#i had to drop everything and sacrifice 2 hrs of sleep to get on this last night

[adelphenium]

is it obvious who's my favourite,,💌

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-40)

Word count: 4.8K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Fluff, angst, feels, sickness

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​. You’re a Rockstar <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

No one talked to you today, the whispers though, had escalated. No one was bothering to keep it quiet either. Not just your classmates, even the faculty kept giving you looks, ranging from distrust to pity. Professor Whitman, who never cared much about anything, took a whole minute to find you in the class and give you a once over, like he was seeing you for the first time- Sam Winchester’s flighty wife, back to ruin his life again.

The judgement you could take. The pity was painful. What did they see? A girl who couldn’t appreciate a good man? Or as much as you hated to think of it that way- a girl who couldn't be a mother again.

It came as a surprise when Jody called you to her office after the class. When you followed her in, she closed the door behind and unexpectedly pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry about all of this, Y/N,” she said. “It’s awful.”

You waited for her to let go of you then asked, “How much trouble is Sam in?”

Jody pursed her lips. “I want to say, ‘not much’ but we’ll only know on Monday, I suppose.”

“Are you part of the enquiry committee?”

She nodded. “All of the freshman faculty panel is on there. You have nothing to worry about, Y/N. Your grades are impeccable. You can’t possibly be sleeping with all of us.”

“I’m not even sleeping with Sam!” You let out, frustrated. “And I’m more worried about what happens to him.” You were a student. The most they could do is sack you from the students committee and bump down your grades. 

Jody regarded you for a moment. “The two of you are so similar. It’s uncanny.”

She sighed. “I’ll be upfront with you, Y/N. As much as I’ve tried to shake them, Sam’s priorities are set. Even absent, you were very high up on that list. With you in front of him, there are very few things Sam wouldn’t give up for you.”

You already knew that. But was it right to let him make all those sacrifices for someone as undeserving as you?

The thought plagued you after you’d left Jody’s office, just as it had plagued you for the past two days. Outside, you ran into Madison.

“Oh, I was looking for you,” she said. “Sorry, I missed the first few lectures, but I have news for you. One good, one bad.”

“Bad one first,” you said, apprehensive. 

Madison made a face. “Starting the day after tomorrow, I have no place to live.”

“What? Didn’t you have a lease for the whole year?”

“Lacey is screwing someone, who knows someone else who knows the hostel director. And, well, long story short, my lease got prematurely terminated.”

Anger flared inside you again. This was happening to Madison only because she was staunchly standing with you. 

“I want you to come house hunting with me. My brother’s agreed to help me out with the money. So, I’m good to go.”

The idea popped up in your head immediately. “Why don’t you move in with me?” 

Her eyebrows knitted together. “Meg?”

“Meg’s almost moved out next door. I was supposed to put out an add for a roommate but with everything that’s going on…” Convincing Meg to continue with the move had been very difficult. She thought it was some sort of betrayal to leave you by yourself in all this mess. Cas supported her on that. However, everyone was camping in your living room anyway. 

Ultimately, you had to put your foot down and tell her to move her ass out. Your life might always remain a tragedy. It shouldn’t pause her or Cas’s life. She had still slept on your sofa last night.

“You’re serious?” Madison was trying her best to contain her excitement.

“As a heart attack.”

She let out a loud squeal and tackled you. “This is the best thing ever. We’ll be roomies!”

“Not if you call me that.”

Madison’s laughter rang out in your ears. “Now you’ve already offered. You can’t take it back, roomie.”

“Wait, what’s the good news?” 

Her face split into a huge grin. “I heard from the HR at Acton Gris. They won’t hire me as an intern. But she asked me to apply for the position of summer associate next year. She said my chances looked great.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Yes! I’m thinking of applying for an on campus job this year.”

Madison was sincere, smart and she worked very hard. No wonder good things were in store for her. “Let me talk to Molly today. See if she has some inside intel on vacancies.”

“You’d do that?” Madison couldn’t stop beaming and you smiled right along with her. “The world is a much better place with you in it.”

Not everyone thought that. Following the pattern of the past few days, Rebecca decided to show her face again after the lecture. You had been expecting her at this point. Maybe she couldn’t sleep without venting off her frustration on you. As usual, she had Lacey next to her, who really had gone fully darkside.

“Missing your Professor?”

You saw Madison start, but Rebecca put in. “Oh, stop being her Lapdog, Maxwell. You don’t have to rollover each time she blows a whistle.”

“It’s alright, Maddie,” you said in a calm voice. “As it happens, I do miss him very much.”

“I hope at least the sex was worth it,” said Lacey.

You grinned at her. “Mind-blowing, actually. I remember this one time, I was screaming his name for literal hours. God, the things that man can do. It’s in-credi-ble.” You drew out the last word with a relish.

Lacey’s jaw dropped.

Rebecca recovered quickly. “Christ! You’re shameless. That man’s married with a son. Have you got no shame at all?”

“Weren’t you the one making out with Sam at Maddie’s birthday party in the bar restroom?” You shot back. “I remember you described the bit about feeling his abs in extreme details. He wore his wedding ring around his neck. So how are you not shameless?”

Rebecca’s face reddened in an instant. “What… how…?”

“Doesn’t feel so good when the finger is pointed at you. Right, Rebecca? When you’re the one being put on a spot and your character is being brought into question. It was okay for you to make out with a professor. Why are the rules so different for me?”

“I- I was drunk that night. And I never slept with him!”

“Don’t you dare paint him in that light. As if you were some drunk woman he took advantage of in a toilet cubicle.” You spat. “You’re so desperate that you don’t think twice about lying over something so demeaning. You didn’t touch Sam because at 2 in the night, he wasn’t even there in that bar. So shut that bullshit.”

There was a crowd gathered around you now, and she didn’t like her words coming back to bite her.

“How do you know where Sam was that night?” Rebecca questioned, clearly baffled and out of her element, but trying to salvage the situation and save face.

You rolled your eyes. “We’re having an affair, remember? Keep up, Rebecca. You filed that complaint. Also, don’t worry about his wife, really. She totally doesn’t mind.” You winked.

The murmur around you was starting to intensify. You didn’t know how long it would be before the actual story came out. Or if it ever would come out. Neither did you care. You didn’t owe an explanation to any of these people. 

Rebecca breathed out harshly, and spoke through her teeth, contempt dripping in each word. “You’re disgusting. That child of his-”

“Don’t. Don’t utter a word about that boy,” you hissed, the anger finally burning through. “You’ve done enough harm to Sam’s reputation. But I swear to God, Rebecca, you’ll live to regret it if you so much as dare to think about Max, you deplorable excuse of a living thing.”

The warning was so raw, she flinched back from you as you stormed out. 

Madison did not follow you to the library. She knew when you wanted to be left alone. Attacking Sam was one thing, but you really did want to rip Rebecca’s throat for wanting to bring Max in the middle of it. The fierce protectiveness you felt for him was like nothing else you had experienced before. 

Throughout the following hour, you kept glancing at the door of the library, expecting Max to walk in. Sam had said he would visit. 

Maybe you would ask him to read out to you today. If anything, that could fix your mood.

“Umm… Y/N?”

You looked up to see Molly standing over you. 

“Hey. I didn’t see you there.”

She shuffled from one foot to the other looking at you awkwardly.

You squared your shoulders, realising what she might’ve heard. “Anything you want?”

“I- I wanted to say sorry.”

That brought you up short. “Why?”

Molly ran her fingers through her red hair. “I didn’t know you were… you know… Sam’s wife, and I said horrible stuff to you the other day.”

It hadn’t actually been that horrible. 

“I’d heard the rumours but I swear I didn’t believe a word. Then I ran into Chase Lincoln yesterday. He told me.”

“Everything?”

Molly nodded sadly. “It was wrong of me to make assumptions, Y/N. What happened in Sam’s life was none of my business. And for the reason you left to be so horrifying? I could have never imagined. I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know how to apologize.”

“Stop saying sorry,” you said at once. “I know you’ve always meant well for Sam and for me, Molly. Everyone likes to gossip. It’s no big deal. You didn’t hurt or offend me.”

“There must be something I can do, novia.”

“Never bring it up again. Please. Let’s just forget that conversation happened.”

You saw her eyes start to fill up. “Take the rest of the week off, yeah? Come back Monday.”

“You’re low on staff already.” You did not want anyone’s sympathy.

“I’m not doing this for you,” she said. “Spend the weekend with Sam. He’ll need a distraction more than ever before that hearing on Monday. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Molly disappeared into the librarian’s room before the waterworks started. She didn’t want you to see her tear up so you didn’t follow her in, continuing with your sideways glances at the door. The sharp ring of your phone made you jump.

“Hello?” You answered the unknown number

“Y/N? It’s Alex. Sam left me your number in case of emergencies.” She sounded frantic.

“Is everything okay?” 

“Can you please come over? Max is really sick and… he’s… he’s asking for you.”

*****

Instead of knocking on the door, you straight up punched the security key and barged into the house.

“Max? Alex?”

“Up here!” You heard Alex’s voice. Taking two steps at a time you made it to Max’s room. Your chest contracted, seeing Max in the bed. He was curled up on his side, cheeks wet, face puffy from crying. 

Alex was sitting on a chair next to him, distressed.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, rushing to Max’s side and placing a hand against his forehead. He was burning up.

“I don’t know,” said Alex, “He was fine when I picked him up from school. He said he was feeling sick half an hour ago and now he’s running a fever. I tried calling his usual doctor but it says the number doesn’t exist anymore. He’s been crying and calling out for Sam and... you.”

“Did you try Sam?”

“He’s not reachable.”

“Max, honey, what’s wrong?” You asked as gently as you could. “Do you hurt somewhere?”

He opened his eyes and your heart lurched at the tears in them. “Stomach. My stomach hurts. I want dad.”

“Sam will be home at night. He’ll be with you.” You turned to Alex. “Is he allergic to something?” 

“Not that I know of.”

You were sure he hadn’t had outside food in at least a week, so food poisoning was out.

“Does your body hurt, baby?”

Max nodded slowly, drawing into himself. “And my head.”

“Alex, could you please find the first aid box and get me a thermometer?”

She scampered off to find it, relieved to have someone else take charge of the situation. Keeping one hand on Max’s forehead, you reached out for your purse with the other and pulled out your phone. Thankfully, the number was on the speed dial. He picked up the phone on the second ring.

“Cas, where are you?”

“At the hospital. Everything okay?”

“No. Max is running a high fever. I’d guess around 101. He says he’s feeling sick, and has stomach and body ache.”

There was a pause, then Cas said. “Can you drive him to the hospital? Bring him directly to the paeds ward on the 7th floor. I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.”

Alex was back with the thermometer. 102.3. Thankfully, she had a license and Claire’s car was in their driveway. You asked her to bring it out front.

After she left, you gently coaxed Max into a sitting position, he looked drowsy and was still sniffling a little. “Honey, listen to me. You’re going to have to deal with a little inconvenience, okay? We’re going to drive you to the hospital very quickly.”

“Hospital?” He mumbled. eyes filling up again. 

“It’s just Cas there,” you soothed him. “You remember Cas, right? We all played jenga together.”

Max opened his mouth to say something, instead his eyes widened and threw up over the front of your sweater and into your lap. 

He started crying immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes filled up. “It’s okay, baby. It’s no big deal.” You removed the puke covered sweater and used to wipe away the vomit stuck to your jeans. “See, it’s all gone. No need to worry at all.”

The retching had left him weak and shivering. 

“Just stay put a minute.” You hurriedly tossed your sweater in the hamper by the door, and pulled on one of Sam’s overlarge shirts over your T-shirt. Once back, you grabbed Max’s grey blanket and wrapped it around him. Slinging your purse around your torso, you lifted him in your arms and carried into the car that was already waiting at the curb. You held Max close to your chest in the backseat, whispering soft reassurances in his ears. 

Just as Alex pulled up in front of the hospital, Max threw up on you again. It made him cry harder. You realised it was not just humiliating for him, he was missing his dad terribly. 

“Max, honey, it’s totally okay,” you assured him, kissing his brow. “I used to throw up so much as a kid, gran used to call me projectile Y/N. Just puke all around me all the time. Hell, ask your dad. He held my hair when I threw up in the toilet. It’s my jam. And we’ve got a  towel now. Let’s clean you up, okay?”

Thankfully, the blanket wasn’t soiled, so you could keep it around him as you carried him in the lift.

Cas was waiting for you there. He immediately guided you to a bed and laid Max down on it. You started to step back.

“Y/N, don’t go,” Max rasped out. 

“I’m right here, Chirp. I’m not going anywhere, but Cas needs to take a look at you.”

Max still reached out with his hand. You looked at Cas. He gave you a quick nod and you rushed to Max’s side once more, grasping his outstretched fingers tightly. Cas pressed Max’s tummy, asking where exactly it hurt, then checked the temperature again along with the pulse. You watched apprehensively as Cas pulled down Max’s eyelids and asked more questions. Meanwhile, the chills kept getting worse.

“It looks like he’s caught a viral fever. The nurse outside told me it’s been doing a round at the school. We’ve had many kids this week.”

“Why is he throwing up then?”

“It’s probably the phlegm. I don’t think there’s a reason to worry. I’ll give him an IV with paracetamol and nausea suppressants. He’ll feel much better in a few hours.” Cas hesitated. “Maybe you should ask Sam before we start the treatment. Only he can sign off on the papers. You’ll need the details of the health insurance.”

“I can’t get to him. We’ve been trying non-stop.” 

Would Sam want you to make such decisions on his behalf? Max was looking paler than usual and was clearly in pain. You couldn’t wait till midnight to start him on medication. It was killing you to see him hurting like this.

“Screw the insurance. I’ll pay whatever the bill comes out to be… and I’ll sign off on the papers as well.”

Cas gave you an apprehensive look. “Y/N?”

“Look,” you said through your teeth, “I’m still his legal guardian. I have that right. Just start him on the medication. I can’t bear to see him like this.”

“Alright.” Cas said something to the nurse behind him who rushed out and then came back with a syringe. 

“This is going to hurt just a little, Max,” Cas said, flicking at the needle.

You crouched down next to Max’s head. “You’re my brave boy, aren’t you? One little prick and that will be all. You’ll feel so much better afterwards. Can you do that?” 

Max gave you one quick jerk of his neck. “Close your eyes.” He did. 

Cas pushed the needle into the tiny crease of Max’s arm and you flinched, tears pouring down your cheeks. Max did not even make a whimper. The nurse stuck a piece of white tape over the puncture mark after Cas was done.

“You need to swallow these two little tablets,” Cas said, handing them to Max along with a glass of water. Max looked at you and you nodded encouragingly. Without any fuss, he did as Cas said. You hugged Max very tightly to your chest. “You’re the bravest little thing in this world, you know that? And I’m so damn proud of you. You get every cookie you can think of when you feel better, yeah?”

“We’ll keep him here till the nausea subsides,” said Cas. “Once he feels better, you can take him home.”

Cas seemed concerned, but it wasn’t directed at Max- which made you feel better. It was directed at you. “You better sign off on those papers, Y/N.”

“Can you please bring them here?” You pleaded. “I don’t want to leave Max.” The boy in question was still hugging your middle tightly.

“Of course.”

It was with shivering hands that you filled out the form. You stared at the paper for a whole minute before ticking off on the small box in the relationship to the patient column against mother. Max had fallen asleep in your arms and the tears just wouldn’t stop. You knew he was going to be okay, the fever was already coming down and he had stopped shivering. Sweat dewed up on his forehead. 

Occasionally you wiped it off with the back of your sleeve. 

But you were terrified of this feeling- like the world would go dark if a single wrong thing happened to this boy. There was a point in your life when you were ready to own up to this feeling, looking forward to it even- and then you had lost it, along with every other emotion in your heart. Since the day you had met Max, you’d been dancing along the edge of the precipice of this very feeling- this selfless, immense love. Not ready to take the leap. Scared that you’d be shattered if you did.

Were you scared of being a bad mother? Or were you simply scared of being a mother? 

As you sat there, alone, in the small clinical room, with Max softly snoring in your lap, you realised that what you truly feared above and beyond everything was giving in to feeling this love and losing it again. 

If you accepted him as your son, and then something happened to him, you wouldn’t make it out of it alive. Literally. Not accepting Sam’s love and a place in his and Max’s life was not only a product of your doubts and self-hatred. It was a plain survival instinct. The epiphany was so strong, it left you breathless.

You felt a hand against your shoulder. Cas’s blue eyes were sympathetic in their depth. “You can take him home now, Y/N.” He didn’t try to reassure you beyond it. He had a subtle way of comforting without saying the words out loud.

You called Alex again, who had been reading in the waiting room and she drove you back to Max’s place. He’d been asleep through the ride, right until you put him to bed. Insisting that Alex go back home and study for her exams, you stripped down to your tank top, pulled on a pair of Sam’s tracks. After making sure that Max was still out, you cleaned up your clothes, and the mess on the floor and side of Max’s bed. You didn’t dare close the door of the bathroom, lest Max call out to you and you couldn’t answer. 

Taking the chance, you made some chicken soup for him, and only then did you wake him up, gently. 

Max called out for Sam the moment he opened his eyes and your heart broke again. Doing your best to reassure him that Sam was on his way, you cajoled Max into changing out of his dirty clothes and into fresh ones. 

He refused to eat the soup, but with soft insistence, you persuaded him to finish half a bowl of it. 

“You’ll read to me?” He said in a muted, dull voice as you tucked him back in the bed.

“Of course, sweetheart, what do you want me to read?”

“Anything.”

You looked around the room, your eyes landing on the only book over his nightstand. 

“Alright, here we go.” You flipped to the page with a bookmark. “We could not wait for Atticus to come home for dinner, but called and said we had a big surprise for him. He seemed surprised when he saw most of the back yard in the front yard, but he said we had done a jim-dandy job. “I didn’t know how you were going to do it,” he said to Jem, “but from now on I’ll never worry about what’ll become of you, son, you’ll always have an idea...”

*********

It was stupid and incredibly irresponsible on Sam’s part to let his phone drain out completely. Even worse, he’d left it to charge in the meeting room and forgotten to check it in the next couple of hours while he met with the children in the boy’s home. He came back to 17 missed calls and 23 text messages- from Alex and Y/N. 

Max was sick and he’d had no idea.

Sam had frantically called first thing after going through the texts. Y/N had picked up only to whisper that Max was better and asleep, and that Sam needn’t worry. For the next five hours, Sam worried ceaselessly anyway. It drove Chase up the wall, but he played his music loudly in the car all the way till Sam dropped him off and didn’t point out how Sam was a total maniac. 

The clock on his dashboard blinked 1:22 as he made the bend to his house.

Sam parked the car all wrong in the driveway, barely giving it a second thought before running inside. He should’ve been quieter, knowing Max was asleep, but the anxiety barely kept his legs moving. He would have continued at the same rate through Max’s door if the scene before him hadn’t made him stop.

On the bed, Max was sleeping peacefully. He was dressed in a thin cotton t-shirt, the lower half of his body was covered in his blanket. That wasn’t what made Sam stop. Y/N was curled up beside him, her arm thrown around Max, who was nextled so comfortably in her embrace that he belonged there. Max’s book was balanced over Y/N’s hip, wedged open on the page she had been reading out of. On the nightstand, stood a bowl of cold soup, half empty, along with water and strips of medicine. The table on Y/N’s side held a cooking pot filled with water and a washcloth lay dipped in it. She’d been nursing him- from fever or the sweat, Sam couldn’t say.

Slowly, he walked up to Max, and very very carefully placed the back of his hand on his forehead. No fever. 

Sam looked about himself. The floor was strewn with Max’s clothes that smelled like he had been sick over them. Sam picked up the clothes and carried them to the washing machine. Inside was already a dry load of clothes that belonged to Y/N and him. So Max had thrown up on her. More than once.

Sam knew from the messages that Y/N had taken Max to the hospital- had her friend, whom she trusted implicitly take a look at his son, signed the papers as his guardian and paid the bill out of her pocket.

The thought occurred to Sam as he undressed for the night. In that last message, Y/N had apologised for signing off on Sam’s behalf, as if he could ever be mad at her for dropping whatever she was doing to look after his son, the way a mother would.

Sam understood now why Max had thrown a fit when Sam had forbidden him from seeing Y/N. It had hurt Sam that he couldn’t be enough for Max, that Max was looking for something more in Y/N. But seeing them together now, Sam could see he had been completely wrong. Max wasn’t asking something more, he’d been asking for what already belonged to him- Y/N’s love. Max had been right all along.

Sam pulled the covers and duvet off his bed and dragged to Max’s room where he laid them out at the foot of Max’s bed, so he’d be sleeping next to him on the floor. An alarm started going off on Y/N’s phone, and Sam jumped to turn it off. It was already 2 O’ clock. She had set successive alarms for every hour of the night, Sam presumed to check on Max. Sam turned off all of them. He was home now, he could take care of it. 

He checked Max’s temperature once more- still normal- and then bent down to place a kiss on his forehead. It was almost November. Max always had bouts of viral or flu in the cold months. He should have foreseen it. If Y/N hadn’t been around…

The expression on her face was so peaceful as she held onto his boy, tears sprang into Sam’s eyes. This was everything he wanted in his life. Everything. Right in front of him. He bent down once more and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. She didn’t wake at his touch, but adjusted herself closer to Max on the tiny bed, the book falling off her hip with a soft thud onto the thick carpet. 

Sam lay down on the floor, thinking of a night very long ago when Y/N had fallen asleep on the  sofa in his house, back in Lawrence. He’d read to her from this very book that night- for the first time. Sam had slept besides her on the floor that night as well. A writer would have called the parallel poetic… but Sam saw it for what it was, shrouded in a mist of uncertainty all around him- a haunting ache inside his soul.

He couldn’t thank her for what she’d done for his Max today- not only would that gesture be insufficient, it would be insulting. No, Sam wouldn’t thank her. Instead, he would check up on Max every hour, make her breakfast in bed, and iron her clothes before she woke up, so she wouldn't be late for classes tomorrow. He would pack her a lunch and kiss her goodbye at the door. Maybe she would see through him and understand how incredibly grateful he was for today… and how tragically hopeful he was for the future, when he could do these simple things everyday without the excuse of an unsaid thank you.

“I love you, Darling,” he whispered. “It can only ever be you.”

*****************************

A/N 2: It’s been a hard, awful few days. I must be made up of stronger stuff than I thought I was.

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated. 

Five more chapters to go!

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@gabavaldman​  @im-a-light-child​  @cosicas-cuquis​  @bllyjianne​  @hoboal87​  @i-is-for-inspiring​  @daughterleftbehind​  @wackiekebab​  @mylovelydame21​   @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba​  @superbadassnatural​  @babypink224221​  @badlittlehabit99​   @sams-bubblegum-bitch​   @fandomoverdose666​  @superstarmarvel​  @atc74​  @aiofheavenandhell​  @rebel-author-chick​  @death-unbecomes-you​  @cookiechipdough​  @kbl1313​  @linki-locks11​  @miss-nerd95​  @sunflowers-n-rocknroll​  @stoneyggirl​  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​  @niyahgray​  @traceyaudette​  @blueaura​  @awfulmoons​  @waterlily502​  @spn-ficfanatic​   @thestralsaregood​   @shesnotmaria​   @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou​   @fandomtrash88​  @binxy​   @vulgar-library​   @deanwanddamons​   @beachy2014  

[doriansbutt]

I did it I made a lineup of Mio throughout a year’s-worth of campaign so far. (Also rip sorry I’m on mobile, no read more...)

Miolu’vun “Mio” Vahari, Dalish, blood mage, Grey Warden—Dragon Age RPG

1. I call it his “Episode 1” look. He is one Extra™️ motherfucker. Going on his first real Grey Warden mission. Learning, after two years of being a Warden, what it’s all about. Oof.

2. He convinced a traveling merchant of enchanted items that he needed glasses with the argument “I’m blind as FUCK”. It worked. His perception went from 0 to +1 lmao. He also was busy “healing” his broken heart by sleeping around (not a new pastime for him) and fighting in the underground fighting pits. He also got a cool amulet that I forgot to color on this pic that boosts his DEX by 2. He also has +2 to communication with feline creatures (note: calling someone a “cool cat” only earns DM amusement, not +2...). He also has to make a WILL save or be compelled to pet a cat (or Khajiit) the first time he sees one. He fought a Khajiit in the pits and had to pet him. He was so embarrassed he wound up hitting him so hard he DIED..... Between this pic and the next one, he was also called on by Dirthamen and Falon’din to join with another party member to become their Champions. Mio was tasked with killing the other party member in a ritual sacrifice so she could meet with Falon’din and be gifted a new body. Unbeknownst to Mio, he died in the ritual as well. His vallaslin was changed from Falon’din to Dirthamen, and he became Dirthamen’s Champion. They’re tasked with traveling as north as the world allows to the gate where all the planes are tied and fixing it so the Creators can once again walk amongst the People. In exchange, Mio would learn the cure for the Calling. Mio also eventually uhhh fell in love with Dirthamen. They first had sex on Mio’s birthday last year, and eventually, on the journey, got engaged. Mio had been planning on proposing in the future as a surprise on Dirthamen’s holiday, but as they neared the edge of the Fade Lands, and the possibility of communication being spotty, Mio panicked and proposed earlier. They’re fiancés now!

3. On the journey North, past Thedas and the Fade Lands, Mio and crew were caught up in a sort of religious war, joining with the people they met who followed one of the party member’s gods. In the fight, Mio was struck in the torso with a spear. He also has a power as a blood mage where he can create a blood drop and control it (moving it, spying from it). He can also make it explode causing a LOT of damage. This fight was b r u t a l. Several KOs for Mio and other party members. Mio created one of these blood drops, but he’s/I’m cursed with chronic crit fails, and the spell backfired. It exploded in his face, causing him to go blind and utterly demolishing his glasses in the process. After the fight, as Mio passed out from pain, blood loss, and exhaustion, it was discovered the spear strike actually fucked up his spine to the point of paralyzation. @i-am-dert ‘s character has some magic healing gloves that can heal 1 injury per 24 hours provided it’s less than 24 hrs old. He has to choose: Mio’s spine or eyes. He chose spine. Mio, in desperation, prayed to Sylaise in the hopes of her being able to heal his eyes. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help much then. But she did know of a ritual that could. He’d have to work hard for it though, as it’s not meant for mortals. It requires 10 uninterrupted years of focus. She provided info to him, and worked with him on occasion when she could but ultimately he was left on his own to repurpose this ritual for himself. He worked his ASS off and wound up taking only about 3 months to cure his blindness! I’m so proud of him!!

4. The journey north has been rough. Once out of the Fade Lands, the ability to connect with Dirthamen and the Fade via prayer, etc, became much more difficult. Mio had gotten lucky with contacting Dirthamen for a while, but he’s been on quite the dry streak and with over a month of constant unanswered prayers, he’s gotten very discouraged. He didn’t even get to see him on his birthday this year. He’s also gotten VERY homesick. He has the ability to scry on anyone he’s familiar with on this plane. His brother is back in Thedas, spreading the word about Mio, and growing the religion. Mio is now the patron saint of homosexuality amongst the People his brother has influenced. He has his own vallaslin, too. On his birthday, he watched his brother hold a celebration back in Thedas for Mio, which definitely did not help his homesickness. That combined with unanswered prayers has put Mio in quite the bad place, mentally. Their journey has been via sea this whole time and one night during a terrible storm, their ship capsized. This strange amulet Mio had picked up spoke to him and told him it could lead them to something “only safer than their current situation”. He took it. The journey was horrible. They floated through some inky blackness, unable to do much. He watched several crew mates die, including one he’d grown very close to while he was blind. He woke up in pain and exhausted on a beach, and the crew has all gone through some very drastic magical changes. One Khajiit is now hairless, one party member NPC has total amnesia, another can’t be in the sun at all as it’s extremely painful for her.....it’s all taking its toll on Mio. The trauma of everything has rendered Mio selectively mute at the moment, and he snapped one night, cutting off all his hair he’d spent the past year growing out.

It’s been a long ass journey and they’ve still got half a world to go....

[sholiofic]

Harry visits E1 *entirely too often*; everyone notices. (Set after latest S3 ep) >:)

This is a slightly older prompt, so this ficlet is set before Jesse leaves for E3 and Caitlin goes KF.

--

"You know, man, I think we see more of you now than we did when you actually lived here."

Harry barely looked up from the disassembled pieces of Plunder's gun, spread out all over Cisco's lab bench. "I needed to see this," he murmured, picking up a component and holding it up to the light, "to finish making the modifications to my pulse rifle."

"You mean Mercury Labs' pulse rifle," Cisco said, which got no reaction except an impatient grunt. "Yeah, and two days ago it was all, 'Ramon, can I borrow the oscillation matrix from your speed cannon', and the day before that, you just happened to find a folder of Jesse's grade school homework and had to come over and make sure she had it --"

"Excuse me, it was a paper she wrote in junior high with some ideas on desalination that I think hold real potential for your world and ours." Harry cleared his throat and spun his chair around to deliver a death glare that Cisco had long ago grown immune to. "Is there a point around here somewhere, Ramon?"

"The point is --" Cisco began, and stopped, frowning. He leaned forward.

"What?" Harry asked, leaning correspondingly backward until he almost fell off his chair, trying to keep an equal distance between them.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing," Harry said sharply, jerking it away. Cisco caught it anyway and pulled up the sleeve of Harry's black sweater just enough to reveal the edge of a bandage, its contours vaguely visible through the sweater.

Harry winced and pulled his sleeve down. "Lab accident."

"Uh-huh." Cisco frowned at him, taking in the things he should have noticed before: Harry's exhausted look, his greater-than-usual level of scruffiness. In all fairness, it wasn't that different from how Harry normally looked, or at least how he'd looked during Jesse's kidnapping and his subsequent search for her last year. But it wasn't how he'd looked when he'd showed up with a speed-force-enhanced Jesse in tow a few months ago. At that point, he looked like he had finally figured out how to sleep more than three hours a night. Now he had his strung-out, too-much-coffee look again ... and there was a bruise fading on his neck, just above the collar of the sweater, going to yellows and browns.

"Harry," Cisco said, and Harry looked nervous. "Are you doing the vigilante thing again?"

"Am I -- what? What are you talking about? What thing? When have I ever?"

"Harry, when we first met you, you were running around shooting monsters in alleyways on a foreign-to-you Earth, dressed like a ninja who makes a habit of sleeping in dumpsters. Granted," Cisco added, "that's how you normally dress, but the point stands."

Harry glared at him. Cisco glared back. Harry broke first.

"What do you think, Ramon?" Harry demanded, swiveling away. He picked up a random piece of the disassembled gun, turning it over and over in his fingers. "The metahuman criminals on my Earth -- created by me, you'll recall -- don't exactly take a holiday because our speedster's on your Earth."

"Right." Cisco leaned into Harry's space, forcing Harry to either look at him or turn his back. "And this has got nothing to do with Grodd killing your team, and Jesse staying on Earth-One, and that planet-sized guilt complex, right? Bro, you know I know a thing or two about that one, don't you?"

He didn't mean to say the last part, didn't expect Harry to give him a look that was at first startled and then soft. He always forgot, damn it, how quick Harry really was -- not just science-quick, but quick in ways you didn't expect him to be.

And he didn't mean for his thoughts to circle right back around to Gorilla City and offering himself up as a sacrifice in front of the whole team, but that was what his stupid brain kept doing, mostly at 3 a.m. when he was trying to sleep. And from the way Harry was looking at him, he didn't think he was the only one.

They looked at each other for a long moment, and this time Cisco was the one who broke, pushing his chair away. "You know," he said, looking at the floor rather than at Harry, "between the two of us, I think we got enough issues to open our own library."

Harry huffed a soft laugh. "Just the two of us, huh?"

"Okay, maybe the whole team." Cisco took a deep breath and looked up, and this time when he put a hand on Harry's shoulder, Harry didn't try to pull away. "You know you can call us for backup, right?"

Harry grimaced. "You've got your own Earth to protect."

"Yeah, so, that's not an argument, okay? I thought we got through this whole thing about whether you are or aren't a part of this team last year, man. And that doesn't stop being true even if you move to another Earth."

"Go back to the Earth I came from, you mean." But Harry was wearing a slight smile now, that unexpected warm smile that tended to hide beneath the sharp edges.

"Dude, your daughter's here. You say the word and Jesse's gonna drop everything and come over there to help you."

"She made her choice clear --" Harry began, and then, "Ow!" when Cisco smacked him in the shoulder.

"If you're gonna be an idiot, there's no helping you, man." Cisco swiveled back around to his own workstation.

It was quietly comfortable, working here with Harry a few feet away working on his own project. Having his workspace to himself, with nobody to move his stuff around (and occasionally knock it to the floor in a fit of temper) had been ... well, nice, in the beginning, but it was also weird. He no longer caught himself turning around to ask a question or make a comment or crack a joke -- not often, anyway. He appreciated the uninterrupted work time. He did. Really.

"How in the hell did whoever made this gun manage to avoid jamming the ammunition-switching mechanism?" Harry murmured.

Cisco swiveled around and kicked his chair over to Harry’s workbench. "Aha, I've been looking at that. Look here --" He pointed with his screwdriver. "It's genius, really. Similar to the way an automatic uses the kick from the last round to advance the magazine, except in this case, it channels the kinetic energy into this mechanism --"

"Yes, I saw that, I'm not an idiot --"

"What's going on in here?" a new voice demanded from the door of the lab. "Cisco! You didn't tell me Harry was back. Again," Caitlin added, trotting over to deliver a quick hug.

"Hi. Yes. Gun," Harry declared, attempting to extricate himself as he pointed at it.

"Hi, yes, excuse," Cisco put in.

Caitlin kicked his ankle. "I just came down to let you know I was heading out for the night. Barry and Julian are already gone. HR is ... actually, I don't know where HR is."

"Not nearby, I hope," Harry said, ignoring Caitlin's dirty look.

"Anyway, I'm going home. You should get some sleep too. Both of you, from the look of things," she said with a stern glance at Harry.

"Yes, sleeping," Cisco said, waving her off. "See you tomorrow. Et cetera."

"For the record," Caitlin told Harry, with another quick side-hug, "we like seeing you back here. Come back whenever you like."

She was already gone before Harry managed to fluster his way to some sort of answer. "... thanks?" he said, to the empty doorway.

"Smooth."

"Shut up." Harry bent over the gun again. After a moment, he raised his head. "Were you going home?"

"Not soon," Cisco sighed. It was good, to an extent, having Barry out of his personal space and having his apartment to himself again, but it also meant a lot of late nights watching Netflix by himself at 2 a.m. "You want to order in? Do not say Big Belly Burger."

"They deliver."

"Fine, whatever. You picked it, you make the call. If it's food, I'll eat it. And for the record," Cisco added, "if you do want to crash here, there's a cot in the corner of the lab. Feel free."

"I have to be getting back to my --"

"Hello, I don't hear the sound of food being ordered."

Cisco grinned to himself at Harry's disgruntled noise and swiveled back around to his workstation.

Yeah. He didn't mind not having the lab to himself tonight.

Not that he'd admit it.

[ecotone99]

[HR] Attacked while hunting alone in the woods.

I live in Marilyn, Wyoming, a small village in the Rocky Mountains founded by my grandpa, John, and 3 of his friends: Charles, Alex, and Frank. Our mountain is covered in trees, so many that our village is impossible to see from the ground, and we've actually had a few hikers get lost and stumble upon us.

We been living up here since I was 6. We just got internet up here 4 years ago, and I was gifted a smart phone for my 15th birthday. We aren't some kind of cult or anything, as in we don't have fanatical religious beliefs or perform ritualistic sacrifices, our families just realized that there was much more freedom to have up here than there is in the town of Claire.

We thrive by selling small and large game to the butcher in Claire, who is always low on meat, and trees to the woodworkers. It isn't much, but it keeps the electricity here and it provides enough for new clothes and food. We understand that hunting out of season is illegal, but we are paid under the table, and the butcher relies on us for meat, so he doesn't tell the authorities about our profession.

The other children and I still attend school in Claire, or at least we did until the virus started coming around, and I just finished my sophomore year. Now that school has been out, I have been learning how to hunt large game, such as elk and bears. I have been deer hunting for the last few years, and I'm a pretty good shot with a rifle, but elk are much harder to kill than deer, and bears are the most dangerous predator on the mountain. Or so I thought.

On Tuesday morning, it was probably about 5 in the morning, I decided that I was ready to go out on my first solo hunt. I had heard coyotes in the area the past few nights, but they were especially loud that night, as though they were getting closer. I left a note on my bed, just telling my mother what I was up to, and that I would be back by midday. I will admit, hunting coyotes alone is a bad idea, but I knew that I could handle it. I am one of the best shots we have, and I've been hunting for years now.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to encounter.

As I was sitting in my blind, waiting for coyotes, I heard a branch snap to my left, followed by rustling leaves. I was confused for a couple of reasons. It sounded as though someone had just stood up and started walking, it definitely wasn't an animal. My first thought was a hiker, but it was only 6:30 in the morning and there was no camp set up. I looked in that direction through my scope and was greeted with the most horrifying sight that I've ever seen.

A man was standing there, looking straight at me. Smiling. Not just a grin, but a wide, toothy smile that made me freeze up. He was completely bald, over 6 feet tall, probably weighed about 240 pounds of pure muscle.

"You're a little young to be out here alone, aren't you?"

I don't respond. I can't respond. I can't do anything. I can't move. All I can do is stare at that horrifying smile. And then I noticed the handgun in his waistband. I looked back at his face, and the psychotic look in his red, bloodshot eyes sent shivers down my back. I suddenly realized that this was life or death, kill or be killed, me or him. So I fired.

The round soared 2 feet above his head, as I remembered that my rifle was sighted in for long range shooting. I quickly chambered another round and looked back through my scope.

Nothing. He was gone.

I began scanning the area through my scope, thinking that maybe he had ran away. After my third sweep, I concluded that he wasn't in the area. No obvious displacement of leaves could be seen, and I could hear nothing.

"Goddammit," I muttered under my breath.

That's when the laughing started. The evil, maniacal laughing. And the most disturbing part is that it was coming from right behind me. I heard the hammer of a revolver being pulled back, barely audible over the cackling. I slowly turned around, and just as I saw the man standing right there, in my blind with me, he pulled the trigger, and the bullet went tearing through my shoulder.

As I fell to the ground, my rifle fell outside of my blind. I was defenseless. The man stopped laughing.

"You were prepared to kill me, weren't you? Little shit, answer me!"

His smile was gone now, replaced by a look of pure malice and hatred. But one glance into his eyes revealed the same, psychotic look.

"I didn't mean t-"

"Bullshit! You pulled the fucking trigger! That was your last mistake, kid!"

And with that, he shot me again, this time in the stomach. As I was slowly fading out of consciousness, I noticed the tattoo on his forearm. It was a cracked skull with a snake coiled around it.

Before passing out, I got one last look at the man's eyes. Those fucking eyes.

I awoke back in my bed. At first, I thought I'd been dreaming. Then I realized that the overwhelming amount of pain I was experiencing was abnormal, and I remembered what had happened. My mother was waiting by my bedside, and instructed me to stay still. She informed me that John, Charles, Alex, and Frank had all been out searching for me after they heard shots, and had brought me back just in time to clean my wounds. The bullets traveled straight through me, and hadn't touched any vital organs, and therefore she was able to stitch me up herself.

Three hours later, at about 8 on Wednesday night, my grandpa came and questioned me about what happened. I told him everything and gave him a rough description of the man. At the time, I couldn't remember what specific tattoo the man had, so I just told my grandpa that he had a "black tattoo on his right forearm". After that, I went back to sleep.

Thursday morning, my mom told me that the men had all gone out looking for my attacker. There was 7 in total. It was John, Charles, Alex, and Frank, and the latter 3 had sons that went along. That night, only 4 of them returned, and they were carrying 4 bodies. Charles had been killed, as well as Alex and Frank's sons. My mother took me outside, and some of the other women started digging graves while mourning their losses.

The hunting party had come across a small camp about 6 miles into the woods, and as they approached, the man opened fire with a handgun, killing the three, before John shot him clean through the head. That explains the fourth body.

"Is this the bastard?", asked Alex. "Is this the bastard who shot you?"

I started examining the body. I couldn't identify the man by his face, as my grandpa almost took his head clean off. He must have used his bear rifle. This man was still extraordinarily tall, even without the head. He was also built like a truck. Different clothes, but that doesn't mean anything.

And then I saw the tattoo. A cracked skull with a scorpion on top of it... not a snake. My heart dropped as I realized that they got the wrong guy. I almost fell to my knees when I realized that not only did they not get my attacker, but that the tattoo was clearly a symbol, implying that my attacker is part of a group, and he's still alive. Those psychotic, malice filled eyes are still out there.

I didn't have the heart to tell them no.

submitted by /u/B2177EVEn [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/3jEdJKY