#happened in these three and OH BOY SHIT IS NOT GOING TO DE-ESCALATE MUCH BY EP 12 WHEW IT'S GONNA KEEP GOING

[olessan]

Re: TLovM episodes 3x07-3x09

[hexalene]

Looks like you average 175 calls a day! :O

Depending on your shift length that's about 20 calls an hour, dang. I've heard 911 inbound calls are very mentally taxing, sometimes. How do you handle it?

It depends!

There’s kind of a mentality you develop doing this, which is that there is no closure. Once the line has disconnected, it’s over, you’ll never know what happens next.

It gets easier to compartmentalize. There are a good number of calls I think about a lot, but for the most part I let myself forget them.

As for the bad calls, I take breaks. My center has a policy that if you need a break, you take a break, it doesn’t matter how much the phones are ringing, if you need to step away, step away. This helps A LOT. I can go outside or to a private room and breathe, cry, talk it out, whatever I need.

If I’m being really really honest, I can compartmentalize terrible emergency calls a lot better than other difficult calls. With the emergencies, I do whatever I can to help and close the call knowing I’ve done all I can.

The calls I have trouble with are the people who call to verbally abuse us and the mental health frequent fliers, who also call to verbally abuse us in a different flavor. These suck because they’re just on the line to scream, cuss, threaten, and abuse you until you confirm there’s no emergency (and they’ll avoid letting you know if there is one to keep you on the line).

But even those? They’re fine. I might be annoyed with them, but they don’t know who I am and I don’t take the insults personally. It’s just exhausting to see a particular phone number in the queue and be like “oh boy, time to take my headset off because Jane Schizophrenia is about to call and scream as loud as she can into the microphone.” Or worse, to be answering in succession and be shocked when the scream belts out at full blast.

But again, even that? Not that bad.

There’s a LOT of talk about how awful the job can be and how not many people can do it, but honestly?? I think a lot more people could handle this job than they think.

Like bruh have you worked in an abusive retail environment for shit-tier pay and stayed calm while a 45 year old woman with a cropped haircut screams for the manager? Have you gotten into an argument with a coworker and managed to de-escalate it without mediation?

Have you successfully been in behavioral health therapy and have a good regimen of SSRIs, ADHD meds, anxiety pills, or all three (guess who) and can hold off the big emotions until you’re in a safe environment?

You’ll be fine. You can do 911.

[emletish-fish]

Random Cobra Kai thought about Robby and Johnny; accidental hurts.

These two!

I just realised that most of their ‘oh shit’ character moments/ pivotal moments in the plot come from these two accidentally/unintentionally hurting people, normally each other.  

Johnny in season 1, realising how toxic all the cobra kai stuff was, and how it resulted in Robby getting hurt during the tournament. 

 Robby in season 2, kicking Miguel over the balcony. (I will defend this boy til the end of time! What happened at the school was an accident). 

 Johnny in season three, not having any defensive moves and hurting Robby. (Once again, total accident). 

(Jeez, I just realised that for two ‘hotheads’, they both tried to de-escalate the situation at the end of season 2, and 3. and they both failed miserably)

For all that Johnny tried to hurt Daniel deliberately, the most devastating injuries he ended up giving were to Robby, entirely on accident.  the defining moment of Robby’s youth, the thing that really begins to send him down a wrong path (even more than the neglect and Daniel’s rejection) is accidentally hurting Miguel and the consequences of that (no one is becoming their best self in a juvenile detention facility). 

I don’t quite know where I’m going with this. I don’t know if the writers are going anywhere with this. But I just think it is interesting that these two drive so much of the action completely on accident, and neither of them ae well equipped to deal with the consequences.  Their stories are mirrors and parrallels and reflections of each other, and...

If Johnny could just... step up and reach out... if he could show Robby he really cares and make amends to him... Maybe Robby could somehow make peace with what he did/who he became, and he’d be better able to find balance.  

Just these two get me emotional.  

[egelantier]

Tian Guan Ci Fu

where is it and what is it

it’s a chinese webnovel by mxtx, the same author who did untamed; it exists as a webnovel, finished and kindly translated here, the manhwa, the donghua (animated adaptation) happening right now, and there’s a live action adaptation in plans, directed by the same guy who did untamed. the donghua is gorgeous, the adaptation i’m unsure about but prepared to be hopeful, the manhwa seems to be very pretty. but all the adaptations only cover the very beginning of the novel for now, so i went ahead and read the novel, and i have no regrets. it helps that the translation is very good - not without awkward translatorese, but it has consistent and engaging flow and style, and it’s also pretty good at conveying mxtx’s humor without awkwardness. it reads pretty well.

what’s it about?

the world is split into two parts: mortals and various ghosts and demons and entities share the land, while ‘heaven officials’, aka gods, live in the heavenly kingdom in the sky. pretty much anybody can become a god if they do something really heroic or memorable and/or cultivate (meditation, training, virtuous behavior) really hard. when above, the gods rule their domains and fulfill their believers’ wishes; they work sort of like pratchettian gods, dependent on their followers’ beliefs and getting influenced by them. heavens are strictly hierarchical, with their own economy and pecking order, and the gods aren’t particularly sinless or benevolent; mostly it’s a question of scale.

our hero, xie lian, is a prince of a prosperous kingdom who’s been on a fast track to ascension for most of his very short life; he’s talented, he’s virtuous, he’s kind, he’s strong, and his only peculiar flaw is (somehow naive, but well-meaning) obsession with equality and value of human lives and so on. he becomes a god, unexpectedly, at seventeen, after slaying one especially dangerous god, and rises in heaven at the peak of his faith, influence and happiness.

…and then he finds out about drought and incipient trouble in his own kingdom, and, being a young and righteous god too close to his mortality, eschews heavens and returns to save everybody. it, to put it lightly, does not go well. at all. in fact, it goes catastrophically wrong, and, having lost everything, xie lian ascends again, only to get into a fight with the heavenly emperor, and get banished again, this time for good. he roams the mortal lands for next eight hundred of very lonely, luckless and hard years, technically immortal but not invincible, with his powers and his luck stripped away, and leans to make do, eking out a living as a scrap collector. his temples are desecrated, his name is forgotten, his kingdom is long gone, and - well. so it goes.

so it goes! until one day, to everybody’s great surprise, he ascends once again: a humble, gentle, immune to embarrassment, unflappable man, an embarrassment to heavens, a 'laughingstock of three realms’ who just wants to be left well enough alone. he’s Tired.

instead of rest, he gets sent to investigate a dangerous ghost stealing brides who pass through its mountain, and there, during the course of the interrogation, has his first (he thinks) meeting with a terrifying, old-powerful and vengeful ghost king named hua cheng, who likes to terrorize heavens from time to time. but said ghost king seems to be very benevolent and very interested in helping xie lian, and xie lian is pretty instantly smitten… with knowing what’s the cause of such interest.

…and meanwhile, in the beginning, there'was an unlucky boy, born under the worst stars, whom xie lian saved from falling once, while still mortal, and promptly lost track of. a lot of things happened to this boy, who wanted to be the most devoted worshipper to xie lian the god of the sword and the flower. as one does, you know.

that’s the beginning! from there on: investigations, heavenly secrets, old friends and enemies and acquaintances, thematic parallels, old tragedies, more pining than you can shake a stick at, grand acts of love.

is it good?

it’s very, very good. it’s the first fantasy cnovel i read (aside from the hilarious one about a guy traveling back in his own timeline and becoming a sugar baby to a mafia boss, which was in a very different league), so i don’t know which things are baseline and which things are unique, but it had a very solid foundation: ambitious multilevel, multi-timeline plot coming together in the end both events- and emotions-wise, beautifully iddy main relationship, maybe multifaceted characters who change and grow and clash together in fun ways, a clear and heartfelt understanding of its own core themes.

it’s also, unexpectedly, very funny, in this visual, slapsticky, begs-to-be-adapted way - i found myself laughing out loud over it a lot of times, and it possesses this gift of swerve between understated but earnest emotions and all-out jokes that i associate with… a bit of prattchett and a bit of gintama, honestly. take it as you will.

(oh my god the mecha. i will laugh over this one until i die.)

it also made me cry several times; granted, it’s not like it’s this time, but those were very heartfelt tears.

and the main duo?

first let me say that xie lian was lifted out, wholesale, out of my deepest character preferences. he fell really, really far, and did some bad things, and some very horrible things were done to him, and by the time we meet him he went through everything and achieved this effortless kind of traumatized, humble, accepting, wryly self-deprecating, utterly competent chill that makes a character incredibly appealing to me. he’s kind, and he’s sweet, and he’s gotten any possible embarrassment at least a couple of centuries ago, and he kinda made peace with himself and kinda didn’t. i love him.

and, thankfully for me, hua cheng, the ghost king, loves him a whole damn lot, a ridiculous amount, an epic, over-the-lifetimes, life-shattering amount, and he’s a terrifying presence to everybody else and a shy, protective, sweet dork to xie lian, and every time they’re together on page my entire heart is just. it’s AMAZING. he’s a great combination of playing the obsessive protective yandere stalker-lover trope straight and putting it on its head, by making hua cheng not just revere but respect xie lian, in all his good and bad decisions.

they are just so - good for each other, holy shit. they get each other so well. they’re the best ever power team. i love them.

(the rest of canon is various character reenacting “really? in front of my salad?” meme at them. it’s hysterical, and it’s the best. everybody teams up to tell xie lian that his boyfriend is Problematic way, way before xie lian clues into the fact that he does have a boyfriend, and he’s having none of it. i love it.)

and the themes?

okay, so. roughly half of this novel is ridiculous iddy pining, and a fourth of it is various tropes (off the top of my head: soulbond, sex pollen, body switch, de-age, various shades of identity porn… crossdressing…) played very shamelessly. but it also really benefits from having an overarching set of ethical questions, and while it deals with them a bit shounen-style, it still deals with them, and it makes the whole text fresh, and sweet, and bold.

is it possible to save everybody? should you try to save everybody? if you lack the powers to back your convictions, does it make you complicit? when is it possible to stop the cycle of suffering, what can you do if you want to but can’t? if you tried and people you failed turned on you, whose fault it is, where does the blame stop?

Detailed spoilers begin from here, and i would REALLY advise to stay unspoiled, because the domino reveals are very fun

i loved the various ways the novel sets all those pieces up and then overturns them and then returns to them. xie lian wanted to save everybody and it was arrogant naivete of an untried, untested, privileged young man who never had a real challenge before; his presence made things escalate quicker, and yet everybody around him pretended it was his attempt to make things better that ruined everything, and not a combination of factors outside of his control. and yet he accepts the blame, because it dovetails with his shame at not having enough powers to back his intent up; and yet his triumph over bai wuxian is that he doesn’t, after all, renege on his initial drive to help people.

my most favorite part of this novel is that its turning point, the lynchpin of the whole novel, the moment that keeps xie lian’s soul and safety intact, is not his personal purity and drive; it’s not even hua cheng’s devotion and sacrificial love. it’s just a moment of little, grudging, human kindness from a little, petty, rude man whom the history will sweep away soon. the bamboo hat in the rain. the rest of the plot keeps twisting and turning and coming back to itself, but this? this was unquestionably, beautifully clear, and i loved it. it’s never about the gods, it’s all down to - fallen human is human, ascended human is human, and human is not some state, virtuous or sinful, you get stuck with - it’s a multitude of choices, and there’s never a final one.

and incoherent spoilery screaming for people who read it already

oh my god i had SO MUCH FUN. i’ve been flailing on meme for days, because somebody just finished reading there too, and i’m still bursting with ALL THE FEELS. ruoye origins oh my god! that hat! jin wu’s backstory and ultimate end! e-ming’s praise kink! pei ming’s little shippery 'hoho’! hua cheng’s horribly handwritten stick and poke tattoo of xie lian’s name! the lanteeeeeeeeeeeeerns. feng xin and mu qing on the bridge, making up with each other and with xie lian! hua cheng trying to explain to xie lian that his habit of using himself as bait and pincushion at any given moment is deeply emotionally upsetting to him, and succeeding! banyue’s learning from xie lian to be a truly horrible cook! the entire deal with shi qingxuan and he xuan and the wind fan in the end. THE CAVE. THE GIANT MECHA. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and i am beset, beset by feelings. come scream with me.

[hewwocopter]

As Fate Would Have It

MK has doubts about his soulmate, but he’s certain that it’ll work out for the best.

Until he meets him.

On Ao3 (2112 words)

Soulmates were thought highly of in society.

Their customs were normally respected. If one wanted to cover their soulmark with an article of clothing, so be it. It was for the owner’s eyes only.

It had led MK to cover his right wrist with a bandana not unlike his headband.

He knew what it said. Many nights had his fingers traced over the words, longing to hear his soulmate’s voice. Even if they were to yell at him.

Because, he presumed, that was probably what they were going to do, considering the nature of his sentence.

He laid in his bed, fiddling with the bandana. It had been a long day at work today, and it was still slightly damp from the sweat his arms had accumulated from noodle deliveries.

Ah, well.

MK slipped the band off, already knowing what he would see.

Get off me, you idiot!

What gratifying first words, right?

It seemed as though their relationship would have a rocky start. MK knew this, he was fine with it.

He was good at getting people to open up, Pigsy proved that fact. What once was a grumpy pig who nearly called the cops on MK for being too rambunctious in the streets…

Well…

Now he was a grumpy pig man who had hired that rambunctious street child. When the man saw that MK needed a place, he took him in.

So yeah, MK could probably handle his soulmate. Plus, they were his soulmate- the one destined for him. So they would eventually like each other, even if they started off hating each other, right?

There was always that small voice in the back of his head that told him to doubt. That no matter what, his soulmate would reject him. They would hate him. That his strength was also his weakness. MK’s energy was just too much, he was way too over the top.

But he had to keep hope. He seared that sentence into his brain, knowing that they were out there. That they were alive, and that there was hope.

…Probably.

A yawn edged its way up his throat, causing MK to stretch and fall back into his bed.

He’d just have to see how it went, he supposed. MK had no way of knowing for certain.

Deciding that his energy was best spent on sleeping instead of debating with himself, he set his Monkey King themed alarm clock to its usual time and slipped under the blankets, his eyes quickly sliding shut.

—

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

MK’s arms wobbled dangerously as he balanced precariously on the pipes of the sewer system.

Maniacal laughter echoed from beneath him, as green smoke erupted from the mountain. The Demon Bull King had been freed.

Son of a…

If his life were a show, this definitely would qualify as one of those record-scratch-freeze-frame moments, saying ‘hey, you’re probably wondering how I got here’.

He knew damn well how he got here. He was delivering noodles like a good delivery boy, although he was supposed to be on his break, which also begged the question:

Who ordered noodles in a sewer?! Where were the construction workers?!

How was he holding on this long?!

Although MK was surprised he hadn’t lost his grip yet.

The strange bird glanced over at him again, with a mischievous glint in its golden eyes.

His luck had been pushed to the limit with that last thought, it seemed.

He glowered, but wasn’t about to give up yet. MK waved the bird off. “No, shoo, go away!”

It hopped closer despite his warnings.

MK’s eyes only widened as what happened before him transpired in slow motion. The bird bent down and began to peck.

The incessant poking at his hand causing his grip to falter, and MK to become more panicked. Before he could shoo the bird away, he finally lost his grip and-

“No, no, no- aaaaaaaaugh!”

MK slipped.

Luckily his twenty to thirty foot fall was softened by his landing, which was on top of- oh, oh shit. He was going to die.

Before he could properly process that reaction, the giant Demon Bull King stomped up to him.

Their eyes gleamed an eerie green, casting a dark shadow onto his surroundings.

In this sort of situation, seeming it was a live or die one of the sort, MK decided he should probably de-escalate it. He let out a nervous chuckle, and lifted the noodle bag.

“Someone ordered some noodles?”

There was an awkward pause, as the villains stared at him, seemingly not expecting that reaction- they probably thought he’d be terrified- which he was, but sometimes his stupidity outweighed his sensibility.

A low growling rumbled from beneath, and MK flinched as the boy under him began to struggle, his hair flickering with flames.

“Get off me, you idiot!”

MK’s heart stopped, but only for a moment as he was sent flying and it was thumping wildly once more. While it was because of the actions occurring at the moment, what the boy- Red- had said also had a part in it.

Did he just-?

The boy tumbled to the ground, grunting.

“Do you know what you just did?” He turned to face MK fully, snarling. “You ruined my moment!”

MK could hardly process what the family was saying. Red Son- that was his name, probably- he had said what was on his wrist.

That right there was his soulmate.

He blinked, as a shadow was suddenly cast over him. MK visibly shrunk back as he saw that DBK was about to squish him, oh dear gods. All because he had zoned out over…

Speaking of. The boy slid in front of him, halting his father’s murder in progress. Thank goodness.

“Wait, father.” Red Son placed a hand on DBK’s heel, nudging him away.

MK’s eyes widened at the sight. Was he sparing him?

Then another stuttering thought.

Did he know?

He hadn’t said anything to the boy, had he? All he had done was scream so far.

“What is this?”

“Waste not your energy on this peasant. Please, allow me to show you how powerful I have become in your absence!”

MK drooped, and he nearly face-palmed. Great, so now my soulmate is going to kill me!

“As you wish.”

Well, fuck this. MK was going to escape, call the cops, then buy ice cream and cry over the fact that his soulmate was a villain. That probably hated him, considering the fact he was going to kill him.

MK turned away slowly, and began crawling away. Only halting at the sound of Red Son’s voice, internally cursing himself that he was caught.

“In some ways, you’re very fortunate, noodle boy.” Now Red Son was smiling, and were those fangs?

Oh gods, that was hot.

The thought ran through his mind a few more times before MK realized what it was, his face flaring red before he could stop it.

Are you kidding me?! Evil soulmate who hates me, and now I go and think he’s hot?!

No, no, he could not let himself get attracted to that. MK rapidly accelerated his inching away, only backwards now, only to bump into a pole, now lying discarded on the concrete.

A voice in the back of his mind whispered the truth of what it really was.

Monkey King’s staff…?

“Not many insects are lucky to be stamped out by the Demon Bull family-“ His eyes narrowed, probably at the boy’s expression which by now was a deep cherry red. “Are you even listening to me?!”

Yes and no. Red Son’s voice had no right being that hot, smoky yet matter of fact. But MK was too distracted by the staff, as well as escaping to properly pay attention to what he was articulating.

Where had these feelings even come from…?

The boy growled. “I, Red Son, will not be disrespected! You’re history!”

He raised his gauntlet, igniting it with his flames and rushed towards the delivery boy who was still stuck in his internal panic. MK’s eyes snapped up as he realized just what was going on.

Oh fuck-

MK instinctively grabbed the first thing near him- the staff- and raised it in front of him as his defense.

A loud clanging noise echoed throughout the chambers, along with a huge gust of wind.

“N-no way.” MK’s eyes peeked open upon hearing the other’s disbelief at him not being dead. “How could you possibly lift Monkey King’s staff?!” Red Son backed away from him, eyes wary but wide.

MK could only stare at the staff in awe, nothing else registering in his brain.

Red Son stammered. “I- I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m about to end it! That staff is mine!”

MK was snapped out of his trance at the appearance of the Bull clones and DBK. He let out a little whimper- one villain he could take on but fifty?! “I’m supposed to be on my breeEEEAAK!”

He swung the staff in a wide arc, a golden light erupting from the motion towards the enemies.

Through the brightness, MK saw Red Son’s expression pale, although that could have been the light. His mouth was slack jawed, eyes wide, and then he was struck with the incredible power of the staff, sent flying.

The bull clones retreated, but the superiors managed to stay standing. Oh crap, I just managed to piss off a bunch of powerful villains. I’m so dead.

“Aah,” He stumbled for an explanation, “That was way more explosive than I expected.” He then coughed, some of the soot (?) from the explosion (?!) having found its way onto his face.

A thud from Princess Iron Fan’s weapon caused the boy to jump. From her expression, he could tell that the woman was not happy.

MK gulped, and began to thrust the staff around wildly, hoping to scare her off. “Stay back! I don’t know how I’m doing this stuff!”

“That staff doesn’t belong to you, little boy. Hand it over.” Like a chiding mother to her child, the woman then held her hand out expectantly. Like she was expecting him to comply.

For a split-second, he considered it. Then promptly threw that thought out the window, because one- these people were villains, two- they were probably going to kill him either way, and three- it was Monkey King’s staff, how could he give it away?!

So MK wasn’t going to comply.

He grasped the staff protectively, holding it up against his cheek. “Mmm… no…?”

That was the moment when the staff chose to wobble, sticking itself into the ground which was absolutely not of MK’s volition that time. “Okay, I didn’t even move that ti-“

The next moment he was up in the air, the staff carrying him away, and all he could do was scream.

—

Red Son pushed some rubble off of himself, his mind still reeling.

“I’m supposed to be on my breeEEEAAK!”

The words replayed in his mind, although they were uttered only a few seconds ago. As Red rubbed at his head, still sore from where he had hit it against the wall, his eyes narrowed in thought.

He couldn’t believe it. The one who plagued his thoughts, the one whose words were written on his left shoulder… it was that stupid noodle boy?!

Son of a bitch.

Fate would have it be this way.

Red had to go after him. One, to beat the everloving shit out of the boy and get the staff. Two, to demand to know why it was him. Why the gods had chosen that stupid idiot for him.

Red Son didn’t need anyone. He had himself and his intelligence, and he deemed that enough. It would get him where he needed to be.

Red Son also wasn’t an idiot. He was a facts person, that much was true. He ran on logic, feelings were just icky and out of place. Predetermined love? Yeah, fuck that. He was his own person, Red Son didn’t need anyone to tell him who to love.

But he had to know.

Noodle Boy had answers.

He halted his father once more, who was in the middle of intensely describing how he would skin the noodle boy alive. “Father, allow me. I won’t fail you a second time.”

“See that you don’t.” He snarled. “My patience is past its end!”

“Of course, father.” Red Son vanished into a plume of fire, only to appear at his vehicle. He quickly hopped in and sped after the boy, already getting a reading on him on his radar.

He was going to get his answers, one way or another.

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXVII

January 13, 2278.

Goddamn, not another killer hangover.

This time, I feel like a dozen brahmin trampled my skull. Never in my centuries of existence did I ever get this wasted. How did I even get home?

Opening my crusty eyes, I see the ceiling of Percy’s home, and looking down, I see Dogmeat lying on my chest, sleeping. I’ve been stripped out of my armor, wearing a clean shirt and pajamas that doesn’t reach my shins, and I feel clean. Damn, did Percy do that? I don’t mind, but I’m not a pretty sight to look at.

Sluggish as hell, I sit up, the dog waking up and giving my face a lick. I can smell something cooking, and damn, it smells good. My stomach grumbles, and I let out an awkward cough.

“Oh hey, Charon. You’re finally awake,” Percy calls out from the kitchenette.

Back turned against me, Percy was stirring something over the stove. I shuffled towards her, and pressed my cheek against the top of her head.

“Mornin’, angel.”

She gives me a soft chuckle. “It’s already the afternoon, big guy.”

Fuck. I slept for that long? “What happened last night?”

“I saw a mountain of a ghoul stumble around drunk in Gob’s Saloon, is what happened,” she replies, a lighthearted tone to her voice.

The events of last night came crashing back to me, and I buried my face in Percy’s hair in embarrassment.

I remember sitting next to Percy in the saloon, nursing my beer as she exchanged ideas with Moira. Half of what they’re talking about sounded out of this world. I can’t make any sense out of it, but it was nice hearing Percy’s voice. It’s good hearing her happy and enthusiastic again.

Then DeLoria’s goddamn voice breaks me out of my focus.

“Yeah? Yeah? I’d like to see you try, old man,” he blurts out from the other side of the bartop. What trouble has he gotten into now? Somehow, my instincts as a bouncer kicks in, and I stand up from my seat to look at what’s going on.

“You’re all bark and no bite, kid. Bet your ass would be on the floor before you can even finish a bottle,” said Jericho, the ex-raider.

Oh, a drinking contest. I thought I had a fight to de-escalate. Grumbling, I was going back to my seat, but DeLoria grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him.

“Well, I bet my buddy Charon and I can outdrink your crusty old ass.”

Boastful idiot. You just had to rope me in, huh?

“How much are you willing to bet, pretty boy?”

“Twenty-five caps,” DeLoria replies, setting it on the table. Laughing, Jericho set his money on the table too. “You’re on, asshole.”

“Hold on a minute, I don’t have caps,” I tell them. “I’m afraid I cannot participate in-”

Before I can even finish, the ex-raider flags Gob over. “Oy, Gob! We’re gonna have a drinking contest ‘ere, bring us more booze.”

Goddammit. I had considered taking a swing at DeLoria, but to my surprise, Percy saunters over with a grin.

A drinking contest huh? I’ve never done one before. Have you ever tried playing, Charon?”

“No. Usually, I’d be the one to break it up when one party’s already slumped on the bar.”

My partner gives me a conspiring grin. “Well, I’d like to try it. C’mon, big guy, let’s show these two how it’s done. We have caps to gain,” Percy replies, taking a seat next to me and tossing in fifty caps in the pile, covering my bet.

Gob set out four shot glasses in front of us, and people were starting to watch. If Percy is here, then I’ll make the most out of it. Maybe I’d end up carrying her tonight again.

Ten shots of vodka later, DeLoria washed out, stumbling off his seat and shaking his head. “Damn, I can’t do this anymore,” he blurts, running to the saloon door and shoving it open. He retches and the crowd bursts into laughter.

“Knew he'd wash out first,” Gob chuckles, refilling our glasses. Percy gently nudges me with her elbow, giggling.

“Hah! And the kid was the one to suggest the challenge too. Asshole,” Jericho mutters. “Just you, me, and the zombie, kid. Can you hold out better?”

“Call Charon a zombie again and I’ll fuck you up so bad, you’ll think getting attacked by a Deathclaw’s a back massage,” Percy slurs, eyes trained on the ex-raider. There was a hint of humor in her voice, but it was sharp; a guarantee that she’d follow through.

“Woooow. The little Vaultie’s finally all grown up, learning to curse like a true waster. First time you showed up in this town you were a pampered baby girl,” Jericho snaps back, snickering.

“And this pampered baby girl just took down the Capital Wasteland’s biggest slaver ring. Don’t try me, gramps. It’s time for the next round.”

That shut him up.

Eleven shots. Twelve. Thirteen. On the fourteenth, Percy raises both arms and shakes her head. “I’m at my limit,” she groans, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“And our amateur abolitionist is out,” Gob announces, taking Percy’s glass away. She slumps towards the bartop, turns to me, and gives me a thumbs up.

“Give ‘em hell, big guy!”

I found myself grinning at her encouragement.

We counted all the way to twenty shots. At that point, Gob was scratching the little skin he had left on his head.

“You two are gonna drink me out of business. Let’s do a tie-breaker,” he suggests. He turns to the shelf, and produces a bottle with green liquor in it. I vaguely remember serving a contract holder who drank that in Vegas and it smelled like death. He pours it in our glasses.

What the hell, is that absinthe? Isn’t he supposed to light that shit up first or something?

“Whoever can take a shot without puking their guts out later wins,” he announces, sliding us the drinks.

Jericho caught a whiff of the alcohol and his face contorts. Staring at the glass, I once again find myself questioning what went wrong in my life for me to get to this point, but I was having fun.

Three, two, one. The ex-raider and I drank the last shot at the same time, and I slammed the glass against the counter. Now the waiting game starts.

By the time it kicked in, I was seeing double, and Jericho fell out of his seat.

“We have a winner! Charon takes home a hundred caps!”

Everything around me is a colorful, rowdy mess. Nudging my shoulder, Percy grins at me and clings onto my arm. The best I could, I gathered the money and slid it towards my partner.

She gives me a questioning look. “Hey, it’s your caps big guy! Spend it on whatever you like,” Percy tells me, beaming, face flushed from the booze.

“Just… just hold on to it for now. Hell, spend it on something nice. I mean it,” I slur, resting my chin atop her head. At that point, I knew there were people whispering and gossiping about our closeness, and Percy probably knows it too, but I just didn’t give a shit anymore. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she let out a soft grunt from the squeeze. My vision isn’t the best at that moment, but I swear I saw the red spread from her face to her neck.

“Okay. If you say so.”

The events after that were a blur. Vaguely, I remember DeLoria almost crawling back in and getting picked on by wasters before Hannibal Hamlin, pulled him into a corner and chatting with him. Moira was deep in conversation with some random waster, and Gob poured himself and Nova a drink, joining the merriment. I’m not sure if my mind had made it up, but the radio was playing some old Pre-War torch song, and I was holding Percy by the waist, shuffling drunkenly and clumsily in a dim corner.

We had a conversation. I’m still trying to remember what it was about.

“How did we get home last night?” I asked her, delicately brushing down her hair that I ruffled when I leaned into her.

“Believe it or not, Butch and I dragged you back. He’s still asleep upstairs.”

Ah. Well, fuck. What a sight that must’ve been.

Looking over her shoulder, I see some kind of brahmin rib stew in the pot. Behind me, I can hear the patter of Dogmeat’s feet. The dog must’ve caught a whiff of that, too. On the unoccupied part of the stove, there was toasted bread slathered with brahmin butter. I’d never thought I’d be grateful to still have my sense of smell and taste. Even after all that binge drinking from last night, my dry mouth started to water.

“You said that I could spend your winnings on something nice,” Percy quips, shaking me out of the memory of the night before. “So, I made us a nice lunch. Get the bowls out for me, please?”

“How could you even cook while nursing a hangover?” I muttered as I fetched the bowls.

“Good old salt, sugar, and water,” said Percy as she ladled the stew. “Get these to the table and I’ll make some more for you.”

“Thanks, angel.”

I could practically picture Percy rolling her eyes at the nickname as she reached for the green pitcher at the top of the shelf, her laughter soft.

I set the food down on the coffee table, the broken television that once occupied it gone, salvaged for parts months ago. Meanwhile, my partner goes up the stairs to wake our guest up. DeLoria drags his feet, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Then, he sets his eyes on me. His hair is a goddamn mess, unlike the pomaded hairstyle he usually wears, and I couldn’t fight the urge to snicker.

“Oh. Hey. You were a bitch to carry back,” he mumbles, taking a bowl. He carves the meat out of the rib, slaps it on the bread, and eats. Percy joins us soon after, bringing a pitcher of the hangover cure.

I took a bite out of the food and fuck, this might be too luxurious for me.

“You should open a diner after you’re done kicking ass, Perce,” Butch comments offhandedly, using the bread to wipe the sauce off the bowl.

“I’d rather run a clinic, honestly.”

The two chattered idly, and Dogmeat was having his share of food as well, unseasoned scraps of meat and a bone to gnaw on. My focus shifts back to the two when Percy nudges me.

“What do you think, Charon? Should we bring Butch with us to Lamplight?”

“No. There’s no room on the bike.”

“Aw c’mon, you’ll draw attention to yourselves on that bike, plus you’ll need someone to watch your stuff from the kids.”

“Well, we could use a pack mule,” Percy comments, and Butch flips her the bird. “Hey, you said you’d watch our stuff for us.”

“Yeah, watch the stuff, not carry it or somethin’.”

Percy and Butch bickered for the rest of the afternoon as we prepared for our journey. Coupled with my hangover, the more I hear them chatter, the more annoyed I get. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t amusing.

DeLoria’s still an obnoxious asshole, and I’m still figuring out what I feel for Percy, but hearing Percy crack jokes and exchange jabs with her childhood friend brings me some reassurance that things will be fine.

Snow was heavier than ever. The clothes Moira gifted us came in handy as we started our trek to our destination. Aside from the odd raider and mole rats loitering about, we faced no real danger on the road, much to my relief. Aside from protecting Percy, I have to look after the dog and Butch too.

I’m not letting what happened in Anacostia repeat itself.

We travelled fairly fast, but it was too deep in the night to continue any further. Making camp in an old power substation. As I cleared the fallen furniture and the debris, Butch unfurls the bedrolls, while Percy looted the place clean, starting with the first aid box, thorough as ever. We didn’t eat dinner. The meal we had this afternoon was more than enough to keep us from going hungry tonight.

Falling asleep swiftly, DeLoria’s back is turned to the wall, snoring. Percy lies in the middle, eyes closed, but I know she’s not asleep yet. I lie facing the door, keeping watch.

Fabric shifts next to me as Percy sits up. “Hey. We never got to finish the first book I was reading you.”

“Which one?”

“White Fang. The one with the wolfdog on the cover.”

Ah. She’s right. I fell asleep at the last chapter of the book as she read to me months ago, and we never picked it back up, moving on to another one.

“I have it with me in my pack. Do you want to finish it?”

“Gladly.”

Leaning against the wall, Percy reads as I nudged her clothed thigh with my head. Voice soft so she wouldn’t wake Butch up, she continued narrating what became of the wolfdog, the main character in the story.

After being ripped away from his mother and caring human, enduring Beauty Smith’s cruelty, and learning to trust his new human companions, White Fang finally lived. He lived an idyllic, carefree life, surrounded by puppies and sleeping under the sun.

In some ways, the wolfdog reminds me of myself. But unlike him, I didn’t have any masters to serve anymore, and got a partner instead.

Now, the only thing that’s missing is the happy ending.

But that doesn’t exist in real life, doesn’t it? Not in this shitsack world. So I’ll take any comfort that I can get, and right now, having Percy beside me is exactly that.

Fine. The dog too. And maybe Butch.

My eyelids growing heavy, I drifted asleep.

This time, the dreams didn’t have pain in it. Maybe it’s because of the book, or just plain stupid wishful thinking in my part, but I dreamt of Percy and I.

I dreamt of the world before it was ravaged by radiation, the waters of the ocean reflecting the blue sky above us. We’re on a beach in California, and a child collects seashells near the shore.

Just like I did when I was a child.

Beside me, Percy plops down a basket of food, hiding under the beach umbrella while I bask in the sun.

“Son! It’s time for lunch! Charon, will you fetch him, please?”

I smiled at my wife and shook the dust off me to get our boy. He laughs and shrieks as I carry him, seashells in his arms.

Looking down at the clear waters, I see myself. Thick red hair. Clear blue eyes.

Untarnished.

If only.

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Ghosts from the rain forest

Summary: A simple rescue mission will bring him back to a place full of nightmares, and maybe this time he could find redemption. Situated in 1975, 2 years after the events of Skull Island.

James Conrad x Reader

Warnings: Violence, blood, wounds, mentions of war, cursing, implied smut, angst.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 2: Hilmi

Even when you were more than happy in the jungle in the middle of nowhere, and not having to deal with people, you couldn't deny that Bandar Seri Begawan was in fact a beautiful place, and the market of Tamu Kianggeh was always nice to walk through.

You have chose to take one more day in the city before your medicine shipment arrived tonight, and see the city some more, you even had chosen to dress up different and use one of the many dresses you bought but never use, it was nice to play the tourist for a change, even when the last time you were there you end up picking up a fight with some vendors and being stubborn enough that they end up humorously calling you Himli, that means peaceful or polite.

That's when you saw him, trying to buy some fruit from one of those sketchy vendors you have a love/hate relationship with, he was to put it on one word stunning, his dark blonde hair, perfect baby blue eyes, or maybe was the shirt he was wearing that make them bright that much, and the afternoon shadow over a perfectly sharp jawline. American maybe, after they left the country alone three years ago they have been popping up everywhere as tourists.

"That's a lot of money for a simple piece of fruit" He said to the vendor in a perfect British accent.

"Liying to tourists again Zikri?" You said in an authoritarian voice approaching them "You really are a menace"

"Ah Himli" He said part annoyed part happy to see you. "One can no longer make a decent way of living because you have to come and criticize me"

"Ten ringgits for a mango is decent?" The man said and you loved Zikri's shocked face.

"There there Prince Charming" You said winking at him "I'll buy your mangoes, just stay away from this man" you gave Zikri the 20 rn, and give the two pieces of fruit to the stranger. "Consider it a welcome to the island gift."

"Thank you, Himli was it?" He smiled at you with what of course was a perfect smile and you forgot to tell him your actual name "James Conrad" He offered you his hand.

"I prefer prince charming" You smiled back at him and shake the hand he offered you. "Aren't you a little far from your island?"

"A little, not as much as you, are you american?"

"From birth maybe, but haven't been there in ages, is way better here" You said honestly. "First time?"

"I have been before, actually, but it was not that great then, although 'm quite enjoying my visit so far this time" he gave you a look that you haven't recieved in a long time, a more than welcome look by the way.

"Do you want a beer?" You said to him and point to a near bar that you like, it was 5:00 pm and you have time until 10:00 at least, to pick up the cargo, "Do British play darts?"

"I'm better at pool, but sure let's go" he said and you walked him to the bar.

A couple of beers later and a lot of bad jokes next to the pool table and you were already cursing yourself because you have to go back to the middle of nowhere the next morning, and he was going to stay there with al his beautiful self alone.

A couple minutes later he was teaching you how to play, and the electricity that run through your back when he hold you in his arms was enough to make you lost touch with reality. By the time your mind tried to wake you up, you were already kissing against his hotel door, and by that time there was not much else to do, apart from opening the door and let your burning clothes fall to the ground and follow the pure instinct that was driving you.

"James we are ready" a young man voice said from the other side of the door hours later and make you wake up from the sheets you were covered with.

"Thanks Slivko, I'll be out in a minute" James said and make a shh sing to you with his long perfect finger.

"What time is it?" You said quietly, smiling at him and the sweet puppy eyes he have trying to make you stay in bed.

"Hey Reg, what time is it?" He asked the boy on the other side.

"Almost nine man, we are waiting, I'll be at the lobby."

"Fuck" you said standing up and quickly taking up your clothes "I'm so sorry, but I have to leave, this was... amazing. Thank you"

"You have nothing to thank for, if anything you have become my single happiest memory from this place" He said with dark shadow crossing his eyes and you were dying to ask what he mean but your seller was a dick and you had to flee.

"If you are still here tomorrow I promise you I'll give you a couple more happy memories" you kissed him one more time and walked out of his window, thankfully his room was on the ground.

You ran as fast as you could to put on work clothes, something your seller would respect and not that ridiculous dress. Noah was neither a good nor a bad man, he only followed an strictly business ethic, and for a man who robbed big hospitals to sell medicine and vaccines in the black market he was quite picky about punctuality and respecting previous arrangements, maybe it was just a British thing, you would have to ask James later. You smiled thinking on how well that have gone down, it have been quite some time since you feel like a normal woman, able to have a little romantic afternoon with a handsome man, he was definitely a nice change from the mercenaries you usually hang around.

This was definitely not what you have planned out of your life, you could still remember the you from ten year ago, that who believed she was helping shape the world into a better place by making cultivation practices more efficient, it was a dumb dream now, with all the devastation humanity had caused, especially with all the damage your government had created by using their precious Orange Agent, that's what have finally driven you apart from the big man, the idea that some day one of your creations could end up killing and damaging innocent people. You have seen personally the mutations and illness those substances could produce, and how men only following orders caused that damage without any remorse, that kind of men you truly hate, if there was anything that you couldn't tolerate in this world was soldiers, all of them pretending to be heroes when they were only glorified murderers...

You shake those thoughts out of your head and took the money for Noah in a bag, and walked into the night to the peers. Like always you wanted to be there before he and his man arrived.

"Always a pleasure making business with you Y/N" Noah said counting out the money "And as always my boys are ready to help you carry this precious cargo to its destination" He always made those fake ceremonious remarks that you didn't like. The boys as he called them were already packing the medicine into your truck and would scort you back to Borneo the next morning.

"You are a life saver" you smiled at him as fake as he did.

"Boss we found a rat" one of his man said suddenly appearing from behind one of the many containers that were at the peers, he was using a large gun to push a young looking man towards you, with his hands behind his head.

"What? Who is this little shit?" Noah said suddenly losing his charm "Y/N what are you playing here?" He took you rather harsh from the wrist and start shaking you.

"I haven't see him in my life" You said honestly, trying to make sense out of that bizarre situation. "You are hurting me Noah what the hell?"

"Well then he is just some nasty nobody, kill him" He said to his man, still not letting you go, and you were about to scream him to stop when an angry voice talked from the shadows behind you.

"I wouldn't to that if I were you, we have you surrounded so let the boy and Dr. Y/L/N go" you turned around in shock immediately when you recognize his voice.

"Captain Conrad?" Noah's voice sounded terrified and he let you go immediately and signaled his man to release the boy and then he turned at you total panic "You bring bloody SAS on me Y/N?"

"What? Of course not, wait what do you mean SAS?" You said looking confused at both men, James had come closer to help the young guy.

"Y/N? I thought your name was Hilmi" Now it was Conrad's turn to look confused.

"Would someone explain what the fuck is happening here?" The guy, Slivko was it? Said as confused as you.

"I don't bloody know, but I know this, I'm leaving, boys let the nice Dr. take care of her medicine alone." The five men with the cargo let the boxes on the ground and start walking towards their own vehicle "Please don't call me again" He said looking at you one last time. "Captain" he made one solemn bow to James and almost run out of there.

"What? No, Noah please wait!" But he was already away. "What the fuck is going on?" You turned angry to face Conrad "Did you have any idea of what you just did? And how in hell you knew I would be here? Captain" you said putting a lot of hate in the last word.

"Beg your pardon? How was I supposed to know that you were buying drugs from a bloody mercenary?!" Why the fuck was he angry? He was not going to stay waiting for medicine for a month "And by the way Doctor" Oh very mature Conrad "I thought your name was Hilmi"

"Oh excuse me, your majesty for not going around giving my profession and full name everywhere I go" Then the realization hit you like a lightning "How did you know I was here? You work for that annoying man from DC right?" Oh you were absolutely furious now. "I don't go peacefully when Mr Houston snap his fingers and he send a militar party to get me back, is that it? What if I said no? Are you going to put a gun on my head and force me to walk??"

"I work with Brooks Houston that's true" He started making his voice soft trying to de escalate the situation making you more mad. "But I believe we can found a way you can come back with us"

"Well is settle then" you said sweetening your voice too. "Reg was it?" You said at the boy that still looked pretty confused "Lift with your knees son, some of those boxes are heavy" you pay him on the back and then look back at Conrad "Tell the rest of your men if they are actually surrounding us that we leave at 5" He was about to say something but you were not going to allow it "If I have to come back to America at least I'm going to finish my work first, one month tops, is all I'm saying" He nodded angrily and made sing in the air with his hand and suddenly another 4 men appear and started loading the truck.

You walk away from them back to your hotel furious about the situation, of course he was not really interested in you, he was being paid to lure you back home, how could you be so stupid? You got in the shower and turned on the hot water so you could wash away his touch from your skin, this whole day was a mistake, one you would never make again.

[selenelavellan]

ALSO!: Elgar'nan "loses" Dirthamen and one of his properties in a card game, and now Dirthamen is betrothed to Selene and Mythal is pissed and Elgar'nan wants grandkids and all Selene wanted was to get Des home bc he was too drunk to drive how did she end up as collateral and then suddenly engaged??? It doesn't count once everyone is sober, right? Right??

Drunken Bet Engagement AU

Dirthamen belongs to @feynites

TW for food and alcohol

Selene groans as she rolls over in bed,head pounding, sunlight streaming through her curtains too brightlywhile the buzzer for her apartment door drones on and on.

“M'coming!” She yells, half mumbledwhile she licks her lips and stumbles her way into the closest pairof pants she can find.

She finally manages to get to her frontdoor, pulling it open and glancing up from her partially hunchedposition to see someone who is, probably, the prettiest elfshe's ever seen. Their hair has been perfectly constructed, there'snot even a hint of lint on their perfectly tailored suit, and she'sfairly certain he's not even wearing mascara and that his eyelashesjust look like that, althoughthere's a telling sheen on his lips that reminds her slightly of herown strawberry lip gloss.

Itoccurs to her, briefly, that with her frizzy just-rolled-out-of-bedhair, the undoubtedly dark bags under her eyes, and the fact that shedidn't get a chance to shower when she got home last night, sheprobably looks like she rolled out of an actual dumpster fire incomparison.

“Youmust be here for Des,” She groans, hand running briefly over herforehead. “Just one sec, I'll go get him for you-”

“Iam here for you, actually.” The man says, clearing his throatslightly.

Seleneblinks.

Squints.

Isshe....still asleep?

Hedoes seem vaguelyfamiliar, but her head is still pounding from dehydration too loudlyfor her to think clearly about it.

“Me?”She says, though it sounds more like a squeak at the moment.

Theman nods slowly, and she only now notices the small suitcase behindhim.

Sheopens her mouth to mention it, but is abruptly cut off by the voiceof her roommate.

“Hey, it's pretty boy!” He cheers from behindher, and Selene slumps further against her door frame in a futileeffort to shield herself from the noise.

“Des,please...inside voices, we've discussed this...”

“Tequilahitting you hard in the morning light, babe?” Des teases, gesturingfor the elven man to finally step into their apartment.

He isone of Des's friends then, she supposes. That's fine, she thinks, butif they're planning on moving in with him, they might be in for arude awakening of what sort of relationship Des has with his'friends'.

Shesneaks a water bottle out of the fridge while the pair chat near thedoor, and takes a long, cold drink, peeking at them out of the cornerof her eye. The pretty one seems to be confused about somethingthey're explaining to Des, who lets out a long laugh at the end ofit.

“Selene,what the hell did you do last night?” Des asks, still far, fartoo loud.

“Itook you to that club you begged to go to, you had too much to drink,I tried to get you out and onto a bus home and then....” Selenehums, coming up on a small blank space in her memory. “Somethingabout cards...?”

“Youwere invited to a poker game by the owner,” The pretty man claims.

Selenesquints. “Are you the owner?”

“No...”

That's good,she thinks, he might be here to collect money for propertydamage or something if he were.

“...Myfather is. Elgar'nan Evanuris?”

Memoriesrace back into Selenes head; a long game of poker for free buspasses, escalated up and up and up until...until something big, shethinks.

Shit,what did she bet?

“...Right,”She says evasively. “And that makes you...?”

“DirthamenEvanuris.”

Shenods. “It's nice to meet you.”

Hiseyebrows crease in concern, as he looks at Des, who only puts hishands up in a 'hey dont look at me' manner, before turning back toSelene. “Do you not remember?”

“I...might'vehad a little too much tequila,” She admits. “Care to fill me in?”

“Youbet my father for my hand in marriage,” Dirthamen explains. “And thenyou won.”

Seleneblinks, and shakes her head slowly. “I...what?”

“Yousaid he was pretty,” Des chimes in.  “and then he blushed, andwhen his dad raised the pot he tossed him in because you seemed so prone to making compliments about him. It's nice; you deservepretty things. People,” He makes a vague gesture towards Dirthamen“Him.”

“Howdo you remember this?”

“Ican handle my alcohol.”

“Youcouldn't walk!”

Desjust gives a shrug while Dirthamen drops a familiar pair of car keysinto his hand. “You left these at the club last night. I hope it isalright, I used your vehicle to get here so that I could return it toyou.”

“DidI leave my lip gloss too?” Selene asks, glancing at the familiar sheenof his lips again.

Dirthamensface turns a pale shade of pink. “Ah...yes. I apologize. It smelledvery nice.”

Selenegives a casual shrug, and mumbles into the lip of her water bottle.“S'fine. Suits you.”

“Doyou cook, Dirthamen?” Des drawls, leaning on the other man.

“Abit.”

“Canyou make scrambled eggs?”

Dirthamen gives an affirmative nod,and Selene gives Des a dirty look before quietly adding. “...withcheese, please.”

Thesmell of the cooking eggs begins to fill the apartment, and Selenewatches eagerly as he adds in a few pieces of onion and bits of baconto the pan. It smells so good, and she is sohungry.

“So...”She finally says from across the counter, still watching thisstrange, beautiful man cook her breakfast. “Your dad bet you in apoker game with a stranger and that uh, stuck? Like that'sjust...normal? You go 'ok' and show up next day with a suitcase at myapartment?”

“Ido not know if 'normal' is the most accurate word to use,”Dirthamen muses. “But my father is very adamant about not renegingon his bets, no matter what his sobriety level might have been whenit happened.”

Selenehums as he divides the eggs onto three plates for all of them. “Youknow, I'm not going to make you do something like this against yourwill. I've bet all kinds of crazy things in games before, but onceeveryone's sober it's sort of like a clean slate.”

Heblinks up at her, fork still in his mouth and swallows beforeresponding. “...I do not think I would mind following through onthis bet.”

Selenecan feel her face flush while Des lets out a laugh beside her. “Man,your family life must be like, reallyfucked up.”

“Des!”She hisses, elbowing him lightly in the side.

“Itmight be,” Dirthamen shrugs all the same. “I do not have verymuch to compare it to, other than television shows and movies which Ihave been assured are very rarely true to life.”

Selenefrowns, still staring at the man across the counter from her. Someonejust desperate for a way to get away from their family is...certainlysomething she can relate to. She can't just send him back,right? What if something like this happens again and he ends upsomewhere worse? Maybe she doesn't have to marry him, but they couldjust like...be friends, probably. Give him a safe place to stay, hemight be able to help out with money issues, it could be good foreveryone.

“Alright,”She decides. “You can stay here. There's no pressure or anythingabout the marriage part of the bet though, ok?”

Hiseyes widen as they dart between his suitcase and Selene a few timesbefore he slowly nods in agreement.

Selenesnot sure what is meant by the movement, until Des grins beside her,leaning forward and asking Dirthamen “You brought a ring, didn'tyou?”

Henods again. “The paperwork necessary for legal marriage in thisarea, also.”

Selenenearly chokes on her eggs.

Ohman.

She'snever going drinking with Des again.

[sensationalscenarios]

[Dépaysement]

original requests can be found here

based on SF9 as: Mafia au found here  

i’m not 100% satisfied with it but i didnt wanna keep yall waiting any longer so after five hundred years i present to you mafia!taeyang; 

+ admin L

    “Dépaysement—n. When someone is taken out of their own familiar world into a new one.”

    Taeyang whistled cheerfully as he made his way towards Mr. Chung’s offices to collect his debt. Youngbin had already done Mr. Chung the kindness of extending his deadline by three days, but with today being his last day and no payment in sight, well Youngbin was not pleased. Taeyang hoped he would be able to use his bat today and rough him up some since his previous jobs had been rather uneventful. Very few would dare to miss a payment for the Red Dragons, and if they did they simply hadn’t meant Taeyang yet.

    He winked at a group of girls walking past him, smiling to himself as he heard their giggles behind him. Taeyang always got what he wanted, and that was exactly how he loved it. He enjoyed being the cat, and everyone else the mouse under his paw.

    Upon reaching Mr. Chung’s offices Taeyang was pleased to see that the receptionist was a young girl. It would be easy for him to get access to Mr. Chung after all. Taeyang took a few steps forward, stopping as his breath caught in his throat. The girl had turned slightly in order to type on her computer as she spoke on the phone, and Taeyang noted that she was rather cute. Really cute. He thought, staring for a few seconds longer. Focus Taeyang, you have a job to do. He blinked, regaining his composure as he put on a smile and walked up to her.

    “I’m here to see Mr. Chung. He should be expecting me.”

    ~~~

    You were typing away on the computer, composing emails while speaking to a customer on the phone. The receptionist job was a tedious one, but it paid well, though was it worth dealing with pretentious people? Debatable. You sighed in relief as you hung up the call, pausing your typing to rub your temples. The man on the phone had been rather angry that he wasn’t able to meet with Mr. Chung, but there was little you could do if he didn’t have an appointment scheduled.

    Turning back to your monitor, you continued writing the email to a local restaurant confirming the menu for the upcoming banquet this weekend. You’d just hit send when the sound of footsteps approaching drew your attention. Looking up, you were taken aback by the young and handsome boy in front of you. He looked like a university student, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, a backpack on his shoulders. Your eyebrow rose slightly at the sight of the baseball bat poking out from his bag, but figured he probably played for the university’s team.

    “May I help you?” You asked politely.

    “I’m here to see Mr. Chung. He should be expecting me.”

    “Name?”

    “Taeyang. Yoo Taeyang.” The boy leaned on the counter, and smiled at you.

    “Give me one moment to call him please.” You said, trying your best to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Chung? There’s someone here by the name of Yoo Taeyang. He says you were expecting him? Is that so? Yes, of course sir.”

    You hung up the phone once more, steeling yourself for the argument to come. “I’m sorry Mr. Yoo but unfortunately Mr. Chung will not be seeing you today. He is a very busy individual and has a strict schedule to follow. He also insists that you no longer disturb him and if you return I would have to call security.”

    “Is that so?” Taeyang asked, head tilting to the side slightly as he stared at you.

    You nodded, unsure of what to say. Mr. Chung’s response to hearing Taeyang’s name was unsettling to say the least. The man had spoken as if in a panic, the sound of rustling papers and curses only confirming that for some odd reason Mr. Chung was suddenly in a hurry to be elsewhere. You felt as if he almost didn’t believe you when you had said Taeyang was here, asking you to repeat his name once more. You wondered what connection these two had, for Mr. Chung to seem so afraid of a boy.

    “Well this won’t do. Mr. Chung knows today was his last day to-” Taeyang paused as the elevator doors down the hall on his right slid open, a distraught man all but sprinting out of it. “Ah, Mr. Chung! Just the man I was looking for.”

    Mr. Chung paled, eyes widening in terror. “Ah yes, good evening Taeyang!” He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure as he adjusted his tie.

    “You know why I’m here, correct?” Taeyang was amused to say the least. This was always his favorite part of his job, watching people squirm, knowing they had no choice but to give him what he wanted. He strode towards the man, hands in his pockets as he smiled. “Don’t worry, just pay me what you owe Youngbin and we’ll be all good.”

    “I-” Mr. Chung cut off as you stepped out from behind your desk.

    “I’m sorry but Mr. Chung has already stated that he will not be seeing you today, regardless of whatever...business you may have with him.” You had absolutely no idea what you were doing or why, but you wanted to de-escalate the situation as much as possible. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call security down here.”

    “Look sweetheart, I know you’re just doing your job, but this is a matter between your boss and me. I’d appreciate it if you don’t intervene, otherwise you’re gonna end up hurt.”

    “Sweetheart?” Your eyebrow rose as you stared at him. If there was one thing you hated, it was guys like him talking down on you as if you were some weak child. “Alright listen, for one thing, don’t call me ‘Sweetheart’, and for another, you’re going to have to leave. Now. Unless you want me to kick you in the balls with my heels.”

    Taeyang was rather surprised to say the least. This was the first time someone had genuinely stood up to him in such a manner. He had to admit, the girl had balls. He’d been about to respond he noticed Mr. Chung pulling something out from his suit pocket. Eyes widening, Taeyang grabbed your hand and pulled you behind him, shielding you with his body. “Stay behind me!”

    “What-” You gasped, grip tightening on Taeyang as you looked past him at Mr. Chung, who was now aiming his pistol at the two of you. “Oh shit.”

    “Mr. Chung, you really don’t want to do that.” Taeyang said, eyes fixed on the gun. Under normal circumstances, Taeyang would’ve been able to handle the situation just fine, but now he had you to consider and although Taeyang is both reckless and ruthless, he would never allow an innocent civilian to get hurt. He’d also never admit that perhaps his desire to protect you came from more than just you being an innocent bystander.

    “Oh yeah? What difference does it make? You’re going to kill me anyways.” Mr. Chung laughed hysterically, on the verge of losing his mind. “You know what? I could kill you so easily. Right here, right now. How would Kim Youngbin feel huh? Knowing that I killed one of his little boys. That’s what that bastard deserves anyways, threatening a man like me! He should be scared of me.”

    Taeyang stared at the man, trying his best to keep his own composure as the other spoke. He knew whenever he handled a negotiation that people would always have plenty of choice words to throw at him, but if there was one thing Taeyang absolutely would not stand for, is disrespect towards his brothers and especially disrespect towards Youngbin.

    He took a deep breath, and while Mr. Chung was still rambling on, he whispered to you. “I need you to trust me in the next thirty seconds. I won’t let him hurt you.”

    “Trust you?! You idiot you’re the reason he’s even waving that gun towards us!” You whispered back.

    Taeyang smiled. He definitely liked this girl. Mr. Chung stopped as he noticed the boy’s smile, his anger flaring. “Oh so you think this is funny? You won’t be laughing once I put a bullet through you!”

    Everything that happened after seemed to happen in slow motion as Mr. Chung tightened his finger around the trigger. Taeyang ducked towards the right, pulling you along with him as the first shot fired. Coming to a stop, he pushed you behind a large potted plant and handed you his backpack as he pulled his aluminum bat out from the side. With a quick ‘stay here’ Taeyang ran out as another shot fired, ricocheting off the pot.

    “You wanna play this game? Fine let’s fucking play.” Taeyang said, hands tightening around his bat.

    Mr. Chung laughed. “Let’s see if that bat can save your life boy.”

    Taeyang ran forward, jerking towards his left as Mr. Chung fired. It was only a short distance, and as Mr. Chung struggled to fire his next shot, Taeyang dropped, sliding the remaining distance. He swung his bat, landing a clean blow to Mr. Chung’s left leg, and as the other man fell in pain, Taeyang swung again, this time at his head. The older man coughed,spitting out blood, but grip still tight on his gun. Turning, he fired another shot, but Taeyang was quicker. He’d jumped over the man’s body just as the bullet flew by, only narrowly missing his arm as he placed his bat under Mr. Chung’s neck and pulled upwards, mimicking a choke hold. Mr. Chung dropped the gun as his fingers clawed at the bat.

    “Hey sweetheart, I need you out here.” Taeyang called, kicking the gun away with his foot.

    “What did I say about you calling me that?” You groaned as you cautiously poked your head out.

    “You know you like it.” Taeyang grinned. “Can you do me a favor? Look into Mr. Chung’s account here and take out thirty grand. I know he has the money.”

    “[Y/N] don’t...don’t you dare touch my money!” Mr. Chung choked out.

    “Shut up, you’re not in the position to be making any demands.” Taeyang hissed as he pulled on his bat again. “Besides you owe us that fucking money. That’s what a loan is. You borrow money and you pay it back in full.”

    “Alright well, cash withdrawals can only go up to ten grand before the bank would have to report it, but if Mr. Chung here signs a check, we can cash it in full.” You replied, quickly typing on your computer. Security would be here soon and you knew you’d have to get this done quickly. Pulling out a checkbook from your side drawer, you walked over to Mr. Chung with a pen in hand. “Mr. Chung just sign your name here and Taeyang will let you go.”

    “Fuck you!”

    “Hey, you don’t speak to a lady like that.” Taeyang snapped, pulling once more.

    “Just sign it Mr. Chung. Please.” You waited as Mr. Chung shakily signed the check, cursing the whole time and swearing that he’d get you both arrested. Once he was done, you hastily grabbed the check back before looking up at Taeyang. “Knock him out.”

    Taeyang rose an eyebrow curiously before doing so, Mr. Chung’s body crumpling to the floor. You cut him off as he opened his mouth to speak. “Come on we have to go security’s going to be here any second.”

    You grabbed his wrist and pulled him along, the check and his backpack in your other hand. You were thankful that your heels weren’t too high as you nearly ran down the street towards the bank. You didn’t stop till you were outside, breathing a little heavier. Taeyang, however, looked like he hardly broke a sweat as he stared at you wide eyed.

    “The guy’s a douche.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Besides, you saved my life, figured I’d sort of save yours by getting you out of there. Now stay here I’m going to go inside and cash the check for you. They know me since I often come here for Mr. Chung.”

    True to your word, after a few moments you came back out with a fat envelope filled with cash. You handed it to Taeyang, who held it in a way as if he were testing its weight.

    “There’s actually forty grand in there. Mr. Chung had the money to spare so I figured why not.” You blushed as Taeyang looked at you. “Like I said, you saved my life back there, so I owed you one.”

    “Well here, you deserve it.” Taeyang said, handing you the ten grand from the envelope. “You risked a lot by helping me today. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to get involved and you wouldn’t have if only Mr. Chung had been so kind as to let me in his office.”

    “Taeyang I can’t take this.”

    “[Y/N] please.”

    You paused, surprised that he’d actually remembered your name. Hesitantly,you took the ten grand, staring at the money sadly. “Thank you. I guess I will need it now since I’m pretty sure I’m fired.”

    A pause.

    “Oh shit. What am I going to do now?!” You panicked. The severity of the situation was finally sinking in and you realized that once Mr. Chung came around he would no doubt tell everything to the police which means jail time for you. You felt your life crumbling to pieces around you as one thought after another raced through your mind of all of the possibilities of what could happen next. Hell what’s going to stop Mr. Chung from really killing you?

    You felt yourself blushing again as Taeyang held your chin between his finger and his thumb, tilting your face upwards so he could look directly into your eyes. He smiled, a small smile, but one that confirmed your feelings that what you did was right, and that it was worth it.

    “Hey, if you’re worried about Mr. Chung, I swear on my life that he won’t hurt you. He won’t even be able to get within a hundred feet of you as long as I’m still breathing.”

    “Taeyang, I appreciate it, but we both know you can’t always be around, and uh, I’m guessing your line of work, whatever it is, requires you to be at the ready twenty four-seven. Also, I’m pretty sure your work and the people you work with or for, are your main priority.” You hesitated, before continuing. “We don’t even know each other. Like we’ve spent a total of what, maybe two hours together? I just really don’t think it’d be a good idea to-”

    The words died as you felt a pair of lips on your own. After what felt like a year, Taeyang pulled away with a grin on his face. “You talk too much you know that? But I guess it’s one of your charms. Besides it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known someone, if you feel like it’s the right person. Trust me, for as long as I’ve been in this business, I’ve never met someone like you.”

    “I-what?” You blinked, still feeling high from the kiss.

    Taeyang laughed. “I have a proposition for you sweetheart. If you don’t like it you can walk out anytime you want but it’ll be a way for me to keep you safe, and I’ve got some people who would be interested in meeting you. It’ll be temporary, just until I can guarantee that no one’s going to come after you because of what happened today, but it can become a permanent thing too. I mean only if you want to that is!”

    By this point Taeyang was rambling on, so you moved to cut him off by pecking his lips in return, both of you equally blushing. You played with the hem of your shirt nervously as you looked at him. “So what exactly is this proposition Yoo Taeyang?”

    Taeyang took a deep breath, and the world silenced as the two of you felt your hearts accelerating. You would never know, until much later how great of a risk Taeyang was taking in this one moment, in trusting you, a stranger by all means. Taeyang knew in his heart though, that he never would have been able to walk away from you anyways. From the moment he saw you he already knew how much you’d mean to him. He would do everything in his power to ensure your safety after what he’d done to you today, and Youngbin would understand, surely he would, along with the rest of his brothers. So, with another breath, he spoke.

    “Come stay with me.”

[superwholock-marvel-images]

Through time and space part 7

Part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

Katie gets a call from Dean, your brothers need your and your sister’s help on a case. The only issue is, is that neither of you have enough money to afford two airline tickets to get to Southeast Iowa Regional Airport, and then money for a cab to take the two of you to Arkey.

“I don’t think we can do it De.” You say looking at the prices on your laptop.

“Aren’t you two with the Doctor?” Sam asks.

“If we were with the Doctor, this would be an entirely different story… but he sent us away and decommissioned the TARDIS, so (nickname) and I are kind of stuck at Baker Street.” Katie adds in as Sherlock and John lumber up the stairs. Both of them look like they got into a fistfight.

“What the hell happened you two?” You as looking up from your computer screen.

“I asked John to punch me in the face… he wouldn’t do it so I punched him.” Sherlock replies. “It escalated from there.”

“I’ll go get the first aid kit.” You say standing up and closing the lid of your laptop and head to the kitchen and grab the first aid kit before handing it to John.

“What, you don’t want to do it?” John jokes.

“You’re more qualified than me Dr. Watson.” Katie snickers softly to herself.

“Do I even want to ask?” Dean speaks up, you momentarily forgot you and your sister were on the phone with your brothers.

"Just my flatmates being themselves."

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

When Sherlock hears about your brothers needing help on a hunt, he bribes his brother to give you and Katie airline tickets in order to help Sam and Dean out.

"Thought you guys didn't have the funds to get here." Dean comments when picking you and your sister up from the airport.

“Sherlock bribed the government.” Katie answers as she tosses her duffle bag into the trunk of the car.

“That’s one way how to put it.” You add in as you throw your bag into the trunk then close it. “Sherlock and Mycroft have a weird relationship… rather not go into detail about that.”

While one the road Katie pops a question that has been bothering you since you last talked to the boys on the phone. “Sam, what pulled you back into hunting?” Sam hangs his head slightly.

“Something murdered my girlfriend, I guess I just want to find whatever killed her and get even.” Sam answers.

“So, you’re basically becoming Dad… one who doesn’t care about his family, just wanting to get revenge.” You speak up.

“No.” Sam turns to face you. “I said even, not revenge. There is a huge difference Y/N.”

“If you say so… what are we going after anyway?”

“Not sure yet. Something is causing people to drop dead left and right. The latest victim supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob.” You lean forward and prop your elbows against the top of the other bench seat. Your interest piqued.

“The human mad cow disease?”

“Yes… do I even want to know how you know that?”

“John’s a doctor.”

“Oh that makes sense.”

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

“I’m going to pretend that Dean didn’t just do that.” You say softly to your sister. Katie giggles. Dean didn’t want to say the four of you were siblings (again) Dean decided to call Sam ‘honey’ and slap his ass.

“Would you rather him doing that to you?” She replies.

“Oh hell no.”

“You just proved my point little sis.” Katie then drapes her arm around your shoulders and the two of you go off to do some investigating of your own.

While on the road, Dean tells Sam that Dad checked up on him while at school just to keep an eye on him. “Now when he found out Y/N left the country, he panicked a bit.” Dean explains.

“He calmed down when he caught me talking to you.” Katie adds in.

“Please tell me he didn’t hear Sherlock shooting the wall, or anything involving a case… did he?” You ask in response.

“He overheard the case with the woman in pink, but that is it I believe.” You lean your head against the window with a relieved sigh. “Dad said something along the lines of glad she’s putting her hunting skills to good use.”

“Did he really say that?” You ask trying not to laugh, without much luck.

“Yup.”

“That is freaking hilarious. The only time I’ve used my hunting knowledge is when Sherlock put the severed vampire head in the fridge.” Dean actually pulls off the road and throws you a look.

“Did you just say your roommate had a severed vampire head in the fridge?” He asks.

“Yup. Trust me, Sherlock always has crazy experiments hidden in the kitchen… you get used to it after awhile.”

“I don’t know if I like you spending time with that psychopath.”

“High functioning sociopath there is a difference.”

“Still, I don’t know if you should stay there.”

“Even after Sherlock saved my life more than once?”

“I don’t want to see you hurt okay, I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“Dean, Sherlock might be a little crazy… but he is a good man, maybe someday even a great one.”

“Why are you sticking up for him exactly?” You suddenly find the impala’s floor incredibly interesting.

“Because we’re a family.” You answer incoherently.

“Didn’t catch what you said (nickname).” Sam says. You sigh and move your gaze to the ceiling of the car.

“I said because we’re a family.” Ignoring the shocked looks of everyone you pull up your shirt slightly revealing the scar from the sniper bullet. “When Moriarty used John and I for bait for Sherlock, I got hit by a sniper bullet… John removed the bullet then stitched me up, Sherlock literally spent the next two days keeping me company and making sure I wouldn’t tear the stitches!” That last part is a lie but you really don’t want to explain what happened with the Doctor during World War Two. You let your shirt fall back over your most recent scar.

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

“Hey, guys!” You say cheerfully when you get a video call on your laptop from Sherlock and John. You sit down on the foot of one of the hotel beds.

“There’s our source of sarcasm.” John jokes.

“What makes me the source of sarcasm?” You ask with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“Sherlock just insults everyone, and well you know what happened last time I used sarcasm.”

“Oh yeah I know. You almost got yourself and your date killed because of it.”

“Thanks for the reminder (nickname).”

“You’re welcome. How’s Baker street?”

“Boring.” Sherlock answers for John. “Haven’t had a decent case in weeks.”

“What about that case with Irene Adler?”

“Nothing… she gave me her phone- it’s password locked. I can’t get into it.”

“I can hack into it if you want me to.”

“You know how to hack?” John asks a bit shocked.

“I know how to do a lot of things John, Sherlock send me the phone’s info and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Information sending now.” Sherlock answers. Two seconds later your phone goes off.

“Got it. Let’s see here.” You open up the message from Sherlock and get to work.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks entering the motel room and setting down the bag of food.

“Currently trying to hack into someone’s phone.” You answer. “Got anything yet Sherlock?”

“Nope, it’s still locked.” Sherlock answers. “Also you made John uneasy when you typed in that last password.”

“Ghost typing, I know. Hey, it’s better than a poltergeist or even a demon for that matter.”

“You got a point there.”

“Y/N have you gotten any form of sleep recently?” Dean asks as he hands you a cup of coffee.

“My body is still on London time… and thanks, De.” You answer as you move your laptop off your lap and onto the bed. You take a sip of your drink. John then reappears on camera. One look and he knew that you’re just running on energy fumes, he also notices how pale you are currently.

“Y/N, take the day off.” John says in a kind, yet a bit demanding tone.

“I don’t know if I can though John… I mean I kind of have to help everyone out here.”

“Well I’m not asking. As your friend as well as your doctor I’m telling you to take the day off and get some rest.”

“I’ll make sure that she will.” Dean says speaking up. You sigh to yourself, great Dean is now going to baby you to no end.

“Is it bad I’d rather have Moriarty shoot me again over my brother treating me like a baby?” You ask in response.

“Hmm… sounds like Mycroft.” Sherlock points out.

“Thanks for the boost of confidence Sherlock.”

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

You manage to catch a few hours of sleep when Dean was out with Sam and Katie, not a lot though. You wake with a start when the motel room door slams open. “Damn hunter’s instincts.” You mutter when you see it’s just your siblings. You roll back over hoping to catch a few more hours, Dean has other ideas though.

“Hey since you’re awake we need your help.” He says.

“With what?” You ask your voice heavy with sleep.

“The hunt what else kiddo?”

“Thought John said that I look like shit and need the day off.”

“Since when have we obeyed the rules?”

“You’re a dick.” You then start to yawn.

“I know this. While you were out Dad called.”

You didn’t hear ‘Dad called’ you hear ‘Sam bawled.’ You yawn again.

“Not sure what that has to do with me… can I go back to sleep now?”

“No. We’re hitting the road in ten minutes.” You groan and roll out of the covers and drowsily start packing your things.

“Your going to get nowhere when you’re packing while half asleep.” Katie says helping you out with your bag and things making sure that you didn’t leave anything behind. By the time the four of you are on the road you’re using Katie as a pillow. You’re such a sound sleeper you don’t know Sam and Katie left until you and Dean are almost in a small town in Indiana.

“Hey Sleeping Beauty awakens.” Dean jokes.

“Not funny.” You answer. “Where’s Sammy and Katydid?” You rarely call Katie, Katydid- it just slips out time to time.

“You slept through that whole bit… anyways it’s just you and me at the moment, kiddo.” You stretch popping your back.

“When was the last time that it was just the two of us?”

“Hunting, never.” Your brother answers drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Spending quality time together, you were in kindergarten. Sam and Katie weren’t out of school yet- I took you to go get some ice cream.”

“I remember that… it was just before Mother’s Day and I was still coping with my mom’s death.”

“You barely started talking to us again.” You laugh lightly. You and Dean talk the rest of the way to the town.

“Dean, wait a second- look at that.” You say pointing to the apple orchard.

“It’s an orchard, nothing special about it.” Dean replies.

“Not the orchard. I was meaning the scarecrow…”

“Oh.”

“Want to check that creepy son of a bitch out before we head to town?”

“I don’t see why not.” The two of you explore the orchard, you also take a few photos of the scarecrow on your phone.

“Different human body parts… that’s so not creepy.”

“Know what this thing is?”

“It’s not a scarecrow that’s for sure. It’s a pagan god…”

“How do you know?” Dean asks.

“I’ll explain it back in at the car… right now I think we should get the fuck out of here.”

“Good point.” You two get out of the orchard, an idea starts to form.

“Dean what if the two of us go into town at different times, you go in now, I’ll join you a half an hour later so they don’t suspect anything and I can get more information on the pagan god.” You suggest.

“That’s a great idea.”

“Could I have the keys so I can get the research.” Dean laughs and tosses you the Impala's keys.

“Hope you remember how to drive.”

“Of course I remember how to drive.”

A half an hour later you show up and meet up with your brother, the two of you pretend to be strangers. When the two of you get locked in the cellar your phone starts to ring. “You have signal in here?” Dean asks.

“Yeah… the Doctor did something to my phone so I always have signal.” You pull out your phone and put it on speakerphone. “Hello?”

“Thank God you answered.” Sam says. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of Dean without luck.”

“Dean doesn’t have signal.”

“You do though?”

“Ask Katie to explain it, her phone is the same way.”

“Anyways, where are you?”

“Currently in a cellar.”

“About to become scarecrow food.” Dean adds in. You hear footsteps coming towards you.

“Gotta go. Sorry guys.”

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

-Sam POV-

When Y/N says that they have to go, I share a look with Katie. We silently agree to go back for them. The two of us say fair well to Meg and we hotwire a car and drive to where Dean and Y/N are.

“Sam, there’s Dean’s car.” Katie points out.

“Good eye Katie.” I reply. Once parked the two of us run into the orchard. We find our siblings relatively quickly. “Dean, Y/N?” I ask.

“Oh! Oh, I take everything back I said. I’m so happy to see you. Come on.” Dean says as I untie him and Katie unties Y/N. “How’d you get here?”

“We stole a car.” I answer, Dean laughs lightly.

“Keep an eye on that scarecrow.” Y/N states.

“What scarecrow?” Katie asks.

“We should go… NOW!” Y/N exclaims with wide eyes. The four of us take off running. The next day we burn the oldest tree in the orchard so all these sacrifices will stop. The four of us then leave town not looking back.

← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← → → → → → → → → → → → → → → → →

@the-third-winchester-warrior

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@caroldanversinatardis

@flannels-and-rocksalt

@always-keep-writing-spn

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

Game #4 Kick in the Teeth

"Ow." It was perhaps the understatement of the year. Mike's body was trembling, and this annoyed her- it was an involuntary reaction to the level of pain she was in, something she was trying to express at a minimum. She was laying on her stomach on one of the two medical tables in the trainer’s room, ice packs placed at the points of impact on her back. She breathed in and out a few times through her teeth, producing a low hiss, before turning her head to her left, towards the other current occupant of the room. The person she'd taken the worst of this beating for, and had no regrets whatsoever about it. "...hey, buddy. You okay? Sorry I wasn't quicker..." There was a pained strain in her voice, and that annoyed her as well. She had to be stronger than this. John had just finished being examined by a doctor, and was sitting in a chair beside her. He wheezed with every breath -- coughing up spittle into a white towel, "I'm," a more pronounced fit, "okay." "No you're not." She took a few rattling breaths of her own, clenching her teeth together tightly. "F-fucking Garcia... 'm gonna kick his fucking ass in so bad he's g-gonna have to open his mouth to fucking change his underwear..." Her shaking just wasn’t from pain anymore. She could feel herself getting angrier by the second, and despite the icy cold on her back her body felt very hot. Frankly she was surprised the ice hadn’t all melted by now. Her fists tightened, short fingernails digging into the heels of her palms. Every thought of the smirking face of the tag team champion only stoked her rage. Rob Garcia had hurt her, yes. But he’d hurt her partner and that was completely unforgivable. Between the twin injustices walloped upon NSFW in the form of a deftly wielded steel chair, the New Yorker was so furious she could have spat napalm. “I’m gonna get ‘im back for us, buddy. I’m gonna get ‘im fuckin’ good. I got half a mind to drag my fuckin’ carcass out to the garage and cut his goddamn brake lines.” She’d like to say that she wasn’t serious about that. But honestly, she didn’t know. “At least your friend won.” “Yeah… yeah she did, didn’t she? Heh. Guess tonight hasn’t been a total fuckin’ bust. I mean, I guess we won too. Don’t really feel like it though.” She sighed, fists unclenching slightly. “And she’s not just my friend, you know. She likes you. Kinda makes her our friend, I think.” There was a knock at the door. Mike huffed a bit. She wanted to tell whoever it was to beat it, but there was a chance it could be the doc. Or even their newly victorious and always charming Ms. Natalie Young, whose presence was always welcome. She decided to chance it- “C’mon in!” -and immediately regretted her decision as NSFW’s least favorite backstage interviewer slunk into the trainer’s room, cheezy mustache and all with a cameraman in tow. Mike rolled her eyes. “Ugh. What do you want, Heart? Ain’t in the mood for bullshittery.” Ace turned towards the camera, not even acknowledging Mike’s shot across the bow. “Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Pepper presents an EWC.com exclusive. We are moments after Monday Night Brawl’s exciting conclusion but many people are talking about the heinous attack perpetrated by Robert Garcia and Morgan Darkwater on...” He stepped aside to reveal Church and McGuire. “NSFW. Bishop Church? What happened -- nevermind. McGuire, what happened out there tonight?” “What happened? I’ll tell you what the fuck happened. Rob Garcia signed his goddamn death warrant, that’s what the fuck happened. And you’re next on the list if you don’t apologize. Now.” She gave him a look that could only be described as borderline homicidal. “Apologize for what?” “For blowing off my fucking partner, asshole. I’m fucking serious. Apologize or neither of us is saying another fuckng word to you ever again until the fucking apocalypse, and you’ll just look like some pornstached joker holding his mic in one hand and his dick in the other. Apologize.” John looked at her with a soft expression. “It’s … okay. He just --” “No. It’s not fucking okay, Church. It hasn’t been fucking okay from the goddamn get go. As long as I’ve been here, this fuck with glorified nose hair extensions has been treating you like dirt. And I am fucking sick of it. Hey, Heart. You every wonder why we fucking avoid you? Why you haven’t gotten any airplay from us for fucking weeks? Because you’re a fuckwit and we don’t want to talk to you, because of shit like this. Because of certain members of the journalism community, present company included, acting lower than mold on rat shit. Now. Apologize.” Mike’s jaw ticked. Were she psychic, her glare might have made the journalist’s head explode. For whatever reason, the camera now zoomed in on the interviewer’s reaction to this confrontation. He let out an exasperated sigh and mumbled. “I’m sorry.” “What was that? People in the fucking cheap seats didn’t hear you. I’m not playing here, douchebag. Apologize. Fuckin’ audible-like. And not to me- to him.” Ace looked directly at Bishop Church. There was a few more seconds of dead air before Ace finally clearly stated. “I’m sorry … for uh, how I acted when you first got here.” More silence. John looked to Mike and nodded slightly. “Right. He accepts your apology so I guess I fucking do too. Now. Ask your little questions. But don’t ask me, ask my partner. We’re a goddamn team, his input’s just’s valid as mine.” “Bishop Church. First, uh, congratulations on becoming television champion.” John stared at Ace blankly. “So rough night, huh?” “You know what, Mike? Why would they do this to us? What did we ever do to them?” Mike sighed, her expression softening a bit. She turns her gaze away from Ace and toward her partner, shaking her head a little. “Because Rob Garcia is a fucking waste of meat and breath. He’s a waste, and he’s fucking scared of us. He knows it’s a matter of time. So instead of training and preparing and, y’know, acting like an actual fucking competitor, he tries to lay us out early. We didn’t do shit to him. But that don’t matter at all to people like that.” She takes a breath in, exhaling it in another hiss. “Darkwater’s a piece of shit too. He may not’ve participated in the shit with the chairs, but he walloped us outta nowhere beforehand, an’ if he didn’t like what Garcia did he sure’s fuck didn’t help. Don’t get him off the hook none, inaction makes him just’s fuckin’ guilty.” “So despite all of this, I’ve gotten word from Dr. Hiro Lee that you have both been cleared for action next week for Monday Night Brawl in Milan, Italy. This is just one week before Bishop Church defends his Television Title against Orianna Johnson at Scars and Stripes. You two are in tag team action.” “Against who?” “Yeah, who? We get our title shot? Or maybe just another crack at those limpdicks? Ooooh, I can’t fuckin’ WAIT to get my hands on them. No more Mr. Nice Guy, I’m gonna fuck ‘em both up good.” Ace shook his head. “The match you two were victorious in was not officially sanctioned as a #1 contendership bout for the tag team championships. NSFW takes on up and coming tag team: Donkey Punch.” John looked up towards the tiles on the ceiling, “Oh. Okay.” “...you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Donkey Punch. DONKEY PUNCH. DONKEY. FUCKING. PUNCH.” “Yes. Danny and Donny Madison. They’re your opponents.” “THEY’RE PIECES OF SHIT AND YOU KNOW IT.” “They seem nice.” “Donkey Punch and NSFW have both been victims of Rob Garcia’s reign of terror.” “Oh. Oh. Heart. Just when we were starting to fucking get along. Don’t you EVER compare us to that pair of idiots. EV-VER. This is a goddamn insult. I mean, you can’t possibly fucking think they’re even in the same league as us. They ain’t even playing the same fucking SPORT.” Her nails dug into her palms again, temper beginning to seethe. John looked the camera directly with a nervous expression before returning his gaze at Mike. “They have been teaming for quite some time. They, uh, put up a good fight against Mucho Grande. I’m sorry I guess I’m not in the mood to exclaim that.” “Bud, I really hate to disagree with you, but they kinda really didn’t. They got fuckin’ annihilated in three goddamn minutes. I mean, shit, some poor guy probably got up to get fucking chips and missed the whole fuckin’ thing.” “They gave it a good try, I guess.” Ace Heart piped in, “Win withstanding, I’d say that the Donkey Punch and NSFW are on the same level.” “And I’d say you ate paint chips as a child. We are serious fucking competitors. We know how to have a good time but we fucking love this business. We’re dedicated to it. We work our fucking asses off. What do they do? Derp around, pick and eat their own fucking boogers, and make fart jokes? Do they even have two fucking brain cells between them to rub together? This isn’t a goddamn game. This. Is NOT. A stupid fucking tiddlywink-ass game.” She bared her teeth, snarling. She looked like she might leap at Ace and tear out his jugular if provoked much further. “I used to play tiddlywinks when I was a boy.” She exhaled again, a bit of a fond chuckle escaping her. She had to hand it to her partner- he had an almost uncanny way of cooling her temper. She could be the angriest she could possibly be, and just a few words from him would de-escalate things. How he did it she had no idea, but it was damn effective. “Seems like…” Ace hesitated but maybe misunderstood Church’s level gaze at Mike. “Seems like he would fit right in with them.” And wouldn’t you know it, whatever calming effect that Church had on Mike was instantly undone. Mike’s emerald glare flared back up in all its fury, face twisted into something that could only be described as genuine, full-throated hatred. “Get out.” She lifted the ice packs- about two-thirds melted by now- off of her back and began to throw them, one by one, at the interviewer. “GET OUT! YOU FUCKING TURDMUNCHER! FUCK YOU!” The ice pack smacks right into Ace’s forehead and then lands at his feet. The other two sailed over his head. He looks as if he was about to retort in kind but he regained his composure with an adjustment of his collar.“You’re a nasty woman sometimes, Mike McGuire.” At this moment, John stood up from his chair. He loomed over Ace Heart. “Please leave.” His tone left nothing to interpretation. “You got your soundbytes. My partner politely -- well, no, she asked you to leave. I am asking you to leave. Mike isn’t in a good mood. You want to prod and prod to get reactions for your reels. That’s over. Fine. We’re facing the Madison brothers. And they’re a little unorthodox. Mike believes we should be in line for a shot at the tag team championships and I am inclined to agree with her on that sentiment. If the new management team wants to see NSFW roll in the mud - then so be it.” John stepped forward, forcing Ace into the doorway. “Now get out.” Outside the doorway now. “Alright, bud. I get it, just one more--” John slammed the door in Ace’s face. Interview over. Trembling, Mike grabbed a small pillow- given the setting, probably meant more for support than comfort- and slammed her face into it, her enraged screams sufficiently muffled as not to spread outside the confines of the makeshift infirmary. She really wanted to put her fist through something. Or someone. She was so angry and frustrated and hurt, but anything she really wanted to do was either pointless or illegal. Anything but this. So she kept screaming until she ran out of breath, and only then did she come up for air, panting. “...I hate everyone. Everybody but you. And Natalie. Everyone else can fuck off and die.” “You don’t mean that.” John leaned back on the door to the hallway, “All the wonderful people we met in the last few days. They were so friendly. The old woman. She invited us into her home. For some reason. I think she said I was her son. But her? No, I don’t believe you, Mike.” “Eh, you’re right, I don’t mean it.” She took a few deep breaths, wincing a bit as her back throbbed. “It just pisses me off so bad I can’t see stuff like that sometimes. So many shitty people crop up that I start forgetting that not everyone that isn’t us is like that. And it sucks because I WANT the world to be, y’know, not awful. Not indicative of the fuckin’ loudmouth minority.” “She made us eat that weird soup. What was it?” “Borcht, I think? The beet stuff served cold? Dunno if I liked it or not. Those jam blintzes were fuckin’ great though.” And then he whispered, despite them being alone in this room, “I may have indulged in one myself.” And Mike giggled, and whispered right back. “Don’t sweat it. I had like, five.” She sighed, again marvelling at how quickly her mood had cooled. Before now, before all this, it’d taken her hours or even days to truly calm down if something got her this hot. “Hey. Maybe this won’t be so bad. At least we get a trip to Italy out of it. And that is gonna be the trip of a lifetime. Rome, Venice, fine fuckin’ art, culture, and every fuckin’ delicious thing you can imagine. It’ll be good, even if we DO have to fight fuckin’ Donkey Punch.” She tapped her chin, and then nodded, giving her partner a pat on the shoulder. “Yeah. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

[uterusclub]

Party planning had been premeditated a few weeks prior which, per usual, escalated from one idea to a wonderful thread of several, awesome ones! This was going to be a hit out of the park! We initiated our weekend with a scheduled meeting at The Hyatt Regency at McCormick Center courtesy of a free night-stay voucher bestowed upon us by the always generous, Wika Shorty G. As I was already pre-committed to subbing at Cheetah gym beforehand, Sharon took her leisure getting ready at home whilst I donkey-trekked my overstuffed backpack to the likes of Andersonville for some cardio pre-party. Post class, I jumped aboard my Uber with a very friend Indian driver who immediately launched into his life story and offered me some Bollywood-esk tunes for my journey. Shit was good. Shazammed a bunch of it. But this ride was LONG. That’s what you get for rush-hour Fridays though, I suppose. In any case, either HE grew tired of the Bollywood or thought I had as he eventually changed the musical accompaniment to his favorite American tunes which involved some car-karaoked Backstreet Boys. My route concluded with Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On at which point, we neared the Hyatt Regency which was chaos-packed with vehicles as well as tuxedo’d gentlemen and fancy-dressed ladies. What in the fuck? I was well aware the Chicago Auto Show was happening (by no means of my own) but what did fanciness have to do with that? We came to later learn of the First Look for Charity which costs a whopping $300 per ticket. So basically, rich people is the answer. And we are not as such. In fact, I was, dare I say looking quite derelict post-workout class by the time I arrived at this very classy joint. Which, might I also add, is confusing as all living hell. I had to actually call Sharon and summon her to appear in order to figure out just where the hell to go. So she met me in some lobby portion looking equally derelict-y and we made our way back to our hotel room where we noshed on pre-ordered Indiana food while watching a re-run episode of Ghost Adventures.

Indian in belly, we did our utmost to glamor up before grabbing an Uber and making our way to the Museum of Science and Industry! Mission: Silent Disco! So I’d heard of this concept for quite some time and thought it very intriguing. Wasn’t exactly sure what to expect but I was NOT disappointed. Upon descending an accouplement of stairs, grabbing our drink tickets and dropping off our coats, we ascended to an exhibit hall lightly sprinkled with people. Handed our headphones, we observed three DJS set up in opposition and liquor tables arranged in the center. We took a few moments to scour the scene and get a little ‘groove’ on before turning in our ticket for some liquid courage. It was, of course, at this point, we realized we couldn’t leave the area with drink in hand so we chugged as quickly as we could to peruse the open exhibits around us. Exploring the museum was much more enjoyable jetting back and forth between house music and a bunch of random 70’s tunes. I could do this forever. I could live here under these ground rules. In any case, in hour into our endeavor, we were over it (as we are oft to do) and scheduled an Uber.

Back at the hotel, we de-make-up-ified (although my hair glitter refused to completely vacate the premises), changed into PJ’s and partook in the absolute splendor that is Forensic Files. It was not until the next morning that we came to realize the magnanimous-ness that is the Hyatt’s most wondrous beds! Holy awesome sleep! I’m fairly sure I didn’t move from my original sleeping position which is quite unheard of. Well rested, we woke up entirely too early (as per usual) and made some in-room coffee. Following that and upon packing up our gear, we headed out to catch Uber.

Congress Hotel, here we come! Upon arriving at the hotel, MAN, this place was GORGEOUS! Not to mention, TIMELY! The old school decor and feel brought me back to my last viewing of The Shining. Creep? Perhaps. But mostly gorgeous and almost homey (gotta be that ‘old soul’ thing). We stayed just long enough to meet the bell-hop to drop off our bags before heading out immediately to catch the 29 bus towards Navy Pier. Time for Cider Fest!! One uneventful bus ride later, we were at the very over-rated Navy Pier. As much as we despise this place, we always end up back here. Go figure. Per usual, their ‘events’ are always held at the exhibit halls at the farthest end of the strip. So basically, it’s a hike. Fortunately, the way there is ALWAYS much easier than the inebriated way back.

Once we reached the exhibit hall, we were at a stand-still for a short period of time. The line looked a lot longer than it was, in actuality. In fact, we ended up entering the exhibit much earlier than anticipated. After grabbing our sample ‘glasses’ and tickets, we met with some awesome friends of ours and made our way upstairs to the less congested area and began our ventures. Let me just say now, it is SO easy getting crunk here and it’s absolutely the best! I couldn’t love cider people more if you paid me. Okay, perhaps I could. But seriously, everyone was so delightful and polite. We had some absolutely OUTSTANDING ciders and of course, some that made you wanna die a little (I blame myself for my lure to the higher percentages). All in all though, no real complaints. An hour and a halfish later, Sharon and I were STARVING. We headed out, quite impressively now that I look back at it and actually WALKED all the way to our next scheduled stop-off, The Public House. Mission: Alcohol milkshake.

So back-story on this. This place concocts themed alcoholic milkshakes every month and they always look super adorable but generally taste like absolute garbage. I think we mostly go there for picture taking purposes. In any case, last time we came here the themed milkshake was ‘sold out’ and it completely broke out hearts. So like complete over-planning nerds, we made sure to call ahead and not waste our goddamn, drunken time. Fortunately, all was well and we got to dabble in their Valentine’s Day themed Rose milkshake which was actually pretty decent tasting (not so much the cake portion or the accompanying cookies but the actual shake was dece). Capping that off, we grabbed another Uber to bring us back to the Congress in order to change and get ready for the ‘evening’s’ fancy, birthday dinner. Side note: during the process of getting our bags from the bell-hop, Jose, we mentioned our ghost-hunting ambitions and after relaying we were staying in room 612, were advised that room 610 had had numerous complaints of arguing being heard in the room at night. I think we were both leery on believing this guy but we were still both hopeful. In fact, I theorized he might possibly be a ghost himself! Especially when we later came to discover there WAS no room 610! After later accusing Jose in the elevator about it, he very nonchalantly replied, ‘Oh, well, it could have been room 612.’ Hmmmmm . . . .

Putting on make-up for the 2nd day in a roll was rough for the both of us but somehow we managed. Heading out, we caught another Uber to take us to the Tortoise Supper Club which, ironically, happened to be literally across the street from The Public House (go figure). While waiting to be seated, we met with some friends and were seated immediately. Good conversation and food was had with of course, more booze. We ended up catching a ride back to our hotel and immediately stripped down and back into PJ’s for the remaining night’s activity: ghost hunting!

Keep in mind, we’re not new to this ghost investigating in our PJ’s thing. Been there, done that – we have no shame. In fact, we actually headed downstairs to the lobby to grab a drink to kick-start our adventure. There, we met bartender, Kevin, whom I immediately questioned, with drink in hand, about his experiences at the hotel. He explained how he’d observed a glass combust out of nowhere and referred us to a woman named, Michelle, who could take us around the hotel. Eventually, he disappeared for a bit and Michelle appeared to be our ‘tour guide.’ She was an absolute blast! Funny, no-holds-bar, type attitude. She ended up taking us to the Gold Room banquet hall where a Peg Leg man was theorized to appear. We mentioned wanting to hit the south tower as I had previously researched it was allegedly the most ‘active’ area to investigate. We headed up to the 12th floor at which time Michelle continue to give us back-story on some of the apparitions believed to be haunting the hotel. She even mentioned how someone had fallen over the stair railing back on NYE and had plummet to the 9th but still managed to survive (though all sorts of fucked up as a result, naturally). At one point, I brought up room 441 which, I had read, was supposedly the most haunted room with a female apparition that would kick the bed while people slept. Michelle was familiar with this story and admitted she hadn’t even been on that floor. She also advised that the entire south tower was technically ‘closed’ since business was slow. As such, we were roaming dark hallways in silence and it was absolutely GLORIOUS! After reaching room 441, we hung out for a bit. Sharon and I used our recording device to do a session. While asking questions and awaiting replies, Michelle would hilarious butt in with whispered responses and at one point, ‘boo’ed the crap out of us! She laughed, we laughed but we were also partially annoyed. It was at this point we realized, nothing was seriously going to get done with her. So we headed back downstairs to the bar and grabbed us a few Moscato’s which Michelle gave us on the house (I think she seriously felt bad about scaring us). Ironically, as we sat and drank, a plethora of people were abound now in the bar. A young man to our right sparked some conversation and we ended up finding out he was on a stop-off for a ghost-tour. Sweet! After speaking with him very briefly, I attempted to ‘overhear’ information from the tour guide but between the bar noise and my own inebriation, it was pretty pointless so I gave us pretty much immediately.

Upon the additional intoxication, we made our way back up to the south tower and the 12th floor and made our way down, ghost hunting gear in hand. We, of course, stopped off at room 441 once again and loitered for quite some time but to our grave disappointment, experienced no phenomenon. To much chagrin, we took our down-trodden selves back to our hotel room at which point, I looked over my photos from the night’s activities for potential orbs and Sharon played back our audio until we were basically fell asleep. We conked out fairly quickly that night with much discomfort (those beds are god awful) and again, headed out relatively early in the morning to trek to the blue line and to the much beloved and abhorred, monkey (Bear) at home.

Sunday was a mixed day of catching up on terribly awesome tv shows and Sharon ‘wasting’ (in my opinion) her birthday cooking short-ribs for dinner (seriously, who cooks on their own birthday?)! Presents were opened and much contentment to the joy of being back at home were indulged. The evening was concluded with the inevitable dread of the incoming Monday which we could only DREAM of ghosting.

Boo-gy and Boo-ze Birthday Party planning had been premeditated a few weeks prior which, per usual, escalated from one idea to a wonderful thread of several, awesome ones!

[briannaslist]

This Guilty Blood

A Recap

And we’re back – pretty much right where we left off too. Jace is on Valentine’s boat, surrounded by a bunch of unconscious people who drank from the Mortal Cup. He’s looking on with angst when Clary runs up to him. She tells him that she took a portal in and Jace does not question it. She tries to get him to leave with her, but before they can leave, Valentine shows up with some minions in tow. So Jace fights Valentine and kills him. This scenario happens twice in like two minutes. And both times they play this heavy dubstep/EDM/club music. And both times Clary has like, no reaction to what is actually happening. Like you would think that fighting and killing the bad guy would elicit some kind of excitement or shock. I mean, if he truly killed him, then the main source of your problem is finally gone. Just basically a flat surprise. It’s like if the 6th Harry Potter opened with Harry randomly killing Voldemort and then everyone else is just standing there unfazed.

In other words, it’s no surprise when it’s revealed that that isn’t Clary, it’s Valentine in disguise. And the “Valentines” that Jace killed were pawns in Valentine disguise. Which – obviously. Jace, how was Clary going to take a portal to place that she does not know about? How did this guy, who grew up in the Shadowhunter world, not consider that the evil manipulative liar might use a rune to disguise himself as someone close to him? Our valiant hero is an idiot.

The Institute is in chaos – or at least that’s what the episode description says. It seems like they’re the same level of busy that they’re usually in. Since Alec can’t sense Jace, Isabelle figures he’s over water. This is not good enough for Alec so he yells out some orders to everyone in the room and Lydia comes over to get Alec to pump the brakes because she is still technically in charge. Izzy suggests that Alec take a break and Lydia seconds this and dismisses him. Which makes this angry ball of angst even more upset, causing him to also lash out at Magnus, who hasn’t even done shit.

Clary goes to talk to Jocelyn, happy to have her there, but also kinda pissed because of the whole hiding a major part of her life from her. Part of that includes Clary criticizing her for marrying “a psychopath”. Which her mom points out that he wasn’t always like that – and it doesn’t make sense to even bring it up because Clary knows that. She was there for that huge expository episode in season one where it was basically half-flashback where they explain how he was way before the mess with the Circle. But Jocelyn promises “no more lies” which is usually foreshadowing for more lies, often escalated from the ones told before. So Clary decides to give her mom the box with the baby Jonathan stuff; Clary tells her about how she used to see her take the box out at night and cry over it. Clary gives her what she believes is good news – Jonathan (Jace) is alive.

But her mom says that doesn’t make sense because she saw “them burn”. They get interrupted by Luke coming in to check on them. Luke says he didn’t believe Jonathan being alive at first either. No further expansion on what actually convinced him that it was true. Then Simon comes in, surprising Jocelyn, because last she saw Simon, he was a human. He smiles and she sees his fangs. So cool, Jocelyn is all up to speed.

Alec tries to apologize to Magnus for being snappy earlier (that’s probably just something that will have to be one of those accepted flaws because he’s like that all the time). However, he also wants Magnus to help him track Jace. And Magnus is like, “Oooh, I want to help, but remember that last time where we did that and you almost died?” And Alec goes right back to snappish and is like, “Why can’t you do this one thing?” As if Magnus has not been at the beck-and-call of this boy and his annoying friends since like the 3rd episode.

A little later –  I’m assuming because Alec has changed his clothes while everyone is dressed the same – Maryse gives a speech saying that the Clave is replacing Lydia with Victor Aldertree. Who may very well be the most irritating and infuriating character introduced on the whole damn show. Aldertree wants the search for Jace as the top priority and he wants to interview people; he also puts the Institute on temporary lockdown.

Clary asks who would be out there looking for Jace if they’re on lockdown. But like, he just said that it was top priority to find Jace and that the lockdown was temporary so…everyone? Walking aimlessly around the streets of New York isn’t actually going to accomplish anything.  

Although, it would probably be good to find him soon since he’s being beaten by Valentine’s men. Valentine comes in and admires his resilience so he activates Jace’s healing rune and has Jace moved. Then later on he has Jace come into the kitchen where he’s cooking some spaghetti and he tries to use that as an opening to reminisce on some childhood memory that Jace does not actually have of him. Jace just needs this stupidity to stop (as do I) so he asks him why he faked his death and pretended to be Michael Wayland. And Valentine is like, “blah blah protection, I love you, your mom left you to die cause you’re different because I experimented on you with demon blood in the womb.”

Meanwhile, Clary gets interviewed and she says that Jace was trying to save everyone by warning them about Valentine. So Aldertree is like, “Oh so he knew ahead of time and didn’t stop Valentine.” It’s actually really stupid, but okay, whatever, let’s go with that.

And Alec is over here screwing up his relationship that has barely even gotten off the ground, by stopping Magnus on his way out (thought they were on a lockdown?). Now Magnus has clearly had enough of everyone and obviously not in the mood for questions like, “You’re not gonna help?” And Magnus just snaps and lets Alec have it and he says “You didn’t do anything for me, you did that all for you.” Alec is pissed that he’s bringing it up at all but they get interrupted by an alarm going off. So Magnus leaves.

Now, everyone is converging into the main room or whatever to see what the alarm is about, although it seems dumb that the announcement would be in one place in this big, high-tech place. It should project to all the rooms. And it should be projecting above, not below, eye-level. And unfortunately the non-urgency sound of the alarm coupled with the weird picture of Jace makes the whole “Wanted: Dead or Alive” announcement look really funny. They essentially ordered a man-hunt, but it’s impossible to take seriously.

The not so great part is that Aldertree blames this decision on what Clary said in the interview. Then he kicks out the Downworlders still at the Institute (really just Simon and Luke) and continues with the whole, “Jace is a traitor because he didn’t kill Valentine.” Sorry, are they scapegoating here? Is that what’s happening? Because that doesn’t make sense. The at most 20-year-old guy, who was alone for all encounters, never killed the seasoned villain who has an entire organization of people willing to die for him. And that makes him a traitor. I feel like we’re just trying to find someone to blame and refocus everyone’s attention so they don’t think too hard about how inept the Clave is. Clary’s only response is to be as stupid as Aldertree and says that they’re not gonna help him hunt down Jace. As if the dude in charge of a building full of people needs the help of three very young adults who obviously don’t like him. Why the hell would he ever in his life want their help? And he says as much and lifts the lockdown for everyone but Clary and Jocelyn.

Luke takes Simon to the Jade Wolf and says he can stay there as long as he wants. Then they talk about the fact that Simon is clearly into Clary and Luke’s advice is to give it a try and be bold. Listen, when your crush just experienced a trauma and is currently overwhelmed by guilt, stress, and complicated romantic feelings for someone else, that’s when you make your move. You heard it here first. Luke gets a phone call, so he walks out, leaving Simon…in the middle of all these werewolves…who, in case we forgot, do not like vampires. They have to honor Simon staying there because of Luke, but they don’t want him around them. So they lock him in one of the storage trailers outside. Which initially seems mean, but actually feels kinda helpful since the place is spacious and has lots of things and no windows so he doesn’t have to deal with the sun – it could be much worse.

On the Boat of Evil, Valentine’s new Shadowhunters are training. Jace decides to bring up the experimentation in the womb thing again, because seriously, what the hell. Valentine goes back with his usual thing of the evil downworlders and their evil urges needing to be combatted. So he decided to fight fire with fire, hence the experimentation. Jace looks down at the water and Valentine demonstrates that there’s a killer force field so maybe no jumping off the ship.

Isabelle takes Clary to “train”. But really it was a good way to get Clary close enough to talk while Aldertree can smirk at them. She could have just talked to Clary in her room, but I guess we couldn’t make the excuse of fanservice with their outfits as easily they went that route. For the record, they do look fantastic. Izzy tells her that Aldertree threatened to de-rune her if she looked for Jace, but she suggests that Clary “knows her enemy by becoming her enemy.” And their two-minute training session is over, while the music weirdly fades out. Seriously, whoever is in charge of this music, stop.

Clary takes Izzy’s advice in the literal way and uses a rune to disguise herself as Aldertree. I don’t understand how these people who have been Shadowhunters their whole lives have managed to not consider this. Someone should have been posted at the exit to check for this kind of thing. Why do people keep getting fooled with this? Clary went to ask Luke if the police knew anything relating to this Jace disappearance and he says he’ll check. Though I don’t see what they could possibly know; if he’s cloaked from other Shadowhunters then he certainly isn’t on the radar of humans. Luke points out where Simon is and when Clary leaves to go see him, he calls Jocelyn.

Since the lockdown is lifted, Alec decides to head out and go see Magnus. But Maryse follows him outside and asks him why he left. Alec tells her that he wants to try to find his brother and she says that Jace isn’t his brother and that they never should have brought him in. Alec is basically like, “Wow, the fuck is wrong with you, you raised him.” And she says that life is full of hard choices. He tells her not to fool herself – she’s saving her own ass. Can we get his dad back instead?

A little later, Jocelyn goes to see Clary and Simon. She says she wants to help find Jace and has Clary give her Jace’s gloves, along with her phone and stele. Then she runs out and locks them in. Ha, hey, the turnaround on that whole “I won’t lie again” thing was really quick. Simon tries to knock the door down by using his super speed. He does get a dent in it, but Clary tells him to stop. So instead they reminisce about getting drunk in 10th grade and Simon says how crazy things have been the past few weeks. I’m sorry weeks? It is so strange watching certain shows over an extended period of time when so much happens. Because it really seems longer – especially with the way they framed this Clary/Jace romance in the beginning. Anyway, Simon figures that’s as good a time as any to tell Clary he’s in love with her, but of course the door falls off, interrupting his declaration.

Let’s go to a couple that I actually like: Alec sees Magnus practicing some kind of magic (while shirtless, which is another kind of magic) on his balcony. Alec is trying to apologize, but he’s distracted by Magnus. Because his back is turned and he’s still doing the magic, not because of the shirtless thing (though it could be a factor). He tells Magnus that he was right about him calling off the wedding for himself and that the whole thing is new for him, but he didn’t mean to take it out on him. Magnus forgives him easily and asks that Alec doesn’t push him away when there are challenges. And he agrees to help Alec track Jace; luckily the risk of that is avoided because Jace and Valentine portal onto a street and Alec can sense Jace’s presence.

The problem is that everyone can sense his presence. So Maryse and Aldertree pinpoint exactly where he is. Jocelyn can sense him too because she’s using a tracking rune. And Simon and Clary are using his phone to track Clary’s mom. Alec and Izzy go to Aldertree to say they won’t “let” Aldertree send in his people to get Jace. But what was the point because they never actually did anything? Like they didn’t try to physically stop anyone, they weren’t delaying anyone, they had no plan. They just get immediately detained.

Valentine and Jace are in front of a vampire den. Valentine is trying to use the situation to prove that Downworlders are bad. This whole part of the storyline is already wearing thin – just let convincing him go. Anyway, Jace hears a scream and goes running inside to rescue the people. And he does get them out, but now he’s surrounded by vampires while in their domain. But wait – what about the humans? Do they have people who come in and erase their memories? These people are going to be traumatized and driven into further turmoil because they’ll think they’ve gone crazy.

Anyway, Jace has to fight his way out, all with the loud dubstep soundtrack that I cannot deal with. The music reminds me so much of those fight scenes in Teen Wolf. Except it worked better than it does here. Somehow it feels like the music doesn’t fit. It’s like a completely different tone. Jace eventually ends up tackled through a window, but manages to get the upper hand on vampire leader Maria. So she surrenders to authority of the Clave and taunts Jace about being a rule follower who legally can’t kill her. So of course Valentine is egging Jace on and Jace is conflicted. But the decision is made for him when Maria lunges at his neck. And it’s worth mentioning that Jace has been holding his weapon pointed towards her this entire time. So when he “killed” her, it seems unclear. Also, she was going in for the kill, so that’s justified yeah?

The problem is that everyone who sees this comes at the wrong time. So Clary and Simon see this happen while, across the street, Jocelyn uses a crossbow aimed right at Jace. So…how did she get across the street without anyone seeing? Did she really take the long way around so she could end up in that same spot? Because logically she was coming from the same direction as Clary and Simon. Also, no Institute members are present. Valentine decides to use this flying arrow to advantage and jumps in front of Jace to save him. Jocelyn loads up another arrow as Clary is running towards her, yelling for her to stop. And then, here’s the really bizarre thing, Jace grabs Valentine and helps him through the portal. And Clary is yelling at her mom like, “What did you just do?!” And the episode just ends.