a pair of legs as well: Black slacks and well polished loafers with the bottom half of a black tattered trench coat.

“Falling for me angel? I didn’t expect it to be literal.”

She glanced up to found herself staring at the one and only Finnrick Drift before her, a cheeky smile on his lips and his hand held out.

Finnrick waved his fingers over her and she landed onto the sidewalk with a soft thud.

He offered her his hand but she preferred to scamper to her feet in the most ungraceful way possible. Her cheeks burned with a pinkish hue at the sight of the P.I.

“Thanks.” She couldn’t keep the embarrassment out of her voice “I….thanks.”

Finnrick nodded “Anytime.”

“WHY IS THE DOOR LOCKED?!” A voice roared from overhead.

“CUZ IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOU IDIOT!”

Realization knocked Caitlyn out of whatever was going on here but as she turned to make a break for it, Finnrick rose his hand to stop her.

She glanced at him, lost and confused.

“The favor. I’m calling it in.”

“What?! Here?! NOW!? You got to be kidding!”

“I kid about a lot of things.” Finnrick admitted “but not this.”

“We’re standing outside the place I just robbed! This isn’t the time!”

“Yes it is.”

Caitlyn took a step back and cast a suspicious look at the private investigator “You were using me, weren’t you? You didn’t want to get your hands dirty so you let me borrow the wings so I can steal the thing for you!”

Finnrick shook his head.

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Caitlyn snarled

Finnrick answered simply “You were clearly better at locks and sneaking around than I am. I was actually having trouble figuring how to pull this off. Every option ended with a fight with Andor. That’s why I’m out here. Why I busted every cameras on the street and managed to keep the window open. To make sure you were okay.”

“Where even were you?!” Caitlyn tried in vain to recall seeing Finnrick on the street “it doesn’t matter! You want me to trust you?! Just like that?”

Finnrick sighed tiredly “Please angel I trust you.”

Caitlyn’s eyes went cold “That is your mistake, not mine.”

Finnrick stared back at her, his dark brown eyes warm and gentle “Trusting you is my choice. Breaking it lays entirely with you.”

Caitlyn felt the rage and distrust drain out of her and replaced with a tense exhaustion.

Angel. He had let her borrow the wings and while there was no way he’d let her keep them he did give it to her for a favor. A simple favor he promised.

She sighed in defeat “What’s the favor?”

“I need a paper from the stack.”

“And if I give it to you, will you let me go?” She asked, hating how weak and vulnerable she sounded.

“No” Finnrick spoke without hesitation.

Caitlyn's shoulders sagged with disappointment.

“I will protect you.”

Caitlyn couldn’t help but stare at Finnrick: His face was scrunched up in a rather cute sense of determination and his body was relaxed. It was clear he was trying to be as nonthreatening as possible and despite her recent outburst, he seemed more concern with her than himself.

When was the last time someone offered to protect her? Granted she didn’t need any but even Caitlyn had to admit it was nice to hear.

They stood there for a moment, the angry shouts and cursing of Andor and his thugs breaking the silence of the night.

“Which paper is it?”

“It’ll be a single sheet with some fancy silvery writing on it.”

It took her no time to find it: It was thicker than all the others, written on some ancient paper that was aged yellow with time but was otherwise intact. The shining silvery writing was indeed fancy but nearly impossible to make out. She could actually feel her eyes water just looking at it and she wasted no time shoving it into Finn’s hand.

“There!” Caitlyn cast a nervous glance towards the third floor window “I kept my end. Now keep yours. Please.”

Finnrick said nothing. He instead tucked the loose paper inside his coat and offered a hand to her.

Confused but running out of options, she gingerly took his hand in hers. She flushed at how warm he was. Caitlyn let out a yelp as Finnrick pulled her in. She tried to keep her cheeks from turning a lovely shade of red when Finnrick held her close.

Finnrick began chanting, his hands drawing unseen symbols in the air. Caitlyn could feel the same warm sensation from earlier wash over her as Finnrick’s spell took effect.

-----

“FIND MY STUFF NOW!” Andor screamed with bloody rage. He was typical of an elf: Impossible well kept blonde hair that flowed to his back, piercing forest green eyes. He was tall and lean with the tackiest suit anyone had seen. Reds and pinks in some sort plaid pattern. He called it looking good. His goons called it a headache. His pointed ears twitch unhappily as he struggled to listen for any sort of sound nearby but found nothing beyond the usual quiet hum of the city.

Andor groaned unhappily as he made his way to the window. His eyes scanned the street with a clarity not even the most technologically advance camera could match. His elf eyes took in every detail through the shadows: every imperfect scratch on the brick buildings, the asphalt embedded with the grooves of tires, cracked sidewalks that spread out like bolts of lightning.

Nothing. Not a single soul was in sight. The silhouetted street was bare and empty.

“FUCK!” Andor screamed into the silence “FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! FIND THEM NOW! CHECK THE FRONT DOOR CAMERA!”

“We can’t boss, it was fried yesterday, remember?”

Andor shut the window with a violent thud.

-----

Caitlyn let out the tense sigh she hadn’t realized she had been holding in.

She instinctively looked towards Finnrick only to find empty air.

“We’ll have to be invisible a little longer. They’ll be searching the shop before they think to start fanning outside. Andor will be making the process longer. Let’s get to the end of the street and I’ll drop it then.”

Caitlyn nodded for a moment before realizing he couldn’t see her

He guided her arm into his and the pair briskly walked down the street. It felt weird to walk invisible, arm in arm, while a childish elf baby raged behind them.

When they reached the end of the street, Finnrick dropped the spell. The two reappeared as quickly as they’d vanished. Caitlyn pulled away from the detective, her body shivering from the sudden lack of warmth.

“Thank you.” Caitlyn murmured softly.

Finnrick tipped his fedora “Any time sweetie.”

“What now?”

Finnrick scratched his chin thoughtfully “It is late and staying here would be a terrible idea. I suspect we both have places to be.”

Finnrick reached into his pocket and held out a piece of paper for Caitlyn to take. She stared at it, unsure what he was offering.

“It’s my fence.” He clarified with a smile “I take it you don’t know a magical one. He’s very trustworthy and he’ll give you a fair price.”

“Thanks” she took the slip of paper “I….thank you.”

“Any time. Good night angel.”

“Wait!” She reached for him but drew back when he turned to face her “Your hairclip? The one you let me borrow?”

Finnrick’s eyes twinkled with amusement “You didn’t hear me, did you? I told you that’s yours.”

Caitlyn could hear her heart thundering in her ears, cheeks ablaze “You sure? It seems like it costed a pretty penny.”

“Pretty amount of gold.” Finnrick corrected with a wink “And I’m pretty sure. I made it for you.”

“Why?” The question slipped out of her mouth “Why me? You barely know me.”

“Not true.” Finnrick nervously bit his lip “You barely know me. I’ve been waiting for you forever now. About five yearsin fact.”

“Me?” Her blush worsened “I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Finnrick took her hand in his once more and softly kissed it. Caitlyn could feel a flutter of butterflies fill her stomach.

He hesitated to break his hold on her but he did so respectfully. Caitlyn could see his cheeks tinged with a pinkish hue as he began walking away.

Caitlyn stood there and watched the detective vanish into the night.

-----

Okay, so she didn’t just stand there dumbfounded as Finnrick walked away. It was probably a terrible idea and definitely not normal Caitlyn behavior but she followed him.

It wasn’t too hard given her newfound verticality. She just waited a few minutes, noted the direction he was heading and flew over the rooftops. Finnrick didn’t seem to be aware he was being followed. He walked the darken streets of Newton Haven, gesturing to the odd person or mythical being cloak in the darkness. His pace was casual and unsuspecting.

Her concerns about running out of time were unfounded as about 30 minutes later, Finnrick ducked into a fairly decent apartment complex. It was better kept than hers but only by a fraction.

A dark apartment on the third floor was suddenly flooded with light as Finnrick Drift made his way inside. He hung his coat and fedora at a coat rack that stood by the door. The apartment was itself humble: he had a battered desk placed by the window, his tiny kitchen was on one side and the door to his bedroom on the other. There was a large file cabinet next to a battered, ancient fridge. Not the place of a well paid private investigator.

Finnrick sighed tiredly as he rolled up his sleeves. The way his body hunched over with the slow debilitate movements he made, it was obvious he must’ve been exhausted. But whatever he was up to must’ve been important because he began drawing on his lovely wooden floor.

Caitlyn couldn’t really guess what the detective was doing beyond the shape he was making: There was a large outer circle and a much smaller one within. An array of symbols were drawn between the two circles such as stars, a crescent moon, squiggles shaped like trees with a language she didn’t understand.

It didn’t take Finnrick long to finish. He stood at full height, wiping the sweat from his brow as he reached into his pocket and pulled a baggie. Carefully, he opened the bag and pulled out a sliver thread that seemed to shine even at this distance. He placed it within the smaller circle and outstretched a hand like he was grasping at something. His eyes, normally a warm dark brown, glowed with blue arcane power. Magical symbols formed before him and the building groaned and creaked like the mere presence of magic commanded it to speak. He lit a match, his lips moving more and more wildly yet no sound could be heard from within. Finnrick closed his hand into a fist and the symbols sunk into the circle. He flung the match onto the sliver thread and the entire glyph blazed with fire for moment. There was a flash of a brilliant light and the circle had vanished only to be replaced by some strange figure.

She was much taller than Finn, so tall in fact the top of her head nearly scraped the bottom of the next floor up. Her hair was wispy, thin threads of sliver that reached to the bottom of her feet. Her skin was pale like moonlight and two dark sunken pits formed her eyes. Her frame was lanky and unnatural like someone had pulled and stretch her into her current form. Her clothes were torn and ragged.

The figure tiled her head curiously at Finnrick who dug into his pocket and pulled out the yellowed paper Caitlyn had given him. The figure was dumbstruck as Finnrick handed it to her with a warm smile. He offered a match to the creature but she shook her head. She gingerly held the paper in her hand, staring at it like was about to vanish into thin air.

Then she ripped it. She tore at it with a fierce, terrifying frenzy. She ripped and ripped and ripped until impossibly small bits of paper rained across the apartment. Caitlyn leaned closer as previously unseen shackles formed upon the figure’s wrist and cracked wide open. They slipped off and vanished into the air.

The figure let out a manic laugh as she shrunk, her limbs realigning themselves until she looked like a proper human sized person only a head taller than Finnrick. Her thin wispy hair fattened to thick, full braids of metallic silver. Her skin remained pale but her dark sunken eyes turned a coal black, full of life and joy. Even her clothes had transformed into a splendid elegant dress that sparkled like stars.

She cried, clear streams of water running down her face as she held Finnrick’s hands tightly. She wailed and shook, unable to keep her emotions in any longer. Finnrick let her, giving only a satisfied grin in response. She handed him a handful of gold, 3 maybe 4 pieces and began patting her dress as if looking for more. Finnrick stopped her, pocketing the gold and shaking his head no. The creature was not satisfied by this and began to gesture wildly about. Finnrick remained steadfast. He gestured to himself, lips speaking but Caitlyn couldn’t read whathe was mouthing this far away. The figure said nothing as a small child matching her skin tone appeared from out of nowhere. The child gestured to his wrist excitedly though nothing was there. The figure scooped the child in her arm and gently kissed his forehead. She glanced to Finnrick and was gone. A gentle warm breeze sailed past Caitlyn’s hidden spot, dispelling the frigid 2 a.m. air.

Finnrick chuckled to himself and despite on the verge of collapsing, made his way to the kitchen. He remained there for a few minutes and reemerged with a steaming cup of those instant noodles found at the store. He made his way over to the window and lifted it open. He placed the foam cup on the fire escape and hastily wrote a note which he folded carefully next to the food.

And with his job seemingly done, he made turned off the lights with a flourish of his hand and made his way to his bedroom. He closed the door and did not reappear.

Caitlyn flew over with the few minutes she had left in her wings. She picked up the cup of ramen, contently sighing with its warmth. She grabbed the note and read it aloud, curious what Finnrick wrote.

Caitlyn felt a chill of run down her spine as she read “Hey! Noticed you watching me and given you didn’t try to attack me, I assumed you had your reasons. If you’re trying to track me for your boss, here’s your warning! I will destroy everything they hold dear. You possibly included. If you just were a person or fae that was just curious, have a warm meal on me! It’s cold out so bundle up. Have a good one and don’t touch the window. I am a powerful warder.” F- :)

Caitlyn couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her lips as she saw the cute smiley Finnrick had ended the note with.

She held the cup close as she made her way to street level. Finnrick told her she’d understand in time. She wished she understood now but she shocked to find herself more than willing to find out.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Ch 6- Shots In The Dark Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: Katie and Bucky head to the 99 to dig out some old case files that might help them on the case. Steve comes back to work, but he shouldn’t be there really, coz like he was banged up pretty bad. They go to a bar and there’s a fancy fireman called Johnny knocking around with the Nine-Nine crew. Steeby doesn’t like him…and it all kinda goes a bit wrong.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words.

Episode Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (Yeah, it’s nice and friendly now…)

Song for Episode:  New Rules by Dua Lipa

A/N: This entire series contains dark humour (CSI + Brooklyn 99=CSI Steeb) Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read the SSB series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from so somethings might puzzle a few of you if you ain’t, but feel free to ask. Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

Enter the NINE-NINE! We’ve used a lot of quotes from the series, that we know are not in their original settings but just indulge us because dammnit, it made us laugh!!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments  

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List 

Main Masterlist 

“And the wanderer returns!” Jake Peralta greeted Katie warmly as he stepped out of the elevator to greet her at the front desk of the 99 Precinct Building. “Good to see you Jake!” She beamed, giving him a hug before she stepped back “This is Sergeant James Barnes, or Bucky.” “Pleased to meet you.” Bucky said, grasping his hand. “So how’s DC treating you?” Jake asked as they stepped into the elevator. “Not bad.” Katie shrugged “The work is good but, well it’s not home ya know?” Bucky shot her a side glance, that was the first time he had heard her admit that she missed Brooklyn, and he had a feeling that her reconciliation with Steve had something to do with it. “Well you know what they say?” Peralta smiled “You can take the girl outta Brooklyn” “And then bring her back” Bucky quipped, earning him a dig in his ribs. The elevator door opened and they stepped out into the open plan office and Bucky winced at the cacophony of noise that hit his ears. Katie grinned and hugged a smaller, short haired man before she moved on to an Auburn haired woman, and then smiled and fist bumped a taller, darker haired lady. “Hey Diaz.”

“Stark.” The woman’s face flickered into a grin as she pulled Katie into a hug “good to see you”

“Wait a minute. Are we hugging?” Katie pulled back “Have we ever done this before?”

“No,” Diaz replied “And if you tell anyone, I’ll slit your throat.”

Katie laughed. “Does Terry get a hug?” Bucky looked up to see an absolute unit of a man strolling towards them. The man was dressed in a normal shirt, with a tie and suspenders but Bucky couldn’t help but stare because, well, he was fucking huge. He was even bigger than Steve and that was saying something. “Oh Terry gets a hug!” Katie laughed, stepping forward again. “Good, coz Terry missed Katie…” “Does he always refer to himself in the 3rd person? Bucky turned to the shorter man. “Oh yes.” He nodded “I’m Boyle by the way” “Bucky.” He said, shaking his hand.

“So…” Jake turned to them “All the boxes and case notes are ready in the archive rooms down stairs. I would have brought them to you but my cars in the shop so I rode in on Rosa’s motorcycle. I guess you could say I’m a gear head now.” he nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “He held on to me so tight it was like a two-mile Heimlich.” Diaz shot back, where she was lounging in her chair, phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder “No I won’t hold…”

“Those things have no walls on them!” Jake hissed as he walked to his desk “Let me just grab my breakfast and we’ll head down…” “Are those gummy bears wrapped in a fruit roll-up?” Bucky looked at him in horror as he picked up the film wrapped item.

“Breakfast burrito, but yeah” Peralta shrugged as they headed to the elevator.

“I pity your dentist.” Bucky shook his head.

“Joke’s on you. I don’t have a dentist.” Jake shot back as they all headed towards the elevator.

“Not so fast…” a deep voice said, and Bucky spun round to see the 99’s commanding officer, Captain Holt striding across the floor. “I believe Sergeant Stark has one more person she needs to say hi to.”

Katie narrowed her eyes playfully “Why? Is Cheddar here?”

“Who’s Cheddar?” Bucky asked.

“Holt’s corgi.” Peralta supplied

Holt’s face twitched, into what Bucky supposed you could call a smile, maybe, as the man stuck his arm out and formally shook Katie’s hand.

“Good to see you again. Congratulations on the promotion.” Holt said “I knew you’d get your break eventually.” “Thank you sir.” she smiled.

He nodded at her and then turned to look out over the office. “Ok 99, I just had an email. Our monthly crime statistics are due. I want paperwork on all your closed cases by tomorrow. Scully, you can just write ‘I didn’t close any’ on a piece of paper.”

Bucky looked around to see two, rather large (and by large he meant fat) men sat at desks, both eating some form of wrap. One of them, the one with the strange hair cut that made him look like he had a lego doll head looked up.

“What? I’m confused…” he said slowly.

“Huh.” Holt raised an eyebrow “From your expression, I would have guessed constipated. Or chilly.”

Bucky heard Katie snigger besides him as a nasaly voice from the Auburn haired woman cut across the office.

“Hey, Craptain, you ready to get curb stomped?” “What?” Jeffords’ eyes shot up.

“At chess.” Gina looked at him.

“We have a weekly match. I’m teaching Gina to play. And she, in turn, is teaching me to trash talk.” Holt said, waving his hand in explanation before he turned to Gina “The hospital called. Your test results came back positive. You’re a stage five dumbass.”

Katie looked at Peralta before the pair of them burst out laughing as Gina stood there, nodding, like a proud sensei.

“Oh! You have come so far.”

Bucky simply stood there, mouth hanging open. What the fuck had Stark dragged him into. He dug her in the ribs with his elbow and as she turned to look at him, he shook his head “This…this is…” “The Nine-Nine.” Katie said, fondly “And you spent 5 years here?” Bucky looked at her in disbelief.

“Actually it was just over 6.” Katie said “I moved to the 101 a year after dad died when the opportunity came up to train as a Profiler. I do miss them all though, and their little quirks…which reminds me…Hey” She turned to Jeffords who was now sat at his desk. “Still writing Fan Fiction Terry?” “Fan Fiction…” Bucky dead panned.

“Well, shows and films leave Terry wanting more.” Sergeant Jeffords shrugged “I’m just filling in the gaps.”

Just when he didn’t think shit could get any weirder… Bucky blinked.

“So what grabbed your imagination this time?” Katie continued

“He’s actually writing an original piece.” Boyle smiled.

Terry grinned “Yeah, about a group of super heroes, who save New York from aliens…”

“Let me guess…” Bucky grumbled and they turned to face him “They all dress in lycra and have capes?”

“Not all of them.” Terry looked at him. “Only one has a cape and only one dresses in Lycra, the others are in leather apart from one who is a kind of beast when he gets angry and the other has a flying, metal suit and…”

“Why can’t anyone make super heroes normal people who wear normal clothes?” Bucky shook his head.

“They don’t sit on their couches in their superhero outfits.” Terry looked at him, frowning “They’re normal on their downtime…”

“What is it with you and superhero costumes?” Katie looked at him.

Bucky shrugged “It’s just all, oh I dunno, ostentatious…” “Says the man who owns a rhinestone encrusted denim jacket, yeah, I heard…Steve told me about it ages ago.”

Bucky smirked and shrugged “It’s from the 90s, it was the fashion when we were a kid.” “Hmmm.” Katie pondered, before she looked back at Terry “You’ll have to email me a copy when it’s done.” “Will do, Terry always likes feedback.” “And Katie likes to read, speaking of which…” she patted Buck’s chest with the back of her hand “We need to get digging into those files, Buck.”

He agreed and Katie turned to Peralta. “Lead the way…not that I don’t know where it is but…”

She was cut off by a loud squeal and she spun to see a dark haired uniformed woman, hair pulled back into a ponytail. Bucky just caught the name “Santiago” on her tag before Katie wrapped her in a hug.

“Oh my God!” Santiago smiled, “I knew you were back in town but…”

“I know I should have called…and I’m sorry Amy but, we got a lot to get through so I need to get to it. But, Romanoff suggested a night out. You too Diaz?”

“Drinks sound good” Diaz nodded.

“The Compound? This weekend?” Katie asked “Sure I can wrangle us the VIP treatment seeing as the owner is practically my sister in law.” ““I am sooo up for that!” Santiago grinned “There’s nothing better after a long shift than going to The Compound It’s like Cheers, where everybody knows your name”

Diaz looked at her “A place where everybody knows your name is hell. You’re describing hell.”

******

The doors of the elevator opened and Katie emerged from it followed by Bucky who was carrying a box with the files they had brought from the 99. Thankfully, out of the three boxes Peralta had provided on Rumlow’s case, they had been able to reduce the files with meaningful information to only one.

“Is Stevie’s office open, Wanda? Need to pop these files somewhere safe.” Katie said once they were close enough to the reception desk counter.

Bucky saw Wanda’s eyebrows squeeze together in a wrinkle and her mouth twist with annoyance at Katie’s use of Steve’s pet name. He could tell she was pissed. And to be honest, he was also surprised at the new situation. How Stark had gone from hating the Captain’s guts and going haywire at him calling her sweetheart, to easily referring to him as Stevie, and in public none the less, was something that he couldn’t quite grasp. But then again the dynamic between those two was unique, which was the polite way of putting it.

“Yeah, it’s open. He’s in there.” she answered trying to conceal her animosity.

“What?” Katie shrieked and Wanda shrugged. She turned to Bucky “Can you believe that?”

Bucky just shook his head and muttered “Punk” as both headed for the Captain’s office. They were about to barge in when the door suddenly opened. Steve, who was carrying a cardboard cup holder with two coffee cups, had to raise his right hand above his head to avoid scalding both detectives with the hot liquid.

“Whoooa, easy there!” his voice faltered at the end as his ribs complained at the sudden movement.

“What the fuck, Steve!” Katie shouted “You should be resting at home, you’re still healing.”

“She’s right, punk.” Bucky added as he made his way past Steve to leave the box on the desk. “What? You don’t think we can handle this without you?”

“That’s … that’s not…” he said turning and glaring at Bucky but stopped when he saw an amused expression on Bucky’s face “Enjoying yourself?” he asked and Bucky nodded and laughed.

Steve sighed and turned to Katie who was still at the door arm crossed and he smiled softly, his bruised face lighting up as he spoke.

“I’m ok, sweetheart. Just have to remember not to move like I’m a cheerleader.”

“Now, that’s an image I don’t want imprinted in my brain.” Bucky mused leaning on Steve desk as he prepared for the storm to unravel.

“What’s in the box?” Steve asked.

“Files from the 99.” Bucky said as he watched Katie who was still observing Steve with narrowed eyes.

“Well don’t leave them there, take them into the incident room.” Steve said, “It’s safe enough, we can lock it and-“

At that point Bucky saw Katie’s eyes flicker like a light bulb, the way they did when her brain was trying to spot the missing link and she interrupted him.

“Wait! How did you get here? You can’t have possibly driven yourself.” she said tilting her head, staring at him like he was the suspect of a petty theft. “Oh, you didn’t ride the bike, did you? Steven, tell me you didn’t ride that old, dusty piece of junk!” she carried on ranting.

“What bike?” Bucky inquired now curious while taking a packet of gummy bears Peralta had given him out of his jacket pocket.

“An old bike my father had. Tony doesn’t like bikes so he passed it on to Steve.” Katie explained “It’s a rattletrap…”

“It’s not a rattletrap.” Steve protested “And it’s unique, the handlebars are made from Vibranium. You should show more respect for Howard’s legacy.” he said pointing at her like she was a little brat.

“Whatever.” she said rolling her eyes. “Are you going to tell me how you got here?”

“Sam drove me. He called to tell me he had news on Ross report, he said he was in the area so I made him pick me up.”

Bucky saw Katie’s stance relax a bit with Steve’s explanation but suddenly her eyes darted to him, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit scared.

“Who did you say you had breakfast with before we went to the 99?” she asked Bucky with a sly glance.

“I didn’t say.” Bucky said, putting a bunch of gummy bears in his mouth before he diverted the conversation to Steve again.

“You shouldn’t be here, Steve. You’re convalescing”

Steve sighed, lowered his head for some seconds, a demeanour Bucky could read like the back of his hand. Steve felt tired and lost, he needed to go back to his natural element.

"Look” he said raising his head again, the hand that wasn’t holding the drinks dropped to his hip and he looked at Bucky “I’m tired of being at home doing nothing but watching TV and thinking. I can’t even go for my morning run or go to the gym to blow some steam against a punching bag. I know I should be more relaxed now than ever, but I’m not. Doing nothing is driving me crazy. Surely being in the station can’t be that physically demanding?”

Bucky felt a pang of guilt at his friend’s word. Steve was right. Bucky knew that Steve, for as long as he could remember, had always wanted to do what was right. Even if sometimes that meant a bunch of dumbass decisions. The Captain wasn’t one for sitting back and doing nothing. He even had bags under his eyes and Katie must have noticed too since she asked him

“Trouble sleeping?”

Steve turned to look at her with a huge smile on his face and a sparkle of something in his eyes, Bucky could tell from the way he was standing.

“You could say that.” he replied.

Katie returned the smile and they both simply stood looking at one another for what seemed like way more time than should be acceptable. Bucky suddenly felt like he was a fly on the wall, so trying not to step on the moment, he grabbed the box of files and made to leave the office.

“I will be in my desk if you…” he said when he walked past Katie but she wasn’t noticing him, she was still locked in eye contact with Steve.

“Whatever.” he mumbled and headed for his desk “I feel like I’m invisible. I’m turning into Steve when he was a skinny punk.”

“Now, you’re talking to yourself Barnes.” Natasha said walking from the kitchen followed by Sam, Clint and Wanda.

“Who are you, Regina George and her clique?” Bucky bit back while he dropped the box onto his desk and took off his jacket.

Steve chose that point to walk out into the office

“Sam, Barnes and Stark are back.” the Captain spoke striding towards Bucky’s desk, signalling the man over from where he was perched on the edge of Natasha’s desk. Katie headed to her own, and dropped her purse down, slinging her jacket over her chair. “Can you fill us on the new details about Ross’ PM report?”

“Can I go fetch a coffee first?” Katie pleaded as Sam stood up. “It’ll be real quick, promise.”

“Oh, shit, here” Steve said quietly handing her one of the take out coffee cups he had brought from his office and completely forgotten about “I got you your regular on the way. Your round tomorrow.”

In all honesty Steve had been a little nervous buying that coffee. It had been something they had always done, buying each other a drink on the way in, alternating on days. But since she had returned and they hadn’t been on good terms it had clearly fallen by the wayside. Since the air had cleared yesterday he’d decided to chance it and see how it was received but he needn’t have worried. Katie positively beamed at him before she blurted out “God, I love you.”

Steve felt his neck growing warm as all eyes turned to them and he saw Katie’s own cheeks flush and she sipped from the cup trying to hide her embarrassment “Suri’s Vanilla Lattes are the best.” she said in an over the top, dramatic voice “Oh, how I have missed them!”

"You’re welcome, I think.” Steve said, now full on blushing as he rubbing the back of his neck.

Bucky tried to divert the attention from the pair of dorks before Wanda choked on her own bile and Natasha or Clint made a snarky comment.

“I’m waiting. What, you didn’t bring one for me?” he asked and from the corner of his eye he saw Natasha shaking her head at him disapprovingly. He glanced at Steve who was now flushing even more and that was when he realized he had made it worse by drawing even more attention to the fact that Steve had, in effect, displayed favouritism, whether he meant to or not.

“You want in Barnes you can buy the next round then.” Katie quipped and he glanced at her as she perched on the edge of her desk.

“Fair enough…” he shrugged, and then his attention was taken by Sam who was looking at something on his desk with curiosity.

“You like cats?” Sam asked taking Dot and examining her.

“It’s not a cat. It’s a goat and it’s called Dot.” Bucky said with annoyance. How the fuck could anyone mistake a goat for a cat?

Steve groaned and urged Sam to start with the report details so they could move on with the investigation.

“What? Dude has a cat on his desk and you don’t want to know why?” Sam asked Steve.  "Looks like a cat.“ he shrugged now looking at Bucky.

"I think it looks like a llama.” Katie quipped and Clint’s laugh could be heard all through the floor.

Steve groaned again rubbing his forehead but before he could make one of his famous pep talks, Sam interrupted him.

“All right, before Steve McQueen here’s head blows up…the hair we got on Ross’ trousers?” he offered, opening the folder he was carrying and examining the report.

“Yeah?” Steve asked.

“Funny enough, its goat.” the doctor explained.

Everyone went silent, looking at each other, before Katie let out a laugh and turned to Bucky.

“Maybe we should ask Dot if she knew Ross.”

“Fuck off Stark.” Bucky rolled his eyes, grinning.

“Oooh, maybe she did it…” Katie continued “I mean, do you know her whereabouts that night?”

“You’re hilarious.” Bucky deadpanned, shaking his head.

“Ok. Anything else?” Steve asked Sam, cutting across the pair of them.

“Nope. That’s all I’ve got so far. Got you a copy of the updated report.” he said handing the folder to Steve.

“Thanks, Sam” he said and the Doctor just nodded and patted Dot’s head with his index finger before heading away.

“Romanoff, Barton, start working on a link between Ross and …” Steve paused for a moment trying to sound as professional as possible “…a goat.“

Katie choked slightly and then coughed as Bucky looked at her, before they both started to snigger slightly. Steve rolled his eyes at the pair of them. They were like school kids.

"Right away, Cap.” Natasha nodded.

“It would be my genuine pleasure, Cap.” Clint added, nodding to his computer “Searching for goat farms as we speak. God I’d like to have a farm someday.”

“Buck, you and Katie start with those files. I’ve got a tele-conference with Fury to give him an update so I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

Bucky gave him a salute as he turned and started making his way towards his office.

“Stevie, I got your…” Wanda called out for him before he went away but she was cut off by Steve’s fiery look.

“It’s Steve, Wanda.” he said sternly.

“Yes. Sorry Steve” she said gulping “I just wanted to give you your mail.”

“Thanks.” Steve said, slightly less curtly but still with a slight edge to his voice as he took the items from her.

Bucky saw her walk as fast as she could towards the restroom and he shared a quick significant glance with Steve who just shook his head and turned towards his office. He then looked at Katie who simply stood and picked up the box from his desk as she headed towards the Incident Room. Finally he looked in Natasha’s direction who nodded at him as if confirming they were on the same page-Rogers and Stark were back on full speaking and, so it seemed, full flirting terms.

***** “So as Jake and I explained before the victim was a woman called Sara Klein.” Katie spoke as Bucky spread the papers across the large table. “She was walking home from a bar when she was dragged into an alley and raped.”

“And you think the perp was…this Rumlow guy?” Bucky asked, looking down at a mug shot of a man with dark hair and dark eyes. “Who was a Uniform in the 99?”

“Yeah.” Katie said

“So what made you suspect him?”

“When we took Klein to the Rape Centre for her forensic examination he was there, don’t ask me what for. When she came back from the examination room she heard him talking and literally stated shaking and became hysterical.” Katie paused for a moment “We got her back to the station, calmed her down and that was when she said she recognised his voice…”

At that point Steve walked into the room and they both looked at him, and he gestured for them to continue.

“Peralta and I went to speak to Captain Holt, you know, given the sensitivity of it. He told us to bring Rumlow in for questioning and that he would speak to Fury. Obviously he denied it, said she must have been mistaken bla bla bla but Peralta and I didn’t believe a word of it, I know he did it.”

She trailed off and Bucky looked at Steve who gently laid a hand on her shoulder “He knows.” he looked at her as her head snapped up and her eyes locked onto his “I told him what Rumlow did to you, I’m sorry but I was trying to explain the Sitwell situation and…” For a moment Steve feared she was going to blow up at him but she didn’t. Instead she sighed and shrugged “It’s not exactly a secret anyway…” she wiped at her eyes and Steve gently rubbed her back before she jumped off the desk and walked to the wall, looking at the various bits of notes and evidence.

“Long and short of it, Bucky, is that we had no forensics of any sort to link Rumlow to the rape, no DNA left behind, nothing that wasn’t circumstantial…and then up pops Sitwell to provide an alibi that we didn’t believe for a second. But before we had chance to discredit it, Sara turned up and said she wanted to withdraw her allegation. Said that she’d confided in someone, we never did find out who, and they’d given her all these statistics on how many rape cases actually ended in a conviction and that was it, she didn’t want to put herself through it. Nothing we said or did could convince her otherwise.”

“So Rumlow basically carried on like nothing had happened…” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair. “Well his reputation was in tatters, mud sticks…” Katie said, turning to look at him “He pretty much became a social pariah around the force. And then when he assaulted me he was kicked out, well, told to resign…”

Bucky stayed silent as Steve gently reached over to look at the paper work on the desk.

“So has anything turned up in any of this that can link Ross to Sitwell?” he asked, glancing up at them both.

“Not so far.” Bucky shook his head “But we haven’t even scratched the surface.”

“Well until we have anything concrete to go on it’s as good a train of thought as any.” Steve said. “Maybe it’s worth digging into Sitwell’s background a little more. Schools, Universities, dodgy handshake clubs, that kind of stuff, see if we can link him to Ross that way.”

“Say we do make a link…” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair, eyeing Katie “Gut feeling Stark, is this connected to the Rumlow case?”

“I dunno.” she shrugged “But one thing’s for sure, something stinks about all of this. And I don’t believe in co-incidences.”

“Me neither doll face.” Bucky mumbled, dodging the whiteboard pen she sent flying his way.

******

Three hours and a couple of sandwiches later Bucky and Katie had decided to call it a day. They had gone through Rumlow’s case again and needed a home cooked dinner and a good night’s sleep before they started digging on Sitwell’s school records the following day.

“Ok. My brain is fried. I’m heading home and praying for Tony not being there yet. Wish me luck.”

Bucky smiled at Katie over the screen of his computer. He saw her stand up from her chair and cross her fingers in the air before walking to the restroom. He was saving the documents on his computer and turning it off when he heard Steve.

“Anything significant?”

“Nope.” Bucky said leaning back on his chair and stretching his arms above his head. “Enough for today. And you too, Steve. Finish that coffee you’re drinking and I’ll drive us home.”

Steve nodded and turned around when he heard Katie’s voice from behind him.

“You shouldn’t even be here. Go home and rest, Stevie.” she said casually.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve who rolled his eyes, but he turned to Katie when she let out a little squeal and saw her waving her phone in the air.

“Nat, Wanda come here! Got a message from Diaz!” she said excitedly “GIRL’S NIGHT OUT FRIDAY. How does that sound? She says Amy and Gina are coming too.”

“I’m in” Natasha said grinning at Bucky and turning to Wanda, who had also gathered around Katie’s desk, for confirmation.

“I don’t think I can… I’m sorry.” Wanda hesitated before adding “My cat is sick.”

“Your cat?” Nat asked her with sly eyes.

“Whatever…” Katie rolled her eyes and leant over her desk to switch off her computer “I’m only asking because I’m not petty enough to leave one person out” she muttered only for Bucky to hear.

“Leave it.” Bucky whispered back as he saw Wanda frown and open her mouth to retort to Katie’s initial eye roll and he gave Steve a warning look.

“Wanda.” Steve stepped in “Come to my office. There are some reports I want you to file before you go.” and he started walking away as she followed obediently.

“Ok. I’ll text Diaz saying we’re in Nat. Dinner and The Compound?” Katie asked while grabbing her jacket and purse.

“Perfect. And I’ll convince the little witch.” Nat nodded.

Katie just pursed her lips and nodded before waving everyone goodbye and walking away.

“Ok. All hands on deck. Clint come here!” Nat said her eyes shining with the excitement of plotting. “Barnes. Engage phase 2. We’re going out and we’ll be at the Compound after dinner, I’ll confirm our ETA as we go. You two bring Rogers and I’ll make sure Stark is a little bit intoxicated by then.” she said winking at Bucky.

“I’ll call Peralta, if Santiago is gonna be there, he’ll be up for it. See who else he can drag in.” Clint offered.

“Ok Buck, I’m ready. We can go now” Steve said and looked at them sensing he had stepped into something “Am I interrupting something here?”

“Nah. Nat was telling us the girls’ plans for Friday.” Bucky brushed him off.

“Oh, so you’re finally going out?” Steve smirked at Nat who rolled her eyes at his dig that it had taken her so long to organise something with Katie “But, you do know you and Stark are on call this weekend as Barton and Barnes have done the last two?”

“That we did.” Clint quipped

“It’s ok boss. We’ll behave.” Nat drawled as she spotted Wanda had returned to the reception desk. “Gotta go do something. See ya fellas.”

Steve sighed and shook his head at Bucky “Lets go, Buck. Bye Barton.”

******

“You’re a pain in the ass. No, you’re worse than a pain in the ass, you know that?” Bucky said while closing the car door after getting into the left back seat of Sam’s grey Mercedes Class C.

“What’s the deal?” Sam asked looking at Steve who was now fastening the seat belt of the passenger seat. Perks of being the Captain and still on recovery.

“He’s been grumpy all day. He didn’t want to come.” Bucky explained.

“I told you, I’m on duty this weekend.” Steve said turning his head to look at Bucky as Sam pulled away from the curb in front of Steve’s block.

And he was being truthful, he was the senior officer on call. It had been Holt’s turn last week, but as Bucky pointed out the chances of getting called in were low. Katie was the on duty Sergeant supported by Natasha and God forbid either of them would admit they couldn’t handle any possible situation and had to call their superior in.

“You have more chances of getting laid tonight than being called in tomorrow.” Clint deadpanned from the right back seat.

Steve groaned which made Sam chuckle and give a significant look to the men at the back through the rear-view mirror.

“Where are we going?” Steve asked trying to change the subject.

“We’re picking up Thor” Sam explained.

“And then?” Bucky asked “I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, what’s new? You’re always hungry.” Steve snorted.

“Tell me about it.” Clint scoffed. “I spent all day with him yesterday visiting goat farms upstate. Dude ate a donut dorito hot dog pizza all rolled up like a burrito! Can you believe it?” Clint asked leaning forward to speak to Steve and Sam.

“Hey, I was just optimizing my time.” Bucky shrugged and the three men shook their heads.

“We could stop at Grimaldi’s to have pizza and beers, feed the bastard. Then we’ll drop into the Compound.” Sam suggested.

Both Bucky and Sam nodded in agreement with the plan. Steve groaned again. He was worried about the case being in a deadlock. After two days of digging, they had nothing solid on Sitwell’s connection to Ross yet. Last thing he needed, if he was being honest, was taking care of a bunch of drunk friends and, what was more, he wasn’t gonna drive any of them home, it was Sam’s car after all, he had called designated driver. But then it dawned on him, they were going to the Compound and the girls would be there, wouldn’t they? Suddenly his spirits were lifted and a soft smile crossed his face. But he was snapped from his thoughts again by Bucky.

“Look, I know you’re pissed. You’re still sore from the accident, I get it.” Bucky started to scold him but was interrupted by Sam.

“We’re here. Can someone text him?” Sam announced pulling in a spot in front of Thor’s building.

“Got it.” Clint offered pulling out his phone.

He unclasped the car belt and moved closer to Bucky so as to leave space for Thor in the backseat while fiddling with his phone. Bucky stirred in his seat feeling suddenly trapped.

“Can you move your seat up?” he asked Sam

“No” Sam said without even flinching a muscle on his face.

“Asshole.” Bucky muttered.

He looked at Steve who seemed to be lost in his thoughts and then he turned to look at Clint who kept on texting on his phone.

“Ok. Peralta says he’s meeting us at the Compound. He’s having dinner with some video games buddies now but he’ll meet us later.” Clint informed the rest.

“Will Tony be there?” Steve asked suddenly.

“Of course he will” Clint snorted. “He clocks in day in and day out.”

“Yeah, Pepper has him wrapped around her finger.” Sam added nodding.

“Women.” Bucky sighed looking at his Captain who was looking at the front stoic as ever.

“Greetings, morons!”

Thor’s voice reverberated in the cabin of the car as he sat in the only free seat and closed the door grinning. Everyone greeted him back and Sam started the car again.

“Why are you carrying an umbrella?” Clint asked Thor “It isn’t even cloudy.”

“Oh! It’s my lucky charm.” he said happily. “My lucky umbrella, my father gave it to me when I was a kid.”

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Steve mused from the front seat.

“And a mistake. I mean are you gonna be attached to your lucky charm all night?” Sam asked, hands on the steering wheel.

“I make grave mistakes all the time, everything seems to work out in the end.” Thor shrugged and tapped Steve on the shoulder. “Captain, what are you doing here? I thought you were still recovering from your car crash. You should be sitting at home in your bathrobe, eating grapes.“

"Yeah, or plums.” Bucky added. “Don’t encourage him. He is enough grumpy as it is.”

“Yeah, not helping blondie.” Clint quipped.

“You’re so petty and tiny.” Thor scoffed.

They continued picking on one another for the rest of the journey and the time they spent at the pizza restaurant. Two hours later the five of them were at the main entrance to the Compound, one of the most popular clubs in Brooklyn in the last few years. The club was run by Pepper, Tony’s fiancé, so they were greeted warmly by Happy, the doorman, who let them in immediately after a short informal chat.

“Welcome, Gentlemen” Pepper greeted the group who had now approached the bar where she was chatting idly with Tony. “What a sight for sore eyes, Steve!” she added now kissing Steve on the cheek.

“Yeah, what brings you here Capsicle? Last time I checked you were in a hospital bed looking like shit.” Tony asked Steve.

“Yeah, Katie told us about it.” Pepper interjected signalling between her and Tony. “How are you now? Are you ok? Is there anything I can bring you?”

“I’m fine Pepper, honestly thank you, just a few cuts and bruises. And a glass of water would be great, thanks.”

“Water coming right up.” said Pepper gesturing for the barman to come and take their orders.

“Water, Rogers?” Tony mocked him. “Beers for all for starters. That’s on me and I’m buying a bottle of the best champagne we have so meet me in our private booth when you’re done.”

The group cheered happily at Tony’s offer and sat on the bar stools waiting for their drinks.

A pretty blonde waitress placed a glass of water and a beer bottle on the bar in front of Steve and winked at him, who obliviously took a painkiller from the blister and swallowed it with a bit of water. He didn’t want to take it but the constant bickering of his friends and the loud music and dim lights of the club were making his head pound.

He was sipping from his beer bottle when someone slapped his back causing him to wince at the pain.

“Hey, Rogers. Nice to see you man!” Peralta greeted.

“Hey, Jake. How you doin’?” Steve greeted back with a sincere smile while Peralta nodded and fist bumped Clint.

“Did you come alone?” Clint asked him.

“Yeah, but meeting a friend at some point tonight. He’s working until later.” Peralta answered as he shook hands with Bucky and Sam. “Barnes, good to see you again. Wilson?”

“Hey man.” Sam nodded, and Peralta looked beyond him towards Thor who was scanning the dance floor while moving his head and feet to the beat of the music.

“Oh, you brought Point Break.” Peralta quipped, turning to Clint.

“Yeah, you can’t get rid of him easily, especially if we’re talking about revels.” Clint commented.

“Revels?” Peralta asked frowning.

“A Party, that’s what he calls it.” Sam offered.

“Wow, and I thought Holt had a weird vocabulary.” Peralta muttered.

A little while later Thor had disappeared onto the dance floor and the rest were already on their second beer while chatting animatedly. Steve was beginning to regret having mixed alcohol and meds. Feeling a bit lightheaded, he was seriously considering calling a cab and going home when he heard Peralta whistle through his teeth and Bucky let out a breathy curse.

“Damned.”

“What?” he asked turning around to ask what was going on. They were both looking at the back of the Compound, towards the booths and that was when he noticed what had taken their attention. Katie was stood side on to them, talking to Tony. She was dressed in a dark blue short jumpsuit that sported a large white flowered pattern and a plunge neck line that dipped almost to her navel. Her shoes were high heeled black sandals with a silvery cuff round the ankle and as she turned to say something to Natasha, Steve saw that the back of the jumpsuit was bare bar where the fabric crossed across to each shoulder from the opposite hip.

God she looked gorgeous, scratch that, she looked more than gorgeous.  

“Fuck!” Steve cursed when he noticed his beer had been dribbling down his front. He took a pair of cocktail napkins and tried to dry his shirt while Bucky, Peralta and Sam cackled at him. He groaned and continued wiping as Bucky put one arm over his shoulder.

“Keep it cool, man. It’s not like you don’t know what’s under those clothes.” he said in a low voice, winking at Steve.

“Shut up, Bucky.” Steve snapped but had to do as told as the girls were approaching the bar.

“Hey fellas.” Natasha drawled, “You coming over to join us?”

“Once Rogers has dried off, yeah.” Clint said.

Diaz looked at him, frowning. “Dried off.” “Yeah someone nudged me and I spilt…” he said, gesturing to the front of his shirt.

Katie shrugged “Can’t see anything, your shirt’s black.”

“It’s nice.” Wanda nodded, looking at Steve. He took a deep breath, thinking back to what Bucky had said and merely smiled at the woman politely. Behind Wanda he saw Diaz and Natasha exchange a smirk. Katie, however, was focussed on something else.

“Is that the one I bought you for your birthday last year?” Katie asked, reaching out to gently run her hand over the collar, and Steve nodded and didn’t miss the scowl on Wanda’s face. Totally oblivious to the daggers she was being given, Katie grinned “Wanda’s right, it looks good.”

He smiled at her and then turned politely to Wanda who had said something to him, and Bucky watched as Katie’s eyes lingered on them both for a little longer her eyebrow raised, almost in amusement at the other woman’s attempts to flirt with Steve fell flat.

“You want Stevie to go into cardiac arrest or something?” Buck leaned over to talk into her ear and she turned to look at him “The man is drugged and on alcohol and then you come along looking like that.”

“Fuck off Bucky.” Katie bit back “I wore this because it makes me feel good, you asshole, not for anyone else. And it’s not like I knew you were coming. Why are you guys even here anyway?”

“Boys’ night out” Bucky shrugged.

Katie raised an eyebrow at him “Yeah, of all the places you could pick to go you just…”

At that she stopped and her head cocked to one sided as she caught the first beats of a song playing.

“Oh, God!” she squealed. Bucky was just about to ask her what was going on but he was too late, she leaned towards Steve and gently grabbed his hand, turning his attention away from Wanda as she curled her hand round his.

“Stevie, listen.”

A big mischievous grin crossed Steve’s face when he heard the song and next thing he knew he was being dragged by Katie to the dance floor. Leaving Wanda slack jawed with frustration.

“What the fuck? Is he dancing?” Bucky asked Clint and Nat who were stood at the bar next to him, unable to keep his eyes from Katie and Steve dancing and laughing like crazy to I’ll be there for you by The Rembrandts.

“Yeah, they always dance to this, it’s like their song.” Clint answered before sipping from his beer bottle.

“Give him a minute, he will do his Joey.” Natasha told Bucky while keeping an eye on Wanda who had just sidled back into the booth and was now pouting and stabbing the bar with her cocktail umbrella. At that Steve launched into some kind of odd dance move, which he still manage to make look quite graceful “Oh, yep. There we go.”

“Unbelievable” Bucky mused shaking his head, happy to see his bestie cut loose. “She really brings out that kid from Brooklyn, doesn’t she?”

“You could say that.” Nat said with a side smile while Clint nodded in agreement. They all watched as one of Steve’s arms curled round Katie’s waist, his large hand splaying on her back as they continued to dance around to the upbeat music, Katie’s head tipped back in laughter and a huge grin spread across Steve’s face.

At that point Bucky heard Wanda snort and strut down the club to the restrooms bumping into people on her way.

“Ah leave her.” Natasha said with a sigh, draining her glass.

“So Rogers has two women fighting over him…” Peralta leaned back “Lucky bastard.” “He’s eyes for no one but Stark.” Bucky said, shrugging “So wouldn’t really call it a fight.” “Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t really want to get in a fight with Stark anyway…” Peralta nodded. “Damned she can be vicious.”

***** A few hours later they were all sat together in Tony’s private booth drinking champagne, except for Katie who had finished her drink and had gone dancing with Rosa and Gina, and Steve who had gone to the restroom.

"This bottle is empty.” Thor said shaking the bottle in the air.

“I’ll go fetch another one.” Tony said standing up ceremoniously.

“I don’t want that bubbly shit. Anyone in for some tequila shots?” Thor asked as he also stood up and went to the bar without waiting for an answer.

“Oh…my…God!” Natasha suddenly slurred nudging Clint who was beside her.

"This is better than we expected” Clint whispered, grinning.

“What? What’s happening” Bucky asked.

He looked at Natasha who didn’t answer but he followed her gaze only to spot a tall handsome brunette chatting with Peralta and Santiago.

“What is he doing here?”  Nat hissed to Clint

“Don’t know. Must be the buddy Peralta said he was meeting.“ Clint answered Nat.

"Who is he?” Bucky frowned.

“Storm” Wanda, who was nibbling a piece of lime, explained to Bucky “He’s a fireman and has the hots for Stark” she practically purred.

“Well, this is awkward.” Sam deadpanned.

“You know what? I’m gonna help Thor with the shots.” Wanda said to the group.

“Ok. I’m lost” Bucky said once Wanda was out of earshot.

“Phase 2, Barnes” Natasha’s eyes glinted “The plan was getting them drunk and leave them alone, wasn’t it? But, this is brilliant!” she clapped excitedly. “Steve’s gonna see him here, get all jealous and protective…”

“Ok, but someone needs to keep flash fire dude away from Stark until Captain Slow can make his move…” Sam warned looking as Steve was coming back from the restroom and was approaching the bar.

"Uh oh, too late” Bucky said moving his head towards Wanda who was talking to Johnny Storm and pointing at Katie’s direction before she gestured to their booth.

“Fuck.” Clint hissed.

“Should have seen that coming.” Natasha groaned.

“Can’t blame her, Witchy is only playing the cards she has left.” Clint chuckled.

“All right, Steve coming at your 9. Everybody play it cool. Let’s see how this unfolds.” Sam muttered.

It was only seconds after Steve had sat in the booth with another beer in his hands that Thor came carrying a tray with shots and a bottle of tequila, followed by Wanda and Johnny.

“Here, let me help you.” Wanda offered Thor.

“I told you I can handle this” he said placing the tray on the table “Fortunately, I am mighty.” he said casually tossing the bottle in the air and catching it expertly.

Bucky saw as Natasha gave a filthy look to Wanda who was now sitting between her and Steve.

“What? Wanda whispered.

"You know what.” Natasha muttered at her.

Steve’s eyes flickered up to the dark haired man and he did a double take. That was the Flash Fireman, the friend of Peralta’s that Katie had been talking to at the Christmas Party. He took a deep breath and felt his shoulders stiffen slightly as he looked around, spotting that Katie, Diaz and Gina were making their way over. He took a deep breath and his nostrils flared as Johnny blatantly looked Katie up and down as she made her way over.

“S’Up Fire Boy?” Diaz asked him “No kittens to rescue from a tree?”

“Off duty…” Johnny grinned “And stop pretending you’re not happy to see me Diaz.” “Yeah, that’s her happy face, just for clarity.” Gina nodded, folding her arms “Her angry face…well, no one who’s seen it has lived to tell the tale.”

There were a few chuckles from the table until Thor roared out that it was time for shots. Katie slid into the booth on the spare seat next to Johnny as Bucky and Steve both stood up to grab extra stools for Diaz and Gina. Once they were all seated Thor passed the shots around and Steve hastily slammed his down as he watched Katie leaning slightly into Johnny, the pair of them chatting. As Steve watched he held out his arm of his jacket and Katie smiled, reaching out to gently stroke it.

“You like it?” he asked looking at her “It’s a new material made by my sister, she’s an engineer.”  he said sliding an arm around Katie’s shoulder “It keeps the hot stuff hot and the cool stuff cool.”

“Yeah, can’t have your brain overheating, can we?” Steve jabbed at him, rolling his eyes.

Bucky chuckled at Steve’s comment and Katie tried to hide her smile sipping from her glass.

“I’m not wearing a hat.” Johnny frowned earning a withering look from Steve and Katie choked on her Martini. At that point there was no hiding the grin spreading across her face and Bucky saw her glance at Steve, probably to share another one of those knowing, inside smiles, but her expression slipped.  He looked over to see Wanda laugh at Steve’s joke and hold onto his left arm. And the Captain made no move to shrug her off. Instead, he turned into her, his arm moving only to drape round the back of the bench they were on.

Uh Oh.

“Are you ok, princess?” Bucky’s attention flicked back to Johnny who was looking at Katie. “Wanna dance?” he asked with his playful signature smile.

“Yeah, why not?” She said, shooting another glare at Steve. She stood up and flash fired dude slipped his arm round her, hand gripping at her hip as he steered her into the middle of the dancefloor

“I’m dancing too.” Natasha said standing up “And you’re all coming with me. This is a girl’s night after all…”she added dragging Wanda up out of the seat before she turned around and mouthed do something at Bucky.

Bucky looked at Clint and Sam for support, he wasn’t sure what it was that Natasha expected him to do. The situation was disastrous enough as it was.

The pretty blond waitress from the bar came to collect the tray and empty bottles scattered over the table and gave Steve an intense look.

"Want another drink or anything else, handsome? A dance maybe?”

“No thanks” Steve groaned. He stood up and simply said “Excuse me” before walking towards the bar.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked Bucky and Sam who were looking at her sympathetically.

“Don’t take it personally. He’s in love.” Bucky shrugged.

“Oh, so is he taken?” she asked apologetically.

“Not exactly…” Sam tried to explain.

“What? Is she blind or something?” the waitress said wiping the table with a rag.

“Something like that.” Clint scoffed.

Bucky sat back and tried to come up with a way to redirect the situation. Jealous and drunk Steve was not a good combination but now it was pointless trying to fix the disaster as he saw Steve perched on a stool by the bar, another beer in hand, looking at the dance floor like a wolf.

And then, it was almost like it was happening in slow motion. Wanda, who had slunk off the dancefloor made her way over to Steve where she draped herself, shamelessly over him. And before Bucky could even move to warn Steve, as he could see what was happening a mile off, she’d slipped her arms round his neck and pulled him down to kiss her.

Bucky let out a groan and he turned to the dancefloor to see Natasha stood there, hand over her mouth and she turned to look at him. He waved his hand over his throat furiously, in an attempt to get Natasha to sort it out but it was too late.  Bucky’s eyes flickered to Katie whose attention was fully on Steve and her face fell.

“You left Wanda unleashed!” Bucky practically yelled, exaggerating his words so Natasha could see what he was saying, as he pointed in the direction of Steve and Wanda at the bar.

“Abort phase two. This is a disaster.” Clint groaned. Meanwhile, Thor laughed loudly and clapped.

“Matchmakers of the year, ladies and gentlemen!” he said.

“Where you even here?” Clint asked visibly annoyed.

In all fairness to Steve, he hadn’t been expecting Wanda to make a move like that. It took a while for his drunken brain to catch up with what was going on, but when he finally did he gently caught Wanda on the hips and pushed her away.

“Wanda…” he shook his head “I’m sorry, you’re a great girl and everything but…”

He stood up and looked around, and then he felt his heart sink. Katie and the Fancy Fireman were heading for the exit, hand in hand. Bucky was also watching the two of them leave, and his attention turned to Steve and the utter look of devastation the Captain wore.  

Fuck.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld  @cobalt-gear  @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13  @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie  @navispalace @patzammit  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog  @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner  @ayamenimthiriel  @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @disneylovingal @madzmilllz  @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela  @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan​ @charmed-asylum​

[connorspiracy]

Seance In The Library || Connor & Leah

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Public Library PARTIES: @connorspiracy & @phoenixleah  SUMMARY: With the time for the second exorcism of Nadia/Cordelia looming closer, Connor goes looking for knowledge. Leah is happy to assist. 

Blanche had been fucking stabbed and Cordelia was still out there, and that knowledge filled Connor with even more extreme sense of urgency. Nadia had been practicing her possessions, so it was almost time to put things into practice. He knew he’d have another exorcist for help, but he still wanted to do his research. There had been so much going on recently; Bloody Mary, Adam’s full moon mania, Jasmine’s Larry Bob problem, that it was tough to keep up. It was his fault for not getting it right the first time. Blanche could have died, all because he’d messed up. Nadia was still floating around in ghost form somewhere, and that spiteful little poltergeist was taunting them on Nadia’s social media. They’d dug through every fucking book in Rio’s library and he still hadn’t found anything that would help with Cordelia. It was time to branch out. That was what brought Connor to the definitely-regular library, wandering around the occult section, probably looking like a right weirdo. It had probably been a good few minutes before he caught the eye of someone who looked like an employee. “Oh, hey,” he said, putting on his best charming smile, doing everything he could not to look like an out-of-place dodgy creep. “‘Scuse me, love,” he said, not to be demeaning, but just because it was how posh London boys spoke. “Do you have anything on exorcisms, or possession and stuff?” 

More often than not, when someone was wandering around the so-called ‘fiction’ occult section in White Crest Library, Leah found that they were looking for help with real, and often very urgent problems.  It was easy to tell apart those who had an obsession with all things weird and were looking for a good read,  and those who actually needed information, whether it was by body language, facial expression, or even something more subtle that she couldn’t put her finger on.  She was glad the library was there to help.  The problem was, it was usually hard for the average person to decipher between what was actually fiction in that section, and what was written by real, legitimate authors that could offer invaluable information.  It was for this reason that she usually hung just beyond the section whenever someone made their way there, ready and willing to offer help if ever the situation arose.  She smiled at the patron politely, a bit taken aback but intrigued by his accent.  

She licked her lips at his question, looking at the shelves they were both standing in front of.  “Oh, we have a ton on all of that”, she said, raising her eyebrows.  More than the average library, certainly.  “Some would say we have too much on that subject”, she teased, pulling out one of the books in front of them, scoffing at the pictures on the cover.  “These here are all pretty poorly written”, she commented, handing him the book in question.  “But if any of that stuff were real, and well, of course it’s not… But if it were, you’d probably find the more legitimate works over this way”, she said, leading him toward the shelves a bit to their right.  “Are you planning on possessing someone?  Or just getting into the nitty-gritty of our weird town and looking to read about the occult?”

Connor had a pretty good instinct for people, and he could tell upon meeting the young woman (Leah, according to her name tag) that she was keen to help. There was a certain brightness about her, a glimmer in her eye that spoke of curiosity and kindness. He felt himself smiling almost without meaning to. "A ton?" he repeated, chuckling. "Well, a ton is what I'm looking for." He couldn't help but smirk a little at her real-but-not-real description of this particular section, following her to what she called the more legitimate section. "Oh, it's definitely real. You know exactly what I'm looking for. Thank you." There was really no use in holding up pretenses when he was all over the internet. 

"Me? No, no, I'm not the possessor. I'm an exorcist. I'm looking for something a bit different, you see. Something that's probably a bit... weirder? It's less taking the wrong soul out of the body and more putting the right one back in. Does that make sense?" He realised how that sounded, holding up his hands and shaking his head. "Um, not necromancy. Shit. Jesus. No, there are no dead bodies involved, fortunately. Definitely possession. But more... if the exorcism yeeted the wrong person, and you have to put it back." 

This man definitely knew about the realities of White Crest, based on his reaction, but Leah wasn’t one to reveal her knowledge of them as well, especially not to a patron and a stranger.  He didn’t have to play along with her game of ignorance, but Leah fully intended on upholding it as long as realistically possible.  For now, she brushed off his words about her protest of reality.  Her eyes widened, not used to someone being so open about necromancy, of all things.  She was about to ask if he was trying to reanimate a corpse, when his elaboration made it clear that wasn’t exactly what he was talking about.  She laughed, surprised that he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.“Okay, not so simple, then”, she said, letting out a breath and trying to think.  “Is there a wrong soul inhabiting the body right now, though?  Because I think, if this were real, you’d still need a way to get that one out, no?” She worked while she talked, pulling books out of the shelves here and there as she got more ideas of what might help.  “What if you found a way to help the right soul back into their body by… teaching them how to possess?  If they were possessed in the first place, why not do to the wrong soul what was done to them?”

It struck Connor that perhaps he shouldn't have been so honest about Nadia's predicament, but how else was he going to get the help he needed? It wasn't like he was naming names. He made it a habit to almost never be dishonest about the supernatural, whether people wanted to know or not. "Not simple, no." He perused the shelves, flicking through the first book, page by page. "Wrong soul out, wrong one in. I was supposed to expel the other. I'm not sure what happened." The corners of his lips curved into a grin when she mentioned teaching Nadia how to possess. "You're not the first person that's had that thought. We're working on it. Just thought our lost soul could use all the help they can get." 

Leah let out a breath, watching the man carefully.  “I’m with you on that, the more preparedness you can get for a situation like this, the better.”  She placed the books she’d been piling on the table nearby with a thud, her face turning serious. “Are they a friend of yours, then?”  She’d read in the scribe journals about a similar situation many times- souls inhabiting bodies that weren’t their own, loved ones desperate to get the right soul back to where it belonged, but it wasn’t always easy- nor was it always successful.  “I’m sure you’re aware that what you’re trying to do is very dangerous”, she said, dropping the pretense she knew the man didn’t need for only a moment.  “I have some… loose information on the subject in the basement that might offer extra guidance, if you’re willing to wait for me to make some copies.” 

“The floating, bodiless spirit? I dunno if I’d call them a friend. Lots of people I know are friends with them though. I wanted to help.” He was probably sharing far too much information, but Connor rarely ever saw the need to lie. Either people accepted his words or didn’t, but he rarely sugar-coated them. “Dangerous, ha, yeah. You could say that.” The spirit trapped in Nadia’s body was a murderer. She was a poltergeist. Those factors alone were dangerous enough without adding exorcisms to the mix. “Oh, you have a basement?” Where they kept the good stuff, no doubt. He made a mental note of it. “That’d be sound. I can come and help, if you want?” 

“A friend of friends, then”, she said with a smile and a nod.  Leah could understand the sentiment of wanting to help someone, even if she hardly knew them.  She supposed that was why she enjoyed the job she had so much.  “Have you done this sort of double reverse exorcism before?”, she asked, curious.  The dude clearly knew what he was talking about, but something like this was almost unprecedented.  If something similar had happened in White Crest recently, she hadn’t heard about it.    Her expression turned serious when he asked about the basement, and she hoped he didn’t notice the way her body stiffened.  “A small, sparse basement, yes, to hold lose works that wouldn’t fit in any sections up here.  It’s off limits unless you’re a certified employee”, she explained shortly. “I’m sure you understand.  We all have protocols we need to follow.” 

"Yeah, friend of a friend." And those friends (especially that angry Kaden guy) would probably kick Connor’s ass if he didn't fix this. He tried to let his genuine interest in the conversation with the young woman overtake his fear of what would happen if this went wrong again. "I haven't. It's pretty exciting. If you ignore the potentially horrifying consequences of it going wrong," he said with a vague chuckle. "You don't seem to be acting like I'm fucking bonkers, by the way. I appreciate that. It's refreshing. White Crest Lifer?" Not that living here meant you had to believe in the truth about the town. He’d met far too many who would rather bury their head in the sand and not think about what they might get bitten by. Literally. 

Leah leaned against a wall as the man spoke, now fully fascinated at the prospect of what he was trying to do.  If it meant saving someone’s life and letting someone else’s soul pass on, she wanted to be as helpful as she could. “But you can’t not try”, she said, understanding.  “Not trying feels worse, somehow, than trying and failing.”  At his next words, she glanced around them, making sure to confirm that no one was in earshot of their conversation.  As a scribe, it felt like a betrayal to open up to a stranger about her awareness of the supernatural so willingly, but as a phoenix, it felt kind of invigorating. Her expression was soft as she answered.  “Sometimes it’s nice not to have to hold up appearances”, she said.  “I’ve lived here my whole life, and believe it or not, the library is where a lot of people turn to get help with this sort of thing.”  She looked at the book she’d laid out for him, knowing they wouldn’t be enough.  “How about I go get those copies for you, hmm?  I’d like to think they’ll be really useful.”  Without a second glance, she flashed him another smile.  As she quickened her pace toward the basement, she held the key in her hand firmly, ready for the familiar motion of unlocking the door that held so many of White Crests secrets underneath.

“Exactly,” Connor said, a little more serious than he’d been moments before. The happy-go-lucky casual conversation vibe could only stay at the forefront for so long. “I had to try the first time, even though it went wrong and my friend was upset with me for buggering it up. Now I feel even more motivated to make sure I get it right.” Connor returned Leah’s smile, grateful for her help. “I never keep up any appearances, ever,” he chuckled. “I literally have a whole YouTube channel talking about ghosts and exorcisms and stuff, so secrecy isn’t really my strength, but…” He looked at her with a small, sincere nod. “I really appreciate this, okay? I really think we’re gonna get it right this time.” He didn’t have a choice. Not succeeding was unthinkable. He wouldn’t fail Nadia again.

[twomanyideas]

The Search for the Supreme Scent - Chapter 3

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404​ with @x-thekid

AO3 | Ch 1 | Prev: Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Next: Ch 4

Chapter 3

“Hold your goddamned horses. I’m coming!” Natsu growled at the door as he slowly made his way down the stairs. He could smell Gray outside, but it did nothing to alleviate how pissed off he was at being woken up at the asscrack of dawn. That and the fact that he could tell that whatever brought his friend to his house wasn’t urgent as he didn’t smell any different than usual.

“What the hell do you want?!” Natsu snapped as he pulled the door open hard enough to shake the frame.

“Get ready, we’re going on a job,” Gray entered the house without waiting for an invitation and sat down on his couch, arms crossed over his chest.

“Come right in,” Natsu muttered in disbelief. He closed the door behind him and turned to face his rival.

“You couldn’t wait until the sun came out, or I dunno, I got to the guild?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Natsu took a deep breath, recognizing when Gray was fucking with him and refusing to rise to the bait even though he was still exhausted from the previous day’s events. “Is this a team job?”

“No, this is an us job,” Gray rolled his eyes for emphasis, “as in, Erza demanded we do it together.”

Natsu thought about this for a moment. That wasn’t so unusual, although it had been a while since Erza had felt the need to send them on one of her get along jobs.

“Why are you both being so loud?” Happy asked, flying down from the second floor and landing on the couch, his eyes still puffy with sleep.

“Sorry, buddy,” Natsu apologized, “It looks like we’re going on a job.”

“But it’s so early,” Happy whined, “can’t we go later?”

“It’s okay, Happy. You can stay home if you want,” Natsu assured him, “I’m sure the Ice Princess and I can handle whatever it is.”

“Ugh, are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me Flame Brain?”

“Point taken,” Gray grinned, lighting up his face in a most distracting manner.

Natsu stared for what felt like a second too long before massaging the back of his neck. “I guess I should go get ready then.”

He made his way back to his room, poking at his chest carefully to see how much his body had healed overnight. The claw wounds had mostly healed, but he could tell his ribs were still broken, although the pain was bearable. Even so, he hoped the job was nearby. Whether it was walking or a train ride, it was still going to put a strain on him.

Natsu grabbed his one-sleeved coat from his closet, not wanting to show his bandages to Gray or anyone else who might try to use it to their advantage. His pants and underwear were a little more challenging to put on, but he managed. A quick trip to the bathroom and he was ready.

To his surprise, Gray had prepared breakfast for all of them.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Natsu muttered, munching on the coffee, eggs, and toast his friend had set out for him.

“I think the words you’re looking for are: thank you,” Gray deadpanned.

Natsu ignored him, asking instead, “So, where are we going, and why so early?”

Gray sighed in a way that let him know that whatever the job was, it was something Gray considered beneath them. “We have to go to Boundary Forest to find some strong-smelling flowers Ichiya needs for his parfum experiments.”

Natsu groaned. He didn’t dislike Ichiya, although he did find him a bit strange. But surely there was no reason why they couldn’t have gone later.

“Are you sure this isn’t some sort of ploy by Erza to get me to see the old hag?” Natsu asked, well aware that Porlyusica lived in Boundary Forest. “Cause I gotta tell you, she’s only gonna be more pissed off if we wake her up.”

“Nah, I think she just doesn’t want to deal with Ichiya. You know how uncomfortable he makes her. ”

“That he does,” Natsu chuckled in agreement, “But finding a flower shouldn’t take long, so why did you come here so early?"

"To make sure you weren't running off with the other slayers again,” Gray replied, but Natsu felt like he wasn’t being entirely truthful.

He suddenly remembered his friend’s outburst at the guild the previous morning and wondered if it was related to that. He could feel the outrage building again at the idea that Gray, who had grown up at Fairy Tail like most of them, no longer felt comfortable in his home.

“If you’re done stuffing your face, we should get going,” Gray announced, sticking the dirty plates in the sink on top of the pile that already sat there and making no effort to clean them.

Natsu rolled his eyes at the action but didn’t comment, and after making sure Happy didn’t want to come, they left, promising to go fishing later.

0-0

Boundary Forest - an area of luscious woods and fields near the old Fairy Tail guild building.

The walk to Boundary Forest had been mostly silent, each seemingly caught up in their thoughts. It was a comfortable silence, which was unexpected as they hadn’t really had a chance to talk since Natsu had shown up at the Avatar headquarters looking for Gray a few months earlier.

The sun had finally risen over the mountains as they reached the forest, bringing the sounds of the birds and other woodland creatures with it. It was a place they knew well, having not only played there as kids but also traveled through it on their way to other jobs.

Natsu’s chest had begun to throb, making walking uncomfortable, so he decided to ask Gray for more information to keep his mind off it.

"So, what's this flower supposed to look like?" Natsu asked as he sniffed the air around them. He smelled plenty of flowers- Boundary Forest was full of them- and as he tried to catch a trace of this supposedly unique flower Ichiya wanted, he was also on the lookout for the scent of nearby monsters.

So far, they had only bumped into a few green flutterers, which were a type of medium-sized bird often seen near the trails. They could be aggressive, but once they’d had a taste of Natsu’s fire and Gray’s ice, they’d given them a wide berth. “Erza said they looked like daisies,” Gray answered, straying from the forest path they were walking on to inspect a patch of wildflowers a few feet away. Natsu frowned at him, having no idea what daisies looked like. He knew roses, cherry blossoms, and of course, magnolias, but that was where his flower knowledge ended.

“Remember those flowers Laki used to pull the petals from when we were younger?” Responding to Natsu’s blank expression, Gray offered a half-assed description. “White petals. Round, yellow center. They’re pretty.”

Natsu’s thoughts immediately went back to what Wendy had said the previous day.

Gray likes pretty things.

Did that mean he liked daisies? And by extension, whatever the flower they were looking for was called, too? Natsu looked around, eyeing all the different kinds of flowers he could spot, wondering if he should take Wendy’s advice and pick some to give to Gray once they were done with their job.

What had happened at Worth Woodsea had served to reinforce that he didn’t want to have any more regrets. They were guild wizards who spent their lives fighting monsters or dark guilds to earn jewels, and while it was a fun way to live most of the time, it was also dangerous.

He’d lived with these feelings long enough. It was one thing when he thought that Gray and Juvia were together, but now that he knew differently, he refused to wake up one morning only to find that it was too late.

“The ones we’re looking for should have a-” Gray scrunched up his nose as he spoke the characteristic words of Ichiya, “wonderful parfum.”

“If you say sniff sniff, I’ll deck you,” Natsu threatened playfully.

“You mean you’ll try,” Gray retorted, looking annoyingly unconcerned, “Anyhow, you’re the bloodhound. They all smell pretty much the same to me.”

Natsu couldn’t deny that was true, so he once again set about trying to find the mysterious flower. None of the wildflowers stood out, so they got back on the path, walking over the wooden bridge and edging ever closer to Porlyusica’s house.

The smells were much more pungent there, no doubt due to the herbs the old woman grew for her remedies. Natsu wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Erza’s gonna owe me for this.”

“I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you,” Gray advised, “She’s still plenty pissed at you.”

Natsu caught the first traces of something different in the air, strong enough to overpower the herbs. He stopped, focusing only on that scent and trying to pinpoint its location. Once he was reasonably sure where it was coming from, he couldn’t help but groan.

Of course, it had to be right by Porlyusica’s house!

“Did you find anything?”

“I think so,” Now that he’d detected it, he couldn’t smell anything else. It was that strong. “Are you telling me you can’t smell that?” Natsu asked, amazed as always by how dull the human sense of smell was.

Gray shook his head, “About the only thing I can smell is you.”

Natsu tried not to let that idea take hold, knowing it didn’t have the same meaning for Gray as it did for him. He led the way, eager to find the flowers and be done. Maybe find a spot to sit for a little bit so they could get a chance to talk, and he could rest before the long walk back. “I think I know where they are. The smell is coming from over there-” Natsu pointed to a pair of large rocks in a small clearing.

The flowers’ scent was so overwhelming now, Natsu almost felt dizzy by it. There was no doubt in his mind that these were the ones Ichiya had requested, so he wasted no more time in getting to them. He waded through the tall grass and the weeds, hearing Gray’s footsteps following close behind him when suddenly the ground below his feet began to rumble. The rocks started to move, and for a second, it appeared as if they were growing, but then Natsu realized what he’d thought were rocks were something else entirely.

He stopped in his tracks, and Gray bumped into him, aggravating the pain in his chest.

“What’s the big idea?” Gray complained, looking around Natsu to see the two massive red golems that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Oh.”

All four of them stood unmoving, and for the first time in his life, Natsu- who was always looking for a fight- hoped the monsters would just walk away. He held his breath, willing Gray to remain where he was, but the ice mage was already moving into his molding stance, and a sense of dread consumed Natsu as images of the previous day’s events flitted through his mind.

He saw the golems pump their fists in challenge and readied himself for a fight.

“Ice-Make: Shield!”

Natsu was astounded to find an ice shield materializing in front of him seconds before Gray cast his attack.

“Ice-Make: Ice Geyser!”

Natsu couldn’t see what was happening very well through the shield, but he heard the familiar sound of Gray’s ice colliding with the rocky surface of the golems’ bodies, and their angry roars in response to the attack.

“Fuck,” Gray muttered, and Natsu felt the dread grow inside him.

“What?”

“Ice-Make: Floor!”

Natsu stretched out his hand, melting the shield just in time to see the spell hit the two golems who, outside of being pissed, seemed utterly unaffected by Gray’s ice.

Any other day he would have been tempted to watch Gray figure out a solution as he mocked him for his lack of progress. But not today, not when Rogue’s cries were still so close.

“Fuck,” Natsu agreed, calling on his magic even as his chest reminded him this wasn’t one of his better ideas. His fire coated both his fists, and he peered at the monsters carefully, searching for a weakness he could exploit.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Gray managed to get out before both golems lunged at them with incredible speed.

Natsu heard Gray cast his Cold Excalibur but knew it would do nothing to protect him; it wasn’t that the golems were resistant to ice. It did not affect them whatsoever.

And with that knowledge, he was suddenly thrust into a wild panic. Wendy wasn’t there. If something happened to Gray and he couldn’t get him to her in time, which was likely given his broken ribs, he could lose him forever.

All rational thought left him, replaced by an all-encompassing rage he had no control over. Everything became simpler, and his senses sharpened even more than usual. There was only one thought coursing through his brain.

Protect

Natsu could feel his skin changing, hardening into scales all over his arms and face. Both the amount and level of power available to him increased exponentially. He immediately recognized it as something he’d only managed a few times before, but this was only the second time he’d done so without external aid.

He had entered Dragon Force. The only other time it had happened this way, Gray had also been in mortal danger.

Natsu wasted no time casting his first spell - “Crimson Lotus Exploding Lightning Blade!”

The words rang in the air as he charged at the golems, launching attack after attack until they were reduced to nothing but rubble at his feet. As soon as the threat was eliminated, Natsu collapsed where he stood. The last thing he heard before his vision faded to black was Gray screaming out his name.

A/N: The picture was made using the game’s Photo Mode which is really fun!

[flutteringphalanges]

Summary: It is public knowledge that Zoe Van Helsing is the last of her blood line. Not to mention that, in a sense, Count Dracula is too. However, after an unexpected night of passion, both their lives dramatically change when Zoe becomes pregnant. Two unconventional parents, one extraordinary pregnancy. What could go wrong?

Rating: M

Pairings: Zoe Van Helsing/Dracula implied Agatha/Dracula

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N:  Thank you to all who have left kudos/comments/reviews and even have taken the time to read this story thus far! I'm having loads of fun writing this one and I'm hoping you are enjoying it too! Okay, enough of my blabber, here's the next chapter! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

                                             Chapter Four

Twelve weeks. Two plums. At a development standpoint, that was the current size of each of the babies. It was a weird thought, comparing unborn fetuses to food. And yet, there was something slightly entertaining about it. The imagery. Zoe found herself in the market one day, the fruit section no less, picking up one and studying it carefully. She snorted to herself and placed a few in a basket. Plums. How peculiar.

"Well, are you going to grant me passage?"

Dracula stared intently at the scientist, an eyebrow cocked as he waited for a response. Zoe merely met his gaze dumbfounded until the realization of his unanticipated arrival set in. She frowned, one hand already gripping the door knob. Who the hell did he think he was? Had he honestly thought she'd willingly grant him passage as if they were friends?

"Why are you here?"

"I told you," he replied simply. "I came here to discuss an important matter with you. Well," once more his eyes flashed down to her stomach. A smile crept across his features that didn't settle right with Zoe. "A few things, to be frank."

"I think we've chatted more than enough," the scientist stated, moving to close the door. Dracula inserted the toe of his shoe just before she could, leaving a visible crack between them. "As much as you'd like me to, I assure you, I am not letting you come in."

The vampire seemed unfazed by her insistence, standing stoic in her line of vision. It wasn't until she got a good proper look at him that she noticed a folded piece of paper clutched in his right hand. Dracula caught on to her attention and, eyes flickering from her to his object, causally lifted the parchment up for a better view.

"What's that?" Zoe asked hesitantly, uncertain if she really wanted to know.

"A letter," the man replied. "I thought it would be appropriate to bring."

"A letter," the scientist repeated, frowning softly. "Since I've blocked you from texting me, you've resorted to physically mailing your harassment? Or hand-delivering it I should say?"

"Of course not, that would be dreadfully predictable," Dracula snorted, rolling his eyes. "No, this is something more than that. Far more important than a silly text or a friendly postcard." He paused, one of his sharp nails tracing the edge of the document. "It's a little something I had written up with Frank-you remember him, yes? Frank Renfield? My lawyer?"

As if someone hit the thermostat, the air suddenly felt colder. Uneasy settled in the pit of Zoe's stomach, and from the expression on Dracula's face, she knew he could tell he was getting to her. She remained silent, fingers still gripping the knob.

"Though I cannot be certain, I have a feeling that those who do know of your pregnancy, do not know who the father is." The count began to unfold the paper, mindlessly smoothing out the creases. "This is just a copy, don't worry," he assured her as if she cared. "Anyway, who knows and who doesn't, it's important...for now, at least. What is important is that I, just as you do, have every right to have access to my children." He held out the paper towards Zoe before adding, "...go on, take it, it won't bite you."

Reluctantly, the woman took the slip from the vampire. Her eyes scanned every word, every detail typed out before her. Arrangements. Custody. Child support. Zoe's heart began to pound against her rib cage to the point where it nearly hurt. Fury began to fester deep within her as she immediately snapped her head up to glare at Dracula.

"You're threatening me with a custody battle?!" She nearly hissed, clenching the document in her fist. "Is this some kind of morbid joke?"

"On the contrary," he assured her, tone serious. "I am very adamant about this, Zoe. I will have access to my children, even if I do have to go through legal measures." Dracula straightened up, clearly not taken by the woman's rage. "I thought that perhaps we could go about this with a civil prospective, you and I. Before it has to come to a point like that."

"You aren't taking them," Zoe said firmly, her free hand touching her stomach protectively. "They're mine."

"And I don't want to," Dracula rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "That's why I wish to talk. Only talk. Get everything out in the open so we can figure things out," his lips curled into a smirk. "As a family."

Family. He sure as hell was NOT her family. If looks could kill, there would be a million stakes embedded in the centuries old vampire's chest. The nerve. Christ, she had never despised someone more in her life. But as she stood there watching him, knowing deep down she had no other choice-hate it as she may-it had to be done. For the sake of her twins.

"You may…" she struggled, chewing on her bottom lip as she forced the next words. "You may enter."

Her grasp on the door handle loosened as Dracula offered a genuine smile before striding past her and into the main room. Out of the corner of her eye, Zoe could see Agatha's spirit giving her a disapproving look. Fantastic. Not only was she stuck dealing with the vampire, but now her great, great aunt's spirit had made its presence known too.

"Go away," she muttered under her breath, Agatha's stare reproachful. "I don't need your judgement right now."

"I'm sorry?" Dracula inquired, turning on his heels. "Did you say something?"

"No," Zoe exhaled tiredly, shooting a quick glare at her dead relative. "You can go sit at the table. I'd offer you some wine but…"

"But neither of us drink," he finished pleasantly. "At least wine, and in your condition, I believe the consumption of alcohol is frowned upon?"

"You've been reading up on pregnancy."

"A lot," he remarked. "It's lovely how much information the internet offers. Plus books on the subject are plentiful," his eyes flickered around the room. "If you'd like to borrow one, I suppose I can lend a few."

"That won't be necessary," Zoe exclaimed, somewhat irritated by the fact that he acted as if he cared, or implied she lacked the knowledge. "I can research on my own, thank you."

She eased herself down onto a chair, one that was as far away from the vampire as possible. So much for the quiet, uneventful night she had planned for. She could sense that Agatha was watching them, but apparition remained quiet.

"So," Dracula began, breaking the silence. "I suppose I should first say that I'm glad you're willing to meet on your own terms." Zoe opened her mouth, but he continued before she could get a word in. "Honestly, Zoe, for a scientist, I'm surprised how quickly you've jumped to conclusion-particularly about me. I am, after all, a myth. Legend. But facts are muddled. How are you to trust who someone truly is without getting to know them personally?"

"Your charismatic attitude only goes so far after I've literally witnessed you biting off one of my colleague's thumbs and murdering an innocent man," the scientist frowned, folding her arms over her chest. "Not to mention validated testimonies of your actions. I think it's very clear what kind of person-monster, you are."

"And yet, here we are, sitting about to discuss two offspring that share our same genetic makeup," Dracula smiled. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Your point?"

"Well, one might say we have more in common than you think," he paused, eyes narrowing just the slightest. "How are you feeling, by the way? I read by the end of your first trimester your biggest symptoms are fatigue and possibly morning sickness."

"You being here alone is exhausting," Zoe mumbled, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "So what exactly do I need to do to get you off my back?"

"As I said before, all I want from you, at the moment, is to become better acquainted with me," the vampire said simply. "Perhaps with the hope you'll see that the intentions involving our children are not sinister. Say...I dunno, how does a date sound?"

If Zoe had been drinking water, she would've spit it out at his words. Had he really just suggested what she thought he did? A date? The scientist stared at the man blankly, unsure of how to respond to such a preposterous invitation. First he threatened to take custody of her children and now he wanted to go on a romantic getaway? Surely she was sleeping. This had to be a cruel nightmare.

"Well?"

"Jumping into a swimming pool of broken glass sounds more inviting," she answered, looking appalled. "All of that sea water must've gotten into your head for you to even fathom that I have an inkling of a romantic feeling towards you."

"No one said it couldn't be platonic."

"We aren't friends," Zoe emphasized. "And we won't ever be."

"You've surely inherited more from Agatha than just your looks," the vampire chuckled. "You even speak like her."

His words might've sparked some hilarity if the nun hadn't currently been hovering over the other woman's shoulder. At least the ghost hadn't attempted to possess her. Agatha had some dignity in that. Zoe massaged her temples, all of this just inflicted her ever growing exhaustion. She could rescind his invitation, but Dracula wasn't one to give up easily. Especially if he'd gone to such lengths to threaten getting legally involved in the twins' lives.

"What are you suggesting?" The scientist muttered, clearly worn down to the last stray. "What will make you leave me alone?"

"Friday night, say...around nine? You come over to my humble abode and I cook you something and we have a nice chit-chat," Dracula answered. "I'm a rather good cook, all things considered."

"I have a doctor's appointment at eight…" she saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes. Of course he knew.

"I'll retrieve you at half past seven so we'll make it to the clinic on time and afterwards, we can get you something to eat," he smiled. "Anything certain you've been craving recently?"

"Your head on a platter," Zoe muttered.

"So something meat based," Dracula nodded, completely unfazed by her sarcasm. "I'll do some searching on the internet and find something to fit your palate."

"Wonderful," she rolled her eyes. "I'll be looking forward to it with bated breath."

The vampire grinned, rising from his spot at the table. The scientist did the same, a feeling of relief overcoming her when she noted he was making his way to the front door. At least now maybe she could get some peace.

"It was lovely to finally speak with you," the vampire stated. "Oh, and since I believe we'll be in contact more, I'd much appreciate you unblocking my number. It will make things easier," a glint of mischief sparkled in his eyes. "For the both of us."

Zoe merely glowered at him as she pushed the door open suddenly wishing the sun was out and the heat was past boiling point. Dracula stepped past the threshold, still sporting that ridiculous smirk as his eyes met hers.

"I'll be seeing you, Zoe," he smiled. "And I look forward…"

She slammed the door in his face before he could finish. Running a hand through her hair, the scientist sighed heavily. Her eyes fell to the crumpled piece of paper that lay abandoned on the floor. She was screwed. Royally. And something needed to be done about it. Hell would freeze over before she'd let him have access to her children. But until she figured something out, she'd have to play along. Whatever it took, she wouldn't let him win. Exhaling, she touched the apex of her stomach. She'd have the last laugh.

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

Jonah Magnus begrudgingly becomes a trans ally after putting himself in the wrong body “as a joke” and suffering

Concept: Dramatic Bastard Jonah “Hubris” Magnus decides to put his eyeballs in a female body for one of these bodyhops because he “thought it’d be fun”  (and also perhaps make that snippy young librarian Gertrude stop commenting on the fact that the Institute has never had a female Head and that she feels it’s high time they got their heads out of the Dark Ages and stopped ignoring half the population) and it BACKFIRES HORRIBLY 

(long post under the cut)

For one thing, half of his (actual, unstated) reasoning behind the switch was to spice up his third marriage with Peter, but Peter is Too Gay to Function(TM) and just takes one look at the new body and immediately books a year-long voyage to Siberia and leaves the country without so much as touching Jonah. 

And then Jonah has to deal with having a female body to take care of and absolutely no idea how one works because despite serving the Watcher he is, also, Too Gay to Function(TM) and has not prioritized information on how to handle having a coochie. He didn’t think it would be a big deal. He was wrong.

See, up until now Jonah Magnus has always picked young, twink-ish bodies that have at least a superficial resemblance to the young Jonah Magnus, and has assumed that being able to adjust to the slight differences just fine and even enjoying the changes means that he’s immune to dysphoria. 

Jonah Magnus is convinced that gender dysphoria is bullshit and that he’ll like a female body just fine because he wore drag once and had a fun time. Jonah Magnus has not thought this through. Jonah Magnus has not considered that “wearing drag as a man who enjoys being a man but also likes dresses” is actually different from “actually not being a man or comfortable in a man’s body”. 

Jonah Magnus figures out the difference very quickly. 

Jonah Magnus, King of Denial, writes it off as “needing to adjust to the new body” until he catches himself wishing he had that Leitner that makes you disappear bc he doesn’t want to be seen, or to have to see himself, in this body and he just wants it to disappear. 

The first barista at Jonah’s favorite coffee shop to call him “ma’am” gets to watch a grown woman visibly flinch at being properly addressed and then rush out of the store. The barista then violently remembers something embarrassing that happened to her in high school, and spends the next week suffering from nightmares about her worst memories. 

A man makes the mistake of catcalling some academic-looking librarian dame. She gives him a freezing look and suddenly he’s having violent flashbacks to all his worst experiences at once. He falls down on the street and has a nosebleed and eventually has to be picked up by the police and brought to a mental hospital because he’s raving like a lunatic. 

Jonah “Cannot Admit I Made a Mistake” Magnus, still trying to convince himself this isn’t that bad actually, catches himself making a mental schedule for showering As Little As Socially Acceptable so he doesn’t have to see himself naked. Jonah Magnus is usually fastidiously clean, and can’t stand the feel of going more than two days without a shower. Jonah Magnus suddenly prefers that to seeing himself naked any more than necessary. Jonah Magnus finally admits that he made a mistake. Jonah Magnus is starting to understand what the words “gender dysphoria” and also “male privilege” mean and he’s hating every moment of it. 

And then he forgets to take the birth control that this body was on and its period comes back with a vengeance and he does something he never does and calls Peter, screaming about how he’s LITERALLY DYING and Peter is like “you know women have periods right.” 

“WHAT” 

“Yeah they bleed every month” 

“They WHAT?? EVERY MONTH???” 

“...Jonah you serve the Eye. How do you not know basic human biology” 

Jonah “Too Proud to Admit that the Information on Coochie is Buried Under Years and Years of Occult Secrets and Sexy Robert Smirke Moments” Magnus: “I KNOW!! I JUST--IT’S COMPLETELY IRRATIONAL THAT IT HURTS THIS MUCH” 

“Yes” 

“THIS CAN’T BE NORMAL” 

“Yes it can” 

“I’M DYING AND ALSO I’M STAINING ALL MY SHEETS THIS IS HORRIBLE” 

“All of these are things I’ve heard my sisters say.” 

“NO IT--wait really” 

“They talked way too much. Really weren’t suited for Forsaken. I was so glad when they left. Partly because I was a squeamish little boy who really didn’t want to hear about their girl puberty issues any more” 

“Hang on, I’m NOT dying?” 

“Probably not. Do you have any painkillers? Get in a hot bath and wait it out.” 

“HOW LONG???” 

“Euuughgjs I dunno maybe like a week? Ask a woman” 

“A WEEK?? WHAT?? I’M GOING TO DIE PETER I CAN’T ENDURE THIS FOR A WEEK” 

“You.... didn’t think about this BEFORE you stole the body?” 

“Y-YES OF COURSE I DID” 

“Jonah Magnus, world’s greatest occultist and scholar, forgot to do his research?” 

“THAT’S NOT IT, I JUST DIDN’T THINK IT WOULD BE THIS BAD,,, PETER YOU’RE LYING TO ME PETER PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE LYING I CAN’T TAKE A WEEK OF THIS PETER” 

“I said I don’t know. A week sounds right but I could be totally wrong. Ask a woman.” 

“I DON’T KNOW ANY WOMEN THAT I CAN ASK AWKWARD QUESTIONS OF” 

“Go to the library” 

“I CAN’T I’M IN PAIN AND BLEEDING ALL OVER EVERYTHING” 

“Oh, yeah, there should be stuff for that. You’re in, uh, the former body’s apartment right? She’s probably got like, what are they called? Feminine pads?” 

“WHAT? PETER I’M AN ADULT I’M NOT WEARING A DIAPER” 

“Okay, have fun getting the bloodstains out of everything you own.” 

“HOW DO WOMEN LIVE LIKE THIS” 

“I don’t know. Rather impressive really.” 

“FUCK” 

He caves and goes to young Gertrude and is like “listen if you tell anyone this I’ll destroy your life but I’m actually an ancient bodyhopping bastard and this is my first time in a female body and I’m in hell please help me” and that’s how this Gertrude finds out who Jonah Magnus is

Elias Bouchard gets snagged for the next transfer because, yeah he’s kind of a weird pick for next Head of the Institute and people might talk but Jonah is Desperate at this point and Elias more or less fits his MO as far as physical traits go at least 

Peter is so relieved to have A Husband when he gets back that he doesn’t even complain about Elias picking a blond just because he knows Peter doesn’t like it. And for once Elias didn’t even do it on purpose, he was just in a hurry to get out of the Hell Dysphoria Body and took the first option he saw. 

The formerly-plagued-by-nightmares barista at Jonah’s favorite coffee shop stops seeing the increasingly depressed-looking woman who’d been coming in, but now there’s a nice young who smiles like the sun when she calls him Sir and it’s such a nice smile that she feels a deep sense of warmth and contentment and only thinks good thoughts for the rest of the day. She falls asleep content in the knowledge that all her friends love and appreciate her and that she makes the best coffee in London and for the next week she has pleasant, restful dreams that she can’t remember but that she wakes up from smiling. 

Elias Bouchard quietly starts offering trans-inclusive health benefits to employees of the Magnus Institute. Martin Blackwood, Broke Trans Guy In Need of a Job, instantaneously appears on the doorstep. 

[1stunseeliefaelass]

Darksiders Arthurian Tales Revisited

Chapter 26: Hauntings Ancient and New

"To be honest...I want to protect the ones I care about. And my Mama calls our home a tavern, but it's really a brothel. My Mama and the girls mean a lot to me, they were there for me when no one else was. Seeing the abuse some of those girls endured....just made me want to protect them. Mi familia." Arn tells her after some thought.

"That's a very honorable virtue you have. I hope you get to see your family again." Anna replies taking his hand.

Arn feels a warmth he's been missing for a long while. Course then his stomach interrupts that for him. He turns bright red as Anna giggles at the massive growl that comes from it. Luckily their food comes on down soon enough. Anna begins savoring her meal of lamb chops happily, whilst Arn enjoys a juicy steak inside broth. Arn's eyes widen as he savors the first bite, before he begins devouring it quickly. He stops halfway into it though as Anna is holding back the urge to giggle again. That and he can sense a possible boot about to be thrown his way. So he cleans up his manners and begins eating slowly like Anna is doing. He then chooses to pay for the meal to be a gentleman, since he has money from his arena winnings. Anna is thankful but decides to pay for a dessert for both of them to share. A pretty hefty ice cream sundae clearly made for two. Anna gets all giddy each time their spoons come close. Arn then gets an idea and asks if she'd like a bite of the ice cream flavor on his side. Anna nods accepting it, and lights up with delight as he spoon feeds her the bite. Her ears flitting to and fro to Arn's own delight. He's then surprised by Anna doing the same for him. His tail pops out and wags a little bit as he accepts the bite, then her smile makes his ears flit as hers are doing. Anna sees his tail is out and decides to reveal hers too, feeling comfortable enough around him. Oddly enough, it's got a cream colored tip that looks a bit like a heart. Arn can't help but comment on it.

"That is kinda cute."

Blushing a little Anna tells him, "Really? I used to get bullied for it."

"At least you have some color. Mine is just black.", Arn says raising his tail to show her.

"The guys who teased me probably would've liked you. They were all for solid colors, and compared me to a fox."

"I likely would've made them eat their words. Plenty of girls I knew had pretty fur colors." Arn states with conviction.

"Really? Shame we only met today. Would've enjoyed such a sweet protector."

Arn chuckles before saying, "And I probably would've liked having such a beauty for company, a f-friend even...if n-not more."

Anna giggles and blushes hard, "You really think I'm pretty?"

"Yes. Y-you're pretty. B-beautiful even!" Arn quickly shouts in extreme nervousness before holding his mouth shut.

Anna is surprised by that proclamation of course, "Oh wow....that's...gotta be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Arn flattens his ears and tucks his tail as he gets a bit more embarrassed, "I'm sure there's been other people who t-t-t-thought so."

"Actually aside from my parents and family, not really. Although.....if you're saying that....does it mean that you like.....that I'm your....eh uhm......you know your....c-c-crush I guess?" Anna inquires shyly as her own ears flatten too.

He is silent for a while before he finally replies, "I guess so."

Nergal suddenly comes up asking, "Do you wish to have a bit chardonnay, brandy, or bourbon? Or maybe a nice shot of gin? Or maybe you two lovebirds....wait sorry no... would you two adolescents like some absinthe?"

All of sudden Esmie pops in, "Oh no you don't amigo, get over here."

"I'm sorry but I'm assisting." Nergal explains before she jumps up and grabs him by the ear.

As the two begin bickering a bit, Anna glances at Arn before motioning away from the area. She then finally whispers to him as he doesn't get it.

"Let's get out of here."

Arn gets a moment of realization before quickly nodding and vacating with her right away. Esmie doesn't notice they're gone until Nergal chuckles a bit to himself.

"Wait....where did they go?"

"My work here is done." Nergal states before turning to walk off with Esmie still on his ear.

"Usted hijo de puta!" Esmie shouts before smacking him across the face, to no reaction whatsoever from him.

"Hmhmhmhm....That won't do much good. Now let's get going so that the couple can enjoy themselves. And also....kindly remove yourself from my ear. I'm not into rabbit foot bling." Nergal simply tells her.

"Oh calla ojete." Esmie tells him annoyed before letting go finally.

Nergal just laughs at her, "Question? Do you have anyone in your life? Aside from your son, any other man in your life?"

"I do not. As a businesswoman, I lack the time most other ladies have. It would benefit Arn to have a male presence in his life sure, but the regular bounty hunters from the local guild would likely do just fine. They're all good men, the lot of them. Although that Sygr fellow is.....actually nevermind. Forget I said anything." Esmie explains.

"So are you into giants yourself?"

"Shut. It." Esmie tells him a bit miffed.

"Already pushing buttons? Hmm, usually it takes longer. Perhaps what I said wasn't appropriate then. Maybe Sygr just reminds you of someone. You did say your friend, Arn's Father Argus, was a demon didn't you?"

"Watch it."

"Just how close were you two?" Nergal asks her, knowing full well what's coming.

Esmie about goes into her full form, but just as quickly holds back. Placing her hands on a nearby bench as she takes a few deep breaths. Finally she looks back at Nergal when she's absolutely sure she won't explode, "It's none of your business, not a story for you. Now leave it be."

"What kind of nightmare happened with you? Do tell, I'm rather interested. You tell, I tell. Simple enough?" Nergal questions her sitting down on that very bench.

"Argus and I were always friends. It never went further.....although I sometimes wish it did. I enjoyed his company, his personality, and even his appearance. But I knew better than to be a homewrecker. So when Argus began speaking of Clawdette, I let him have her. I never once got in their way, even viewed Clawdette as an older sister of sorts. She was tough, no nonsense, and while somewhat feral she was still caring. I was never jealous of her, not once. Their deaths both hit me harder than I care to admit. I kept it hidden from Arn as he grew, but I couldn't hold it together forever. Not all the time. You've no idea how many times I drank myself stupid over them. Or how much worse it got after Arn was taken away from me. I try to be strong, only to end up back in the pit."

"What's that like? The pit? I've never been in it, at least to my current knowledge."

"When I say pit, I mean depression. That feeling of just pure emptiness. Like nothing has meaning. That feeling that keeps you up at night, the feeling you get that ensures you don't want to leave your bed in the morning. You just become so indifferent to almost everything and everyone. You stop paying attention to what's around you. You wallow in your own self pity, pain, suffering, or whatever may have brought you to that ever swallowing pit of despair."

"Well then, I guess I was born in this pit." Nergal responds simply.

Esmie gets a shocked expression and immediately questions, "How is that even possible? To be born into perpetual depression?"

"Try being born without the capability to express emotions properly. With them being distant or none existent at times. Them being overbearing almost difficult to handle. To have a need that you know will never be fulfilled. Knowing someone loves you, but you cannot love them back. But you must try, or else your purpose is no longer necessary in your eyes. Or seeking someone's approval, that you'll never get. I dunno if that's a pit but, it somewhat fits your description."

"Sounds like a mix of that and borderline sociopathy. Course I could just not know you well enough yet. You said you knew someone loves you at least, even if loving them is damn near impossible. So do you perhaps have the ability to express things like compassion or empathy?", Esmie inquires calmly.

"Based on what I can remember, compassion is an interesting emotion. It's....it's hard to describe. To feel remorse for something that is insignificant or is that incorrect?"

"You're way off. Remorse is to put it simply, feeling bad for something you have done. Compassion is just being kind and the ability to be that way. Giving kindness for the sake of it and for the sake of others. Sometimes even yourself to feel good for the day." Esmie explains.

"Ah I see....I have found I can be kind. At least according to the woman I share a bed with. If you count tree roots as a bed anyway." Nergal states before noticing Esmie's weird expression, "She's a Dryad."

"Oh ok, now I get it. But Dryads can read others extremely well, better than most demons I daresay. If she says you're kind, then surely she's correct. Does she tell you you're anything else? That you have certain things to you that you may not notice?"

"She tells I'm often cold and distant, and yet warm and close. It's very strange. I'm a very messed up individual by your standards. I need to go find some food of my own now though. Why don't you think upon the Sygr situation, I'm going to a tavern and probably going to make a man question his drinking problems." Nergal explains before walking off.

Esmie is unsure of what to make of the situation but decides to consider how being with Sygr might pan out for her. Where as Morgen and Death have finally returned for the books she requested. As expected, there was precious little. In fact the 'book' itself, was incredibly small and shaped like a heptagon with a seven pointed star etched on the front cover for a design. The cover was simply a darkened leather with pages that looked extremely old. Even the language it was written in baffled Morgen.

"I'm sorry miss, but this is all I could find. I'd have told you it's contents if I could read the language. But it's not one I know." The elder pixie librarian told her.

"It's quite alright. I half expected there'd be nothing. Oh well, we'll just bring these back to our carriage for now. Thank you...oh and of course here's money to replace their vacant spaces."

Death then picks up the heavy box of spellbooks and other books in general and heads out to drop it off at the carriage. Morgen stays behind to pay for it all of course. Then she joins Death outside.

"Sorry to make you do that heavy lifting. Hopefully you're healed enough after every...."

"Believe me I'm fine."

Morgen then looks back towards the old path and shudders, "I severely doubt those guards are though."

"Yeah but we likely would've had to kill them ourselves if they weren't hollow statues now. Let's just be glad we were spared an unneeded fight. So I'm guessing the language of the book is unknown to you as well?"

"I've looked through it, and I can't say I recall it's meaning. I feel like I should know what it's saying and yet I don't." Morgen expresses a bit discouraged.

Death pauses as he's tying the box down and gently places a hand under her chin. He then lifts her face up, "Hey now, don't get discouraged. Perhaps it's part of your memories, and you just haven't reached that part yet. So what if you don't recall? Memory is rarely perfect, sometimes it's even wrong all together. Now...where is everyone?"

"Thank you Death. And I don't know." Morgen replies looking around a bit confused before continuing, "Maybe we could just rest in the carriage for now? Wait until everyone is back."

"Or perhaps we could actually do something else around the village for a bit. A simple walk perhaps?" Death suggests offering his arm.

Morgen snickered softly but wrapped her arm in his, "Look at you being all open to enjoying social activities Mr. Antisocial."

"Said Ms. Social Butterfly, who wanted to rest in the carriage for the rest of the day." Death points out.

Morgen rolls her eyes as Death chuckles a bit. They walk past the tavern Nergal's in and notice a man looking very much drained. Then a few more are seen as they pass it by. They decide to avoid the tavern for now and focus on enjoying the walk together. Course they do stop for a bit of dinner as well. Morgen mostly tells Death a few of the nicer stories about her childhood as he listens intently. Course she does eventually coax him into telling a few stories himself. Such as any about how he met his friends and a few regarding his family members. Ultimately the two enjoy each other's company.

Arn and Anna meanwhile had decided to go see the secret place Anna mentioned before. After following an ancient looking pathway with ivy and other plants covering it, Arn saw it. A ruined castle like fortress that had clearly seen a battle once. One that was a massacre from what he could gather as he observed the skeletal remains of knights around him. What he didn't expect, was that he only saw knights of Uther's kingdom. No other combatants' bodies lay around there. Either none of the enemy died, they were each other's enemies for some reason, or something different happened. Arn briefly thought he could hear the sounds of the men's battle cries and deaths in the air around him.

Anna's voice suddenly pierced through to him, "Hey Arn, you ok over there? You kinda spaced out for a second."

"Yeah I'm fine.", Arn replied before focusing on her and avoiding the skeletons.

The two then began to enter the ruins proper. Arn found the fact that there were more skeletons inside to be VERY disconcerting. Course Anna came up to him and held his hand.

"It's ok, they're not gonna come to life I promise. They never have. Yeah they're a little scary at night but they're just remains...right?" Anna told him with a bit of nervousness.

"Well let's not try to disturb them. I get the feeling they didn't die peacefully.", Arn says even wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Anna blushes after a slight jump but quickly tells him, "Yeah uhm...let's not disturb them. The main building is my favorite place, it's got lots of interesting things in there."

"Right." Arn responds as she guides him to the main building.

The two then enter and the foyer holds many hallways that have been ravaged by both fires and time. Anna only leads him down the main one though, as it's the least cluttered. It leads to massive double doors and the two find ancient stairs behind them. They manage to hold up surprisingly, but Arn is still nervous about it as they go up. Finally at the top, Anna pulls him by the hand to a specific room. On the door of it are many intricate designs pertaining to the moon, night sky, and stars. The name plaque that was once on it was broken off at the intial, an M. Inside the room was a gorgeous bed that looked WAY too pristine for such an derelict place. In fact, most of the room looked to be in mostly good condition. Aside from occasional broken small items across the floor. Arn also sees a portrait that's torn in a specific place, lifting the torn part up, he sees an eerily familiar face.

Anna notes his reaction and comes over, "Something wrong?"

Arn shakes his head and drops the torn piece, "Nothing...just an old painting."

"Right. Well I guess the white haired lady is very pretty huh? I always wonder who she was. She always seems so happy in that portrait with the other knights. Do you think she had a good life? Or do you perhaps think more cynically than me?"

"I don't know...but she does look very happy." Arn states simply.

He does smirk a bit however. Knowing that despite everything, Morgen still has days when she smiles just as brightly.

Anna of course picks up a nearby book and hugs it, "This is her journal, at least I think it is. I know you're not supposed to read them, but....it's been such an inspiration for me. I wish I could've met her. Everyone always says she was a kind woman when I ask them. That she was always willing to help those who needed her. While not as good in fight as her fellow knights, she'd use her magic to defend and heal all she could."

Arn thinks for a minute before saying, "You speak of her like she was your role model."

"She is in a way. Do you wanna see her armor? It's still all nice and shiny. It's in this walk in closet over here." Anna asks as she hurries over to the doors.

Arn follows her and is in awe with her when he sees it, "Looks like it never saw a day of wear."

He feels however in the back of his mind that something is amiss, but can't quite place it. Instead he looks upon the set in more awe. The designs are as intricate as they come, which makes sense given that Morgen is a princess. The theme surprised him however, white and silvery blue for the colors with unicorn styled ornaments on it. Hanging off the pauldrons were tiny white unicorn horns on thin chains. The helm of sorts had a short unicorn horn attached to the front, the horn itself being cresent shaped. Aside from those decals, were moon and night designs mixed with scenes of unicorns that looked straight out of vintage paintings. Little do he or Anna know however, that a certain spirit has been stirred by their presence. Anna however keeps Arn busy so they remain oblivious as he approaches the room slowly.

"Her armor is just so beautiful, I'll bet when she wore it she was even more beautiful as a result."

"I'm sure she would...Anna...I have something to say..." Arn starts to say when he suddenly notices something in the armor, a reflection behind them of a figure. He suddenly shouts, "Get Behind Me!", drawing his long knife and putting Anna behind him to face the figure.

They find a ghostly knight before them who asks them two simple questions, "Why have you come? What do you want with this place?"

"What's it to you?", Arn responds making sure Anna is safely behind him.

"I once lived in these halls. I served the lady whose room and closet you're currently standing in. I defend this place even in death from intruders who would do harm here. So I will ask once more, and once only. WHY HAVE YOU COME AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?" The knight booms down at them.

Arn growls before he finally answers, "We didn't mean any harm. We were just looking around, nothing was taken."

"You will leave then, now. I see no reason for you to remain in this place of death. Nor do I see why you..." The knight explains before pointing at Anna, "...need to keep coming back here after tonight."

Anna protests of course, "Uh please....I've never taken anything. I always leaves things where they belong."

"Yet you continue to VIOLATE the privacy of my fair lady. Something she valued highly above most things aside from her duties to this realm."

"She inspires me! I never meant any harm! I love her story and if anything looked too personal I wouldn't read it. I always skipped those more personal bits." Anna pleads.

"Your intent may not have been bad. But I cannot let this slight go. I can only forgive it if you leave and never return. There's nothing here for the living, not anymore."

Arn however has his own two gilt to give, "What do you know of your lady? What she has become?"

"Who are you to ask me that? A child of wolf and....something else. Something....older. Far older than me."

Arn grits his teeth, "Watch what you say ghost."

"I have no obligation to you. I'm already dead so your threats mean nothing boy. Besides, even a young wolf from the arena is no match for the dead. Especially a knight who has disciplined himself in combat when compared to a savage gladiator."

"I WARNED YOU!" Arn shouts before charging the ghost.

The knight sighs before simply grabbing him by his head. With this act he slams Arn into the ground once before releasing him, "That will be your only warning child. Leave now while I'm still in a decent mood. I won't harm you further so long as you follow my instructions."

Arn gets up and growls before going to charge again. Anna however grabs his arm, "Stop it. Let's just go.....even if it means....I can't come back anymore..."

Arn notes her voice cracks and sees her beginning to cry. He relents, but tells the knight, "This is not over. You will see reason yet."

"And yet you failed to until just now? Believe me. There's nothing left to this folly. Just leave." The knight replies simply.

Anna then leads Arn away to leave the area, whilst the spirit remains in the room. His lonely vigil ever present, even in his demise.

Arn hugs Anna as they walk away outside, "I'm so sorry Anna. It's probably my fault he's being so harsh to you. But I promise I'll make sure you can keep going back there whenever you wish."

"How....how can you promise that?" Anna inquires as she sobs.

"Let's just say, I know somebody he'll have to listen to." Arn tells her.

"About what he said....the knight. What was he talking about?"

"Uhm....well you know I'm Werewolf. But the other part of me....it's something even scarier. I don't want to discuss it, but a lot of people hate the race my Father came from."

Anna looks at him sadly, "Oh. That sounds pretty shitty of them."

"People have good reasons to hate the race. But not everyone in the race was or is a bad person. At least Mama says my Father certainly was always better than his kin usually were."

Anna finds herself confused, but ultimately continues to question him, "What about the other part? Where he compared you to a gladiator?"

"I was in.......the arena...until recently. I was captured as a child....and forced to fight most of my life. Fighting at an early age has its privilege....and its price." Arn tells her reluctantly.

Anna looks horrified, which Arn expected, what he wasn't expecting is why she was horrified, "How much have you suffered?"

"More than I care to describe Anna. Anyway, can we...change the subject at least? Please? I really, REALLY don't like talking about this. Lot of bad memories from that place still haunt me." Arn implores of her.

"Oh of course. Sorry to bring that up."

"It's ok. You deserved to know. I kinda owed you for getting us kicked out of there." Arn replies.

"I don't blame you Arn. It wasn't your fault. I should've known I wouldn't be welcome." Anna tells him softly as her tears slowly begin to dry.

"Now let's go talk to that person I think will talk some sense into him."

Esmie soon spots the two and immediately hurries to Arn, "What happened niño? Why is your nose bloody?"

"I'm fine Mama, just a grumpy old ghost. I need to talk to Morgen about him in fact. Where is she?"

"On a walk with Death. They're actually nearly back from what I can see. Why don't you head back to the carriage. I suspect we'll be leaving soo.."

"Mama please, just a bit longer. Besides, it may take a while for Morgen to help us out." Arn protests to her.

Esmie sighs at him, "And what could she possibly need to help you with niño?"

"The ghost that apparently fucked up my nose. He's guarding the place we were at and is being an ass. Especially in regards to Anna. I promised I'd help her continue to be able to keep going back to her favorite place. It's really important to her Mama. Please."

Esmie thinks silently for a moment before hearing Death question her, "Why is it that Arn looks like he was hit recently?"

"Arn actually has something to tell you and Morgen. It involves the thing that did this to him." Esmie explains simply, to Arn's relief.

"Really? Well out with it then, what happened?" Death asks.

"A ghost is haunting the ruins Anna brought me to. He was pissed off and has banished Anna from ever going back. But the ruins should have significance to Miss Morgen, and the ghost knight claims he served her. So I figure maybe he'll listen to reason if Morgen talks to him." Arn tells him.

"Was he vengeful?"

"I don't think so. He only bashed me into the ground once, and I.....kinda...was a.....a dick....I deserved it." Arn admits rubbing his neck.

Death facepalms, "What did you do?"

"Charged at him because he provoked me."

He then sighs, "Of course you did."

Morgen inquires of Arn however, "You said he was a knight, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Pray tell, why banish Anna when it was you who attacked?" Morgen asks calmly.

Anna then timidly steps forward, "I sometimes g-go into an old room there....it has a journal t-t-that I'm guessing is yours.....I'm so sorry for reading it. It just inspired me so much."

Morgen pulls the young girl into a hug as she begins crying, "Easy there my dear. Granted I'd not recommend reading anymore journals. But I do not mind that you read mine. In fact, I'm glad those dismal pages inspired you in some way. Is this really why he's denying further entrance?"

Anna can only nod and sniffles a bit. Causing Morgen to gently stroke her head in a Motherly way. Death can tell by the look in her eye, and on her face, that somebody is getting a stern talking to now.

"You're actually going to talk to that spirit?" Death questions her.

"Yes. For her sake and the sake of others who may go there. The only beings I don't want there, are anyone that would steal from it or cause harm to the place. We're going."

Death sighs to himself, "I suppose I better come with you then. Just in case either his spirit, or someone else's has a vengeful moment."

Morgen nods and lets Death follow her. They come along the path and Death soon begins to feel the agony of many dead beings. Clearly a battle had taken place and he sees just how right he is when he and Morgen reach the fort. Morgen walks around the bodies a bit lost looking as Death starts hearing the voices of those who died in the battle. Course he knows he wouldn't normally hear it unless the area was haunted. He then finally goes over to Morgen as she's examining a body.

"Are you alright?"

"I knew these people...all of them....they fought...and....d-died...for me that day..." Morgen tells him with a crack in her tone.

Death helps her up from the ground before gently holding her, "You don't have to be here Morgen. I'm sure Arn and the girl will understand given your connection to the tragedy here."

"It was MORE than just a tragedy. This was a MASSACRE. All because I was spending more of my time here than at home. Away from HIM." Morgen says with a bit of anger mixed into the sadness.

"You say that as if you believe it's..."

"It WAS MY FAULT!" Morgen shouts at him.

Death remains calm though, knowing full well how overwhelming a haunting can be on someone within it's radius. Mentally, physically, and even emotionally. He gently strokes Morgen's head and tells her, "This wasn't your fault. These men chose to defend you, because you were WORTH saving. Because you ARE worth saving."

Morgen looks up at him in surprise and goes to reply before someone else speaks up, "He is right my lady. I knew the risks, we all did. Even those who survived this horror knew. Only very few of us did. I and those who remain upon these grounds never doubted you. The Reaper speaks true, you are and always were worth saving to all of us."

The two look upon the ghostly knight and Morgen asks him, "Tell me...how long have you remained here? How long has it been since we last spoke....Sir Alphonse?"

"Not yet long enough for you to have forgotten me it seems." Alphonse tells her simply.

"Your voice is as distinct as I recall it to be. As are your manners with guests it seems."

"You're speaking of the boy and girl from earlier?"

"Yes, I am. I can understand you wanting to defend me and any of my things that remain here. But I cannot let you bully or harm people. Especially those under my protection. Besides, the girl Anna doesn't strike me as ill intended. She can keep coming here if she so chooses as I see it. Do I make myself clear on that?" Morgen states authoritatively.

"Transparently your highness. Forgive my transgression, I only meant to keep your secrets as just that, secrets. I remember how important privacy was to you."

Morgen only sighs, "I forgive you, but I will say that I'm at least trying to work on telling people things that need to be said."

"Good. Perhaps you'd like to see what remains here? And take what you were unable to?" Alphonse asks her.

"I suppose I can. Assuming either of us can carry it all."

"As I lived to serve you, I can aid you in this as well my fair lady. No offense to your companion of course." Alphonse states.

"Pardon?" Death questions him.

"I would assume she chose you for companionship given the way you held her a moment ago. Not to mention the way you spoke to her."

"I....uh.....fair enough." Death says awkwardly.

"It seems I'm right to assume then. Given your reaction. Anyway, just this way, and be mindful. The place is old enough to be falling apart because of more than just unrepaired, burnt wood."

"Hmm, well lead on." Death replies with Morgen following alongside him.

Morgen is amazed at how well kept her old room appears aside from a few fallen objects, "How is this room so pristine?"

"A certain....'pest' who keeps coming back. And no I don't speak of the girl."

"There have been other visitors?" Death inquires.

"Yes only a few though. Usually the villagers will leave flowers on occasion to commemorate all we did for them. It's...always a good sight everytime they hold their memorial festival too. So I don't bother the villagers usually. I only got cross with Anna because she was reading your journal and learning secrets of yours. However, there is one man I keep tryng to turn away. He always comes by every few nights hoping I'll miss him. Occasionally he does escape my notice, with some small 'trinket' or two as well."

"That explains why you were so quick to judge Anna. Even so, would I know this person?" Morgen inquires.

"You would. One of your 'suitors' from some years back."

Morgen facepalms next, "I THOUGHT I made it VERY clear as to why I called things off between us."

Death then looks at her shocked, "Wait let me get this straight, you have an ex?"

"Yes. I had hoped he got it through his head though."

"Clearly not if he's sneaking in here and making off with your property." Death expresses with a bit of sarcasm to his tone.

Morgen shakes her head in annoyance before walking out of the room for a moment. Course she hears something that annoys her even more once she's out the door. With her eye twitching, Morgen seeks out the source of the noise. Only to find a cloaked figure coming through a window down the hall.

"Aleyn, what are you doing?"

The figure freezes a bit before turning around slowly, "Morgen? Is that you?"

"Who else would I be Aleyn?"

"I don't know that ghost that hates my guts?"

"Gee I wonder why he would hate you. There a reason you keep coming here to take little things I own?"

"You never came back until now. I suspected you never would after what happened. I had hoped you wouldn't either." Aleyn tells her before freezing again.

"Excuse me?"

"Look Morgen maybe we could talk about it more in a place that isn't haunted by an angry ghost?"

Morgen eyes him suspiciously for a moment, but finally tells him, "Fine. But you're helping bring what's left of my things here to my carriage. And if you say a SINGLE WORD against my current companion, you'll be walking home instead of 'talking privately'."

Aleyn laughed nervously, "Right....heheh...wait you've moved on?"

"I have. What of it?"

"Oh eh...nothing....something to talk about in our private talk later."

Morgen gets suspicious of him all the more but lets him follow her. When he and Death see each other, Death gives a judgmental stare whilst Aleyn gulps.

"Ha-have you come to take his soul?" Aleyn asks nervously pointing at Alphonse.

Alphonse facepalms, "Can I kill him now?"

"No, he's useful for now. Besides I can't afford to make anymore enemies. Having Uther's ire is bad enough." Morgen says.

"So it's true? You ran away from home again? Is it also true that you took Arthur as well?"

Morgen nearly defends herself but Death speaks up, "Her Uncle got her and Arthur out whilst I was rescued by Barrcus. A far better Father to her than Uther ever will be. And given you seem to have sympathy for Uther, does that make me the better man of the two of us?"

"Watch your tongue you son of a whore! You don't know her like I do!"

"Says the man who probably has her underwear tucked away in his bedroom, among other little things of Morgen's. Stalker much?" Death says sarcastically.

"How DARE you? I would NEVER do something so uncouth as to take a woman's undergarments."

"Then what did you take? It had to have been small enough for your shrimpy arms to carry." Death inquires smirking a bit.

Aleyn growls before saying, "That's none of your business."

"Maybe not but it's certainly mine." Morgen tells him firmly.

"Ah....uhhhh....right....well your perfume...some of your make-up that you rarely ever wore....I NEVER WORE IT MYSELF!" Aleyn quickly replies nervously.

"Uh huh. What else?"

"I actually found the wedding dress you would've worn to our wedding and...."

"OK HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! You are NOT about to tell us you do some fucked up role-playing involving that dress are you?" Death asks sounding concerned.

"NO! Now if you DON'T MIND I shall explain. I just keep it around my home as I figure you probably won't want it. Or if you ever did, I'd have it in pristine condition for you." Aleyn admits.

"Aleyn, you've no reason to keep it. Sell it or give it away. I never liked that dress anyway. Uther picked it out and it just....didn't suit me."

"You looked like a goddess in it."

"A goddess about to raped by Zeus himself maybe." Morgen retorts sarcastically.

Death actually laughs and questions them both, "Just what did this dress look like? I must know now. Just to sate my curiosity."

"Are you sure Horseman? I remember that eyesore way too well, personally I'd rather go through my death all over again than see Morgen walk down the aisle with that HORRIBLE 'dress'." Alphonse states firmly.

Morgen reluctantly shows him with her memories and Death laughs even more, "Hahahaha! I didn't think you could refine sexuality.....Hahahahahahahaha! Seriously seeing that dress reminds me of The Great Gatsby!"

Morgen snickers at that, "Come to think of it, I think it was around the twenties when Aleyn and Uther found that dress." She can only laugh as Death nearly hits the floor.

Even Alphonse laughs with them before Aleyn defensively asks Death, "Well then BARBARIAN, what would YOU have her wear? What wedding dress could you see her in?"

"Technically it's bad luck..huff haaaah...to see one's bride before the wedding...huuuuuuh ahhhh...so I can't really imagine it...now can I?" Death says sarcastically as he catches his breath.

"Cut the sarcasm and just answer damn you!"

"Fine then if you insist that much ya creep." Death tells him a bit annoyed before answering, "If I must give an opinion, sure I could see her in a strapless. But honestly a silvery blue would absolutely make her pop with beauty. She's called the Moon Witch is she not, why not make her rival the moon itself on such an occasion? It would definitely give the saying 'I love you to the moon and back' quite the new meaning I'd say."

Morgen's eyes light up at Death's words and she shyly inquires, "So does that mean you...?"

"Yes."

"I didn't even fini..."

"You didn't need to. I've heard similar questions before. Trust me, I know what you were about to ask. You wanted to know if what I said means I find you as beautiful as the moon, if not more so. Am I correct?"

Morgen blushes, "As always, you're perceptive."

"Heheh..It seems I've been lacking in that department with the romance side of things though lately. If anything I say things by accident." Death admits rubbing his neck with a chuckle.

Aleyn only groaned before muttering, "At least I actually tried and KNEW what I was saying."

Death growls briefly in annoyance before saying, "At least I can learn. The question is can you?"

"If you two are quite done measuring each other's dicks, the lady will likely need help removing her things from here." Alphonse told them both in equal annoyance.

He then grabs them both by their heads and tosses them into the room, "There, now they can do it themselves."

"Gladly, once we have a list." Death expresses simply as he gets up.

Morgen comes into the room to make a list onto a crystal. She only grabs one thing from inside the room, a tiny ornate chest. She then hands the crystal to the gentlemen to collect everything. Death naturally tries to be civil about it so they can be quick about it. Only for Aleyn to volunteer to carry everything.

"Look I'm done with the whole being stupid can you just...NOT?! Like please...THINK."

"I'm not doing anything but volunteering my help." Aleyn protests.

"Genius, she gave us an inventory crystal with a list on it, to put the stuff into it. It's really not that complicated. You don't have to do any heavy lifting. You're not impressing..."

"Just SHUSH. I can handle this, I WILL handle this in fact. Now what's the first thing?"

Death sighs shaking his head, "The contents of that chest there. Again you don't have to carry...."

"Shut up damn it! I said I'll handle this."

"Ok, fine. Have fun with that. I'm going to do the practical thing in the meantime. Let me know when you're done being a moron."

"Excuse me young fellow..."

"Y-young? EhEH...ehAH! Your stupidity is obviously showing itself." Death tells him sarcastically yet again.

Aleyn grumbles to himself as he tries lifting the chest, or dragging it. Death meanwhile goes about to room to collect what he can. He starts with a few small things around the room, then moves onto the wardrobe. He collects everything in there with ease whilst using the crystal's magic. Course he does pause a moment to observe her armor set.

"I have to ask...why?" Death inquires of Morgen after coming back out from the wardrobe.

Morgen notices him pointing and comes over to see what it is this time. When realizing it's her old armor she's looks at him with her eye twitching ever so slightly, "And what exactly is wrong with it?"

Death, sensing this probably should've been saved for later cautiously responds with, "I just want to know what was going on while this was being made. It looks fine, but it's....so ornate. It looks like it belongs more in ceremonies than it does on the fields of battle."

"I am a mage more than a swordswoman admittedly."

"STILL. That's....a LOT of detail for a set used in battle. Even for a mage. Usually mages want armor that isn't heavy. I mean look at me, I don't wear heavy plate very often, if ever. I don't even wear chest plates usually. The most armor I have is my kilts, which occasionally come with plate. Either way, the way I fight and cast spells requires that I'm able to move. So I need to accommodate myself by using armor that gives me more mobility. Though I wouldn't recommend not wearing anything up top. I only do so because I can get away with it through my healing ability." Death tells her before chuckling a bit towards the end.

"Bare in mind that ONE I am a Princess, and TWO, that Uther was the among those who wanted to see my design ideas BEFORE it was ever made. You can probably imagine some things got added in."

"Right. Anyway I know a place that makes far better armor for combat and for mages. We'll have to go there later. After all this madness. For now shall I keep letting that one dig his own grave or shall I just put the chest in the crystal?" Death states.

"Please do get it into the crystal. Before he passes out due to lack of oxygen."

"Heh, may be a little late for that. His brain already lacks a little bit of it." Death says laughing a bit before Morgen's slight glare shuts him up. "Oh come on I was just kidding."

[dylinski]

Watch Me Bleed (2/?)

Warnings: Angst, LOTS OF LANGUAGE, fluff, alcohol, drunk, slow burn

Relationships: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 2379

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

A/N: This one is kind of boring, sorry. The next one is fucking worth it though, I promise. ;)

Chapter 2

Both you and Stan sat there, passing the bottle of bourbon back and forth, waiting for Irene to arrive. About forty-five minutes had gone by when you both hear the door to the cabin slam open. Being slightly drunk, neither you nor Stan seemed too concerned. Irene came into the room, eyes scowling Stan. He looked to the woman and spread his arms out wide, “The ‘Queen B’ has arrived.” He shouts jubilantly. Irene is obviously pissed.

“Are you drunk, Stan?” She screeched at the man.

“Uh oh. Someone’s in trouble.” You sang, but your comment was not welcomed as they both shot you a look. “I’m just gonna go…” You trailed off as you pointed towards the door and started to get up.

Irene stepped towards you and pushed you back into your seat. “You. Stay.” Shit. She’s using one word sentences which was a very bad sign. You looked down to your feet as your eyes widened and you pulled your lips in. You were pretty much the toddler who got caught in this scenario. While Stan and Irene were going at it with each other, you paid no attention to their words, putting all your strength into keeping your mouth shut. You weren’t a good drunk. No filters. “Y/N!” You were caught off guard as Irene shouted your name to get your attention. You struggled to concentrate, stuck in your own little world, but you managed.

“That’s me.” You slurred your words and Irene noticed.

“You’re drunk too!? God damn it!” You shrugged your shoulders at your friend. “What the fuck happened with Rapp today?” You shrugged again, shaking your head. Your lids started feeling heavy. You’re pretty sure you looked just as drunk as you felt at this point.

“I dunno. I got there few minutes for Stan. Tell me.” The alcohol was definitely making it into your system now. Even you barely understood what you said. You expressed the confusion and Irene mirrored it.

“Great. A drunk who can’t hold her liquor and a drunk with self-control issues.” She threw her hands up and looked to the heavens as if she were asking for answers. “Stan, go lay down on the couch and sleep it off. Y/N, sleep it off in your office. I’ll come back in the morning. And the two of you better have your shit together.” With that, the angry lady stormed out. Stan had no intention of sleeping it off yet, and grabbed a second bottle. He wasn’t as nearly hammered as you were. You guess when you drink like an alcoholic every day for twenty years, you build up some tolerance. He offered you some, but you held up a hand and waved him off. You bid him goodnight and followed Irene’s instructions to sleep it off in your office.

You stubble down the steps, almost falling twice, but made your way to the office in one piece. Not even thinking to close the door behind you, you flopped onto the examination table. You had one leg hanging off the edge and your arm slung across your face. Letting out a sigh, you started to relax some. That didn’t last long. You slid off the table in a jerky motion, but catching yourself with your arms on the edge, when you were startled by a knock. You’re pretty sure a few obscenities escaped as you fell. “Jesus Christ. You scared me shitless.” You looked up to see a tall, muscular man leaning on the door frame. He was chuckling at your current state, but thanks to the liquid courage, you didn't care and smiled back. “Oh hey. It’s you.” You noticed he had a homemade sling on his right arm. It looked like it was from an old tshirt. “Aaaaawww. You listened to me.” You couldn’t help but beam at him, eyes full of appreciation. He laughed, a sound you could get used to, and started towards you. He squatted down next to you and helped you up with his left side. He smelled of lavender and woods. As he raised you, you slipped and fell into him as he caught you. Leaning against him, you looked up to his whisky eyes that were usually dark and full of pain. Your face relaxed as you examined his features, taking in his beauty. He raised you up, and you assisted, pushing off his chest and balancing on your feet. “So, um. What can I do you? FOR YOU. I meant do FOR you.” He scoffed and blushed, but it was nothing compared to the fire burning in your cheeks.

“My arm was aching. I was wondering if I could get something for the pain.” He held his arm as he spoke, as if he were protecting it.

“I have the stuffs for you.” You turned to go to the medicine cabinet and tripped on your feet. Mitch leaned in to grab you, but thankfully you caught yourself on the table in front of you. “I miiiiiiiight be a little drunk.” You said as you looked at him. He smiled a tight smile with raised eyebrows that spoke ‘I know’ as he nodded his head in agreement. “I probably shouldn’t medicine right now.” You sat down in the chair at your desk. He walked over next to you and rested his ass against the desk.

“I noticed.” You just kept smiling at him, happy that he was happy. Although he never spoke a word to you before today, you felt like you knew him better than any of the other recruits. He rested his hand on your shoulder and a calmness washed over you, almost sobering you up. You cocked your head at him in curiosity.

“Why do your eyes hurt?” You asked innocently. You realized you were still slightly intoxicated and had zero filters. “Shit.” Covering your mouth you gasped, just as surprised at your question as he was. Despite your lack of proper English, he understood what you meant and his eyes shifted back to a dark chestnut. Just like that, his smile melted away and his posture stiffened. He looked straight ahead into the empty, looking like he was worlds away. You placed your hand on his thigh and he shook his head, returning to you. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid question.”

“It’s okay. And it wasn’t. It was a good question, I’m just not ready to answer it.” You nodded, acknowledging his vulnerability in that moment, but that was all he could handle. He stood up, rustled the hair on top of your head and shot you a quick grin as he turned and left. When he was out of earshot, you groaned in embarrassment and let your head fall onto your arms on the desk. You rested your head there as you thought about the man and what could have hurt him so badly. It’s not like you were being nosy or intrusive. You genuinely wanted to know so that you could understand him and maybe even try to help him feel better. What can you say? You’re a doctor and all you want to do is fix people. Fix him.

------

You woke up around 6:30AM and felt like your head was going to explode. The migraine echoed in your skull, making the room pulsate. You got up and opened the medicine cabinet. Shit . The memories of last night played back in your mind. Starting with the drinking with Stan, then getting reamed by Irene, coming down here to crash, then Mitch and the shitshow that was. You pulled some painkillers from the cabinet and found your spare outfit in the closet. After changing, you washed your face and brushed your hair, attempting to look like you weren’t hungover. You decided to explore the grounds for the first time and fine Mitch to give him the meds.

You left the warm and cozy cabin, greeted by a brisk and cold world. The sun was still just above the horizon, giving off a low light. You went down to the barn where everyone would be having breakfast. You found a table had been erected in the center of the large open area where the men were chatting and chowing down. Mitch was on one end of the table, surrounded by the recruits who couldn’t stop talking about his victory over Victor. The latter was sitting and sulking alone on the opposite end of the table. Mitch saw you and stood up, ignoring the others and walked over to you, standing in the doorway. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the sling anymore, which made sense if you think about it. He didn’t want to show weakness or injury in front of the others, especially Victor. He may take it as an opportunity to get his revenge. You were thankful for the year you spent in the psychology department, it came in handy when assessing these guys. Most of them were pretty fucked up.

“What’s up?” He kept his voice low, as to not draw attention from the others. They were too engrossed in their own conversations to care though.

“Oh. Um. I brought you some painkillers. For your arm.” You held of the bottle, offering it to him as you mentally scolded yourself. No shit, Sherlock. Of course he knows they’re for his arm. He raised his eyebrow, but gave you a brief smile and nodded as he accepted the bottle.

“Thanks.” He shoved it in his pocket and headed back to the table before you could say anything else. Feeling insecure now, you turned and hurried back to the house. You couldn’t help but let a groan escape when you saw the large black SUV sitting outside. You sulked up the stairs to the main door and took in a deep breath before you entered. The moment the door cracked, screams and shouts escaped. If you weren’t awake before, you sure as fuck are now.

Irene was the first to notice you entered the room, “Nice of you to join us.” She said mockingly. “Have a seat.” Even though both of them were standing, the room was still spinning, so you listened and sat at the table as mom and dad continued to fight. After arguing about being drunk last night, they finally settled and sat down to discuss the whole reason for Irene’s visit. “Stan tells me that you got there before him, so you saw more of what happened.”

“Not very much. I was only there a minute or two before him. Rapp had Victor in some choke-hold position thing with his legs. His nose was already broken. That’s when Stan showed up.” You had little knowledge of combat or any type of military training, so that was the best you could describe it.

Irene immediately turned to Stan, “You didn’t tell me he broke his nose.” Stan threw his arms up and shrugged his shoulders, immune to her shots.

“Victor probably fractured Mitch’s arm and sprained his shoulder.” You added. Irene gave you a look that read, ‘Why are you talking’ . You bowed your head and allowed the adults to continue. They were arguing over if Mitch should stay or not. Irene wanted him there, claiming he was the best recruit they had seen in years. Stan wanted him gone, telling her he was a shitshow and he wasn’t here to babysit. His biggest argument was that they only had a few rules, one of them being that you don’t beat up other recruits.

“Well Victor isn’t a recruit, Stan.”

“Rapp doesn't know that.” Stan stood firm in his opinions and fought tooth and nail until Irene pulled out the bigs guns after she had finally had enough and not gained any ground with him.

“Well Stan, your opinion doesn’t matter in all of this honestly.”

“And why’s that?”

“This comes from above me. The director wants Rapp here. He agrees that Rapp is the best we’ve seen for a long time and we need him for this to work.” A look of shock fell over your face as she mentioned the director and Stan mirrored your expression. Director Stansfield was basically in charge of the entirety of the CIA. He was one of the people who created Orion, the others being Stan and Irene’s father before he died. For liability reasons, Stansfield put Irene in charge of Orion, but every once in a while he would poke his head out and check up on the program. You only knew this much because you had been a part of the program for the last five years and been friends with Irene for just as many. She had to vent to someone, and why not the doctor.

The reason she found and recruited you was for your intelligence. You graduated high school at 15 and had your PhD by the time you were 21. That’s when they snatched you up. Getting that kind of degree in such a short amount of time was impossible, but somehow you did it, and it caught the eye of the government. When it came to life skills and people, you were a bumbling idiot. Medicine is what you knew and what you loved. You were always thankful to Irene because you had terrible bedside manner and they didn’t care about that here.

Stan concede the argument with nothing more than a nod, and Irene was lucky she got that much. She stood up, saying a couple more things to Stan before she said her goodbyes and left. Stan was in no mood for company, so you left too and returned to the sanctuary of your office. You realized you smelled just as bad as you felt and wanted to take a shower, but didn't feel like driving back to your cabin. You remembered there was a building by the barn that had lockers and showers. All the recruits were training, so it would be empty this early. You raided the supplies in the house and found a generic body wash, shampoo and a towel. Grabbed your second spare outfit, making a mental note to replace both since they were the only ones, and headed down to the barn to wash away the last 16 hours.

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[chain-unchained]

August 28 (Moonlight Jellies)

“C’monnn Shane, get the lead out of your butt!” Jas’s voice was filled with excitement as she turned around to look back at her uncle, bouncing up and down on the heels of her feet as she waited impatiently for him to catch up. “Jeez, you’re soooo slow!”

“Squirt, I only have one speed and it’s this.” Shane was grinning all the same; it was cute how excited Jas was for the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. It was one of those festivals that when you described it to someone, didn’t sound that exciting. But oddly enough, actually experiencing it was something almost indescribable. It was like the valley’s farewell to summer and hello to fall, since by the time the festival came around, the temperatures usually dropped, rain became more frequent, and the flora began the transition from leafy greens to warm reds and oranges.

This year, he could feel his stomach doing somersaults with each step he took towards the beach. Marnie’s suggestion to him was still very much fresh in his mind, and he’d spent the entire day arguing with himself inside his head whether or not he should go through with the idea. He still didn’t know which answer was the right one. Maybe there was no right answer. Part of him wondered if he should just do what the characters in Jas’ favorite stories did and ‘follow his heart’, since it always seemed to work out well for them.

The festival was always held late, usually starting at 10PM but sometimes earlier, depending on how quickly the daylight faded. There was no actual dancing done; it was a bit of a misnomer, to be honest. Every year, the moonlight jellyfish would pass by Pelican Town on their way through the Gem Sea to who knows where. Nobody knew exactly when it was discovered, but the jellies were attracted to light, and so everyone would send out little paper boats with candles in them to attract the jellies closer. The jellyfish themselves emitted an ethereal sort of glow, which was why the festival was deemed one of the more ‘romantic’ ones held in town. More than a few couples had gotten together over the years on that day.

As expected, the beach was already filled with the other townsfolk by the time Shane and Jas got there; Marnie had already left quite some time before them, saying that she wanted to help Lewis with the last minute preparations. It was pretty common knowledge in town that the two had a thing for one another, but there was an unspoken rule that everyone followed about not mentioning it. “Alright squirt, let’s go find Marnie and get a spot before all the good ones get taken.”

“So, you excited to see the jellies?” Abigail asked Ashe, as they, Sebastian and Sam all stood together at the end of the pier. “I’m excited, and I get to see them every year.”

“Hm?” Ashe had been lost in thought for the past few minutes, completely zoned out to the conversation the three had been having without him; he hadn’t even realized that Sam and Seb were still taking turns drawing on his new cast, he was so out of it. “Oh, um… yeah, I’m looking forward to it~ I’ve heard they’re beautiful.”

“They sure are.” Sam shared a grin with Sebastian as he passed the sharpie back to him. They’d started a game of tic-tac-toe with the cast as the paper to pass the time until the jellies arrive. “Boy, you must really have Shane on the brain tonight. You’re so out of it.”

His comment made Ashe’s face turn a brilliant crimson, and the three of them laughed at the predictable reaction. “H-How did you know?”

“You’re so obvious.” Sebastian lightly flicked his forehead before digging his cigarettes out of his pants pocket; there was just enough of a chill in the air that night that everyone had traded their shorts in for pants, except for Ashe, who had traded his shortalls for proper overalls, and Linus, who was used to the less extreme temperature changes and was wearing the same spotted tunic as ever. “Something needs to happen with you two. We can feel the sexual tension between you from across town.”

“I dunno, I think it’s cute how they’re playing hard to get with each other.” Abigail laughed at the look on Ashe’s face. “You’re both crushing so hard for one another~ My RP group and I already ship you guys.”

“I still can’t believe you ship people in real life.” Sebastian stuck a cigarette in his mouth as he just shook his head at her. “That’s just… no. Stop that.”

Abigail responded by sticking her tongue out at him with a ‘try and make me’ grin; out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shane and Jas strolling onto the beach. “Oh. Look who’s here, Ashe~” She teased, lightly nudging Ashe with her elbow to get his attention. “This could be your big chance.”

Glancing over to see if she was telling the truth, Ashe’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. There really would be no better time to come out and say how he felt. It was embarrassing that his friends were egging him on to do it, though… “… I’m gonna go talk to him.” He finally said, watching as Shane walked Jas over to where Marnie was waiting. “J-Just to talk!” He clarified, as the three of them broke into shit-eating grins. “Jeez, you guys… can you please give it a rest?”

Before he could talk himself out of it, he swiftly strolled away from their group. “…. Do you think we pushed the issue a bit too much?” Sam asked guiltily.

“It needed to be done.” Sebastian shifted to sit down, exhaling a plume of smoke as he contemplated a job well done. “If we didn’t pick at him like that he wouldn’t have done anything, and I cannot watch them be super awkward with each other anymore.”  

 “There you two are.” Marnie greeted her nephew and niece with a smile as they approached. “I was starting to get worried. Did something happen?”

“Yeah, Jas couldn’t find her bunny-jewel slippers.” Shane lightly ruffled Jas’ hair. “She insisted on wearing them for some reason, so we had to practically tear her room apart trying to find them. Turns out they’d gotten between the bed and the wall.”

Hearing that made the portly woman laugh. “Well then, if that isn’t a lesson in keeping a tidy room then I don’t know what is.” Kneeling down to the child’s level, she offered her a grape popsicle from the little freezer that she and Lewis had stocked full. “Lucky for you, the jellies haven’t passed by yet.”

Beaming at the treat, Jas tore the top open with her teeth. “I hope there are babies this year!” She declared enthusiastically, drawing a laugh from her guardians. It was something she wished for every year, without fail.

“Well, I guess we should pick a spot.” Shane ruffled her hair again with a grin before tucking his hands into his pockets. “… I need to take care of something first. Don’t wait up for me if the show starts before I get back.”

“Alright, hun.” She wouldn’t let it show, but Marnie had an inkling as to what he was going to be doing. “Come on Jas, I’m sure Vincent has been waiting patiently for you.” Taking hold of Jas’ hand, she led her niece towards the docks, leaving a nervous Shane to tug at the collar of his shirt as he looked around. ‘Good luck, Shane.’

‘Alright… let’s see how things play out.’ Shane thought to himself, scanning the dock for that familiar yellow headband. Imagine his surprise when he spotted it moving towards him, as though Ashe was also looking for him in that moment. “Oh. Hey, Ashe. I was just looking for you.” He greeted, feeling his heart jump up into his throat as the farmer approached.

“Really?” Ashe laughed nervously as he came to stand before him, feeling his palms become sweaty from his nerves.

“Yeah.” Somewhat awkwardly, Shane rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous half-laugh of his own. “I actually… well…”

For a brief moment, a painful silence fell between them, as they both wrestled with what they wanted to say. “... Can we talk?” Ashe finally managed to ask, looking up at his friend as he anxiously played with his fingers. “A-away from everyone?”

Shane’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, uh… sure.” He agreed, relieved that Ashe had been the one to ask it. With a jerk of his head, he gestured towards the east side of the beach, where they were guaranteed to have some privacy.

Silently, the two of them crossed the thin wooden plank used to bridge the gap between the two sides, moving away from the dim light cast by the sparse torches towards the north. “Soooo, uh…. What is it that you wanted to talk about, bud?”

Ashe didn’t say anything at first; to be honest, he hadn’t thought this far ahead. Being put on the spot like this just made it even harder for him to think. “I-I just… have something I need to say.” He began slowly, playing with one of the buttons on his overalls just to give his hands something to do as they slowly walked along the shore. “And I… really, really don’t know how to say it, but I’m gonna try.”

They came to a stop near the water’s edge, just out of reach of the gently lapping waves. “You… I mean, we… er….” He started and stopped several times, feeling his face heat up each time it happened. “… Do you remember that one really bad day we had a couple weeks ago? You asked me what I thought was good about you, and I just started going on and on…”  

“Yeah, I remember.” Shane tucked his hands back into his pockets, somehow managing to look calm and cool despite his heart beating loudly inside his chest.

“W-Well…” Ashe swallowed a little and let out a shaky breath. “I meant every word, you know? But it wasn’t just what I thought was good about you… it was everything that I liked about you, too. That’s why that last one slipped out, and…” He fidgeted a little, slowly hunching his shoulders as he worked up the courage to just say it. “….. I like you.” He finally blurted out, making Shane jump a little from how sudden it was. “I like you… so much that I can’t stand it sometimes!”

Without realizing it, he’d screwed his eyes shut, clutching his hands against his chest as he said the words that he’d been wanting to say for the longest time, his entire frame shaking now as he waited for some kind of response from Shane—a rejection was what he was expecting the most, to be honest, and it was what he was most afraid of. He was sure that Shane would want someone closer to his own age, that he just saw Ashe as a little brother.

They were the same doubts that Shane had harbored himself up to that moment, except that he hadn’t had the courage to come out and say anything like Ashe had. But now that he knew that they both had the same feelings, nothing could stop him from reaching out to cup the smaller male’s face and pulling him close until their lips connected.

“Mmf--!” The tiniest noise of surprise escaped Ashe’s mouth, only to be silenced as Shane slipped his tongue inside. It was a little intense, sure, but he couldn’t stop himself once he felt how soft and plush Ashe’s lips really were, how warm they felt against his own. It really did feel like a dream, except not even in his wildest dreams did he ever think it would feel this good to kiss him.

After a few brief seconds, Shane pulled back to let them both catch their breath; the world had seemed to stand still in the moment, but now it roared back to life—the crash of the waves, the smell of the salt on the wind as it blew in from the ocean, the sound of chatter coming from the docks a few hundred feet away. “I feel the same about you.” He murmured, gently brushing his thumb against Ashe’s cheek as their foreheads pressed together; shyly, Ashe leaned into his touch, his hands still tightly grasping at the front of his overalls. “I have for awhile… I was just too afraid of scaring you away to say anything. You could have your pick of anyone in town, and I didn’t think I had a snowball’s chance in hell.”

“Ah….” Ashe blinked slowly in surprise at those words. Here he’d been afraid of speaking up for that exact same reason. “….” Shyly, he tiptoed closer, until he was leaning completely against Shane. “There’s no one else that even comes close to how much I like you.” He mumbled, hiding his face in the older man’s chest. “I wanna be with you.”

His cheeks flaring red from just how cute that was, Shane covered his mouth with one hand, taking a second to compose himself before he tried to speak again; with just a little bit of hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Ashe’s slender frame and hugged him close. “I guess that goes double for me.”

For the longest moment, they stayed like that, feeling the way that their hearts both raced inside their chests; they were both as nervous as the other, almost as much as they had been when they first set out to talk. “… We should probably head back.” Shane commented as he cleared his throat, not making any moves to let go of Ashe just yet. “We’re going to miss the jellies if we take much longer. I would say that we’re going to give people ideas, too, but… I’m pretty sure that the whole damn town’s been waiting for us to get together.”

“Y-Yeah.” Ashe likewise made no move to separate from Shane. It felt nice to be held like that. “… Would it be okay if… Y-You know what, nevermind, it’s—”

“Do you want to watch with me and Marnie and Jas?” Shane offered, almost as if he’d read Ashe’s mind. “I understand if you’d rather watch with Sebastian and the others… but I know Jas would be happy if you joined us. Marnie too. And… I’d be happy too, of course.”

Ashe’s face lit up like the jellies in the distance. “Y-yes! I’d love to watch with you guys.” It was what he wanted to ask, after all. He’d just been worried about pushing things too much too quickly; this was his first relationship.

His response made Shane grin. “Great. Here, let’s get a move on.” He released Ashe from his embrace, and the two began to walk briskly back towards the others, with Ashe happily hugging Shane’s arm as they walked. It was a little embarrassing, but if it made him happy, then Shane sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him.

“There you are!” Jas huffed as they approached. “Jeez, you always take so long to do things! Hurryyyyy, we’re gonna send the boats out!”

“I told you, I only have one speed I can go at.” Shane was more than a little winded by the time he and Ashe got to where Jas and Marnie were waiting on the docks. “I’m hustling as fast as I can.”

“You’re fine, Shane.” Marnie laughed, passing him a paper boat with a candle inside. “You two don’t mind sharing one to send out, do you?” She asked with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

Of course there was no hiding anything from her, not that Shane expected to anyway. “Nope, that’s fine.” He answered. Marnie passed Ashe a match box to light the candle with, and the two of them went to the edge of the dock. “You know how to handle matches, right?” He asked, eying Ashe as he slid a match out from the matchbook.

“Mmhm.” They crouched down, and Shane held the boat close to him; as Ashe dragged the head of the match against the striker, filling the air with the acrid burning smell that was characteristic of the medium as the head ignited. Carefully, he lit the wick of the candle inside the boat, and Shane managed to lean down and set it in the water, giving the vessel a good push to send it on its way. Around them, everyone else did the same, filling the pitch-black surface of the sea with dots of warm light as the boats sailed away.

Within just a few moments, the brilliant glow of hundreds of jellyfish drew near, illuminating the ocean like stars in the sky above. It was the kind of sight that took your breath away with just how simple and beautiful it was, how elegant the jellies were as they glided effortlessly through the water like ghosts through air.

“Auntie, Auntie!!!” Jas whispered excitedly, grabbing onto Marnie’s arm and jumping up and down. “I see babies!!!” It was a wish finally come true, as dozens of tiny jellies drifted alongside the adults towards the docks.

“Shhh.” Marnie tried to shush her, while she simultaneously tried not to laugh at Jas’ reaction. “You’ll frighten them away if you make that much noise.”

“Heh, she’s never going to stop talking about tonight.” Shane chuckled, shifting to sit on the edge of the dock so he wasn’t killing his back by crouching anymore. “She’s wanted to see babies for years.” As he spoke, he casually took hold of Ashe’s hand and laced their fingers together.

“I wish I could get that excited about things.” Ashe felt his cheeks heat up, smiling bashfully as he moved to sit on his knees. After a few minutes, he noticed a peculiar green glow amidst the sea of white and blue, leaning forward a little to try and get a better look. “… Hey, Shane? Do you see that too?”

Indeed, Shane did. To their amazement, a dazzling green jellyfish was drifting ever so lazily towards them, parting the other jellies like it was royalty amongst them. It came right up to where Ashe was, lingered for just a moment, and almost seemed to reach out to the farmer. “Ah…. Hello there.” Enraptured, Ashe leaned forward even more, reaching out with his own hand—only for the moment to be shattered as the tide began to carry the jellies away, back out towards the open sea.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a green jelly before.” Shane was awestruck. “Old Willy’s mentioned them before, but this is the first time I’ve seen one with my own eyes… damn…”

“I wonder why it came up to me…” Ashe sat back, leaning against Shane a little as they watched the jellies return to the distance. “…. I wish they could have stayed a little longer.”

“Yeah, I kind of do too.” Shane gave his hand a squeeze. “But they have their own thing they gotta do. We’re lucky they decide to stop here on the way.”

The Dance of the Moonlight Jellies had never been a lively festival. It was always a peaceful one, a quiet, introspective one. There wasn’t an official end to it, either; people would just leave as they saw fit, whether because they had seen their fill or because they couldn’t stay awake long enough to watch anymore. In a sense, it wasn’t even really a festival. It just was what it was.

Before long, the four of them—Shane, Ashe, Jas and Marnie—got ready to head home as well. “Come along, little missy.” Marnie coaxed a sleepy Jas. “Let’s get you off to bed.”

“Okay…” Too tired to protest, Jas tiredly rubbed at her eyes as she looked to Shane expectantly.

Seeing where Jas was looking, Marnie knelt down to her level and smiled. “Shane will head back a bit later.” She explained, taking hold of Jas’ hand as she spoke. “He’s going to make sure Ashe gets home safe first. Okay?”

“Oh, okay…” It made sense to Jas, who nodded her head with a yawn. “Night, Mr. Ashe…” She bid, letting Marnie lead her away.

“Good night, Jas.” Ashe waved with a smile. “Yoba, she’s so cute.”

“Yeah….” Shane was a little embarrassed that Marnie seemingly read his mind, though he guessed it didn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out that’s what he was going to do. “You’re pretty cute too, you know.”

The compliment earned a surprised little ‘meep’ from Ashe, who turned a bright shade of red. Hearing that from Shane made him… really happy. He didn’t know what to say to that, so instead, he hugged onto Shane’s arm and buried his face in his shoulder. “We should get going.” He mumbled, his voice muffled by the sleeve of Shane’s shirt.

“Pfft… alright, alright.” Shane got a bit of a kick out of that reaction. He’d have to try and get a similar one sometime.

               Lingering off to the side as everyone else left, the three amigos watched the pair head off as well. “Well, would you look at that.” Sam observed with a huge grin on his face.

“Mission successful.” Sebastian fist-bumped Abigail in victory. “See, I told you things would work out.”

“They look so happy together~” Abigail couldn’t help the happy little jig that came over her at the sight. “I wish I’d brought my phone so I could take a picture for the RP group. It’s almost like something you’d read in a storybook, so I dunno if they’ll believe me when I tell them it finally happened.”

“It’s not any of their business.” Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Sebastian ground out the butt of his cigarette into the sand and stuck it into the little container he kept tucked inside his shirt pocket. “It’s not any of our business now. They deserve at least that much.”

He played it off with his usual deadpan tone, but he was just as happy for his friend as Sam and Abigail were. And they were happy for Shane, too. Just like how everyone wordlessly agreed not to speak about Marnie and Lewis, there was already an unspoken agreement to not bring up Shane and Ashe—it was just how the town handled budding relationships, out of respect for those involved. Except for in one very specific situation… “Alright, what are the bets on when they tie the knot?”

[wordstrings]

Of Maintenance Part 2: Physical Therapy

Written and submitted by @ask-flip-frost​; a sequel to Of Maintenance. (Publisher’s notes can be found at the end of the work.) Words: 4,300

Things were changing. Whether they were more spooky or less spooky with the developing knowledge was difficult to say, though. Several everyday phenomena which Sam and Dean had taken to be the result of Castiel’s telekinetic abilities had been debunked as something far more simple. In the week since his medicinal bath, the grace-touch Cas had granted to the Winchester’s eyes had not faded out. His wings were still visible to them. As such, they began to notice all manner of peculiar things.

For starters, Castiel was not nearly as statuesque as they’d always perceived him to be. Even if the rest of his body seemed to be standing perfectly still, his wings gave away that he was, in fact, constantly fidgeting. Often it was only a gentle twitch or sway, but other times it would be the sort of swift flap one might see from a bird debating its position on a branch as the angel settled onto the living area’s couch. The first time that happened had scared the hell out of Dean and he’d fallen onto the floor with a loud curse. Out of courtesy, the brothers would give a wider berth now to accommodate the limbs, though the wings would always shift themselves to or fro as needed regardless as they always had ‘behind the scenes’.

“I am beginning to understand why Humans are uncomfortable with long stares.” Castiel commented as he picked a lore book from a high shelf in a pincer motion with the alula of either wing.

Dean started in place. He hadn’t realized that he’d been staring again. He grunted quietly and went back to fake-reading for a case. Well, ‘case’ in the sense that it wasn’t really their sort of thing, but they were bored out of their minds. Idle hands being tools of the devil, he could definitely understand how so many bad decisions came in moments where a person was left with nothing to drown out melancholy thoughts. Might as well research old serial killers and have debates on whether or not they were supernaturally inclined.

“I always thought you did that with your brain, I dunno. Some floaty angel shit.” Dean shrugged, dropping both the pretense and his book “Still getting used to it.”

“I use my brain to move my wings.” Castiel rolled his eyes, thumbing through his volume. “I could lift something by altering the molecular structure of the air around it, but it seems like wasted effort.”

With Cas’ attention divided by reading, the elder Winchester felt as if he could chance another appraising look at the wings. This time, he was moreso checking on their healing progress. Any time he’d gotten close enough to attempt to give them a once-over, they’d folded up protectively against the angel’s back. The skin certainly seemed healthier. Feathers were coming in nicely. A marked rise in Castiel’s mood might have been linked to their recovery.

“Dean.” Cas admonished.

“What?”

Cas turned to face him straight on, irritated as fully as a woman who didn’t want someone ogling her legs. He closed the distance and waited until Dean met his eyes. It took more than a few seconds.

“Alright, I get it, I get it. I wouldn’t have to be so damn sneaky about it if you’d let us actually check them. We said we wanted to help, and you promised you’d let us.” Dean fussed. “It’s been a week, and all you’re doing is just… misting them like house plants with that oil stuff. I wanted to make sure they’re getting better. Sue me.”

“…Oh,”

“Whaddaya mean oh?”

All this time, Castiel had felt that he was being viewed as somewhat of a side-show. The extra space given, the hidden peeks, and the badgering about keeping up on moisturizing the damaged skin had been giving him mixed signals on whether or not he was being treated as… well, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t like it. He dropped his eyes, embarrassed.

“I misunderstood the reason for your leering.” Cas admitted quietly.

“Leering? Who’s leering?” Dean demanded, slapping the table to get full attention when Cas glanced away. “No, you look at me. If you think for a minute that we’re just gawking for the sake of seeing something weird, then you really need to get your head out of your ass, Cas. We stare because we care.”

That didn’t sound creepy. Ah, shit, he’d rhymed as well.

Castiel gave a begrudged nod. While he didn’t particularly care for being scolded like a child, he would be remiss to ignore the small flutter of importance that had bloomed in his chest from it. Something he’d perceived to be bordering on hateful was actually just the Winchesters’ way of looking after him without being obvious about it.

Feeling that his point had been made, Dean pushed up from the table and pointed an accusing finger as he backed out of the library.

“Alright. I’m going to pick Sammy up and grab some grub. When I get back, you’re getting a full check-up. No buts.”

If Castiel had been properly miffed, it would have been as easy as leaving before Dean returned to avoid further possibility of ridicule. But he stayed. Heaven help him, he stayed.

–

When the door to the bunker swung open by way of an aggressive hip, Castiel looked up briefly from his book and gave both Winchesters an expression of acknowledgement. Sam had been out all day, but where he had no idea. Both Sam and Dean had their arms full of takeout and grocery bags, though it seemed unlikely that the younger brother had been shopping for the last seven hours.

Behind Cas, there was some sort of structured movement going on. It reminded Sam of some upper body calisthenics demonstrated in a documentary about Victorian housewives he’d watched in college; the kind of exercise that only worked a set group of muscles, as was appropriate for ladies at the time. Not that he’d say that out loud. It looked a bit silly, though.

“The hell are you doing?” Dean asked bluntly.

“Stretching.” Cas didn’t look up a second time.

“Are you sore?” Sam prompted.

“No more than usual.” the angel replied with a sigh.

“How usual is usual?” Sam pressed on.

Castiel closed his book and deposited it on a table.

“Your legs are long.” Cas stated, waiting for Sam to agree to this observation before continuing. “If you are in a car for a long period of time, they become cramped, correct? Imagine if you were over one thousand feet tall, and compressed to a vessel that does not even clear six feet. Sometimes it helps to stretch, if only a little.”

It was easy to forget how big Castiel was supposed to be in a natural state when he was forever looking up at them. They understood how dangerous it would be for the angel to leave the vessel empty for any amount of time, so taking a break somewhere to fully unleash himself was unlikely to work out well.

“Okay, well-“ Sam yanked Dean’s shirt to prevent him waltzing away from putting groceries up. “We’ve been thinking about that a little, actually. Dean’s been calling physical therapy clinics in the area to get advice on what we can do to make things better for you.”

“Sneaking.” Dean interjected.

“-And I went to the vet clinic to volunteer with a bird rehabilitation group today. So I think we’ll have a better idea on how to handle helping you along.” Sam continued. “Got a few things we can try, but we’ll see how it goes and kind of play it by ear.”

At a loss for words, Castiel blinked and looked from one brother to the other. His don’t bother worrying about me, I am not worth it train of thought was solidly arguing with his I am deeply humbled and thankful to be cared about train of thought.

“The therapists all told us to check range of motion and try to balance resistance exercises and stretches with massages to release tension in the muscles.” Dean explained, slapping Cas on the shoulder. “Who’s a lucky duck?”

Cas pulled a grumpled expression as Dean turned back to stack cans of sloppy joe sauce in the cabinet.

“I am not a duck.” he huffed.

“Ya might as well be. That’s all Sammy’s been practicing on all day.” Dean laughed. “You’ll be the first on his client list not to peck at him. Or maybe you will, I dunno. You were pretty twitchy last time we had hands on you, so~”

Eyes to the ceiling, Castiel asked his Father for whatever strength he needed not to stuff Dean into a garbage can. He was thankful that the teasing was not further pursued while the remaining groceries were sorted. The time was spent going over what each brother had learned in their separate endeavors. He learned that Sam had been followed by an entire flock of some forty-odd ducks when it was time for him to leave, and that Dean had been given love letters by three old women and one old man after a day of working in senior physical therapy earlier in the week. As a point of pride, he’d kept all of them like trophies.

“Here, these are for you.” Sam tugged a pack of jersey knit pajama pants out of the last bag and passed them over to Cas. “So you don’t have to borrow any. Go ahead and change. There’s a shirt, too, but we need it off for now so we can see what we’re doing.”

Castiel ran his hand over the plastic with a quiet thank you. It crinkled softly in his fingers. Technically speaking, he didn’t own a single article of clothing besides what was already on his person. Any that he’d worn during his period as a human had been discarded as a means to bury the memory of his many struggles. Those clothes had all been second-hand anyway, though. These were new, expressly for him. A touching gesture to say the least.

This time, he didn’t feel nearly as self-conscious changing out of his normal attire. For a long moment, he fiddled with the drawstrings of his trousers to ensure that they were perfectly fit before tying a messy knot. Something which looked only sort of like a bow, but it was good enough. Learning to tie his shoes during his humanity stint had been quite a journey, but a small child who’d wandered off from her mother in the mall had been kind enough to show him as best she could manage. The things you needed to know as an ‘adult’ were hardly ever clear until you were in the moment, he’d come to find.

When Cas returned, he saw that a table in the library had been fixed up with lots of folded blankets to create a padded surface. Not strictly necessary, but it was nice to see all the same. A groaning sigh dramatic enough to rival a Kansas twister whooshed from his lungs in pure disapproval as Dean sauntered in wearing a lab coat, carrying a clip board.

“What?” Dean scoffed. “Too much?”

“YEAH.” came the unison reply.

“Fine. Buncha killjoys.” Dean muttered, shrugging out of the coat and tossing it in a rumpled pile on a chair. “Up on the table, big guy. Stretch out the wings as far as they’ll go side to side. Don’t let them droop if you can help it. We need to see if any of your muscles have atrophied.”

One foot pressed to a chair, Castiel pushed up on the table and settled into a comfortable sitting position, legs dangled somewhat stiffly over the side. A few small pops worked in the joints as he slowly reached his wings out in a wide t-shape. He wasn’t all together sure if that was a problem in the vessel’s shoulders or in his actual wings. Later he would run a checklist of all of the organic components which didn’t strictly belong to him. Well. They did now, he supposed.

“Try making circles, then go up and down.” Sam frowned at the noise, flipping through a little field guide he’d been given that day. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Cas shook his head, complying with the request easily. “It’s a relief. Everything has felt a little-“

“Flabby?” Dean supplied brightly. “Since you haven’t been able to go out for a sky spin in forever?”

If looks could kill.

“…tight. I have been exercising them, but the stiffness remains.” Cas grumbled. “My wing muscles are not flabby.”

“Touched a nerve on that one.” Dean huffed under his breath, eyebrows jumped up.

Quick to diffuse, Sam cleared his throat.

“You need recovery days to let muscles rest. Even if you’ve never needed them before, you’ve also never really been in a vessel for this long, right? Celestial energy verses physically shrunk down has got to have differences in how your wings react to things, especially after trauma. You said it feels cramped and tight, so let’s work from there. I’ll apply pressure. Try to keep from lowering your wings.” Sam advised, taking up a position behind the brooding angel.

Slowly he pushed down, little by little adding more force. The wings didn’t move an inch. They were warm and solid. A far cry less ashy-looking than the last time he’d touched them as well. Resistance didn’t seem to be a problem. There was no tremble of fatigue, but the muscles were heavily bunched.

“Not flabby.” Sam confirmed, noting with amusement how Cas’ feathers puffed a little in pride.

“See?” Cas sniffed in a superior tone.

“Got it.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“It was easy.” Cas added.

“I got it.” Dean repeated.

“Like they were baby hands.”

“Got it, Cas. Not flabby.”

Sam looked down at his giant paws and mouthed baby hands before reaching into a small box on the table. He began carefully laying out a collection of wires and pads. When he caught Castiel looking curiously over his shoulder, he held up the box to show a picture. The edges of the cardboard were slightly dog-eared from age, but the contents had been kept in pristine condition.

“TENS unit,” Sam explained. “I do long distance runs, and sometimes when my muscles get overworked, this helps kill off the pain and kind of forces them to relax after you use it. It stimulates your nerves with electricity pulses.”

When he was met with a wary expression, Sam rolled up his own sleeve and stuck two of the leads to his forearm. He fiddled with the settings and clicked the machine to life. Small twitches in his muscles were apparent.

“See? It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt. It’s weird, but DeanDeanDeanDON’T- AH!”

Unable to help himself, Dean plucked up the unit and cranked the dial WAY up, chuckling deeply as Sam’s arm convulsed into weird positons.

“This thing is WILD, Cas. We used to play a drinking game with these where you try to balance a ping pong ball on a spoon while it’s buzzing you, and if you dropped it, you had to take a shot.” Dean smirked, shutting the machine off, to Sam’s relief. “So just so you’re prepared, if it jerks you around a little, it’s fine. Doesn’t hurt, there are just places it isn’t safe to go, like around your heart. If Sammy can take it, you can take it. If it gets too sore, let us know and we’ll shut it down. Sound good?”

Cas nodded, actually a little relieved at the show of absurdity. It made him feel less like a specimen. There were no further protests as Sam began attaching leads to the meatiest sections of his wings and one on each shoulder blade at the joint. Anywhere where the knots were especially tight. The stickiness of the pads felt strange, but not particularly uncomfortable.

“You good?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” the angel replied, bracing his hands on the edge of the table.

“I figure we’ll let this run for a little while, then we’ll massage out the rest of those tense spots manually. You can go for a soak after. It’ll be a good day.” Dean promised.

“I’ll go get some of the leftover oil.” Sam offered. “Unless you already got some lotion or something for today?”

Dean thought to the small bottle of Jergens in his room… in a box… with his questionable reading material. The only lotion he owned.

“Nope,” the older Winchester lied.

“Right. Uh. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

The last thing Dean wanted was to endure something overly floral for this very manly process, so he turned to follow at his brother’s heels to micromanage the scent choices.

“Dean-“ Castiel interrupted his departure. “I’m sorry.”

“…For what?” Dean squinted.

“Earlier today. I thought… I thought you were being condescending. I’m sorry for being upset.”

Dean’s face went a little slack with guilt. Cas shouldn’t have to apologize for feeling upset. He spent so much of his time self-loathing already. All members of Team Free Will had a certain lack of communication skills when it came to sensitive topics, and Dean wasn’t exactly the most emotionally mature person when his pride was stinging.

“Yeah, well. Forget it, okay? I wasn’t exactly being up front about stuff.” Dean shrugged, looking for immediate escape from a dissection of character. “Be right back. Stay put.”

Now, the wisest course of action would have been for Castiel to wait patiently for the brothers to return, but frankly, he wanted to know what he was in for so that he would be able to adjust his reactions accordingly. If he could anticipate the jolts, then perhaps he could work against them to avoid looking quite as ridiculous as Sam had. Blue eyes kept sliding from the TENS unit to the door and back again. The oils were kept in the recovery room with all of the tubs, so he’d have at least two or three minutes to himself. Sam and Dean were strollers if there wasn’t a need for hurry. Ever so slowly, he reached out and closed a hand over the little machine.

–

“What’s wrong with lavender?” Sam groaned.

“It stinks, Sam. Use the sandalwood.”

“THAT stinks!”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

After much grumbling, they finally decided on eucalyptus, if only because Cas had mentioned that he’d liked the scent previously. This was about him after all. Before starting back to the library, they begrudgingly claimed a truce to avoid making the angel any more uncomfortable with sibling bickering. That was when both brothers were startled by flickering lights.

“Cas.” Dean stated, breaking into a run.

The door banged open.

Down on the floor, curled into a twitching ball against the table, was Castiel… doing something they’d only witnessed once before. The poor fellow was laughing, deep and rich and panicked. There was something else mixed with the sound; something almost musical and very, very strange. It made the humans go slightly cross-eyed for a second. They rubbed their faces hard to correct this. At least their ears weren’t screaming in pain.

“OFF!” Cas choked out.

Electricity was buzzing straight through his muscles down into his very grace. It wasn’t only that the unit gave off a tingling pulse over various sensitive points in his wings and shoulders. That would have been bad enough, especially the patches jolting into his wing pits. No, this was something altogether unbearable. Castiel hadn’t even been aware that his very essence of being was capable of falling subject to these sorts of sensations, but save him it tickled and tickled and tickled relentlessly. The entire world was blurred at the edges and all he knew was a crazed swirling of mirth and chaos exploding through his core. It was everywhere, inside and out.

“Hold on, hold on…” Dean tried, though it was doubtful that Cas could even hear him through the forced giggling and weird melodic notes.

Trying to get close enough to Castiel to snatch the machine up was like running a gauntlet. His wings were suffering from a combination of tickle shimmies and electric pulse muscle spasms. Any time Sam or Dean ducked in to make a grab, they were pummeled by a wall of feathers. Dean could taste blood after a clock to his nose, but adrenaline and amusement kept him from noticing more than a vague sting.

“Cas… Cas we can’t… you’ve gotta…” Dean weaved and batted.

“Work with us, Cas!” Sam grunted, hanging onto one wing for dear life as it thrashed him up and down as if he weighed nothing.

“T-t-t!!!” Cas tried to form words through his laughter, arms clutched tight around his middle.

Desperation incarnate, he reached out lightning quick with the miniscule amount of grace able to bend to his will and yanked the boys in close with it. This had the unfortunate side effect of spreading the sensation as the essence touched down on them, leaving both Winchesters doubled up in helpless wheezing cackles against their angelic friend. What the hell was this non-physical tickly feeling???

“CAS D-!!! CAN’T HE-HELP IF?!” Dean snorted.

They were screwed. Caught in the loop of laughter. What a way to go out.

Until…

It seemed that the reapers would not be coming for them on that particular day. Whether from divine intervention or dumb luck, the device shut off. A collective gasp for air sounded through the room.

“Shit… that tickled.” Dean heaved. “What happened?”

“It would seem that my grace is… vulnerable to electric stimulation.” Castiel rolled onto his back and put a hand over his face in a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

Nobody moved. There was a strange afterglow of sheer contentment from the shared-grace-giggling experience, though nobody was quick to admit how good they felt at the moment.

“Timer.” Sam stated finally. “I have a default timer of five minutes on it. That’s why it shut off.”

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to turn the settings WAY down on that thing because I don’t think I can handle that again right now if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace.” Dean rolled up into a sit and started aligning the intensity controls.

Cas made an instinctive reach for the device, which Dean deftly avoided.

“Not our fault you turned it on when it was set high. We’re still doing this, but we’re doing it right. Lower pulse ought to be fine. Back up on the table.”

Wide eyed and nervous, Castiel resumed his original position. He was still just a little too drunk on the endorphin spike to pull an annoyed expression, but still swiftly gripped a wrist on each brother.

“Don’t leave this time.” he insisted.

Sam and Dean shared a look, then jumped up to sit on either side of him. When he gave a small nod to signal his mental steel-up, the TENS unit once again buzzed to life, this time at a far more tolerable frequency. Only just, but tolerable all the same. His grace gave out pulsing shivers, almost as if nails were running over sensitized skin.

Hands balled in the padding blankets and legs lightly squirming for purchase over the side of the table, Castiel tried his best to bear through the time. He dug his chin down into his collar bone as breathy giggles clawed their way to the surface. Nope. A grown man-angel shouldn’t be allowed to be this adorable.

“This is supposed to be relaxing. Are you relaxed?” Dean grinned, giving a little poke to one of the wiggling wings.

“I AM NO-HOT!”

Sam held back a snort to avoid embarrassing the angel, but threw Dean a can you believe this expression when Cas tipped to his side and pressed muffled laughter into his jacket sleeve. Both brothers held a supportive hand to the angel’s back.

“Cas, we’d better not catch you alone like this again in your free time. If we need you for a case and you’re just holed up under the table having a tickle party for one-”

“Be quiet, De-hean!” Cas interrupted him with a giggly shove from the closest wing. “I’ll make you… I’ll make you feel…”

It was hardly an intimidating threat at the moment. The teasing verbal jabs seemed to up the intensity of whatever was happening with the celestial energy, and Castiel’s eyes were shining bright with tears by the time the machine beeped to signal the end of its cycle.

“Finished.” Sam announced in a sympathetic tone.

“Already?” Cas asked, wiping away the evidence of his mirth crying.

“Already?” Dean repeated, amused.

“It seemed to go by much faster. Perhaps, time being relative and also being that the potency of the treatment was at a marked decrease, my tolerance was raised for the challenge. It was pleasant. The effect on my grace was thoroughly enjoyable.” Castiel acknowledged, squinting at the Winchesters’ surprised expressions. “Did I not elucidate this well enough?”

Carefully, he stretched out his wings, noting with satisfaction that they felt remarkably limber as compared to the prickly tightness from the beginning of the day. He gave a soft yelp when fingers began picking at the TENS pads to unstick them from his skin. A bit over-sensitive from prolonged tingles, it was a struggle to wrench his wings up to allow the leads to be peeled away from the joints at his shoulder blades. They snapped down repeatedly and he shook his head with a scrunched nose of valiant failed effort. It wasn’t until Dean reached out a tickly grab to Cas’ knee to redirect sensation that he buckled in and became uncoordinated enough for Sam to strip everything free.

When everything had been boxed back up, it was difficult to ignore that Castiel’s expression remained bright and pleased. He looked happy. With any luck, maybe in the future that would not feel like such a foreign thing to see.

———

Publisher’s Notes: I absolutely LOVED getting to toss around ideas with you, some of which ended up straight here! This is so precious, and the line “...if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace” is a particular treasure. Thank you so much for blessing us with this continuation! <3

[crimsxnrebellion-blog]

Crashing Down

[(Alternate Title: Dante Should Have Listened to Jojo's song, "Little Too Late")

Basically, an AU of what could happen between Dante and Lady because they're both dumb (especially Dante).

So...I fought with myself to even post it. It started out as me working through my emotions through Dante and Lady and kept going. Thus, this has a bit of personal flavor to it, and it took me a bit to even convince myself to finish it or make it anything postable in the first place. So, here's my emotional drivel as I try to cope with my own bad decisions and cowardice. :’3]

Lady’s tone when she called half an hour ago unsettled him. Normally, when she said, “we need to talk,” annoyance or anger burst forth in every syllable and several curses or name calling followed. He could perfectly picture the scowl settled on her features as she straddled her motorcycle or paced in her apartment. Occasionally, a sadness crept into her tone. But, this mostly happened if she had her mother or what happened in that tower that changed their lives forever on their mind. But, this time, little emotion accompanied her request to come over. Her statement a simple answer to his why.

Thus, when she entered the shop dressed in a form fitting black dress with heels and makeup on, fingers worrying the clutch in her hands, the demon hunter raised an eyebrow and clenched his jaw to keep it from dropping. She looked gorgeous. She always did, in all honesty, but he rarely saw her in clothing other than her hunting attire. She glowed in that moment, the only thing dampening her radiance was the obvious worry that creased her brow.

“You come all this way dressed up to ask me on a date or something?” He grinned as the legs of his chair scraped at the wood floor below him. “Well, you’ll have to give me a bit to get ready. I haven’t even showered today.”

She rolled her eyes, and he swore he saw her lips quiver as she tried not to smile. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m going on a date but not with your sorry ass. And quit staring. I have something I want to tell you, to get your opinion.”

Dante stopped midstep, hand resting over his heart. “Wha-what? The brilliant, know-it-all Lady needs my advice?”

“Dante!” Lady stamped her foot, her heel clicking on the wood floor instead of the normal thud her boot would make. “I’m serious! For once, can you cut the crap?”

“Alright, alright.” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he raised his hand in surrender. “What’s got your probably sexy lace panties in a bunch?”

The woman remained silent for at least a full minute, bi color eyes staring anywhere except at her hunting partner. “Let me just preface this by saying I know it’s going to seem a little soon...”

Dante clapped his hand to his mouth. “You’re asking me to marry you?”

“Dante!”

“Okay, okay. Go on.”

She huffed and squeezed her clutch. He figured she was trying her hardest not to chuck it at his head. “You’re on the right topic, at least.” She sucked in a breath and finally met his gaze. “You remember that guy I started seeing, Nick? I brought him over for Christmas to meet all of you?”

Just hearing his name made him want to roll his eyes. His demon growled in jealousy, possessiveness, but he couldn’t fully blame his devil. He remembered that night clearly. How his mood had tanked all night, that loud, fake laughter he had to perform at the guy’s lame jokes to avoid Lady’s glares. Holding back every nasty comment about his clothes, his stature, his physique, his bland personality, how he didn’t treat Lady exactly how he felt she should be treated. The seventh bottle of whiskey he went through before pretending to be too drunk to function and escaping to his room to lick his wounds and fume.

“Sure. The dude who forbid you from talking to me when you first started...dating or whatever you want to call it.” His mind was so clouded by his jealousy, he didn’t put two and two together. “Figured you’d dump him for trying to pull that shit.”

“Dante, I talked to him. He backed off on that. He knows you’re my partner and that we’re close friends.” Another roll of her eyes. “But I didn’t come here to argue with you about this again. The thing is...I think he’s going to propose to me.”

Though he should have seen it coming, the news sank his heart to the pit of his stomach. It felt like his ribcage was closing around his lungs and trying to puncture them. “Would you say yes?” he croaked before he could stop himself. No, she couldn’t get married. Not to some bland idiot like this Nick guy. And Lady settling down? Starting a family? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. She had always been the badass demon hunter to him. The beautiful, amazing, compassionate, irresistible demon hunter.

The question obviously caught her off guard as she blinked and stuttered over how to respond. “Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Dante could list a million reasons. “I dunno...guess it just seems...sudden.”

“You think it’s too soon?” Her eyes shone as they pleaded with him for guidance. He was the last person she should have this conversation with, knowing his track record. Not to mention he suddenly felt like he needed to vomit on top of the dagger she had metaphorically shoved into him.  

“I’m scared. Really. Me...married.” She laughed, a nervous sound he had never heard come from her. She almost always radiated confidence, and when she didn’t, he helped her build it back up. “But, I really want this. I love him. I’m comfortable with him, and you know that doesn’t ever happen. He accepts me, shitty past and all.”

A twist of the dagger. She loved him. She loved Nick. She didn’t love him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Panic settled in and pumped his heart a million beats per second. Fight or flight instincts told him to bolt and bolt quick. But he stood rooted to the spot, eyes darting every which way as his mind processed some kind of response.

“Cool.” The aggravation in her expression told him that was the wrong response. “I mean...I’m uh, glad you found someone like that. If he makes you happy, I’m happy for you.”

A lie. A lie that tasted like the bitterest toxin. It wouldn’t kill him. That would be too merciful in that moment.  

Lady’s expression softened, a smile lighting up her features. She threw her arms around him. “Thanks, Dante. It means a lot. Really.” She pulled away. “I need to get going. I’ll tell you how it goes if it happens.”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he muttered as he back moved toward the door. “Later.”

--------------------------------

Dante slammed his glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar, signaling to the bartender that he needed his whiskey topped off. Bullseye was fairly empty, especially for a Friday night. The jukebox in the corner crooned out Motley Crue’s “Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)” over the occasional laughter and muted conversations of the few others around him. While on a normal night he would hardly pay the other patrons much attention, his mind was so entrenched in his memory of his meeting with Lady a few hours before that his general aloofness became complete distraction.

He brushed his fingers through his snowy locks. If someone asked what he felt in that moment, he wouldn’t know what to tell them because he couldn’t begin to pin his emotions for himself. He was angry, at her, at himself, at Nick. Crushed and broken hearted. He felt stupid. Jealous. Guilty because he knew he should be happy for her. Happy that she would be getting the life she secretly longed for—marriage, a family, stability—but he just couldn’t bring himself to even pretend to be happy. The more he tried, the more it hurt.

“Yo, Dante. Did you even hear me?”

Ice blue eyes snapped up to the bartender, an old friend named Frank. A shorter guy with cropped gray-peppered brown hair and a knowledge of liquor to impress even the most refined conisseurs. He claimed that Dante was the reason he was able to keep the place open. That and the fact that it was connected to a seedy strip club. “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind is all.” He swiped up his glass and took a long swig. The burn hardly bothered him anymore. He set the near empty glass back down and watched as Frank refilled the amber liquid.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had woman problems. And not just the usual ‘they took my money again’ woman problems.”

“Well, ya ain’t far off the mark,” he sighed, spinning a coaster in his hands before tossing it back on the bar. “Lady might be getting hitched.”

“Well, good for her,” Frank said, ducking under the bar to grab another few beers for the two guys sitting at the end. “It’s about time she found someone. A few years ago, I would have bet all I have that the two of you would end up together.”

Though he tried to keep it from his face, he could tell by how Frank balked that he wasn’t successful. He drained the rest of his whiskey. “I don’t know. It’s just...weird. And he’s not right for her. He’s so...plain and normal.”

Frank shrugged. “Maybe that’s what she wants. You two don’t exactly lead the most normal lives.” He picked up a bottle whose rose-tinted glass twisted like a cyclone all the way up the neck. Some fancy, overpriced vodka by the look of it. He twisted the bottle around to examine the label. “Though it sounds to me like you do wish she was marrying you.”

Dante didn’t answer right away, and he avoided Frank’s accusing stare in favor of peering into his glass as if it had all the answers. “It’s just...” He breathed out a breath between a sigh and a huff, searching for the right words. “I’ve...been in love with her for a long time. I know I have. But, I know she could never see me that way, and it could never work out between us. I’ve known that for a long time but I still feel shitty about all this. Like I want to be happy for her, I should be happy for her, but I’m not and it feels selfish.”

He knew he was speaking a mile a minute, jumping from one thought to the next. But, since Frank had given him a chance, every thought he had over the past few hours spewed from his mouth faster than he could shoot his prized pistols. Had it not been for his chuckling, Dante would assume he hadn’t caught a lick of it.

“What’s so funny?” he barked, swigging the rest of his drink. “I’m a mess over here and all you can do is laugh at my dumb ass?”

“Well, you got that right: you’re definitely dumb.” Dante flipped the bartender off as he refilled his whiskey. “If you loved her, why the hell didn’t you just tell her?”

“It’s complicated.” He thought she hated him. He knew she could never truly love someone who was half the creature she sought to rid the world of. He assumed she wanted to keep their relationship as professional as possible. He was basically a manifestation of trash who thrived on sex, pizza, strawberry sundaes, booze, and killing demons. While she could defend herself, he had a glowing target on his back with incandescent arrows pointing at him and screaming, “SON OF THE TRAITOR, SPARDA.” Anyone he brought into his life would be put in danger, and he could never live with himself if something happened to her because he wasn’t there. He couldn’t let that happen again. He had been too weak, too young the first time. He wouldn’t let someone else be killed because of him or his heritage if he could help it.

“I doubt she feels the same,” he finally settled on. He stared down into the amber liquid in the glass. “I doubt she could feel the same. I’m a mess. She deserves better than me, anyway.”

But even I’m better than Nick.

Frank’s sigh raised his gaze again. “Well, if that’s how you feel. Never took you to be the type with confidence issues considering how often I see you leaving with a woman on your arm.” He topped Dante’s glass off one last time. “Give yourself time. You’ll sort out your shit and be back to normal before you know it.”

Dante nodded and finished off his drink. His chest still weighed a thousand pounds. “Thanks, Frank.” He tossed money on the bar with a generous tip. “I’ll see you around.”

He pushed open the door of the bar and headed out into the balmy evening air. He considered going next door to Love Planet. Watch some girls take their clothes off while slinging back shots that wouldn’t really affect him for at least another hour. Flirt with scantily clad waitresses and take one home. Drown his sorrow and self-pity the way she had for the last few decades. Pretend he had never spoken to Lady or that the conversation didn’t leave him feeling utterly idiotic and empty. But his feet had a different idea and lead him back to his door, the neon sign above bathing the area in a pink glow.  

Inside, he flipped on the light and dragged his arms out of his coat. He tossed it on the hook and trudged over to the couch. He splayed out, feet jutting out over the edge and his arm dangling over the side. The fan spinning above him didn’t do much to ward off the night’s heat, but he hardly cared. His mind was too busy replaying Lady’s visit to fathom any discomfort.  

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he drew it out. A text from Trish about a job for him tomorrow. One she no doubt felt was beneath her, so she pawned it off on him. His eye was drawn to the time. 2:17 in the morning. He hadn’t realized he had been out so long. Lady would be home by now, probably sharing her bed with Nick. He could see her wrapped in his arms as he fucked her, hear her moaning his name as her nails dug into his acne-covered back, a rock the size of her fist on her left hand.  

He should tell her how he felt. Let it all out there. He could call her now and confess his love for her. Tell her it’s always been her he wanted. Her he wanted more than anything else in the world but he didn’t have the balls to tell her. He feared for her and feared that she couldn’t love him but he didn’t care about that anymore. He loved her, and no one could keep her safe better than him.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had scrolled through his few contacts and hit the green “call” button beneath Lady’s name. It rang twice. What was he doing? He wasn’t even drunk and he was acting like some idiot who got wasted and called his ex. He moved the phone from his ear and started to tap the “end” button when the ringing buzz ended, replaced but a soft but somehow beautiful sigh.

“Dante?” He hadn’t even placed the speaker back to his ear, frozen in place. Her voice was heavy with sleep; she had been out for a few hours. Maybe Nick wasn’t there after all. Maybe she told him no and sent him packing. His heart soared in a renewed hope for a second, unfreezing his stone limbs.

“Dante, if this is a joke, it isn’t funny. I’m trying to sleep.”

He placed the device back to his ear. “No, no. Don’t hang up.” He sucked in a breath as he heard the grumble of a male voice, jaw clenching as he made out something along the lines of, “are you kidding me? Hang up on him. It’s almost three in the morning, babe.”

Lady ignored him. For now. “Then, what do you want? Not all of us can survive on a few hours of sleep and naps throughout the day.”

“I...” He paused. He couldn’t tell her. Not with that fucker so close to her. Probably listening like the creep he was. “Can you come over?”

“Now? Seriously, Dante?” Her voice had softened, though, the sound soothing him. She could sense his distress. His voice lacked the bravado it normally possessed no matter how hard he tried to sound normal. “Can it wait until tomorrow?”

No, he had to do it now. If he waited, he would lose his nerve. “It’s urgent, Lady. I wouldn’t ask this of ya if it wasn’t important.”

Another sigh, the shift of springs. A protest from her bed mate. “Promise me it will be quick. I’ll be there soon.”

He clicked the phone off and returned it to his pocket. Common sense told him this whole thing was stupid. Ridiculous and juvenile. But he just...had to tell her. Get it off his chest. Maybe she felt the same after all. Maybe she had been waiting for him to tell her this after all these years because she didn’t know how to say it herself. Maybe he would ditch Nick and he his. Maybe...

He was getting ahead of himself. One step at a time. He needed to control his hopes, but, as the sound of a car parking up front and boots climbing the stairs reached his ears, he knew he was failing miserably at it. His heart beat picked up a hundred-fold as he stood up and watched her walk in the door.

“So, what’s so important that you had to drag me out of bed at two in the morning?” Her short, raven locks were disheveled from sleep, and she hadn’t bothered to change out of the shorts and tank top she wore to bed (though she did take the time to put on a bra, much to his dismay). She wore her usual boots, which to some would look horrendous, but to Dante, she looked like a goddess standing there. He was only snapped back to his mission when she yawned and raised her left hand to cover her mouth. The light glinted off the diamond and he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"There's something I gotta tell you. I needed to a long time ago but I was too chicken.” He studied her face as she quirked a brow in question. He rememorized every detail from the shape of her crimson and blue eyes, the pearlescent scar across her nose, the rosy tint of the full lips he longed to plant his on. He rested his hands on her shoulders.

“Lady...I...I love you.”

He couldn’t read her face in that moment. It flashed from surprise to confusion to annoyance and cycled through each emotion in rapid succession. Her lips parted and closed several times as she searched for the right words to say.

“W-what?”

“I love you.” He spoke more firmly this time. The words felt so natural. Tasted better than anything on his tongue. He felt drunk on the emotion in that moment, high on the decades old weight lifted from his shoulders.

“Dante...how? Why?” Before he could tighten his grip on her, she slipped away from him and took a few steps backward. His high crashed and burned as he saw unshed tears shine in her eyes. His heart felt heavy again, and his throat closed off. He felt as though his muscles would fail him at any second.  

“Lady, I had to tell you. Finally get it off my chest. I’ve felt this way forever and--”

“No.” She held up her hand and shook her head. Her tears escaped her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. Her voice trembled. “No. No no. You can't do this to me, Dante. Not now.”

Lady stepped back to the door and his body lurched forward of its own accord. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and held fast. “Please, Lady. Just hear me out. You mean the world to me and I wish I had told you sooner but-”

“But you had to wait until someone else showed up? Until I gave up on you and tried to start my life? A halfway normal life?”

He could feel his heart ripping itself to shreds as a mocking voice chanted, “You’re too late” over and over in his head. His grip slackened, and she took full advantage of it, ripping her hand from his grip. He swallowed and fought his own tears. Whoever would have thought a woman would ever make him feel so low or make him cry?

“Lady...”

“Save it, Dante.” She scoffed and swiped her hand beneath her eyes, over her cheeks, clearing them of tears. She coughed out a short laugh, the sound bitter and too high. “What did you expect to happen when I got here? That I would just give up everything and get with you?” Her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“I waited too long for you, Dante...I’m getting old. I couldn’t, wouldn’t wait forever.”

He was paralyzed. She was right. Had he really expected that? That this would end like a fairy tale? He knew better; his life was the exact opposite. How could he possibly expect a happy ending?

His emotions went into damage control mode. He went numb. He shut off his anger. His sadness. His regret. He was a monster, he reminded himself. Monsters didn’t love, and they certainly didn’t deserve love.

“You’re right.” He finally managed. He brushed his fingers through his hair and turned his back on her, ignoring her sniffle and choked sob. “I’m sorry for bringing you over here. Go get some sleep.”

Dante lowered himself on the couch and closed his eyes. “I gotta get to bed myself, anyway. Early job.” He fought the urge to open his eyes when he didn’t hear her move immediately. To run over and scoop her into his arms. To kiss her and beg her to be with him. Or at least not to hate him for being so stupid all these years and only just now getting the nerve to tell her. His fingers curled around the bottom of the couch to keep him latched to the leather cushions.

He heard her sigh, a shuddering sound. “Goodnight, Dante.”

Finally, boots cleared the rest of the wood floor to the door. He winced as it creaked open and clicked shut. Blue eyes opened to stare at the ceiling, filled with bitter tears. He felt as though everything in him had been sucked out of him, a mere shell lying abandoned on his couch. But the pain...he could still feel that. And it hurt worse than any sword thrust through his guts.