#i think getting the chance to play for free will sway people who otherwise might not have been that bothered

[frogdetective]

nintendo really should do more free game trials like the sparks of hope trial week finally got me to buy it!! i'd wanted it when it released, but other stuff came out so it was postponed and i ended up just forgetting about it as it lost it's freshness. getting the trial reminded me oh i really enjoy this and want to play all of this one now!!

[f1united]

Zoo - DR3 Imagine

Daniel Ricciardo Imagine

Summary: You and Daniel are having a family day and talk about the future :)

Word Count: 2.9k

Please let me know if you have any f1 requests, I am more than happy to write anything for you!

As much as you loved watching Daniel race, you were grateful that you were able to spend some time with him now the season had ended. Although you were lucky enough to attend many races, your work schedule wouldn’t always allow it and you also wanted to still have time on the weekends to catch up with your friends and family.

You’d decided to spend this Christmas in Australia, it was your first away from home, but you were loving the warm weather and seeing a bit more of Daniel’s family. You had met them plenty of times now and were so thankful for how well you got on with them. It was late last night that Daniel had climbed into bed with you, he had been out seeing some of his old friends, leaving you to have the house to yourself that evening.

You loved spending time with Daniel, but it was nice to have some alone time after the busy race weekend. You had a nice long bath and a mini pamper session before painting your nails in front of the tv. You were so tired that you can barely remember him coming home, only noticing when the bed dipped beside you as he pulled you close to his chest.

Your early night may have been the reason you woke up so early the next morning. You weren’t really a morning person but had got a bit better at it over the years. Daniel’s family were coming over for breakfast and then the plan was to go to the local zoo. His nephew loved animals and when you had suggested the idea everyone couldn’t see why not, plus you hadn’t been to a zoo outside the UK and wanted to see if it was any different.

You rolled out of bed and into the shower. Your shoulders relaxed as the warm water hit your skin. It wasn’t as nice as the heat from Daniel’s body, but then you didn’t think anything could ever beat that. You stepped from the shower onto the fluffy bathmat, quickly wrapping yourself in a towel to dry yourself off. You walked into the dressing room opposite the bedroom and slipped on a nice summer dress. You rummaged through the drawers to find some nude underwear that would be discreet under the light colour of the dress but were unsuccessful, realising they must be in the utility room drying with the clothes you had washed yesterday. You placed your towel in the wash basket and made your way downstairs.

The view from Daniel’s kitchen was beautiful, the white rectangular island stretched for metres and looked across to the dining table and lounge area where you’d often have company. The folding glass doors separated you from a huge garden, some of his nephew’s toys were littered around the patio from when he’d last visited and the paving stones drew your eyes towards the pool.

You were lucky to have met Daniel, it had always been you dream to work in Formula 1 and you were beyond grateful to have had the chance to join McLaren in your early 20’s. Of course you knew who Daniel was, and he grew to know who you were. Working mainly at the office in the UK, you didn’t often see him to begin with. You weren’t too annoyed about it, as you fancied the pants off him and found it hard not to blush anytime he even looked in your direction. Your team was more in the background, didn’t attend races and just focused on the work at hand so when a few of your team members began getting invites you were slightly confused. You’d spoken to Zac Brown about it, he had interviewed you for your role and you had got on very well with him ever since. He had just said that your hard work had been noticed and smiled as you left his office.

Your team was overjoyed with the invites to races, it was something all of you had always spoken about. You were more of a family unit, you saw each other for hours on end every day and had grown so close that summer barbeques and birthday get togethers happened regularly, they made great drinking partners.

Whenever you’d see Daniel at a race, you’d wish him good luck as everyone else around him would too. However, you didn’t know he’d noticed how your eyes lingered on his body slightly longer whenever he was in his race suit or how you intensely stared at his hands when he ruffled his hair after he took his helmet off. It wasn’t really new to him, someone was always watching, but something about it being your eyes had got his attention. It made him slightly nervous if he was honest, but the thought of you watching meant he wanted to go out there and do the best he could in the hope that if he saw you after the race you might congratulate him with a smile on your face, and even the thought of that gave him butterflies.

Even though you were unaware of this, there was never a time he’d finish a race and you wouldn’t congratulate him. You’d grown up watching him race and just thought he was brilliant. A mixture of his personality and nonstop smile along with his determination meant that even in a race where Lewis Hamilton might even be about to win a championship, you would still be watching his car. Whether it was in 2nd or 16th, that’s where your eyes would be. Some of his crew has started to pick up on it, although the people you worked closely with sometimes joked about your little crush on him they never mentioned it outside of the group. As much as it was all fun and games, there was a mutual understanding that this was a professional environment and things like that weren’t to be joked about around management, and especially the drivers. It wasn’t any comments they’d noticed, they would tell Daniel after races how you’d been shouting at the screens just as much as they had, often louder. How you’d cheer when he overtook someone, even if it only meant it was for a single point.

Sometimes he’d question why they told him these things, a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice and they all rolled their eyes at him. They’d noticed how he’d look for you after a race, craving the smallest conversation from you and how he would instantly start paying more attention if he heard your name mentioned. They would poke fun at him and wind him up where they could but at the end of the day he understood he was there to race, and that’s what he did.

You were emptying the dishwasher when his arms snaked around your waist and kissed your shoulder before resting his head on it and whispering a small morning into your ear.

“I’ve been calling down for you, what has you in a little world of your own?” he questioned as you both swayed from side to side lightly.

“Nothing” you smiled as you placed the bowl you’d picked up on the side and turned around to face him.

“You sure about that?” he smirked as your eyes found his. “That smile suggests otherwise” It was true, you were grinning from ear to ear.

“Just thinking about when I first started coming to the paddock, and now here I am in the kitchen of the best-looking driver in Formula 1” he let out a small laugh as you spoke. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a small peck on the lips.

“What can I say? I’m great with the ladies” you playfully smacked him on the arm and frowned before laughing and turning your back to him to continue unloading the dishes. He moved his hands down from your waist to your arse as you bent over to grab something off the lower shelf. Then to your surprise he lifted the bottom part of your dress up.

“Daniel!” you laughed as you shot up and turned around again.

“You seem to have forgotten to put on underwear” he winked at you

“That isn’t my attempt to seduce you” you giggled as he started kissing your face. “It’s in the utility room”

“Lame excuse” he continued kissing you, starting to trail down your neck. Just before he could do anything else, the doorbell rang. He looked at you and groaned as you let out a laugh.

“I’ll go and put some underwear on while you let them in” you unwrapped his arms from around you and left a kiss on the corner of his lips as you made your way across the kitchen and he headed towards the door.

“Or don’t” he responded.

“I’m not really planning on flashing anyone accidently today” you replied. You heard him laugh as he opened the door and greeted his family. His parents and sister’s family made their way into the kitchen as you came out the utility welcoming them all with a hug. It had been a few months since you’d last seen them as you hadn’t been able to make it to all races.

“It’s so lovely to see you” his mum spoke as everyone began sitting down on the sofas. You were nervous when you first met his family. The age difference between Daniel and you wasn’t huge, but it had certainly gained some media attention. You didn’t want his family to think you were with him for his money and fame or even think that you were too immature to be with him. You had never brought it up with him before you’d met his parents, but he could sense you were nervous and knew why. He knew there wasn’t anything for you to worry about but didn’t say anything as he didn’t want it to play on your mind. He was right though, they loved seeing the two of you happy together and could immediately see how genuine your feelings for one another were.

“I’ve missed you guys; I’ve been looking forward to today for ages” you smiled. It was true, you loved spending time with his family. You had a relatively small family but that doesn’t mean it drama free, there was always something going on and here you felt slightly more relaxed. Daniel loved that, for years he couldn’t imagine bringing someone into his family in case they didn’t get along but when he saw how well you fitted in he couldn’t help but watch and smile.

“Y/N” his nephew shouted as he ran through the kitchen towards you. He held him arms out for you to pick him up and you placed him on your hip.

“How are you little man?” you asked

“I’m okay, look!” he said pointing down to a scrape on his knee.

“Oh no, how’d you do that?” you asked

“I fell over out there on the drive” he explained.

“Shall we put some cream on it?” you asked, “we don’t want it to get dirty do we?” he nodded his head as you spoke and carried him over to the medicine cabin and sat him on the worktop before grabbing some antiseptic cream out and rubbing it into his knee.

“Look Uncle Daniel!” he shouted across the kitchen to get his attention as he showed him his knee that now had a plaster on.

“Wow, Auntie Y/N has fixed you!” he gasped making the little boy giggle as you picked him up and put him down on the floor so he could explore wherever he wanted.

“Auntie Y/N?” you questioned Daniel as you began to get food out of the fridge for breakfast. You spoke quietly, you had never been called that before and didn’t want his family thinking that you were the one who wanted to be called that.

“What’s wrong with that?” he replied as he grabbed the eggs and bread from the cupboard next to you.

“Just haven’t been called that before, I don’t want him to think he has to call me that”

“He always calls you Auntie Y/N” Daniel said casually which caused you to freeze a bit. You had been dating for about 3 years now but hadn’t really considered that his nephew had grown up with you around and didn’t know any different. You continued to place the bacon next to the stove and grabbed a frying pan out from the drawer below.

After breakfast was over, you all headed to the zoo and spent the day wondering around visiting all of the animals. Seeing Daniel with his nephew made you smile, they had so much fun together. You also secretly loved when he went into dad mode like when he was making sure that he’d had enough to eat or drink and making sure he had enough sun cream on and wasn’t too hot. It made you excited for the future, not that you had spoke about it in much depth. You both wanted kids but hadn’t discussed when, you just figured it would happen when it felt right.

You all headed back to the house after the zoo, it was getting quite late, so you’d all ordered a takeaway. Daniel’s parents left not long after while the rest of you had some drinks, agreeing that they would all spend the night in the spare room so his nephew could stick to his routine. You didn’t drink much, only a gin with dinner. You wanted Daniel’s sister and her husband to have the chance to get a little bit drunk so agreed to stay sober in case something happened to the toddler and someone needed to be able to drive.

He was currently asleep leaning against your chest while you were all sat on the sofa’s chatting.

“I’ll put him to bed” Daniel’s sister went to get up from the sofa, but the sudden movement sent her head spinning slightly and caused her to sit back down. Everyone let out a little laugh as you volunteered yourself to carry him to the room and make sure he was settled for the night. As you carried him upstairs he stirred a little. Placing him in the bed he started muttering about the animals from today, you spoke back quietly, careful not to wake him even further as you stroked his head lightly and he drifted back to sleep. As you got up to leave, you jumped at Daniel standing in the doorway.

After shutting the door slightly so the noise from downstairs wouldn’t disturb him, Daniel spoke up. “I thought I’d see what was taking so long” he was slightly drunk, his eyes a bit drowsy compared to their normal alertness.

“I’ve been gone for about 2 minutes lover” you replied as he embraced you in a hug.

“I know I just like seeing you with him” now he was just being soppy. You laughed and took his hands into yours as you stepped back.

“I like seeing you with him too” you winked.

“Maybe,” he whispered as he hugged you again, “we should give him a cousin” he lifted you up as he spoke, and you wrapped you legs around his waist. He started walking towards the stairs but then walked past you towards the bedroom.

“Daniel Ricciardo we have visitors’ downstairs” You laughed as he carried you into the room and placed you on the side of the bed.

“They won’t hear if we’re quiet” he suggested as he ran his hand up your thigh.

“No but they’ll definitely know what we’re up to” you ran you fingers through his hair as he leaned over you before pulling him into a kiss. You continued for a minute or two until you could feel him starting to get hard against you. “We can continue this when everyone’s gone to bed” you voice was almost a whisper, you wanting this as much as him but not wanting to be rude to the couple sat downstairs, although if you’d have been drinking too you were sure it would be a completely different scenario.

It wasn’t until late the next morning after waving goodbye to his sister, brother in law and nephew that Daniel had mentioned your conversation from the night before. You both headed back upstairs to the bedroom, you were meeting some friends for lunch and both needed to get ready.

“I wasn’t kidding yesterday” You were doing your makeup in the ensuite mirror as he dried himself off from the shower. You were concentrating more on his body in the reflection than where you were spraying your setting spray. “I want to have kids with you”

With Daniel being older, it played on his mind that by the time you wanted kids, he’d be too old. He hadn’t wanted kids when he was your age and expected you to feel the same but he also didn’t want to be an old dad, he wanted to be involved with as much as he could for as long as he could. Even you thought you’d be a bit lost for words when having kids were mentioned. When you were younger you had wanted to have a secure career path and always imagined having kids in your late twenties, maybe even early thirties. However, things were different now. You loved your job and you had the man of your dreams alongside you.

“Let’s have a baby then”

[novelconcepts]

anything that involves freckles. go nuts

Gonna go ahead and double up on a recent request of @scavenger-rey‘s, while we’re at it. Just for giggles.

Jamie has a surprising number of freckles. Not that it’s Dani’s business what hidden secrets are stamped into her skin. Not that Dani needs to be looking at her skin at all. 

Not that she can help it, either, with Jamie doing things like this. 

“You look warm, Miss Clayton,” Hannah points out, depositing a tray upon the little table with an arch smile. “Perhaps you’d like to take a leaf out of our groundskeeper’s book?”

Dani shoots her a sharp look, remembering just in time two very important details: one, that she has only known Hannah for two months, and therefore is not quite at the slapping at her arm in frustration stage of friendship; and two, that Hannah does not know what’s going on in her head every time Jamie’s around.

Hannah might suspect with the certainty of a particularly clever detective breaking down a fourth-grader’s criminal activity, but she does not know, and that has to count for something.

“She doesn’t--usually do this.” Heaven help her, was that her voice? Her voice, which is generally high and quick and never tinged with that particularly raw shade? 

“She does when it’s hot enough.” Hannah sounds entirely unimpressed. “Every time, I have to spend half the afternoon explaining to Flora why she’s required to keep all her clothes on.”

Someone should probably have that talk with Jamie, Dani thinks wildly. Someone should definitely explain to Jamie, in no uncertain terms, how dangerous it is for her to be waltzing around the grounds in overalls and a sports bra, her hair pulled out of her face. Someone should definitely get across to Jamie how it is utterly distracting, and not the least bit professional for someone like Dani--who is a co-worker, who is meant to be keeping children out of trouble, and has somehow found it’s much harder to keep herself out of it instead--to deal with.

“Water,” Hannah advises. “Before you keel over. Would you like me to tell her it’s making you uncomfortable?”

Judging by the raised brow, the tilt of Hannah’s smile, the barely-restrained note of amusement in her voice, it’s clear she knows uncomfortable isn't exactly the word. Dani shakes her head. 

“No. I’m. I’m fine.”

“Ah,” Jamie says cheerfully, right on cue. “Hannah, my love, you are a godsend.”

She’s just there, pressed nearly to Dani’s back, reaching over for a glass of ice water. She’s there, and her skin is rosy with the lightest sunburn, and Dani thought Hannah was being cheeky about the whole keeling over jab, but on second thought--

“All right, Poppins?” Jamie’s free hand has wound around her forearm, she realizes. Jamie is looking at her with mild concern, she realizes. Probably because she is quite literally swaying in place.

“Hot,” she croaks. There are freckles on Jamie’s hand, too--and wrist, splashed at random up her arm. There are more than a few on the bare curve of her shoulder. She’s still mentally tallying them up when Jamie presses her gently toward a chair. 

“Didn’t dress for it,” she observes, looking Dani over with worried eyes. “Should take off that jumper before it kills you.”

Have to keep it on, Dani thinks nonsensically--though, it’s true, she had dressed for the gray of this morning, not the heatwave the afternoon has become. Still. Have to keep it on, and maybe add a few more layers, besides, because she can’t let herself linger on what she might look like to Jamie otherwise.

Can’t linger on how Jamie’s eyes might drift over her skin if she were to strip down to a tank top and shorts. Can’t linger, worst of all, on how it might feel if Jamie were to pull her aside--

“Poppins?” Jamie is waving a hand up and down in front of her face. “Right, enough of this. With me.”

There’s a gentle command in her voice Dani finds herself following without thinking. She catches herself taking two steps away from the chair, pauses, stands there looking helplessly back at Hannah.

“I,” Hannah says magnanimously, “think I can manage the children. Go.”

“C’mon,” Jamie adds, and now her hand is in Dani’s somehow, her fingers tightening around Dani’s like this is the most normal use of her body. She gives a light pull, and Dani is suddenly trailing along at her heels, trying desperately not to stare at the back of her neck, the skin shining up from the break in denim at her side. 

Freckles, she thinks wildly. I shouldn’t know she has freckles. 

“You still with me?” Jamie is tugging her, she registers, toward the greenhouse. She gives a shaky nod. “Good. Would hate to have to give you mouth to mouth.”

“You don’t give mouth to mouth for sunstroke,” Dani replies in a voice she still doesn’t recognize. Jamie sends a smile over her shoulder.

“No? My mistake.”

It’s not flirting, Dani tells herself. Jamie is her co-worker, one who keeps to herself and doesn’t have any reason at all to flirt. Jamie is just being kind, worrying over her now, because Dani’s gone and lost her mind over skin and freckles and the spot at the back of Jamie’s neck that leads her brain helplessly into wonder what that tastes like territory--

“In,” Jamie says, gesturing to the door of the greenhouse. “Got a spare set of clothes you can borrow.”

“I have clothes,” Dani points out. Jamie laughs.

“I’ve seen your clothes. They’re not going to help today.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” This is good. This, a mild flush of irritation, distracts nicely from the way Jamie looks crouching beside a trunk Dani’s never noticed beneath one of the tables. 

It almost distracts from the way Jamie looks up at her, a teasing grin playing around her mouth. 

“They’re well and good,” she says, “for carting around after the little beasts. Here. Got nothin’ in pink, ‘m afraid.”

She’s holding up a white t-shirt with the sleeves shorn off--the frayed threads at the shoulders suggest Jamie cut them free herself, possibly in the middle of a workday--and a pair of denim shorts. Unable to find a polite method of declining, Dani accepts. 

“I’ll...just go up to the house to change, I guess--”

“Nah.” Jamie twists around, hands in her pockets, making a point of gazing off in the opposite direction. “Silly to waste the time. Go on, before Hannah thinks I’ve lured you off to commit a murder...”

It’d be kinder, some part of Dani thinks. Standing with Jamie’s clothes clamped against her chest, sweat creeping down the back of her neck, watching Jamie tip her head back and whistle, is entirely painful. 

Particularly when Jamie, evidently registering the lack of rustling fabric, chances a glance over her shoulder and adds, “Unless you need help there, Poppins?”

Dani grimaces. Jamie grins. For a moment, she thinks the rest of the afternoon will become this: staring at one another in a sweltering greenhouse, Jamie watching her like she knows exactly what Dani has been trying so hard not to think about lately.

Jamie smiling like she’s got no problem with Dani counting up all those freckles. 

“Okay, okay, turn around.” She heaves a sigh, waiting for Jamie to rotate back before hauling the sweater over her head. It’s impossible to deny the relief that floods in the minute she’s free of it, and how much better Jamie’s shirt feels against her sticky skin. 

The same cannot be said for the shorts.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she says before she can stop herself. They are, admittedly, nearly the same height and close enough in build for most things--but does Jamie really wear these? 

“Only when it’s this fuckin’ hot,” Jamie says, still facing the other way. Dani closes her eyes. “Ah, you didn’t mean to say that part out loud, did you?”

“Just--they’re so--” They’re not shorts, she thinks, trying to tug down the hem. They’re like two tiny squares of fabric haphazardly stitched together. The pockets are longer than the pants themselves, for Christ’s sake. “You wear these around people?”

“Just the ones I like,” Jamie says idly, and Dani hates herself a little for being disappointed she’s never seen them before. 

“I can’t face Hannah like this, she’ll laugh herself sick.”

Jamie, at last, twists at the waist. Her eyes drift down Dani’s frame, her lips parting slightly. 

“They, um. Feel less short when they’re on me.”

Dani is going to combust, and then there will be nothing to worry about. No freckles. No shorts. Certainly not the drag of Jamie’s eyes up her legs. Dani combusts here and now, and gets out of all of it almost painlessly.

“No, hey.” Jamie is closing the gap between them, reaching out. Her hands find Dani’s, prying her clawing fingers away from the hem of the shorts. “If you feel weird, you can put your jeans back on. Was only trying to...to help.”

Her voice has gone weirdly slack, Dani registers. Weirdly breathy. Her eyes are still wide, still fixed on Dani’s legs, a color rising in her cheeks that has little to do with her sunburn. 

“What?” Dani asks--less because she wants to know, and more because she can’t stand not knowing. Jamie’s fingers are soft around her own, her breath seeming to hitch in her chest.

“Nothing. You, ah. Have freckles.” Jamie gives her head a shake, blinking rapidly. Her hands fall away from Dani’s. “Never noticed before.”

She’s staring at Dani like she’s never seen her before, and Dani suddenly wonders what courage would look like in this sweltering room. If it would look like hooking a hand around the strap of Jamie’s overalls. If it would look like pulling Jamie in. Letting Jamie press her back against the nearest table. Letting Jamie’s fingers trace up beneath the hem of these ludicrously-short shorts. 

Courage, she thinks, would taste like sweat and mint, like freckles mapped under a curious tongue. It would sound like Jamie’s voice muffled against her neck, the snarl of a zipper lowering in an otherwise-silent jungle of glass and greenery, the thump of a shirt tossed recklessly to the ground--

“Right,” Jamie says, and swings back a step. Her smile is sitting crookedly on her lips, a funny little tilt that makes her look younger, somehow. “I should--should get back to work. Just. Just toss ‘em wherever.”

Courage, Dani thinks, wanting so badly to grasp her shoulder as she turns. She could. She could close her fingers around nearly-bare skin and sink her mouth against the back of Jamie’s neck. She could slide a hand up Jamie’s stomach, pull her backward, feel her tremble under a hungry kiss tattooed to the freckles at her nape. 

She could. 

If she were just a little braver. 

But Jamie is already walking away, one hand tousling her hair nearly out of its bun. Jamie is already walking away, faster than Dani’s ever seen her walk anywhere. 

You, ah. Have freckles, she’d said in a voice like a woman dreaming. Dani bites her lip. 

The shorts, she thinks, could have their uses after all.

[sepublic]

Lumity and the Illusion Coven Leader?

           So I’m really interested in Through the Looking Glass Ruins. Not only because it’s another important Gus episode (and the implications of him being at Glandus and how that can connect to the premise of Escaping Expulsion), but also…

           Luz and Amity are at the library- I’m not sure WHICH library, it could be the one at Glandus, or the one in Bonesborough. But given the mention of ruins, and how the background image that reveals the synopsis shows us what appears to be the desolate ruins of an arena of sorts, surrounded by cloaked statues… It makes me wonder. Aside from the obvious possibility that these statues were real witches petrified by Belos or some other entity;

           The title is interesting, because it invokes the sequel to Alice in Wonderland, itself a fantasy tale about a young girl entering a fantastical world… In other words, an Isekai, which fits Luz’s whole schtick in the Boiling Isles! Obviously I should be careful about using the reference in the title as a basis for my speculation; Sense and Insensitivity references Sense and Sensibility, but otherwise has zero correlation with the book as far as I can tell, beyond the idea of King being of higher social prestige and that sort of concept I guess?

           In Through the Looking-Glass, Alice goes through a large mirror to enter a fantasy world. The imagery of mirrors intrigues me, because it directly invokes the symbol of the Illusion Coven… And we can bet that the Coven Heads will make their appearances this season, especially with how Season 3 is too short and more likely to be a final battle/climax of sorts. Not only that, but we also have the other plot of Gus, who is an illusionist… And of course, the library reminds us of Lost in Language, and the twins Emira and Edric, who are both also illusionists.

           I don’t think the twins would be messing with Amity and Luz again, but then again, maybe Odalia and Alador are making them; We don’t know what will happen at the end of Escaping Expulsion, but if Amity and Luz are still hanging out, perhaps they’re feeling pressured. The concept of illusions also ties back to Luz a second time… Remember Witches before Wizards? And how a puppet demon, Adegast, used illusions to put Luz through a whole segment straight out of her favorite fantasy books, of a special chosen one travelling through a world with wacky companions?

           Adegast’s plot appealed to Luz’s sense of fantasy, her desire to feel special and important, as validation/justification for being so ostracized back home. With the idea of illusions, and fantasy worlds, not to mention literary references because Luz and Amity are at a literal library, and it’s brought up the idea in some fans’ heads of like… Luz and Amity going through a fantasy segment taken straight out of Alice in Wonderland.

           So, to get it all out of the way; I think the Illusion Head will play a role in this episode, debuting in Through the Looking Glass Ruins as the main antagonist. I suspect that each coven leader will get their own episode introducing and featuring them as antagonists and characters, so an episode hearkening back to Lost in Language, which had the illusionist twins… With a side-plot of Gus the Illusionist, who wants validation; Not to mention the idea of fantasy stories come to life, feeling special, and how that’s reminiscent of Adegast…

           I think Through the Looking Glass Ruins could be a major episode for Luz and Amity and their characters. Perhaps as a major stepping point that helps to tie together previous events thematically, the Illusion Head might place Luz and Amity in an illusion even more grand and powerful than what Adegast could dream of; One that places the duo in a saccharine fantasy world. Luz and Amity of course have to navigate this fake world and its inane rules, while exploring their own relationship… Perhaps Gus will come into play, or his story will just be a parallel, I can’t tell. But again, it calls back to Luz and Amity having their own experiences with illusionists, so having them face off against the most powerful Illusionist of all, together, would be a nice culmination of those respective arcs!

           What’s interesting is the mention of ruins, and the image we see… It reminds me of that one article description for a ‘Witch Arena’ at the titan’s knee (which foreshadowed Adventures in the Elements), but aside from general ruins, we don’t see any duels occur there, nor is there reference to that site hosting sacred rituals and events for witches. Perhaps we’ll see this actual arena here, or not… This arena could just be part of the elaborate illusion, hence why Luz and Amity encounter it in the library, or they get transported. Maybe the library is next to the ruins, if it’s the one for Glandus or one besides the Bonesborough one.

           (Personally I’m hoping for more Amity and the library lore, possibly the return of that librarian who seems to be on good terms with her.)

           Like Adegast, the Illusion Head could taunt Luz and Amity with visions and deception… Perhaps hearkening back to Enchanting Grom Fright, by showing illusions of Luz rejecting Amity or vice-versa. Luz and Amity of course have to see through and realize what’s real or not, as part of their character development, Luz’s especially with recognizing reality and not being deluded by fantasy. For all we know, the Illusion Head might cruelly play with their feelings, by having ‘Luz’ or ‘Amity’ confess their feelings to the other… Only to sadistically reveal it all be fake in the end.

           Perhaps the ruins will be a part of this illusion world that Luz and Amity confront the Illusion Head at, by the climax of the episode! Or the ruins are/hold some entrance to this fake world… Regardless, we could see Luz and Amity dealing with their ‘fantasy’ of being friends, and possibly more, with the other… Both might want more, but be afraid that’s just fake in the end, or just hopeless romance that only happens in their little fantasy books that they love, and the Illusion Head might capitalize on these insecurities. Perhaps they’ll try to sway Luz with a perfect world, only to change plans when she’s clearly used to that; And Amity, she might need Luz’s help, as she hasn’t faced this kind of dilemma before. Mirrors are symbols of self reflection, so perhaps this will give Luz the chance to reflect on her own feelings for Amity and realize them, to look back at past interactions with Amity and realize the hidden meaning and all new context that comes with what she learns about Amity...

           Maybe the Illusion Head will try to manufacture situations, trick the two girls into ruining their friendship, thinking the other doesn’t like them, acting rashly, etc. Perhaps they’ll create a fake scenario that leads one girl to act at the cost of the other, for whatever reason… Maybe Amity will be so caught up in the idea of a perfect world where everything is ideal; Where her parents love her, where her siblings respect her… And where she can confess her love to Luz, and Luz reciprocates. Luz may or may not stumble across and see, and realize, how Amity feels… And we could get some painful angst skin to Grom rejecting Amity’s invite as Luz, but dialed up with the Illusion Head’s more immersive, fake reality.

           Perhaps the despair created by the Illusion Head leads to Amity turning to the side of the Emperor’s Coven, losing hope in finding a better life for herself because that’s just ‘fantasy’. Rejecting her favorite childhood stories like Otabin and The Good Witch Azura, attempting to be more ‘mature’, which could also lead to a brief discussion about how it’s okay for older people to enjoy stories for younger audiences! It could contribute to Amity’s constant feeling of shame for who she is, that feeling of inadequacy and not being enough, hiding behind a façade; Hiding the truth beneath an ‘illusion’, which of course the Illusion Head might poke fun at. Maybe offering a literal illusion to help Amity pretend and fit the image of the Emperor’s Coven?

          From what we’ve seen, the Illusion Head could be a pair of twins like Emira and Edric, or like Gus, an individual operating alongside a copy. Amity might be directly reminded of the twins and her relationship with them, so this could be an opportunity to explore her relationship with the twins and their past together, perhaps showing what happened between them in the fallout between Lost in Language and Adventures in the Elements.

          We could see how she feels about them and vice-versa, maybe look at their interactions throughout the past, with the Illusion Head possibly even taking their appearance and poking at Amity’s memories knowingly. Maybe they pretend to be the twins, hurting and mocking Amity, only for her to acknowledge that while they ARE flawed, they’ve also grown and the real Emira and Edric would never do this- This could help to develop the relationship with Amity and the twins, and her own potential disdain for illusions because of that association with her siblings.

          Another thing to note with the Illusion Head is that amongst their two selves, one face smiles, the other is frowning; Invoking the image of the Comedy and Tragedy masks. Fitting with the idea of written stories and fantasies, perhaps the Illusion Head will operate as two halves, one light-hearted, the other morose; And both toy with the idea of Luz and Amity’s story being a tragedy, or a comedy.

           The dual symbolism, two sides of the same coin concept, could come with Luz embracing Comedy, the happy ending, while Amity sides with Tragedy, the sad ending. Maybe Amity breaks free of this conception and her and Luz get their happy ending together… I can see the Illusion Head being a MAJOR theater nerd, and thus invoking the kinds of stories and tropes that the two kids are familiar with. And Amity will of course be reminded of Emira and Edric, making her more insecure and uncertain, while Luz might call upon memories of Gus to guide her. Luz and Amity are parallels and opposites, again, two sides of the same coin, and this might be paralleled with the Illusion Head being composed of two halves, with it yet to be seen if both halves are separate individuals or not; For all we know, it could be a witch and an illusion so immersed in the other that they’ve both forgotten who is the real one!

           Am I saying Luz and Amity will kiss and/or realize their love for one another in this episode? I can’t say for sure… But this episode might play on the idea of their relationship and its progression regardless. It could end in Tragedy, or Comedy, what a duality- Maybe even both! We’ll just have to wait and see… I’m excited for this, for more Gus, and I wonder if he’ll show up at the end to help, or provide more insight into the idea of Illusions, which will then enrich the other plot of Luz and Amity! The audience might gain a better appreciation for the mechanics of what the Illusion Head is doing.

          And of course, the illusions here could lend to a trippy nightmare sequence where the animators can REALLY flex and mess with our heads and the visuals, confusing both the in-universe characters and the real-life audience as well, as we’re uncertain of what’s real or not- Perhaps the ending of the episode could play with this question, with Luz and Amity not entirely sure if what happened was totally real or not or some elaborate dream, and the Illusion Head’s status and actions also uncertain.

           So, what do you guys think? Will we get an episode dedicated to Luz and Amity’s relationship, to their pasts with fantasy, with illusions, entering an unusual world together, taunted by the Illusion Head while another major illusionist, Gus, operates elsewhere? Could the Illusion Head serve as a thematic exploration of duality, of opposites and parallels, and how Luz and Amity’s relationship with one another, their dynamic, is built on those foundations?

          Will we see Emira and Edric here- Perhaps with Luz and Amity… Or even with Gus, acting as ‘cool kids’ who ARE impressed by him, unlike the students from Glandus High? I’ve always wanted Gus and Twins interaction… I think Gus is also an interesting duality, parallels and opposites, two sides of the same coin dynamic with the twins; Emira and Edric are individuals who are like one, while Gus is his own person split amongst himself and his clone! Both with a knack for showmanship, and wanting to be noticed on some level. 

          Maybe when all is said and done, Amity grows a greater appreciation for Gus, Emira, and Edric, getting to interact with Porter properly for once, and helping repair her relationship with the twins; Imagining their surprise at Amity suddenly hugging them, only for the twins’ playful wit to melt away into endearing appreciation… Only to finish it off with a practical joke, because they can’t be TOO sappy of course!

          I’m really fascinated and I can’t wait to see what we have for store in this episode… Sounds like the first five episodes alone are ALL going to be jam-packed with very important, major events! Wasting no time I see… Alas, because Season 3 is shorter than anticipated.

[justa-mysticmess]

mc’s attempted forced engagement

submitted by @manacharlotte​

hello!! thank you for your lovely request, and sincere apologies it took so long for it to be posted :) i think i might be getting back into the swing of things now though ^^;;

sorry it’s so long btw! some of it also became repetitive but, i did my best ^^;;  hope you like it!! enjoy! xoxo

.

jaehee

it had been easy for mc to open up to jaehee, likely because their relationship had been based off of strong friendship and respect

also because jaehee was such a quiet person and a great listener

in fact, mc felt they had opened up to the other too soon

however, when they were kidnapped by one of their father’s loyal and unfortunately talented henchmen, jaehee was glad that mc had confided in her about their forced engagement beforehand because otherwise, jaehee wouldn’t have a clue as to where to start looking for mc

she wasn’t surprised that she didn’t even need to convince the other members of the rfa, but what did surprise her was jumin’s investment in finding mc

it made her feel warm that her ex-boss cared about her and her s/o this much despite them having rejected his offers to work for him

with jumin joinining in the search for mc and his many resources which he wasn’t shy to use, they were able to not only track mc’s whereabouts (they were kept locked up in their father’s mansion in a rural setting), but due to 707′s unparalleled research and hacking abilities, they were able to get a lot of info on mc’s father, his business dealings, and family background

707 also went so far as to research all about mc’s fiance and any flaws or shady areas in his family business or background

they all showed up to mc’s father’s mansion, and jumin ensured they did so in style

jaehee was surprised that even v took time out of his busy schedule to join them, and both him and jumin posed as her guardians of sort

with an impressive entourage that included a rising idol, a modern-day prince, a celebrated photographer, and well settled youths, jaehee knew they made heads turn, and she knew she was the envy and desire of many a high-society people

that wasn’t what she was interested in, and she knew neither was mc. however, to sway mc’s father, this was all very important

they were received well enough- rich people had traditions and protocols to stick to after all, if for nothing else then for appearance sake

they weren’t allowed to see mc, and jaehee was seething on the inside, but she kept a calm and professional facade

they were invited to have traditional style tea with mc’s parents, and jumin smartly led the conversation towards business

jaehee, having had more than sufficient experience working with jumin, and then running her own cafe with mc, easily joined the conversation and she could tell how impressed the old man was, although he didn’t outright say anything

mc’s mother on the other hand, looked fondly at jaehee and commented about how smart and experienced jaehee is especially for being so knowledgably at such a young age. jaehee tried not to let it get to her head, but she knew her face was warm

they stayed a week, only seeing mc at dinner time where everyone was to come dressed formally, and mc took every chance to sit next to jaehee and talk to their friends. it warmed jaehee’s heart and also pulled at her heart strings to see that mc had become so lonely in the few days apart that they tried to drag out dinner as much as they could, because as soon as their plate was empty, they were chaperoned back to their room. like a prisoner

it was v and 707 who revealed not only the failing business of mc’s fiance’s family business, but also their overall bad decisions which had led their company to be in debt now. money was the only reason they wanted their son to marry mc

mc’s father was horrified and at first blamed them for trying to ruin his business deal, but v calmly reiterated that even if the wedding happened, only the fiance’s family would benefit from their business and would soon run mc’s father’s business into the ground too

it was 707 who decided to open up about his research into the family business and told mc’s father that his business was struggling too and he needed to be careful with his deals

the engagement was broken off that very day by mc’s father, and they were allowed to at least roam the mansion freely, however, the job wasn’t done

they still ad to convince mc’s father to accept jaehee’s proposal, which they had yet to put forth. mc’s mother overheard some part of their discussion, and she was down for it. she told them a weakness even jumin hadn’t considered yet

just remind him his business, family, and mc would be looked down upon and questions would be raised about the sudden end of the engagement. and remind him that to show their was no weakness on his part, mc needs ot be married off or at least engaged again as soon as possible, she had told them with a knowing smile

they were grateful for the advice and knew what to do after!

touching all his pressure points at the next dinner, where he looked haggard already about the sudden end of a deal which would have sunk his business, jumin put forth jaehee as a candidate for mc to be engaged to

they were expecting for it to take at least a couple days for him to give them a response, so everybody was pleasantly surprised when mc’s father agreed to the proposal by the end of dinner!

jumin

the moment he returned to the penthouse and the staff were in a disarray, his first thought was that elizabeth 3rd had escaped again

he did feel frantic, but not so much as he once would have, assured that his cat wouldn’t have gone too far or for too long

but the moment the butler informed him that mc had left to go get some groceries hours ago and never returned, he heard sirens go off in his hed

he first called 707 to start immediately tracking mc, and secondly called v

he was secure enough in their relationship that he knew what happened to v and rika wasn’t what was happening to him and mc, but he needed his friend’s support

someone had taken mc, and he would find them and make the fools suffer by throwing them in jail

707 had mc’s location within an hour, and the three left immediately

only once on the way did jumin remember to inform jaehee and put her in charge till he returned, feeling some pity for the poor woman because she would be worried too despite being too professional to say anything outright

they tracked mc to a warehouse on their father’s land where mc was being held hostage, according to 707′s deductions probably because they attempted escape again

saying that jumin was livid at the information was an understatement

jumin didn’t waste time in having the warehouse surrounded by his security team and within half an hour, mc’s father came with a team of his own

seeing who it was, mc’s father’s temper immediately calmed down and he became almost jovial with jumin, who remained icy because of the man’s treatment of mc

it was v who turned on his charm, and handled the situation so it wouldn’t get worse

mc’s father invited them for tea to his favourite teahouse, and jumin joined very reluctantly, only after leaving 707 at the warehouse to ensure mc was safe and wel-looked after till he could come back

once at their destination, jumin wasted no time in getting to the point

“break off mc’s engagement with whomever you’ve arranged it. mc and i want to get married, and i want it possible without any... inconveniences,” he said it with a straight face and a controlled tone, trying very hard not to erupt at mc’s father. after all, he would be his father-in-law one day, and mc probably wouldn’t appreciate him disrespecting their father

v just calmly handled the situation as mc’s father spluttered at the sudden declaration and demand

they didn’t have to worry, though- it was clear that out of any bachelor’s mc’s father had been interested in, jumin was on a whole different level and class

jumin, v, and 707 went back home a couple days later, and they took a newly engagement-free mc with them, soon to be engaged to jumin in an extravagant celebration 

saeran

it almost doesn’t come as a surprise when mc vanishes on him- after all, how can good things last for him?

however, he’s been working on getting better, thanks to mc, 707, and even rfa, although he still holds an uncalled for grudge against them

fighting the internal negative-talk playing in his head, saeran immediately contacts 707 about the situation and his suspicion that mc might be in danger, right before putting his own hacking skills to use

it’s just something to fall back on at this point and comforts him to know that saeyoung will be looking out for mc too in case his own emotions get the better of him

he finds the general area mc is being held in, but  leaves 707 to hack mc’s exact location in favor of hacking their mobile and calling them

their phone has been altered and cut off to prevent calls, but saeran is grateful that the idiots left the device with mc so he is still able to hack past those blockers

707 drives them in one of his racecars, going for speed and stealth, while saeran continues to track the signals and try to call mc

mc’s voice on the other end is a bit confused, and also very hoarse. they must have been crying or screaming

he quickly asks mc if they’re okay and who the hell dared to kidnap them.

mc speaks in a hushed tone but he can hear the relief and excitement in their voice as they tell him that in was their father’s men who kidnapped them in order to force them into an arranged marriage

mc also tells him that the place is well guarded from the outside but that they are locked away alone in some sort of dark room as punishment for breaking off the engagement and not agreeing to marry

saeran’s heart breaks but more than that he is pissed. he wants to make mc’s father and fiance’s family suffer, but mc quickly tells him to not hurt their family or parents

“just get me out and away from here... i never want to come back here but i don’t want anyone harmed either”

it makes him smile to hear that mc didn’t even think twice about asking him to come pick them up from wherever they were, saeyoung seems to have heard it and also looks proud

“don’t worry mc! we’ll get you outta there in no time! you just stay put and ready!, he calls out in a loud and carefree tone, but saeran can see the tightness around his eyes from here. good, he thinks. saeyoung is also angry on behalf of mc

they reach just as the sun sets but wait till midnight, when the guards change shifts all over, to break mc out

having been given the exact of the change, and the general locations of guard placement, and the general layout of their family vacation home (because that is where mc figured out they were being held when saeran told them the general area of their location), both brothers break mc out within 15 minutes, and they are on their way out and away before someone even figures out mc is missing

out of a sudden bout of boldness and a mix of adrenaline, saeran proposes to mc on the drive back tot he city in their get-away car, and mc blushes and splutters and agrees even as saeyoung throws his head back and cackles, proud that his twin finally made this decision

saeyoung/707

it honestly took saeyoung a lot later to even notice mc was missing

it wasn’t that he didn’t pay attention to mc or didn’t care, but mc also generally kept to themselves, especially while he was busy doing his regular work

when he finally got done with his work for the day, the first thing saeyoung noticed was the absolute silence

he checked his texts and saw the last thing mc had texted him was a cat video from last night

saeyoung decided to call mc and see where they were at and if they want to have a midnight snack for dinner

when the call wouldn’t connect, he immediately knew something was wrong and started hacking into their device in order to reach out and track, but before that remembered to shoot off a text in the rfa group chat to see if mc was hanging out with one of the members

when the call connected, he was already anxious because tracking the device showed mc was far away at this point

mc’s voice was hesitant and confused on the other end, but saeyoung still sighed in relief because he knew they were unharmed so far

what he wasn’t prepared for was the knowledge that it was mc’s own family’s bodyguards who had tracked and kidnapped them in order to take mc back and continue on with their forced engagement

hearing this, he froze up for a moment- on the one hand, he couldn’t give mc much and if they were married off to this rich fiance, mc would have an easy life and be taken care of

on the other hand, he knew he loved and cherished mc and fully understood that mc loved him back

before he could think about what to do in this situation- to be selfish or ensure mc’s future, mc’s voice broke him out of his stupor: “saeyoung, come get me right away. i can’t do this... especially now that i’ve found you”

they didn’t sound defeated or frightened, instead, he was proud and happy to hear the note of determination in mc’s voice

thanks to mc’s words, his choice was already made for him

he took v to mc’s family home the veyr next day, both of them arriving in style- v having pulled all the stops for the first time to impress someone with his appearance and wealth

it warmed saeyoung’s heart to know that v did it for him!

with an impressive and reliable person like v posing as his guardian, and saeyoung managing to charm mc’s parents thoroughly with his humor, wit, and success at a young age, it was relatively easier than they’d expected to sway mc’s parents and get their blessing for saeyoung to marry mc 

v/jihyun 

the whole fiasco with rika and her past role in v’s life meant that mc found an opening to tell v early on in their relationship about the forced engagement they had run away from

v had been nothing but understanding and supportive, even reassuring mc that if it came down to it, or even if mc just wanted to speak to their family, he would arrange it for them and accompany them

mc was thankful for the gesture but hadn’t wanted to reach out to their family yet, still feeling betrayed by their parents for trying to push them into that relationship

so, he immediately noticed when mc went missing, especially because they had a habit of updating him about their whereabouts when mc and v were  away from each other

immediately employed 707′s help to contact mc as their mobile was being blocked

v, jumin, and 707 were already on the way to where the tracker was showing mc’s current location when 707 managed to connect the call to mc

despite being worried sick, v talked to mc calmly and ensured they were unharmed and in good health 

asked mc if they could stall their parents and the engagement till v got there before mc could tell him what had happened

could feel mc’s instant relief that he understood their position and was on his way to them

when they reached mc’s family manison, they were given vip treatment because of jumin’s status, v’s fame, and seven’s apparent wealth

still, they weren’t able to see mc’s parents till dinner that night, but v did not waste any time

despite mc not being allowed to join them all for dinner, which v assumed was as punishment for running away and not agreeing to the arrangement, v managed to remain civil and pitch his proposal

he straight up confessed to being mc’s lover and wanting to get their parents blessings for marrying mc

their parents were a bit surprised, but didn’t hesitate for long to agree

the four of them left mc’s family mansion a week later, along with the rest of the rfa members, after having just celebrated v’s and mc’s engagement

yoosung

yoosung returned home late, as usual, since he had internship at jumin’s office right after classes

mc was a busy person too but they would always be home when yoosung returned from his internship

he immediately felt something was wrong when he saw all the lights were out and everything seemed untouched

becausse even if mc went out, they would come home from work in order to freshen up before leaving with friends or going out on their own

but there was no sign of them having returned at all

not wanting to panic for no reason, yoosung checked his messages to first see if mc had sent any text telling him they would be coming home late or something

sure enough, there were no texts 

BUT there had been a miscall around 3 hours ago!

now a bit worried, yoosung immediately tried calling them back but the call would’t connect

finally panicking, he did thoughtlessly called his boss in a frantic worry

jumin was less than impressed at having been called at this time of night but he understood yoosung’s situation somewhat. he calmly told yoosung to ask seven to track mc’s phone- if the device was with them, it could still be traced even if it was shut off

yoosung thanked him before calling seven

seven had mc’s location under 10 minutes, but when he told yoosung of the area, he felt a bit shocked and scared

he remembered that was mc’s hometown! if mc was there, then something horrible must have happened to theri family, or there must have been some other emergency!

jumin reluctantly allowed yoosung to take jaehee, because he understood this was a delicate situation and did care for mc as a member of the rfa and a friend. hearing of the situation, zen came along for protection and offering any help

when they reached the location, thanks to seven guiding them through call, they were shocked to see that mc came from considerable wealth

they were allowed inside after they introduced themselves as mc’s friends and they were invited into a fancy sitting area and served tea

jaehee commented that the house seemed pretty tranquil so it probably wasn’t an emergency reason that mc had come here, but that it was odd that they hadn’t come to see them yet

almost as if on cue, mc rushed in just then, breathless and looking a bit wild

yoosung froze up seeing them in such a state, but zen was on his feet immediately and steadied mc

upon seeing the three of them, mc calmed down a bit and took a moment to collect themself

it was jaehee who took mc’s hands and held them between hers till mc stopped shaking

“i thought i’d never see you guys again”

it broke yoosung’s heart to hear mc say that, their voice hoarse as if they’d been screaming or crying

then it hit him. “you mean you didn’t come here on your own mc?!”

mc flinched and jaehee told him to lower his volume just as zen grabbed his shoulder in support and warning

mc composed themself and shook their head. after looking about to make sure nobody else was there, they leaned forward and whispered that their family had basically kidnapped them to continue the engagement they had run away from

zen offered to break them out of there, but yoosung was looking livid

before mc could reply, yoosung spoke up instead, “hey, zen? hold that offer”

he got up and headed for the sitting room’s entrance, when jaehee asked him where he was going

“to talk to mc’s parents. if they reject my proposal, we’ll break mc out”

zen laughed, feeling immense pride at yoosung taking such a stance, and jaehee was pleasantly surprised

mc watched yoosung walk out, feeling proud and a bit bad because they knew that the four of them would have to make a run for it after all. but it warmed their heart to see yoosung ready to confront their parents for mc’s sake

zen/hyun

zen and mc had taken the rare opportunity for privacy to spend time together

they went out for a pleasant stroll on a pleasantly chilly evening 

they’d actually been about to go home after a lovely night out and were nearing zen’s bike when it happened

they were surrounded and mc dragged away from him

despite being outnumbered, zen got a few hits in, and received the end of a punch, but that didn’t stop him

he was on his bike and chased them to the outskirts of the city, but hsi bike soon ran out of gas and the van drove off with mc trapped inside

he felt frustrated and heartbroken wanted to scream as he picked up mc’s cracked cell phone from the ground

but before anything, he called seven

he couldn’t get used to technology easily and so he normally didn’t like it too much, but he was grateful for seven being on their team especially now

since zen was used to memorizing lines for his roles, he had actually managed to memorize the number plate of the car even in the relative darkness

he gave all that information, trusting that seven would find them, and moved the the side of the road in hopes of an empty taxi

seven told him it was bets to come back, regroup and then leave, but zen wasn’t having it

so, he was pleasantly surprised when seven drove up to him in less than half an hour, with yoosung in tow

“you’re so troublesome you know that?” he said, but zen could tell he didn’t mean it

yoosing was just frantic for mc’s safety and informed zen than jumin was sending a security team to go with them

ever since mc had come into his life, zen had managed to mostly smooth things out with jumin, because mc was also friends with jumin. although he sometimes still thought the man was a jerk.

it wasnice to know that he cared for mc too and sent security

seven moved to the backseat of his car and told zen that he would drive, “since i’ll be tracking those kidnapper’s van” he explained

sure enough, the promised security guards arrived in a black minivan just as zen got into the driver’s seat

they reached the mansion mc was being held hostage at just as the sun started to rise. it was massive, but zen was occupied with thoughts of how he’d mess up the face of whoever plotted this right after he had mc safe and sound with him

seven let out a low whistle before dropping another bomb on them- “this is actually the place mc grew up in!”

zen blanched just as yoonsung exclaimed “but what kind of kidnappers bring you to your house?!”

knowing mc wasn’t really on good terms with their family for some time, zen didn’t feel completely relaxed yet, “let’s find out”

the three of them emerged, immediately flanked by jumin’s security team

they were immediately approached by a stern looking man dressed in a black suit, asking who they were and what was their business there

seven reacted with his usual lack of tact (which surprisingly always worked) and claimed that they should be ecstatic that a famous star was visiting them

although zen appreciated what seven was doing, he didn’t have patience right now. he needed to make sure mc was alright. but before he could demand anything, he felt a sharp pain in his leg and looked down to see yoosung pinching his thigh without even looking at him

by then, the man looked the three of them up and down, his gaze lingering on zen, before taking in the security detail

he let them through, noticing that they were probably important people, and a butler opened the mansion doors before they could even knock, welcoming them inside

they were given vip treatment, and allowed to keep a guard each with them

they were allowed to freshen up before being taken to meet the head of the household, who they knew now would be mc’s father

the man immediately recognized zen, and was further impressed by their obvious wealth and status considering the cars they had arrived in and the security they had brought with them 

after chatting with them for a bit, during which zen barely held himself back from demanding mc’s whereabouts, the father asked them, “i am confused as to what business fine, accomplished young men like you came here for” 

not being able to wait any longer, zen spoke before seven or yoosung could, “we’re here to get mc”. when mc’s father simply raised a brow, zen continued, “i’m going to marry mc. and i was quite upset when they were kidnapped on our date”

“hm? i did hear the man with mc put up quite a fight”

zen could feel poor yoosung sweating bullets by the now since the turn of the conversation, but he could also feel seven’s resolve from next to him.

“where are you holding mc? they better be unharmed.”

the man scoffed, “i would never harm my child. or let them harm themself,” he added with a look aimed at zen

instead of responding to the jab, zen grit his teeth “i will never let you take away mc’s choice. i won’t let you do this to them”

if the words had any effect on the man, they couldn’t tell, 

but the moment he was about to press a button, seven caught him. “if you do that, i will leak all your business weaknesses to your rivals,” he said brightly

zen almost laughed at the man’s face changing colours

before the situation could escalate further, he decided to take a slightly different route- after all, he wanted to be a partner mc could be proud of and make sure he didn’t burn any bridges with mc’s family

“listen. you’re mc’s father. i don’t want to cause you any harm. and if your information gets leaked, it will be hell for you. i actually want to do this peacefully. when mc was first taken, i feared the worst! i was ready to do anything. that still hasn’t changed. i’m not leaving without seeing mc. and if they want to go home with me, i’ll do everything to make that happen”

in the end, zen didn’t know if it was because he was impressed by zen’s earnestness and devotion to mc, or because he believed mc would listen to him, but mc’s father did allow the three of them to meet them

mc hugged him so fiercely that for a moment he forgot everything else. but then he was reminded that mc had missed him and longed for him just as much as he had missed them

after checking for their physical wellness and making sure they hadn’t been crying too much, he asked mc if they wanted to go home

he honestly thought mc’s father would throw a fit or start some drama, but the man actually allowed them to go, even if he looked reluctant

it was a week later, when zen and mc were curled up on their couch back at home, that mc got a text from their father saying that he would like to take care of the expenses for their engagement and that he hoped they had better times ahead

[davidmann95]

Thoughts (if any) on DC's April 2021 solicitations?

Let’s take ‘em in order! I should be able to muster up a comment on just about everything one way or another.

Green Lantern #1: Oh this is gonna be bad. Heard only the worst about Thorne’s Future State: Green Lantern, and I assume Jo Mullein’s DCU debut will be wasted here to either function as some kind of ridiculous ‘popularity contest’ with Teen Lantern for who gets the bigger push, or as a way to put TL over with a few “good work kid, you got a future” comments. Also, and granted I don’t know how Morrison will end or this will begin, is the New Guardians angle being immediately dropped?

Robin #1: Dope suit, art, and premise, but it’s Williamson so I don’t care.

Batman: The Dark Knight #1: I’ll read this and I expect to like it, but between this being Kubert’s first big Batman project since Master Race, the ‘old but not quite retirement age yet’ angle, and the title, I’m concerned the shock ending here is that it’s actually a stealth DKR prequel.

The Next Batman: Second Son #1: So they really are committing here, though weird that this kinda makes Ridley’s Future State book basically a longform teaser for this. And I’ll get it as it comes out since it turns out this won’t be in that John Ridley’s Batman collection after all - sorry Dustin Nguyen, I love your stuff but I won’t buy an entire trade of material I otherwise already own just for one new story by you.

The Batman & Scooby Doo Mysteries #1: I got that whole great-looking Scooby Doo Team-Up run by Fisch for free on Comixology, I should read that sometime and see if this’ll be worth getting too as well, because it sounds like a hoot.

Challenge of the Super Sons #1: Glad people who want it are getting it, I do not care.

RWBY/Justice League #1: WILL BE GETTING A POST ALL ITS OWN

Action Comics #1030: His powers waning definitely won’t help the standard pre-run fuming by a lot of Superman fandom, but it’s an interesting pairing with PKJ apparently doing mainly cosmic Superman adventures so I’m curious where he’ll go with it. That it’s particularly cited as being tied to Death Metal might validate my suspicion that the new ‘everyone remembers their entire mainstream publishing histories’ thing will play into Johnson’s description of Clark really feeling his age at the start of the run. And Janin on covers even before he gets in on the book proper! And that Midnighter description!

Superman #30: This sounds like where Johnson’s gonna start with that worldbuilding he touted, and I’m curious; definitely reads in this instance like him shoving Clark and Jon into some swords-and-sorcery-esque territory he’s familiar with.

American Vampire 1976 #7: Not reading, don’t care.

Batman #107: I assume ‘the events at Arkham Asylum’ are the ‘A-Day’ ominously brought up in Future State solicits. Tynion Batman, Jimenez as the regular artist now, whatever the Unsanity Collective is, all entirely my shit. More importantly than any of that though, GHOSTMAKER BACKUPS. And drawn by Ricardo Lopez Ortiz, artist on Steve Orlando’s excellent The Pull! Dope!

Batman: Black & White #5: Any other issue and ‘Jamal Campbell doing a life story of Nightwing’ would probably be the highlight, but in case you somehow hadn’t heard Gillen/McKelvie are making their DC debut on a Batman vs. Riddler story here, absolutely wild.

Batman: Urban Legends #2: Even more excited for this now that I’m onboard for the Grifter and Outsiders stuff given how much those features pleasantly surprised me in Future State.

Batman/Superman #17: Injecting it isn’t enough anymore, I need to be on some kind of constant IV drip with this book. I was wondering whether it’d take the premise to further generational riffs or follow a history of mass-media Supermen and Batmen, but instead it’s veering off in a direction I never could have guessed and I couldn’t be more excited.

Batman vs. Ra’s Al Ghul #6: NOTHING CAN STOP THE ADAMSVERSE. NONE MAY DARE TRY.

Batman/Catwoman #5: Wondering how this Harley involvement plays in - I don’t imagine it’s quite what it seems given how King’s written her before. And love that Joker by Mann on the cover, major Clown at Midnight vibes.

Catwoman #30: No reason to assume this run won’t continue to rule.

Crime Syndicate #2: Dammit, I don’t think this book is going to be good, but I’m kinda tempted.

Detective Comics #1035: Wouldn’t be psyched, but Dark Detective was another pleasant surprise so I’ll give this a chance.

The Dreaming: Waking Hours #9: Again, not reading.

Far Sector #11: Sucks a little knowing we’ll never see that little ‘Young Animal’ label in the corner again after this wraps. At least it’s going out on its highest note.

The Flash #769: In a vacuum this would sound dope but I have less than no faith in this, and goddamn that’s a terrible cover.

Harley Quinn #2: I’m sure it’ll be fine, no interest.

The Joker #2: I wanna believe Tynion will be able to make this work, he keeps talking like he has more freedom on this than he has some other books, but everything about this reads like the price he has to pay for relative post-Joker War freedom on Batman.

Justice League #60: It’s Bendis/Marquez on Justice League, lots of people will complain but I’ll mostly dig it. More interested in Ram V briefly getting to write the main crew in the JLD backup.

Man-Bat #3: I’d ask why this exists - and as a matter of fact I still do - but checking out some of DC’s digital-first output recently I see Dave Wielgosz has something on the ball, so maybe he’ll be able to make this work? Perhaps I’ll check it out in trade someday if worth-of-mouth is on its side.

Nightwing #79: I maintain, this is gonna be huge. And clever move to make for how to justify Nightwing keeping up his standard way of business after Bruce loses most of his money.

Rorschach #7: A comic I will purchase and let’s continue leaving it at that.

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? #109: DC’s highest-numbered comic (that hasn’t gone through an interim renumbering), astonishing. Not getting it myself, but respect.

Sensational Wonder Woman #2: Can’t say this sounds like my thing.

Suicide Squad #2: I’ve been swayed into checking out the Future State debut, but that’d have to really blow me away for me to follow into the main book.

Superman: Red & Blue #2: Sadly if unsurprisingly DC’s clearly not stacking this with AAA attention-grabbing names in the same way as this latest version of Batman: Black & White, but there do seem to be some interesting names from outside the usual big two roster here. And the main and Bolland cover may disappoint but holy cow that David Choe variant.

The Swamp Thing #2: I have no doubt it’ll be incredible but time and again I learn I simply don’t have it in me to care about Swamp Thing regardless of the objective quality of the effort put into him.

Sweet Tooth: The Return #6: Another one I’m not interested in.

Titans Academy #2: Oh lord so this is where they stuck Billy Batson.

Truth & Justice #3: I continue to have no idea what if anything the unifying idea of this anthology is supposed to be.

Wonder Woman #771: Wonder Woman as troubleshooter for mythological mishaps isn’t a permanently sustainable or desirable status quo but I’m down for it for as long as it lasts if it’s any good (though that Immortal Wonder Woman preview...concerned me, in spite of Jen Bartel’s jaw-dropping art).

So that’s 19-23 out of 37 I’ll be getting - if DC’s standard for success with Infinite Frontier is the proportion of their line people will be checking out, I guess it’s winning with me.

[efrmellifer]

Receptum

5.55, but with more Wymelliferel and Etien's thoughts

Etien stood in the Rising Stones, swaying from foot to foot (a habit she’d picked up in the months she’d been away from Scion duties), the Scions around her—both those new and old, dyed in the wool and relatively new to the movement.

Of their number, she stood closest to Estinien. But of course she did; to have done otherwise would have been the more peculiar choice.

Still, she was attentive as the Scions were invited to another meeting of the Alliance in Ala Mhigo. Not just the Alliance this time, apparently, since they had guests from the beast tribes. All of them. She hummed, only loud enough that Estinien heard it. And maybe Y’shtola, since her ear swiveled back toward Etien.

Ambitious, Etien murmured, not caring who heard her. Estinien chuckled.

She tapped the toes of her boots on the floor while Alphinaud accepted the invitation to the Alliance meeting, still rocking just a little until Estinien caught her by the elbows.

“You’re making me seasick,” he said, voice low so only she could hear him.

The Scions continued talking about who should go, and blah blah Thancred and Y’shtola because summoning,aye, all right.

Then Thancred turned to her. “I think we’ve alldone our part in that endeavor, don’t you, Etien?”

She froze completely, hands coming up to her chest as she nodded, eyebrows pulling together and pitching upward in the middle.

Urianger took the floor from her, stating—rather than asking—in fairly certain terms that he would be staying behind. For the defense, of course.

Then Estinien chimed in. “I’m not coming, either. Aymeric will be there, and I’d rather not be interrogated.”

Etien turned, breaking his hold on her arms easily. “Estinien, he’s just worried about you. We’veseen you more often than anyone else, especially current company, and even we worry.” She let a lock of his hair drift off her curled hand, the way one would release a puff of smoke.

He crossed his arms, obstinate. “Hmph. I will not let you persuade me.”

“Suit yourself, I’m just telling you that Aymeric isn’t trying to pin you down or breathe down your neck. He’s worried about you because he loves you. Because you’re a Scion now, and he knows—” She remembered who she was standing among, and shut her mouth.

Thancred carried on with saying those were staying, stay, and everyone else come along.

“Well, I’ll see you later then,” Etien mumbled, stepping away and towards the door into The Seventh Heaven.

Estinien clicked his tongue as she left, watching the ruffles of her skirt swishing.

“Hath trouble come to Paradise?” Urianger asked, sympathy in his tone and his posture. “Firmly didst thou hold her still, and harshly rebuke her expression of her and Aymeric’s love.”

“You stayed behind,” he replied. “Are you fighting with the other Scions?”

Urianger almost laughed. “Nay, but neither have I taken any for lovers.”

Estinien huffed again. “That is not the problem. They worry about me, I worry about them; their method of worrying is far more doting than mine is. It can be stifling.”

“Ah.” Urianger nodded. “Well, thou wilt see much more of her in the coming days, both as thy paramour and as thy comrade. ‘Twould behoove thee to make thy peace with how she may tend to and treat with thee on and off the battlefield.”

A soft groan from Estinien. “I suppose you have a point.”

***

Again, Etien was sat next to G’raha, but the two of them and Ishgard’s Lord Commander—or was he Lord Speaker for these meetings?—were all sat towards the middle of the table this time.

She sat, looking dazed and happy as he managed to rally the beast tribes, praising them and the component members of the Alliance representation for their strengths, uniting them under their shared purpose. And then, she perked, returning to a more active focus (it was plain in her eyes) as he drew them all metaphorically under the shared banner.

Etien blinked a few times as Aymeric met her eyes.

“I submit that the honor of naming it should go to the Scion whose brave efforts have done so much to unite Eorzea. What say you, my friend?”

She blushed, even inside her ears, then dipped her head to think. “I would call it The Grand Company of Eorzea,” she replied.

Alphinaud turned to her, shocked as he commented, “But that’s the name I…”

She just nodded while the other Alliance members voiced their approval, including the assorted beast tribes. When invited, she joined Alphinaud outside to talk.

Catching the tail end of the conversation, Aymeric sidled up to her before she left to speak with former Crystal Braves.

“It was astoundingly…generous of you to give the new Alliance Alphinaud’s name for it.”

She shrugged. “Well, for one thing, it was better than anything I was going to come up with on the spot, and for another,” she slipped her hand into his for emphasis, “I already got everything I wanted from that time in the Scions’ collective life. I figured I might as well pass it on to Alphinaud, so he could see his dreams come true.”

“You, too, see him as your younger brother then, I take it?”

Etien sighed, her grip loosening, but she didn’t let go of Aymeric’s hand. “Aye, I suppose I do, hmm? He and Alisaie--”

“Closed the gaping wound that came with leaving M’ertle and M’ynstrel,” he finished for her. “I understand. Well, conceptually. Unlike you and Estinien, I never had siblings I lost and found succor in the Leveilleur twins.” He chuckled. “When we say ‘the twins’ now, we shall have to distinguish between whether we meant the Leveilleurs or our own children.”

Etien’s eyes lit with mirth, but she didn’t quite laugh. “You’re right. Though ours look more distinct; only people aware of the details of their birth would know them to be twins.”

“Fraternal twins,” Aymeric pushed gently.

“Well, so are the Leveilleurs, unless there’s something I don’t know. But, it would be their story to tell, and none of my business unless they made it my business.”

“That is enough about the twins for now. Either set.” Aymeric’s voice had sunk closer to a whisper, so Etien looked up at him, listening attentively. “For all my oratory justification, I offered you the chance to name the new alliance so you could choose at least onething on thisgods-awful road you keep getting goaded along.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” she murmured in response, now looking away to hide some of her expression, letting go of his hand so she could fold hers in front of her. “I only regret that I had to do what I did.”

“Had to?”

“I cannot be selfish, or even self-interested. They won’t let me.” She lifted her chin. He knew that motion.

“Please do not cry, my dearest. I could not bear to see it, not after… after everything,” he added, his tone similar in her ear to how it had sounded years ago, when he’d told Estinien that without Alphinaud, Estinien would be dead.

He took her into his arms. “I do not mean… you are free to cry. If not to me, then to whom?” He stroked her hair. “My heart will ache with every tear that falls, but I am your shield, and you are safe with me to express what you must, however you must.”

But she just sniffled. “You’re right. I have to be strong.”

Alphinaud called to her, and she lifted her head from where it rested under Aymeric’s breastbone.

He rested his fingers along her chin, even as she turned her head to look toward the sound of her name. “Go, Etien,” he instructed her softly. “You only need to be strong for a bit longer.”

***

Etien’s mind wandered as she rode her griffin (Nyx was currently resting at the Holy Stables after some medical procedures, well cared for by House Fortemps, as she always had been) through the bluffs of Gyr Abania.

She knew Alphinaud was going to travel the whole way by aether, and he’d be waiting for her, tapping his toe against the stones at Castrum Oriens, but having to slow down a little as he waited for her to fly from Porta Praetoria wasn’t going to kill him. Plus, these griffins were ungodly fast; she was halfway across the Fringes. She was practically there.

She waved, in case anyone in Castellum Velodyna could see her, and held tight for the last few moments of her flight.

She came to a landing by coasting over the top of the castrum’s gates and touching down before she and her mount smacked into the aetheryte, then wandered around looking for Alphinaud, pleasantly surprised by how lively the castrum still was—packages went in and out, training and patrols were still taking place, the whole nine yards.

She tried to pay attention as she asked Riol and Alianne for their thoughts on the Crystal Braves, but as soon as Ilberd came up, her mind began to wander again, wanting to think about anything else.

“One bad apple” made her think of the apples that occasionally grew outside the Gates of Judgment, and then the sweet, crisp apples of Il Mheg. Oh, she missed Feo Ul.The pixie had made their way through Ishgard and tapped on the window of the house soon after the kits were born, eager to see the less-than-literal fruits of their sapling.

They’d tipped their head this way and that and cooed about how cute the twins were, assessing them as they admired. According to them, Landric looked like he would have an affinity for magic, and they traced the curve of Betula’s cheek, then laid their hand upon it the way they did to Etien so often. “A hardy shrub of a girl you have here. A pretty, sturdy little Lacecap.”

They fluttered away from the cradles then, sitting on Etien’s shoulder. “I expect the others will be envious that I have a new set of twins to play with, when these two get bigger. Everyone in Il Mheg misses Alisaie and Alphinaud.”

“Aww,” Etien murmured. “I wish the rift weren’t quite so much of a yawning chasm,” she added, “so they could all come with you.”

“But they can all enjoy it by proxy with their king’s stories. And I imagine they may be itching for one now.” They took off from their seated position, wings flapping hard at first, but slowing as they evened out in the air (and didn’t have to worry about taking Etien’s hair with them). “Take care, Etien, until my next visit.”

She nodded, with a cheery “you too!” and waving as they made their usual wide loop and disappeared back home.

Etien snapped from her reverie when Riol’s voice grew more boisterous, laughing about how glory hunters were stopped before they could start in the Crystal Braves.

She blinked into the dappled sunshine, remembering she was technically on the job, and shook her head to clear it, ears bouncing. “Where to now?” she asked Alphinaud.

He ushered her towards Gridania with diplomatic concessions that they’d take up enough of Riol and Alianne’s time, and that the testimonies that Alisaie and G’raha had gathered were waiting for them. This time, she relented in the name of promptness and traveled to the woodland city on the currents of aether.

And it was just as well, because she would have been disappointed to dismount at the gate to the city only to have to recall her mount to ride to Little Solace. But she arrived in the East Shroud and paid her toll to the aetheryte tender, and walked the relatively short distance between the Hawthorne Hut and the home of the Sylphs.

Even Frixio acknowledged that they had just seen each other at the Alliance meeting, but Etien wasn’t completely humorless about the to-do list she’d been tackling since then, offering the customary dance of greeting with a little smile on her lips. Hells, she was almost disappointed Frixio said no.

But there were bigger fish to fry, like the abducted Sylphs to worry about, and—her ears swiveled backwards before anyone’s attention (other than G’raha’s, she figured) had been drawn to the rapid footsteps behind her.

Well, she supposed they had the Sharlayan envoy to worry about, too, now. As she watched Alphinaud and Alisaie converse about the envoy’s identity, her lips parted in surprise. Not just any representative of Sharlayan, then. Their father.

She swallowed, already imagining the worst possibilities that an unexpected visit could portend. Well, in some ways, this wasn’t unexpected, was it? And yet, her chest was getting tight with the dread.

She took a deep breath. This wasn’t even herfather, so she had no reason to be so negative and scared. It was going to be fine.

And so they all set off. As Etien thumbed out the right number of gil to the tenders, she sighed. It certainly would have cost lessfor her to ride from Gridania when she’d left, if she’d known she was going to be coming right back, with a shorter time limit this go around. Still, as she arrived at Nophica’s Altar and entered the Lotus Stand, admiring its beauty once again, she found it a little difficult to be upset about the monetary cost.

Not when she and the others were commended for their swift attendance, and certainly not when she had a bad feeling about this, this little meeting that still loomed in front of them. She’d have paid a much steeper price to have this feeling go away. It only grew as his boots sounded on the dirt path leading to where they all stood waiting.

She smiled as Fourchenault said that the twins’ mother would be pleased to hear of their condition and was well herself, glad that Alisaie and Alphinaud didn’t have one morething to worry about.

But it was after the pleasantries—including gratitude exchanged for all that Louisoix had done for Eorzea and received in hospitality from Eorzea—that the foul mood that Etien had already sensed came to the forefront, casting its shadow over the conversation.

As the twins made their arguments, Etien tried to remind Fourchenault of the axiom she was sure he’d heard, and that she’d had to fall back on before, but never to a Leveilleur: “To ignore the plight of those one might conceivably save is not wisdom—it is indolence.”

The way he turned it onto Alphinaud and Alisaie felt like a slap, and she hissed, ready to argue.

The confidence with which he disowned them after silenced her immediately. The breaking of their voices as Alisaie moved to follow her progenitor, and Alphinaud told her to give it up, those set Etien’s eyes to welling.

They were so resigned… Had she looked so incredibly smalland alone when she’d set off on that forest path, effectively made orphan by breaking from her family, the way they had just been severed from theirs?

She answered her linkpearl, sighing her way through the conversation with Krile so she didn’t start crying for her surrogate siblings.

As they left the Lotus Stand, she took Alisaie’s free hand, the one that wasn’t folded into Alphinaud’s. “Well… you could always be wards of House Fortemps again. Or take up temporary residence with me, as I imagine Toto will be filling out the paperwork to have you as Aldynns the second she hears this wretched news.”

Alisaie squeezed Etien’s hand, and Alphinaud just looked back at her mournfully.

***

Etien had never been close with Arenvald—it was like that with many of the bearers of the Echo, she’d noticed; Etien could be friendly with them and sympathize with the struggle they shared, but something she couldn’t name stopped her from ever really opening up to them. She had never been close with Arenvald, but she could see just how hard the news of his permanent injury was hitting Alphinaud.

How many more things was he going to lose in this single swoop?

Her heart went out to him, but some vein of bitterness in her started to bleed when Alphinaud lamented that now he knew how heavy the burdens of other people’s dream were.

Nowhe knew.

And he wondered if he’d made the right choice. The slow bleed was a trickle now. Yes, well, it had been a choice for him, hadn’t it?He’d chosen to leave the rest of the Sharlayans and come to Eorzea, to squabble with Alisaie about what their grandfather had wanted and intended.

He’d chosen to… she’d chosen to leave home, too. But he didn’t have the weight of the very star’s conscription on his back with all those dreams.

Hydaelyn had roped her like a lost calf, then Lyse and Papalymo had slipped the hobble on.

The oxbow pinched and the yoke was heavy, but someone had to help Alphinaud carry the dreams he’d been entrusted. They’d come this far together, and he’d said to the Chais, they prevailed together or not at all.

And so they would do on the battlefield. She took his hand for help up onto the airship headed for Carteneau, and off they went.

***

He knew it was dangerous, when the fray pressed in around him on all sides, but Aymeric scanned the battlefield, his gaze settling on Lunar Ifrit, bold as brass and starkly purple where he wasn’t dark as the sky above them.

And zipping around the primal’s feet were streaks of blue and bronze, and dark, night-sky blue and silver.

He could almost hear them, so familiar was he with the way they fought, the sounds they would have made. Etien coming down onto her feet from a perfectly-aimed shot with a low grunt, a growl as Estinien drove his lance forward.

Aymeric couldn’t go to them, not when he was leading this squadron. But, he could do this.

“I need a contingent to break away and support the trio fighting Ifrit. Keep their Academician on his feet so he can take care of the others.”

An Adder and two Temple Knights ran from the Telotek they had been fighting, and Aymeric tried to watch out of the corner of his eye as they approached Ifrit.

Satisfied with their progress across the field, he focused once more on giving his all to subdue the Gnath before him so a porxie could set the poor thing right again.Maybe the Scions wouldn’t let Etien be selfish, but they would never be able to stop him from acting in her best interest.

And he watched her even as Estinien left her side, joining the Scions. Her face was tipped up to the sky as the purple-robed Ascian talked to her.

Whatever he said, it made her eyes narrow, her lips pursing before she bared her teeth. By the time she’d gotten control of her expression again, the Ascian was gone.

Etien looked out over the battlefield, her eyes drawn to a Durendaire shield, drawn to Ala Mhigan soldiers running across the dirt with urgency, but running to instead of from.

And then, she saw Alphinaud, struggling in his work on one of the fallen. When all he got was a death rattle of “Glory be to Garlemald,” he gave up, pounding the earth. So they regrouped with Alisaie, and approached the others.

Aymeric was standing with Hien when the metaphorical dust settled, which surprised Etien little, considering their positions as the heads of the most recent additions to the Alliance (save Ala Mhigo and now the other Allied populations of Eorzea), but it did still warm her heart to see the both of them doing all right after so hard a struggle.

And it had been. It was an overall success, yes, but plenty had been lost in the process. Prefaced by a sigh, she encouraged and agreed with Alisaie and Alphinaud, “one battle at a time, we’ll get there.”

She rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache brewing and hoping it wasn’t Echo-related. But she dropped her hand as the sky cleared, giving them all clear view of the moon.

It was a lot like hope, wasn’t it? Sometimes it wasn’t evident—in the sky or in the hearts of the people—but it hadn’t gone away. A new phase would come and it would be seen again.

Still, seeing the signal they’d come to recognize, both Aymeric and Estinien came to Etien’s side, ready to help her however she needed to get her home in one piece. Well, “home” was to the Rising Stones; it had been made clear by the way the Scions were talking that they were going to be reconvening there, and all of them had better be there.

Estinien grumbled, but joined everyone on the Ishgardian airship, sticking close to Etien and Aymeric at the side of the ship, massaging Etien’s hand to alleviate her headache, and her wrist to soothe any nausea the flying might cause when she was already in some pain.

She leaned against the wall as the Scions talked about what came next and what they wished they could have done, most of her pain relieved now, but still so tired.

She regretted now saying that the road went ever onward, all that time ago. Had she known she was damning herself, she would have kept her mouth shut.

As the Scions dispersed, Estinien came to her side again.

“A place to settle down. Here? Hmph.” He crossed his arms, leaning next to Etien against the cool stone. “What does he think he’s talking about?”

She shrugged, smiling but looking a little helpless for an answer.

“We have ourselves quite the man.” He shook his head.

At this, Etien vigorously nodded.

“Come on, then,” he reached out to take her hand. “We had best get home to him before he starts worrying.”

As they clasped hands, her bare fingers (fingerless gloves after all) curling onto the metal of Estinien’s gauntlets, she sighed again.

“Surely it cannot be so bad to hold my hand,” he remarked over his shoulder as they walked through the Seventh Heaven.

“No. It isn’t. That one was relieved, actually.”

“Relieved?”

“I’ll be happy to have you home, Estinien.”

“I imagine Aymeric will be, too.” He tried to hide it, with snark, with his hair, but he did smile.

Etien trotted after him, telling tales of the critters here catching her off-guard, but she was trying to hide her excitement in bubbly stories.

The road may still be going on, but she was going to take this detour. She was going back home.

[villainousshakespeare]

A Forest Interlude Chapter 26   An Audience with the King

Summary: Eleonore (OFC) discovers a wounded man in the woods near her home and seeks to heal him. Little does she know that it is none other than the heir to the throne, Prince Hal of England.

Chapter: 26 of 27

Rated E

Warnings: smut, sex fluff, angst, oral sex, fingering, hand jobs

(spoiler - don’t worry, it will all work out okay in the end)

In this chapter: Henry give his verdict on their marriage

Read the entire story on AO3

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It was something of an understatement to say that Hal was not having the best day. Between his embarrassing scene at the palace and his confrontation with his former companions, he was having to take a good, hard look at his behavior, and he was not enjoying what he saw. His youthful indiscretions were fine when it had only been his safety and good name that were at risk; he could fend off any affronts on either flank, he knew. But today those indiscretions had put Nell and their unborn child in harms way, and that he could not abide.

Hal had loved others in his life of course. He still remembered the devastation he felt when his mother had passed away, for instance. He felt a filial affection for Jon and, to a lesser extent, his other siblings. In his own way, yes, Hal loved his father. It was sometimes a bitter, self-mocking love, but it was love nonetheless. He even, deep down where he blushed to look, love that old rascal Falstaff.

None of that had prepared him for the sweeping emotion he felt for the beautiful woman now seated in the circle of his arms on the saddle before him. If any harm should have befallen her, he would have burnt the Boars Head to the ground with all of those thieving reprobates inside. Add to that the fact that she was giving him the greatest gift a man could hope for - a child, heir of his body and product of their love for each other - and that the japes of careless fools had also put the well being of the babe at risk. Hal felt his blood begin to boil again just at the thought.

It was not, all things considered, the state of mind best suited for a second audience with his royal sire. Hal tried to keep to a minimum his interactions with Henry. It seemed best for both their sakes since conversations usually left them both in states of heightened agitation. Two in one day was a disaster waiting to happen. At best Hal knew he could expect a dressing down over his actions earlier that day, at worst... well, just let Henry try to take Nell away from him! He would learn that Hal was not a tame cat to be ordered about at will, but a Lion in his own right ready fight to defend his own.

In this mood he rode into his father's courtyard, helped his obviously anxious wife to dismount, and handed his reins to an expectant groom. Nell looked up at him with eyes clouded with anxiety and he smiled at her, hoping to shield his own worry from her.

"All will be well my love, I give my word," he told her softly, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Tis not the way I hoped the time would come when you and I would once more meet the king," she sighed, giving him a shaky smile.

"Why no? How could we e'er improve on this?" he laughed, brushing her hair back from her face.

"For one, I might perhaps have worn a dress," she groaned.

"You look divine, my goddess, as you always do. Let any man say otherwise to me, and I will teach him better with my sword."

"Aye, that will ease our entrance to the court," she said with an eye roll. "Well, best to face the music and have done. Shall we proceed then to the lion's den?"

"Your bravery doth quite put me to shame. Onward, dear wife, to victory obtained."

Hand in hand, with a silent Renaldo shadowing their heels, they made their way down the twisted halls until they reached the entry to Henry's audience chamber. With a curt nod of his head, Hal signaled to the attendant to announce them. He would not repeat his faux pas of that morning and barge in unannounced. Better to pick his battles.

"His Royal Highness, Henry, Prince of Wales," the man intoned, "And Princess Eleanor to see you, Sire."

Well, Nell had been given her proper title. He supposed that was something. Wrapping his arm around her protectively, Hal sauntered into the room. A quick glance around showed it to be surprisingly empty of functionaries. Henry would of course have had advanced word of their arrival, the court was full of spies. Apparently it was a private audience with his wayward son that he desired.

"My lord and father, health be with you sir," he said by way of greeting, dipping his head in salute.

Nell stayed silent but dipped an elegant curtsy, prying herself free from his arm to do so. Henry slouched on his throne, eyes hooded as he looked over the pair. Renaldo, ever the vigilant servant, quickly dropped to his knee and then, at a wave from the king, took up his place beside and slightly behind the throne. As the silence stretched on, Hal let a small, ironic smile play about his lips, the one he knew Henry hated. His father sought to play power games, fine. He would wait the old bastard out.

"I am most sorry for the trouble, sire," Nell blurted out, stepping slightly forward. "I promise that I had it well in hand, but was yet grateful that you gave Hal help."

One of the king's eyebrows raised itself at her nervous outburst, and Hal closed his eyes briefly, unable to blame her. She did not have his years of sparring with the cold king to draw on. At last his father lifted his head and met Hal's eye.

“I see you managed to retrieve the girl,” Henry groused. “I can’t say that is an unmixed delight.”

"I am as always left quite humbled sir, by your enthusiasm for my joy."

"Presumptuous cub, who gave you leave to speak?" the king snapped as Nell elbowed Hal in the ribs. "Well now you know us guiltless in the crime, who was it then that took the girl from you? Or did she come at last into her wits and seek to fly from you all on her own? Tell me, Renaldo, where you found her out?"

"A drinking house in Eastcheap, good my lord," the guard said, with a quick glance towards Nell and Hal. "It seems the patrons of the public house did seek to make acquaintance of her grace."

"I do suppose it serves no good to ask if this be the same house that often times her loving husband hath been known to haunt?"

"It is the one, my king, I must confess. And that same rascal Falstaff, as he's called, did look to be the author of the prank."

"For which offense, too great for me to bear, I have henceforth exiled him from my life. If he or any of his merry band do seek me out then all that they will find shall be my door shut firmly in their face."

"He told the knight as much before we left," Renaldo confirmed when the king looked over at him, "in terms so stark they could not be misheard."

Henry rose from his throne and crossed to the window, staring out of it for some time. Once again time seemed to stretch on in silence. Hal could tell Nell was getting antsy again, and gave her hand a squeeze. She darted her eyes up to him and he shook his head slightly. He could understand her anxiety, he was feeling it himself. Unfortunately, any attempt to rush the king would only end in pushing him into anger. Finally Henry turned and walked back over, stopping to look penetratingly at Nell.

"For years God knows how I have strove to find a way to free him from the fat knight's sway. It seems instead of guards and royal writs I should have sent a pair of pretty eyes. If it is true that he has turned away from all these gross and undesirable ways, not just myself but all of this our realm would seem to be indebted now to you."

"I did no more than love him, majesty," Nell replied simply, blush staining her cheek.

"And if we are to talk of gratitude," Henry went on, ignoring her statement completely, "it seems mine must not end with this today. I hear from doctor Hobbs that it was you who cared for me when I was last beset."

Ah, there it was! The reason that there were no others in the room. He would not want any more people knowing of his seizures than absolutely necessary.

"I am right glad that I could be of help," Nell said. "Though Dr. Hobbs was not too long absent. I chanced to have seen something similar when I was learning to care for the ill."

"Your mother also, if I be correct, knew much of lore pertaining to the sick."

"She did my lord, and still knows more today."

"She and my younger son do think me blind, that I see not their shameful goings on. But I suppose at least in that one case I need not fear a wedding in the end. Which brings us back to you and the crown prince."

Hal, uncharacteristically quiet up until now, snapped to attention. His father met his eye and held it with an open appraisal. What he was looking for Hal was uncertain, but he seemed to find it at last, as he gave a nod of his head.

"I do not like the way you two were wed, in clandestine a manner gainst my will. I sometimes think your only goal in life is but to mock my wishes and my name."

"Oh do not think it father, tis not so. I seek to bring no shame upon our house, or any other way disgrace our name. I am a man full grown, my will's my own. But tell me, would you wish it otherwise than that the future king of this our realm, refuse to dance to any other's tune?"

"There maybe something there in what you say. When it doth comes to choosing your revolts, I must admit I greatly do prefer you to defy me for noble lass who bringeth out your chivalry and grace than for a brace of mottle pated fools who seek only to lead you into sin."

"Oh fear not sir, for this my lady wife doth lead me into heady sin enough!" Hal could not resist saying.

"Must you vex me thus you willful boy?" Henry growled, eyes flashing. "Tis pain enough to speak what I must say without you making matters harder still."

"And what, good father, is it you would say?"

"That since you have been married in the church, and Lady Eleonor is of fit rank, kin to the royal families of name, and seeing as she has in some small ways been of good use already to our throne..."

"Come, out with it sir! Say what you would say!"

"Keep silent, Hal, and let your father speak!" Nell snapped at him, with a glare to equal Henry's.

"I only hope that there will come a day when some of her wit doth rub off on you. But being as it may, know you my son, that I will to your marriage make no cross."

"Your Majesty, you have my deepest thanks!" Nell said, sinking once more into a curtsy and shooting Hal a speaking look.

"And mine, as well, my father, add to that," he hastened to say, the specter of fear at last lifting from them. "But tell me father, ere your fit did come, do you remember aught of what we spoke?"

"But little Harry, if the truth be told," Henry admitted, sitting back in his throne. "And that I do is shrouded in a haze."

"Then let me tell you once again, good sir. There is another reason to rejoice. For my beloved, clever little wife is even now expectant with our heir. And so you see, the marriage hath been blessed, and God as well as you do smile on it."

"I will not count the days upon my hands that you two have been married under God and in union have conceived this child," Henry remarked dryly. "I only will say that it pleases me."

"It pleases me as well, I must confess," Hal said with a cocky grin, embracing Nell and making her squeal. "And now, if you'll excuse us, majesty, it has been quite the day for my dear bride. If we may have your leave sir to depart, I wish to take her home and tend to her."

Only on the last words did he let his eyes go hot as he looked at Nell.

"Well, do so then. And god go with your both. But one last thing that I would ask of you. The lady is a princess now by right. See to it, would, you, she be properly dressed. The bills for this you may all send to me."

"Why father, there is naught would please me more!" Hal grinned, bowing his exit.

When the reached the courtyard, he tossed her up onto his horse.

"Well, lovely wife, is seems the day is one! How doth it feel to be a true princess?"

"A bit unreal, if I am speaking true. But Hal, how I do wish I'd worn a dress!"

"Think not of that, for I shall see to all," he told her, a glint in his eye. "And when I have a wardrobe made for you appropriate for my own sweet princess, you will not need to fear his grace's ire, for none but me will ever see it worn!"

Nell blushed and he grinned wider, imagining just what he would have made for her at his father's expense.

[lunaschild2016]

Belief - Part 1 (Edit)

Rating: M

Devi is Dauntless. Through blood sweat and tears she made a place for herself three years ago when she left her life in Amity behind. Not once in that three years has Eric Coulter even deigned to look her way. Not until that night. Now she has nothing but his attention. Eric/OC AU [Smut, Language, Romance]

 Title and story inspired by   Belief   by Gavin DeGraw

Character Inspiration:

Devi Nunez- Diane Guerrero

Eric Coulter- Jai Courtney

Elijah - Alexander Skarsgård

                                                      ~~Belief~~

Tonight you arrested my mind

When you came to my defense

With a knife

In the shape of your mouth

In the form of your body

With the wrath of a god

Oh, you stood by me

Belief

Builds from scratch

Doesn't have to relax

It doesn't need space

Long live the queen

And I'll be the king

In the collar of grace

Tonight, you arrested my mind

When you came to my defense

With a knife

In the shape of your mouth

In the form of your body

With the wrath of a god

Oh, you stood by me

Belief

[Belief, Gavin DeGraw]

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

 Part 1

 A dare is a fucking dare, and Dauntless don’t give up. I’m dauntless now and have been for the last three years.

I’m doing okay here. I’ve made a place for myself and some friends. Although it was hard leaving everyone I knew behind in Amity, I did it. Even when I knew that my grandparents and brother would wash their hands of me when I left. It wasn’t anything personal but they’re just staunch advocates for peace.

Okay, so maybe for them it was a little personal. They felt like I rejected them, who they are, and everything they stand for. It hurt them badly.

I’ve always held a secret hope they would come to see that I left because my staying would be like a slap in the face to them every day. Small wounds that would build up over time until finally I would knick a vein and cause whatever love we had to just bleed out for good.

See, I can’t even make an analogy about how much I would end up hurting my family without it turning into something out of a war story or horror film.

The thing is I don't really have a big story or wrong from my life in Amity. Not really. It was kind of perfect and I followed along every day with a smile on my face. Granted, my family drowned ourselves in peace serum laced foods and drinks so that helped keep the smile in place. I arrived in Dauntless with the carb-laden proof on my hips and thighs and that took some serious work to fix my first few months here.

I still can’t quite kick the carb habit, so there’s more cushion than there should be probably.

Back in Amity I sang happily, played instruments, braided hair, and took part in the free love once I hit puberty and was flooded with all those lovely hormones.

But my favorite part of life back there was working with the animals. Horses mainly. When we had the rare chance to tame one, gentle we call it though others might have called it breaking them in, I was one of the first they called. I've always had a way about me. I can be gentle when called for but my stubbornness and determination always saw me winning in the end.

Looking back I know that should have been my first clue.

That life I led before, it all changed the day I took the aptitude test. I went in expecting nothing but a life in Amity. It was all planned out for me. That test changed everything in the blink of an eye.

Dauntless.

That was what the Abnegation woman told me, looking at me with understanding soulful eyes as she did so. There was no hiding my shock or stopping the sobs that wracked my body. The woman held me in her arms and told me that it would be okay. I didn’t know how it could be okay when I was feeling, at that moment, that my life was a lie. That  I  was a lie.

Just before I walked out of the door she reached out for my arm and held me back. Her eyes were full of determination and something else that reached deep into me. “You can choose Amity tomorrow, but if you do, you will never truly know who you are or who you could be.”

I went home with her words still ringing in my ears and a tangle of confusing feelings within my heart. I hadn’t been able to hide the pain on my face so my family saw it clearly. They knew as soon as they saw me what that meant. They didn’t ask what faction I got but they knew it wasn’t Amity and they made their position very clear. As gently as mi Abuela could, she let me know that if I left they would not see me again.

They would uphold faction before blood.

I was scared like I had never been before in my life, but I also felt strangely alive.

It was exactly like I felt in the paddock facing an animal that was easily eight inches taller than me and had at least a couple of hundred pounds on me if not more.  I’m a five-foot-four-inch Latina girl that has a few extra pounds in some areas, but I still look like the wind could blow me over. Imagine me standing face to face with beasts towering over me. It must have looked ridiculous.

Out of the paddock, I’m very self-aware, even a little self-conscious. But inside it that all melts away and there is no fear for me. 

When dealing with all the animals I understood that some of the things we had to do could and were considered cruel by others but they never bothered me. Even when some of those things involved the slaughtering of the livestock that is specifically raised for the purposes of feeding the factions. I always had the mindset that it had to be done but at least we could do it in the least stressful way as possible.

As I lay in bed that night after the test I went over things like that in my mind and it had been like unlocking some part of me that had always been held back until the revelation of the aptitude test. I knew then that the Abnegation woman from my test was right. I was given the truth and my path, and I knew I couldn't turn away from it.

I never backed down then and that’s something that hasn’t changed even now.

I have found myself here. It took a lot of work and some very unexpected struggles but I also like who I have become.

Generally, I love my life and who I am.  

Even during times like right now when I know that come the morning sober me is going to be hating the fuck out of drunk me. 

I glare over at my friend as she smirks back at me from across the bar table. I toss back the shot and beer chaser one after the other, then slam the glasses back onto the table.

“Fine! I will!” I snap at her, then shove my way through the bar and head to the door.

My three friends follow close behind me, alternating between disbelieving murmurs or begging me not to do it. I hear one pleading with me to back down for once and that only makes me even more determined to follow through with it.

But seriously, did she really think that was going to happen?

It's a serious character flaw, I know, my refusal to give in or up. Even when it results in situations like back in my initiation and the fights started. I refused to go down easy and more than half of them resulted in me being beaten up pretty badly. I still didn’t give up. And when my next fight came up, no matter how hurt I was, I stepped up and gave it my all.

That alone got me enough points to eke out the ranking I need to get my Physio Therapy and Medic Nurse positions and titles. Three years later and I've worked my way to the position of Head Nurse.  

Walking through the compound, drunk and on the highest heels I could manage to get, is proving a challenge. I wobble and curse as the stone floors throw up obstacles that make me look like I’m a sailor on the deck of a ship during a storm, swaying back and forth. It doesn’t help that even with the heels I am still a couple of inches shorter than most of the people around and have difficulties getting noticed that I’m trying to get through.

I finally manage to shove my way to my objective.

The Pit has different levels with various hangout spots throughout. Some are open-air, meaning they are shoved into some nook that’s carved out of the stone but otherwise have no real enclosures. Others are full-on bars with swinging doors and everything.

Where I need to be is an open-air hangout that is really popular with the high ranking people in Dauntless. It’s a prime location because it’s high enough up that the people there can see almost all places in the Pit. Leaders are known for hanging out there after hours to be able to keep an eye on things and while winding down.

I always thought that it made them seem like they were half part of the faction and half sitting on thrones, lording over everyone.

As I spot him that analogy seems to hit home. He sits at the table like a king on his throne and the people surrounding him sure seem intent on treating him like he’s one.

I can’t help but observe this with a sneer crossing my face as it sure doesn’t seem he’s much of a reluctant ‘king’ as he’s always claiming. He seems to be eating it up as they all gather to kiss his feet and lick his ass. That’s exactly the thought that got me into the position I am now. Drunkenly weaving my way towards his table.

Just a bit ago I loudly made that comment to my friends in the middle of an angry rant and my friend AJ immediately jumped on it, daring me to say those exact words to his face.

And dammit, I’m just mad and drunk enough that I’m going to do exactly that. He needs to know how fucked up what he did is and I am going to tell the legendary Four just what I think of him!

I make my way to his table but there’s a virtual wall of people around him. Some are standing but most are sitting in or on any available surface. Not one of them pays any attention to me as I give polite squeaked pleads to be let through.

One guy looks me dead in the eye, raises an eyebrow, and snorts at me dismissively.

If I wasn’t already pissed that sure did the damn trick. It just fuels it even more, driving any sense of propriety or rational thought from my mind.

Usually, I’m a pretty even-tempered girl unless it comes to something I'm extremely passionate about. But when I came to Dauntless I discovered that once my temper is lit it makes me into a volcano. A tiny one, no doubt, but don’t let my size fool you. I can do some damage now when I need to.

Lucky for the douchebag that fanned the flames my fuse was already lit by someone else and come hell or high water he's going to know it. I furiously look around and my eyes narrow at the nearest table as an idea pops into my head.

With a determined smile, I stomp my way over to the table and start to climb up it. I completely disregard the fact that this table is currently occupied. There was an empty space for me to use for the climb and that was invitation enough for me.

Glasses and bottles scatter and fall, breaking as they go tumbling while I scramble up onto the table and then wobble as I move from my kneeled position to try and stand. The table is solid stone and has no give but my slim stilettos don’t seem to like this new development.

I look down at the shoes I fell in love with and just had to have, prepared to give them a glare and order them to behave. Instead, I get distracted by the realization that they really do make my legs look killer. Vera gushingly informed me when I first showed up in them earlier tonight and I have to agree.

The shouting from around me, as the occupants of the table protest the loss of their drinks, brings me around and I shake my head and the drunken smirk from my face.

“Focus, Devi!” I loudly scold myself and square my shoulders as I stand up, lifting my chin as my eyes zero in on my target.

This is when I notice that many eyes are on me and there are even some people catcalling or whistling while chanting ‘dance, dance '. I would tell those idiots off normally but I see this has gotten the person's attention I wanted all along.

“Hey, Four!” I bellow out loudly, trying to really project my voice. I figure just telling Four what I think isn’t enough anymore. The whole damn faction should know.

The table under me shakes with the force of whoever just slammed their fist down as they yelled. “Fucking figures,” with something that sounds like a groan and growl all in one. But I’m too focused to see who that is or what he means.

Four is looking right at me, startled enough that he isn’t paying attention to the blurry yet vaguely familiar girl beside him who’s trying to get his attention and furiously whispering in his ear.

“I have something to say to you,” I yell with a hand on my hip and my eyes narrowed in anger.

“Devi?” He calls out and that stupid concerned looks he gets crosses his face. “Are you drunk right now?”

“No! And fuck you with your…” I gesture wildly at him, meaning to indicate his face and failing. So I try again using my face while searching for the words to describe what I mean but they're all coming up Spanish in my mind. When the English words finally come to me, I gasp out and continue on triumphantly. “Your stupid puckered forehead and puppy dog eyes, trying to look all concerned and nice. I’ve got news for you. Eres un cabròn. You aren’t as nice as you play at being or what everyone thinks and I’m sick of it!”

“Well, this just got interesting,” Drifts up to me from somewhere below me while around me I can hear mixed reactions from the audience.

There are a good many girls that are scowling at me, shouting out insults. Other people are simply chuckling or making various other sounds of amusement and cheers.

Four briefly looks at the blurry and out of focus girl (those drinks are starting to really hit me hard) who’s still trying to get his attention and seems to make some kind of reassuring gesture to her while he stands and locks eyes with me. His eyes are narrowed in that same concerned look while he slowly starts to raise his hands while approaching me.

I guess it's supposed to look like he’s trying to reassure me but honestly, to me, it just looks like he’s surrendering.

“If this is about earlier today…”

Four speaking and the raised hands just irritate me and I scowl while hissing to myself. “Dauntless don’t give up.”

Then I stomp my foot on the table in determination, ready to repeat that out loud, making something shatter beneath the point of my heel. Someone jumps back from the table cursing but again I press on.

“Remember that? A Dauntless doesn’t give up. We both learned the same thing but maybe I remember it better than you do. Maybe it was too easy for you, Mr. Dauntless Prodigy,” I snort the unofficial nickname for him. “Maybe if you had learned the hard way as I had to it would have stuck a little bit better for you.” I pop my hip out to the side and put my hand on it while staring him down.

“Do you even  try  …” I wave my hand out, almost losing my balance in the process but just barely manage to stay standing “...to actually help them? The initiates you insist on continuing to train yourself? Did you actually try and help that girl? Did you try and tell her that the pain would pass and she would get stronger for it if she could just hang on? No! What did you say to her while she was laying in that bed ready to give up and walk away?” I’m furious now, my blood boiling at the memory. “All you said to her was that these were the new rules and there was nothing that could be done. All you did was imply...  hey...I know you just got the shit kicked out of you but that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t make the rules. I just have to go by them.  Not one word from you that she could become more, that she could become Dauntless. It’s bullshit!” I yell once again, but this time even more fiercely.

The force my yelling and using my body to gesture in my anger unbalances my already precarious position and I lurch forward, arms flailing wildly as I pitch forward. I close my eyes, certain my end is coming and wonder what they’re going to say at my memorial at the chasm.

'Devi, she went how all Dauntless should. Drunk, pissed and stupid.’

“Alright. That’s enough for you tonight.” A voice drawls surprisingly close to me. I realize that the hard feeling against my body is actually that of someone else's against mine, not the ground as I expected. Someone that has me held tightly in his arms and even tighter against his body.

I decide it’s safe to open my eyes again to see who my savior from a very humiliating death is, and get an eye full of black clothes until they travel up to see a jawline made of stone and even harder blue eyes glaring down at me.

“Leave her alone, Eric. She’s drunk and doesn’t know what she’s doing. I’ll get her home.” Four says, getting my attention and I look to see he’s standing in front of me after having barely had to push his way through the crowd.

They all just fucking parted for him like Moses and the Red Sea.

“Como si fuera a ir a cualquier parte contigo. Metelo en el culo Mejor aún, ¡espero que un pollo te pique la polla!” I spit out furiously while glaring at Four.

“Sounds like she doesn’t want anything to do with you at the moment,” Eric says with a chuckle after I threw out a few more choice words in Spanish. More insults that were all livestock oriented and made not a damn bit of sense outside of Amity.

“I don’t!” I nod firmly with a look of smug defiance.

“Devi, you’re drunk and upset about the girl leaving. But you  don’t  need to be going off alone with  him .”

The already taut muscles of Eric’s arms go even tighter as he tenses. It almost feels like there’s a slight tremor in his muscles and apprehension radiates up and down my spine, tingling along the way. I might not know a lot about Eric, despite being in the same faction for over three years and having shared the same initiation. But there is one thing I know for sure and that is Eric’s temper makes mine look like a missile strike against his nuclear explosion.

Still, this isn’t Eric’s fight and I refuse to let him take it on and fight it for me. I started this and I intend to finish it.

“Fuck you, Four!” I snarl out, my face contorting in my anger.

He was already stepping forward, arms out to take me from Eric. I swipe at his arms violently but then immediately switch to gripping Eric’s tightly, nails digging in, when I felt him moving me. There was a moment I thought he was going to hand me over and I certainly didn’t want that to happen, but it turned out he was moving me away from Four.

“You don’t get to tell me what I should do and that girl has a fucking name by the way. It’s Rain, and now she’ll never have the family she left everyone behind for because you didn’t even try to talk her out of walking away. Why didn’t you try!" I yell, my voice breaking a little. "You could’ve told her that it gets better and the pain doesn’t last. You always want to look down your nose at Eric but at least he's always been honest with her and all the rest of them. Yes, he was pushing them hard but at least when he was people like her had a chance. Then you went and complained to get your way. Everyone is always so ready to kiss your ass and lick your feet….” I pause and shake my head because that isn’t right, “I mean kiss your feet and lick your ass…” That sounds right but confusion makes it feel like it isn’t. “You know what I mean!” I huff finally. “Sometimes you have to break someone to make them stronger and she needed to know that. She needed her trainer to tell her she could do it.”

I can tell I’ve royally pissed Four off but I don’t care. It’s all true. And it also hurt me too much to watch that girl throw her life away by giving up. That made me need to hurt someone in return.

“Enough, Devi. You’ve had your say. Now go sleep it off but we will be talking about this privately.” Four says lowly before turning and walking away, vanishing into the crowd that rushes in and blurs around him.

Things had already started to go on the blurring, spinning side, but it feels like hits me even harder all of the sudden. I guess the rush of adrenaline that was pushing me through my drunken state has finally started to fade enough that all that liquor I downed in a short amount of time has decided it’s time to really have fun with me. You would think it's already had its fill by me showing my ass in the Pit but obviously, there is more in store for me. It’s leaving me spinning and groaning as I let my head briefly rest against the solid surface of Eric’s chest.

“I don’t feel so good,” I mutter into his chest after some minutes pass and the spinning hasn’t gotten any better.

I don’t dare to open my eyes. At first, it feels like the air is rushing past my body. Making me think I really am spinning. When I look up all I can see at first is Eric staring straight ahead with his jaw tense but his mouth moving slightly. Like he’s muttering under his breath. I look away from him to see that sensation of air rushing along my body is because we're in motion. Eric still has me locked against his body and is walking at a steady pace but doesn't seem to be rushing. We are nowhere near the pit, telling me he’s already been walking for a bit and I didn’t even realize it.

I try to determine where we are but everything looks like blurred streaks making my head hurt and stomach flip. I groan and slam my eyes shut again.

“I swear if you throw up on me I’ll assign you maid duties in my apartment for a fucking month.”

“I won’t. I just spin.” I reply with a pained sigh before I dare to open my eyes again. Trying to look around me. The doors and hallways are still all speeding by and nothing looks familiar. “Are you taking me home with you, Eric?”

The words come out and I pause, tilting my head because it sounds off to me. Almost as if there was excitement in my tone.

Eric chuckles but it’s so deep and husky that the only reason I realize it is a chuckle is that his body and chest vibrates with it.

He comes to a stop and looks down at me when I tilted my head back to look up at him. His eyes look darker in the light of the residential hallways and the shadows from them make his cheeks morph so that his natural predatory expression just seems even more feral. His eyes flick away from me and he takes a breath then shifts so he has all my weight on one arm while also using his leg to balance me. He leans towards me until I can almost feel the heat of his breath on me.

“Not tonight, little one,” He pauses and lifts his free arm to pound on a door then wraps that arm securely around me again.

Silence fills the heartbeats as I look between him and the door, wondering what the hell’s going on. When there is rustling coming from the other side, Eric gets my attention again. This time it isn’t just the heat of his breath, but the brush of his lips against my ear as he speaks.

“You might not have ever meant to get my attention, Devi,” Locks are being thrown on the other side of the door when I swear I feel the nip of his teeth on the tip of my ear, “But you certainly have it, little one. You better be ready for me now.”

Is that a threat? A promise? Why does it feel like both?

The door opens suddenly and I see Tori standing there, completely disheveled and looking extremely put out to be disturbed. She's not even a bit less intimidating by her state of dress at all.

That’s the thing I most admire about the older woman. I’m sure that most people would be uneasy having to approach her when she is looking like this. While if I tried to pull this same look off it would make me look like a petulant child. She’s certainly always been respected by those that know her but especially now that she became one of our leaders after all the bullshit that went on with Erudite with the assistance of the old Dauntless leader regime.

I grin drunkenly at her which causes her to sniff even as her expression softened slightly for me. Then her eyes shifted over and hardened again when she eyes Eric. Or rather me in Eric’s arms.

“Little late for a tattoo don’t you think, guys?” She deadpans while crossing her arms over her chest.

I start to chuckle, while Eric starts to move without even replying. He doesn’t even ask before he moves forward and through the door, with Tori scowling in his direction but not stopping him either.

His steps take him quickly to the couch where he leans down from the waist and deposits me onto the cushions while speaking over his shoulder to Tori. “Take care of that for me, will ya? I’ll be back to retrieve her in the morning.” He straightens and turns his back to me. Completely ignoring the fact that he’s disregarding me while doing so, and continues to speak to her. “I expect her to still be here.”

The fact that he hasn’t once looked at me again from the time Tori opened the door, along with the fact that he’s treating me like some package he has any control over, just pisses me off. So obviously I have to say and do something about this.

I pop up to get off that couch with every intention of telling him I sleep where I want. When I want. And with who I want….

Only the room starts spinning. I flop back against the couch like a fish out of the water while moaning loudly and putting a hand to my head.

“Wait! Why am I the one being stuck with the extremely drunk girl? One that looks like she’s minutes away from being sick all over my carpet? Need I tell you how hard that shit is to clean from white carpet?”

I crack my eyes open to try and get out something in protest but only let out another moan. I see Eric casually shrugging then turning back to me, reaching down like he’s going to scoop me back up but he does it very slowly and with a smirk on his lips. “Okay. I can take her back to my place like she was asking but I won’t be responsible for what happens there. I just thought I would give that thing that you're always on me about a try. You know, to be less of a selfish dick.”

“Well fuck,” Tori sighs and pushes him away from me just as his hands brush against me. “Fine. But you owe me.”

He grins at her, flashing teeth and looking younger somehow. It occurs to me that I’ve never seen Eric Coulter smile before. At least not like that. I watch all of that as he walks towards the door with some kind of rekindling of a long-dormant, repressed really, desire inside of me as I watch him go. 

Maybe it's my stomach rebelling and Tori really should be worried?

Before he gets to the door he looks at me, really looks at me, for the first time since we entered the apartment and winks.

Wait...Eric just….winked at me?

It takes entirely too long for me to process any of that and by that time Tori is walking towards me from somewhere. In her hands, she has a glass of water and a bottle of pills while a shirt is draped over her arm.

You wouldn’t think it with how she greeted the two of us and the exchange just after, but Tori is the closest thing to real family I have here in Dauntless. She has been since shortly after I arrived. Sure, I have friends now, but none of them are as close to me as she is and none of them were there for me like she’s been.

In my initiation, I was a pariah.

My former faction alone was already a source of ridicule but I had other things going against me from the start. Most everyone just pretended I didn’t exist since it was easier to refuse to get close to someone that was never going to make it. Others seemed to take offense at me being in Dauntless at all. This was usually conveyed by their taunts and making fun of me in any way they could.

Once I was even attacked. I didn’t go down without giving them as good as I got. But I usually faced them, and anything during that time, alone.

One day I wandered into the parlor and after that, I practically lived there every day when I wasn’t involved in something for initiation. I never really let on to what was going on with me or how bad it got and Tori never pressed. Just being there helped and I think she knew that. I wouldn’t say I was working at the parlor, because that wasn’t technically allowed, but I was helping out. From designing things, once Tori and Bud found out I could draw, to helping stock or clean. I learned the ropes and was even thinking about taking up the tattoo gun when initiation ended.

I figured I would probably get a good enough rank for that at least.

When I ranked sixth Tori was the one that urged me to try for something better. She knew that one of my passions and eventual goals in Amity had been to be one of their healers. I had hoped to try and bring in more than what the faction normally allowed for treatments but that had been more of a long-term goal for me then. When I left Amity, I just accepted that wasn’t going to be in the cards for me but Tori made me rethink it and go for the position that was open in the clinic.

She believed in and supported me when I needed her and that the most.

“Devi, Devi, Devi.” She sighs out my name while shaking her head.

By this time I’ve already changed into the shirt, taken the pills and drank most of the water before I had to lay down when the spinning threatened me again.

She runs a hand over my hair softly and worry mars her brow. “What have you done?”

I smile faintly as I remember the night and my triumph. “I told Four off!”

Tori’s hand pauses in mid-stroke of my hair and her eyes widen. Then a smile curls her lips and she laughs softly. “Of course you did.”

“Eric caught me when I fell and then Four tried to tell me I shouldn’t go with him but I told him off again.”

���Did you now? Twice in a row. No wonder.” I frown in confusion but she’s just smirking at me. “I’m sure he doesn’t even realize what he's in for.”

I shrug still not understanding but not up to figuring it out. “I  have  to close my eyes now or I can’t promise I won’t make a Pollock painting of your carpet.”

“Eww.” Tori groans and gratefully grants my request.

I hear her shuffling away and the light that was on in the room clicks off, making the dark behind my eyelids even darker. I let out a blissful moan and reach up to put the heels of my palms over my eyes and gently put pressure on them. Hoping the spinning will stop soon.

It does eventually seem to slow down and I can feel that kind of unconsciousness that happens when I’ve overindulged. Some would call it a blackout but that’s not what happens for me this time. As the spinning slows images start to stream by, some I can’t make out at all and others I can make out but they make no sense whatsoever.

Like the feather duster and the extremely short, frilly black and white dress……..

[buoyantsaturn]

could this be love at first sight? (oh wait, I said that before) (1/1)

summary: Nico sighed, unable to believe what was actually about to come out of his mouth. “Will you come with me to a friend’s wedding?”

“Like...as your date?” 

word count: 6,881

read on ao3

Seriously, what were the chances that all of Nico’s friends would get married in the same year? Even his own sister - his younger sister! - was getting married, and Nico wasn’t even dating anybody! How was he supposed to survive so many weddings on his own?

He wasn’t - he needed someone to suffer with him.

Nico called Will.

“What are you doing on February fourteenth?” Nico asked rather than saying hello.

“Um. I don’t know?” Will answered. “I guess that depends on if I’m dating somebody by then. Why?”

Nico sighed, unable to believe what was actually about to come out of his mouth. “Will you come with me to a friend’s wedding?”

“Like...as your date?” 

“My plus-one. Platonically. I just… Does your family ever pester you about being single?” Nico asked, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “My friends do that to me all the time, and at a wedding, it’s just gonna get worse, so… Please?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Nico braced himself for a rejection. “Free food and an excuse to dress up? Sure.”

Nico breathed out a relieved breath. “Thanks, Will. I owe you one.”

“Just, uh, hang on--” he went quiet for a second, then continued with, “Keep March twenty-fifth open, okay? You can pay me back then.”

“Oh. Okay, sure.”

Nico wouldn’t admit to anyone the way his heart fluttered when he saw Will waiting for him outside the church that Percy and Annabeth were about to get married in. He’d never seen Will in a suit before, and the cool grey of the material complimented his tan skin and blue eyes perfectly. He smiled so brightly when he saw Nico approaching that Nico almost tripped over his own feet. 

“Hey there,” Will said, bringing a hand out from behind his back. He held out a white carnation and continued, “happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh.” Nico took the flower in a mixture of surprise and confusion. “That’s today, isn’t it? I completely forgot, I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t have plans with anybody else today.”

“And leave you without a date? Platonic date, I mean,” Will told him. He held out his arm to Nico. “I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day as a single man. Ready to go in?”

Nico hooked his arm through Will’s, and allowed the other to lead him through the doors. As soon as they were inside, Nico saw the room filled with white carnations. He elbowed Will in the side. “You totally just stole this from the decorations, didn’t you?”

Will grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nico laughed and pulled Will into one of the pews.

They sat down and tried to get comfortable in the hard wooden seats, though after a few moments, the atmosphere around them suddenly became much more uncomfortable. Grover slid into the pew in front of them, kneeling on the bench and whistling as he looked between them. “Wow, Nico, when I heard you were bringing a date I didn’t believe it was true! And Will Solace no less!”

“We’re here as friends, Grover,” Will said calmly, though Nico huffed, crossing his arms and slouching.

“Don’t you have best man duties to tend to?”

Grover jumped up. “You’re right! Things should be starting any time now!” He shot them each a grin before he got up and left.  

Once he was out of earshot, Will leaned close to Nico and said, “Hey, remember how I told you to keep March twenty-fifth open? It’s for my friend’s wedding.”

Nico snorted. “We’re just going to pop back and forth between weddings this year, aren’t we? Because I have at least two more, if you’d like to join me.”

“I’ll probably get invited to another sometime soon, too, knowing my friends,” Will told him. He held out a hand. “Wedding buddies?”

Nico grinned. “Wedding buddies,” he repeated, and shook Will’s hand. 

“You know what might be fun? We should start keeping a tally of how many people assume we’re dating - and next month, I say we play into it.”

“What, like, pretend we’re dating?” 

“More like, we don’t try to convince people otherwise. I just want to see how many people come up to us and assume we’re dating just because we’re here keeping each other company. And maybe we have a little fun and let them believe what they want.”

Nico stared up at Will - with so little distance between them, he could count every freckle on Will’s face, could see every shift in the blue in his eyes - and he thought, yeah, I could date you. When he spoke, his voice came out just above a whisper: “Alright, deal.”

Before Will could say anything else, the music started, and Thalia and Grover - as maid of honor and best man - started down the aisle, followed by Annabeth Chase.

The reception lasted late into the night, and thanks to Will’s presence, Nico didn’t have to deal with any pestering about when he would get into a relationship. Unfortunately, he did have to endure plenty of teasing about Will, regardless of how many times he insisted that they were nothing more than friends. They were still followed by a chorus of wolf-whistles when the two finally left at the end of the night.

Will lived closer to the reception hall than Nico, and offered Nico a place to crash for the night considering how late it was. Before they had even made it into Will’s apartment, they were practically dead on their feet, and Will barely had a chance to offer Nico a t-shirt to sleep in before they were crashing in Will’s bed.

The next morning was probably the first time in a year that Will had slept in, though even after he woke up, Nico was still fast asleep beside him. He took the opportunity to observe the other - they’d been friends since college, and had crashed in each other’s dorms more than enough times for Will to have seen Nico asleep, but he didn’t think they’d ever shared a bed before. Did sleeping on the same floor count?

All Will wanted to do was pull Nico close and fall back asleep with that beautiful boy in his arms, but instead he rolled out of bed and left the room to avoid the temptation. It wasn’t long after that, though, that Nico was joining him in the kitchen - wearing just his boxers and one of Will’s t-shirts, looking like a dream come true with his hair sticking up every which way. 

Will poured a cup of coffee for Nico - with plenty of sugar, just how he liked it - without being asked, and Nico grunted in thanks. He stood against the counter and let the coffee fumes wake him for a few moments before he took his first sip.

Will smiled at him, and Nico just glared back.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Will said brightly.

“Shut up, Solace.”

That only made Will smile brighter. 

What were the chances that one of Will’s friends from high school was getting married just a month after Nico’s cousin’s wedding? And what were the chances of Will being asked to accompany the love of his life to said wedding, only to have him return the favor a month later? Will knew that Nico didn’t return his feelings, and he’d accepted that, but to have so many chances to spend time with Nico in such a romantic environment? He had to make the most of this. 

And if that meant pretending to date one of his best friends, that’s what he would do.

Almost immediately after Will and Nico stepped into the banquet hall that would host Travis Stoll and Katie Gardner’s wedding - entering arm and arm, just as they had at Jason and Piper’s ceremony - they were approached by Travis’s brother Connor, who congratulated Will on finally getting himself a boyfriend. Will could feel Nico tense as his side, but Will played it off cooly by replying, “Thanks, and you too! I bet Mitchell’s been going crazy over all the wedding stuff recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed to you right after the ceremony today.”

Connor got a look of panic in his eyes at Will’s words. “Oh, god, don’t say that too loud - he might hear you. I love him, but don’t give him any ideas so soon, you know? I mean, we haven’t even been together for a year! What about you two? When did you finally get together?”

Will glanced down at Nico with a hum, as Nico stared back up at him with wide eyes, probably thinking something along the lines of you had better not be expecting me to answer. “It’s hard to say, really,” Will said after a short pause. “We just sort of...stopped being friends all of a sudden and became something more.”

“It’s only been a few months,” Nico tacked on, “officially, at least.”

Connor frowned. “Didn’t the RSVPs get sent out, like, six months ago? Awfully presumptuous of you to check plus one without knowing you’d have someone to bring, Will.”

“What, you’ve never brought a friend to a wedding?”

They had many more similar conversations throughout the evening, and Nico was starting to get better at crafting lies that fit the canon of his and Will’s fake relationship. It was easy to do once he realized that Will would back up just about whatever he said, and the more he pulled from his own daydreams, the more believable the stories became.

He never once anticipated that he would have to dance with Will. Sit next to him, sure, and endure the feeling of Will’s breath on his neck every time Will leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Have dinner, and steal food off of each other’s plates like they’d been doing since college, that was a given. Stand pressed up against the most attractive man in the room while he held one of Nico’s hands and had his other hand at the small of Nico’s back while they swayed in time with the soft, slow music around them? Nico might have actually dropped dead had Will not been holding him up. He definitely wasn’t drunk enough for this. 

His head dropped against Will’s chest when he started feeling tired, but he didn’t want to let go of Will or the feeling of Will holding him so close. Eventually, though, Will whispered in his ear that they should head out soon, and pulled away - though not before Nico felt a suspicious brush of something like lips against his cheek as Will moved. 

Nico nearly fell asleep in the car on their way back to Will’s apartment, though as soon as they laid down in Will’s bed, he was completely wide awake once more. He hated that feeling, when he would almost fall asleep on the couch, but as soon as he stood up to head to bed, he felt like he’d just woken up from a good night’s rest. Will must not have had the same experience, however, because as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. Nico didn’t mind; it gave him plenty of opportunity to watch Will as he slept - not in a creepy way, but more like he was...in love with the way Will’s curls fell over his face while he slept, and how he murmured while he dreamt but never said any real words. 

That was probably the first time Nico fell in love with Will, back when they were in college. They’d both fallen asleep next to each other somewhere, and Nico had been woken up by the sound of a voice. When he opened his eyes, he couldn’t find anyone around him aside from Will, and almost fell back asleep before Will murmured again. Nico was fascinated. It was like Will held entire conversations in his dreams, but could never fully verbalize them while he slept, so Nico started trying to make up the story happening inside Will’s head based on the tiny shifts in Will’s expression. 

Nico smiled as he listened to Will’s nonsense mumbling, letting it lull him toward sleep. Will rolled onto his side after a moment, toward Nico, and draped an arm around Nico to pull him closer. Nico’s heart jumped at first, though he quickly relaxed into the hold - so similar to when they’d been dancing just a couple of hours beforehand. He tucked his head under Will’s chin and tried to make words out of Will’s muttering.

“I love you,” he thought he heard Will say, but that was probably just wishful thinking.

When Will woke up the next morning, his movement woke Nico as well. Nico glared up at him for disturbing his sleep, and Will smiled sheepishly with a whispered apology. He brushed his fingers through Nico’s hair until Nico’s eyes fell shut again, and Will silently left the room. 

After ten minutes or so of Nico waiting for sleep to overtake him once more, he gave up with a huff. He rolled out of bed and left the room, heading toward the living room where Will was sitting on the couch with a book in his hand. Nico approached him, grabbing a throw pillow off one end of the couch that he threw in Will’s lap before he dropped onto the couch. With his head on Will’s lap, his feet hung over the arm of the couch, yet he was perfectly comfortable, and his eyes slipped shut.

Will set a hand on Nico’s chest. “Couldn’t fall back asleep?”

Nico grunted in response. 

Will reached up and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over Nico. He set his hand on Nico’s chest once more, dragging his knuckles up and down over Nico’s sternum until Nico drifted off to sleep. Will kept his hand on Nico’s chest, a comforting weight as Will’s attention returned to his book. 

When Nico woke up the second time, it stuck. As soon as he sat up, he reached for Will’s coffee that had been abandoned on the table in front of them, and grimaced at the taste.

“This is a disgrace to coffee,” Nico told him, his voice rough with sleep. 

“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” Will shot back. “And it’s your fault I let that coffee go cold in the first place.”

Nico stood and took Will’s coffee cup with him as he left the room, then returned a few minutes later with a mug of his own, and Will’s now reheated drink. 

“Are you doing anything today?” Nico asked after a few sips of coffee, now sounding significantly more awake. 

Will shook his head. “I have the weekend off.”

Nico glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Video games?”

Will set his book aside in an instant. 

Nico spent another night in Will’s apartment, and had to wiggle out of Will’s hold on him in order to reach for his phone when it started to ring. Had it been anyone besides Jason, Nico would have ignored it and crawled back into the warmth of Will’s arms - he almost did anyway - but he answered the phone with a groaned out, “What?”

“Hey, I’ve been knocking on your door for ten minutes, would you let me in already?” Jason demanded. 

“No.”

Jason hesitated. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not there. Did you need something, or can I go back to sleep?”

“Where are you?”

“I spent the night at Will’s place.” At the sound of his name, Will stirred, and reached a hand out to grab onto Nico’s - Will’s - t-shirt.

“Who’s it?” he mumbled, fighting to open his eyes.

“It’s just Jason,” Nico answered, covering Will’s hand with his own. “Go back to sleep.”

Will hummed, and let himself relax once more. 

“Okay,” Jason said, drawing out the word. “I didn’t realize you two were so...close. Anyway, I guess I just needed to tell you that Piper and I decided on a venue in Paris to make it easier for her family to come. Make sure your passport is up to date - and Will’s, too, I guess, since you checked plus-one on your RSVP card.”

“‘Kay, is that all?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess so.”

“Cool. Bye.” Nico hung up and dropped his phone, then rolled over to Will and wormed his way back into his arms, pressing up against the warmth of the other’s body. 

“Okay?” Will asked, and for a second Nico couldn’t decide whether he was really asking or talking in his sleep again.

“Yeah. Wedding stuff,” Nico replied, and Will hummed once again. A few moments later, they were both asleep.

About an hour or so later when the two woke again, Will curled himself tighter around Nico. “What did Jason want?” 

“They picked a venue,” Nico answered, mumbling the words into Will’s collarbone. “In Paris. You have a passport, right?”

“Mhm. Might need to renew it, though. You taking me to Paris?”

“Depends.” Nico slipped a hand under Will’s shirt and pressed his cold fingers to Will’s skin. “Are you gonna make me some coffee?”

Will flinched, and ripped Nico’s hand away from him, pressing Nico’s hand to the mattress and leaning over him. “Don’t touch me with your icicle fingers!”

Nico grinned. “Quit being so warm and inviting to my icicles. Only you can melt my ice cold heart.”

Something changed about the look in Will’s eyes, and the joking expression seemed to wipe from his face. Then, he dropped his weight on top of Nico and pressed their lips together, just for a second, before he yanked himself away. He lifted himself up over Nico and stared down at him with those wide blue eyes. “Um. We need coffee.”

As Will practically ran out of the room, Nico remained where he was, relaxing back into the pillows behind him. His lips tingled from the feeling of Will’s against them, and he felt warmth spread through his body, to the tips of his fingers and down to his toes. By the time he pulled himself out of bed, his cheeks were aching from the force of his smile.

He went out to the kitchen where he found Will staring down the coffee pot, and stopped a few feet away with his arms crossed. Nico cleared his throat to get Will’s attention, and while Will turned to face him, he wouldn’t meet Nico’s eyes. 

“Nico, I--”

“Come over here so I can put you in a headlock.”

Will’s worry instantly flashed into confusion. Despite the anxious way he held his body, Will took a step closer. Nico met him halfway and wrapped an arm around the back of Will’s neck to pull him down to his level, and Will started to fight back until Nico brought them together for a kiss. 

Will’s hands found Nico’s waist to steady himself, and when they broke the kiss, Will was watching him with that same startled expression he’d had ever their first kiss. “You’re not… mad?”

“Of course not. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

Being one of Jason’s best friends, Nico was enlisted to help with as much of the wedding setup as could be done before they got to Paris. He’d even been asked to get an earlier flight out with the wedding party to make sure everything was done and done right by the time guests started arriving. Unfortunately, Will had already requested his time off, and couldn’t leave early with Nico, but promised to make it up to him once he finally did arrive. 

Even worse than being in one of the most romantic cities in the world with his boyfriend was dealing with the teasing he had to endure from his so-called friends. Nico had decided to take an oblivious approach right away - he and Will weren’t the clingiest couple around their friends, and had never bothered to confirm their suspicions on the nature of their relationship - so anytime his romantic entanglement with Will was mentioned, Nico played dumb. They’d been friends since college, and acted just the same as they always had around each other. What was so weird about inviting his purely platonic friend to a wedding in Paris as his plus one?

Nico had paid for a limited amount of international minutes for emergencies, but also so that he could call Will before he went to bed each night they were apart. As he settled into bed that night, he called Will, who was just leaving the hospital he worked at. 

“Hey there, Darling,” Will answered, and Nico could hear the smile in his voice. They spent a few minutes updating each other on the days they’d had, and Will reminded Nico of what time he would be arriving in Paris the next day. “I also have an idea that you’re either going to love or absolutely hate.”

Nico snorted. “Well, when you say it like that, how could I say no?”

“Before I tell you what it is, I need to know whether you paid for international data.”

Nico frowned. “No, just minutes. Why?”

“And did you pay for wifi at the hotel?”

“No, but it’s free in the lobby, so I just go down there if I need to do anything important.”

“Great! I think we should go Facebook official.”

“We should...what?”

“You know, how people put their relationship status on Facebook?” Will explained. “I think we should do that, like, tonight, because then, for as long as we’re in Paris, we won’t have any way of seeing what anybody has to say about it. And we can just play things off like normal. Don’t you think it’d be hilarious if everybody we know here in the states knew about our relationship, but everyone that’s actually with us in Paris had no idea until they went back home?”

Nico smiled. “You do whatever you want, babe, but I don’t even have Facebook.”

“You don’t?” Will hummed. “Alright, that might not work as well as I thought, then. I’ll think of something else, trust me, it’ll be great.”

“Whatever you say.”

“You should get some sleep, sunshine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nico smiled so wide that his cheeks started to hurt. “Yeah. I can’t wait.”

Nico ditched last minute setup early in order to meet Will at the airport, despite Jason’s complaints that Will could just get a cab there - and if they were truly just friends like Nico insisted they were, then Will should be fine on his own. Nico simply flipped him off and got in a cab. 

They dropped Will’s bag at the hotel before venturing out into the city, ignoring their responsibilities to the wedding setup. They only had a few days to spend abroad, and they were going to make the most of them. They visited the Louvre, and saw the Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe, and Will insisted on taking a cheesy picture with Nico outside each of them. 

It was late by the time they finally returned to the hotel, and crossed paths with Piper in the lobby. She crossed her arms and glared when she saw them. “You skipped out on the rehearsal dinner.”

“We’re not in the wedding party,” Will pointed out with a confused pout.

Nico shrugged and told her, “Will wanted to see the Louvre.”

Piper looked between them. “Mhm, I’m sure that’s all you were doing.”

Nico frowned. “Okay, well, it’s late, so we’re gonna head to bed. You probably should too, since, you know...you’re getting married tomorrow?”

Piper poked him in the chest. “di Angelo, you are so lucky I’ve got so much to do.”

Nico rolled his eyes and grabbed Will’s sleeve. “C’mon Will.”

“Goodnight, Piper,” Will said as they passed. “See you tomorrow!”

They took the elevator up to the room they were sharing, and as soon as they were inside, Will flopped onto one of the beds. Nico frowned from his place on the other bed. “I hope you’re not planning on sleeping over there when there’s so much empty space over here with me.”

Will flapped a hand in the air above him. “But you’re so...far. And I’m so tired. You come to me.”

Nico stood up and leaned over Will. “Don’t make me use my icicle fingers on you again.”

Will propped himself up on his elbows. “There’s no way you’re still so cold in July.”

“If you get up now, you won’t find out.”

With a sigh, Will got to his feet, his movements slow until he wrapped his arms around Nico’s waist and tackled him into the bed behind him. 

“Hey!” Nico shouted, and wiggled his hands up until he could hold his fingers against Will’s neck. “You asked for it!”

Will pulled Nico’s hands away and pressed them to the mattress, and leaned down for a kiss.

As soon as Nico saw Will in his suit, he wanted to take him right back out of it, but Will insisted that they needed to leave, and forced Nico to get dressed as well. They were two of the first guests to arrive, which made it easy for Jason and Reyna to find them beforehand and stare down the arm that Will had around Nico’s waist. 

“Nico,” Jason said in his stern dad voice. “Do you have something you’d like to tell us?”

Nico raised an eyebrow at him. “Uh, no?”

“Leo told us that the two of you are together,” Reyna clarified. “Is this true?”

Will looked down to meet Nico’s eyes for a second, and they both started shaking their heads. “Nope, we’re just here as friends,” Will told them, though his arm stayed firmly planted around Nico’s waist. 

“Besides, did Leo even show you any proof?” Nico demanded. 

“No, but he mentioned something about a post on one of Will’s social media accounts,” Jason said.

“Well, I’d show you all of my accounts if I could,” Will told them, “but I didn’t pay for international data, so I left my phone in the hotel room, sorry.”

“Anyway, we’d better go get our seats before the place fills up,” Nico said, ignoring the mostly empty room around them. “See you guys in there.”

Inside the next room, there were a few more people milling about, and Nico spotted his sister already rising out of her seat. Hazel practically tackled Nico with the force of her hug, and the high-pitched squeal of her voice was sure to leave his ears ringing.

“I’m so happy for you two!” she announced, and backed away to smile at the two of them. “Why didn’t you tell me you two had gotten together?”

“Because we haven’t,” Nico told her.

“But Leo said--”

“Why did Leo of all people spring for international data?” Nico asked rhetorically, though he still looked up at Will for an answer.

“Couldn’t tell you, sunshine.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Hazel,” Nico said.

“But you still came together, right?”

“Yeah,” Will answered, “I’m his plus one.”

Hazel frowned in confusion. “Um. Okay. You two should come sit we me and Frank so we can all catch up on...whatever the two of you have been up to.”

They followed Hazel back to her seat and claimed the two beside them for themselves as they greeted Frank. The four of them chatted for a while as they waited for the ceremony to begin, and soon enough the room was filled with people - Piper’s French relatives taking up most of one side, while Jason’s friends and family filled up the other. Music began to play, and Reyna and Leo, as best woman and man of honor respectively, started down the aisle, and the ceremony began. 

Nico spent most of the ceremony with his head on Will’s shoulder and one hand resting on Will’s thigh, while Will’s arm was stretched out behind him. He’d gotten a few confused looks that he noticed out of the corner of his eye during the ceremony, and many more after everything was all said and done. Still, Nico and Will played it off like it hadn’t happened, and went to the reception along with everybody else. 

Percy was the next one to point out their supposed relationship as he dropped into the seat across from them at dinner. “Dude,” he started, “are you two actually together? Like, for real? Because Grover mentioned something to me at my wedding about the two of you, but I didn’t believe it, and then Leo said--”

“Again with Leo spreading rumors,” Nico said, rolling his eyes. “Did he actually have any proof, or was he just talking?”

Percy’s head tilted. “Yeah, he showed me this picture from Will’s snapchat--”

Nico turned to Will with a frown. “What picture?”

Will’s eyes widened. “Um--”

“Hang on, I’ll go get him and he can show you himself,” Percy said, and just like that, he was gone.

Will stood as well, and held out a hand to Nico. “C’mon, let’s try to get lost on the dance floor and maybe he won’t bother us again.”

Normally, Nico hated dancing, especially when there were so many witnesses around, but the thought of Will holding him close as they swayed back and forth to the music was enough for Nico to take Will’s hand. He was pulled to his feet and taken across the room to the dance floor where Will weaved them between dancing couples until they were perfectly invisible among the rest of the crowd. 

That could only last so long, though, and soon enough they were found. Not by Leo or Percy, but by Piper. She grabbed onto the sleeve of Nico’s jacket and pulled him - and by extension, Will - back to the tables where they were instructed to sit as she stood over them with her arms crossed. Of course, Will sat in the nearest chair, and Nico let himself be pulled into Will’s lap. 

“Why is everybody at my wedding talking about your relationship?” Piper demanded. 

Nico and Will shared a look over Nico’s shoulder. Nico replied, “What relationship? Will and I are just friends.”

Piper looked them up and down - at Will’s chin resting on Nico’s shoulder, at his arm fastened securely around Nico’s waist to hold him on his lap - and glared. “You call this--” she waved a hand at them as if to specify everything about them, “--just friends?”

“Yep,” Nico answered cooly. 

Piper spotted someone behind them and called out, “Lacy! Viens ici.” She pointed at Nico and said, “Listen closely, because you’ll need to translate for him.”

“You speak French?” Will asked, his voice low in Nico’s ear. “That’s hot.”

Nico grinned and winked, then turned his attention back to Piper.

“Qui sont ils?” she asked, gesturing to Nico and Will, and Nico whispered to Will the translation: who are they?

Lacy looked at them and smiled brightly. “Ils s’appellent Will et Nico! Ils sont amoureux!”

Nico felt his cheeks heating up as he translated, “That’s Will and Nico, they’re...in love.”

Piper asked, “Comment le sais-tu?”

“Leo m’a dit.”

“Leo told her.”

“Leo just can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?” Will pressed a smile into the side of Nico’s neck and told him softly, “I do love you, though, you know.”

Nico covered Will’s hand on his stomach with one of his own. “Do you really?”

“Of course I do, sunshine, I’ve always--”

Just then, Percy and Leo ran up to them, and Percy shoved a phone in Nico’s face. “Look, Nico, here’s the proof!”

Nico took the phone and stared at the picture - it was a screenshot of a picture Will had posted to his snapchat story from the camera roll. Nico didn’t remember ever seeing the picture, but it was clearly him in it that Will was kissing on the cheek. The caption on the image said, “Can’t wait to reunite with my love in Paris,” with a small assortment of heart emojis scattered over the image.

Nico twisted in Will’s lap just enough that he could look him in the eye when he said, “I love you, too,” and pulled him in for a kiss. 

It didn’t last long, but during it he heard a few surprised exclamations, including a shout from Piper who said, “You’re not helping, Leo!” and a squeal from Lacy that sounded something like, “Trop mignon!” So cute! 

When they broke apart, Piper fixed them with another glare and said, “I think I’m going to have to ask you two to leave.”

Nico grinned and hopped off Will’s lap. “That’s fine, we were on our way out anyway.” He took Will’s hand and pulled him toward the nearest exit.

Percy whooped and called after them, “Welcome to the family, Will!”

Nico ordered a bottle of champagne to be sent up to their room, and by the time the bottle was half empty, Will and Nico were lying pressed together between the sheets, content and warm and a little bit buzzed. 

Will trailed a finger up and down Nico’s spine as Nico made himself comfortable with his head pillowed on Will’s chest. “Okay, so I’m a little bit tipsy,” Will started, his voice barely above a whisper, “but I’ve been thinking.”

Nico lifted his head, resting his chin on Will’s chest. “Hmm?”

“If I asked you to marry me right now, what would you say?” 

Nico’s heart stopped. He felt like something inside his chest was constricting, and like the walls were closing in around him. 

“I’m not going to,” Will said, just as calm as before, not betraying the pounding of his heart that Nico could clearly feel. “I’m just curious.”

Nico frowned and pinched Will’s side. “You gave me a heart attack! I thought you were, like, actually asking!”

“Well, I might, one of these days, and you’ll need to be prepared,” Will told him, offering Nico a soft smile to match his voice. “But I don’t want to ask unless I know you’re going to say yes. I mean, if we’re together for, like, five years and we’re not engaged yet? You can bet I’ll be dropping hints like crazy.”

Nico’s breath caught. “You’re...really serious about this, huh?”

Will trailed his fingers up to Nico’s hair, twisting gently in the strands. “Of course I am. I’d say yes if you proposed with a Ring Pop.” 

“Good to know that I won’t have to drop a thousand dollars on a ring, then,” Nico joked, but Will’s gaze just softened even more. 

“I love you so much, Nico.”

A month later, Will was a groomsman at his brother’s wedding, so while he and Nico were technically there together, they spent most of their time there apart. 

They finally came together for a dance after dinner, and Will started whispering in his ear, “What did you think of the cake?” or “I like the color scheme they chose, don’t you?”

Nico tried to keep up with everything Will was saying, while trying to keep Will’s talk of proposing out of his head.

“Yeah, the, um, they did a great job with the decorations,” Nico told him, and Will’s smile was the brightest thing in the room.

Since he’d officially become “part of the family,” as Percy had insisted, Will was invited to Frank’s bachelor party, though Nico wondered if that was just because they wanted someone responsible around when everybody started drinking. Will wasn’t much of a drinker to begin with, so Nico made the decision early in the night to go easy on the booze so that Will wasn’t left babysitting. 

Frank, not being one for partying, had requested a simple get-together with video games, junk food, and alcohol, though Percy and Leo seemed to have pre-gamed, and took the party one step closer to crazy. 

Nico was in the middle of absolutely destroying Frank in their third round of Smash when something hit him in the back of the head. He waited until the round was finished before he turned around and saw Percy and Leo digging through one of the candy bowls.

“Found one!” Leo exclaimed, and was immediately tackled to the ground by Percy. 

Nico scanned the room, but he didn’t see Will anywhere. He abandoned his controller and jumped to his feet, narrowly avoiding a collision with Jason who dove for Nico’s controller. Nico ran to pull Percy and Leo apart, and got in between them to rip the candy out of their hands before they hurt each other. 

“Neeks, give it back!” Leo shouted.

“That’s the last one!” Percy said. “Give it to me!”

Nico managed to get the candy away from both of them and got to his feet just in time to see Will walking back into the room.

“Will!” Nico called out, and tossed the plastic wrapping.

Will caught it in surprise, and his eyes widened as he slowly lifted his gaze to Nico.

Nico wanted to figure out what that look was for, but before he could start toward Will, Percy and Leo pulled him back to the ground. He could just barely see the TV around the limbs that were preventing him from moving away, and saw that Jason and Frank had just finished the round they were playing. Nico called out, “Frank! Help!”

“Percy, Leo, come grab controllers,” Frank said over his shoulder.

Amazingly enough, they listened.

Nico hurried off toward his boyfriend, about to ask what the surprised look was for when he glanced down at the plastic-wrapped candy Will was delicately cradling in his hands. When he caught the glint of that shiny green wrapper, he instantly knew what he’d done.

“Nico--” Will started, but Nico didn’t allow him to finish. He grabbed Will’s arm and dragged him to the nearest door, which just so happened to lead them outside. Being late October in the middle of the night, it was cold enough for them to see their breaths, though with the rate Nico’s heart was pumping adrenaline through his veins, he couldn’t feel the cold at all. 

Will kept his eyes glued to the Ring Pop in his hands. “Darling, I know you didn’t think of it like that--”

Nico snatched the candy away and tore open the wrapper. He took out the ring and dropped down to one knee, and realized when he held the ring up to Will that his hands had started to shake. “Will,” he started, and cleared his throat to keep his voice from cracking with nerves, “I love you. I know you know that, but… I don’t think I show it enough. I can’t promise you anything right this second, but… Will you marry me someday?”

Will looked like he’d just witnessed a plane crash - his eyes wide and mouth hanging open in shock - and Nico felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest. He thought he might throw up or pass out or die on the spot, and then Will smiled. His entire face lit up, and Nico’s own cheeks ached just from looking at Will’s beaming smile. Will knelt down in front of him and pulled Nico into his arms, laughing softly into Nico’s ear as he said, “I love you so much, sunshine.”

Nico pushed himself back, his lips turned down and a furrow between his brows. “Are you...laughing at me? I just… I just put my whole heart on the line just now, and… I thought this was what you wanted!”

Will took Nico’s face in his hands and brought him in for a kiss - soft, short, and sweet. “Of course it is, darling, but I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Nico took Will’s left hand and slipped the Ring Pop onto his finger - it wouldn’t slide past the second knuckle. “I want you, Will. I’d do anything for you.”

“I’d do anything for you, too, which is why--” Will took off the ring, and pressed it into Nico’s hand, careful not to touch the candy jewel to Nico’s skin, “--I’ll let you off the hook. For now, at least.”

Nico seemed to deflate, finally feeling the chill of the air around him. “Okay. Okay, fine. But when I buy you a real ring, you’re not allowed to return it.”

Will kissed his forehead. “Deal.”

Hazel asked Nico to give a speech at the reception, and even with a microphone in his hand he spoke so quietly and mumbled his words together so much that he could hardly be heard. It sounded like he’d rather be getting his teeth pulled than give that speech in front of the crowd, and all he could do was speed through it to get it over with. 

As Will watched the love of his life suffering through his worst nightmare, Leo appeared at Will’s shoulder and groaned, “I can’t believe you’re dating him. It must be a fight just to get him to hold a conversation with you!”

Will laughed, and kept his eyes on Nico as he replied, “Are you kidding? It’s a fight to get him to shut up sometimes.”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee

[lemongrasskiaiyo]

( booboo stewart, 26, genderqueer ) I just bumped into [ LEMONGRASS "LEMON" KIAIYO ] the other day while walking down [ EAST ] Kingsboro, where [ HE/THEY] live. I hear they can be [ PURE HEARTED ] and [ DAFT ], but when I think of them I immediately think about [ PLAYING GUITAR AT A BONFIRE, HANGING OFF OF THE ROOF OF A SKYSCRAPER FOR FUN, THE SMELL OF FRESH CUT WOOD ] ( ella, 26, they/them, est )

{ fire tw, death tw, missing child tw }

FULL  NAME  ,  NICKNAME(S)  : lemongrass sochi kiaiyo

AGE  ,  DOB  ,  ZODIAC  :  twenty - six , june 28  ,  cancer

HOMETOWN  :  elmon cape, marshall islands

GENDER  ,  PRONOUNS  :  genderqueer,  she / they

ORIENTATION  : pansexual  ,  panromantic

OCCUPATION  : courier / artist

LANGUAGE(S)  SPOKEN  :  english  -  fluent  ,  marshallese - fluent , spanish - fluent , arabic - fluent , russian - fluent , mandarin - conversational , french - conversational 

FAMILY LIFE: born on a deep-sea research ship somewhere in the middle of the pacific ocean, lemongrass is the oldest of three. when he was two years old, just before his sister sage was born, his parents moved to an international research center in the elmon cape of the marshall islands to study the local shark population. when lemon was thirteen, their little sister saffron was born. the three siblings were inseparable, just as much best friends as they were family. {tw: fire, death} when lemon was sixteen, he and his friend were trying to make homemade fireworks, and caused a fire that killed three people, including his parents. {end tw}

PRE-KINGSBORO LIFE: lemongrass and his sisters were sent to live with family in america, and lemon soon learned that the american high school system was not made for kids like him. he began to act out, skipping school to smoke weed in the woods behind a taco bell, making friends with the wrong people, and eventually dropping out of school all together when he turned 18. one night, lemon snuck out of his bedroom window to go to a party. he didn’t know that saffron, almost six at the time, had followed him out into the street. {tw: missing child} when he returned in the early hours of the morning, he was met by police officers. saffron had never made it back into the house, and hasn’t been seen since. {end tw}. he stuck around until the police stopped investigating, and then took off, using his inheritance to travel the globe. 

KINGSBORO LIFE: it’s been eight years since he left home, and lemon is ready to find a new one. he landed in kingsboro by mistake, about six months ago, when they got off the greyhound to grab some food and missed getting back on. so, a strong believer in fate, they decided to stay. they’ve found freelance work as a courier for people they probably shouldn’t be working for, but as long as they’re fast and quiet and never ask questions, they make decent money. they’re looking for a more permanent job now that they’ve decided to stick around kings for a bit.

DREAMS & GOALS: lemon is a creative, passionate artist. while most of their work is abstract paintings, they are currently working on a portrait series highlighting missing children forgotten by the american justice system. they are hoping to one day get a chance to have the paintings hung in a real gallery with an audience of people who have the power to help, but for now they post them anonymously on an instagram account dedicated to the project. he also has a second anonymous insta dedicated to photos he’s taken at the top of skyscrapers, where he likes to risk death for the perfect photo.

PERSONALITY: lemon is...very, very dumb. they are a good, sweet child, but very dumb. except when it comes to languages. they grew up surrounded by many different languages, and so from a young age, was always able to pick them up quickly. lemon can be an immature, childish person, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders and will always do the right thing. he seems to have been born without the ability to feel fear so he is pretty much always doing something dangerous.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

PARTNER IN CRIME; one might call them best friends, but with the amount of trouble they get into, partners in crime is more fitting. they’re the first person lemon goes to for everything, including dank memes, this wicked dog he saw on the street, and this cool new song he heard. ( @claudiafernandez96​ )

BAD INFLUENCE;  lemon is easily swayed to the dark side, he’s reckless and impulsive and is pretty much down for anything. he needs someone to corrupt him a little and get him into even more trouble. 

GOOD INFLUENCE; lemon is a soft boy, but he can be very hard on himself. he needs someone in his life who will encourage him to drink water, sleep more than a few hours a week, and maybe even eat a vegetable. they support and encourage each other, cheering each other on. ( @booknerdaurora​ )

SPOUSE-ISH; they met, married, and parted ways all in the same alcohol-fuelled weekend. they were extremely drunk and got married quite suddenly, but by the time they sobered up, all they has was the memories and the rings, no paperwork to be found. nobody is actually sure if they’re legally married or not, but lemon likes to teas them by calling them his spouse anyway.

CASUAL HOOKUP/FWB/ONE NIGHT STAND; lemon has literally zero game but somehow people still find his dorkiness charming. well, that and the fact that he’s gorgeous and yet somehow doesn’t realize it. 

CLOSE FRIENDS; lemon is just now starting to build and maintain solid, lasting relationships with people he otherwise would have eventually lost touch with. each friendship is different, but it’s time for lemon to have a circle of people he can rely on; a new family. ( @codyhq, @travhq​ )

EXES; because he had little interaction with people his own age until he was sixteen, lemon can often miss very important social cues, often leading to any relationships or flirtationship breaking down unexpectedly. he also doesn’t like staying in one place for too long, and has probably left a trail of broken hearts around the world.

he’s very open, please feel free to message me at any time for more!

[talldarkandroguesome]

14th of First Seed, Sundas

I finally received word back from Chancellor of Precedent concerning the official acceptance of Kuna into the House. 

Of course I made my way down to the office immediately, arriving just behind the messenger announcing my eminent arrival.

The Chancellor had me take a seat as his assistants brought forth some very old volumes of precedents from the first era.

It was very exciting to see that there was a record of the official acceptance of a half-Altmer son into House Hlaalu. In their case, there was only one heir to the family line who had been quite sickly, so they had allowed it in order to ensure that the bloodline did not die out.

I asked if, since my son was not in poor health what it would mean for our chances of getting things passed.

The Chancellor explained that since I had no other siblings and that Uncle Urnel had no heirs, unless the Council would allow the re-admittance of Aunt Vivyne’s family, my line was the last one acceptable for the continuation of the Grandmaster’s bloodline. Therefore, we would certainly be granted our Litterae Patentes so long as uncle Urnel approved. The House Council could, of course, contest the decision, but given that I have only one heir and that the bloodline would otherwise end there, the chances of objection were fairly slim, given that none of the other Councilmer were closely related enough to try and get themselves placed upon the throne as Grandmaster.

After going over the next steps and all the forms, I agreed I would like to proceed. Since I had already spoken with Mother, I knew that she would provide sponsorship of the move to begin the process.

So we filled out the necessary documentation and the Chancellor and I both provided our official stamps and the assistants took them directly to be filed. 

Soon my daughter will be a part of this House. And that is something that I am so proud of.

I also asked the Chancellor about filing the adoption of Cariel as well. I said I was not seeking to have her added as a potential heir, but rather, simply to have her recognized as my child within the family registry.

That paperwork was also drawn up and filed.

I spent the better part of the day working on the process before getting in the carriage to return.

Unsurprisingly, someone tried to shoot me through the window of the carriage. The magickal barriers placed around the carriage prevented it, but it did make a spectacular flash of light. As I turned to the light, I saw it flashed out into the direction from whence the attack came. Two of the Ordinators in the procession steered their guar off towards the direction of the attack, even as we continued down the road and towards the manor.

When I arrived home to announce to everyone that things were going well, I found Nabine was not yet returned. Mother was there, with the girls and so we had a nice long talk about how Kuna was now officially in the process of becoming an heir to the throne. Cariel seemed a little disappointed that she would not be following in her sister’s footsteps. I explained that while she would not be eligable to become the Grandmaster, I was still having her added as an official member to the House by way of being my daughter.

I could see Mother bristling with words she wished to speak, but I told her in Chimeris to leave it be and let me take care of it as time grew. She, to her credit, said she would allow it.

I explained to Cariel that I saw her as every bit as much of the family as Kuna. That I loved her and would always think of her as my own daughter and treat her in the same manner.

It is difficult to know how much she truly understood. I know she must see herself as being different. I assured her that, since she did not have to worry about becoming Grandmaster, it meant she would not have to sit through quite so many long lessons about how to behave or have to memorize the long passages of ancient rites. She would even be free from some of the rules and regulations and could play a lot more as a result. I tried to point out every benefit to not having to join the line of succession.

By the end she seemed in rather a good mood and I made sure that we had treats served to both girls.

Mother told me she would accept the sponsorship and would even agree to take the lead on Kuna’s education towards that end. I thanked her, knowing that there was much to be done and the Council to still be convinced. With Mother’s agreement, however, I can only imagine that many will be swayed.

Mother also says that she will stop by uncle Urnel’s tonight and speak with him about all that is going on. And that in the next day or two everything will be put to a vote before the Council and the Litterae Patentes signed. Kuna would be officially granted the title and a brief ceremony would be held when everything was completed.

By the time Nabine returned, a more than a little inebriated, everything was well on its way.

I was surprized to find that Nabine was not happy about my wanting to adopt Cariel officially. I told her that I wanted the House to see Cariel as equally deserving of everything as her sister.

Nabine argued that I was not her father and that it was not my place to insist that I take that title.

I apologized and asked her if she would like for me to have the adoption paperwork rescinded.

That seemed only to set her off more. 

I realized that something else must be bothering her and so I waited for her to get out her frustrations and then asked her if something had happened or if there was something more going on.

She started to get angry again, saying I was patronizing her.

Knowing from past arguments how this goes, I used my birthgift to get her to relax and to tell me what was really bothering her, because I loved her and I wanted to do my best by her.

She told me she hated when I used my birthgift on her, but explained that she was unhappy with life in Mournhold. The constant threats, the having to sneak around all the time, the nasty looks people gave her. It made her feel awful. Worst of all, she had to watch what she did more closely, she had little outlet for her anger, and the one thing that would make it better, spending time with her family, she was denied under the current circumstances.

I wrapped her in my arms and told her I was sorry that things were so difficult. That I hated that it made her unhappy.

She said that she missed just being able to spend the day hunting with her girls or hanging out at a bar without feeling eyes on her at all times.

So I agreed that as soon as the business with Urtisa was concluded, the girls were accepted, and enough time had passed to keep us from suspicion, that I would take her and we would travel with the girls. We could spend some time back in Grahtwood and then travel to Elsweyr. We would stay with my husband and have all of our families together in one place. And if she was unhappy there, that we could do somewhere else. Someplace she wanted to go in order to feel happy. If it was Valenwood or Skyrim or anywhere else on Tamriel, I would go with her to the best of my ability.

It was then that I realized that she was worried. Worried about her life and her girls’, but also about being left again. Nabine said that considering what she had seen happen, she just was not sure what to expect. Everything was so uncertain, but not in the fun way. With so many responsibilities, with obligations pulling us in so many directions, she was scared. Even if we killed Urtisa, even if the House accepted everything and actually allowed us to travel, what new impediments would stand in the way? There was so much that she did not feel as though she could see a path forward for us. And she did not desire to be chained to a House that would keep her from doing as she pleased. Even more, she worried what would happen to Kuna or Cariel and if the House tried to take them away from her somehow.

How foolish I have been not to have seen that, even with her wanting much of this, there would be fears, too. She is a citizen of a state with which ours is a war. She has heard about the way my son and I have both been raised in this House. Of course there would be worries there, fears of what is to come.

I kissed her and told her that I shared much of those same fears. That it hurt to think that, given everything, we might be separated again. And yet, I was willing to do what needed to be done so that we had the greatest chance at success.

Nabine grabbed my shoulders in a grip so tight, it left bruises. She told me that, no matter what, I was to promise her that her girls would never be taken from her by the House. I promised her that if I had to lose my life time and again, I would see to it that the House would not ever keep her from the girls.

With that, Nabine told me to carry her to bed and get her comfortable and massage her feet.

I laughed, happy to see she was recovering herself once more and lifted her in my arms and set her gently onto the bed before going to get the oils.

Even from the other room, I could hear her softly crying and so I took a little extra time to allow her not to be embarrassed. I know how much she hates having anyone, even me, see her cry. I understand how much she hates letting her vulnerability show.

I apologized that I had had trouble finding the oils she wanted, and was happy to hear her give me a small scolding, even with her voice wavering slightly.

After I had done my best to pamper her, we got in bed and I held her until she fell asleep.

I could not rest. My mind ruminated on the fears she had, the hurt that I had brought upon her. I could have cried myself. And yet, I managed to distract myself long enough to bolster my own emotions.

As Nabine sleeps on peacefully, I cannot help but wonder what is truly to come.

She and her girls are both in danger as the result of coming here. I have done this to them.

Worst of all, the downside of not being entirely mortal now, is knowing that I will have to watch them all die. All of those who I care about. I know it will be a long time for the mer in my life. We have long life spans, after all.

But what of Qau-dar, Little Khes, the quadruplets? The lives of Khajiit are much shorter.

And after that, what then? See Nabine pass? Kuna? Cariel? Sildras?

Surely they will have children, some of them.

And I will grow to love them as well. And then I shall watch as they grow old and pass. If I am lucky, of course. There is every chance that the dangers of the world may see themselves stealing those lives early.

Is this what the guardian spirits face?

No, it is not the same. They do not have the ability to interfere. They can only listen or observe. I will be able to interfere.

Perhaps that is the price of what I have done. A price I gladly will pay. I shall become the guardian of my line.

There are other mortals who have found themselves living well beyond normal means. Divayth Fyr comes to mind. Though he has quite the reputation for serving only his own pursuits and not those of others these days.

Will I, similarly, become jaded and cold as the centuries turn to millennia? I can only hope that I am able to remain the same mer. That my personality remains as it is.

Dawn will some soon, I should try to rest. Tomorrow will be busy.

[reliciron]

Notes on Redeeming Arcann: Part 1

Ok, here are my thoughts on redeeming Arcann. This is just my own current analysis of his character and where I might take him in possible future fics. If someone has a different interpretation I would love to hear it as my own ideas on him continue to shift. If anyone is struggling with his character, I hope this might give you a starting point or jog some new ideas. And if you’re just reading this because you like character analysis (I do too), then I hope you enjoy it and it’s not too incoherent.

This first part will focus more on redeeming Arcann. The second will be my thoughts on his character motivations.

Part 2

Alright, this is going to be very, very long, so strap in. 

Ok, so since I don’t have a lot of experience writing, I felt my own grasp of what it takes to redeem a villain was a little too shaky to do Arcann’s redemption justice on my own. He’s admittedly a pretty horrific character at his worst, and the game itself really doesn’t do a very good job of giving him a believable redemption arc. I feel it would be very easy for an inexperienced writer like me to fall into character apologia and try to ignore what he’s done in favor of ‘it’s not his fault’. Fiction is full of men who act like jerks and excuse it with daddy issues, and I’m really trying to carry that awareness into his redemption so I can avoid that pitfall. The atrocities he committed were his choices, but understanding why he became a character who would make those choices does not mean that he wasn’t ultimately at fault for what he did.

So with that in mind I did a quick search, looked through a few guides on redemption, and eventually settled on this one.

In an effort to make this smooth, I have copy/pasted the major points from the article and put them in brackets with my responses following each one.

[Realism is derived from a multitude of factors, but one of the most important is having authentic motives. Villainy is a dark path for a reason – it’s hard to come back from – which is why you need a super-bright ‘why’ torch to help your baddie see the light.

The best way to create a ‘why’ (or a motive) is to understand where it comes from. For example:

Maybe your villain wants a bigger pay off and this is how he thinks he will get it

He could be taking an order from someone more powerful

A more emotional reason might be that the hero appeals to his heart by saving someone the villain cares about

Or perhaps the villain just wants to right a wrong or past mistake]

-----

Ok, so Arcann has a little of the last 2 of those reasons. Now that he’s gone through the Force Healing dishwasher, he wants to try and make up for all the horrible things he did (Mostly the people he killed for shits and giggles while hunting down the Outlander. War is war, and he might not beat himself up over the people he personally killed on the battlefield. They made the choice to be soldiers/Jedi/Sith, and they knew they might die when they went up against him.)

He was also swayed by the Outlander letting him and Senya go, and how they cared for her while he was figuring things out.

-----

[Whatever the plot point for justifying your villain’s redemption, you can create added depth to their motive by linking it to an old wound in his past.]

-----

His mother left, and it’s possible that he still wonders what would have happened if he and his siblings had gone with her (I can’t remember if he touched on this in one of his cut-scenes during KOTFE). But more importantly, no one has ever come back for him except his brother. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t expect Vaylin to care about him enough to help him unless it benefits her, so after Thexan’s death he feels like he’s alone and nobody would miss him if he died. And that’s… really not a good place to be.

He doesn’t feel connected to his people since I doubt he ever saw much of them while growing up, so it’s easier to treat them like dirt if he can’t empathize with them. Also, the closest person to him, and the only one he seems to care about, is Vaylin, and she’s even more messed up than him so they just echo each other’s cruelty and drive each other to new heights of awfulness.

So that’s why it’s so important to him and game changing that his mom shows up after he’s been defeated.

Now the scene in KotFE goes like this: Senya finds Arcann dead (unconscious) and pinned under a bunch of debris. She drags him out and cries because she thinks he’s dead. Then Vaylin shows up, and while Senya is focused on her, Arcann blinks awake. Vaylin starts to attack, and Arcann stops her. Blah blah blah, Senya saves Arcann because he tried to protect her and she “feels the good in him”.

Ok.

(Keep in mind, my computer chugs much worse if I have the background music on, so I always play with it off. So scenes that maaaaay be relying too much on the music to carry the emotional weight, don’t have that crutch to lean on when I see them.)

Putting aside some dumb stuff, like why didn’t Senya sense that he was alive, and why didn’t she “sense the good in him” until after he pushed Vaylin away, here’s a few tweaks I might make:

Senya finds Arcann badly injured and pinned under debris. She realizes that he’s still breathing so she drags him out, sits down, and cradles him in her arms. She fully expects that he’s going to die, and her resolve crumbles. She rocks him gently and sings to him, her voice breaking here and there as the ship comes apart around them. She left her children once, and she refuses to leave Arcann again. She’s going to stay with him until he succumbs to his wounds, or the ship disintegrates.

To her surprise, he begins to wake. He turns his head into her chest, instinctively remembering her voice and the way she’d sing when comforting him and his brother after a painful day of training. He opens his eyes blearily with a mumbled “Mother?”. And now, finally, after years of being apart, she senses the conflict in him. Buried under years of pain and rage, is the tiny flicker of the boy she used to know.

The ship shudders underneath them and she makes her choice.

She hauls him up and throws his remaining arm over her shoulders. He can barely support his own weight and is fading in and out of consciousness as she drags him off the dais. They’re almost to the door when Vaylin appears and cuts them off.

Senya pleads with her, but Vaylin refuses to see reason and moves to kill her. Senya tries to throw Arcann out of the way, but the minute his arm is clear he manages to force push Vaylin away, where she appears to be crushed under falling debris.

Senya can’t save both of them, but she didn’t feel any conflict in Vaylin. So she chooses Arcann and takes him to the shuttle.

After they’re far enough away, Vaylin comes to in a rage, only to find that she’s missed her chance. She too, escapes in a patrol vessel.

-----

[Epiphany Redemption

Sometimes we don’t realize we have bad habits until someone tells us or we suddenly become aware of them. One of the most famous epiphany redemption examples is Scrooge going through an awakening. With the help of the Christmas ghosts, he’s shown the impact of his actions which causes him to see that he’s been leading a terrible life. The end of the story show him as a changed man, being kind and charitable to others.]

----

This sounds like what happened to Arcann.

It could be that with his mind clouded with pain and a likely concussion, he forgets his anger enough to think that, if his mother cared enough to save him and feels there’s still good in him, maybe there is.

It could be worked into the healing ritual, instead of this nebulous “light sapping the dark from him while he lays unconscious” thing. It could be that the ritual lifts all of his emotional baggage up so that he can view his past choices through a clear lens. Kind of A Christmas Carol speed-run, where his actions flash by in his mind and the horror of what he’d become slowly builds and replaces some of the rage. So the healing ritual doesn’t cure him of the darkness, so much as it’s a cold dose of the reality of his actions without the rage and bad justifications covering it up. The pain and rage is still there, and he’ll have to deal with it naturally later (get that boy a THERAPIST), but it no longer gets in the way of his decision making and he’s free to make better choices.

This explains why he was so panicked when he woke up that he didn’t notice his mother was still alive. And her “death” was just one more horrible thing he’s done. That even in healing, he still manages to kill the people close to him.

(It’s also why I always take the choice to tell him that Senya’s still alive right before he flies away, to spare him from that extra self hatred.)

-----

[It takes time. Just as a hero takes an entire novel to overcome her flaw, it will take some time for a villain to make this monumental change. Don’t let them flip-flop like a beached fish between good and evil – the change needs to build slowly throughout the book.]

----

I think this is the main issue that a lot of people seem to have with Arcann’s redemption. The healing ritual was such a hand-wavy “ok he’s better now” cop-out for what would normally be months or years of interesting character development.

I understand of course. This is a game, not a book series. There isn’t time to give Arcann the kind of focus that sort of development needs, and they weren’t allowed to weave his redemption too much into the story because not everyone spares him.

We can lessen the impact of this by ignoring some canon things and writing around others, but it would take a major rewrite of a large chunk of KotET to integrate this point.

-----

[Foreshadow, foreshadow, foreshadow. Readers don’t like to be cheated. You need to drop breadcrumbs throughout your story to let your reader know subconsciously that the villain is going to change, otherwise they’ll feel cheated. It doesn’t take much – the occasional soft glance from the villain, a nicely spoken sentence, and action that is ‘good’ rather than evil. Tiny clues.]

-----

There were tiny hints here and there, but not really enough for my taste and they were very easy to miss.

Some examples I can think of are:

He sort of yells at Vaylin at one point and without her saying anything, he immediately backs off, calms his voice down, and tells her that he’s not blaming her. She’s flippant about it, but it made it clear that he cares about her enough to treat her with respect and what little affection he’s capable of at that point.

@swtorpadawan made a good point in this post about how Arcann’s hesitation in destroying the Gravestone might’ve been because he sensed his mother’s presence.

And while I don’t think it was supposed to be hesitation on Arcann’s part, just the game forgetting about the time as we are shown Koth lining up the shot, he technically DID hesitate in killing the Outlander after he stabbed them (assuming you refused Valkorian’s power). There was a decent length of time where he had them, mortally wounded and defenseless, and he hesitated so long that Koth discovered the scene, figured out a plan, and shot out that big thing on the ceiling.

-----

[Don’t make it easy. It’s hard for the hero to overcome her flaw and likewise, it should be hard for a villain to overcome his. A quick way to make it harder for the villain to redeem himself is to catch him between two of his values. For example, while this character isn’t a villain, it still illustrates the point: Ned Stark in Game of Thrones values loyalty and wisdom – his wisdom tells him if he helps his King it will inevitably lead to his death, and yet, his loyalty forces him to help the King anyways.]

----

This one is closely tied to the “it takes time” point, and is also horribly ignored in the story. Once he’s healed he’s practically a different person. Now I don’t know if it’s because they didn’t devote much time to his writing since he’s an optional character, or if they meant to write him like this, but it’s still unfortunate.

He strikes me as determined and ruthless (like his mom). His interaction with Thexan and his commitment to the Outlander seems to imply that he’s loyal once he’s found someone worthy of it. He’s intelligent, but can be arrogant sometimes (of course this will have been knocked down a few pegs since the Outlander kicked his ass).

An easy point of conflict between his values (especially soon after he joins the Alliance), would be between his loyalty to the Outlander and his ruthlessness.

He could be on a mission with the Outlander, and have an enemy defeated but alive. The Outlander might want to spare them, while his ruthlessness demands their death. He knows how people like this work, that sparing them is a good way to get stabbed in the back, and if the Outlander is too softhearted to look out for themselves then he will.

BUT the Outlander is showing him trust by letting him accompany them, both trust that Arcann won’t kill them and that he will follow orders. Their trust is extremely precious to him (especially if he’s already crushing on the Outlander) so he really wants to do as they say.

He’s forced to balance their trust against his need to protect them.

------

[Don’t let them go soft. Villains are villains for a reason. Keep them authentic by retaining some of their sharper personality edges. Just because their actions are good doesn’t mean the whole of them will be.]

-----

I feel like this one is especially important, and also terribly overlooked.

Arcann learned some bad habits while being a villain and even when growing up, some of those should carry over into his healed self.

They might lessen with time and careful retraining, but he will always have sharp edges.

He will probably have a temper (although this must be handled very carefully to avoid making him look childish and abusive).

And if someone he cares about is threatened he may fly into a rage until they can calm him down. This rage may be followed by flashbacks of the battles he’s been through and the way the hatred felt in his gut, leaving him panicked and shaky once it’s over.

He probably has nightmares regularly, and care must be taken in waking him up to avoid a violent response, same thing with sneaking up on him: DON”T.

Honestly, the dude went through so much and did so many horrible things that I don’t see how he wouldn’t have PTSD. He certainly has self-hatred up to his eyeballs.

-------

One more thing:

Once he’s joined the Alliance, I think we need to be careful when writing him to make sure that his goal of trying to make up for the horrible things he’s done isn’t overlooked. I mean yeah, he’s helping by coming along on missions with the Commander, but that is super small time stuff compared to what he’s done and I don’t think he’d be satisfied with it for long.

He’s an intelligent man with experience commanding armies on the battlefield, and an extremely talented Force-user. At minimum, and when not accompanying the Outlander, he should spend most of his day immersed in Alliance reports giving tactical advice (once they trust him enough, of course) and helping with combat training in the Force Enclave. When they trust him more, he can maybe become the official liaison between the Alliance and Zakuul, using the resources and tech of his home world to help the reconstruction on the planets he bombarded and getting Zakuul what they need as well.

Of course, once the Republic/Empire war starts up again, his position will change and he may take on a more military role, commanding offensives on behalf of whichever side the Alliance has picked.

My point is, wallowing in emotional hurt/comfort and developing romance is really fun and satisfying, but don’t forget his promise to atone for his misdeeds.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Idle Hands Are an Angel’s Plaything by mattzerella_sticks

Three cases - man kills wife. woman steals from where she works. employee kills their boss. They shouldn't have anything in common. Except all three suspects claim they have no memory of committing the crimes they're charged with. Sounds exactly like a case for the Winchesters.

Three days investigating, however, and they're drawing blanks. Nothing adds up in any way that makes these crimes align into a neat box. Dean's ready to call it quits, but humors Sam and Cas by agreeing to interview a few more people. However he soon starts to believe this town has something pertaining to their expertise when he suddenly finds himself its next victim.

Will they manage to defeat the monster without Dean doing something he'll regret? Or will the only way to free himself is to let go of the chains he forced himself into long ago?

For the @supernaturaltropecelebration and their amazing Halloween Challenge!

Kevin grunts in his sleep, trying to wake up from the strangest nightmare. Blinking into consciousness he finds himself in a different position than when he fell asleep. Instead of his eyes adjusting to see his beige ceiling, he stares into the bloodshot stare of his wife Darla. His hands at her throat, grip slack.

“Darla?” he whispers, hands moving to her shoulders. Shaking, he asks again, “Darla?” More panicked, twitching fingers returned to check for his wife’s pulse. A sob crawls from his chest as he realizes nothing beats against his touch.

“No, Darla,” he whispers, rolling off her and collapsing back onto his side of the bed. “How did this happen…”

His hands stay frozen at his sides until he works through his shock and calls the police.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Impala pulls into the diner parking lot, fitting in between a rusted truck and a Prius. Dean sneers at the latter car as he gets out, “Fuckin’ douche mobiles…”

“Dean,” Sam sighs from the other side, “focus.”

“Why? We have jack shit anyway.”

“There’s got to be something tying these crimes together!”

“Yeah, humanity ,” he scoffs, leaning against his Baby’s hood, “Listen, I’m not sure if there's anything happening here that falls under ourjurisdiction, okay?”

Sam rolls his eyes, dialing up the softness in his features. Resembling more labradoodle than man, he asks, “Can we go over it all one last time?”

Dean tries to resist, but he succumbs to his brother’s masterful manipulation. “Fine. But let’s at least grab a booth before it gets too crowded, okay?”

Nodding, Sam moves away from the car and over to the diner. Dean turns to Castiel, the angel perched on the hood as well. A silent observer to their bickering. “You think there’s any foundation under the house Sam’s building?”

Head skewed to the side, Castiel squints at him. “While these events are muddled and pedestrian… you two have had less to go off of.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, tapping Baby’s roof twice, “we have.” He pushes himself off, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. “Come on, otherwise Sam’ll order us all salads.”

“I’d like some fries.”

“Well you can order your damned fries when we get inside.”

They walk together, barely an inch of space between them. Castiel’s arm brushes against his with each step, each time making the blush burning his neck to grow hotter. He could move away, but Dean chooses to stay on his path. Reasoning that Castiel should be the one to do so, finally learn about the personal space bubble he frequently bursts. Eleven years, countless battles, and all of pop culture downloaded into his mind in the span of a second and Dean still has to tell him how if he can feel his breath when he talks Castiel isn’t far enough away.

Sam arches an unimpressed brow when they enter, handing them their menus. “Took you long enough?”

“Bite me, Sammy.”

“I’d rather the food. Less calories.”

Dean exaggerates a frown, Sam copying him. Castiel elbows him in the side, glancing between the two. With a sigh he drops the argument, burying his head into the menu. Keeping silent when his brother and angel carry on the conversation. Only surfacing when the waitress swings by asking for their order.

As expected Sam orders a salad, while Dean opts for a BLT and Castiel asks for his fries. Once the waitress is out of earshot, Sam looks to him. “So,” he starts, “can we go over the case now ?”

Tamping down his comments, Dean nods wordlessly. He fiddles with one of the napkins, bending and crumpling the edges before smoothing them. The urge to tear them up spikes, but Dean ignores it. Not in the mood for one of Sam’s lectures about wasting napkins.

“Now the reason we came here over going home was because of the first incident, where a woman was arrested for murdering her co-worker. Although from how she told it to the press, it wasn’t her.”

“Except,” Dean cuts in, “while Cas and I interviewed her, you checked the footage and didn’t see her eyes flash.” What Sam saw, and related to them, was how Kristie twisted the oxygen valve in the storage shed enough that its contents would hiss open. So when her boss, Mark, went for a quick smoke break, the tossed match would ignite the canister and obliterate the shed, everything and every one in it.

“And from our conversation,” Castiel adds, “she didn’t seem too regretful of her co-worker’s death.”

Kristie confided that bad blood existed between her and Mark. That he offered to help her with her diving suit near constantly, made suggestive comments and harassed her often for a date. “I mean why should I be blamed?” Kristie asked, “He was the idiot who kept smoking near oxygen tanks even when Larry told him again and again to find somewhere else to take his breaks! All I was doing was counting our inventory… sometimes I’m just on autopilot, y’know, it’s so boring… anyone could have made that mistake!”

“But then there were the others,” Sam continues, swiping around on his tablet. He shows the articles he pulled. “Banker who transferred over a hundred thousand into her own account and the man who strangled his wife in their bed.”

“Doesn’t mean there’s a shifter though.”

“Three instances where people claim they have no memory of committing a crime?” Sam scoffs, “Might not be a shifter but it’s something .”

“What else could it be, Sam?” Dean rolls his eyes, “Cursed object? All three of the perps didn’t mention buying or finding anything strange, and I doubt one of those could travel so far in a few days. Especially since none of them travelled in the same circles. Witches? There’s no pattern - usually it’s either murder or theft, they don’t do both!”

“So maybe we need to work harder,” Sam growls, slapping Dean’s hands, “and quit it! I thought I told you how much I hate when you do that.”

Dean frowns, following Sam’s gaze to see the sprinkling of napkin shreds all around him. He drops the rest of it, whipping wide eyes up at his brother. “Sorry,” he says, “must have lost focus or something…”

Sam sucks in a sharp breath, judging him silently through his pointed expression. Feeling guilty, Dean ducks his hands under the table.

“As I was saying,” Sam says, “There’s probably something we’re missing… or we’re not considering. Usually we’ve at least spoken to a witness or a family friend at this point, but with how every day there seems to be a new crime we hadn’t had the chance to.”

Dean snorts, “They should really change their town motto. Most exciting hamlet on the bay…”

“I agree with Sam,” Castiel says, “we’ve learned nothing from simply combing through crime scenes or questioning the suspects.”

“At least we’re all on the same page about that,” Dean hums, eyeing the waitress as she sways closer with their food. “Case talk over with, now’s time to eat!”

The waitress arrives as Sam readies an objection. Unable to raise a protest, Sam swallows back his words to make room for his salad. She hands each boy their order, taking extra care when giving Castiel his. “Now would you like anything else?” she asks them, eyes trained on his angel.

Castiel smiles at her. “No thank you, we’re good.”

“Are you sure?”

A tornado whips up in his stomach, upending the trailers of his emotions settled there. His jaw tenses, fingers flexing as he watches her flick her ponytail to the side. A voice whispers for him to trail fingers through Castiel’s hair and repeat what his angel said, to glare at her until she walks away.

He doesn’t do any of that; instead hissing a breath out his nose and digging into his sandwich.

She leaves soon enough, with a promise to return at a moment’s notice. Dean sulks into his burger, cheeks puffed up as he eats.

The others at the table discuss their plan while they eat, every few beats looking to Dean for his input. With his mouth almost always stuffed Dean didn’t talk. Each time Sam found him with gnashing teeth and crumbled foodstuff his lips curled ever downwards. Castiel seemed confused at Dean’s sudden mood shift, unknowing to what caused him to withdraw.

Unfortunately the sandwich, as large as it was, couldn’t last forever. And his voracious appetite meant he finishes far faster than everyone else. Sam still has half his leaves on his plate, speaking more than he ate, while Castiel picked at his fries.

Now without any sort of shield, his brother expects him to participate. Dean nods and answers when needed, but completely checks out of the conversation.

It’s not like him to do so on a hunt. However it’s their third straight one after a salt n’ burn and a harrowing ghoul hunt. Where Dean was almost intimately familiar with what a spike tasted like, if Castiel hadn’t burst in at the eleventh hour. White shirt sticky with sweat and stained with dirt, hair damp against his forehead. Apparently the ghoul tricked his angel, smothering him under six feet of dirt at a play to take him off the field.

“I dug myself free and came straight here,” Castiel explained as he untied Dean, “I couldn’t waste a second, especially on something as mundane as appearances.”

At least, that’s what Dean thought he said. His mind was too focused on the image of Castiel kneeling in front of him, chest heaving and glistening, fingers dancing around the rope. He only started paying attention when Sam rushed in, gun aimed at thin air.

“Nice of you to show up,” Dean barked, shoving the rope off of him and stepping away from Castiel with a blush, “What were you doing? Thinking about what you could turn my room into when you became an only child?”

Neither Sam nor Castiel laughed. Which made for a very awkward ride back to the motel. The atmosphere so stifling between them Dean escaped to the bathroom. Washing away the ghoul stink and rubbing one to the earlier scene. Imagining if Sam hadn’t burst in.

As good as it felt he regrets it only because it gave the others space to find another hunt and overrule his whining.

“Dean?”

He surfaces from his memories and into the present, blinking at Castiel. “Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

Dean studies the furrowed brow on his angel’s face. Mirroring the expression, he asks, “Why shouldn’t it be?”

Castiel’s frown deepens, and his head skews to the side again. “Because your hand has been on my knee for quite some time.”

Blanching, Dean whips his gaze to where Castiel claimed his hand rested. Like he said, it lays on Castiel’s knee in a picture of innocent affection. He flicks his eyes up to Castiel, and then to Sam. His brother watches with amused interest.

“Of course my hand’s there,” Dean says, thinking quick, “I - uh… I’ve been trying to get you to scoot over so I can go to the bathroom.”

Face smoothing immediately, Castiel sighs. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Because,” he jerks a thumb at Sam, “didn’t want to interrupt this one while he was on a roll.” With Sam’s bitchface in the background Castiel moves so Dean can stand. He winks with fake mirth, “Won’t be long.” Then Dean speeds away to the bathroom, hands buried in his pockets and face stoic.

The diner’s bathrooms are single occupants, and Dean finds both the men’s and gender neutral bathroom locked. Sighing, he sags against a nearby wall and plays with his phone. Trying not to focus on the feel of Castiel’s knee in his hand.

Why it was there Dean couldn’t answer, nor did he need an answer. Otherwise Dean will have to confront a host of problems he isn’t in the mood to face. Not wanting to think about it any longer, he chalks it up to exhaustion. Dean then distracts himself by pulling up a game, hoping with each row of Tetris he clears he can believe his excuse.

While deciding where to shove a T-piece, Dean overhears a nearby conversation.

“Can you believe how sad Tony sounds in this caption?”

“I know, but can you blame him? Broken up like that…”

Dean pauses his game, interest piqued. Shuffling to the side, he spies their waitress conversing with another girl at the last booth. Taking a break from working, she chats with her friend with no fear of being found by her boss.

“Who would’ve guessed Felicia was faking it all this time…” her friend says, taking her phone back. “Like did you hear from Jessica?”

“No, why? What does she know?”

“From what she told me - and this is from what Bea told her - that they were having this sleepover. Bea woke up to Felicia spooning her, and her hands were… y’know .”

“ No! ”

“Which, you’d think Bea would’ve woken up screaming!”

“I know I would’ve,” their waitress says, “y’know Creepy Josh tried something like that with me during a party the other night? Lucky I wasn’t too wasted to stab my key into his hand.”

“So that’s why he wore that bandage throughout the show,” her friend says, “I thought it was a character choice.”

“No, that dildo has no character.”

“Anyway, Bea was super into Felicia’s touch. Has had the hots for her for awhile, apparently. Her own best friend .”

“And Felicia felt the same?”

“Apparently…” her friend glances behind, Dean watching as she extends her neck as far as it can go. Whipping around, she smirks, “Speaking of hands and feeling up … who are those two snacks in your section.”

Dean tracks where she looks, shuddering as logic points to only one table - his . “I know,” their waitress gushes, “you don’t see faces like those in this crummy town.”

Her friend nods. “When I walked in I nearly dropped to the floor at the sight of the guy with the long hair.”

“Sure he’s nice,” their waitress says, “but did you not see the daddy in the trench coat?”

“Really? A trench coat?”

“What! He makes it work,” she defends Castiel’s fashion, “Besides, he has this air about him like… he could take real good care of me…”

Rolling her eyes, her friend grabs for her soda. “I doubt he’s gonna be the sugar daddy of your dreams, Monica.”

Monica sighs. “A girl can dream can’t she…”

Dean glares at her from his hiding spot. A girl cannot dream, he thinks, especially if that’s what her dreams are about. His grip tightens on his phone, the plastic digging into his skin. The bathroom door opens and startles him from his spiraling.

Faced with an empty bathroom, Dean remembers what he came to do. He shakes off the annoyance and hurries into it, going through the motions as he calms his racing heart. Stands in front of the mirror as he repeats to himself, “It’s stupid… don’t let it bother you.”

The voice from earlier returns, whispering again. “It’s not stupid… allow yourself to feel…”

His hands squeeze the porcelain sink as Dean wonders why his inner voice decided to take on a grating southern twang.

“Dean?” Castiel knocks on the door, “Dean? Are you in here?”

Broken from the spell, he turns to the door. He opens it, his angel on the other side. “Yeah?”

“You were gone for a long time,” Castiel says, “Sam’s paying… we’re heading out.” Castiel’s hand twitches at his side, reaching out to him. “Are you okay -?”

“Peachy, Cas,” he says, stepping around the concerned touch, “Police station coffee just hitting s’all… let’s hurry and clear this mess up so we’re not stuck here another night.”

Castiel nods, guiding Dean from the bathrooms and towards the exit where Sam waits. On their way there they pass Monica, cleaning their table. She leers at Castiel, obviously raking her gaze over him.

Impulsively Dean presses his hand against Castiel’s lower back and pushes him forward. “Pick up the pace,” he says loudly, “can’t keep Sam waiting, angel.” Ignoring Castiel’s look of confusion, Dean focuses instead on the bewildered expression Monica creates. Holds his head up a little higher.

“Isn’t that… better…”

“Isn’t what better, Cas?”

“I… I didn’t say anything, Dean,” his mouth thins worryingly, “are you sure you’re okay?”

Unconvincingly Dean mutters, “Like I said, Cas… damned peachy .”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean loses his footing almost immediately after climbing onto the fishing boat. He stumbles forward, nearly falling on his face. If it weren’t for Castiel’s firm hold on his arm he would have known what poopdeck tastes like.

“Rough waters today,” Jim, the captain, tells them, “if you ain’t got your sea legs than you won’t stand much of a chance, son…”

“I’ll manage…” Dean huffs, flattening his suit jacket with nervous hands. He glances at Castiel, pouting at how unruffled he seems by the waves. “How are you not affected?”

Castiel smirks, “Angel grace is a good substitute for ‘ sea legs ’.”

“Whatever,” he says, “you can let go now.”

The fingers around his bicep tighten, a rush of pleasure shooting up his spine. “I think it would be best if I help steady you.”

Blushing, Dean snaps his mouth shut with a click. He looks to the waiting captain, pinched dimples on full display. “So, about your crew member, Kevin Johannsen?”

“Johannsen was a real good fisherman,” Jim starts, leading them towards a pile of nets. Jim picks one up and begins folding as he talks. “Had this uncanny ability to guess wherever the most fish were in an open sea. One day he pointed to a patch and said ‘cast there’ and we nearly capsized from the amount of fish we hauled in! It’s a real shame to hear what happened…”

“Yes, well, that’s why we’re here,” Dean says, “We just wanted to see if Kevin had been acting strange in the last couple of days.”

“Strange?” Jim asks, “What do you mean strange?”

“Exhibiting unusual behavior,” Castiel clarifies, stepping closer. “Doing or saying anything that might have seemed out of the ordinary… maybe he found something while fishing that he kept for himself?”

“No,” Jim answers, “no, can’t say that he has. Any garbage we dredge up gets tossed back into the sea where we found it… and as for Kevin himself he was as normal as he always was. Cursing out the Patriots, drinking the same amount of beers he always did, telling the same jokes …”

Dean arches a brow, the word like a dangling string he felt drawn to pull. “Jokes? Kevin was a regular comedian?”

“Well, he weren’t a Jerry Seinfeld or a Sam Kinison, but he knew how to make us all chuckle every now and then,” Jim says, turning to his crew, “isn’t that right boys?”

There’s muddled agreement. One man, made burlier by his fleece-lined denim jacket, gives them more information. “Kevin liked repeating what he saw on TV, stole a joke or two from Family Guy. Liked doing that Borat thing…”

“Borat thing?” Castiel asks.

Dean rolls his eyes, “It’s this actor… ‘My wife’?”

“Yeah,” the man says, “he liked that one a lot.”

“Although,” another crewman speaks up, “he sounded more and more like the Honeymooners in the past few months.”

Dean latches onto that, hackles raised. He explores it further, hoping the dark rock sinking in his gut was right. “Kevin having problems at home?”

“Not anymore than the average guy,” Jim shrugs, “Complained about Darla more than ever, though…”

“How so?”

The burly man explains how Kevin found his marriage growing stale, and had taken to flirting with one of the girls who sold their fish. “Kept saying how he wished he didn’t marry Darla right out of high school, had more time to sow his seeds,” he tells them, “That if he could he would get rid of Darla and immediately go after Michelle. Pretended to call up hitmen or asked questions about how fast a person could sink to the bottom of the ocean…”

“And,” Dean rubs at his forehead, pressing against the growing headache, “you were all surprised to hear that this guy murdered his wife?”

Jim scowls. “He wasn’t like any of those disturbed people you see on the news. Kevin was normal, like one of us. It was just jokes between boys.”

“Jokes that led to a woman’s death,” Castiel growls, barely containing the venomous glow dripping from his glare.

“Hey!” Jim objects, “We didn’t tell Kevin to do what he did -”

“No, but you allowed him an open forum to discuss it,” Castiel says, “treated his very obvious threats as silly make believe. In what way could joking about murder be acceptable in any work space? You should have fired him and, at the very least, alerted Darla to what her husband was saying.”

“Why would we have done that?” Jim asks, “We all thought it would blow over. He wasn’t the first man to wish he wasn’t married, we’ve all been in that position once or twice.”

“Yet Kevin was the only one who took extreme measures,” he challenges, “If I were you I would think long and hard about the learned behaviors of how women are treated, especially how easily violence towards them is overlooked.”

Each member of the crew wore a mixture of shame and anger, all directed at Castiel.

Sensing the turn of the interview, Dean lays a hand against Castiel’s chest and pushes him backwards. “I think this is where we’ll take our leave,” he chuckles, “thanks for your time.”

Ignoring his angel’s protests Dean hurries them off the boat, waiting until they’re far enough away on the docks to talk.

“I can’t believe those men,” Castiel huffs, “treating those threats as something harmless like a joke -”

“Hate to break it to you Cas,” Dean says, “but that’s all men.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to accept it. Why did you make us run away like that?”

“Because as much as I hate what they said,” he sighs, “I know when to pick my battles.”

“No you don’t.”

“Fine, I know how to pick your battles.”

“They wouldn’t have been able to hurt me,” Castiel tells him, “But I could have taught them a lesson or two…”

The hand still glued to his arm clenches tighter, Dean wincing in pain. Underneath that, though, a current of heat stings his lower body. His dick stiffens and rises somewhat in his pants, adding to the already intense blush coloring his cheeks.

Noticing Dean’s pained expression Castiel cools his anger and releases him. “Sorry,” he says, “I… I forgot my hand was there.”

“S’okay, Cas,” Dean chuckles, “Next time take your frustrations out by writing your local representative…”

“Do we have one? I thought since we don’t vote…”

“...Never mind, Cas. Let’s just go call Sammy and tell him it was a bust.”

They shuffle over to the Impala, at a distance uncommon to their friendship. Dean wants to reach over and calm his angel, express further how unsettled he was by the others’ callous remarks. Remind Castiel that even in all the whirling madness there are a few voices of sanity trying to help others listen to reason. Only some people prefer having their ears stuffed up, comfortable with the silence. And most don’t want to rock the boat and mess up what already works.

Like Dean. Because as much as he wants to hold his angel all he uses his hand for is to open Baby’s door, start the engine, and call his brother.

He picks up on the third ring. “I was just about to call you.”

“You find anything?”

“No,” Sam sighs, “I think you might be right about this one…”

Dean tempers his grin, only allowing a tiny fraction of it show. “What makes you think that?” he asks.

Sam explains what he managed to uncover while snooping around the bank. How Linda was on the fast track to unemployment, her boss showing him the letter of termination they planned. Her co-worker Sandy told Sam how Linda complained about having issues with money. “Apparently she was buried deep in debt after some serious online gambling,” he says, “So we have a motive.”

He reigns in the ‘I told you so’, instead saying, “Same here. Ol’ Kev talked pretty heavily about not wanting his wife around anymore…”

A surge of warmth rocks over him from the thought of wrapping up the case quickly. While it’s an odd feeling to have when discussing murder, making him sound so flippant, he doesn’t care. Picturing his bed in the Bunker gives him tingles, especially when his imagination adds the perfect cherry by placing Castiel atop of his covers.

In the fantasy Dean drops his bags and glides in, kneeling at his bedside. Gently caresses Castiel’s face, the feel of his stubbles so real under his fingertips. As if the welcome relief of a case closed hit him now, while they tie up their loose ends. His angel would then flutter his lashes and whisper.

“...Dean?”

He bites his lip, “In a second, Cas - I’m on the phone.” Adjusting himself in his seat, Dean focuses on the conversation with his brother. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“That I’ll meet you at the motel and we can hit the road as soon as you want -”

“ Dean !”

“ What ?”

He whips around to face Castiel, a hush heavying his tongue. Instead of firing the command Dean chokes on it while taking in the scene.

Castiel stares with wide eyes, Dean’s hand softly cupping his chin. Thumb brushing the cleft, visible beneath the stubble, and his fingers press against his firm jaw. His angel’s plush lips part slightly, as if too stunned to attempt another sound. Dean mimics him, as he cannot understand how his hand got there nor why he hasn’t pulled away.

Sam’s on the other end, asking for Dean again. Wondering what’s happening. A yell, louder than all the rest, cuts through the static playing in Dean’s mind. He jumps, hand flying from Castiel’s face like it burned.

“Seriously, Dean,” Sam huffs, “what the hell is going on over there?”

He wonders the same thing. Suddenly Dean remembers how his hand found itself onto Castiel’s knee in the diner, and the way he pressed it possessively against Castiel’s back. Then the suspects’ testimonies filter their way in as well, all boiling to the same point.

Dean rubs his hand across his forehead, dimples flashing at him from the rearview mirror. “Looks like the road’s gonna have to wait another day, Sam.”

“Dean? What do you mean?”

“Turns out this case is exactly in our wheelhouse.” He ends the call, promising to explain more when they meet at the motel. Signing off, Dean drops his phone onto his lap and tightens his grip on the wheel. Dean speaks to the windshield, not trusting himself to look at his angel. “You good?”

“I am fine,” Castiel starts, concern bleeding through his gruff voice, “But are you…?”

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Dean rushes out, neck hot.

“Funny. You sound exactly like everyone else we’ve come across.” He doesn’t need to see to know Castiel arches his brow while he talks, the sass translating perfectly.

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m not lying. I… it was like my hand had a mind of its own.”

“I believe you.”

“Because I wouldn’t do that,” his mouth won’t shut up, “unless you wanted me to, it’s kinda creepy and -”

“Dean,” Castiel cuts him off, hand laid across his thigh, “it’s okay.”

Throat dry, he roughly swallows against the heart that jumped up there. Faced with either addressing the problem or ignoring it, Dean relies on where he has the most experience. He shifts into drive and speeds away from the docks. Silent the entire ride to the motel.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam shifts his gaze between the two, expression wrinkled with suspicion. He glowers at them, hunched over on the chair. “Explain to me again why you changed your mind on this?”

Dean glances at Castiel briefly, his angel sitting next to him on the bed. “I just,” he starts, wringing his hands, “I think that we might have missed something important.”

“Which is…?”

He huffs, physically withdrawing from the conversation so he can think.

Even with how fast Dean drove, Sam beat them to the motel. Waiting for them with twisted brows. Hoping they could shed some light on the stilted and urgent ending to the earlier conversation. Unfortunately Dean could only give half-formed answers, bathed in vagueness. He relied on trust to get Sam to accept the bull he force-fed him.

Sam knocked away every spoon.

“Dean?”

“Dean seems to be suffering under the effects of possession.”

He glares at his angel, lips trembling. Castiel returns a softer gaze, smiling with his eyes. “All of those arrested admitted to not remembering what they did, yet each had motives for doing what was done,” Castiel says, “Either they were filmed committing these actions or had their fingerprints found at the scene of the crime… we believe it must be a ghost forcing people to act on impulses or desires they usually ignore. And Dean is the ghost’s next victim.”

“Really?” Sam says, turning to Dean, “Is that true?”

Dean’s head bobs side to side before sighing. “Yeah, discussed it in the car,” he lies.

“So you’re possessed?”

“Looks like it.”

“What’d the ghost make you do?”

“What?”

Sam crosses his arms, straightening to a more imposing level. “You’d have to have done something you wouldn’t have done. Acted on an impulse… what was it?”

Once more he skirts the truth with his brother. Grinning wide enough his teeth nearly jump out of his mouth, Dean says, “Saw something really sexy down by the docks and started rubbing my junk like no tomorrow… almost got caught for public indecency.”

It’s a gamble that works in his favor. Sam’s nose scrunches in disgust and he cries, “Gross, Dean. God!”

“Hey you wanted to know!”

“Ugh,” Sam stands, spinning on his heel, “Whatever. Go wash your hands, pervert. Then you’re gonna help me and Cas with research.”

Dean nods, pushing off the bed. He looks to Castiel and mouths a quick thanks. His angel winks in return, sending Dean off to the bathroom to wash his hands and will away the blush staining his cheeks.

When he comes back Sam won’t look him in the eye and Castiel moved further up the bed, scrolling through his phone. Dean digs around for his laptop and sits by his angel’s feet. Close enough to not raise Sam’s suspicions but far from any temptation his hands might succumb to.

A healthy dose of fear bubbles inside at the image of his hand creeping, without his knowledge, over to Castiel to play with his feet. He shudders and shifts so his legs dangle off the side, face turned even further away. It doesn’t stop him from being very aware of his hands. Jumping with each twitch and worrying whether it was him or the ghost that wanted him to click a link or scratch an itch.

He wasn’t much help in terms of research.

In the third hour of Dean staring more at his hands than his laptop, Sam cries from nearby, “I think I got something!”

Dean breathes a sigh of relief. “What is it?”

Sam beckons them closer, “So get this…” He waits until Dean and Castiel are hovering behind before continuing. “Apparently the town was the home base for this motivational speaker in the 80’s. Really weird guy by the name of Benjamin Moreley.”

“A motivational speaker?” Castiel asks, “What’s that?”

“They get paid through the nose to shout a few words and come up with catchphrases,” Dean tells him, “All in an effort to get people to ‘ change ’. It’s a real racket, especially these days.”

“And back then, too,” Sam says, “over the years Moreley’s messages became some kind of movement, real cult-like. Anyway… listen to this clip from one of his speeches and see if it strikes a nerve.”

Sam unmutes the video, starting it from a minute in. He hits play, allowing Moreley to live again. Benjamin walks across a makeshift stage, soaking up the applause. Dean uses those few seconds to scan and judge the conman. Takes in the ruddy face, sweating profusely under the heavy lights. A hankey with a rich, purple color held tight in his fist, matching his shirt. His suit was white and stained in certain areas. The crowd watching him didn’t find Moreley as pathetic as Dean does, fawning over him loudly.

“Because it is when we take hold of what we want,” Moreley says, southern twang grating but unfortunately familiar, “fight against all the brainwashing society has forced upon us, to fit into their perfect little boxes, that we can truly be happy. The Id is our most basic part of ourselves - fundamental to our needs and desires. Why should we ignore it when doing so makes us miserable. We should be waking up every day with a goal of making each day better for yourself than the last. Looking at every opportunity, asking ourselves ‘does this make me happy’? And if it does, great… go for it. If the answer’s ‘no’... then don’t do it! Somebody else will!”

“Wow,” Dean snorts, “guy sounds like a grade-A douche…”

The laptop snaps shut without warning, Dean’s hand flat against it.

“Dean, what the -?” “I didn’t do that,” Dean says, “I didn’t mean to…”

Castiel huffs, “I guess this answers our question.”

Dean draws his hand to his chest, rubbing it. He frowns, “How’d the bastard die?”

“In all his speeches about giving into your impulses,” Sam says, “he forgot to mention the consequences. He was sued by a few followers for the expected - lost jobs and spouses leaving. Moreley’s defense was that they were happy in the moment, and that’s all that mattered. Halfway through the trial, though, his wife burst in with a gun and shot him while he was testifying.”

He whistles, “Damn…”

“Apparently Moreley was giving into his own temptations,” Sam shrugs, “sleeping with a few of his followers. When his wife found out she decided to lean into his teachings. Took her revenge then swiftly shot herself, too. It was all detailed in this comprehensive article they wrote following the case, even had copies of the wife’s suicide note.”

“If Benjamin Moreley’s ghost is haunting people,” Castiel asks, “where is his body buried?”

“Close by.” Sam re-opens his laptop, scrolling towards the end of the article. “In this huge mausoleum at the center of the Joseph M. Whorly Cemetery. It’s an hour outside of town.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Dean asks, “Let’s get a move on!”

“Dean…”

He bites his lip at his brother’s tone, not caring for it one bit. “Sam,” Dean sighs, “come on -”

“You shouldn’t be going,” Sam rushes, “if you’re possessed then you’re a liability.”

“I’m not gonna let a damned ghost stop me from doing my job!”

“We all saw what happened, Dean!” Sam drags a hand across his face, wiping away the aggravation. “Listen, what if it were me who was possessed? Would you want me coming along on this hunt, doing whatever the ghost is doing to you?”

His mind runs away with the prompt, painting a scene that makes Dean’s blood boil. Sam’s hands on Castiel’s knee, caressing Castiel’s face. Fingers that weren’t his carding through his angel’s hair or tiptoeing down his chest. Finally catching up to his thoughts Dean sneaks a peek at his hand to find it drifting towards Castiel.

Dean shoves it into his pocket, face hot with embarrassment. “I’d want you far away,” he mutters, “so, so far away.”

Sam arches a brow, worried by this display. Dean prepares for his brother to ask another question, saved only by Castiel clearing his throat.

“As much as I agree not having Dean on this hunt,” he starts, “what if the ghost hurts Dean in our absence. Who knows how much his power has grown since the first attack, he could seriously hurt himself.”

“Yeah,” Dean nods, “what do we do about that?” Dean isn’t worried the ghost will hurt him, confident in his own control against the wannabe Manson. But he doesn’t want to sit on the bench for the rest of the case.

Sam thinks for a moment, grin unfurling when he finds an idea. Dean’s skin crawls at the gleam lighting up his brother’s eyes.

“I think I have the perfect solution…”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Stupid motivational speaker ghost,” Dean mumbles, knocking his head against the motel divider for the umpteenth time, “why’d you have to latch onto me? Wasn’t there some other unlucky sucker you could’ve found?” His arms sag overhead, wrists pulling against the silver cuffs as far as they can give.

Sam’s solution was simple and made the most sense. Dean still complained the entire time.

“Listen if this all works as planned, we'll be freeing you in no time,” Sam said. After testing the cuffs above Dean’s head, making sure they wouldn’t break the divider, he hid the key. Ignorant to Dean’s protests all the while.

“You better hope so,” Dean huffed, “If this isn’t the right ghost then I think the next impulse I’ll have is shaving your head while you sleep!”

Sam hitched the bag over his shoulder, looking to Castiel. “Ready to go?”

Castiel, who stood at the wayside watching Dean’s imprisonment, finally tore his gaze away from Dean. “Yes.” They left without glancing behind, especially when Dean whined about how his nose itched.

A quarter of an hour later, Dean only had himself for company and his nose continued to irritate him. He shifts, ass numb from the awkward angle he was stuck in. “Couldn’t they have left me with a pillow to sit on or something…?”

Suddenly the sound of the doorknob turning cuts across the room. Dean whirls around to face it, confused as to who it could be. Sam and Castiel should still be driving to the cemetery. If it was housekeeping, which Dean hoped weren’t the case, then Dean better have a good excuse to use.

Luckily Castiel is on the other side of it.

Dean relaxes slightly. “Cas,” he says, “What’re you doing here?”

“Well, Sam and I were a couple of blocks away from the motel when I realized this wouldn’t be the most preventative measure,” Castiel explains, shutting the door behind him, “The ghost could use its strength to break the chain, or worse, your bones in such a way to slip your hands free and hurt you. So I suggested one of us staying here, with you, while the other goes to the cemetery. Since it’s a mausoleum we won’t need to dig… Sam agreed.”

“And he let you take babysitting point?”

Castiel shrugged, smiling. “If the ghost does have abnormal strength, then at least I will be able to match it.” He carries a nearby chair over to face Dean, sitting on it. “As we all know, I’m very powerful in my own right.”

The wink sets off a chain reaction. Reminds Dean of the earlier display on the docks, and the effect it caused within him. His dick stiffens again as he pictures Castiel pinning his wrists in one hand and using the other to squeeze his crotch. Dean’s hands spasm against their chain, twitching for freedom and Castiel.

Things became much more complicated than they were when Dean was alone.

Dean lapses into silence, trying to regain control over his hands. The longer Castiel stares at him, unblinking, the less his hands listen to him. Castiel’s presence produces a hypnotic orbit, where every time Dean thinks he’s free his eyes get sucked in again.

Suddenly Castiel leans forward, elbows perched on his knees. “Y’know, I rather prefer you like this.”

He wets his lips, voice raspy. “Like what?” Dean asks.

“Cuffed,” he says, foot tapping rhythmically, “can’t run away… can’t distract… cannot hide, like you usually do whenever a situation becomes too… intimate .” His hands slowly slide down his thighs and rest on his knees, Dean tracking the movement. “If I wanted to I could ask you a question - any question - and you’d have to answer it, wouldn’t you?”

Dean neither confirms nor denies.

“You are patient, though. Could probably wait out the awkwardness until Sam returns…” Castiel chuckles, “Funny, how of the three of us only youwere possessed. Like the ghost knew you had these... hidden desires. Do you have them, Dean? Would you like to touch me?”

He spasms, weak enough that a groan eaks past his lips.

Castiel grins, gaze darkening. “Your hand on my knee… on my back… my chest… as brief as they were, they all felt rather… nice .”

Startled, Dean’s jaw drops at the admission.

His angel carries on, straightening against the chair. “I could’ve asked you to keep them there, told you it was okay. Except you wouldn’t have responded well at all. You’d panic and then make a joke, act as if your affectionate gestures were anything but - especially in front of Sam. Keep up appearances… you can’t do that now, can you? The ghost has removed all pretense - for your hands at least. Your mouth, however, can still deny. But do you want to? Is it worth denying any longer?”

Dean struggles to laugh away Castiel’s suggestion. Except with the intensity of his angel’s stare and the heavy words he spoke, Dean finds little will to carry on the charade. Unburdening himself from his doubts and fears, he shrugs, “I guess it isn’t. It’s… tiring.”

“Would you like to touch me?”

“... Absolutely .”

He attempts to reach for him, only can’t get far with the cuffs still on. Castiel sighs, clucking his tongue at Dean.

“You can’t do that right now, unfortunately,” he says, stretching his leg until his foot is pressed against Dean’s crotch, “But there are other… pointsof contact .” Castiel steps down on Dean’s crotch, lightning flashing behind his eyes as Dean’s legs spasm. The rattling of the chains against the divider gets drowned out by heavy breathing.

Dean bucks against Castiel’s foot. “More!”

“In due time,” Castiel tells him, dragging his foot away, “We’ve been through so much, though… so many years of pining behind closed doors… why should we blow it all in fifteen minutes?” He drops to the floor on his knees, kicking the chair away. Crawling until barely an inch of space exists between their faces.

Castiel’s breath ghosts against his lips. Dean tips his head to capture them, only for Castiel’s thumb to dig into his chin. “No,” he whispers, “not yet. Only when I say so, understand?” When Dean doesn’t respond Castiel pinches a nipple. “Understand?”

“Yes!” he yelps, blood rushing to his dick.

“Good.”

Pulling away from his face and chest, Castiel rests on his haunches as his hands trace the seams of his jeans. “This must not be comfortable for you, can it?” he asks, smirking, “I can take it off if you desire?”

Dean nods, not trusting his voice. Except Castiel pinches him again, on his thigh. “Please,” he pants, “Please, Cas.”

“It is no problem…” He unties his boots, pulling them off to spend more time removing his socks. Peeling each one off slowly, scraping his blunt nail up the soles of his feet as the black fabric comes off. Once more his legs jump and dance uncontrollably. “Ticklish,” Castiel notes, “I’ll remember that…” Moving on Castiel drifts up to the belt, playing with the buckle. He unbuckles and re-buckles the accessory so many times Dean feels lightheaded from the bloodloss. Satisfied, finally, Castiel whips the belt off and snaps it. “Later,” he promises, setting it off to the side.

His fingers deftly unbutton his jeans, tugging them and his boxers away until Castiel exposes his ass and legs to the motel carpeting. Folding his jeans allows Dean the chance to gasp in as much air as he can before Castiel shoves him under again. He glances at his bare legs and exposed crotch, notices how his heavy dick rests in the middle of his bramble-like pubes. With only his shirt on Dean resembles Winnie the Pooh, and his knees scoot closer as if to shield himself.

Castiel guides them to where they were, frowning. “Why are you trying to hide again, Dean?”

He bites his lip, blushing. “Cause I look -”

“Amazing.”

“What?”

Castiel places his hands on Dean’s thighs and splays his bowlegs while dipping close to Dean’s face again. “You look amazing,” he places a kiss to Dean’s chin, “gorgeous,” another to his cheek, “awe-inspiring, lovely,” two to his eyelids, “miraculous,” pecks his nose, “and sexy .” Finally Castiel embraces Dean’s lips, tongue immediately poking past them for a taste.

Dean’s wrists burn from how the cuffs cut into them, keeping him from tugging Castiel’s hair or squeezing his biceps. His angel enjoys Dean’s struggle, though, breaking the kiss to laugh.

“This isn’t your time to touch,” Castiel says, “When it is, I will let you know. Until then… allow me to explore .”

They must have different understandings of what the word ‘explore’ means. Because to Dean it feels like torture . Unable to participate, passively watch Castiel comb over every piece of his body. Moan while Castiel nibbles his ear and tugs at his hair. Vision dizzying while Castiel twists his nipples and laves at his navel. His cock, stiff like a frozen popsicle, leaks precum without being touched at all. Castiel circles it: scratching his thighs, squeezing his balls, and breathing on its tip. All Dean can do is jerk forward, except he never makes contact. His angel tips backwards every time.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, “good little hunters are patient .”

“Patient?”

“You can wait a little longer, can’t you?” Castiel asks, brow arched devilishly, “Especially since I’m making this so good for you.”

“Too good,” Dean whines, “Let me… please, let me…”

“Let you what, Dean?” he asks, “Like I said, you cannot touch -”

“N-no,” Dean interrupts, “Let me… let me…”

“I’m waiting.”

“ Come .”

Castiel considers the request, thumbs kneading the skin under his thighs. Hums a maddening melody that sends shivers racing up and down Dean’s spine. “You have had a rough day, haven’t you,” he says, “It's not easy giving up control… I guess you may come. But -” his left hand slips into Dean’s asscrack and presses against his hole, “Allow me to help you along.”

“Of course, Cas,” Dean sighs, fluttering around Castiel’s thumb, “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Please…”

“I didn’t think Dean Winchester would be the one to beg…”

“Only for you, angel,” Dean babbles, “I want to be the only one for you… so bad.”

“How bad?” Castiel asks, right hand squeezing his dick, “How long ?”

“Don’t know,” he answers, “One day I blinked and-and all I wanted to do was have you near me. Have you on me. You told me once that you built me from the ground up? Well I want you to tear me the fuck down - up - whatever . Crash through my walls like a fucking wrecking ball until there’s nothing but debris. And then build me again.”

“Are you always this demanding with your partners?”

Dean chuckles, “Only the ones who’ve kept me dangling at the edge for far too long.”

“Then stop talking,” Castiel commands, “and let me push you over.”

He dies there, bare assed and on the cusp of an orgasm. At least, that’s what it felt like. Because one second he was staring at a glowing Castiel and in a blink Dean floated over his own body. Saw how glazed over his eyes became, barely a ring of green around the overly black pupils, and the specks of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Compared the nakedness of his own body to how clothed Castiel still was. Lost in the immense pleasure, Dean barely noticed how Castiel hadn’t removed his layers. Yet with his entire being one delightful static he could take in the little details. Dean floats on a cloud of pure delight as Castiel pumps his dripping dick with abandon. Giggles while Castiel kisses against his chest, rucking up the sweaty shirt he wears.

Soon the static turns into a lightning storm, the cloud he rests on darkening. Dean is struck by a stray bolt, piercing his spirit and waking him from his spell. His body groans with the need for release. His wrists bleed from how they’ve rubbed the metal cuffs. Huffing, Dean begs his angel, “Can I… Oh please, please, please, Castiel, can I…?”

Castiel nods, “Of course.”

The divider snaps in two, Dean’s hands raking through Castiel’s hair. His fingertips twitch with newfound freedom. Overwhelmed by the different choices, Dean feels drunk. His nails scrape against Castiel’s scalp, down his neck and across his trench coat. He grips the jacket as the giddiness fades into his riptide-like orgasm.

Come shoots from his dick without warning, ripping a roar out from a primal part of Dean’s being.  His legs bounce and his vision dangerously fades for a moment. Dean shuts down, sagging onto Castiel’s shoulder. In the next beat his systems reboot, and he gasps for breath.

“Cas,” he breathes, “ Casssssss … CasCasCasCasCasCasCasCas-”

“I’m right here, Dean,” Castiel whispers, stroking his head, “You were so good… so good.”

Dean chuckles, chains rattling. “Don’t know ‘bout that,” he shrugs, “I touched you…”

“I said it was okay, didn’t I?”

He sighs. “This is all really okay with you?”

Castiel halts, the suddenness scaring Dean. Makes him fear he said something wrong, especially when his angel draws back and cups his hands in his face. “Dean,” Castiel says, “There are no words to describe how okay I am with all of this. I am post-verbal, completely. Nothing in English, Enochian, or any other language can come close to describing the fire that burns inside for you. I only…” He ducks his gaze, sheepish for the first time since he entered, “I only hope that whatever… this was… it wasn’t an ending, or a means to an end. It’s a beginning . Is that… what you want?”

Dean’s face hurts from how wide his grin stretches. “You kidding?” he laughs, “I’m not going anywhere . Chuck himself couldn’t write me out of your life, or vice versa. What we did now, it ain’t no ‘Once Upon a Time’... but I’ll be damned if we don’t get the ‘Happily Ever After’ we deserve.”

Their foreheads knock into each other so Dean can only see Castiel’s face. Studies the gentle blue waves of his eyes, peaceful enough to lull him to sleep. His blinks slow and lengthen, lids heavier each time.

Castiel huffs. “You’re tired.”

“No I’m not,” Dean yawns, straightening against the divider. “I can still go. I have to…” he glances at Castiel’s crotch, “it’d be selfish if you did all that and I konk out like some pillow princess.”

“I won’t mind, Dean,” he tells him, “Don’t feel obligated. Besides… we have the time.”

Dean startles, lips parting. “Yeah… yeah, I guess we do.”

“Lay down, Dean. Relax…” Castiel guides Dean’s head to the side, laying it on the jeans he folded earlier. Then his angel follows, wrapping his arm around Dean. Castiel’s chest blanketed his back, easing Dean into unconsciousness.

Before his eyes closed, Dean wrapped both his hands around Castiel’s, squeezing it. “I’m so happy…”

“As am I. Now rest… I’ll be here when you wake up…”

Dean sleeps the easiest he has in years.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wakes with the slam of the front door, a frightful breath rushing into his body. Dean jumps to a sitting position, staring wildly at his brother.

Sam gapes down at him, bag plopping beside him as his grip slackened considerably. Skin pale, his brother’s hazel eyes fade to grey as he processes the sight in front of him. Dean uses the time to take his still shackled hands and pulled his shirt over his junk. “Cas,” he hisses, “Cas, wake up!”

Castiel growls from behind him. “I’m not asleep, Dean.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Angels don’t sleep.”

“Oh, then you chose to let Sam walk in without warning me?”

His angel perks up, squinting an eye open to see the younger Winchester standing in front of the still open door like a zombie. Flying to his feet, Castiel stumbles over to the bed. “Sam?” he gasps, “What are - what are you doing back so soon?”

Watching Castiel panic sets Sam off. Realizing what he walked in on, he claps a hand over his eyes and spins on his heel. “This isn’t what I had in mind when I left you two alone!”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sorry, Sam, but how else were we supposed to pass the time?”

Sam splutters, shoulders tensing. “I can’t believe you two were here… while I had to salt ‘n’ burn all by myself!”

“I apologize for the deception, Sam,” Castiel blushes, “if you had known exactly what impulses Moreley made Dean act on, then you would have seen how prudent it was that I stayed here.”

Curiosity piqued, Sam cranes his neck to the side and peeks in. He won’t look at Dean, still pantless. Instead he focuses on Castiel. “His impulses?”

Dean sighs. “Cas here was more magnetic than usual… my hands couldn’t stay away?”

Sam’s eyes rolled heavenward, the hand hovering nearby steeples at his temple. “Could you please put on pants if you’re going to be an idiot?”

“It’s kinda hard when you’re handcuffed…” Dean bites his lip, faltering somewhat. “This… you’re not upset, are you?”

“Kinda,” Sam admits, terrifying Dean, “I mean I was worrying the ghost was gonna make you hurt yourself when all it wanted was for you to fool around with your best friend? I could’ve left you two in the car if that were the case… at least I wouldn’t have been alone.”

Dean’s heart calms at the confession. Glancing over at Castiel, however, he sees his angel’s expression dim. Sensing what needs to be done, Dean clears his throat. “Actually,” he says, “we weren’t… fooling around.”

Sam turns to him, shocked. “What?”

“Me and Cas,” Dean continues, smiling, “it was more than that, Sam. Deeper and… shit. Like, you might see me holding his hand without needing some wackadoo ghost prompting me. So I’m asking again… you’re not upset, right?”

“Dean, I…” Sam offers him a smile, “no, I could never… I’m happy for you two.” He looks between them. “Happy, but also traumatized… I didn’t need to see your dick.”

Dean pulls his shirt further over his junk. “There were more important things than getting dressed… at the time.”

“If you give us a few minutes,” Castiel says, “we can have this place as clean as you left it -”

“Nope,” Sam cuts him off, groping around for his duffle, “you could bathe this entire place in a blacklight and there wouldn’t be a bright spot, I still won’t be able to sleep. I’m gonna see if there’s another room or… sleep in the Impala. You two can have this room.”

He almost leaves until Dean calls for him. “Where’d you put the handcuff key?”

“Bedside drawer!” Sam shuts the door behind him, Dean and Castiel alone again.

Dean stands, moving towards the drawer. Finding the key, he makes quick work of unlocking them. He chucks them to the wayside and rubs his ruined wrists.

Castiel glides over, gently bringing Dean’s wrists close. He lightly brushes his lips against the skin there, a rush of electricity crackling against it. The tiny wounds and cuts heal themselves, the red skin fading into its usual color.

“Nice.”

“So?” Castiel says, “How are you feeling? Are your hands your own again?”

Dean shrugs, laying his hands against Castiel’s shoulders. “Kinda hard to tell… I don’t have any other impulses I’m ignoring at the moment?”

Castiel raises a brow. “Really? None?”

“Okay… maybe one.”

“What is it?”

He shoves Castiel against the bed, scrambling on top of him. Legs spread wide to straddle his angel. “Yeah,” he whispers, “I chose to do that.”

Castiel chuckles, “Was that it?”

Dean kisses him, rolling his crotch so it rubbed against his angel’s tenting slacks. “Not even close… I’ve got a lot of pent-up frustration I need to work through.”

“Well we have the time, Dean.”

“We do, don’t we?” Dean sighs, “We finally do.” They kiss again, Dean’s hands sliding away from Castiel’s wrists to cup his jaw. The stubble scrapes delightfully against his palms, reminding Dean that as fantastical the chain of events were, it’s all real. He and Castiel actually came together and the world didn’t end.

Rather, it felt like his world was only beginning.

[alleiradayne]

Talk Dirty To Me

Summary: Jo and Dean celebrate twenty years together, but things go a little sideways when Jo unintentionally insults him. Rating: Explicit Square Filled: Breeding Tropes: Breeding and Dirty Talk Warnings/Tags: Lots of dirty talk, daddy kink, breeding kink, Dom!Dean, sub!Jo, oral, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, actual talk of having a baby, sweet fluffy ending. Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Jo Harvelle Word Count: 5,543 Author: @alleiradayne Artist: @mere-mortifer A/N: For @spnkinkbingo this fills the Breeding square, and for @supernaturaltropecelebration, this fills the tropes Breeding Kink and Dirty Talk kink. Song: Talk Dirty To Me by Poison

Rare were the moments Dean breathed easy. But tonight, he had. For the first time in decades, he had nothing to worry about.

As he dried the last of their dinner plates, Dean hummed along to the steady rock beat of Nothing but a Good Time as it played on the record player. Beside him, Jo bobbed her head and swayed her hips as she wiped down the sink and hummed with him. Together they had prepared a dinner fit for kings, and they had eaten like the royalty they had always said they were. Most hunters weren't so lucky to find a love like theirs. Even when they did, it rarely lasted, and for predictably unfortunate reasons.

But Dean and Jo? They'd cheated death, fate, God, destiny, the whole gamut more times than you could shake a stick at. No, the years had not been kind to them. And yet they'd made it through twenty of them together. So, on the eve of their anniversary, they had decided to celebrate.

They owed it to themselves. Not that they hated hunting. But back when Dean turned forty, talks of retirement had started. Jo had tried her damnedest to get him to hang it up a few years earlier, but it had taken another narrow miss on Sam's behalf—a wendigo had pinned him dead to rights if it hadn't been for Eileen’s quick thinking—for Dean to call it quitting time.

Hunters never truly retired. With Sam and Eileen only a few minutes into town, the four of them worked small cases nearby, run of the mill salt n' burns, the occasional werewolf. Nothing more than a few hours’ drive away. Angels, demons, and Chuck had, at long last, decided it was high time they stop fucking with the Winchesters and their family. With four averted apocalypses, the near extinction of angels, and an empty throne in Hell blocked by Sam, those cosmic beings finally figured out it was time to give it a god damn rest once and for all.

The bright clinking of crystal snatched Dean's attention as he finished drying the last plate. Over his shoulder he found Jo pouring out the end of a twenty-one-year scotch, plenty to keep them both warm and toasty on that chilly fall night. Jo hefted her glass, crystal on her pale pink lips, and Dean watched, mesmerized by the bob of her throat. She hadn't aged a day if he had anything to say about it. Still the brave, boundless soul he had met all those years ago, Jo Harvelle had wrapped him around her little finger the day they’d met. After she had punched him in the nose, that was.

“I'm a little sad,” she mused as she held her glass up to the light. The warm amber liquor flickered as she peered through the crystal. “Was a particularly good bottle of Dal.”

With the plate put away, Dean crossed the kitchen and took his glass from her. “We’ll find another,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her, hand resting at the small of her back. A sip from his glass extracted a pleased hum through his nose. “Damn, that is good. You sure know how to pick 'em.”

Jo grinned. “Comes with the territory. And you outdid yourself tonight. A cowboy that knows how to cook pheasant. Color me surprised.”

A swell of pride warmed his cheeks. Or maybe it was the whiskey. “I'll have to keep that recipe. You enjoyed it?”

“Enjoyed it?” she scoffed. “Was like eating candy,” she continued as she sat at the kitchen table.

A moment of silence lingered between them, and for once, it settled not with anxiety, but peace and serenity. Dean allowed himself the space to drift there a little longer, but when he regarded Jo, he found her smile had faded and the excited glow in her eye dimmed.

With sudden clarity, she met his gaze and said, “I got lucky with you, you know?”

Dean sat beside her around the corner of the table, his hand around hers as it cupped her glass. “How so?”

She thought a moment, big hazel eyes searching the room for the words. “You’re kind. Kindest man I’ve ever met. You've always been sweet to me no matter what.” Her smile contorted, sardonic. “I don't know what I ever did to deserve you.”

If she thought she was lucky then what did that make him? Any luckier and he’d get struck by lightning. “You were you,” Dean started as he took her hand in his. “Simple as that. You didn't have to do anything but be yourself, sweetheart.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, one by one.

“Stop,” she whined with her half-hearted protest and rosy cheeks. “I'm serious, Dean. You were so sweet to me. Even at nineteen, I’d met my fair share of men, and not a single one of them came close to treating me with any kind of the respect or dignity you did. Hell, even in bed, you were more courteous and caring than most people are in public. You still are!”

Courteous? Caring, sure, but courteous? “Am I really that boring to sleep with?”

She laughed her obnoxious cackle at that, with a hand to her stomach as she leaned back, and her shoulders shook. “Oh, honey, don't worry, you’re a damn good lay.”

His nose scrunched as he thought for a moment. “Damn good lay? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

Jo stood then and drained her glass before she spoke. “Gimme a break. You know you’re very respectful and courteous in bed. I don't think I've ever even heard you say anything remotely dirty during sex.”

Ever? Not once had he so much as mumbled a, “fuck me, Jo,” or, “ride my cock”? Impossible. There was no way.

Except the look in her eye said otherwise. Impulse gripped him in a thoughtless vice, and Dean snatched her wrist as she stepped towards the sink. Jo stumbled to a halt with an indignant squawk and glared at him. From his chair, he stared into her eyes without raising his head, his brow cocked and a subtle purse to his lips. When she remained still, Dean said, “I can change that.”

A beat of bated breath lingered between them, Dean holding her enraptured gaze. He leaned into her, inched closer as he coaxed her to him with a delicate pull of her wrist, and in that a moment, Dean thought he had convinced her. That was, until she broke, her barking laughter ringing through the entire house. A patronizing hand smoothed his hair as she kissed the top of his head and sighed.

When she attempted to pull from his grasp Dean held her firm. Jo struggled against his grip and her laughter ended abruptly. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Dean stood, rising to his feet with a slow and steady straightening of his back. His shoulders rolled as he jerked her flush to his chest, and Jo protested with a feeble repeat of her question. “Dean? What's going on?”

The idea of treating her with anything less than every ounce of his respect stayed his hand. But if all she asked for was some dirty talk, he could do that. At least, he wanted to. He wanted to give her whatever she wished. The longer he thought on it, the more he understood. And the more he understood, the harder his cock strained against his pants.

Before he pushed himself any further, Dean placed a tender kiss to her lips as he cupped her cheek. Tension oozed from her shoulders as she melted into him, her free hand smoothing over his arm as she set her glass on the table. With great care, he timed his move and grabbed her hand, then spun her back to him. Her protest clipped short when he pinned her hips to the edge of the table, his entire body flush to hers and bearing over her shoulder. With his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

Jo bucked her hips into his groin a she hummed her approval through her nose, but Dean held her hard and fast against the table. Damn her and her writhing body. In new territory, he wanted to take his time, but he worried he might not get the chance. But if she wanted him in that way, then it would have to be under his conditions, his control.

“You'll do as I say?” he asked.

Another lewd sigh fell from her parted lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shudder that rolled along his spine weakened his knees. If she joined in on the dirty talk, their foray might not last very long. “Then only I get to talk,” he whispered into her ear. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she mewled.

Dean grunted under the strain of control, far too eager to feel her wrapped around him again. Deep breaths steadied his hands as he reached beneath her arms and unbuttoned her jeans. “I want to fuck you, sweetheart. I want to fuck you and come inside you.”

Another shudder rolled through her body and echoed in his as she moaned a long high cry. God, but her voice alone was enough to unravel him to bare threads. In a fit of frustration, he grasped the hem of her shirt and tore it over her head. Long blonde waves cascaded down her back and Dean buried his face in the crook of her neck as he grasped her breasts. Between the nips and licks and kisses, Dean spoke through his labored breaths. “Fuck, sweetheart, I love your tits.”

Her restrained whimper caught in her throat, more of a grunt than a sigh. That she struggled against her instinctive reactions aroused Dean further, a blurry haze clouding his thoughts. He wanted proof of what his words had done to her, and so, he slipped his hand down her stomach towards her pants. Palpable tension heaved her chest as he smoothed her skin with the flat of his hand until it slipped beneath the fabric and Dean found what he so desperately sought.

“So wet for me already. You really do enjoy this,” he continued as his fingers slipped inside her. “God, I can't wait to fuck you,” he started, “Can't wait to pound your pretty little cunt with my cock until I come inside you and put a baby in your belly.”

If Dean hadn’t felt it, he wouldn't have believed it, but Jo's entire body convulsed, and her pussy clenched around his fingers. Nonsense fell from her lips as she attempted to remain quiet like he had demanded. At least she couldn’t string more than three words together otherwise he might have come in his pants. “Good girl,” Dean whispered in her ear. “I like it when you follow orders. But I like it when you beg me for it, too,” he teased as his fingers pumped her flesh.

“Oh, fuck, Dean, I’m so close, please,” she cried. “I’m gonna come, please, harder, keep going!”

Christ, was that all it took? A couple fingers and a few salacious words? What exactly had he said that had shoved her so violently into delirium? He wrapped his arms tighter around her as he rolled the hard shaft of his cock against her ass through their clothes, determined to find out. “Do you like it when I tell you how much I want to fuck you?”

Jo merely nodded as she turned into his lips for a quick kiss. While pleasing, he had hoped for a different answer. “What about coming inside you? Do you like that? Do you like the idea of my cum pouring out of your pussy?”

Another depraved moan burst from her lips, but again, she said nothing of note. It occurred to him then that, after years of endless hunting and instability, something else he had said might be closer to the truth than he ever expected.

A grin widened his smile as he whispered in her ear. “You want a baby.”

As if the world had come to a screeching halt, Jo froze. Her entire body seized, completely still but for the hard thumping of her heart. “How did you know?”

Dean released her breast as he laughed a wicked laugh through his nose. “Because the idea of me knocking you up has you wetter than I've ever felt,” he stated a he withdrew his fingers from her sex. In the kitchen light, her arousal glistened on his middle and ring finger as strings of her fluid stretched between them. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Jo did as he said, lips parted and tongue reaching as he slipped his fingers into her mouth. Sealed, she sucked him clean, and Dean braced himself against her hips as he withdrew his fingers with a pathetic moan. Damn that woman and her sinful mouth. If he wasted anymore time toying with her, she’d ruin his shorts without even trying. And he couldn't have that. They were just getting started.

“So,” he started as he wrapped his arms around her once more, hands smoothing her stomach. “Do you want me to put a baby in your belly?”

“I just want you to fuck me, Dean,” she growled as she pried at her pants.

Dean snatched up her wrists, gathered in one hand and pinned them to the small of her back. “Oh, slow down, honey. We’ll get there,” he teased as his free hand slipped her jeans over her ass. “Lord knows I want to bury my cock in your sopping cunt right now and pound into you until I fill you with my seed. But where's the fun in that?” He nipped at the shell of her ear and Jo writhed as if to escape him. “Yeah, you love this, don't you? Never heard me talk to you like this, like you’re my little plaything to fuck and fill and breed whenever I want. You’re my mare and I'm your stallion.”

All manner of divine whimpers and moans sounded on her breathless lips at his words. But the end was in sight. He wished to string her out longer—maybe she would come if he kept talking that way—but if he kept at it, he'd never make good on any of his promises. So Dean slipped his fingers into the hip of her underwear and tugged them to her ankles where Jo flung them aside with a swift flick of her ankle.

“I'm gonna let you go, sweetheart,” he whispered, “and I want you to stay right where you are. Do you understand?”

Jo nodded with a vigorous shake of her head as she leaned against the kitchen table. Dean, however, was unsatisfied with that response. “Say it. Tell me you understand.”

Ever the seductress, Jo shot him a coy smirk over her shoulder. “I understand, Daddy. I won't move an inch,” she said in her best simpering tone.

“Good girl,” Dean groaned through gritted teeth as he released her hands. A step back separated them and he stripped himself of shirt and pants. Jo continued to watch over her shoulder, and when he stood in only his briefs, she spoke.

“I could help with those.”

A sharp slap rang through kitchen as Dean's hand connected with her bare ass, and Jo shrieked in shock. “You'll do as I say,” he stated as he returned to her, the bulge of his cock nestled between her cheeks. “I'll fuck you when I'm good and ready,” he continued as he dragged a finger between her sopping lips. “God damn, I love how wet you are. Spread those legs for me, sweetheart, I wanna see it.”

Jo did as he ordered, feet parted and hips rolled. “Oh, yeah, that's it,” he sighed, “Do you like presenting yourself to me? Offering up your dripping pussy for me to fuck? Is that your way of asking me to breed you?”

“Yes!” Jo cried, “Dammit, Dean, just do it already!”

Her thighs quivered beneath his touch as Dean grasped the meat of her ass and spread her. “Oh you are ready for me,” he cooed. “Ready for me to put a baby in you. God, I can't wait to see your belly grow,” he teased as he smoothed her flat stomach. “And I'll remind you how it happened.” One hand slipped into her hair and wrenched her head back, her ear to his lips once more. “I'll remind you how I put that baby there, how I fucked you like the dirty little girl you are and filled your cunt with my seed and impregnated you.”

By then, Jo could hardly stand on her own two feet. She had all but melted against the table, Dean supporting her grasping hands with one arm. Despite her weak legs and heaving shoulders, Jo spoke. “Yes, Dean, please, I want it. Put a baby in my belly. Fuck me like I'm your little slut.”

If he hadn't strung himself out so thoroughly, Dean might have punished her for that. But after all his talk and the way her body had responded, the ache in his balls and the engorged length of his cock demanded release. He barely bothered with his briefs beyond shoving them to his thighs and his cock fell free to land squarely between her cheeks. The convulsion of Jo’s entire body rattled Dean to his very core with a grunt.

He grasped the base of his cock and angled the tip to her cunt, dragged in her ample arousal. “You ready, darlin’?”

Jo nearly wept with want. “Yes, Daddy, please, fuck me,” she mewled as she leaned over the table, chest flush to its dark oak surface. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

A snarl escaped his gritted teeth as Dean forced himself to maintain control. He wanted nothing more than to slam his cock into her, bottom out and hear her scream his name, beg for more until she incoherently babbled. “You will, my dirty little girl,” he sighed as he continued to tease her pussy. “But I'm not done having fun with you yet.”

The first sign of her frustration rattled the table as Jo hammered her fist on the heavy wood. Dean found her bottom lip pinched between her teeth when he looked up to her, face pink and hair matted to her forehead with sweat. He dug deep for the stamina to hold out a little longer as he dropped to his knees, grasped her ass, and spread her wide for his tongue.

The smooth, bitter sluice of her arousal filled his mouth as Dean sealed his lips on hers and sucked her clean. With each lap, Jo writhed as she moaned, as she clawed at the table and begged for more. Fuck, he wanted her in the worst way, but he knew the longer he held out, the sweeter their end would be. “I love the way you taste, sweetheart. So fucking good,” he mumbled into her ass. “Can’t wait to taste my cum as it drips from your cunt. Do you want that? Want me to eat your pussy after I come in it?”

The howl that rent from Jo’s bitten lips startled them both. “God dammit, Dean, will you just fuck me?!” Her fist landed on the table again. “Shut up and put that baby in my belly already!”

He buried his face between her cheeks, tongue shoved as far as he could reach into her pussy. Another high cry of arousal rang from her open mouth as Jo reached back and grabbed a fistful of his hair. In earnest, Dean sucked her flesh, lips and tongue driving her arousal to its completion. When he felt her fingers reach for her clit, he grasped her wrist and wrenched it behind her back, much to her frustration. But the pure wanton whimper he extracted from her as his thumb circled that little bundle of nerves was worth every bit of her ire.

Within seconds of his attention, Jo unraveled in a mess of moans, curses, and shivering convulsions. Shocks of her orgasm flexed her cunt and Dean sighed his own heightened arousal into her. In the wake of her release, the desperation for his own flailed wildly out of control, driving him to his feet. “Was that what you wanted?” he asked as he angled his cock, so painful with engorgement, to her dripping cunt again. “You wanted to come on my face, huh?”

Through her heaving breaths, Jo spoke. “Yeah, but,” she paused with a thick swallow, “I want that big fat cock of yours in my pussy, now,” she finished with a wild buck of her hips.

So perfectly primed for him, Jo glided onto his cock so fast, the smack of their bodies as they met rang like a struck bell. Together they moaned, Jo sated at long last and Dean digging deep for restraint. Damn her and her perfect cunt. “Fuck me, sweetheart, you feel so damn good after all that.” He sighed. “How does that feel for you?”

“Amazing,” she breathed as she rolled her hips. “But you know what would feel better?”

Dean withdrew from her and nearly collapsed. He grasped her hips, nails biting into the meat of her flesh, and hunched over her back. “Damn, I wanna fuck you so bad, but I need a minute.” He sighed, frustrated. “I'm… God, I could come right now.”

Jo’s pleased hum damn near undid him then and there. “Take your time, babe, I'll… try to be patient,” she said with a little laugh. “Gonna cost you though.”

Slow strokes eased him up to a steady pace with smooth rolls of his hips. Before Jo, Dean had found sex to be relaxing, a relief from the terrifying reality he lived every day. And while he often mixed work and play, he only ever viewed that time away from the job as just that: a break. But then he had met her, and sex took on an entirely different meaning, gained a drastically different purpose for him. And no, it wasn’t some ridiculous notion of love. That he had in spades from her regardless of sex. But for once in his life he could be so brutally vulnerable with someone and not give a single shit about it. That had changed him in ways he had never fathomed possible.

“You’re thinking so loud, I can hear the gears working in your head,” Jo said with a buck of her hips.

Dean grunted as she bottomed out against his thighs. “Sorry,” he said under his breath and squeezed her hips. “I needed a minute. Didn't want this to end… prematurely,” he jested.

Another roll of her hips stroked his cock. “I dunno, Dean, I'm ready for whatever you've got left in the tank.”

“Really?” Dean groaned as he slipped into her, pelvis to ass. “A car reference?”

She shimmied her hips as she looked over her shoulder, coquettish enough for an old magazine he might have owned once upon a time. “You are though. Big, tough, dependable. Like a big ol' pickup. You sure know how to haul my ass around.”

Dean took a moment to admire her backside, that supple curve of her ass. He followed its smooth line to his cock wrapped in her pussy and coated in her creamy arousal. “I do, don't I?” he mused. With a snap of his hips, he buried himself in her, and Jo cried out a heavenly moan. “I've had a lot of practice the last few years,” he continued as he withdrew. “Been fucking this pussy for over a decade,” he said as he slammed into her again, and she choked back her moan. “Then again, you've been riding my dick for just as long. I think you might know me better,” he paused. “Like how you knew I'd find all this kinky, dirty talk so easy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jo started with a whimper, “I know my Daddy very well.”

His pace picked up as he continued to thrust. “Christ, sweetheart, you keep calling me that and I might have to do something about it,” he growled as he smoothed a hand up her spine.

Beats of his hips against her backside marked her moan as Jo arched her back at his touch. “Yeah, Daddy? What are you gonna do to me?”

He thrust harder, their bodies slapping against one another and he felt the subtle flex of her cunt around his cock. “Teach you a lesson,” he growled as his hand slipped into her hair at the nape of her neck. With a rough jerk, he hauled her up to his chest and wrapped his other arm over her hip. “Fuck you silly and empty my load in you.”

Her hands mirrored his, one in his hair and the other grasping the back of his arm. “Fuck me, Daddy,” she mewled. “Fuck my pussy raw and gimme that baby.”

An almighty roar burst from his chest as Dean wrapped his fingers around her throat and pounded his cock into her. After such relentless teasing, he could pump into her flesh for hours, and a part of him wanted to, wanted to rail against her ass for a long as she would let him. He had half a mind to do it. But when Jo gasped and her breath caught in her throat, he knew what followed.

The first subtle sensation quivered in her thighs, the signs of her release hot on its heels. Relentlessly, Dean thrust into her, harder and faster as she found her voice, the long keening moan sung through his grasp of her throat. “Yeah, Jo, come for me. Come all over my cock, I want to feel you come on me,” he urged. “C'mon, honey, be Daddy's dirty little girl and come for me.”

“Yes, fuck, Dean, harder, fuck my pussy!” Jo begged. “Make me come, Daddy!”

Between her thighs, Dean plunged his hand, fingertips searching for and finding her clit. Furious circles rubbed as he thrust as fast as he could, delirious with his impending release. He split at the seams, unraveled as she had earlier, and his climax slammed into him harder than a speeding train.

No preamble, no hint, no warning could have prepared them. Jo cried out a strangled moan, short and incomplete as she clenched around him with the sudden onslaught of his own release. “Shit, Jo, I'm gonna come,” he growled, “I'm gonna come inside you and fill you up and breed you.”

“Yes, give it to me, Dean,” she whined in time with the smack of his hips against her ass. “Fuck my pussy, I wanna feel you come.”

There was no resisting her demands. Even if he had wanted to, Dean couldn't hold back any longer. Each flex of her cunt echoed in a hard throb of his cock, the heat between his thighs spreading like wildfire through his entire body as his orgasm surged. That first long, hard twitch filled her with a load the likes of which he hadn’t felt in decades. 

His thrusts stuttered wildly with each throb that followed, encouraged by the aftershocks of Jo's climax. The pale mixture of his seed and her cum spread to her thighs as she writhed against him in the wake of their climax, riding out that euphoric wave until she slumped in his arms.

Dean released her throat and withdrew his hand from her core. With his free hand, he stripped his underwear to the floor, then kicked them up for him to catch. “Here,” he said as he handed them to Jo, and she took them without question.

“Thanks,” she whispered, voice hoarse and dry. She shoved the bundle of fabric between her thighs, ready and waiting.

A steady breath steeled himself before he withdrew from her, half-flaccid cock falling free and dripping with their fluids. In a moment of panic, he searched the floor for his undershirt, found it, and snatched it up to clean himself. Once satisfied, he discarded the ruined cloth on the floor, then turned to Jo and scooped her up in his arms.

She laughed a soft hum through her nose, all sorts of delight dancing across her face. “That was kinda fun,” she teased.

Dean headed for the stairs and laughed his deep baritone. “I wouldn't get too used to it,” he said as he ascended the first steps. “I think I need about an hour in the tub with you after that.”

Deft fingers carded through his hair at the back of his head as Jo grinned. “That sounds wonderful,” she sighed. “I could use a long soak after that workout.”

“Good,” Dean said, her smile mirrored on his lips as he topped the stairs and turned for their bedroom. There he carried Jo into their bathroom, a wide space with a tub big enough for the both of them. He set her on her feet, then started the water.

Jo sat on the tiled ledge of the tub as she grabbed the bag of Epsom salt and poured a handful into it. “I'm kinda surprised where your mind went with all that vulgarity,” she mused.

Dean's cheeks stung as he wrapped his arms around her. “I know, I… I just used whatever came to me in the moment, I’m sorry,” he explained as he squeezed her closer. “I feel a little dirty. Kinda gross. That’s why…” he trailed off once more as he pointed at the bath.

Bless her heart. Jo eased his worries with nothing but her soft smile. “I loved it,” she said. “Everything you said was perfect. It was hot and sexy and dirty all at once.”

“Yeah but…” his voice broke, trailed off into the distance. Dean frowned as he search for the right words. “I wanna treat you the best way I can, be the best man for you. And that… something about it doesn’t feel right.”

A delicate step carried Jo into the tub where she sat, the water barely covering her ankles. “You know what, that’s fine. You don’t have to like it. And we never have to do it again. But I appreciate that you tried it once for me.”

Relief washed over him, tension seeping from his shoulders. “You’re awesome, you know that?” he said as he stepped into the tub beside her. As it filled, he slid beside her and wrapped her in his arms once more. “Like, the best woman I’ve ever met.” He thought a moment before remembering with stark clarity some of the things he had said earlier. “Ugh, I called you a ‘little girl’. How did I let myself say that?”

“That surprised me,” she said with a bright laugh. “Didn’t really know how you’d feel about all that 'Daddy’ kinkiness.”

Despite his concerns, Dean laughed with her. “I may have enjoyed that too much. Ugh, still, 'little girl’ skeeves me out.”

“That’s what this is for,” Jo said with a shimmy of her hips. “Aftercare is important. And there’s nothing better than an honest conversation after a bunch of vulgarity, debasement, and depravity,” she said with a giggle.

While eased by the sentiment, Dean’s mind wandered. So many other things he said had crawled under his skin, words he never thought he’d hear on his lips. And though he had not meant any of them, he couldn't help but wonder if they came from a place of truth, buried deep within his heart.

“You’re thinking really loudly again,” Jo teased.

The words slipped from his mouth before he thought to say them. “I want to have a kid.”

Time stood still as though balanced on the head of a pin, precarious but for the hand holding it. Dean's gaze drifted to the blue water as it swirled about his knees, content for Jo to ignore him in his moment of weakness.

He had never felt hands more delicate than hers. No, delicate did her no justice. Jo knew him. Knew him better than just about anyone aside from Sam and Castiel. Her touch revitalized him and soothed him, made him feel twenty-seven all over again. She turned his head down to hers where he found her sweet smile, and she spoke.

“You'd make an excellent father.”

Father. That word, that title weighed heaviest of them all on his weary shoulders. And yet the appeal remained. “I’d know all the things not to do at least,” he started with a laugh of his own. “And I’ve got you. You’d kick it in the ass, Jo. Mom or dad, you’d put 'em all to shame.”

“Think so?” she asked.

Dean cupped her cheek as he placed his lips on hers for long, lazy kiss. His worry abated and his fear quelled with her touch, her lips and tongue and breath all working together for that ephemeral moment of peace. When she parted from him, her eyes rolled open to stare into his and compelled him to speak.

“Without a doubt in my heart.”

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Dean’s Dames (Jensen):

@supernatural-jackles @jerkbitchidjitassbutt

[crispclown]

kurogiri hcs

i just have a lot of kurogiri thoughts....

- in canon mostly because i really like the theory that he's an ex-ua student who used to be friendly with aizawa and yamada before his quirk pretty much failed him during a battle and instilled the thought of "never let someone chase an unachievable dream" in aizawa afterwards. he was in a vulnerable position during that time and afo, who seems to watch the ua tournaments and realized kurogiri's quirk had the potential to be incredibly useful to his organization, swooped in similar to how it was with shigaraki and with careful manipulation pretty much became in kurogiri's eyes his savior who helped him realize how horrible the hero society is and gave him a second chance at redemption via villainy. because of this he feels a strong sense of debt towards afo 

- since he hasnt seen what an ass afo is yet he'd do almost anything afo would ask of him without question.

- to add onto the above of being an ex-ua student thats also one of the reasons he constantly has his mist on. i personally believe he does have a normal human form underneath going off how 1-a pinned him down during the ua rescue center scene. having his mist contantly at the ready helps be more prepared for all the sudden unexpected situations villains can fall into as well as disguise him from both media attention and anyone who might recognize him (old friends-) given the fact he's considered legally dead.

- the only people aware of his well. origin story is afo and some of his trusted higher ups who assisted in readjusting kurogiri to their group and pushing him to further his quirk abilities to do what he can do now

- kurogiri never really thought of telling shigiraki about since to him that backstory doesn't matter as much as helping him grow as afo's heir and as kurogiri's adopted son

- the reason kurogiri got into bartending was because when he first joined and he and afo were trying to figure out when he;d fit best kurogiri just sort of realize afo tends to drink A Lot. with all his quirks, its hard for afo to be killed by more normal means like alcohol poisoning and some of them had the side effect of needing a Shit Ton before afo could really get drunk

- so kurogiri just ended up helping fix afo's drinks and over time it morphed into learning how to bartend

- his loyalty to afo s pretty much the only reason kurogiri originally started taking care of shigaraki. afo knew how loyal and steadfast to him and took advantage of it to give him the job of raising/babysitting shigaraki. tbh i don't think kurogiri was fond of shigaraki since the beginning and probably acted more like a butler/robotic towards him at first before the unrelenting Parental Instincts tm kicked in one day after almost a year of looking after him and suddenly realized "oh fuck this is my son"

- during the year of lowkey awkward parenting he was internally having a crisis since in my mind he never really ever thought of having kids during his time as a hero in training so suddenly having the responsibilty of looking after one you know nothing about and is already pretty grown vs wanting to please afo who trusted him enough with the task made him p conflicted during the time

- thankfully(?) afo was the most active in shigarakis life during the beginning years so kurogiri didn't have to have his crisis while being a single dad as well. as shigaraki got older afo just started to withdraw more when he thought shigaraki and kurogiri were getting along well enough and weren't about to fight/betray him any time soon

- if the lov ever decided to break their assosiation with afo, kurogiri would likely still go with lov to make sure shigaraki and crew stay safe and that none of them get too hurt. despite that, he'd still retain quiet loyalty to afo due to his blind faith in him and would probably keep him updated if asked, thinking of it as a "father knows best situation"

- for the lov to be able to have his Total Loyalty, really the only person who could sway him would be shigaraki himself. as much as he feels like he has a debt to afo, shigaraki has pretty much become his own son in kurogiri's eyes (which he likely wouldnt outright admit-) and anything he'd tell him about afo would pretty much be the only stories kurogiri couldn't bring himself to cast doubt onto

- honestly in general shigiraki is pretty much the only one besides afo that he's willing to listen and consider anything he says. everyone else he might listen to but internally there's a possibility hes not really listening depending on the topic. like above, sometimes he thinks he just knows better though he is willing to admit whenever he's wrong

- mild projecting but besides shigaraki his favorite that he won't outright say is his favorite is toga. besides yknow the murdering which tbh doesn;t really bother him, he pretty much sees her as a a+ daughter and is just "lmao your lost" at her family. the only thing he doesn't like about her is when she goes out of her way to aggravate shigaraki or when she starts killing people suddenly and it throws off lov's plan

- he takes great pride in looking nice and presentable and while he might be willing to wear more casual clothes in his rare free time, he refuses to wear clothes like those free tshirts you get at events or his pjs outside his room.

- lowkey passive agressive about s o m e people not wearing socks t o m u r a. or not wearing long enough pants like arent your fucking ankles cold?

- kurogiri does also enjoy being a gentleman to go along with his professional aesthetic since like. just cause youre a villain doesnt mean you gotta be a dick yknow? too many heroes do that anyways (@ endeavor then perish)

- can swear but unable to around children 

- (shigaraki once heard him say fuck when he thought he was alone and its haunted them both ever since. neither of them talk about it)

- he's a villain so like. he doesnt feel bad about killing people or watching them get killed. he was literally willing to murder 13, all might, and 1-a and only didn't because renforments arrived. during their first meeting with toga and dabi, his concern was less about shigaraki killing someone but the concept of shigaraki killing someone who could be useful to their cause. if shigaraki had weighed the options and told kurogiri "yeah im gonna kill them theyre useless", kurogiri wouldnt have seen anything wrong with not stepping in again when shigaraki does so. 

- the only people he would feel bad for killing would be very young children since they remind him too much of how shigaraki used to be. parents of said children have a 50/50 chance depending on how they act

- kurogiri does try to let shigaraki be a grownup tm since hes like. 21 and make his own decisions but he really does have a habit of babying him since hes seen all the stupid shit hes done and said since he was like 5-6 and it all flashes in front of his eys sometimes

- for all the members who Can drink legally hes memorized their usual drinks by now. some of them (magne, twice, spinner-) probably use this to look cooler to recruits but everyone else Knows

- purposely says things like “the pokemens" in front of the younger members to set their fight or flight reflexes off

- video games are basically the only thing he really keeps up to date with pop culture wise tbh. whenever someone pulls him into playing one with them, he just acts like an old man who doesnt understand how to use controllers and lets them win to be nice. if he wanted he Could Destroy Them

- kurogiri doesn't dad anyone who doesn't want a dad figure showing up. he'll still do things like make sure they're being as safe as a villain can be and act as a mediator but otherwise they won't get much witness much dading unless its directed towards someone else