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starkstruck27 · 3 months ago

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My next fill for @metalsandwichbingo !! This fic and three of my others are all going to be chapters of the same story, though I don't know yet if I will post them consecutively or with others in between. I'll post the chapter titles too so that you'll know. The story itself is basically supposed to be like a cop drama like Law & Order, and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do.

Title: Lights and Sirens, pt. 1

Chapter Title: Songbirds Will Sing

Square + Prompt: C3, "Start at the beginning, and when you come to the end, stop."

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3231 words

Major Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Alternate universe, Cop Steve Harrington, Murder, Dixie Mafia, Cop Drama

Summary: As Detective Steve Harrington tries to solve a cold case murder from a few years ago, a curveball is thrown at him in the form of an old acquaintance from high school, Eddie Munson. He says that his friend, Billy Hargrove, has a crime to report, and the three start meeting up to gather evidence on Billy's father, who is part of the Dixie Mafia and has a wealthy with power as well as money. As the trio work together to solve the crime, their lives are put on the line, and they have to decide what is really most important to them; solving the case, or saving each other.

Also on: Ao3

The phones in the police station were ringing off the hook. At this point, it became like a white noise for most of the detectives, and unless they could feel their desks vibrating from the sounds of the machines, none of them could really even hear it anymore. And for some, even the tremors of the wood wasn’t enough to catch their attention, not if they were truly invested in their work. Detective Harrington was one of those detectives, and until his partner, Detective Buckley, pointed it out, he hadn’t even noticed it was still sitting there. He answered his phone, but it was a wrong number, and so he went back to reading over his case file, annoyed at the interruption.

“Hey,” Robin said, walking over with a cup of coffee in hand, “Earth to Steve. What’re you so invested in over there?”

“This case, Robin, it’s bugging me,” he said, not taking his eyes off the papers. “Y’know that shootout that happened the other day at that restaurant downtown?”

“Yeah, it was pretty cut and dry. Those kids got the guns and didn’t know how to use them so of course chaos ensued. What about it?”

“I don’t know. First of all, I don’t think those kids actually did anything, I think they were just the fall guys. There’s no way that they didn’t know how to use those guns, shot up the place by accident, and only managed to injure the mayor and his son. If their story were true, that place would’ve been a bloodbath, but it wasn’t. And not only that, but I just got the ballistics back. The bullets used are rare, only manufactured in some parts of the world, and yet, a cold case from a few years ago turned up with the same bullets. It was only six miles away from where the shooting occurred this week,” Steve explained, finally looking up at her. “That’s not a coincidence, Robin, it can’t be.”

“Okay, so what was the cold case?” Robin asked, scooching closer and trying to read over Steve’s shoulder.

“A woman was murdered a few miles out of town in the middle of the night. Nobody saw anything, and there were absolutely no witnesses. We didn’t have any missing persons reports around that time, but this woman, whoever she was, then turned up dead with two shots to the head and one to the heart. And what’s worse, the killer stayed to cut up and disfigure her face so that nobody could identify her. He burned off her fingerprints, cut out all her teeth, left no ID on her, and unfortunately, she wasn’t in the system so we had no luck with DNA. Jane Doe’s killer is still out there, and we have no idea what happened to her. But I know it has something to do with this shooting, I can feel it in my gut.”

“Is it that, or is the extra pepperoni and sausage pizza you had for dinner not agreeing with you?” Robin said, taking a sip of her coffee. Usually quips like this would make Steve smile and bring him out of whatever kind of funk he was in, but not tonight. He rolled his eyes and went back to staring at his case file, hoping to find some kind of evidence linking the two incidents.

It wasn’t long after he’d gotten back into the files when a man walked into the station and right up to his desk, grinning as he leaned up against it to get his attention.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked, still not looking up.

“God, I sure hope so,” an oddly familiar voice quipped, “Otherwise I just drove thirty-six miles across town in the pouring rain for nothing.”

Steve finally looked up now, and his suspicions were confirmed. The man standing before him was dressed in a black leather jacket, biker gloves, a white t-shirt, and had his hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, and Steve knew the smile on his face. It was Eddie, a guy he’d gone to high school with, and hadn’t seen for years, except in the mugshots that crossed his desk every so often. They never stayed though, Eddie was always bailed out by the company he worked for, Hargrove Industries, and there was never enough evidence to prove he had done anything wrong, so with a fancy corporate lawyer on his side, Eddie almost always got off scot-free. Why a petty criminal had just walked into a police station voluntarily, though, that was a question that made Steve look away from the file on his desk and sigh as he motioned for Eddie to sit down.

“So, Munson, to what do I owe this pleasure? You need someone to stamp your latest desk ticket?” Steve asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“Aw, don’t be like that Stevie! What happened to the fun loving guy you used to be? The guy who would throw parties for the entire class and come to me to supply-” Steve nearly jumped out of his chair to cut him off.

“What are you, nuts?! You can’t be saying that kind of stuff in here!” He hissed, his mood souring even more as Eddie just grinned at him.

“Oh, I’m just messing with you,” he said, waving it off. “Actually, I came in here to report a crime.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned…” Steve muttered as he got out the necessary papers and a pen. He didn’t really know what Eddie was playing at yet, but if there really was a crime here, he was going to make damn sure it dealt with. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Don’t worry, Detective, I know the drill,” Eddie was still smiling, but it faltered a bit as he started to go into more detail. “So, I have this… this friend, and he works with me at his dad’s company. He was actually the one who first told me to come in and report this, and I almost didn’t, but he’s a good friend and he needed my help, so here I am. Anyway, he told me-”

“Wait, hold on a second,” Steve cut Eddie off, putting down his pen and folding his hands. “Whatever crime you’re trying to report, were you actually there when it happened?”

“I mean, I’m sure I was there for some of it. A lot goes on at that company, man, nobody can be there for everything, but my friend is trustworthy, I promise. If he says something happened, something happened.”

“I believe you, Eddie, but unless you were there and witnessed a crime being committed, I can’t do anything about it. It’s hearsay otherwise, and it won’t hold up in court. And because of double Jeopardy, we can’t get justice for the crime without new evidence, so if you tell me this now, whatever happened can go unprosecuted,” Steve explained, sighing as Eddie’s face fell. “However, if you can get this friend down here to talk to me, and he was present when the crime took place, then we might have something. Can you get him down here?”

“Probably not,” Eddie sighed, “The whole reason I came is because if he were to come into a police station, his life might be at risk. See, he doesn’t just work for the company, it’s owned by his dad, and he’s not a good dude. He’s done a lot of bad things to a lot of people, and he has no qualms about doing them to his family, either. That’s why my friend asked me to come and report it, because he can’t.”

“Well, unfortunately, you can’t, either,” Steve shook his head, thinking for a minute. “Is there any way that he could meet us at a neutral location, like a coffee shop or something? Somewhere he frequents that nobody would think is odd for him to go? All I need is a statement from him, and then I can start investigating, but I can’t do anything until then, so if he really wants this reported, we need to work something out.”

Eddie looked down for a minute, thinking, but then his face brightened. “There was this diner his Ma liked. He still goes there a lot when he needs a break from being around his old man. I’ll talk to him and see if he’d be willing to go and talk to you there.”

“Alright, good,” Steve said, smiling a bit as he stood and shook Eddie’s hand, then gave him a business card, “Whenever you guys are ready, give me a call and we’ll set up a time to meet.”

It took a couple of days for Steve to hear back from Eddie, apparently it took a lot of convincing for his friend to come and meet up with him, but finally, Steve sat in a booth at a little hole-in-the-wall diner, waiting for them to arrive. He had a recorder in his pocket and a yellow legal pad and pen sitting next to him, and as he sipped his coffee and studied the menu, he finally saw the two he was waiting for walking over to him.

Eddie was leading the way, followed by a shorter man dressed in a nice tailored suit. He had blonde hair and striking blue eyes, and a nice smile, which he showcased as he waved to a few of the staff members, most of them seeming to know him well. When he and Eddie finally got to the booth, they both slid into the same side, and a waitress immediately came over to take their order.

“Hiya, Billy,” she said, smiling widely as she took out her order pad. Her name tag said ‘Max’ in curly red letters that matched her hair. “How’ve you been?”

“Good enough, I guess. How’re you? How’s your grandma doing?” He asked, picking up a sugar packet and tapping it idly on the table.

“Oh, she’s fine. She’s been complaining non-stop about having to take it easy since she caught that cold, but she should be back down here ordering me around in another day or two, tops. She’d love to see you, though. Maybe stop upstairs and say hi before you leave?” Max said, and Billy promised he’d do just that. After that, she took their orders, and once that was done, she left them alone.

“Jesus, I knew you came here a lot, but I didn’t know you were that close with the staff,” Eddie smiled as he nudged Billy.

“Well, I practically grew up here. Even after my mom died, I still consider most of the staff my family. Max is like the annoying little sister I never had,” Billy explained, tossing the sugar packet at the girl as she passed by again. It hit her in the back, and as she returned with a fresh round of coffee, she teased him and said he didn’t get any until he apologized, sticking her tongue out at him. He said he was sorry and stuck his tongue out, too, then took his coffee from her as she left again. It was only then, as he took his first sip of coffee, that he seemed to remember that Steve was there, and he quickly put his cup down and sat up a bit straighter.

“So, um, I guess we should get started, shouldn’t we?” He asked, clearing his throat and sticking out his hand. “I apologize for being so rude, I’m Billy Hargrove, it’s nice to meet you, Detective.”

“Likewise,” Steve replied, shaking his hand before reaching into his pocket and getting out the recorder. “So, this isn’t an interrogation, it’s just an interview. I’m only taking your statement, and since you’re not under arrest, I won’t be reading you your rights. With that being said, none of this would be admissible in court, so please, don’t hold anything back because you think you’ll be in trouble for it. Just tell me everything. Start at the beginning, and when you come to the end, stop.”

The little red light on the recorder was switched on, and Steve nodded, waiting for Billy to start talking. Eddie patted his shoulder when he hesitated, and then, after a sigh and another sip of coffee, he finally did.

“It’s been going on for years, before I was even born, probably. My dad was born into money and privilege, so I guess he figured the rules don’t apply to him, and he acts accordingly. He’s done a lot of messed up stuff over the years. Money laundering, tax fraud, and bribery are just the tip of the iceberg. He’s beaten, tortured and killed men right in front of me, ever since I was maybe nine or ten years old. He’s raped women, but none of them ever came forward, because he always bought them off. I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure that’s how he met my mother. She worked here at the time and I think he was obsessed with her or something, because he hired her at the company as a secretary or something, and she told me once that she doesn’t remember a lot of that time, only bits and pieces. But he married her when she found out she was pregnant with me, so I guess she didn’t care to know.

“Still, they never got along. She would end up back here with me every six months or so, but she always went back to him for some reason or another. That is, until he eventually got fed up with her leaving so often that he killed her. A couple of years ago, they went out for a date and Mom never came back. Dad said that she got pissed at him, got out of the car and walked away, and he figured she’d just hail a cab back home once she blew off some steam. But she never came back, and when I checked around here to see if anyone had heard from her, nobody had. There was no way that she would’ve left without telling someone. Her best friend Susan still works here, that’s Max’s mom, and we agreed that there wasn’t a chance in Hell that she would leave and not tell at least one of us where she was going.

“Then, a couple of days later, I turned on the news and saw that the police had found the unidentifiable remains of a woman a few miles away from the restaurant they said they were going to that night, and I knew it was her, and I knew he had killed her. But I couldn’t prove it, and I knew about the double Jeopardy law, so I said to myself that I wouldn’t tell anyone that I knew until I had undeniable proof that it was him. I was just waiting for some kind of slip-up, something that he would do that would finally be solid proof that he did it. And until the other day, I didn’t have any. But then, he sent some of his goons to send the Mayor a message, and they had to be discreet about it, so they went in with pistols instead of machine guns or something like they normally would.

“One of the pistols was my dad’s personal gun from a few years ago, he always had it on him, but since the night my mom died, he never picked it up again. He said it jammed too often so he got a better one, but I guess he saw this as a perfect opportunity to pin the murder of my mom on a random person by making it look like the gun he used was one that was just circulating around on the street, being bought and sold and somehow ending up with these kids, but I know better. He was waiting for an opportunity to get rid of it, but he shouldn’t have done that, because now I have what I need to come to you and get him locked up for life. He deserves more than that, but I’d rather see him rotting in a cell than going to one myself for giving him exactly what he deserves.”

“And do you have any way of proving that the gun was his? A registration record, a serial number, anything?” Steve asked, hoping for a miracle.

“Nah, he got most of his guns illegally and never registered them. He always wears gloves to handle them and has the serial numbers filed off before he ever even picks them up. But I could get you one of the bullets, if that’d help,” Billy said, tapping another sugar packet on the table.

“Well, first things first, we have to confirm that the body we found was actually that of your mother. Would you be willing to give me a DNA sample to compare to hers?” Steve asked, and Billy nodded quickly. Steve took a cotton swab out of a plastic container and reached across the table to swab the inside of Billy’s mouth, and once he had done it, he resealed the swab in the container and put it into a spare evidence bag. He’d take it down to the lab personally as soon as this little meeting was over.

“Thank you,” he said as he tucked the evidence bag into his jacket pocket. “Now, if this checks out, we’ll do what we can to reopen the case. In the meantime, is there any way that we can get probable cause for a warrant to search your father’s home and office? I can’t have you bring me any bullets, because if it were to go to trial, the defense would argue that you had done everything, and we don’t want that.”

“What kind of things could I bring you?” Billy asked.

“Anything that proves some other crime took place, as long as you don’t steal anything. If there are records of his finances that are available to anyone working in the company, any kind of public information that would point a finger at him for something, as long as you don’t steal anything private, or it could get thrown out in court and we could lose our chances of getting a warrant. It may take a while to find something like that, but we have plenty of time. There’s no statute of limitations on murder, so no matter what, we can nail him, as long as we take our time,” Steve explained, and Billy and Eddie both nodded.

He checked his watch then, and realized that the lab would be closing soon, so he took one last sip of his coffee and gathered his things, tossing some cash on the table, as well as another of his business cards.

“I have to get going, but if you find anything that could help us get a warrant, give me a call, and we’ll set up another time to meet. In the meantime, lie low, and be careful. I’ll be in touch,” Steve said as he stood up. He shook both men’s hands before he left, and then hurried to his car. After nearly four years, he finally had a break in the case, and he just hoped he’d be able to nail the bastard before anyone else got hurt.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #robin buckley #fanfic #metalsandwich #msb2024

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walker-extended-universe · 1 year ago

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We Need To Talk About Henry

Relationship(s): Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, August Walker & Emily Walker & Stella Walker

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Wakes & Funerals, Family Reunions, First Meetings, Awkward Conversations, Angst

Summary: A Henry Winchester Verse spinoff in which Cordell was the one that died and Sam and Dean have to pass on hunting knowledge to the next generation.

Written for @whumpuary prompt 5: "Stay. Please."

Part 2 of Walkernatural Extras

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

-------

Dean had almost been excited when his phone rang. After taking out God, monster activity had slowed to almost nothing, likely thanks to Jack’s influence on the world. Dean wasn’t exactly complaining about the lack of people dying, but he was starting to get antsy, stuck in the bunker for weeks on end without anything to do or research. There were only so many times he could wash Baby and clean his guns before that got old.

“This is Dean,” he greeted without looking at the caller ID.

“Hi…. Dean. It-It’s Emily. Are you busy? Is Sam there?”

“Ah- Not at the moment. Why?”

“Can you get him? I-I have news.”

Dean had a sinking feeling it wasn’t news either of them wanted to hear. “Yeah, just let me find him.”

He found Sam in the library (of course) and sat across the table from him, putting Emily on speaker and setting the phone between them. “Okay, Emily. We’re both here. What’s your big news?”

“I- Well….. It’s Cordell. He- He’s dead.”

Dean’s stomach dropped and his eyes flicked to Sam. They hadn’t had the best relationship with their other brother since he left all those years ago but it had gotten slightly better over the years, with Cordell helping some of their friends have a normal life. But things had always been different between the twins.

Sam swallowed hard but had no other outward reaction- yet. “What- What happened?”

“It was…. It’s just the job. Just… Just a normal raid,” she said quietly. “There were more guys there than they expected and he got separated from his partner…. He didn't even make it to the hospital.” Her voice wavered on the last sentence.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. What else was there to say?

“Me too.” Emily sniffled then spoke again. “Look, we’re holding a funeral here in a few days after the DPS has their pony show funeral for their ‘hero’. It’s just gonna be a small thing, family and close friends. People that know about you. I… I think he’d like it if you came. And… I want you to meet the kids. I think it’d be good for them.”

Dean looked back at Sam, waiting for some kind of response. They should go to their brother’s funeral, but he didn’t like how quiet Sam was.

“We’ll be there,” Sam said. “Just text us the time and address.”

“Okay. Thank you. I-I’ll be in touch.” She hung up and Dean slid the phone into his pocket.

“Sam? You okay?”

“He’s dead, Dean. How okay do you expect me to be?” He pushed himself up from the table and left the room.

Dean didn’t have an answer to that.

—------------

Cordell was dead. Henry was dead. His twin was dead.

No matter how Sam turned it over in his head, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

Cordell was supposed to be the safe brother. He got out of hunting. He got married, started a family, paid a mortgage. Sure, he worked in law enforcement which was only a few steps down from hunting, but they had far better protection than any hunters did.

The idea that something as simple as a bullet could take his brother from him just didn’t seem possible.

“Sam, you ready?”

Sam snapped out of his thoughts and realized they were parked in front of the ranch where Cordell’s private funeral was being held. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m ready,” he muttered, opening the door before he could be questioned further.

There were a few other cars. Emily did say it was going to be a private thing. Sam and Dean still wore suits, just in case.

Sam let Dean take the lead and stood a little behind him as he knocked. They only had to wait a few moments before Emily answered. She smiled softly at them and stepped aside to let them in. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I- Everyone’s out back. We- Cordell wanted his body burned on a pyre so we set something up in the yard. I guess that’s what you call a hunter’s funeral? He put in his will so… Can’t really argue with it. I was just going to cremate him but this is what he wanted.”

Sam couldn’t look her in the eye, but he could tell she was wrecked. Not that he could blame her. He knew the pain of losing someone he loved. She was handling it better than he or Dean ever did.

“Yeah, that’s a hunter’s funeral,” Dean said. “Kinda surprised he asked for one, but I guess it never hurts to be careful.”

“Yeah, I guess not….” Emily led them out of the back door of the ranch house. There was a small group of people standing near the pyre,

There was an older couple that Sam vaguely remembered from the last time they’d been in Austin almost 15 years ago, when they were looking for Henry after Jess died. They were talking to a man Sam didn’t recognize. Standing a few feet away were two teenagers, the kids Emily had talked about before if he had to guess. They were talking to another couple that Sam didn’t recognize at all.

He had expected more people. True, Emily had said this was going to be private, but he expected close family and friends to include more people. Maybe that was just his imagination running away with him.

Emily led them over to the teenagers first. “Stella, August,” she started, “these are the… extended family I told you about before. Sam and Dean. Sam, Dean, these are your niece and nephew.”

Extended family was probably a better term than they deserved. “It’s nice to meet you two, finally,” was all Sam could think to say, smiling as best he could.

Stella regarded them cautiously. “Glad you could make it,” she muttered.

Her brother smiled at them briefly. “It’s nice to meet you too. I… I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Hi, I’m Geri. This is Hoyt,” said the woman standing near them. “We’re friends of Cordell. I’m glad you came.”

“Glad to be invited,” Dean said.

Emily smiled tightly. “Right. Well, I think we’re about ready- Oh, Larry!” She waved at someone behind them. “Larry, Did you bring what I asked?”

Sam looked over his shoulder to see a newcomer. “Ah, yes, I did,” the man said, holding up a gas can. “Still can’t believe he asked for this….” He eyed Sam and Dean curiously, looking to Emily with a silent question.

“Oh, right. Larry, these are Cordell’s other brothers, Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean, this is Larry James. He’s… Cordell’s partner. With the rangers.”

Sam felt more than saw Dean stiffen. He knew exactly what his brother was thinking; Henry’s partner was supposed to watch his back. And he failed. He grabbed Dean’s arm, silently begging him not to make a scene. Not here, not now.

“Nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you from Cordell. Maybe we can get drinks and swap stories together while we’re in town,” Larry offered.

“Not sure we’ll be in town that long,” Dean said curtly.

Emily coughed and took the can from Larry’s hands. “Let’s just do this? Abby’s got lunch made for everyone inside. You can all talk then.”

Sam discreetly kept a hold on Dean’s arm while they watched Henry’s body burn. He was afraid of what Dean might say or do on his own, watching someone else light the body while the man who was (partially) responsible for his death stood there like he belonged. It must kill Dean as much as it was killing him that they, Henry’s brothers, felt like the outsiders here.

The man of the older couple put out the fire as the ashes started to die down and everyone went inside. Emily introduced them to Liam, Henry’s “brother” and Abby and Bonham, the owners of the ranch and the people who had taken Henry in after he left all those years ago.

Honestly, Sam was happy for his twin. He’d managed to do something none of the rest of the Winchesters did; he built a life and a family of his own and kept them safe in every way he could. But, all the same, he was hurt that he’d essentially be replaced in his brother's life. And he knew Dean felt that too.

Sam was glad they came to the funeral. He just wished it didn’t hurt so much.

Larry James was the first to leave, not without promising to follow up on that drink offer. Sam smiled because Dean wouldn’t and they were left with the rest of the Walker family. Listening to them tell stories about Henry only served to make Sam and Dean feel more outcast and unwelcome.

They braved the stories and inside jokes they couldn’t participate in for as long as they could before they took their leave.

Emily stopped them before they went out the door. “You could stay,” she said, almost desperately. “There’s plenty of motels in town but I’m sure Abby and Bonham would let you-”

“We don’t want to outstay our welcome,” Dean muttered.

“Please, stay.” Emily's hand rested on his arm. “I- Maybe it’s not fair of me to ask this but you being here does help. And….” she sighed. “If you need a real reason to stay, Cordell never got around to telling them about monsters. I wanted him to tell them sooner but…. He always said he wanted them to have real childhoods and monsters weren’t part of that.”

Sam looked at Dean and knew what his answer would be. Whether they were welcome here or not, those kids were family. Family that was very much at risk without a skilled hunter around to protect them. If Henry couldn’t pass on the family business, they would have to do it for him.

“We can do that,” Sam said.

Emily smiled and thanked them. “I’ll- I’ll talk to the kids and let you know when to come by and give them the talk.”

“Sounds good.” Sam could only hope the conversation would go as well as Emily hoped it would.

—-------

Dean drove them to the Walker home in the suburbs two days after the funeral. “I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” he said, looking at the deceptively picturesque house from their spot on the curb.

“Someone has to talk to them,” Sam said. “They need to know the truth before they learn it the hard way.”

“Yeah, well, they won’t wanna hear it.”

“They never do.”

Emily greeted them at the door and led them into the living room where Stella and August were waiting. Again, August smiled at them but Stella refused to make eye contact.

There wasn’t a single universe within anyone’s imagination where this conversation wasn’t going to be awkward. No matter how much Emily smiled or how gentle Sam and Dean tried to be with it or how interested August tried to look. It was never going to go well. No one ever reacted well to hearing monsters were real. Dean could only imagine how much more awkward it would be when you were also learning that most of what you knew about your Dad was a lie.

But, as Sam said, someone had to tell them. It may as well be their family.

They didn’t get much further than ‘Monsters are real and we need to teach you how to kill them’ before Stella stopped playing nice. “This is bullshit.”

Emily stared at her. “Stella-”

“It is!” Stella pushed herself up from the couch and glared at her mother. “You can’t expect us to just go with this. You randomly tell us Dad has two brothers we’ve never heard about before, then they come in and tell us monsters exist so they have an excuse to hang out with us, and we’re not supposed to think that’s weird? No. I’m not doing this.” She stormed out of the room and Emily followed on her heels.

August stayed sitting at the table, staring at his hands. “You guys should probably go,” he muttered. “It’ll be a while before she calms down and she still won’t listen to you.”

“Right. Okay. Tell your mom ‘bye’ for us,” Dean muttered.

It probably could’ve gone worse, he thought to himself while mindlessly flipping through tv channels in their motel room that night. He tried not to think too much about why he and Sam weren’t packing up yet, when it was so obvious they didn’t belong here.

Then, there was a knock on the door.

Dean exchanged a look with Sam and cautiously approached the door. It was too late to be housekeeping and there was no one else who would bother them here.

Dean checked through the peephole before answering the door. “...August.”

The kid stood in front of the door, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. “Can I come in?” he asked in a small voice.

Dean stepped aside to let him in. “What are you doing here? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

August glared at him. “I’m 15, not 5. I don’t have a ‘bedtime’.”

“Curfew then.”

“It’s not until midnight. I have time. And Mom knows I’m here anyway; she told me where you were staying.”

“That’s all well and good, August,” Sam said from his spot on the bed. “But that doesn’t answer the question. Why are you here?”

August unhunched his shoulders and looked at them with a determination that reminded Dean a little too much of Henry. “I want to learn how to kill monsters.”

“You sure about that, kid?” Dean asked. “Your sister didn’t seem too jazzed about the idea.

August looked down. “Yeah, well…. She doesn’t get it.”

“What doesn’t she get?” Sam asked gently.

August shrugged, looking away from Dean. “It’s just….Dad’s always protected us,” he said quietly. “From people and… I guess monsters too. But he’s not here now. Someone has to look after us since he’s not here anymore. Uncle Liam is going back to New York soon and Gramps is getting older and you two won’t be here forever. So…It has to be me.”

It has to be me. Practically a Winchester motto. He didn’t even need to look at Sam to know what he was thinking. “You’re a little young to be thinking that way, kid,” Dean said.

August deflated. “...So you won’t teach me?”

“Didn’t say that,” Dean said. “We will teach you. We’ll teach Stella too if she’ll let us. We owe it to your dad.”

“But it’s not gonna be easy,” Sam warned. “Fighting monsters is dangerous. There’s a reason your dad kept it a secret for so long.”

“I know. I’m ready for that.” But he didn’t know. And he wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not by a long shot.

“Right. Well, either way, we’re not starting your lessons now. Go home and get some rest. We’ll start in the morning,” Dean promised.

August nodded and left, leaving the brothers alone again.

Dean sighed as the door clicked shut behind him. Guess we’re staying in town for a little bit.” He only hoped they’d stay welcome.

#walker #walker fic #walker fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #walkernatural #henry winchester verse #walkernatural extras #my writing #my fic

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midnighteloquence · 4 months ago

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den

…

im gonna kms

this hasnt been saved

for the THIRD FUCKING TIME

okay lets do it again i guess fucking bitch i had such good writing in here

heres my code names up to date i guess 🙄

(leaving A out til the end :3)

Friend B: i will never have anything negative to say about her. shes literally in the top three list of people i love. shes the reason im still here. shes my day oner frfr. im so glad she pointed out my bag that one day two years ago, because idk where i’d be if i wasnt her friend. being friends with her has brought me so many other people, so much of my personal development, and in general shes just amazing. not to mention shes so pretty. she makes school actually bearable. in the morning i’ll be pissed off about waking up and she’ll pick a crane fly off the wall or smth and my mood is immediately lifted. i love her with my whole heart

Friend C: oh boy where do i start

the main subject of this rant blog. every other rant on this blog is about him. i will admit that there was a time i liked him. but that was before we even knew each other. it all started going wrong when we became friends.

i admired them because in my eyes they seemed cool. we shared similar “alternative” interests, and they had so many stories to share. but now? i wish i could stop myself from being their friend. i hate their guts, i admit that, but maybe theres a different universe out there where i could like them. where they didnt hug me non consensually, or verbally attacked me as a “joke” (because of how much they love me 🥺), or made sexual jokes about me, or would ask repeatedly for things instead of accepting i said no, or lied pathologically, or did anything of the sort. but thats not this universe, and so in this one i can have and express that i dont like them and theyre a terrible human being. i hope you burn, but i also used to like you.

got melodramatic there whoopsies

Friend D: i admired them alongside C. ironic how admiring people from afar caused them to be terrible people. i hadnt noticed D’s red flags until a couple weeks ago, where i was properly educated, and now im pissed off. theyre scum to me. not in degrading way, theyre a genuine terrible human being. which is such a pity since they seemed like such a reasonable person. did not seem like the typa person to do these typa things (i have a rant here explaining). oh well, ill live. i barely talked to them anyways. theyll stick to thinking theyre not the problem, and ill stick to ranting about them in my tumblr posts.

Friend E: blast from the past wowoowowowowowiw

i was close to them like last year summer, but dropped them ages ago this year. i had my reasons, and obviously made sure that i told them my reasons instead of just leaving because i knew that was the right thing. tbh? idr what half of those reasons were. im sure most were reasonable, but also i was extremely petty back then. nowadays i dont rlly care for them. im neutral. like if they chatted to me i would be fine with it and chat back, but i dont wanna be their friend. and its fine because they understand that and dont wanna be mine either. its the first breakup (friend breakup) ive had that ends with communication instead of leaving on read.

Friend F: yippee some positive sprinkle in yo life! i dont talk to her often but shes so cool and admirable as a human being and generally really bubbly and fun. shes the reason i ever found out im autistic! which thank you for that. they dropped D for their mental health and that’s soooo admirable and respectable of them. i admire them from afar and wish we talked more. even if we arent in the same friend group anymore, i still think theyre neat!

And finally…

Friend A: a bitch /j

okay okay for serious they are the reason im alive. im not exaggerating when i say you saved me. youre an actual angel (if not a wholeass goddess) sorry im dumping a “if not for you id be dead!” thing whoops. NEWays she makes my life and school life so much better and is so entertaining to talk to. not to mention pretty like??? im going to actually confess here and now that there were a couple times i needed you to repeat what you said because all i was thinking about is “how can someone be this pretty?” /gen /ily /p

bulleting holes- points because you did so >:3

the most creative mf on the planet when it comes to plotlines, lore, character designs. AND THEN YOU STILL FIND A WAY TO MAKE MORE PLOTLINES AND CHARACTERS???? insane dude

your make actual schedules which is maddening considering i cant even think of what im having for dinner

pretty…

hilarious because why you got me giggling and kicking my feet at your texts

CAN SOMEHOW PUT UP WITH ME YAPPING

super duper duper passionate about interests >:3

distance

science is so boring without you come back…

your remarks are so funny man like genuinely how do you come up with stuff like that on the spot

i lovevevevvrvevevevvevevvevec your clothing style ahhhh im gonna steal your clothes

i love you

thats a bullet point

ily man never forget 🤙

I think thats it! (i excluded mario, friend 1 & 2 because cba)

bye bye if tumblr doesnt save this im loading a glock

#rant post #rant #ye

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dethbug · 1 year ago

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FOR THE AMV ASK GAME 😏😏😏 Hot Mess, Everytime We Touch (can be either lickles or loffdensen OR BOTH 😁), and All The Things She Said? :)) 💗💗

HIII MIA ILY HELLO :-] erhh im in a loffdensen mindset today so i will go w him AHH heres a gif of the both of them though ^_^

🍷 HOT MESS :: Excluding your main f/o(s) you already ship with your s/i, is there any other characters from the source that would have a crush/romantic feelings for your s/i? Or, alternately, has your s/i been with anyone else before your f/o(s)?

uhhhh ... mia you already know all about this but uh.......... in my canon magnus and i dated and he just ... is forever obsessed.... just destiny/the prophecy never being in his favor things !!! but in all serious there is so much lore there...like... so. so much. DHFSJH i have a handful of drawings abt it its just none of them are finished...

but yes we met right after he was kicked out of dethklok and he never lets go >_>

🍷 EVERYTIME WE TOUCH :: How would your s/i describe your f/o? How would your f/o describe your s/i?

me describing charles > "Oh lord, where do I begin with that fool. He's silly! Sillier than he'd like to admit, that's one thing I really love about him. You think he's this uptight, business dude, but man. He's got some good impressions under his belt! Like... Facebones. Heh heh. I love that side of him, I love that he can make me laugh so easily. I love everything about him, honestly. The way he insists on doing skincare every morning and night with me, the way he always asks what I'm drawing when he sees me working on something new, the way his hands look. I've got it bad, don't know if it was obvious or anything. Dude's just okay I guess, heh heh."

charles describing me > "There was always something about her, you know...? Ah, the way she looks when she's focused. When she, ah, plays with her lip piercing when she's lost in thought. The way she lights up when she looks at me. I, ah, could... go on. The list is quite endless if I had to name everything I adore about her; But, ah, her fashion and the way she carries herself is a big one. To say she has a knack for enchanting me with every small mannerism would be an embarrassing understatement. I really love her... I love her a lot."

🍷 ALL THE THINGS SHE SAID :: If your character was a part of the original media they’re an insert for, how would the fandom treat them? How would they treat the ship?

in all honesty i think if i was canon in the mtl universe id be hit or miss with fans HDSFHJ unsure how to pinpoint why id think that -- i just think my writing is wayyy too dramatic and self indulgent BUT MAYBE IM WRONG im overly critical maybe people would think im girlboss idk HAJHDS BUT UHH i think people would like loffdensen :-] perhaps !! idk!!! i think its silly and i love a long ass slowburn the tropes like OHH BUT THE ODDS ARE AGAINST THEMMM...OHH ITS UNPROFESSIONAL.... but also like... destiny/the prophecy plays a big factor in it too so its like OOO AAA HDSHJ I DONT KNOW im a crazy person man

........ bonus magnus gif ........ he sucks [i am incredibly emotionally attached to my own fanon version of him]

#ty mia ily #[⛓️] go forth and die #[🐻] mr. roboto #[🐻🤍🦇] do you believe in love #[🚬] revenga #[🗯] asks.txt

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juddygirl · 2 years ago

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Vegas Vampire Club

Max/Daniel - 2490 words - Alternative Universe (also on AO3)

They still ask for his ID when he goes to buy liquor for his nightclub. Daniel just had it changed to make it less suspicious. It used to read Daniel Ricciardo, July 1st 1926, but cashiers wouldn’t believe he’s 96. He bribed his good friend at the DMV to change the birth date to 1989, it looks a little more believable that way. He tries to stay on top of these kinds of things, changing his birth date on his ID, cleaning blood thoughtfully off the floor, and reminding his two best friends to never turn someone else, not even for love, or else Vegas will be plagued with vampires and no one will want to come back here again. They’ve got a business here, and lives they can’t throw away.

Daniel can say that he always learned to adapt to each century, to each place they’ve settled to. He came to Vegas right at the beginning of its glory, having been all around the world before. He thinks he’ll stay here until another war strikes, or if someone finally puts a dagger in his heart.

Being a 569-year-old vampire is lonely, even if you have your best friends by your side. In each place they’ve been to, Michael and Blake always found someone to spend a small part of their life with. Daniel has always been pickier, ending with a string of boyfriends and girlfriends over the years. Sometimes he wishes he could find someone, not as cheesy as Michael or as drug filled as Blake, but someone to share small moments with, to remember what intimacy is all about. Instead, he busies himself with his nightclub instead.

“Okay, guys. Tonight will be our biggest night, many vampires have travelled the country, even the world to come here because we promised fine dining and great partying, so please make sure they have the best time in their immortal life.” He says, perched on the bar. “We will also accept humans that are not on the menu, obviously. But only humans, no other creatures go through these doors.”

The orgy room has been cleaned for this big occasion, the private blood-sucking rooms build for privacy, and drugs are provided and will be handed to any human in search of a thrill by Blake. Some vampires come here just for drub blood.

Everything is set. They can be proud of themselves. This has been months in the making. It’s maybe the club's biggest event of the decade. With luck, it can beat the Y2k bash they had thrown some twenty years ago.

Daniel is still tensed about the whole party, his club reputation could go up in flames with just one little fuck up, it needs to be perfect. Michael suggests he just take a drink and relax, but Daniel isn’t hungry, he can’t have any blood right now, too stressed about every single detail.

********

The party is booming. Daniel recognizes a few old friends that still look the same. A massive group of bachelorettes make their entrance, screaming with excitation as soon as they see the vampire stripper in a corner, this is always a hit. Daniel reckons that most of the human girls coming here will taste bitter, a lot do, jealous of the future bride. A few fellow vampires from England are already drunk. Blake comes to find Daniel to tell him he’s selling like crazy and really this is an overall success. Everyone seems to have a great time.

An old fling from decades ago tries to drag him to the orgy room. That’s never been Daniel’s scene. Maybe that’s where is true age shows. Or maybe it’s because he’s just an old romantic soul that believes you can find a soulmate, that sex isn’t just a vice you need to suppress or give in to. He’s been told too many times he’s no fun when he doesn’t want to do anything else than monogamous sex. Blake told him too many times that he’s an old boring fuck.

“I actually need to deal with this,” He tells his ex, pointing to the bar.

A waiter just pointed to a guy, signalling to Daniel that there is a situation. He just spat back all of the blood he tried to drink.

Humans don’t order Daniel’s special, they stick to regular alcohol, overpriced cocktails and cheap beer, they drain his supplies quicker than he can drain blood. You’d have to be a vampire to know about the special. Vampires are never picky about their drinks.

There is a fucking intruder in his club. The party is ruined, everything is fucked.

He calms himself down. He won’t fire whoever let the guy in, but he’ll have a talk with them, later, once he’s actually dealt with this.

He follows the dirty blond-haired man who jumped out of his bar stool and ran all the way to the toilets. They both cut the line and human guys protests like they are the ones owing the place. Daniel doesn’t have the time to suck the blood out of one of them just to prove a point. He grunts in frustration and orders those inside to get the fuck out.

“Use the women’s bathroom for all I care,” Daniel shouts at them in his most commanding voice. “Come out!” He orders the intruder.

It’s just a couple of seconds of silence before he hears throwing up.

Daniel sends the bathroom stall door flying into the room. It breaks against the wall. Daniel will feast on whoever is in there.

Crouched over the bathroom toilet, the guy wiped his mouth on his black shirt. As soon as he lifts his head to glance at Daniel, he sees them, the yellow eyes, and the fake vampire tooth.

“That shit was absolutely disgusting.” He says, getting back on his feet.

“Who the fuck are you? And how the hell did you get into my club.” Daniel asks, furious.

“Oh, your security guard got fooled by my fake teeth. Didn’t even ask for my name, of course.”

Daniel will kill that fucking guard, screw the gentle talk.

He dives towards him, lifting him off the ground, grabbing him by the throat. The guy doesn’t look scared or even surprised. In all Daniel’s career, this is a first.

“I’ve always wondered if it was true, if you could, like, fly.” He says, looking down at his dangling feet.

“Who the fuck are you?” Daniel asks again, menacing. The guy doesn’t yield. “I will kill you.”

“Wait.” He holds a finger up and pulls on his glued fake fang.

Daniel is baffled.

They kiss, or rather the guy presses his lips against Daniel and fucking hell, his whole body just shakes with desire as they just make out, heavily for long minutes, Daniel's hand still wrapped around the guy’s neck.

He gets stripped out of his clothes in no time and then taken against the bathroom sink, hard and fast. He can’t help all the noises he makes. Shame he can’t see what he actually looks like in the mirror. He’d love to see how he looks right now.

They kiss again when he’s pounding into him, and he tells him his name, Max.

Daniel fucks him against a wall. Max is hot, like burning hot, not just metaphorically, his sink almost burns Daniel, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. And holy hell, the things he does while Daniel is buried deep inside of him, it’s still banned in some states. He wants to do that for the rest of his life.

They break a sink in their third round. Daniel is pretty sure the lights have flickered when he comes on their fourth fuck. They’ve trashed the place, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.

It’s the best sex he’s ever had, in his 569 years. It was mind-blowing, so filthy and hot he’ll only think about it for the next hundred years to come.

He doesn’t want it to be a one-time thing, It was too good not to do it again. This would mean letting a demon in his club, which is still against the rules, but Daniel can bend or break them, especially for Max.

“Maybe you have an address I can send a raven to, you know, in case-” Daniel starts.

The men's restroom slams open and Max is out the door.

“Here, I’ve found a wonderful group of widows who’ve just come here to party. I know you like those.” Blake tells him when Daniel comes back into the club.

He’s not hungry.

He locks himself in his office during the whole weekend, misses all the festivities and special guests and only leaves when the party has died down two days later. Maybe he should be less of a romantic and more ruthless, that would spare him the heartache.

******

“I see you still got the same security guard.” A voice Daniel recognises says on a quiet weekday night. “Or did you lift the ban on demons now?”

“Demons???” another voice whispers under their breath, so frightened.

Daniel turns around to meet Max. He doesn’t look sorry, or happy to be here.

He’s got company, a freshly engaged couple, it’s written on the woman’s badge she wears on her chest. They are cute, typically American, just like Daniel likes them. They are holding each other's hands, standing close to each other, he’s trying to protect her. It’s so fucking cute.

“Who are your friends?” Daniel asks him, without even greeting Max.

“This is uhm…” Max can’t seem to remember their name. “Josh and Malaury, they’ve got engaged. Take it as a kind of apology present.”

“Aww, really?” Daniel asks, softened by the thoughtful attention. Max shrugs. “Well come on guys, let me get you something to drink.”

He invites the couple over to a table and watches them relax after they’ve down their drink. Josh kisses Malaury’s temple, and Daniel can’t help but sigh. They are too adorable. Max snorts and looks at him.

“What the fuck was that?” He asks.

“They are too cute. I can’t kill them!” He argues, bashing his big brown eyes at him.

“I can. If you want to. Snap their neck or some shit like this.”

Josh has tensed up again but doesn’t look their way. Daniel looks unsure.

“I don’t have feelings, so it’s fine, of course. It won’t affect me.” He adds.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He says.

In two swift crack of their necks, Max puts an end to the couple’s life and sit back down next to Daniel watching him drink out of their neck.

It’s exquisite. The best thing Daniel has ever tasted.

“Oh yeah. It’s because they are dumb fucks actually in love.” Max replies, sipping on his strong gin and tonic.

“How do you know? Do you taste blood often?”

“No, it’s their feelings.” He rolls his eyes at that. “Stupid people taste like fast food, depressed one are very bland, assholes, well you know, that’s where they got the name, of course. Entitled people are spicy.”

“I haven’t had spicy food in centuries,” Daniel tells him, trying to remember what it tastes like.

“Still hungry?”

They hunt Vegas at nightfall. The Bellagio is crawling with them. The reception staff gladly let Max handle some of the worst situations. He knows this place by heart, lives there even.

Daniel looks excited when he brings him the first one. She starts yelling at him because Max told her Daniel was the manager. He covers her mouth before sinking his teeth into her neck. The first sip is always the best, it tingles on his tongue. He loves it.

They become a team. Max does the hunting during day time and brings the prey to the nightclub. He brings more people in, and the business just grows. So they cut a deal. Max gets 10% of the earnings of the bar. Daniel gets Max.

They have an obscene amount of sex when they are not working, everywhere, causing damage almost every time. It’s always incredible, and Daniel can’t get enough.

Daniel doesn’t feel jealous of Michael and his 68-year-old wife anymore. He’s got someone now, his soul mate, that sometimes goes to sit in a church, confesses all of his sins just to upset God and outrage the priest, and then runs out of here, amused at the chaos he’s created, grabbing Daniel’s hand so they run away together.

All of Daniel’s dinners are now selected based on what he wants, Max always picks the best for him, old or young, healthy or dying. He has no remorse for ending a life, however good it could have been. He does it for the kicks, he does it for Daniel.

Time flies, and soon Max and Daniel celebrate their ten years of partnership at the club. That night Michael’s wife dies in her sleep, unexpectedly. Daniel has to watch his friend suffer all over again. He hates every part of it, and regrets being selfish all these years ago when he thought having his best friend by his side was the best idea. He could have spared him the grief, the ache, the longing for someone that will never come back.

In a couple of months, maybe a year, or two, Michael will say it was worth it, that he at least got to live all those years with her, that he got to love someone so deeply he can’t forget her.

It resonates with Daniel, he can understand now, why you’d put yourself through all the heartbreak because the person brings you so much more for so long. The loneliness has gone, there isn’t a day where Daniel isn’t with Max. They fight, mostly when Max is bored. But they make up, and it isn’t just some world-shattering sex, there is tenderness too. He loves him, deeply, he has for a long time now.

Daniel feels sick to know he could lose it all. If Max dies, he’ll walk off and wait for the sun to rise.

He never studied anything about vampires or any other creatures he encountered. He’d never met a demon before Max. He doesn’t know how long they live, or what could kill them. He regrets never doing that.

“I can hear you think,” Max says when they are in bed, legs tangled together. Daniel listening to his beating heart. “Spill it out.”

“I’ve always wondered how long demons live.” He confesses.

“No you haven’t,” Max replies, honestly. “This is about Susan, isn’t it?”

“No.” he lies.

Max shakes his head.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

He does. Unlike Daniel, Max looks a little bit older now.

“You know I’m older than you, of course?” It’s meant to be a fact, something that was there, just under Daniel’s nose. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He holds Daniel closer, his heart swelling when he feels Daniel smiling against his chest.

#sunday fic #maxiel #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #juddyswriting #maxiel fic #vampire au #very much inspired by Nadja's club and Nandor's personality from What we do in the shadows

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icarusredwings · 1 month ago

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This only fits into my idea that Wolvie is demi. Sure he knows someones hot when he sees them but he dosn't really... feel anything.

He's been alive so long that people doing stuff to him just feels... kind of annoying at this point? Like yeah, okay, in Logan the drunk wife girl flashed her tits at him and he snorted, and rolled his eyes all embaressed but I don't think this counts as "hot and bothered." I think this counts as "omg lady calm down lol im just the driver lol" he did think it was a nice gesture but its an empty gesture and thats why it dosn't really do anything for him.

I think this is why he and Kurt get along so well (HERE ME OUT) Because one of kurts biggest "flaws" is that he is extremely touchy, and while the other x men cant touch logan much or lean on him, sit on him, etc, Kurt can full pearch on him and Logan dosn't care. Actually he does care. He's glad. He's happy that Kurt feels this safe with him. Happy that he feels comfortable enough to be around "the angry guy with claws". Happy that Kurt openly gives him affection without there being this weird "okay now we have to fuck" silent agreement. Logan is so tired of trying to get to know someone, cuddle them and hug them, without them immediately expecting them to sleep together. (*JINGLES KEYS* Stay with me!)

And i mean... no.. hes not sex repulsed clearly but it dosn't feel right in his chest. To fuck someone and then they leave. Wolverines mate for life so I think the thing is, what gets him hot and bothered is proving youll stay. Sticking it out with him through all times, telling him you're never going to leave him.

Then- Oh good golly then? Everything is horny worthy. You could just be sitting there and he'd get all pissy because now hes horny and mad about it. You could cassually bring him food and say you thought he might be hungry and he'll let the food get cold because hes too busy fucking you, and then eat the food after to show gratitude and appreciation.

Logan is not meant for hook up culture. He is made for "Our souls are so intertwined that seperating us would put a tear in the universe."

He could see someone whole ass naked and just blink and ask where their clothes went. You could tell him that you want him to do the dirtiest things and he'd probably just blush and think you have alternate motives.

I like to think that he does sometimes finally accept a hook up here and there simply because A. Why not. He hasnt been held in awhile and B. Why not he's literally gonn live forever might as well get some tail if they're offering.

But if and when he finds that person(s) he's locked in. Theres nothing no one else could do that would make him all hot and bothered. Someone could literally give him a lap dance and hed probably just sit there confused as hell, tell them stop, or just leave. It doesn't do anything for him at all.

Now litsen (at least in Finding Home Au, cause theyre married) Wade could come slip into bed with him, very gently rub his arm, kiss him goodnight, then cuddle into his back and Logan would automatically sit up and glare at him cause now hes hard.

"Why do you keep doing that?! Stop!"

And wades all confused "stop what?" Cause hes genuienly tired, but too bad cause Wolvie puts that baby to sleep a different way. (Best sleeps of his life btw)

Morph too, I feel like in 97 morph gets a lot of passes for jokes and touchiness. I also feel like that for the first week (maybe a month idk logan is dumb) or so logan thinks moprh is joking and dosnt actually care about him in that way, so morph starts saying more genuine and sensitive things to him and Logan now is actually blushing, still in denial but is catching butterflies, hoping that morph isnt lying but is too scared to make a move, worried their friendship will end.

Man idk what to say about storm. Logan was hot for storm the first time she punched him in the face. Idk what to tell yall, hes a simp for that woman and I am too so like I get it. Id be terrified to fuck storm though if I was litTERALLY MADE OF METAL like bruh he has more balls then me cause id be scared shed kill me after I ate her out by electrocuting me with my skull crushed between her thighs. ANYWAY

🫡🫡GLORRRY GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE 🪖🪖💪

I think Logan would be very difficult to get hot and bothered. Like. He's been through so much yanno?

Like flash a titty at this man and he'll probably be like, "what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? Can't you take me to dinner first?"

#wolverine #logan howlett #logan james howlett #logan #xmen 97 #kurt wagner #deadpool and wolverine #nightcrawler #moprh #kevin sydney #ororo munroe #storm #glory glory what a helluva way to die #thunder thighs literally

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lokiitty · 4 years ago

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https://screenrant.com/loki-show-sylvie-romance-incest-backlash-director-response/ Okay but this is super weird because... For a start she pretty much says the fans interpretation of it as incest isn’t invalid and for a second her own interpretation of it doesn’t really explain why its not incest in her eyes and furthermore it contradicts a lot. We’re told countless times that Loki and Sylvie are “”the same.”” Shes literally a variant of him. I would have been content to NOT see it as incest if they hadn’t made sure to let us know (in easter egg form) that Sylive and Loki share like a genetic origin. She doesn’t come from some way out alternate universe where everything is different. She comes from a sister universe where Loki was born female. She has the same parents as Loki and if her timeline wasn’t pruned she would have the same family.

The only other thing that makes her “different” from Loki is obviously the fact that her upbringing was different after the TVA orphaned her and she had to raise herself. That doesn’t change her origins. She can’t just rename herself and suddenly shes not Loki anymore and changing her first name doesn’t change the fact that she still has the same parents as Loki. Like Id love to see this as not incest too but when you put them both down on paper as the children of Laufey its hard to ignore. Like if her family didn’t get pruned imagine this: Frigga your son is in a relationship with your daughter. Thor your brother is in a relationship with your sister. Lauefy your biological daughter is in a relationship with your biological son. ?????? But this is suppose to be ignored because they’re from a different universe even when the universes only real difference is one is male and the other is female???? There is no obviously drastic difference that indicates a different origin like what is the case with Alligator Loki and maybe even boastful Loki. I mean you could at least argue boastful Loki might have had different parents to Main!Loki or at least ONE different parent. Alligator Loki is a no brainer because hes a completely different species. On top of ALL THIS we were told multiple times in canon that Loki and Sylvie’s relationship was wrong. Sick. Twisted. Demented. Unnatural. Ect. This obviously comes from the characters recognising that Sylvie and Loki are in fact too closely related to be trying to hook up. Though they’re variants of the same person they’re also basically boy-girl twins.

Having different personalities and different goals and upbringings does absolutely nothing to change that. Me and my brother have different personalities, goals and even upbringings in places because he lived with my mum for a portion of his life and I didn’t. But guess what?? We’re still siblings LMAO. Like I’m sorry her explanation is UTTERLY BIZZARE & makes NO SENSE. Get me wrong I don’t think Loki & Sylvie's “”romance”” is sustainable. I wouldn’t think it was even if it was written better. I don’t see it lasting and in fact I kind of think its already ended. But this is still so weird. And the way the canon handled this ““romance”“ was so forced and half hearted.

I seriously cannot get my head around why it was ever there. Like I thought maybe it was another part of the writing team trying to indicate to us that it was wrong but with Kate saying this now I’m just ???? Also don’t like to think Loki would just casually engage in incest / any cest period and before anyone sprouts shit about the Horse Story A) Did not happen in the MCU and B) the whole horse story is born of a specific sort of homo/transphobia that existed in ancient Nordic culture, do some research. But like ??? if they could give me a SOLID understandable reason for why its not BASCIALLY incest I’d eat it up bc IF I HAVE TO HAVE SYLKI as canon ID REALLY love for it to at least not be Incest. Then maybe I could be “”okay”” with it. Id still have my problems with it because theres just a LOT of awkwardness even outside of the too-close-to-siblings for comfort, but it wouldn’t be a completely untouchable relationship. You could imagine it being OKAY if it was written better and not seemingly used to censor Lokis queerness but.

Like really the least they could have done was been like “Sylvie had totally different parents”. Its an AU. Sylvie's parents could have been anyone. Any frost giants could have stood in Lafuey’s place. If its a different universe the royal Jotun family could have been totally different. But no, no one wanted to use their brains for ten seconds and just rushed together this cringe m/f presenting romance with no deeper thought because yawn. Obviously Frost Giant Laufey doesn't have to be your father for a Loki to be a Loki (again see Alligator Loki ) And thats another reason why I’m pissed with this whole series. Because its just sloppy with little thought for anything. Now those of us who arent painfully straight and arent 2012 era fangirls who are just seeing Sylvie as a self-insertion vessel to vicariously live out their wishful fantasies of having Loki fall hopelessly in love with them, have to sit here and bang our heads on the wall bc none of it makes sense and its tragic for both characters and Loki’s actual fanbase. Just.

#loki series #loki fandom #loki show #loki laufeyson #sylvie laufeydottir #anti sylki #loki series discourse #antisylki #can i get an f in the chat FOR EVERYONE

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 4 years ago

Text

Sonic X Theory: the other Ultimate Lifeforms

In Sonic X’s adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2, they make an interesting claim about the Ultimate Lifeform prototypes on the ARK. When Rouge hacks into the base, she informs Shadow of one thing- he wasn’t the only prototype from Project Shadow that escaped the ARK massacre.

[ID: screenshots from Sonic X: one of Rouge looking up Project Shadow, surprised and reading “Shadow? Secure and dispose?” Another shot of two escape pods falling towards a planet, with the caption from a GUN soldier: “Our mission ended when we sealed away the prototype of the ultimate lifeform.” End ID.]

Rouge makes the claim that neither of these escape pods was Shadow... so in X Canon, is Shadow even who he thinks he is? And just as importantly... who are the other prototypes?

Full theory under the cut.

So first off. Let’s look at Rouge’s claim that Shadow isn’t who he thinks he is.

Part One: Is Shadow from the ARK?

[ID: screenshots from Sonic X of Rouge and Shadow talking, with the following dialogue:

Rouge: This is the progress report for Project Shadow, a plan to create the ultimate life form. The body they created is still held there.

Shadow: I know. That’s a prototype. I’m the Ultimate Lifeform they created afterwards-

Rouge: Two capsules were ejected when the ARK was shut down. But neither was found. They couldn’t lock up in prison what they couldn’t find. Do you understand? I wonder who you really are.

Shadow looks troubled. End ID.]

So two capsules were ejected and neither was found in the fifty years it’s been since the accident-- except I think Rouge is wrong about one thing. Shadow is who he thinks he is- because his capsule was sent out alone. It must have somehow not been logged.

How do we know this? Shadow’s flashback of being sent away and the man who worked for GUN are completely different- first of all, the GUN soldier doesn’t remember her saying anything to Shadow, or Shadow even being there- it seems that she died to send away something or someone else. Second- Maria is in a different position around the lever in both flashbacks. See the GUN soldier’s first--

Though we don’t see the full room, we get the sense that it’s small from the other shots that I don’t have the time to screenshot. She’s around an elevated platform not attached to a wall, and either facing the pod she’s sending away or in a completely different room.

But, both of Shadow’s alternate memories of Maria sending him away-- the first one more stylized, the second one we can assume more real-- neither looks like this.

In both, she’s in a differing position. In the sepia flashback, she’s not facing him, and pulling a lever attached to a wall. In the second flashback, she’s already on the floor, and the lever pad we see would cause her to be facing away from Shadow. In neither of these do we see any evidence that anyone other than Shadow and Maria are in the room or even nearby.

Shadow also has enough evidence he’s who he thinks he is- he has the right powerset, the GUN soldier says that they did, indeed, seal away an Ultimate Prototype, Gerald mentions Shadow enough in his monologues, and... honestly there’s really no evidence that he isn’t Shadow, other than the two pods. And two pods? Shadow was sent out alone, we saw no evidence of a second pod in either flashback. So he wasn’t with anyone else.

So what’s the conclusion? The conclusion is that these are two different events- one where Maria releases Shadow, and one where she releases another- or, possibly, the others, the two pods that were logged as escaping.

Maria either freed Shadow first and then the other two, or she freed the first two, got shot, and then managed to survive long enough to send Shadow away. Either way-- these events are separate.

So what was in the other two pods? Two other prototypes of the Ultimate Lifeform, clearly, but nothing like the Biolizard, they’re too small.

Now let me ask you something... wouldn’t it make sense for the Ultimate Prototypes to look similar, if they were similar lifeforms?

And who do we know who looks similar to Shadow?

Part Two: Sonic is an Ultimate Lifeform

[ID: Shadow looking down at Sonic, and saying, “I see. We actually do look alike. It’s like looking in a mirror.” End ID.]

Okay so like. Unless you’re very colorblind I think you’ve noticed that Shadow and Sonic are completely different colors. But let’s ignore that for now-- they do have a very similar silhouette... in fact, Shadow’s silhouette is incredibly close to SuperSonic, which is Sonic at full power. And in-universe, they look similar enough that in low lighting pretty much nobody can tell them apart.

And not just that- Sonic has a lot of power for a seemingly “normal” mobian. [Yes, I know they don’t use the term “Mobius” in Sonic X but let me simplify this somehow.] His superspeed, ability to survive so much shit... he’s powerful enough that he presents a rival for Shadow without chaos emeralds (though Shadow is nerfed a little by the Inhibitor Rings- more on that later).

[ID: Sonic and Shadow racing; they are keeping up with each other. Shadow says, “It seems your appearance isn’t the only thing that’s similar to me. Who are you?” Sonic responds, “I’m me.” End ID.]

Shadow’s right- their appearance isn’t where the resemblance stops. And of course there’s probably the most damning similarity-- they are the only two characters we see go Super and have the ability to control the Chaos Emeralds.

[ID: First image is SuperSonic and SuperShadow, having absorbed the power of the chaos emeralds. Second image is from the Third Season, where a MetaRex shouts, “There are two individuals [referring to Sonic and Shadow] who can draw out the power of the Chaos Emeralds?” End ID.]

Oh and SPEAKING OF Sonic/Shadow similarities-- there’s a scene in Season Three where Sonic is being lectured by the villain about how all life ends eventually so why bother etc. and Sonic says that life is worth the good bits, all that jazz. Here’s the scene:

youtube

And exactly 1:25 in.... guess what starts playing

youtube

This song is scarily similar to “Recollection of the Ark”... Shadow’s sad song about his memories of the ARK... while Sonic is being lectured about still having faith in humanity. You know. Like MARIA WANTED.

Interesting how we know absolutely nothing about Sonic’s past, huh-- pretty much all we have before he meets Tails is that he says he’s fifteen years old, but honestly... are we even sure about that? First of all, if Sonic was revived alone, there wouldn’t be a way to tell his age, he’d probably just accept the first age someone assigned him.

Alternatively, we know from the end of Season Two and the beginning of Season Three that time works in a very wonky way from Earth to Mobius- in the ~2-3 days Sonic’s alone with Chris, a week passes on Mobius, despite the fact we know he can chaos control at any time. In the third season? Six years pass on Earth while six months pass on Mobius. So time doesn’t really work in a reasonable way, meaning it’s possible that Sonic is fifteen... and he lived fifteen years on Mobius after awakening, while fifty years passed on Earth.

And we know for a fact that travel between Mobius and Earth was possible even before the events of Season One... because Eggman was born on Earth.

[ID: Eggman looking shocked and turning around in a chair, announcing, “I was born in this world!” End ID.]

Eggman was born on Earth and somehow ended up on Mobius-- but he was young enough he didn’t realize until he saw that Gerald lived on Earth. So was he in the second escape pod? It’s possible, but I don’t think so-- he’d have to have information on Gerald, and it seems he had a picture of Gerald and Maria, so it’s likely he traveled with a parent or guardian, or at least some kind of family history, which I doubt Maria would think to store in an escape pod while everyone was running for their lives. This plot element was probably just to set up that travel between the dimensions happens more than we think.

Neither escape pod from the ARK was recovered, probably because they ended up on Mobius.

It’s most likely that they Chaos Controlled into the other dimension-- I know I said Maria probably wouldn’t think to store anything other than the lifeform themselves in the pod, but if the lifeform needed Chaos Emeralds to practice/control their powers, or the Chaos Emeralds were already stored in an escape pod for safekeeping-- or if, possibly, GUN was attempting to capture the Chaos Emeralds as well, and the Robotniks knew that they would use them in a destructive way-- all that combined could mean that the emeralds would also be important enough to send away in a pod.

If even one of the pods had Chaos Emeralds, it’s possible that the lifeform inside could have sensed danger and unconsciously teleported them to the most safe place from GUN-- another world where GUN didn’t exist and couldn’t reach them. And even better-- a world where mobians like them lived.

From Sonic X lore that I don’t have the time to find and screencap, we know that the two worlds used to be the same but split at some point in history. If this was after, say, the events of Chaos destroying the Echidnas-- which, sidenote, interesting how they disappear and nobody knows where they went, so it’s possible that Chaos straight-up split the dimensions just to get rid of the Echidnas-- then enough of their lore could remain. Old cave paintings, wall carvings, etc., could show enough mobians that scientists could probably think “oh, wow, that looks like a god figure. might as well design our ultimate lifeform after that, esp since they had this god that could control chaos and the chaos emeralds came from here.”

Wanna know what’s interesting about those ancient echidna temples? Guess who’s there-- if we go by Sonic 3 & Knuckles, a game that ofc had been released by the time X was being written...

SuperSonic.

Both the ultimate form of Sonic, and the silhouette of Shadow.

So let’s say they find this on the ARK studies, and they’re like “okay so our ultimate lifeform goal is a hedgehog. Got it.” There’s two options after this:

They make Sonic, but deem him a failure for reasons and cryo-freeze him until they need him or can release him. They then proceed to make Shadow, who they believe actually is their ultimate lifeform.

They made Shadow first, but after a while kept experimenting and making more prototypes, just in case, or possibly because they decided Shadow wasn’t powerful enough. However, the prototypes weren’t ready to awaken before the ARK massacre, Shadow never met them.

So as I’ve made clear, I’m pretty sure that one of those prototypes was Sonic-- who, of course, has no idea. Either he only entered consciousness after arriving in Mobius, or his memories of the ARK were so vague, traumatic, early, or a combo, that his mind blocked them out. Either way, it doesn’t matter, what matters is that he and Shadow are both prototypes, which is what gives Sonic his power.

And Sonic’s power, btw, isn’t limited like Shadow’s. Because he doesn’t have inhibitor rings.

If prototype!Sonic was sent away with inhibitor rings, he ditched them. Which would make sense, especially if he woke up with no memory of the ARK and didn’t know why these weird bracelets were on his arm. He would notice that the rings slowed him down and ditch them fast. And that’s assuming they even stuck rings on the prototype.

But if we do assume they stuck rings on the prototypes... maybe we can find the other lifeform that was sent away along with Sonic.

Part Three: Who is the Third Ultimate Lifeform?

Okay. Let’s do a headcount.

Who, in Sonic X,

Existed on Mobius at the same time as Sonic,

Doesn’t appear to have a lot of power but has a lot of incredible strength if you pay attention,

Sometimes shows strange abilities, such as far leaps into the air, a speed great enough that they can sometimes catch up to Sonic (though not as great, possibly because of the inhibition), even potentially the ability to summon weapons out of thin air,

Looks similar to the Mobian Hedgehog-- or, perhaps, with influences from a Mobian Echidna, who were the ones who had the SuperSonic glyphs in the first place, and thus could potentially serve as a design point,

Wears rings around their wrists at all times?

[ID: Amy Rose being absurdly powerful in several screencaps, often glowing; though this is normal anime expressionwork, it is something that exclusively happens to Amy in Sonic X. End iD.]

And, of course, this beauteous moment:

[ID: A scene from the season two finale of Sonic X. Eggman’s ship, on which Amy’s hammer is stuck, is high above her, and Eggman taunts “It doesn’t matter if you’re angry because your hammer is stuck up here!” In the following image, a moving gif, Amy summons a hammer out of thin air, a puff of smoke coming from it, as she is still glowing with a fire-like energy. Eggman’s robots shout “She has another one! How many does she have?” End ID.]

That’s right! This was all an excuse to spout out my “Amy Rose could kill God” propaganda! But it’s not propaganda if I’m right!

Part Four: The Lifeforms

So. It’s been a couple months since I made this post, but I was rewatching Sonic X with my sister, and we did notice that you do see prototype lifeforms for a flash in the GUN soldier’s story.

[ID: Screenshots from Sonic X; The GUN soldier narrates his story, as we see GUN soldiers arresting scientists, while standing in front of empty tubes of bubbling green liquid. The caption reads, “There were many rumors about ARK. Such as doing research for eternal life or creating the Ultimate Life Form.” The GUN soldier steps to a tube that has something in it. End ID.]

We see a brief flash of an experimental lifeform in this memory, as seen above; we also see two more, the ones that were explicitly stated to be the ones Maria was freeing.

[ID: Screenshots from later in the same episode of Sonic X, the first showing two tubes with dark figures inside, surrounded by dark blue bubbling water. The next screenshot shows Maria preparing to free them, with the captions reading “An experimental life form? She’s planning to free it!” End ID.]

So, these silhouettes. Let’s uh. Let’s take a look at those huh

Now, the bodies are too thick to be standard mobian bodies- but we can also see wires attached to the prototypes, as well as, you know, whatever that liquid is. It’s entirely possible there’s something wrapped around their bodies, to keep them safe/asleep/etc.

But..... ok so I might be reaching here but analyzing the face silhouettes, using red lines to mark quills and green to mark potential laid-back ears, it really could be long-quilled sonic and short-quilled Amy.

As well as this, in the shot of the GUN soldier looking at a prototype, I swear I can see a mobian ear.

tl;dr this is all fascinating me and I think we should let the Sonic X crew return to making this show as if they never left so that we can get answers to this

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic x #shadow the hedgehog #sonic adventure 2 #amy rose #mine #connie theories #connie writes

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years ago

Text

The Hard Things

Doing the right thing is never easy. Calum and Freya have a lot going for them. But what happens when fear gets in the way.

Inspired by I Follow Rivers by Marika Hackman and Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.

Calum X Black Female OC.

I cried once writing this. 7.4k words. Angst. Just angst and sarcasm.

@notinthesameguey is personally responsible for this. So blame her.

The Hard Things--Alternative Ending

Masterlist (on semi hiatus)

___________________________________

If Freya were going to be honest, she would admit that the second she saw Calum and his friends walk into the building she knew things were going to be bad. But Freya’s not being honest. Because being honest would almost include admitting just how too easy it was that day. How if those particular sequences of events hadn’t happened that specifically, then she wouldn’t be here--trying not to watch the quiver in his chin or the way he blinks rapidly. Then she wouldn’t be trying to forget the way his voice quakes.

But they did happen in that particular order. On a Thursday afternoon, he and his friends walked through the door. And here, here at this part, it’s easy to be honest.

Honestly, she is staring--way too hard and way too long at the rag-tag gaggle of people, but especially the man pulling up the rear of the group with a bright red hat snug on his head and covering his eyes, though not even the brim can hide the plump full lips pulled up into a tiny grin at something that must’ve been said. Because another guy, this one fairer-skinned in a hat too and a baggy t-shirt is also laughing. And of course, this group would enter just as Tre stepped away to check on the lanes already throwing. Vanessa wasn’t too far from the desk, but she was trying to help some parents figure out when they could schedule an event for someone’s birthday in the coming weeks.

This only leaves Freya as the only person available right now until rounds were completed to handle any new patrons. With a glance down to the clock on the computer, she could see that a couple more folks would be coming back to the front at any point. But clearly, that point wouldn’t come quick enough.

“Hi,” Freya greets flicking her gaze back up to the group with a quick smile. It’s the training. The fact that more than once she’d been told that customers liked her, especially the way she gave instructions but she needed to smile more. And if this weren’t the job keeping her afloat during her time of getting her degree, in addition to the administrative desk work she did at the university, she would leave here in a heartbeat. Possibly even in the blink of an eye. Whichever was faster.

“Hey! We were hoping you had a couple of lanes for us.”

Freya counts the head. “Just you seven?”

The guy that spoke initially turns the man in the back with the bright red hat on. “Still no word from her?”

The guy shrugs. “Don’t sweat it.” And Freya clings to every syllable. The almost sleepy drawl to his voice lined with a twinge of an accent. She can’t place it at first. But all of them share slight variations in it. The man in the red hat’s voice is low but smooth.

“Yeah just the seven of us,” a taller man pipes in.

“Okay, we can only have two people throwing on a lane at a time. I can put you on neighboring ones but we’ve got very strict rules about how many people can throw at a time.”

There’s a murmur amongst the group but eventually, it comes back to Freya that they’re okay with it. She runs down the safety rules, the forms they have to form out, and checks their IDs. She notices the man with the red hat’s name is Calum and though she knows she shouldn’t, she tries to commit it to memory. It won’t last long. She forgets names all too fast, but she never forgets a face.

“Nessa, watch the desk for me!” Freya calls out as she collects the cases with the axes and directs the party to their lanes. There’s a table for convening and a separate for the axes to rest. “Alright,” she starts with a quick whistle to settle the group. They get chatty but are quick to turn their attention back to her. “I don’t want to kick anyone out, but I will. So one last recap of the rules.”

When Freya finishes, she has the entire group repeat the rules back to her. When they return it to her all correctly, she smiles. “I appreciate y’all already. There are several range officers. They monitor carefully from several posts,” and she points them out as she speaks. “The shift rotates out in an hour. Meaning you’ll have to pause let the old shift go and let the new shift jump in. You’ll hear beeps to signal you to stop and start. If you have any other questions or concerns, you can find me at the front or a range officer. And we’ll be happy to help. Let’s keep all fingers, toes, extremities, and eyeballs intact and we can have a great day together. Enjoy.”

Usually, in her safety spills and best way to throw, Freya makes sure to keep eye contact with everyone in the group. However, she places a purposeful gaze on Calum when she tells them to enjoy. It’s reckless--she knows that. A little flirting hasn’t hurt her. Besides, she knows the moment she walks away, he’ll forget about her. They always did and she likes it like that. Flirty enough to keep good reviews, but never too flirty to insinuate anything more.

In her departure, Freya feels eyes on her, lasting longer than usual. And maybe she put more emphasis behind the swish of her hips and maybe she hoped it was Calum watching her walk away. But she doesn’t dare turn around. No matter how much she hopes in a fleeting second that maybe she had flirted just a little too much, Freya does not turn around to confirm or deny anything.

Back at the front desk, Freya takes a look at the cameras. Anyone at the front can see the lanes too--it’s for safety when you have live blades. Her gaze travels over each one though just out of the corner of her eye she catches the bright red hat. A few guys clasp him on the back but she can’t hear whatever else is said. The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. As people leave, few come in to replace them. The weekend will be busier--it always in. And Freya knows that soon too, once the afternoon becomes evening things will pick up just a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Everything okay?”

Freya barely sees who it is talking before they’re out of the door. Calum, phone pressed to his ear. She watches him for a beat as he paces near the front windows of the establishment. Her gaze doesn’t linger long before something on the floor catches her eye. She sees it’s black and square. When she gets closer it looks like a wallet. Clearly used and loved by the creases in it. She glances back up to Calum to see him still on the phone and peeks at the ID just to make sure who it belongs to.

With the blank stare of Calum’s ID photo looking up at her, Freya takes it back behind the desk. She’ll wait until he gets off the phone. A minute or two later, the door chimes again with Calum reentering.

“Hey, you dropped this,” she calls out, stepping out from the desk to hold out the wallet.

Calum pats his pockets and a split second panic causes his eyes to go wide. “Oh shit, thanks. I-I didn’t even realize it fell out of my pocket.”

“No worries. Just glad to get it back to you.” Calum takes it and slips it into his pocket, hands patting the outside to make doubly sure it’s secure. “You guys doing okay back there?

“Yeah, we’re good. Though I think somehow the girls are kicking our asses.”

Freya smiles with a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “It’s power and finesse. You can tear down brick buildings but if you don’t get the release right so it’s not twirling over the axis too many times, you’ll come up with nothing.”

“So says the expert?”

Her cheeks heat for a second at the raised eyebrow Calum gives her. Running her tongue over her teeth to hide the smile, Freya nods. “Yeah, I’ve thrown an axe or two in my lifetime. So I guess that counts as me being an expert.”

Calum laughs. Whether it’s at her or not, Freya’s not sure. But she likes the sound of it. “Tell me what else the expert suggests.”

A moment passes where Freya’s watching his gaze. Wondering if an anime glint will twinkle over his brown eyes because it’s a smooth delivery. Smoother than some of the stuff she’s done. There’s no way he’s fucking real.

Freya takes a half step back, slipping through the threshold that separates the front desk from the main lobby and the hallway to the back where the lanes are set up. “This expert suggests that you try her advice and impress all your friends.”

“More finesse. In the wrist, right?”

“In the wrist.”

A shy smile is shared between the two of them. It borders telling everything and saying nothing at all, borders on giving away on how much Calum might’ve considered concocting a ruse just to get her attention and how much he did backtrack on his plan because it was his sister calling and that shocked him. The smile borders on Freya twirling the Havana twists around her finger and her rolling her eyes at Calum’s thinly veiled attempts at flirting.

Both of them are saved by the front door chiming and Freya gives a nod to Calum before turning her attention to the person now entering. But Calum watches the way she leans into the counter and smiles down at the small child standing next to their parent. “Oh my god, you’re getting so big,” Freya comments and then walks back around to settle next to them.

“No, Fre, I’m not bigger dan yesterday,” the kid responds.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Your dad will be out in just a second. Shift change had to wait for one more person. Anything cool happen at school today?”

Calum leaves then, though he can catch the small boy gush about the races he won at recess. It’s probably crazy of him to try and find some sort of way to come back here again soon, but Calum’s already trying to put together an excuse.

When Calum heads back to the front with the group, laughing at Michael’s utter disgust at the way the last few throws went, he does look for Freya. A girl with red hair is sitting at the desk instead. And though a little bit of disappoints settles into his stomach because he wanted to tell her how well her advice worked, he finds himself resolved and it wouldn’t be broken.

******

Calum told himself whatever Freya had to say during this talk wouldn’t break him. Hell, if he were honest, he didn’t think it would go like this. “You know, I used to say I was no good for people all the time,” Calum laughs. He sniffs hard and wipes his noses on the back of his nose. “It was a clean get-away line.”

“I’m not giving you a get-away line. I’m giving you the truth,” Freya returns.

“No, I’m-I’m not saying you’re giving me bullshit. You’re setting a boundary and a good one at that. I respect it. I’m just saying the irony. The same thing I used to tell others is coming back my way.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“I don’t regret it.” Calum shakes his head, not because he’s lying. But to emphasize his point.

*****

Calum doesn’t regret going to the Yelp, Facebook, or Instagram page of the business to see if she had liked it or appeared anywhere on their social media. And luck would have it, he manages to find her. The owners like to show off their employees. Their preferred form of employee appreciation appears, in Calum’s investigation, to be a quick bio of new employees along with a video of them throwing. He nearly misses Freya’s post because of his quick scrolls. The bottom of the page comes up quicker than the app could handle and just as the new page loads that he notices it. The thick twists and black lipstick sitting on her cool dark brown skin.

He doesn’t regret it when he followed the account that was tagged, or the message he sent her from his finsta, or the messages they exchanged for a few days. And he for damn sure can’t find himself to regret it when he came back to the place a couple of weeks later to see if Freya was working.

There’s no regret when she smiles at him and laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to test your theory yet again. It worked last time. But I want to make sure that it wasn’t beginner’s luck.”

“You doubt me. You dare doubt me? I’m offended.”

Calum laughs briefly as he leans into the counter of the front desk. “It’s more like I’m testing a theory. Making sure the results can be recreated.”

“Oh, I promise you my results are valid.” She reaches out for his ID and every so gently their fingers brush. Calum can’t tell if that’s intentional or not, but it doesn’t the slight shiver that runs down his spine. “So just you today, huh?” Freya continues on, grabbing a clipboard, some forms, and a pen.

“Just me.”

“Rest of your friends scared.” Her gaze falls to the stack she’s gathering, checking something off on the top page and then sliding the ID back to Calum.

“They’d probably laugh at me if they knew I was here.”

“Laugh at you?”

“Tell me--why do you think I’m here?”

A moment passes between them. Though it takes up more like several seconds, time feels froze as Freya studies his face. Calum wants to reach up and readjust his hat out of a nervous habit. He wants to take it back. But more than anything, he wants to know if he has a shot. If it’s worth really pursuing.

“I think you’re here to test a theory. Maybe, just maybe you’re here because of Vanessa too,” she smiles as it says. Like she knows that isn’t the truth but she doesn’t want to give into Calum.

And while it’s not the answer he was hoping for, Calum takes it. She wants to play a game and he can be down for that.

*****

She wants to reach out for his hands. They sit next to each other in the lounge chairs Calum keeps lined around his pool. But Freya thinks twice about it. The bulbs dangle above them casting an amber hue onto the water, a stark contrast to the twilight pressing evening closer to night’s full darkness. Freya does regret it. She regrets not leaving her teasing response just to testing a theory. She knew what Calum was fishing for, what he was hoping to confirm when he came back by himself.

Maybe it was just where she was then. Then she thought she could give more. Now she realizes she can’t. She likes it when she’s dating someone and they can decide on a random Sunday for errand runs. She likes having them around. And not that Calum wouldn’t be around. Tours didn’t happen all the time. But they did run long. And who the hell knows where she’d be in eight months after she graduated. Her life wasn’t stable--she wasn’t tied to the West Coast like Calum was.

Her life was full of variables. Ones that she didn’t really plan on trying to solve until closer to Christmas in the spring right before graduation. And she didn’t want to give Calum any more false hope. It wasn’t set in stone that she’d be staying in LA and it wasn’t set in stone that she could handle the long departures. Calum deserved someone that was more sure of themselves.

“I think having regrets is no good anyway,” Freya says, finally breaking the long silence between them. “Having them doesn’t change what happened anyway.” But that doesn’t change the fact that you still regret this, Freya thinks to herself.

“I used to believe love could overcome any obstacle.”

Freya turns to look to Calum and catches thhe way the stubble on his chin from the few weeks he’s gone without shaving halos just a little in the lights. “Used to? The right person, the right love--”

Calum shakes his head. “Now I think people loving me means that they love themselves and they can tell me what they want or need. No guessing. No games.”

“Still sounds a lot of a hell lot like overcoming obstacles.”

“But it’s not a dream. It’s tangible. It’s not me daydreaming up in the clouds. It’s me--right here. Right now. Knowing seeing what it means more than anything else that all the shit I was thinking of as a kid really needed just to be put on the ground level for me.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“I mean as much as it fucking sucks that you’re telling me no, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons. I-there’s like this thing with me. I watch people. I don’t walk into a room of strangers and become the center of attention. I don’t like people all that much, but I care. You know? I care about the people I put into my life and I want them to do well and succeed. I want what’s best for them. It’s not always easy to want that, but innately, I do, I think. Deep down I want what’s good for people. And maybe love is doing the hard things, you know.”

He pauses. Freya watches the way he drops his head, fingers threading through the curls. She keeps quiet. There’s something more, something deeper to the words. “And you’re doing the hard thing. Whether it’s for me or not is debatable,” Calum continues. “But I think love is doing the hard things.”

“You said that having some space was important to you. And while I understand that, like you do need to be your own person in a relationship--”

“Your reasons or how you want to justify it to yourself for me isn’t something I need. You already said that you know what you expect and like out a relationship and that the touring would be too hard for you. Set boundaries for you. What good does it do to justify it to me?”

“So you know I’m not being an asshole, Calum. For fuck sake.”

“No, no, I-shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--who are boundaries really for? What do they do?”

“I guess they do protect the person making them. But I’m not trying to be an asshole to you. I swear.”

Calum looks up from the cement of his background lining the pool to the glossy sheen coating Freya’s eyes. They’re black in the settling night. But Calum knows they’re more like a medium brown--dark enough to get lost in them, but when they catch the light just right, they can feel like an enchanting spell sucking him in.

“Freya, you are a sarcastic son of a bitch. But an asshole to those that don’t deserve it, never.”

She sucks on her teeth, swatting at his bicep. “Take that back.”

Calum leans onto his left elbow, closing the gap between them just a little. A smile lifts his lips gently. “Never.”

“We’ve both been burned. Is it bad I didn’t want that again?”

“No. I used to say love is a scam. So I don’t think I’m necessarily the poster boy for relationships.”

“But admit it, you hoped this was the one so you wouldn’t be the odd man out.” His brows furrow at her comment. Freya gives him a soft smile. “Two of the guys are engaged. But all three of them are in a relationship.”

He sighs, gazing dropping from her face. “Maybe I was hoping so. Is it bad of me to want to be in love?”

“No. I told some kids that my boyfriend was Shermar Moore,” Freya admits with a laugh. “I was working at a summer camp and one girl saw his picture on my phone. It was my lockscreen for the longest time. So I just went with it. Well, I was spurred in part because of Drew who was a fucking creep and wouldn’t leave me alone. But I did fantasize about it. Dream of being in love with some famous and the limelight. Shit at that point, I hadn’t even dated anyone either. So another part of it was a desire too.”

“Is that part of it too? Worried about what trolls and whatever will say?”

“Oh, no one who doesn’t know shit about it can make me get outside myself.” Freya laughs but reclines into the cushions of the chair. “But maybe it’s a little bit of it. That’s too many voices talking all about you. It’s a lot of noise and some of it has to bleed through you know. Even if you’re careful and you work not to take it in, some does, right?”

“I don’t think humans were created to be able to handle that much criticism or even love and adoration. Our brains can’t handle it. So yeah, a little bit seeps in. But you keep that door closed as much as you can. You talk to people that also get it. Fuck, you even get a therapist.”

“Or a dog,” Freya says before turning her head to watch Duke laying inside next to the back door.

“And a dog,” Calum corrects.

“Excuse me, you get a therapist and a dog.”

“Tell me something.”

“I’m listening,” Freya returns, looking back to Calum.

“Before you go tonight, tell me the thing you’re going to cherish between us.”

“Will you do the same?” Calum nods at the question but doesn’t respond verbally as he gazes at her.

“Do you want to answer now?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you to stay as long as you feel comfortable. And then when you leave, the parting thing we have is the good, the best of us.”

“What if I stay until dawn?”

“Then you stay until dawn. Though, I think it’s safe to say both of us will pass out by 3 AM.”

“That was the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done,” Freya laughs. Remembering the same she spent a Friday night after a shift at Calum’s place. He had a birthday party on Saturday along with a vet appointment with Duke. And then Sunday, Freya had we weekly lunch with her friends that she couldn’t miss. So Calum asked her if she wanted dinner Friday night at his place. Which she said yes to, but then it turned into them doing a movie marathon. Which then turned into Calum betting her that he could stay up longer than her. But they ultimately passed out around 3 in the morning on Calum’s couch.

“Thankfully, I did not miss Duke’s vet appointment that time,” Calum tacks on.

“Yeah, no thanks to me waking you up half an hour before it.”

“That darlin’ is what I call details.”

“No, I call that a very important fact,” Freya defends sitting up. “Duke would’ve been late twice if not for me.”

Calum giggles at her incredulous look. She always got heated fast, though she knew when it was serious things and when it wasn’t. “It wasn’t him paying for the visit.”

“So you ought to kiss the ground I’m standing on right now because you didn’t have to pay anything like a cancellation fee.”

“You’re not standing on any ground right-” the sentence doesn’t get the wind to complete itself when Calum watches her stand up. “Or maybe you are standing up.”

Freya hears him, but she gazes up to the sky. Trying to look past the twinkle of his backyard lights. There’s not much to see due to the light pollution. But the sounds capture her attention next. His neighborhood’s almost been mostly quiet. But with the twinge of the summer’s heat fading, Freya can hear the last bit of people outside. A dog barks into the night and there’s the crunch only tires on gravel and asphalt can give. There’s a hum in the night that Freya can feel in her bones.

It’s hard not to fall in love with the sounds of the night. It’s hard not to romanticize this, how possibly if things were different she could find herself at some point always standing in the middle of this backyard listening to the sounds of the night, having Calum beside her or maybe Duke when he’s gone and just letting herself go to the buzz. In all honesty, Freya craved stability. Always having something to come back was her dream. But in that dream it was a partner who would be there for every dinner. A shared space that was full with both of their presences.

“When you think about coming home what’s there?” Freya asks. “Like, in ten years, what’s in your home when you walk inside?”

Calum closes his eyes, bringing the picture to his mind’s eye. “Like, the truth of what I see?”

“The truth,” Freya confirms.

“Two kids, a dog for sure. Maybe two. A wife. A lot of laughs. Being knocked over with hugs. Maybe a movie that hasn’t quite been paused catches my ears. Maybe it’s summer and my mum’s over too. Because she wants to be around the kids as much as possible. And my sister--she comes over when she can too. So we have to figure out what to cook because it’s a family dinner night. I’m mostly likely in Australia. But I could be somewhere else. Just not LA. I don’t think I could have kids here.”

“That sounds lovely, Calum.”

“But I am scared. My parents divorced. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“That wasn’t your fault. And if we heal from our trauma before having kids then maybe some of our fears won’t come to reality.”

“And if it does.”

“Then we know the boogeyman is real and sometimes we can do our best but things that are meant to happen will still happen.”

“Your parents are divorced too, right?” Calum remembers her mentioning a distinction between her mother’s house and her father’s house. But she hadn’t outright stated that her parents were divorced, just alluded to it.

“Yeah. My dad remarried. He seems happy.”

“What about you? If you closed your eyes and thought about yourself in 10 years, where are you?”

“I technically asked what do you see in your home when you walk inside 10 years from now.”

“Oh, come off it,” Calum laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way.

“But,” she giggles and then closes her eyes. The breeze blows across her face and she lifts her chin up to catch as much of it as she can. Then she speaks, “I don’t know. Home’s full of the people I love. And I feel stable. I’m not worried about what I’m going to do weeks from now when something inevitably has to change. Because nothing’s going to change. Or at least, I’m not anticipating change. I think that’s what I’m sick of. I’m sick of dealing with change and constantly moving around and not knowing what the next year is going to look like. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and planning. I just want to be still.”

“You did the whole back and forth between houses, huh?”

“Yeah. I always felt like I was playing two versions of myself when I was younger. I had to be one way around my mother and one way around my father and according to my therapist, the constant games of charade fucked me up a little.”

“How often did you go between their houses?”

“Every weekend.”

Calum sucks in air through his teeth, “Yikes. Yeah, no wonder you want stability.”

“Oh, thank you Dr. Hood. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well this is a question so it’s not something you don’t know, but is the thought of me being gone for months at a time remind you of that? Like, you’d have to be one way while I was here and then another way when I was gone?”

Freya shrugs. But it’s right on the nose. “I’d have to learn to be with you and then be without you. And all I have are switches. No dimmers. I’m either on or I’m off. And I-I’m working on it. But I’ve got a long way to go.”

Calum scoffs, whispering mostly to himself. “All I have are switches. No dimmers.” It’s not a taunt to her. It’s not him blowing her concern off. It’s recognition that colors his tone. It’s the sigh when hearing something that connects so deeply it takes all the oxygen from lungs with it.

“And I swear to Christ, Calum, if you make a Lowe’s or Home Depot joke, I will extract your ankles from you right here right now.”

“Extract? What the hell?” Calum laughs.

“Broken ankles heal,” Freya returns with a smirk. Her face is lit mostly from above due to continued standing position but Calum catches the way her lips move.

“Remind me to really never piss you off. Between your ability to throw axes and the time you told me about putting ham on a girl’s car, I don’t think I want that kind of trouble in my life.”

“I only put the ham on the car because my friend was heartbroken and she was a cunt for cheating.”

“Yeah, see that’s what I mean,” Calum points out, his index finger swirling in a circle in front of her.

“I could’ve slashed her tires too.”

“I think ruining her paint job was more than enough.”

Freya places her hands on her hips, looking down at Calum. “I’ve got some anger issues too. Did I mention that?”

They laugh but Calum recovers first to speak. “I hadn’t noticed it before. Thank you for telling me that. But in all seriousness, Freya, the boundaries you have make sense. I hope you continue with therapy as well,” he states with a giggle. “But it’s not easy to look back at yourself and realize ‘Oh shit, maybe I don’t want that thing again because that actually fucking hurt’. And do something about it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“Thanks, Calum. And I will continue with this therapist for the rest of the school year because it’s free. Shoutout to some universities for having really accessible mental health resources.”

Freya finally sits, facing Calum. He keeps his gaze averted. But it doesn’t bother her. “What’s the intention behind telling me I can stay as long as I want? Is it to get me to change my mind? Just earlier both of us were near tears and now we’re walking down memory lane. Sharing things we hadn’t shared yet.”

“I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone. Selfish, right?” The tears are back, she can hear them in his voice.

“No. A bit of your masochism showing, certainly.”

“You ever know something’s bad for you, but you want it anyway? You want the pain anyway?”

“I mean considering both of us are littered tattoos, pain’s not something we’re too worried about.”

Calum wishes he didn’t laugh, not even the short burst of laughter. “Someone’s coping with humor.”

“Someone’s self flagellating.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want you to go. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”

“Maybe love is doing the hard things. You said that yourself.”

Calum swallows hard and his voice only comes out in a whisper. “I know I did.”

Freya blinks away the blur of tears. But as soon as they clear, more replace them. Her voice is tight as she speaks. “Doing the hard things suck though. Don’t think this is easy.”

“It’s because it’s the hard thing,” Calum returns. He wants to smile and manages to get a small one but he knows. Freya’s going to leave. She won’t stay.

“My favorite thing,” she starts and Calum exhales hard. There it is--the confirmation. The sentence gets caught in her throat so she pauses to clear it, work the tears down to at least speak. God, why couldn’t it have been easy. “My favorite thing between us, about us, whatever you want to label it as, is that we could also be honest. And even if it was burning waffles or ducking paps to watch a movie for an anime that you had no idea anything about because I wanted to go desperately and you had to Google a summary during the previews, we were always honest with each other.”

“I want to put it out there that you only told me that it was for an anime as I was buying the tickets. So I had zero time to prepare beforehand.”

“I told you the name of it the Monday before we saw it.”

“And admittedly, I forget it the second after you said it.”

“Fair enough, Calum. Fair enough.”

Calum spins in the chair and takes her hand. The first time they’ve touched today. Normally, Freya was more than happy to give out hugs but when Calum opened the front door, she have a half smile and stepped inside. If he could go back to earlier, he’d tell himself that was the first sign.

His thumb passes gently over the butterfly on her left hand. “The thing I’m going to cherish is that you made me feel sixteen again. My entire life changed at sixteen and I felt pretty invincible. I was also scared and excited. I was going to be in a band, like a one with lots of records and I don’t know--I only had that dream to believe in because I damn sure did not have a back up. It was before the downs. And I don’t regret the hard times either. But you’re the first person in a long time that gave me those butterflies. Assumed I was just never going to feel them again and I wasn’t a good person before, not as good as I could’ve been. But you gave me something to be good for again. Getting your text made my whole fucking day. And you-god, you cared about so many things. I bought books you recommended and couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. I remembered the kind of person I want to be. So thank you. For making me feel sixteen again in the cheesiest way possible but also in the best way possible too. That things are worth giving a shit for and that we can let people in and it won’t always burn.”

“Just a little sting.”

Calum nods. “Just a little sting.”

Freya brings his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the right one. Her sniffle is loud amongst the hum of the night. “If it weren’t for the fact that my eyeliner is tattooed to my face it would probably be running. I’m sorry it has to hurt at all. But-but I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Hopeful that we’ll get what we need out of life.”

He nods again, watching the tears track down her cheek. “We will.”

Her hands gently slip back out of his grasp and she uses the back of her wrist to press under her nose. The tremors shake her hands, so she shakes them before standing. Calum cranes his neck up, words about to fall from his lips. But she cups his cheek and smiles at him. “Don’t. There’s nothing else to say.”

It happens just as he blinks. He sighs, eyes closing to steel himself. Because there’s always so much else to say. And then her lips are pressing to his forehead. It last long enough for Calum to take hold of her thighs instinctively want to pull her in closer to him.

Then she’s gone. His hand slides down the rough denim and Freya’s walking to the edge of the backdoor. Duke picks up his head but doesn’t move much else. “Oh yeah, you don’t need to move. You know everyone comes to you, huh?” She gives him a few pats and scratches. “I’ll send you something for your adoption day, okay, love? And you might hate wearing it or you might love eating it. But be on the lookout for the mailman. He’ll have something from me.”

Calum doesn’t say anything as she says her goodbyes to Duke. She kisses the top of his head too and he thinks she might’ve whispered something else but he’s not certain from his spot on the chair. The swish of the tassels on Freya’s jeans signal her and the click of her heeled boots tell Calum she’s walking farther from him. The latch in the fence clicks and the wood around the hinges creak as she presses into the door. There’s a soft thud as the door shuts and then Calum can’t hear anything over the cough he uses to try and cover the tightness in his chest, can’t see anything in the blurry vision of his tears

She’s just gone.

******

When the front door bell sounds, Calum doesn’t think much of it. It could be a package or someone selling something. So he pushes up from the kitchen table and heads to the door. There on his porch is a light blue box with white bones on it. The subscription box that Calum gets already came. But then he notices an index card with a handwritten address on it. He picks it up. Right there in the return address is Freya’s name. He sucks in a breath and then looks to see who it’s addressed to: Duke Hood + Calum.

“Duke,” Calum calls out, stepping back inside to the house. He closes the door with his foot. The click of paws let him know the old man’s heard his call. “A little early birthday present has arrived just for you.”

He walks deeper into the living room and sets the box on the coffee table. Inside holds an olive green harness, treats, and a card. Calum laughs as Duke presses his snout against the bag of treats. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

Duke happily munches on one of the chews from the bag and Calum opens the card. A different letter slips out into his lap. He can see the ink and lettering pressing through to the other side. His heart hammers, but he forces himself to turn back to the card. “Dear Duke,” Calum pauses to see if Duke responds but his investigation continues on the treat. “I mean, fair enough.” Calum continues to read the card written by Freya, “Even though only the universe knows your true birthday, this card, harness, and bag of treats is meant to mark you sticking it out with your pops for yet another year. To spare you the grumps about a very cute hawaiin shirt I, instead, got a badass harness. Now you’ll be the coolest guy on the block. Happy Birthday/Adoption Day. With Love, Fre.”

Duke, done with the treat, looks to Calum and settles next in front of his folded legs. “Oh, so much work eating a treat.”

But Calum reaches down to gently pats at his tummy. The front of the car is cute, Calum finally recognizes. A cartoon white dog is drawn on it with large pink glasses against a yellow background. There’s no telling where she found it at. Calum looks down to the handwritten letter on printer paper. What would Freya possibly have to say?

Calum hadn’t had the guts to press send on any of the texts he drafted in the three months since they last talked. He wasn’t sure if he could. He is sure that if Freya hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, she would’ve said so, and she wouln’t have sent this box for Duke. His fingers tremble as he unfolds the letter.

Calum,

I figured you heard me tell Duke he was going to get a gift. And I knew I couldn’t not deliver on my promise to him. But I do apologize if it crosses any line. Please let me know too--if it crossed any boundaries.

I hope you’re well. Congrats on the latest album too.

With Love,

Freya.

P.S. I saw you a couple times drafting a text to me but never seeing one go through. And if you’re asking why I hadn’t sent a text either, know it was fear too. And me not being sure if keeping it open like that between us would only do more harm than good. So I’m sorry. But I am here, in the sense that to the best of my capacities, I can try to be here.

*****

Her bag’s slipping off her shoulders but she finally gets the key into the lock and gets her front door open. She sighs as she falls into the ugly blue apartment door and all but flings herself into her place. The stack of mail in her hands barely makes it to the edge of the kitchen counter too. It was just one of those days and Freya couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone had days like this.

Putting her keys up and getting her backpack next to the couch, she settles into the stools at the kitchen counter to sort through the mail. One’s a bill from the dentist she visited a few weeks back. The one thing her student health insurance didn’t cover. But she couldn’t complain.

There are few junk flyers that she immediately tosses. And it’s her name scrawled in a almost all caps that catches her eyes before she even gets finished with the rest of the pile. In the top corner for the return address she catches the name: Calum Hood + Duke

“Mail from Duke, what a surprise.”

But the real surprise is Calum’s name. It’s just a plain white envelope with a stamp and the city mark it was mailed from. Freya pops it open and sees a sheet of legal pad paper folded up.

Freya,

Thank you for Duke’s gift. The chews are a hit. The harness is much appreciated for our walks. Though, I think they’re more like walks for me. And Duke gets a little exercise in before he tuckers out. But I don’t fault him. No lines were crossed. So no need to worry about that.

I think I like the idea of mailing letters more than I do like texting. But I understand. Doing the hard thing sucks. It always has and always will. Do what you need to for yourself.

Thank you. I wouldn’t normally do this. But there’s a couple songs--they’re about you. I wanted to give you a warning before you listen to it. If you listen to it, I guess I should say.

Best of luck with your last year of school. You’ll have that Master’s in no time and then maybe soon you can take over the Library of Congress like all your evil plans have laid out. (I know, I know. Not what your Library Studies degree does. But I still think you should.)

With Love,

Cal

Freya chuckles at the Library of Congress comment. She picks up her phone and finds Calum’s thread. It’s easy to want to tell him that she can’t take over the Library of Congress and that she’s glad the treats went over well and that the harness was really more of an accessory to make sure Duke looks like a badass.

But she knows--she knows the ease got her into a pickle before. It’s why she stopped things before they got more serious. But was fear going to always predict what she was going to do in her life? Maybe the ease of things was a sign to continue. But if what if things got too far? WOuld be able to handle Calum being gone? Would she inevitably get her heart broken? And sure no amount of contemplation can predict things like this, but she did want to play with that risk no matter how fucking easy it was in the moment.

With a frustrated sigh, Freya drops her face into the forearms. Her phone is still in her grip with the movement. “It’s never fucking easy is it!” she shouts into her apartment.

There’s silence that engulfs her but it gives no response.

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rosesastrology · 3 years ago

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Hey rose, i was wondering if you could give your insight on something? There's this thing that I've been working on but i think i should cut my losses, however everytime i make up my mind to Bail i get some sort of sign that i shouldn't, angel numbers, tarot card readings on my feed, and i know tarot card on ur feed aren't always super accurate but almost all of them have the exact same message: don't quit bc its gonna pay off soon, and well TikTok is governed by an algorithm so i was starting to think it doesn't mean anything, but one psychic pulled out a card and the words she used to explain it were said to me almost WORD FOR WORD for this project, and I've been seeing like religious verses prop up that i strongly associate w this project..its like logically i should quit for my own mental well being and bc i don't ever see this problem being solved but the universe is telling me to stick it out..and i don't know what to makw of this. I don't want to quit it, id love for it to work out but idk if i have it in me to see it thru and when i logically look at it, i feel like that's the decision I'd make if i prioritised myself but idk maybe im wrong.. I'm not strong believer of astrology and the like, but I'm not disbeliever either i really don't know what to make of it.

Sorry for the super long post it kinda just came out and i rambled a bit, its fine if you can't be bothered with the whole thing,sending you love either way ! 💜

I read all of it & I'm thinking a couple of things.

One is that I'm curious to know whether or not these things popped up before and if you maybe didn't notice them because they didn't apply to you. It sounds to me like you're a bit stuck between emotion and logic and that may be what's causing this. You're saying it yourself too: "logically I should quit for my mental health because I don't see this problem ever being solved, (but the universe is telling me to stick it out...) I don't want to quit, I'd love for it to work but I don't know if I have it in me."

Do you see how there's like this.. confliction in your mind? Like a juxtaposition. You don't want to quit, because you want it work out. But what I notice isn't really the fact you've been seeing signs, it's more that both your logic and emotion are based on a lack of faith in your own abilities at the moment (bold text). There is a sense of finality and a sense of hopelessness there, but you want it to work out.

And that want is very strong. It's the reason you haven't quit yet. I think it's more important than you even give it credit for, because it's stronger than your need to prioritize your mental health. So what makes this project so important to you?

I think you really desire this thing and are very attached to it, and honestly I assume you've gotten similar tarot readings on your feed before but didn't notice them because this wasn't on your mind. That want you have will latch onto every kind of affirmation it can to keep you going.

And I know most often suffering is ranked more important than projects and productivity, and that's because it's the case 9/10 times. But, if this is something that feels like it's your duty and responsibility and it's something that's really important to you—then honestly, perhaps it's worth it to keep pushing for what you'll get out of it and/or leave behind.

Alternatively, if this isn't that important of a project in the long-run, then like.. know that it's okay to give up. And whether or not you do it doesn't retract any value from you as a human being. I don't think this has much to do with astrology (tarot, angel numbers, religion, etc.), but I do often feel like these kind of divine things often get hijacked by our mind in order to confirm or appease any deeper needs or desires we have. And it's like an external faith that replaces a lack of internal faith we have in ourselves. So the faith fluctuates, because we don't have a stable foundation. And it's worth exploring where we lost that. For the record, I think both internal and external faith are equally important. But I find that if someone doesn't believe in themselves, believing in something bigger than life can comfort their worries but also creates a self-fulfilling prophecy (at least in terms of occult arts, not so much religion). They don't have a stable foundation I suppose. I've seen people fall down a black hole of spirituality because of this and it tends to somehow end up hurting them. Maybe a bit too psychological of an explanation and I'm not trying to be all psychoanalytical💀😭, but it's just my insight on it and I hope it maybe helps somewhat.

Also, be patient with yourself, even if this is why it happens. Just because you know the source of the issue doesn't mean it'll disappear overnight, and above all, it's your experience. I may very well be completely off-base👄

#answered #spirituality

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dingobait · 4 years ago

Text

SPN 15x20 - rewrite script notes ‘Carry On’

SPN 15x20 - rewrite.

Saving Cas from the empty is the only thing left for Dean and Sam to do.

2735 words: script notes- Destiel, Fixit, Happy, All the gangs here to help saving Cas. Half Ficlet / half mad writings of a grieving Fan requiring happiness and true love and closure- gonna use this as the starting point for some writing practice and probs eventually write a fan / spec script.

Id start it with Dean on the road, fuming and stewing over his grief for Cas. Ignoring Sams calls. Maybe a moment where he hesitates near the trunk of the Impala when Sam comes out of the bunker to be like ‘Dude?! Stop ignoring me!’ And Dean guiltily hides what will later be revealed as Cas’ coat.

All the alternate world hunters are staying in the bunker and established as being back. They’re reorganising, gathering info figuring out what’s changed in this new world post dusting. Sam can’t keep his eyes off Eileen as she works. He keeps getting distracted and almost missing the table when trying to put down his coffee mug. Not wanting to miss a word she signs. She gives his wrist a gentle squeeze when she moves past him, signing that ‘She’s not going anywhere, Promise’.

The bunker is too crowded for Dean, too noisy, he gets busted sitting in Cas’ room, holding the mixtape between his hands.

Sam and he talk about feelings, well they talk around feelings at least. The ‘I love you’ confession will be saved for the very end for Cas’ ears only.

Our inciting incident of the episode starts off screen. Deans choking on his words about missing Cas, Sam amazed at how many words he’s finally coaxed out of his brother- and then from the other room there’s shouts of shock and alarm- there’s a dark smear growing in the air of the main room of the bunker. And for a brief moment a face struggles to push itself out of the muck- Dean and Sam arrive in the room just as the goo shimmers like oil vapours in the air and disappears. Cas? Deans afraid to voice it aloud but Charlie beats him to it. Sams nodding. Freaked out. Everyone agrees it looked like Cas.

They have a smear of the Empty left behind to work with. And A room full of witnesses who all want to help.

Jack shows up saying ‘so sorry I can’t play favourites’ while clearly playing favourites and guiding them to the book that contains the magical solution they need (ala Cas’ telling Dean about the arch angel attached to the profit Chuck in season four, ‘so sad I can’t help WINK if only I could ‘continues to give gives blatant info haha)

For the first step of the spell, we’d need a psychic to establish a tether to the Cas in the empty, we’d have to go and check in on the Wayward Sisters to ask for Missouris’ granddaughters help. We’d see Kia and Claire together as a couple, and Sam would catch Dean looking at them trying to hide how happy they are in the face of Deans misery.

Patience needs something of Cas’ to create a tether, Sam freaks that they don’t have anything with them and Dean has to clear his throat twice to get the words out that he does.

He retrieves the trench coat from the trunk. (Or maybe his own jacket with the bloody handprint still on its shoulder- Sam’s all ’ew dean you still haven’t washed this?!’)

The first part of the spells in place. Patience says something cryptic to Dean as she hands back the trenchcoat, his grip is perhaps a bit too tight to be read as anything but casual. Jodys attempt at getting Dean to open up is less subtle, everyone’s trying to get Dean to admit If he’s okay or hurting or something worse.

‘You’ve gotta talk about it eventually’, but Sam can see the explosion building in Dean, but then it’s an implosion as instead of getting mad Dean just shuts down, shoulders caving in, and Dean just has to go

‘Pick you up later Sammy’ and he’s out the door.

We finally see the tears once he’s alone in the car

Driving, he almost hits the smear of black ooze absorbing the glow of the impalas headlights growing in the middle of the road, he skids and frames the scene with the headlights, jumping out of the car as Cas tries once again to pull himself from the empty, this time the oil parts slightly and Cas’ hands push through, Dean sprints forward, and almost has Cas’ hand tightly in his own before the oozey hole in the universe blinks back closed.

Jack will pop in briefly, commenting about how how well the first part of the spell worked with Patience’s help. He’d plant another hint about the next step of the spell, and Dean would sheepishly head back to pick up Sam to tell him the news.

Together the whole gang discuss the case over a family dinner, food everywhere, no more emotional pushing from anyone, Dean’s allowed to stay quiet and is offered additional serves as everyone brainstorms how to interpret / fulfil the next step of the spell to save Cas.

Sam quietly checks in with Dean, elbowing him as Jody and Donna and the girls talk at the other end of the table. Sam assures Dean that everyone didn’t mean to freak him out earlier and Dean cuts him off.

‘I think I needed the reminder that we’re in this together’ he admits.

Sam agrees, ‘You’re not the only one who wants Cas back Dean.’

With Charlie’s remote hacking help, we find the location of next relic we need / the next spell component. We see Stevie helping with the research, we see Bobby breaking a code and Garth adding some new piece of lore that’s vital to the puzzle.

We have a classic heist sequence with Dean and Sam doing what they do best, breaking into places to steal shit from museums. It’s dope, music sequences and everything ending with Dean almost tripping a lasor sensor before Sam pulls him back at the last moment. Dean thought he saw another hint of Black ooze and drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

Later on the side of the road and with the first hint of hope /excitement from Dean, we preform the next part of the spell.

Almost instantly, another black ooze rifts appears, Cas struggles to pull himself free, but this time Sam and Dean manage to grab his arms together, they pull with all their might, the ooze is retreating back from Cas’ shoulders, neck, and slowly his face, and we finally see the fight in his blue eyes, the desperate hope, struggling to get back to our world.

Dean and Cas make eye contact, Deans grip on his arm turns bone tight- but the ooze is reclaiming Cas’ throat, cutting off his attempt at Deans name. A deep voice rumbles from beyond the rift ’I said forever!’- and SNAP! The ooze rift slams back shut. And dean and Sam are left sprawling on the ground.

Deans hands close on handfuls of dirt and grass, and then Jack appears. Jolly and smiling.

‘That was very close! I almost thought you wouldn’t need the final spell component!’

‘A rare dagger and one other other thing is required to walk through the Empty unscathed.’ Jack hands the the dagger to Dean. He weighs the stone dagger in his hand.

‘Whats the other requirement?’

’Love willingly given’ Jack tells him and Dean gives a wobbly grin and just nods and opens his mouth to say something but Jack shakes his head, ‘no, I’m not the one who needs to hear it’.

Sam thanks Jack for his help making things right as Dean walks back to where the oozey tear appeared. He clears his throat, once twice, gripping the ancient dagger in his hands. He turns back to Sam and Jack who confer back and forth, Jack looks over and just nods back towards the afflicted space, a ‘go on you can do it’ but they both give Dean his space.

Dean flips the dagger about, changing the grip with finesse and gathers himself. He stares at the point in space that had so recently held Cas.

‘We’re not done yet’ Dean finally admits as he stabs the dagger into the air and slices through universe, the dagger vibrates in his hands, the rift trying to resist, but Dean leans into it, whispering

‘it’s my turn to save your, ass you ass’ and the dagger slices clean through the worlds.

Dean steps through the door he’s created, the void empty sans his own reflection beneath him, but the daggers glowing in his hand now, a beacon that grows hot and cold as he waves it before him. Dean follows the bacon of light, and meets Cas half way, the angel is struggling against the ooze at a snails pace, drowning in the thick liquid and Dean grabs his shoulder and heaves, using the dagger to hack at the muck, and then Cas is falling into him and this time Dean drags Cas through the darkness, a perfect reproduction of Cas herding Dean through the halls of the Bunker when Billie came after them, but now Dean’s the one to throw Cas to safety through the door before leaping through it just a footfall behind him.

And they land in a tangle of limbs in the grass on the side of the highway with Jack and Sam watching on.

‘Ow’ Cas says in his familiar deep rumble. Dean chokes back a half gasped laugh as he lifts himself of Cas’ chest, but then - movement from the corner of his eye. He spins, blade in hand.

An arm of ooze streaks out towards Cas, greedy and grasping but Dean cleaves it in two before stabbing the dagger into the ground at the base of the rift. The rift blinks out of existence and we’re left alone on the side of the road.

Cas lays on his back, blinking up at the night sky. ‘So It worked?’ Dean looks down at him, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a clumsy seated embrace, Dean buries his face in Cas’ shoulder.

‘Hello Dean’ he says warmly. Dean gasp laughs into Cas’ shirt collar.

’You can have it. You’ve always had it.’ He whispers the words into Cas’ neck who stiffens in surprise, looking down at Dean incredulously as Sam and Jack engulf them all in a full embrace. Any other words are stuck in Deans mouth.

’It’s been too long!’ / ’Welcome home!’ a sweet short lived reunion. They get up, Sam jumping on his phone to spread the good news as he walks back to the car, Jack explains the status quo. Giving Cas a wonderful speech about well deserved places in the world and how if you’re lucky you can carve out a family of your own and he thanks Cas for being a wonderful dad and promises that they still have to work to do and he of course he’ll be around.

But eventually he catches on to the energy in the night air, Dean hovering over Cas’ shoulder, Jack ‘Jacks’ and states an obvious ‘ohhhh this is one of those situations Sam told me to help facilitate, I’m going to * obvious wink* remove myself’ and he Bamfs out.

And Dean grabs Cas’ shoulder, half trying to brush off the black handprint he’s left there in dirt or ooze, half trying to gather his courage and Cas watches as Dean finally looks up and meets his eyes.

‘They’re hard words to say aloud.’ Dean admits, but Cas hears them anyway, and a surprised heart warming smile forms on Cas’ face, and maybe it’s a little bit wobbly.

‘Love is patient.’ Cas offers but Dean winces. He grips Cas’ shoulder tightly, but forces his grip to relax. His hands settling into something almost soft at Cas’ sides, bracketing his elbows. An almost embrace as Dean leans closer.

‘No fuck that. You deserve’ - he scrunches up his nose at the word, ‘You’re… wonderful. You have to know you’re wonderful- I, goddamnit I’m not good with any of this. You shouldn’t have to be so patient.’ Cas is watching him with a warm smile, basking in the words, in the words he can now see between them, and Deans hands are gently drifting up and down Cas’ arms. They finally settle on his waist. Cas would never tell Dean he could feel their shaking.

‘I love you as you are Dean Winchester’ Cas tells him solemnly.

And Dean kisses him. A brief fierce thing, before he buries his face once more into Cas’ neck, engulfing him in a soul squeezing hug.

We see Deans lips move to form the words we so want to hear, but the words themselves are for Cas’ ears alone as we see Sam watching them from the Impala.

His expression is pained, Half ‘gross that’s my brother making out with an angel’, half ‘my fucking god FINALLY’.

His phone going off in his hands, Eileen and others excited about the news of Cas’ return, and Sam hesitates for a moment before raising the phone. Just as Sam predicted, Dean and Cas kiss once more, the shadows soft about them in the half light on this stretch of remote road. Sam takes a photo and sends it to Eileen… A whole new flurry of texts flood his screen: OMFG WHAT FINALLY?! YOU OWE ME $$$$ and the radios bubbling softly in the interior of the Impala. The first few notes of ‘Carry on my wayward son’.

Dean knocks on the drivers door, Sam jumps and hides his phone guilty.

‘Outta my seat Bitch’ Dean opens the door for him, Sam goes around to get into the passenger seat, only to see Cas already sitting in it, still glowing but trying to play it cool. Cas’ eyes slide to the backseat and Sam humfs before getting in.

‘You’re both jerks.’

Cas and Dean share a look. Sam groans and slumps down in the backseat. But his happiness about the situation is clear.

The music kicks in, the night sky is endless, and the family are together on the backroads of America, ready to take on whatever comes next.

THE END

Maybe a quick shot post credits scene of Gabriel and Crowley and Balthazar exchanging money with all the other angels and demons now awake and creating chaos in the empty.

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vivilove-jonsa · 4 years ago

Text

Young at Heart at Oldstones

Since we have some lovely Jonsa-themed WIP Wednesday headers for Modern and Canon fic both, I’m going to share a couple of different things that have been sitting in my big Maybe file collecting dust. (You can find the Modern AU Headers here)

I don’t see much fic of Jon having a relationship with his grandmother so that was partly what sparked the idea for this one. Someday, I’ll get enough of it done to start posting on ao3 but here’s a good little bit of it.

****

“I don’t know about this, Mom. We’ve not spent much time together since I was a kid. What do I even say to her?” Jon asked as he had the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, searching for a clean shirt.

“Just talk. She’ll be happy you came to see her.”

“Yeah but it’s going to be awkward after about five minutes.”

“You can handle a little awkward, can’t you? You’re not a kid anymore.”

She was right. He wasn’t. He was twenty-three and a graduate student at Riverlands University. He could give an hour or two of free time to his grandmother and not whine about it being a sacrifice. “I’m going…once I find a clean shirt.”

Lyanna laughed through the phone, making him smile to hear it. “I know it’s thirty minutes away but it’ll mean so much to her, Jon. I call her here and there but you know it’s…well, it’s awkward with us.”

He knew that. How could it not be awkward? Considering the circumstances of his conception and birth and the strained relations that had arisen between more than just his mother and father, he felt his mother was quite thoughtful for even bothering to call his paternal grandmother.

Speaking of which…

“You know, she has three kids who could visit her.”

“Yeah, she does and none of them visit. Your Aunt Dany is young…”

“Barely younger than me!”

“But she’s always been her father’s daughter at heart and she still blames your grandmother for the divorce.”

“Oh, yeah because Aerys is such a gem,” he said sarcastically.

“Families are complicated, Jon.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Anyway, Viserys can’t visit.” No, his sociopath of an uncle wouldn’t be visiting his mother. Hard to do when you’re behind bars. “And your father…”

“Is a self-absorbed asshole who found a retirement community for his mother four hours away from where he lives.” He heard his mother’s sigh and felt guilty for dredging up hurtful things. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re not wrong. She’s so excited you’re coming, Jon. I hope you can enjoy the visit, knowing that at least.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be okay. Love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Oldstones Retirement Community was not a nursing home although he’d thought of it as one. He’d pictured some old depressing building resembling a hospital with blank eggshell white walls, dingy tiled floors and musty-smelling, hospital-style rooms.

Therefore, Jon was pleasantly surprised to see it was indeed a community, a neighborhood for the elderly with rows and rows of neat individual bungalows with their own little postage stamp yards spread out in an arch around a larger one level ‘community center.’

However, in order to get a pass to enter the gated section where those bungalows were, you had to check in at the center first.

Parking out front, he walked inside the center to get his bearings, the whoosh of the automatic doors giving him a blast of air conditioning on the exceptionally warm autumn day.

He caught sight of a young woman in navy blue scrubs holding the arm of an elderly man as they walked along. Thinking she might be an employee of the center, he approached.

“Hi. I was wondering if…”

His words and his train of thought were effectively stopped in their tracks when she turned towards him with forget-me-not blue eyes and waves of auburn hair.

“Oh, hello,” she replied, a musical lilt to her voice as she looked at him expectantly.

Damn, she was beautiful. She was around his age, maybe a couple of years younger. Could she already be a nurse? Or just an assistant here?

There was a pattern to her scrubs, cartoon characters he recognized from childhood including Wiley Wolfe. It was cute. She was stunning.

The old guy beside her cleared his throat irritably and Jon realized he was just standing there staring at her and her scrubs. It’s not like he didn’t know how to talk to women but he felt his mouth going dry while he was drowning in those eyes of hers.

Her expectant smile began to morph into one of concern as the silence stretched on. Say something! Use your words, you idiot!

So unfortunately, Jon blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I’m here to see Gamma.”

Those were not the words I had in mind.

The beauty’s lips twitched and Jon felt heat flooding his face. Of course, he’d fall back to what he’d called Rhaella when he’d been two (not that he’d ever stopped calling her that when it was just him and her.)

“I mean, I was looking for my grandmother.”

“Oh, well…do you know which bungalow she’s in or…”

“Reception’s over there, kid,” the old man interrupted curtly. “My granddaughter doesn’t have your gamma hiding under her top either.”

“Grandpa!”

Jon’s red face was getting redder but now. Hers was, too. “I wasn’t looking!” Well, his eyes had lingered on her top for a minute there. “I was just…I like the wolf bit,” he said, nodding towards her chest. “Wiley was always my favorite.”

The wolf bit?! ‘Wiley was always my favorite?’ Gods, you are such a dumbass, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself.

The old guy with his shaggy grey beard shot through with hints of red continued to glare at him. He had a cane and Jon wondered if he was about to use it on him. At least, she was smiling.

“I’m sorry for assuming. I just saw the scrubs and thought…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m a nursing student, thus the scrubs. I just came by to see my grandfather today after my classes were done.”

“Checking up on me for your mother, you mean.”

“You know I want to see you anyway, Grandpa.”

She was still smiling but there was an edge of hurt feelings in her voice, too. Jon didn’t like the idea of anyone hurting her feelings although he didn’t even know her name. Yet.

The old man took the hint though and grasped her hand. “I know, darling. Sorry. They’ll help you out at reception, kid.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Who’re you seeing anyway?”

“Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Rhaella?” he said, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s swell. I’m her neighbor, Hoster Tully.”

He held out his hand so Jon shook it. “Jon Snow.” He looked hopefully towards Hoster’s granddaughter, unable to hide his grin.

“I’m Sansa Stark,” she said, shaking Jon’s hand as well, her cheeks still flushed a lovely shade of pink. “And I’m glad you have such good taste in cartoons.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, grinning wider. “It’s nice to meet you both.” Especially you.

“Have a nice time with your gamma, Jon,” Hoster chuckled. Never living down that introduction then. “The sweet shop’s open. You wanna ice cream, darling?”

Jon smiled, thinking his grandmother would likely ask him the same question.

Sansa cocked an eyebrow at him and put a hand on her hip. “Do I want an ice cream or is it you who wants one, Grandpa?” she asked, clearly amused.

“I’m sure you’ll be reminding me of the doctor saying to watch my sweets, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“I've been a good boy, I swear. I also remember when you couldn’t say no to mint chocolate chip,” he added in a slightly pleading tone.

“I still struggle to say no to it,” she laughed. “Maybe they have a no-sugar alternative."

"Blech. Help me out here, Jon."

"I, uh..." He looked between them both, Mr. Tully with pleading puppy dog eyes and Sansa with her hand still on her hip. "I mean, one little scoop’s not so bad and I'll bet they have a variety of options with, um...different sizes and calories, sugar-free and...you know I've never been here before in my life, right?"

They both started laughing and he was mesmerized by the tinkling sound of Sansa's as her eyes sparkled.

"Well, maybe we'll check out the varieties available, Grandpa," Sansa relented, giving Jon a wink. Hot damn! "It was nice to meet you, Jon. I hope you enjoy your visit.”

“Thanks. It was nice to meet you, too,” he replied as they continued down the hallway.

Sansa’s a pretty name. Where do you go to school? Riverlands? Please, say Riverlands. They've got a nursing program there...I think. Do you come here often? Can I buy you both an ice cream? Can I have your number? Do you have a boyfriend? I really do like the wolf bit.

Naturally, he’d think of a dozen things to say as she was walking away, not that he could say most of those things when they'd just met.

With a sigh, he headed towards the reception desk as Sansa and her grandfather disappeared from his view.

“Can I help you?” a woman wearing pink scrubs, a friendly smile and a name tag that said ‘Yaya’ on it asked.

“Yes, I’m here to see my gamma.” He groaned inwardly as her smile widened. “I mean, my grandmother. I want to visit Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Oh, Rhaella! What’s your name, honey?”

“Jon Snow.”

“Okay, Jon Snow, let’s take a look.” She opened a ledger to nearly the back page, her finger tracing downwards. “Do you have an ID on you, Jon?”

“Yeah.”

He grimaced as he pulled out his wallet. It was possible they asked this of all visitors but he had to wonder if his grandfather and uncle didn’t make this necessary for his grandmother. There was still an Order of Protection in place for his grandfather and Viserys wouldn’t be welcome lots of places, particularly around a potentially physically vulnerable population. Well, I’ll bet Old Hoster with his cane can take care of himself alright.

Yaya looked it over and then smiled, passing him a slip of paper with a word written on it.

“Hippie?”

“Yeah, that’s the gate’s passcode. Just use the alpha-numeric keypad to enter it and you can pull your vehicle through.”

“Okay but hippie?”

“The residents vote on it once a month. They tend to go with something that gives them a chuckle.”

“What was last month’s?”

“Prunes.”

“No shit?” Yaya’s eyes widened before she threw her head back and laughed. Jon hadn’t meant to curse in front of a stranger but when he thought about the meaning there… “Sorry,” he said, failing to stifle his answering laughter.

After they’d settled down again, Yaya asked, “Does she know you’re coming?”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Great. I know she’ll be happy to see you. She doesn’t get…” Yaya trailed off, a soft melancholy settling in her warm brown eyes.

“Many visitors, I know,” he said, shifting guiltily. He’d moved here six weeks ago. He could’ve come sooner. “I…maybe that’ll change.”

“I hope so, Jon. Have a nice visit.”

#jonsa fanfiction #vivilove-jonsa fic #wip wednesday #jonsa #new fic that may never see the light of day on ao3 #but have some of it here anyway

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here4theheartbreak · 5 years ago

Text

Who’s the King?

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Min Yoongi x Min Yoongi Genre(s): Smut, Angst

Rating: Explicit Tags: Self-cest (sorta), Alternate Universe, Inspired by Daechwita (Music Video), Royalty AU, Parallel Universes, Violence, Mild Blood, Minor Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Minor Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Mentioned Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin, Minor Character Death, First Kiss, Barebacking, Riding, Rimming, Oral Sex, Coming Untouched, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Suga gets thrown into an alternate timeline. It's the Joseon dynasty - sort of - but the country is being ruled by his cruel doppelgänger- King Min Yoongi. Suga gets wrapped up in an assassination plot in order to get home, but learns that everything isn’t always as it seems.

Word Count: ~20.1k

His head was pounding as soon as he opened his eyes. Why was it so bright? What did he do the night before?

“Hey, Mister – I don’t think you should be here,” came a small voice to his left. He turned, squinting against the unforgiving morning sun. The small child was dressed in rags, his feet bare and hair long and messy. A streak of dirt was running across his nose.

“What?”

The boy gasped a little. “Wow, what a big scar… Who are you? How’d you get into my yard?”

“Your yard?” He growled. “I’m fucking Suga, shouldn’t you recognize me?”

The little boy tilted his head and giggled. “That’s a funny name. I’m Namkyu. Are you okay, Mister Suga?”

Suga coughed, lifting himself first onto his knees and then standing. He looked around, brows furrowed. The last thing he remembered was stumbling out of the club in Hongdae with Jin, laughing about scaring the pants off some wannabe gangster who’d tried to rough them up.

Now he was in a dirt patch, surrounded with a shabbily placed fence. A small hut was to his left, the door hanging crooked. A large, white dog sat on the porch.

“Where am I?”

“Hanseong. This is my house.” Namkyu pointed. “How’d you get here? You’re wearing really funny clothes.” He reached out and touched one of the zippers on Suga’s jacket. “Is it metal?”

“I—Hanseong?” He repeated.

“Sure! The capital.” Namkyu pointed upward. Suga followed where he was pointing, seeing a large, towering structure on a hill. It looked like the capitol buildings that Suga had seen in history books in school. He furrowed his brows.

“It’s 2020, right?”

“What’s that?”

Suga spun around, panic clenching his throat. “Who is ruling?” He asked suddenly.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Namkyu asked. “Everyone knows the ruler. King Min Yoongi.”

“What did you say his name was?”

“King Min Yoongi. He’s the youngest King we’ve had. No one really knows what he looks like except a certain few… He’s pretty mean to the village though, so we kinda all hope…” Namkyu shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“Namkyu! Who’s that?” Suga looked up, seeing an older woman open the door.

“Gramma! I found him in the yard!” Namkyu called. Eager to prevent the inevitable scream for the police, Suga hurried up to her and bowed.

“My name is Suga, ma’am. I’m so sorry to intrude, I wandered in last night. I had been drinking, I’m from out of town. Could you point me to the city exit?” He asked. Her eyes narrowed. She glanced over at Namkyu then back at Suga before pointing to the left.

“Go out our gate and follow the road. You can’t miss the village gates. But if you’re not from around here, you’d best move quickly… The guards don’t take kindly to strangers wandering in unpermitted.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Suga bowed low once more and turned.

“Oh wait. Take this.” She disappeared in the hut for a moment before returning with a large conical hat. “That scar is pretty noticeable. You could frighten someone, or catch the wrong attention.”

Suga hesitated then took it, carefully tying it under his chin. “Thank you.”

He glanced at Namkyu, who was looking at him with his head cocked. He smiled a little and nodded. “And thank you for waking me up, Namkyu. I would have been in a lot of trouble if you hadn’t. Can you imagine the sunburn?”

Namkyu grinned then. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Suga.”

Suga chuckled and headed out, slipping through the gate onto the dirt path. He could see a horse coming up from the left, and to the right he could hear the bustle of people. He stepped as far off the road as he dared, lowering the hat over his face to hide his scar. He walked toward the bustling noise, his mind working a million miles an hour.

Last night was the year 2020, and he’d been in Seoul. He was the leader of a relatively powerful and well-known street gang. His best friends were Jin and Namjoon. He’d been out drinking – celebrating. And then he woke up… Here. Wherever here was. It was clearly Korea, they spoke the same language, but Hanseong? Seoul hadn’t been called Hanseong since the Joseon dynasty, if his schooling hadn’t failed. And the King...

Only a few living people knew Suga’s real name. Jin and Namjoon knew it, of course – they were his closest friends and confidants. His parents, though he never spoke to his mother and his father died three years before. And he supposed the children in school back in Daegu, but many of them – according to varied reports, thought he had died at some point. To everyone else, he was Suga. His real name though, the one on his birth certificate from that rundown hospital, was Min Yoongi. The King’s name.

Suga reached the market district and was immediately taken aback. It was bustling with life, stalls lining the road as people walked or led animals through. The annoyed shouting of salesmen and laughter of children, the promises of fresh meat, real spices, sweet fruits. The scents of a village – manure, home cooking, fish, and perfumes – permeated the air around Suga, making him a bit woozy. He could see the gates of the city rising up in the distance, and rushed down the street toward them. He kept his head low, unsure what would happen if someone called him out for not belonging. His clothing and shoes were out of place, and he could feel the weight of his pistol still in his inner pocket. How had he gotten here?

Suga bumped into a tall, slender villager in his rush, mumbling a canned apology. “Yoongi?”

Suga hesitated. He turned and looked at the man he’d run into. Jin stood in front of him, dressed head to toe in clothing of the period they seemed to be in. A fishing rod was slung over his shoulder.

“Jin!” Suga cried, hurrying toward him. Jin’s eyes widened. He grabbed Suga’s jacket as soon as he was within reach and slung them both off the street, pinning Suga against a wall behind a couple of stalls.

He backed up immediately and dropped into a full bow, forehead to the ground. “Apologies, my King. I was so startled seeing you out and about, I needed to hide you.”

“Wh—” A wave of nausea began to form in the pit of Suga’s stomach.

“Jin. Please, it’s me. It’s Suga… Please tell me you know where we are.”

Jin looked up hesitantly, his brows furrowed. “What sort of alias is Suga? What does that mean?”

“Wh—Jin, come on. We were out having drinks last night.”

Jin rose, stepping close to Suga. His eyes narrowed as he searched his face.

“You… You’re not King Min.”

“Goddamnit, Jin, this isn’t funny!” Suga snapped, shoving Jin backwards. “Where the fuck are we?”

Jin stumbled, then went forward. He dropped his pole and turned his net, jamming the handle into Suga’s stomach. The pain radiated through Suga’s entire body and he doubled over, groaning. Jin slammed him back against the rough brick wall, using his body to pin Suga’s and the net handle against his throat.

“Who are you?” Jin hissed, going almost nose to nose with him. “Why do you look like the King?”

Suga struggled for his pistol, but the Jin lookalike in front of him had him firmly pinned. This wasn’t his Jin. His Jin was sweet, an older brother and confidant, always supportive. Gentle. The man he trusted with his entire life.

“My name is Suga,” he rasped. “I don’t give a fuck about your King. I just want to find out where I am. I’m from 2020. Seoul, South Korea.”

Jin’s eyes narrowed. He relaxed the pressure of the net enough to let Suga draw in a much-needed breath.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Why would I lie? Do I look like I belong here? I was out drinking with my friends last night in the year 2020. I’m twenty-seven, I have a small dog named Holly. I lead a gang of guys who spend their days fundraising for gay groups and fighting against capitalism for fuck’s sake. My best friends are Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon. They’re lovers.” Suga’s shoulders slumped a little as he relaxed against Jin’s grip. “I just wanna get home.” He muttered. The fight drained from his body, replaced with fear and nerves as he spoke. Tough covers or not, he was lost, and arguing against everyone and everything would do him no favors.

“If I let you go – you won’t run?”

“Not if you can help me.”

Jin lowered the net and stepped back. Suga coughed, rubbing his sore throat.

“My name is Kim Seokjin too. I grew up serving the royal family. I’m King Min’s personal servant. Kim Namjoon… He’s a smart man,” Jin smiled a little, a familiar expression that had Suga aching for his Jin. “He writes. Very well educated. He’s a doctor.”

“He’s crazy smart where I’m from too. Are you and he…”

“Uh..” Jin chuckled and shrugged. “Sort of.”

“I know this is weird…”

“That’s an understatement… There are so many people eager to end the King’s reign… How can I trust you?”

“I’m going to reach into my pocket, okay? Don’t freak out.”

Jin’s grip tightened on his net, but he nodded once.

Suga reached into his jeans, pulling out his wallet. He held it up and opened it, withdrawing his driver’s license. “See?” He held it out for Jin.

Jin blinked at it. “What’s this?”

“My ID. It says my name and my age and everything.”

“It… I can’t read this.”

Suga scowled. “What do you mean? It’s right there!”

“I was never taught,” Jin shrugged.

Suga’s face dropped. He’d get nowhere like this. He pulled out a ten thousand won banknote and held it up. “Look! Money from my time. This is Sejong the Great. He was King.”

Jin took the banknote and flipped it over, his brows furrowed and mouth in a concentrated pout. “You say this is money? But it’s just paper. Sejong was never King. He was Yoongi’s brother, the title was stripped from him. Yoongi was named heir.”

“It’s what we use. That or these.” He held up one of his credit cards. Jin plucked the card from his fingers. He flipped it over, scowling.

“What is this?”

“A piece of plastic.”

“It’s money?”

“It stores money. Hey!” Suga tugged the card out of Jin’s hand when he made a motion to bend it. He put his wallet away and rubbed his temples. “This is ridiculous.”

He leaned back against the wall, puffing out his cheeks in thought. “So, it’s not time travel, that’s impossible… And the timeline is wrong, Sejong was made King… So what is it. A giant joke? No, that’s… Impossible. Am I sleeping?”

Suga dug his thumbnail into his arm, hissing. “Not sleeping. Drugged?”

He rubbed his arm over the rough wall behind him, scowling. No, that felt pretty normal. He examined the light hairs on his arm… Normal. He reached out for Jin. That cloth should be rough.

Jin stepped back, smacking Suga’s hand out of the way. “What the hell are you doing?” He cried.

“Making sure I’ve not been drugged,” Suga grumbled. He touched the fabric of Jin’s shirt and nodded. “Okay… So, I’m not drunk, not drugged, not dreaming.”

“No, you’re standing in the middle of the marketplace acting like an animal,” Jin grumbled, crossing his arms.

Suga huffed. “Well, do you have any useful advice then?” He asked, flinging his arms out in frustration.

“Well, there is the royal advisor. councils the King in everything and knows almost everything. I don’t know that I believe your tale of being from the future or… A different future… But it would make sense to go to him. If someone that knew the King’s face were to see you on the street… Things may happen.”

“What things?”

Jin twitched his head to the side, shrugging. “The King is not adored in the village.”

“Why not? You mentioned people eager to end his reign…”

“It’s not my place to say, especially not to someone I know nothing about. And is wearing his face… Down even to his scar.” Jin touched Suga’s cheek. He jerked back.

“I don’t like being touched.”

“Nor does the King.” Jin shook his head. “The resemblance… It is frighteningly uncanny. It’s as if the boy I grew up with is standing in front of me, wearing such rags and… This dark hair.” He grimaced. Suga touched his own hair peeking out from under the hat.

“What color is his hair?”

“White as snow. Long and beautiful,” Jin said proudly. “Anyway… Come. Let me get you to the palace. But… I’m still not sure…” He pressed his lips into a thin line, looking Suga up and down. Suga scowled, crossing his arms.

“What’re you staring at?”

“You look so strange. These clothes.” Jin touched one of the zippers on Suga’s coat. “And the fabric of your pants.”

“Yeah, they’re jeans. They’re comfy. Better than whatever the hell canvas you’re wearing,” Suga grumbled. Jin frowned and looked down at his clothes. “My brother’s partner made me these. They’re very comfortable.”

Suga scoffed. “Whatever. How do you suggest I blend in more?”

“Well, I think you and my brother are the same size. Come to our home. I’ll let you borrow something of his.”

“Nuh-uh. I am not wearing any potato sacks.”

“It’s better that than be killed on the spot by one of the royal guards, isn’t it? Not that I would be hurt if you were… Has anyone ever told you that you have quite an abrasive personality?”

Suga laughed, both out of surprise and humor. “I’ve been told.”

“But I have to admit… I am curious how this all ends up. So hopefully you don’t die too quickly. Come on, my home is right back this way.”

Suga followed reluctantly after Jin, having to dodge a few times to avoid his pole and net. He peeked around the marketplace as they walked, hit with a pang of homesickness. Today in his world would have been Saturday. He and Jin would have met up with Taehyung and gone down to the soup kitchen, volunteering with some of the homeless. They would have all spent the evening together, playing games and wandering the city he loved so deeply.

Suga was lost deeply enough in his thoughts that he bumped into Jin’s back when he stopped. “Hey—” Jin turned and put a finger to his own lips.

“Shh now, don’t wake them.” He whispered.

Suga peeked over Jin’s broad shoulder, surprised to see the “them” Jin was talking about was a large, beautiful black dog with a coat of long, shaggy fur, and a younger man, hat pulled over his face to hide from the sun, sleeping on the dog’s side.

Jin crept around the two with comically exaggerated movements, using his pole and net as a sort of balancing rod.

Suga cocked a brow, looking once more at the dog and boy pair. He shrugged and followed after Jin, the toe of his sneaker scuffing a rock in the path. Jin winced visibly and turned. The dog’s eyes were open, staring directly at Jin. He let out a low, deep woof, and the sleeping boy stirred. He sat up, pushing his hat back. Suga was taken aback by how familiar he looked. Long, dark hair in a ponytail, and a perfectly shaped nose and mouth, he could have easily been an idol in Seoul.

“Kim Seokjin!” He snarled, revealing large front teeth that would have looked comical if not for his already impossible beauty. “I’m going to get you!” He scrambled to his feet and took off, the dog following close behind. Jin screamed and bolted toward an opening in a fence, kicking up dirt and rocks as he ran.

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#mygsnet #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #boymeetsmxm #ficswithluv #yoongi x yoongi #royalty au #parallel universe #smut #angst #minor character death #self-cest #min yoongi x suga #suga x suga #mywriting

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