#it really surprises me how much free time I had
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
It's a Love Story - Chapter 5
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.
“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile.
Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"
Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.
Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.
Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.
Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.
Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females.
And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.
He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it.
Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp.
Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend.
It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better.
"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.
Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."
"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.
Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?
Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.
And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way.
"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off.
Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.
"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.
Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."
Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into.
Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all.
Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.
Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.
But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.
***
"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.
"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly.
"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.
"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.
Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.”
Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.
And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.
He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."
Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"
Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.
She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful
They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.
Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.
How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.
"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."
They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.
He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.
He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.
"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.
Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."
He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."
The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him
Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,” he admitted.
It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either.
Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.
Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.
He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.
The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.
"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.
Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."
"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.
"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."
"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.
"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."
She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?
She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.
He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.
Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.
For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.
She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.
"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.
Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.
"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."
Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.
*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*
Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further.
"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."
Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.
"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.
*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*
Sky blushed at the compliment.
Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.
"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."
"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.
"Yes."
"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.
Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.
"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."
Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her
"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."
Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently.
"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."
He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."
He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.
"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."
He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."
She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.
As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.
He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.
"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.
415 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wake up call
pt. 1
a/n: I'm not going to follow the series episode by episode, as I already mentioned. This story will focus primarily on the three witches' story, so I'll probably jump forward and back in time at my own discretion from now on. If you're curious about something in particular, feel free to tell me in the comments. Would you prefer that I go back or forward from now on? (also, sorry for eventual typos or mistakes).
pt. 2
Agatha looked as surprised as you for a moment. The boy was on his knees, squirming uncomfortably at the rope around his wrists and ankles. He said something, his voice sounded muffled through the duct tape.
“Oh, uhm.. well, I may have accidentally kidnapped him.”
You blinked in disbelief, “How can you accidentally kidnap someone?”
The kid muttered something else you couldn’t quite comprehend. You thought it was his way to agree with you, so you grinned, whereas Agatha groaned in annoyance. As the boy persisted, you realized what he really wanted from you.
“Oh–”, you mouthed a quick apology, lips stretching in an awkward smile as you took the tape off his mouth with a quick puck. He winced, but then muttered a ‘thanks’ to you. Had he been locked in there the whole night? Instead of that, you asked a different question, “you alright?”, twirling your finger, you made him turn around to untie the rope around his wrists and ankles.
He sighed and gave you a grateful smile once free, “much better.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line, not really sure about what else was to say, despite having tons of questions. There couldn’t be a moment worse than this to have to deal with a kid.
“Agatha, love, care to explain?”
Your lover paid no attention, or rather she feigned to be distracted doing practically nothing more than walking up and down the house, as she mentally freaked out due to the last events.
“There’s nothing to explain–”, she waved dismissively, “For all I care he can keep the house.”
The boy frowned and quite frankly so did you. You walked up to her, confusion written all over your features, “Agatha, what in heaven are you talking about?”
The boy followed behind in silence.
When she suddenly spun around, Agatha was so close, you almost stumbled backwards. “Did you listen to Rio’s words or not?” There was a hint of frustration in her tone, quite relatable in fact, and yet...
Your head lolled to the side, “so your plan is to leave?”
“Glad you’re catching up," she grinned cheekily.
With no magic at her disposal, she had no intention of facing the Salem Seven, and even less letting you anywhere near them to save her life. So running was the best and only option she could think of at the moment; that hopefully would give her enough time to figure out a way to restore her magic and be a witch again.
You ran a hand through your hair, eyes glancing only briefly over the boy, who gave you a tight smile in return. A part of you wondered what he was doing still there. Didn't he have places to be, like school or whatever?
Before Agatha could walk from you again, you reached out to grab her wrist, “So, this is what we will do,” you started, silently enjoying the whiny sound slipping from her lips, “we sit down, talk it out like mature adults, and you–” pointing a finger at the boy, “you’re gonna tell me why you broke into our house in the first place.”
“Uhm.. yeah, I..”
“We don’t have time for this!” Agatha exclaimed, “Need I remind you there’s a price on our heads?”
A playful smirk tugged at your lips and unable to resist teasing her, you quipped, “technically it’s on yours. I only happen to be in your shit as per usual.”
The boy let out a quiet chuckle, that you were about to reciprocate hadn't it been for Agatha’s hand flapping at the nape of your neck, “Oof!" you whined.
Amusement glimmered in her eyes, “You had it coming,” she retorted. Then she glanced over the boy, with a grimace. “Not to be rude or anything, but we’ve got a lot on our plate so if you could just–” She pointed to where the front door used to be, her confidence dimming slightly, “this house is a complete disaster.”
She looked so annoyed right now, tired and scared even, but the latter she would never admit. Completely forgetting about the boy, you focused on Agatha and placed a hand over the small of her back, “it’s not so bad…” you trailed off, resting your chin on her shoulder. She knew you weren't only referring to the conditions of the house. Her eyes fell shut for a moment, her features relaxed when you started stroking her skin, lips barely brushing against a soft spot behind her ear, “we have an excuse to redecorate now.”
Despite everything, Agatha let out a small chuckle. She turned around and draped an arm around your waist. With everything that happened in such a short time, she hadn’t given herself a moment to truly cherish the fact that you were back—the real you. Sure, even without your memories, you stood by Agatha’s side all those years, but having you here now, like in the old days, felt different. It was different. Her eyes darted from your face to your collarbone, nose scrunching up at the sight of the nasty bluish bruise— a reminder of Rio’s hands on you. Her hand glided up to your face, tracing your jawline before slowly moving down to your collarbone, fingers barely grazing your skin, mindful that it was still tender and possibly sore.
“Are you–?”
Your eyes softened at the hesitation in her voice, “you shouldn’t worry about that.”
“I always worry about what matters," she argued back.
"Sappy," you teased.
With an eye roll, she smirked, "brat."
When her eyes darted towards the boy once again, she let out an incredulous scoff, “you better have a darn good reason to still be dangling here.”
Color drained from his face. Quite frankly, Agatha could be intimidating when she tried. Even when she didn't. “I-I do!” He cleared his throat. “I want to walk the Witches' Road. It’s the only reason why I broke in here really and–” he was talking so fast, for a moment you thought your mind had tricked you. There was no way he said the words ‘witches’ and ‘road’ in the same sentence.
Agatha's eyes snapped wide open, “what’s that you say?”
“The Witches’ Road,” he repeated, slower and firmly. It hit you hard. You couldn't help it. “I want you to take me there,” his eyes softened and so did his voice as he added, “please.”
Agatha tried to meet your eyes then, but you had your gaze dropped to the floor.
“The Witches’ Road doesn’t exist.”
“You’re lying,” he argued.
Agatha scoffed bitterly, “am I?”, voice rising in exasperation.
When you slowly lifted your chin towards the boy, you squint your eyes so much as if you were troubled by a sudden headache, “You’re asking for a death wish here.”
Agatha agreed, “quite literally.”
The boy looked crestfallen, but he didn’t back down, “You only say that because you think I’m inexperienced, which is fair. I am. But I can make it to the end-”
Your lips pursed in a grimace as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. First Rio, then the Salem Seven on your heels, and now this boy who had no idea what he was asking for.
“Look, I love your confidence– but the Road is no place for a kid.”
Agatha sank into the couch in the lounge, curling a finger at you in invitation. Smiling, you obliged, perching yourself on the armrest beside her. You were close enough that her hand could slip to rest on your thigh, her fingers tracing soft, lazy patterns over the fabric of your pants. The gentle rhythm of her touch soothed you, and you allowed yourself to calm your nerves, focusing on her proximity and nothing else.
“I’m sixteen,” he objected, taking a seat onto the chair across from you.
“Oh, why didn’t you say that before? That changes… nothing.”
You had to stifle a laugh at her sarcastic remark.
He gave a dramatic eye roll. “Come on! You walked it before and survived!”
Your brows knit in a frown. Just how much did that boy actually understand about you and Agatha? Or rather, how much did he think he understood? No one truly knew what it had been like for the two of you back in the eighteenth century. People clung to their own assumptions, and you let them—after all, the real truth was far too painful to share. Not a single soul knew the true story behind the reputation Agatha had built, nor the reasons why so many had to die in the first place.
Agatha’s hand stilled on your thigh, “I had a very good reason to stay alive, plus I’m exceptional.”
It wasn’t a lie, not completely at least.
The boy’s eyes shifted from Agatha’s to yours. You felt as if he knew what Agatha was talking about you. You saw something, a glimpse of understanding in those eyes that somehow unsettled you. If Agatha was known as ‘witch killer’ for all the wrong reasons, your reputation also preceded you, but you struggled to say the words.
“I read an egregious amount about you two. I’ve been obsessed since I first came up with your Salem days… the way you two met, and oh my God- don’t get me started on your magic skills.”
So you and Agatha had a little fan.
Agatha’s interest rose considerably. She grinned, “cute. Isn't he a cute pet?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure whether to be flattered or freaked out by all this interest,” you mused.
The boy completely ignored the fact that Agatha just called him pet. “Sorry, I just– you’re a necromancer witch!” He was now struggling to keep a posed tone of voice, and you found yourself scratching the back of your head, not really used to being praised by your gift/curse. Quite the opposite in fact. “Guilty as charged,” you quipped.
Agatha’s hand moved towards your knee, thumb brushing in a soothing circle there. You smiled inwardly at the gesture.
“Books say witches your kind is so rare, powerful and–”
“harrowed, banished, burned at the stake?” You cut him off in a sing-song tone.
Agatha snorted, “you name it.”
She knew better than anyone what it felt like to be brushed aside. It was one of the reasons why she could bond with you so easily and so quickly. You understood her before she could even attempt to comprehend the complexity about herself and her power.
Teen blinked confusedly, “I was gonna say interesting.”
You clasped your hands together and took a deep breath. “Look, we appreciate your enthusiasm. You seem like a really smart boy, and I’m sure you’re destined for great things, but we can’t help you, not with that-”
“But I saved Agatha from the spell…” his smile turned into a frown and his features dimmed as a consequence, “I’d have come to you too if she hadn’t locked me up in the closet. But w-wait,” he suddenly came to a halt, eyebrows knitting in a frown as a new question popped up in his mind. “How did you wake up from the hex?”
Agatha knew, but said nothing, leaving the explanations to you.
“It’s hard to explain–” Being a necromancer allowed you to have all sorts of… vibes. Plus your soul was connected to Agatha’s and her life being threatened by something– or rather someone you knew quite well worked as a wake up bell for you, “it’s like a sixth sense, but better. I can always feel when Agatha needs me. I got a pull into reality the moment Rio broke into the house with the purpose of harming her. I felt her aura. She and I– let’s just say our magic works like opposite poles of a magnet.”
Agatha’s features hardened a bit, as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek out of nervousness. Your magic being complementary to Rio’s had caused you more problems than anything else. She almost lost you to her, and that’s something she would probably never forget.
The boy hummed in thought. He was clearly intrigued by your magic and took a mental note to ask you more questions at the first next opportunity, considering he left his notebook in the car.
“And who’s Rio? I didn’t hear much but– there seemed to be a history–”
“Trouble.”
“A bitch.”
Both you and Agatha said in unison.
“We don’t really need to talk about her now…” you kept vague, hoping he would catch the silent message passing through your eyes. Talking about her was never easy, not when your feelings for her were so tangled and conflicting. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love her anymore, cause you still did. And Agatha... well, she probably did too, however, she would never admit it, not to you and even less to herself. The past clung like a shadow, and neither of you could ever truly forget. The ache of Rio's choices lingered, buried deep, a silent reminder of what your bond once was and could never be again.
He pressed his lips together and gave you a slow nod of his head in return.
“I’m curious,” she smacked her lips, your head turned towards her, as she continued, “If you’ve got the goods to break a spell cast by the Scarlet Witch, why do you need the Road?”
Your eyes widened in shock. Was she really considering this?
“The Road promises that what you’re looking for awaits at its end. I need to walk the road so I can figure out the extent of my power..” he explained and she hummed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Don’t you need power yourself?”
Agatha’s back stiffened, “I most certainly do, yes.”
“She doesn’t need to walk the Witches' Road for that,” you pointed out, glancing at the purple witch with the corner of your eyes.
The boy was confused. Without giving him too much information, you simply told him that you could share your magic. And, in a way, it was true. A more accurate version would have been explaining that Agatha could kill a witch by absorbing all her power, leaving nothing behind but dust. But that was far too dramatic, plus you were still one hundred percent sure she couldn’t and wouldn’t harm you in any way.
She let out a long, exhausted sigh at your insistence, “For the umpteenth time, I’m not taking your magic–”
“Ugh!" You groaned. "Aggs, Rio warned us–”
“She mentioned the Salem Seven, didn’t she?” The boy cut you off. “I’m sorry but y-you’ve got zero chances against them without magic, Agatha.”
She shot him an icy glare, “Thank you for stating the obvious.”
Your lips trembled a bit, as you struggled to hold back an amused grin.
“I’m just trying to understand which alternatives you have,” he muttered defensively.
Agatha opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Nothing that she could use to hush both you and the kid.
“He’s got a point, you know. You need my magic, like right now.”
Once again, she ignored you. “Or maybe, we need to walk the Witches' Road one last time.”
The boy’s mouth parted ajar, “Really?”
“Really?” You echoed in a squeak.
She simply nodded her head, giving you an innocent smile that only fueled your incredulity. You let out a quiet, bitter chuckle right after, at the same time shaking your head in disbelief.
“Agatha, sweetheart, a word?”
You held out your hand for her to take, and just like she did a moment ago, you forced a serene, tranquil smile—one that didn’t quite reach your eyes but would have fooled anyone who didn’t know you better. She took your hand, her fingers curling around yours as she let you lead her toward the kitchen. Once you were far enough from the boy to speak more privately, you locked eyes with Agatha. Your face was practically shouting, ‘What the hell?!’ —a silent message that she heard loud and clear, without a single word spoken.
“The Road doesn’t exist! What’s your plan?”
“We are the only ones aware of that,” she stated matter of factly as if that could be used as a great advantage. “Teen is right, without my magic, I can’t defend myself against the Salem Seven, I can’t protect myself or you.”
If this wasn’t handled carefully, it could spiral into something much worse. You knew, better than anyone, how deeply it hurt Agatha to feel powerless, especially when it came to protecting those she loved. She had faced this agony with Nicky, and now, here she was again, reliving the same fear, this time, for you. Her own life, in that moment, felt like nothing compared to yours. Because without you in it, there was no existence worth living for her.
“You could,” you insisted, in a low, almost pleading tone. “if only you took my power–” It was so easy.
“I’m not willing to take any risks with you,” she stepped into your bubble, her hands tightening around your shoulders, in a possessive and yet still attentive way. She wanted you to understand. She needed you to be on her side on this. “I need to make sure I've got control over my thirst first. It's been so long since the last time I did that so I'm sorry but you’ll not be the lab rat for it.”
“Are you really thinking of using the boy?”
Agatha’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, my God- no! I’m not talking about Teen, you idiot!”
You crossed your arms over your chest and gave her a defiant look.
She gave in after a bunch of seconds, “Okay, maybe I did think of him for a minute. He did break the Scarlet Witch’s hex, though."
You pinched the bridge of your nose at that.
“But we still need to ‘walk’ the Witches Road, except that this time, we aren’t killing anyone,” you’re ready to argue back again, but she didn’t let you, so you bit your bottom lip instead, trying really trying to find the silver lining at the end of this plan. “Here’s what we will do: we gather a coven, make some female friends, sing the Ballad, it doesn’t work, wowie-!, I call them names, they get angry and blast me. I take their magic and stop right before they turn into dust.”
She paused and took into your eyes, letting you assimilate her words, hopeful you’d find her idea good enough, because there was really no time for anything else.
“So, to recap—,” you cleared your throat, “you’re willing to lie to that kid, to the poor witches we’ll meet along the way, witches who’ll eventually turn against us once they learn our intentions, but you’re not willing to take my magic that’s literally within arm’s length because you’re scared you’ll kill me.”
She hummed, feeling quite satisfied with your summary, “yep.”
A slow smirk spread across your lips, “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe," she conceded. "But this plan’s gonna work.” Agatha shifted closer, her hands sliding to your hips, her fingers pressing into your skin with a slight possessive touch.
Your gaze fell to where her hands rested and for a moment, there was silence.
Time ticked. She waited.
“Fine. Oh my God- fine–”
Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a crashing hug. Your pout quickly turned into an amused smile, and finally into a fit of giggles when her lips began peppering kisses all over your face.
“Atta girl!” She said with a proud grin, to which you responded with a snort.
You’d be pissed, though, if by the end of the day, you’d be forced to resurrect a bunch of witches. But you kept quiet about that.
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#Teen#agatha harkness x reader#Teen x reader#wlw#Kathryn Hahn#Aubrey Plaza#Joe Locke#marvel#witches#agathario x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#agathario
118 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey i was wondering if i could request a pau cubarsí x reader. maybe one where he gets jealous of a guy hitting on the reader or talking to her at the balon d’or? thank you, i love you and your work ♥️
Love Between… — Pau Cubarsí.
Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader
Summary: In which you make it clear Pau is all you want.
Word Count: 530+
Disclaimer/s — Guy, just comfort/fluff really!
A/N: The summary lowk doesn’t even fit but whatever I guess. First of all, thank you so much??? I love you :3 This was beautiful. I hate this but I don’t at the same time, soooo. Soz.
Smoothing down the hem of your dress with your free hand, you stood close to Pau, whose pinky was still, to your surprise, interlocked with yours.
It wasn’t anything stressful. He knew what he was doing and you were just there. Pau and his tendency to be attentive was something you’d grown to love. Then, suddenly, “There’s Lamine!”
At the sound of your quiet voice, the boy looks down at you before looking up, meeting the gaze of his friend you had just pointed out. “I’ll say hi to him later. Are you thirsty? I’m sure they’ll have water bottles around here somewhere,” he says.
“I’m okay. Go talk to him—I’ll be fine. I’ll manage.”
“I don’t know…” he drawls. “Do you want to come with me? He’ll want to talk to you. You can, I don’t know, maybe congratulate him or something.”
Rolling your eyes at his insistence, you poke his arm. “Pau, please, have your moment with him.”
“I—okay! Okay. I’ll… be back before you know it.”
While he walks away, the Yamal boy starts talking to him the second he spots him. You see the way your boyfriend’s smile widens when he hands him his trophy. You loved him so much. It was insane.
Before you have the chance to keep your gaze fixated on them, you hear a voice catch your attention. “I’m sorry, excuse me, are you lost?”
“Oh. Oh!” Awkward, okay. Haha. “No, I’m not—”
“‘Cause I can show you around if you’d like. I know this place like the back of my hand, y’know.”
“That’s nice… I’m not lost. Thank you, though!”
His expression drops and he nods, but your answer doesn’t stop him from continuing. How disappointing. “Did you come here alone?”
Can Pau come back? “No, I’m here with my—”
“She’s here with me.” Oh, thank God.
Stiffening, the man purses his lips. “Ah, I see. You two have a good rest of your day and… goodbye.”
Watching him depart, Pau looks over at you and frowns. “Odd of him. What did he want?”
“To know if I was lost,” you answered honestly.
“He was looking at you weirdly. Are you okay?”
“I didn’t see how he looked at me, but I’m fine. He offered to show me around or whatever, I refused. I was about to mention that I was here with my boyfriend—you, and that’s when you stepped in.” You fidgeted with your fingers. “Thank you for that, by the way. He just came out of nowhere.”
“Didn’t he? I left you alone for, like, a second.”
That gets a laugh out of you, and you warmly loop your arm with his. “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you came in when you did? Seriously.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “You haven’t.”
“Well, in that case, I’m glad you came in when you did. So… how about that water! I’m a bit thirsty.”
“Water, okay,” Pau hummed, placing his other hand on your arm. His cheeks flush when you lean into him and begin to walk around in hopes of finding your beverage, that’s if you guys could.
You couldn’t, however, you both pulled through.
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @sakashq ! ౨ৎ
#pau cubarsí#pau cubarsí x reader#pau cubarsí x fem!reader#pau cubarsí x you#pau cubarsí x y/n#pau cubarsí fluff#pau cubarsí comfort#pau cubarsí blurb#pau cubarsí imagine#pau cubarsí oneshot#pau cubarsi#pau cubarsi x reader#pau cubarsi x fem!reader#pau cubarsi x you#pau cubarsi x y/n#pau cubarsi fluff#pau cubarsi comfort#pau cubarsi blurb#pau cubarsi imagine#pau cubarsi oneshot#request#jilval#love between… - kali uchis
104 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello~ um, hope you don't mind the bombardment of sudden notifications from me, but after reading more on your linguistic analysis posts for Love Sea (THANK YOU btw; they're really really adding to my enjoyment of the show and I didn't think I could love the show even more but here we are), it got me thinking of a question I have regarding LITA and Prapai's way of calling Sky.
Mostly I'm wondering if you had any insight about Prapai testing out different ways of addressing Sky at the end of episode 9. The subs say Prapai tests out "Sky krub" and then "nong Sky krub", but it sounds to me like Prapai is saying "khap" the at first and "khrap" the later which sounds distinct to me. Is there a difference? The way the music swells seems to indicate some other meaning, so I'm curious.
I'm also wondering at the implication of Sky asking Prapai to call him "just Sky" in episode 10? I just thought it was interesting since Prapai in ep 9 says "isn't that too curt" about calling Sky just by his name. Also wondering why this request from Sky makes Prapai go feral nearly kiss Sky?
Hope its okay to ask you like this! If its not please feel free to ignore me; I hope you've having a great day! ^w^;;
Ohhhh I hope you realize the monster you've unleashed cause this might get long 😂 Hi though first of all!! Loved reading all your tags in my notifications hehe
My usual disclaimer applies: I'm not a native Thai speaker, just a passionate learner 🙏
First things first: I'll be using screenshots from the Viki version, simply because I highly recommend re-watching the show with those subs for all who have a base level understanding of there being different levels of speech, pronouns, particles etc. in Thai. Back when LITA got re-released on Viki with weekly episodes all over again, my Thai was still in its baby shoes lol but since I was actively following the main cast at the time, I therefore followed a handful of fan translators on twitter too! One of them, midknightmoodz, still translates for BossNoeul's fandoms to this day, has been involved in several Thai BL sub teams on Viki, and got to be the translation editor for LITA's re-release on Viki. Her subs therefore give a little more insight where possible and, as a fan herself, come from a place of wanting interfans to gain a better understanding of some of the intricacies of the language used. Long story short- if the subs look unfamiliar, it's because they're the Viki ones!
If my pre-explanation already got this lengthy then... 🤡
Color-coded for ease of understanding: Prapai, Sky, Plerng, Rain, particles
Pai testing out ways to call Sky
I'll try to faithfully transcribe the way he pronounces the particles but only for this scene here because it establishes a lot of things about how Pai thinks and acts:
สกาย สกาย = Sky... Sky. ห้วนไปไหมวะ สกายคับ¹ น้องสกายค้าบ² /huaan bpai mai wa? Sky khap. Nong Sky khaap/ = Is it too curt? Sky¹. Nong Sky². มันขาดอะไรไปอย่าง น้องสกายครับ³ /man khaat a rai bpai yaang. Nong Sky khrap/ = It's missing something. Nong Sky³.
¹สกายคับ /Sky khap/ This is a pretty standard informal pronunciation of the polite particle ครับ /khrap/. Without it, he feels like he sounds too brusque, the addition of it makes him sound more polite, formal, sweet and honestly pretty flirty!
When they first meet, Pai defaults to informal พี่/น้อง /phi, nong/, since Pai is older and Sky clearly younger, and he uses typically masculine polite particle ครับ /khrap/ A Lot already. We know he's a huge flirt and sleeps around a lot so none of this is surprising to me lol
In the scene after the freshie orientation thing, the contrast to how Pai and Rain talk to each other really puts Pai's use of ครับ /khrap/ with Sky into perspective lol He does not use it with Rain, of course. If my boy wasn't such a walnut, Rain would've clocked right away that Pai is intent on pursuing Sky! Because using ครับ /khrap/ so much when addressing him, makes Pai sound flirty-sweet.
Back to the differences you correctly heard between the ways to pronounce this particle though!
²น้องสกายค้าบ /Nong Sky khaap/ The emphasis on elongating the vowel, the sweet tone of voice, the more endearing น้อง /nong/ + name? This man is laying it on thick lol In ep.10 especially, you'll hear him speak this sweetly and อ้อน /aon/-ing Sky a lot!
In the following scene at Sky's dorm, Pai actually already starts calling Sky น้องสกาย /nong Sky/:
แล้วชัดพอไหมครับ น้องสกาย /laaeo chat paaw mai khrap, nong Sky?/ ชัดพอครับ ว่าพี่ตั้งใจจะมาจีบน้องสกาย หือ /chat paaw khrap? waa phi dtang jai ja maa jeep nong Sky? heu?/ = Is it clear enough? That I intend to be pursuing you? Hm?
Crystal clear 🫠
At the beginning of ep.9, we see Pai getting feedback from his younger siblings re: just "name" vs. Nong "name" and the effect he intends it to have:
- เพลิง = Plerng. - ครับ /khrap?/ = Yes? - น้องเพลิง เรียกนี้เขินไหม /nong Plerng. riiak nee, kheern mai?/ = Nong Plerng. Does calling you that make you feel shy/fluster you? - ถ้าเป็นพี่พายก็ไม่อะ /thaa bpen phi Pai gor mai a/ = If it's you, then nah.
Many of Pai's moves are intended to make Sky shy or get his heart racing. He keeps saying so too, for example here in ep.10 after 'claiming ownership' via the wind symbol:
นี่พี่ทำขนาดนี้แล้วเนี่ย ไม่เขินบ้างเลยหรอครับ /nee phi tham kha-naat nee laaeo niia, mai kheern baang loei raaw khrap?/
³น้องสกายครับ /nong Sky khrap/ This last one is pronounced really properly and clearly, you can hear the rolled ร /r/ in there. It's giving well-mannered or gentleman, basically. This guy is really bringing his A-game, trying to prove to Sky that he's serious about him! And can you believe this utter simp? Playing dress-up, practicing in front of the mirror, testing it out again on his little brother- only to what? Go ambush his crush at his dorm to take him out for a meal during which he talks a mile a minute 😂
Sky asking to be called "just Sky"
Again giving you the entire exchange first, as faithfully as everything's being said:
- พี่พายเลิกเรียกผมว่า น้องสกาย ได้ไหม /phi Pai leerk riiak pom waa "nong Sky" dai mai?/ = Could you stop calling me "Nong Sky"? - แล้วให้เรียกว่าอะไรอะ /laaeo hai riiak waa a rai a?/ = Then what would you have me call you? - สกายก็ได้ กาย⁴เฉย ๆ ก็ได้ /Sky gor dai. gaai/Ky⁴ choei choei gor dai/ = Sky is fine. Just 'Ky⁴ is fine too. ขอแค่ไม่มีคำว่าน้องอะ ฟังแล้วตอแหล⁵ /khaaw khaae mai mee kham waa nong a. fang laaeo dtaaw-laae⁵/ = Just please not the word "nong". Sounds like bullshit.⁵ - สกาย สกายค้าบ² /Sky. Sky khaap²/ = Sky. Sky.²
⁴กาย /gaai/ or /Ky/ Sky's name is สกาย /sa-gaai/ in Thai but among his friends, they mostly all just call him กาย /Ky/ or ไอ้กาย /ai'Ky/. That's clearly too casual for our resident sweet-talker though lol
⁵ตอแหล /dtaaw-laae/ This is a bit of a rude colloquial expression akin to 'bullshit', meaning- being deceitful, pretentious, lying, insincere, duplicitous, fake etc.
It actually comes up once before in this episode when Pai swears he only had 3 hookups after he met Sky lol:
พี่สาบานเลยว่าพี่ไม่ตอแหล /phi saa-baan loei waa phi mai dtaaw-laae/
Pai doesn't always call Sky น้องสกาย /nong Sky/ before Sky asks him not to, though. And the moments he doesn't, honestly go to show that Pai's aware of how that's mostly an act to get Sky to fall for him or at least get him flustered. It does sound fake!
When Pai accidentally triggers Sky by saying "Love makes me blind" in ep.9, he pulls him back out by calling him just สกาย /Sky/:
Same again after being on the phone with Rain and rushing to Sky's dorm:
สกายอยู่ไหน /Sky yuu nai?/
And again while looking after Sky:
สกายจะคิดนะ ว่าพี่ต้องการแค่เซ็กซ์ /Sky ja khit na waa phi dtaawng gaan khaae sex/
His other fallback is the pronoun เรา /rao/, and not just with Sky. Bit of a tangent but- before the freshie orientation thing where he hands Rain that useless coffee receipt lol Pai and Rain talk a bit differently to each other.
Between these two instances, Rain becomes more chill and casual, going from constant ครับ /khrap/'s to only using it when strictly required (whenever you'd ไหว้ /wai/ 🙏 basically lol so hello/bye/thanks/etc.), and Pai goes from calling him เรา /rao/ to just เรน /Rain/. The pronoun เรา /rao/ as a 2nd pers. pronoun is used by people more senior/older to refer to someone younger, it can both be endearing as well as come across as treating someone like a little kid, depending on context.
And this little pronoun is exactly what Pai sometimes switches to, here in ep.9 with Rain for example:
พี่สัญญาว่าจะไม่ทำอะไรเพื่อนเรา /phi san-yaa waa ja mai tham a rai pheuuan rao/
And in ep.10 with Sky as well:
เมื่อคืนเราไข้สูงที่พี่เกือบพาไปโรงบาลอีกรอบแล้วนะ /meuua kheuun, rao khai suung thee phi geuuap phaa bpai rohng baan eek raawp laaeo na/ ใช่ครับ พี่อยากพาเรามาเดท /chai khrap, phi yaak phaa rao maa date/
As you can see, it mostly comes up when he gets serious. Being the eldest sibling, I guess he can never quite turn off that caretaker mode (or maybe it's his factory setting?).
Circling all the way back 🥴
²สกายค้าบ /Sky khaap/ Here he goes again: full-force puppy eyes, sweet voice, long vowel on the particle, leaning in as if to kiss him- he's trying to tease and fluster Sky again. And this time? Ohoho, the evidence is unmistakable!
I wouldn't necessarily say this request drove Pai wild lol it's more how this scene so nicely mirrors the first meal they shared in ep.9 where Pai shared all the most important info about himself against Sky's will 😂 Whereas here Sky is the one asking questions, engaging, showing interest- he's finally opening up to Pai :>
สกาย��องพี่ /Sky khaawng phi/
Hope my rambles made at least some sense but I'll gladly answer any follow-up questions~ Thanks for giving me an excuse to re-watch some LITA and thanks for reading ✨
#inquiring minds.txt#local woman harps on about linguistics#love in the air the series#lita#prapaisky#fortpeat
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
When they get back together Hawke doesn't rush to be intimate with Fenris. The two are very affectionate, hugging, kissing and touching each other with no restraint, but Hawke never initiates or insists on anything more (even when Fenris doesn't seem to mind it).
He is a little bit worried about the possibility of Fenris feeling guilty about their breakup and the three years of time wasted, and fears that Fenris may feel obliged to please Hawke, doing something he doesn't really want to do. He knows that Fenris is not entirely free of his slave mentality, and wants to help him work through it (but remain subtle about it). I just have a lot of feelings about Fenris giving friendship points for reminding the world on his behalf that he is not a slave, like he needs constant reminders and reassurence ;_;
So Hawke simply wants Fenris to make the first move and make it explicitly clear what he wants.
However Fenris is confused at first. They've had a number of encounters that by all accounts (in Fen's mind) should have led to sex. Fenris gives it some thought.
At this point he has no doubt that Hawke cares deeply about him and wants to be with him. He concludes that Hawke, burned by the experience of their first time, is afraid of scaring Fenris off by being pushy. He might even assume that Fenris finds sex off-putting? And because Hawke was always painfully understanding, considerate and supportive of Fenris, he thinks it totally like Hawke to put Fenris's wellbeing before his own wants.
Fenris finds it endearing, but a little frustrating. He's a free man now, and wants to have what a free man can have. He wants to get all and everything out of his relationship with Hawke, including sex. Yet he doesn't dare to start something himself because... Should he? Is it really his place to do so? He decides that he can at least tell Hawke that he doesn't need this kind of coddling. He can and he should. He knows in his heart that Hawke will understand! Fenris seriously struggles to find the words to bring up the issue, so he decides to act.
The next time they return to Hawke's mansion after another battle they bath (separately) and clean up. Hawke lets Fenris finish first, then goes himself. Fenris tries to remain calm awaiting Hawke's return - naked, holding the used towel that covers nothing.
When Hawke appears he is surprised by the sight and can't look away.
If there were any lingering doubt (like what if it's something else? What if there is something you don't know?) Hawke's awestruck expression erases all trace of it and fills Fenris with confidence. He ditches the towel altogether and approaches Hawke without a hint of constraint.
He says that he'd been thinking on how to get Hawke's attention, explains that for some time now he's been dreaming of feeling Hawke's touch again (Fenris takes Hawke's hand and decidedly puts it on his chest and places his own hand above Hawke's heart). He states that he still very much wants Hawke to touch him, wants to feel him inside, yet Hawke doesn't seem particularly interested. Matter-of-factly he wonders if perhaps Hawke doesn't want him anymore.
They keep touching, remembering the not forgotten feel of each other's bare skin. It's been so long! Hawke is very happy to know that Fenris isn't shy about speaking his mind and that he acted on his own. In the softest tone that he can manage he says
I'll never not want you.
With a mischievious smile he adds Just say the word.
He probably makes some joke about him having wanted to be seduced by Fenris.
Fenris looks him in the eye and says
I am yours, so take me.
Hawke thinks to himself Close enough. This will have to do for now. It's a start.
Then they kiss and Hawke sweeps Fenris off his feet because it needs to happen at least once!
I think this takes place after that convo where Varric brings up the subject, and Hawke was inspired by his idea. Probably thought it would be cool)
#fenhawke#hawris#fenris#male hawke x fenris#fenris x m!hawke#rendering#private ramblings#mature#MindYourAudience
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
@zepskies
I've been waiting ALL week for this!
Dean has a problem. Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock…
It's not a problem Dean, (the gun is obviously BUT) she is beautiful and you will love her and I will cry at your wedding.
He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...
Dean no. No feeling bad for saving your girl and for killing the "sack of shit in human clothes."
Also I didn't notice the Colonel Sanderson thing before and now all I can think about is KFC lol.😂 Which is not to take away from how good this fic is or how well it's written. It's just me lol.
Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him. Don’t go out there, her eyes say. Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below.
Oh goodness she is already so protective of him and oh my word the wink had me melting lol.
I also don't think that I mentioned this before, but I really like how you wove in the other characters in the show. Seeing Benny and Cas show up just made me so happy.
Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do. He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.
Oh my word seeing that fight in my head, um... YES PLEASE.
And the loyalty?! The love for their friend?! The "Goodbye brother."? It's so good.
“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand. “Kimmí.” “Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment. “Mila,” she says with a nod. “Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”
She's squishing his face! That is so cute, oh my stars. Plus I am cackling at how long it took him to be able to say her name.
“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”
I absolutely love this! I really love it when writers pick the names of their characters based on the meaning behind it. And the fact that you gave the meaning of her name a backstory of her mom having a dream and the butterfly meaning that Mila "would have a free mind" is just so perfect for her. Because she is stubborn and she does have "a free mind" by being rebellious and strong, by being a strong female character who does not conform to the whims of what other people deem to be appropriate for her. Also it was funny that Dean thought she was like a "lioness."
"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”
This is a really wonderful line, that the war "never really ends." It really fits this story and honestly it really fits the entire early history of the United States when it was acquiring territory and embracing the "manifest destiny" ideals.
Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.
Okay, the whole part where she is explaining things about her life and her culture was so sweet. Them opening up with one another is just so soft and a little fluffy and I'm so glad that they got to have those gentle moments with one another. Not to mention this bit where Dean admits how much he likes listening to her, is just so good lol.
And I thought it was really on brand for him to be a little upset that she doesn't completely trust him yet, even though that he killed one of his men. But he's got to learn to be patient... and then propose. LOL.
At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.
I think my soul has left my body. This is so cute.
She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves. Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden. She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at.
Don't be afraid to admit it Mila, we all know how good he is to look at. And why shouldn't you look at your future husband? 💍
A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.
Oh my sweet goodness, the TENSION!!
This is so good my friend and I am so excited for what the future of this series holds and am praying that it doesn't end in death!😬💗
The Honorable Choice - Part 2
Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…” ⬅️ If you’ve seen The King & I, then you’ll probably be singing that line in your head like I do.
Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU
Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack
Word Count: 3.1K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Dean, historical tidbits, fluff
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!
Part 2: Death & Sacrifice
Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and the hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.
“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.
The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.
Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.
Dean has a problem.
Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock…
He just can’t do it.
His finger eases off the trigger of his gun, and he lowers it to the ground beside him.
“I told you,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Her head tilts as she stares at his gun, then at him. She relaxes somewhat, and she backs off of him, sliding from his lap down to the grass beside him. Her closed fist with the knife comes to rest at her side. She gives him a look of wary bewilderment.
“You are a strange man,” she says.
Dean has to laugh a little, smiling at her afterward.
“I guess so,” he replies.
Her brows furrow. “You killed one of your own…for me?”
He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...
And a sack of shit in human clothes.
Dean leans back on his hands in the grass and slides his legs out long. His stare falls to the earth between his boots. The ground is soft underneath him. Maybe it rained this morning.
“Yeah, that’s gonna make it tough when I go back,” he says. “At best, that’s a court martial. At worst…”
The Lakota woman frowns, her dark brows nearly meeting in the middle as she considers him. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him.
“Tell you what,” Dean said. “Give yourself and your horse a rest tonight. I’ll go back and tell them I lost you in the canyon.”
Her eyes widen further in surprise. He can’t blame her for it. He’s surprising himself every time he opens his mouth.
“Will they kill you?” she asks.
Dean shrugs. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”
She levels him with a firmer look, one that demands the truth.
His nonchalance wanes, and he sighs.
“They might,” he says.
She shakes her head. She seems to deliberate over something, but eventually she comes to a decision. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, a gunshot rings out and hits the ground not far from their feet. A warning.
The sound of hooves thundering on the earth reach them before they look up. Two horses gallop towards them in the distance, their riders wearing blue uniforms.
They both tense up, but Dean is the first one to move. He grabs her arm and helps her stand along with him. They scramble back and lead the horses by their reins further into the trees. They find a denser patch and a raised hill to crouch down and hide behind.
The mustang is too tired to go very far, but Baby is already making anxious sounds, protective of her rider.
“Shhh,” Dean whispers, and runs a soothing hand over her side. He leads her to lay down with her legs tucked underneath her.
The Lakota manages to do the same with the mustang after whispering to him softly in her language. There’s a trust between them, Dean realizes. They have a connection that seems to mirror his own with his horse. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.
“Captain!” Benny calls out.
Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him.
Don’t go out there, her eyes say.
Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below.
“Captain Winchester!” Cas calls next.
“We don’t want to have to come and get you, Dean. Come on,” Benny says. He does sound reluctant, for his part. His voice grows more somber when he says, “Colonel’s given us orders to bring you and the girl back…dead or alive.”
Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do.
He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.
Dean’s heaving for breath as well as he leans back against the side of the hill. Despite that momentary victory, he knows what they all know: that this fight isn’t going to end until either they’re dead, or he’s dead.
“Where’s the girl, Dean?” Benny says. He implores him to see sense. “We take her back with us, we can smooth all this over with the Colonel. All of it, even Roman.”
Dean lets out a deep breath, but he shakes his head.
“Can’t do that, Benny,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a question circling in his friend’s eyes, but after a beat, Benny seems to know the answer to it. He picks up his gun from the ground. Just like Dean once did, the Lieutenant now has a choice to make.
He shares a heavy look with Cas. The two of them nod, before they focus back on Dean.
Benny’s hand falls, and he stows his gun.
“You died today,” Benny says. “We found your body somewhere in the canyon. Your horse too.”
Dean nods, with something of a smile. He supposes faking his death is the only option now. He rips the badge off his uniform jacket and tosses it to Benny.
“There’s your proof,” he says.
Dean shares a grim nod of respect with Cas while Benny examines the torn patch denoting a captain’s rank.
“Take care of each other,” Dean says.
Benny’s head raises, and he meets Dean with a somber gaze.
“Goodbye, brother.”
Dean doesn’t return to her until the men are out of sight through the trees. She’s still hiding along with the resting horses, waiting for him. That alone surprises him. It would bring a small smile to his face, if the weight of that goodbye didn’t feel so heavy on his shoulders.
He reaches out a hand for her. It takes her a moment to consider it, but she accepts his offer.
He helps her to her feet, after which, she quickly pulls her hand back. She’s wary of his touch, her face guarded when she looks up at him. Dean supposes he can’t blame her, even if it does strike a nerve. After what he just did for her…
His face becomes stoic, and he turns away to grab his hat from the dusty ground. “We should probably head out.”
She nods and calls to her horse to encourage him to his feet. Despite himself, Dean can't help but be curious. How did this girl manage to tame that wild beast?
“Does he have a name?” he asks.
“Mato,” she replies.
“Mato,” Dean echoes. “Does that mean something? You know, in your language.”
She eyes him wryly, brushing her hand over Mato’s hide.
“It means angry, like a bear,” she says.
Dean snorts. “Yeah, good name.”
He remembers his bruised side (and ego) from when the mustang threw him off his back.
Dean watches her with another realization as she gracefully mounts the horse. Baby has gotten up to her feet as well, already nudging the back of his arm with her snout. He rubs her nose in affection.
Then he turns to climb up onto her back, settling his feet into the stirrups and loosely grabbing the reins. He follows his companion’s lead farther into the forest, but he guides his horse to fall into step beside hers.
“Will you tell me your name now?” he asks. “Think we’ve been through enough together at this point, don’t you think?”
She considers it with a tilt of her head. She looks over at him with a small smile.
“Kimmímila,” she says. The syllables roll off her tongue effortlessly.
Dean raises his brows. “Kim…Kimmeela.”
She shakes her head at him, her lips pursing.
“Kimmímila.”
Lord help him, but he tries his best. His brows furrow.
“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand.
“Kimmí.”
“Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment.
“Mila,” she says with a nod.
“Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”
He’s treated to her smile, warm and true. She releases him, her gaze flitting over his face. Then she keeps riding. Dean grins to himself.
“Think I’m gonna call you Mila,” he says. Make it easier on myself.
She even laughs, a honeyed sound. “Yes, my father does too.”
“What does it mean? Your name.”
“In your language?” she says, in a tone that teases him back. She becomes thoughtful as she searches for the word. “It means…butterfly.”
“Really?” Dean remarks. She doesn’t strike him as a butterfly.
More like a lioness, he thinks, only somewhat holding back his grin.
She gives him some side-eye, despite her amusement.
“You think it does not suit me,” she observes.
“Well, I didn't say that—”
“I don’t think so either,” she admits. “There are many things that don’t suit me.”
Dean chuckles. He can imagine that.
“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”
Dean offers her a rueful, sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get it. My brother always said I was damn hardheaded,” he says. “…Maybe we’ve got more in common than we thought, huh?”
Mila’s smile returns, however slightly.
“You have a brother?” she asks.
“Oh, yeah. He’s a lawyer, so he’s more needed back home,” Dean replies.
Damn. He really does miss his bookish little brother.
He explains to her about his family, his brother and mother who still live in Lawrence, and how he joined the army, in part to honor his father.
“What happened to him?” she asks.
“He died…in some cornfield near Sharpsburg, Maryland, fighting the Confederacy,” he replies, heaving a breath.
"Con...federacy?" she questions.
"The South," Dean explains. "See, most of our southern states thought they should be their own country, letting slaves plow their fields and mind their kids. I may have lived on a farm, but my father always paid his workers. He fought for the Union."
"So you fought among yourselves, over land that did not belong to you," Mila points out.
Dean falls silent. After a little while, he concedes her point with an incline of his head.
"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”
Her expression of curiosity fades, turning more solemn.
“No,” she agrees. “…I am sorry for your father.”
Dean's a little surprised to hear that from her, but he nods his thanks. They continue to talk as the sun begins to set in the west. When it dips behind the canyon, they stop to make camp for the night, and he helps her catch a rabbit to roast on the fire they build together.
That night over the meal, she slowly opens up to him. He learns that she’s an only child, though she has a sibling-like bond with her older cousin, Šóta. She spends most of her days planting or harvesting their crops, depending on the season, as well as sewing, painting, helping the elders of her tribe with tasks, and helping her mother and aunt cook.
When the rabbit is gone, she unbinds her long, thick hair and untangles it while she speaks. She explains that the Lakota are just one of many tribes. There are six other bands of Sioux who live in this region. Along with the Dakota and the Nakota, they are the “Seven Council Fires” who have made the Great Plains their home for generations.
She tells him about the way her tribe lives, caring for one another, giving the land back as much as they take, and letting it rest. The men hunt and protect the village from the outside, but the women protect the inside, their way of life.
Most of all, Mila tells him, she loves caring for the horses. She goes out and rides whenever she can duck out of her mother’s watchful eye.
Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.
She still picks a spot as far away from him as she can to sleep though. She keeps the fire pit in between them. He even catches sight of her knife, hidden in the hand she tucks underneath her cheek. Evidently, she doesn’t fully trust him just yet.
It annoys him at first, considering how many times he’s saved her already. How much he’s sacrificed just to get them this far…
Until he remembers how they met. He remembers the disdain and anger in her brown eyes, then the mistrust, and the fear hidden underneath. He thinks of every experience she’s likely had so far with the U.S. Military, and anyone else who looks like him.
Dean settles down on the ground and stares up at the innumerable stars in a raven sky. He’s exhausted, but his thoughts don’t let him rest for a while.
At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.
In the morning, Mila watches the strange man wake.
He blinks and rubs his bleary eyes, yawning, groaning at the sun’s brightness like a child. She hides her smile by bowing her head over the apple she’s cutting with her knife. The orchards span wide across the forest, and soon he’ll find two yellow-red apples beside his head.
His brows raise at them, then he looks up at Mila sitting with her legs crossed behind the small fire pit. The wood there is just ash and blackened remains now, but it still carries the smell of burning.
“Morning,” he greets.
She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves.
Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden.
She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at.
Last night, she declined his offer to travel with her until she reaches her tribe safely, but he was insistent. Again, strange.
So here she is, with him. Here they are.
Dean turns to see the horses grazing nearby. Mato no longer has the saddle and bridle his men put on him. He looks rested and at ease. He even whinnies at Baby, tossing his head a little. She answers him and flicks her tail. They continue eating together.
Dean smiles, then grabs an apple. He raises it to her in thanks before he takes a large bite. Its juices run down the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. Mila can’t help but be drawn to the sight.
She tears her eyes away when he looks over at her.
“We have a long way to go. Three days, if the weather is good,” she says, continuing to carve pieces of her apple to eat. “We will know we are close when we reach the river.”
Dean nods in understanding. With a grunt, he gets to his feet and takes another bite out of his breakfast. She doesn’t expect the way he approaches her with a hand outstretched. She looks up at it, then at his expectant face.
“Come on. Let’s hit the road then,” he says.
Mila considers his offer for another moment. He seems to be making this a habit. Amused, she wonders if this is just kindness, or if the women of his people aren’t allowed to stand without a man’s help.
She pockets her knife, swipes her braided hair over her shoulder, and slips her hand into his, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she gets there, he’s closer than he should be.
A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.
And at the same time, she does.
She takes back her hand, and she goes to the horses. She firmly ignores how her heart gallops, even as she rubs at her chest like it’s an ache that can be soothed.
She doesn’t hear Dean’s unsteady breath, nor does she see the way his green eyes follow her.
AN: *rubs hands together* Well, here they are! It's all starting to come together. What did you think of Dean's decision?
Coming up next, we have the final part: some action, some fluff, and some potentially perilous situations for Mila and Dean...
Next Time:
“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”
Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.
“I will protect you,” she says.
Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.
“Mila…”
“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”
Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.
COMING 11/17! (New chapters every Sunday.)
Or read Part 3 on Patreon now!
Series Masterlist
Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist
Dean Winchester Series List
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List + Dean W. (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms
@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19
@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @kaleldobrev @spnwoman
@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28
@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka
@chevroletdean @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24
@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley
@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @mimaria420
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice
@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof
@tmb510 @skyesthebomb @syrma-sensei @harleycao @king-of-milf-lovers
@pizzagirlxnsfwx @justsom3onesworld @beskarfilms @lunaticgurly @artemys-ackles
@malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean
@violetlilysunshine @traiitorjoe @tsofo26 @k-slla @jackles010378
@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat
#guysireadsomething#dean x oc#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#supernatural#spn
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tim Drake's I.E.F chap 4
[Previous chap][Ao3 chap][Masterlist][next chap]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason here, with some bonding on multiple levels!
It took Danny's core a total of four days for it to be satisfied with Tim's safety in the cave while recovering. Four days plus the three since before Tim got shot since Danny's checked in with his friends back in Amity.
He's honestly surprised the Boomerang hasn't beaned him yet.
Only after making sure he had a few methods of keeping Tim safe remotely and telling his new friend—as much as he was able to without talking—that he'd be gone for a bit did he fly back over to his old squat house and retrieve the rest of his things, including his phone. The new guys there didn't seem like the friendly sort, but when you can go invisible that's not really a problem.
His go bag was still in the same place he'd left it four days ago—inside the first floor bathroom's wall—along with the change of clothes and cash Sam had shoved in it on his way out of Amity. He took it easily and shot up through the top of the building, missing the guy sleeping in the bath tub's panicked start.
Hesitantly he turned his phone back on. The moment it was done the startup sequence it began vibrating nonstop, and Danny had to wonder how much of that was his friends worrying versus actual updates about his hometown. Scrolling through and, yep, that's a lot of 'answer or I'll kick your ass' texts from Sam, probably one every other hour since the second day, judging by the time stamps. The texts he was getting from Tuck were much the same, albeit much less violent and graphic about what bodily part's would be stuck where if he didn't answer soon.
Picking a direction and shooting off Danny soon found himself sailing high above the Atlantic ocean. He made sure Gotham bay was only a spec in the distance (to fool any attempts at trying to track his phone call, just to be safe) then hit the group dial on their chat.
Two connection tones sounded on top of each-other, and the first words Danny heard from his friends in a week were "give me one good reason why we aren't already in Gotham looking for your half-dead ass after you literally ghosted us for a week."
"Hi to you too, Sam," he chuckled in response. It was nice actually getting to talk to someone, with actual words.
"Ohhh no. You don't get to pull the 'Hi to you too, Sam' bit after missing two check-ins in a row with no explanation."
"Danny…" Tucker's voice came in with a lot less fire in it, but with twice the worry of Sam's. "Why is your phone pinging two hundred miles off the coast of New Jersey? Did you get into something again?"
Ah, yes. His friends knew him so well.
"To answer both of your questions, my phone is pinging two hundred miles from New Jersey because I am two hundred miles from New Jersey, give or take with the altitude. I didn't mean to ghost you, really, something came up and I forgot the phone at my old place."
"Old place? Danny, what came up that you had to move safehouses? What do you mean something came up?" Oh yeah, Sam wasn't happy with him. If he weren't safely riding in international waters he was sure Sam would find him and make sure no one found his corpse. If he could leave a corpse that is.
"Yeahhh… about that?" He let out a nervous chuckle, free hand travelling to the back of his neck. "I kinda made a friend?"
"What?!" Sam's shriek had Danny's ears swivelling down and his toes curling at the intensity.
"Danny, I say this with all the love in my cold, dead heart, but what the actual fuck would make you think making a friend while on the run was a good idea?!"
"Danny dude," Tucker spoke up, "I thought you've had some bad ideas before, but this. Man, at least tell me you didn't give out your real name?"
"Heh heh eh… funny story? They kinda gave me a name."
The statement was met with only the sound of the rolling waves underneath him. As the quiet grew he started to get fidgety, maybe not starting from the beginning wasn't the best idea…
Finally, after what seemed like hours, a woosh of air passed Sam's mic as a single word came over the call. "Explain" left no room for jokes, rambling it is then.
"So I may or may not have been hanging around this guy at night while doing some flying to clear my head. The guy seemed nice enough and pretty popular so I kinda thought 'whats the harm?' and started haunting the guy when he went out 'cause I was bored and we kinda grew into this on official friendship between us? Cause apparently he knew I was there even though I was invisible like all of the time, so cause I knew he knew I was there I started helping him with the things he was doing? Like little not obvious things but apparently he noticed him anyway cause his family is like a bunch of detectives and so he notices things. Anyway like four days ago he was shot and I've kinda been with him since cause my core thinks he's someone I need to protect even though I didn't actually know the guys name till after he got shot and-"
"Danny, dude, this is like, waaaay too much info all at once. You got a spark notes version of this story?" Tucker cut in. Having a friend that both had a tendency to ramble and no need to breathe could give him a headache sometimes.
Before Danny could start back up, Sam cut him off "... Danny, what's the name of the guy you were stalking?" It was phrases like a question, but with who it was coming from, it was more of a demand.
Panicking he tries to evade the question, "stalking? I wasn't stalking him, I was… hanging out? Without him knowing it was a hangout?"
"Danny…"
"I mean really, stalking is such a strong word. I'd prefer the term non-consensual bodyguarding."
"Danny."
"It's not like I was even doing anything usually, just hanging around the same places he was. At night… alone."
"Danny, the name!" Sam snapped. He really shouldn't tell his friends, because if they know his new friend is Tim Drake-Wayne then they'll want to know why he was hanging around him at night, and why he got shot. Those were not questions he wanted to answer at the moment. He knew what they'd say if he did.
"I can't tell you," he blurted out.
"...What?" Oh, oh yeah, that was a bad play, Fenton.
"I can't tell you his name, you'll get mad at me," he knew she sounded like a child, but his friends were always the more responsible parent types anyway.
"Danny dude, what in Clockworks name do you think will make her any more angry than she already is?" While Tucker brought up a good point, he already knew the answer to that question.
"...Timothy Drake-Wayne?" Was all he could say to reply.
Once again all that joined him was the sound of the rolling waves. Were they shocked? Angry? (Of course they were angry, angrier?) It was really hard to gauge his friends' responses with just their voices.
Finally Sam whispered "what do you mean, Timothy Drake-Wayne?" That voice. He knew that voice, if he were any closer to her when she spoke in that voice he'd be halfway through the zone already trying to hide.
The heat of a thousand suns couldn't compare to the fury in that one question.
"I mean, I started haunting Tim Drake-Wayne accidentally? And then sorta got attached?"
Sam was trying to re-kill him through the phone somehow, he knew it. Tucker graciously offered an out with "Why was the co-CEO of Wayne Enterprise going out enough in Gotham to require a ghostly bodyguard Danny? The dude is, like, super kidnappable right?"
Ancients damn Tucker and his logical questioning making Danny want to drop his phone in the ocean and fly back as fast as possible. Unfortunately, now that they knew who he was haunting, they could just show up at Wayne manor to find him. That would definitely out him to Tim's family, he hadn't even done any pranking with the guy yet.
Audibly sighing into the mic, Danny's hand travels back to his neck as he speaks. "You guys gotta understand that what I'm going to tell you next is a secret, okay? Like, my level of secret secret. Tucker, this line is encrypted right?"
At Tucker's confused sound of approval he continues.
"So originally I didn't actually know I was following Tim Drake. I was following Red Robin. I only know who he is now because I followed him to the Batcave after he got shot."
He really should have something to do for when he accidentally stuns his friends into silence. Fidgeting can get boring pretty fast after a bit.
After another eternity a groan came from Sam's end. Danny hoped that was a good sign.
"So you were stalking a vigilante and accidentally put him in your 'I'd take a bullet for you' list? Danny, that's all kinds of stupid. He's a vigilante, it's his job to fight and protect, not be protected! And what were you saying about your core bonding to him?" Well at least she sounded more 'tired of this shit' and less 'grind him to dust' now, Danny for the win?
"You know how I get all ghostly protective about you guys getting in danger? It's kinda like that with him now. It feels so weird having my instincts labelling someone outside of Amity as one of my humans. Kinda the whole 'I've only known him for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him I'd kill everyone here and then myself' meme. It's creepy, and not the good kind."
"I hate that you just described your ghostly instinct to protect people with a meme, dude." Tucker half groaned, half chuckled. At least he appreciated the humour in it.
"At least he's acknowledging he's getting into stalker protective territory, before he just thought he was being a helicopter friend." Sam added in. He hated when she brought up his early phases, when he still didn't know how being a ghost worked (he still doesn't, really.)
"So how are we going to play this, dude? Want me to hack into the Batcave, see what they got on you?" He could hear the gears in Tucker's head spinning, trying to find the best code bits to use on the bats firewalls. Danny chuckled at the image of Tuck going against a family of trained hackers and coming out on top.
"Nah, Tuck. I-" Something cut him off, there was a buzzing in his core. The kind he knew was meant as a silent alarm. Tim was in trouble and he had to get back now.
"Guys, I gotta go. I'll check back with you later." He hung up, hearing his friends' voices of protest as he did so. Stowing his phone, he shot back to Gotham at mach speed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took Tim a while to get used to the fact that he was no longer ignoring the cold spot staying in his room. They were surprisingly easy to talk to, once they got past the fact that Arct could really only do yes or no questions with the statue as help. Trying to figure out that his friend had to go do something for a while took some time, especially with just the yes or no probing.
Before he left, Tim asked Arct to get him something to read, they came back with his laptop and the stack of files and books from his nightstand (how did it know which bedroom was his?) With one last Bob of the galaxy, his friend set it down and floated out, bringing with him the now comforting cold.
He'd finished up all the work emails saying he'd been in an accident and was just starting on the novel he's been meaning to read when he heard the revv of an engine coming to rest in the cave. As it was currently the day all of the usual bats were either at work or school, or resting up for tonight's patrol. Only a few members came in during the day, and he was about to try and figure it out when the question was answered for him.
Jason didn't even knock, instead kicking the door open with his boot and striding in like he lived here. Tim could only give a mildly annoyed glare as he watched his second eldest brother plop himself down in the chair next to him and kick his feet up on the side of the bed.
He sighed, realizing the book would have to wait again. Closing it and returning it to the stack on the side table, he looked to Jason, now with Red Hood helmet and domino mask off. He opened his mouth to speak but Jason beat him to it with. "Why d'you smell like death? I thought you survived the whole bullet to the chest thing."
Okay, that's not what Tim was expecting to come out of his brother's mouth. Not even a hello? Hell, how'd he even know he was in the medbay? He voiced that thought and he got a "group chat," in reply. Of course it was the family group chat.
Tim sighed and readjusted his position in bed. Talking with Jason was always tiring with how little respect he got from the former Robin. He knew Jason felt he replaced him when he died, but the fact he brought it up over and over again really didn't make him feel any better about it.
"Yo, Replacement, you gonna answer me? Why the hell do you smell like you took a shower in pit water? How'd you even find a pit not guarded by the League to begin with?"
"Do you really think I'd still be in a bed in medbay if I went anywhere near a Lazarus pit?" Tim really didn't know why his brother thought he had anything to do with the thing that brought him back before, he didn't really care either.
He watched as Jason scrunched up his nose and looked around the room.
"This place reeks of death more than the pit caves Ra's used. If you didn't come back, then why does it smell so bad?"
Jason was more connected to the pit than his other family members who'd been around them, Tim knew he wasn't lying about the smell. A trickle of cold creeped down his back as he started getting an idea as to what caused it. He didn't want to be right.
His older brother had redoubled his investigation, trying to pinpoint the source of the stench. Eyes finally landing on his bedside table, he swept the stack of papers onto the floor and grabbed the previously obscured ice statue. Tim's creeping feeling got stronger as his brother slowly turned to face him, green seeping into his normally blue eyes.
"Where the hell did you get this?" Jason asked with forced calm, gripping the statuette so hard Tim thought it might crumble.
"A friend gave it to me," he replied smoothly. It was the truth, his friend made him the statue of suspiciously never melting ice and he didn't question it.
The first twisting the collar of his hospital gown told him he maybe should have, as he was yanked forwards, pulling at the wires and tubes attached to him. Nearly off the bed now, Jason asked with Lazarus green in his eyes. "Who. Gave. You. This?"
Tim struggled to keep the groan of pain from escaping him. The drainage tube in his chest was being pulled in a very not fun way, and he would really like to not have Alfred redo his work in patching him up.
"I told you, I got it from a friend," he ground out.
Jason was about to say something else when an invisible force knocked him to the side and off his feet. The room dropped twenty degrees and the lights started flickering as Tim could feel hands on him. Cold and too long to be human, they kept him from falling forward off the bed and face planting on the floor. Gingerly laying him back down, his friend made sure nothing was taken out or reopened before raising in the air. Tim could feel the anger radiating off his friend in frigid waves, falling heavy like mist off dry ice and charged with electricity.
Jason could feel it too, as he looked exactly where Tim knew Arcturus was floating and pointed, hand cupping his cheek and still holding the statue.
"How the hell did you get a pit demon as a pet?!" He exclaimed.
Confused, Tim asked "what the hell is a pit demon?"
He watched as his brother looked from him to Arcturus and back, face cemented in shock and disbelief.
"You mean you don't know what the hell this is?!" Jason waves his arms in his friend's general direction. "Why are you not freaked out by this then?!"
The cold anger had died down some, replaced by static white noise and breaking ice. Shrugging as best he could, Tim replied, "he's not the weirdest thing I've seen, and he's pretty friendly too."
Jason was thrown. Could Tim not see the black cloud of twisted human floating in front of him? With eyes greener than Lazarus water on an expanse of black, hair dancing and jerking like it was underwater and getting electrocuted at the same time. The thing was only vaguely human shaped, a black cloud in the form of a body with no legs, and arms clad in white gloves ending in claws long and sharp enough to be daggers. He didn't want to look at it for long, its beady eyes stared right into his soul and face contorted into a snarl that held too many teeth for anything natural.
Tim still looked confused, why was he confused? Jason was about to get re-killed by something the pit water inside him curled up and cowered in fear of. He doubted he stood a snowball's chance in hell against this thing and his brother was sitting there like nothing was wrong.
Okay, Danny clearly missed a memo before flying into his friend's rescue, so he's maybe a little confused on some things. Like firstly, Tim wasn't actually acting like he was in danger from this guy, despite him nearly pulling out all the equipment helping Tim to heal. His friend looked confused and mildly annoyed at most by New Guy's presence. Secondly, New Guy stank. Rotting ectoplasm stench seeped from him like he got dipped in a zone waste pool. Other than the green tinged in his eyes, though, he seemed otherwise okay, which was just another point of confusion. Lastly, his thoughts echoed what Tim had asked before. What the hell was a pit demon?
"I'm not a pet," he grumbled offhandedly. He knew neither human could understand him—ghost speak couldn't be made by human mouths or processed entirely by human brains. Regular people just heard crackling static and creaking glaciers with emotional intent when he spoke it. He turned to check on Tim more thoroughly when he heard an unexpected reply.
"Then why the hell is a pit demon staying around my little brother," Jason breathed. Replying to the things grumbling wasn't the smartest thing to do, but the fact that something he thought wasn't even sentient had said something he could understand had basically turned his brain off.
That couldn't have been directed at Danny, could it? Maybe not going human for a while had him hearing things. Checking Tim over again helped his form settle at least, but now his brain spun with the possibilities. Also, this dude was Tim's big brother? Pretty dick move of him to hurt Tim for their first meeting then. Not even Dick did that.
Tim was still looking between Jason and Arct. Did his brother just reply to the static hissing he'd heard before? Was that actually his friend trying to communicate? But then how could Arct understand English? And lastly.
"You didn't answer my question Jason—what's a pit demon, and why do you think there's one in this room?" If Jason knew what his friend was then maybe they could figure out a way to communicate better.
Okay, so apparently Tim didn't know what the affront to nature tucking him in was, that was fine. Jason had to swallow down the bile working its way up his throat. At least the thing's form had settled enough he could look at it now. It was almost- Jason couldn't say human looking. With purple tinged skin, pointed ears and fingers, and eyes that shone brighter and greener than any pit he'd come across, no way could this thing actually pass for human. Didn't stop it from trying though, it had formed actual legs while Jason had been staring, making the thing about as tall as he was. The clothes it was wearing, a baggy black hoodie and cargo pants almost made the thing resemble a teenager, one who prefers comfort and function over style. Its gaze swept over him and he'd realized he hadn't said anything for too long.
Keeping his eyes on the demon next to his brother, Jason stood up on shaking legs.
"A pit demon is just what it sounds like, a thing that couldn't possibly be human that crawled out of a Lazarus pit. Surprised demon brat hasn't already tried to chase it off, but I remember something about only those 'chosen by the pit' being able to see it or some shit. Don't remember much else other than that they're extremely violent and attack anything with a heartbeat."
Well, Tim was at a loss. His friend was supposedly from a race that came out of the Lazarus pits to attack people, yet so far his friend has only hurt those who hurt Tim first. He turned his gaze to where he felt his friend standing, remembering what he could of when they'd saved him. Sure, Arcturus wasn't human, but he wasn't that monstrous, right?
"That's bullshit," came out of Danny before he could stop himself. So that's what people thought of the ghosts that used the waste pools? He knew they could be used to travel between the zone and the human world, but they stank of rotting ectoplasm too much for him to ever want to try it. Sighing he used a bit of intangibility to swipe the statuette out of Tim's brothers—Jason's?—hand. Only revelling slightly from the full body jerk he caused in doing so.
Okay, so, Jason wasn't hearing things before. He clearly heard the thing speak. It was also aware of how terrifying it was if the smile at making Jason recoil was anything to go off.
"You do realize this thing is horrifying to look at, right?" He told his brother, not taking his eyes off the thing that could potentially eviscerate the whole house.
Tim's eyes grew wide. "You can see them?!" He exclaimed in surprise.
Danny's words echoed Tim's almost perfectly. "You can see me?" The static in his voice popping like a live wire as he sat the statuette down on the nightstand.
"Yeah I can see you, ya freak of nature. How'd you end up in Gotham? There aren't any pits for you to crawl out from near here." Was Jason possibly inciting the anger of the thing that could rip him to shreds? Yes, yes he was, but he had to know whether or not a new pit had formed close to Gotham in case the League came a-calling.
"Ancients, you can understand me?!" Danny had to keep his eyes from going beyond human wide. He was talking to someone that wasn't dead. In ghost speak! Was it a side effect of the waste water in his system, maybe? How it got there was a question he didn't need to know right now as he just looked at the guy that had answered him.
"Yeah?" Jason drawled wearily, that was not the reaction he expected. "You sound like you're talking over a Tesla coil, but you're speaking English, right?" He looked to his brother for aid but only saw the calculated look all bats used when they didn't want to openly appear confused.
Looking back, the thing had risen from its seat, literally. It was floating in a sitting position about two feet above the chair.
"I've never heard of a human that could understand ghost speak before!" The thing said excitedly.
"And I've never known a pit demon that could speak at all before," he replied without thinking.
The thing cocked its head. "Well most ghosts that use the waste pools just use them to get into the human world to cause chaos, not to talk. Any ghost with any ounce of self respect would either find a natural portal or make one."
"Ghost? Portals? Are you saying pit demons are dead people? And that they come to earth through more than just the Lazarus pits?" That was a terrifying thought. More monsters coming to earth from ways other than the pits? Who knows what destruction they could—have already—cause. "There any way to stop them?"
"No? Natural portals are random, and ghosts that can make portals themselves prefer to stay in the zone where it's safe? Why should I even be telling you this, you don't look like you have the weapons to fight a ghost. Who are you anyway?"
Jason looked at his brother (who looked entirely lost at this point) back to the pit demon—ghost?—that was watching him with suspicion, feet back in the ground and firmly seated in the chair.
"Hey, Replacement," he chuckled but cut it to a cough at the things scowl. "You haven't told your buddy about me yet? I'm hurt, really."
Finally being included into the conversation, and it was to introduce the asshole of a brother to his possibly terrifying friend? Tim sighed and waved his good hand at the end of the bed.
"Arcturus, this is my older adoptive brother, Jason Todd, aka Red Hood. Jason, this-" he motioned to the chair "-is my new friend, I call him Arcturus because he can't say his real name."
Jason snorts and finally peels his eyes off the dead thing in front of him. "Really Timmy? You see what is essentially an eldritch terror and decide to name it after a star?" At his little brother's blush he couldn't help but laugh. "How cheesy can you get?" He said between breaths.
Meanwhile, Danny was having a crisis. He had punched Red Hood. In the face. He had punched his favourite Gotham vigilante in the face. Ancients end him right now. He wanted to scream.
"I just my favourite vigilante in the face for my friend," he groaned instead, putting his face in his hands.
Jason had to laugh harder at that. He couldn't help it, you couldn't make this shit up if you tried.
"Hey Timmy," he wheezed. "Your friend here just said I'm his favourite vigilante. Take that!"
Without looking up Danny took one hand off his face to point at Red Hood (ancients, Red Hood, his helmet was on the floor beside him how did he not notice?!)
"Second favourite," was all he could muster while reconsidering his half-life choices.
At the confused squawk of "hey!" He smirked and added, "Red Robin isn't an ass, so he got you beat there."
By the way Jason was pouting and the room finally went back to its regular temperature, Tim could at least tell they weren't at each other's throats anymore.
"What did he say?" Tim asked.
"I've been demoted to second favourite. Dead guy can't handle sass." The reply had him chuckling, definitely not hostile anymore, that was good.
"Sounds like another dead guy I know," he commented. The look Jason gave him could have been angry, if the indignant undertone didn't make it so funny.
Huh, so the whole 'Jason Todd died but got better' thing wasn't just a rumour then. Interesting.
"So you're such a sore loser you came back just to spite death? Talk about petty," he joked at the vigilante as he lifted his face out of his hand. Another thing to have in common with one of his favourite heroes (anti-heroes?), they just couldn't stay dead.
Jason clicked his tongue at the ghost, "whatever you Kirby villain reject." The bark of laughter from his right and the stuttering in front of him had him feeling a lot better about his brother's safety. Yeah, he might not be able to beat the thing in front of him, but maybe he wouldn't have to. The fact that he could think clearly after not feeling the pit move since Tim's friend appeared helped.
"Alright, as fun as this meet and greet was, I need to head back to the Narrows." His brother's laughter died down as he slapped his knees and stood up. Still keeping a safe distance from Tim's dead friend he grabbed his discarded helmet and put his domino mask back on.
"Oh yeah," he heard Tim call out from behind him, "why'd you even come in the first place? I know you didn't do it just to annoy me."
Jason was glad he'd reasserted his domino mask as he half turned to view his brother. He looked him up and down one last time with a conflicted expression before turning back to walk out.
"A guy can be worried for his brother sometimes, give me some credit," he confided as he left for his bike.
The silence followed the rumble of Jason's bike out of the cave. That was not what Tim was expecting in this conversation at all. Jason came to check on him? He was worried about Tim? Shock couldn't begin to describe the mix of emotions he was feeling with that revelation.
A hum to his right brought him out of his musings as he turned his head to look at the space where his friend should be.
"So, that was my brother Jason." He huffed. "He's kind of an asshole, but he's family. The pit messed with his head a bit so he has some anger issues. Also I took over as Robin after he died, and since he's come back has pretty much thought of me as a replacement. I'm pretty sure he only uses the nickname as a joke now, though." That sounded better in his head. "He's seriously not that bad a guy though," he added on more as an afterthought.
He watched as the statuette lifted off its base as his friend showed he acknowledged the statement. A burst of cold then hit Tim square in the face. That was his friend's sign he was being self deprecating and, yeah, he kind of deserved that.
Comfortable silence enveloped the two as they both individually processed the encounter. The statue floating about half a foot off the seat of the chair in what Tim supposed was Arcturus' lap. He realized Jason had basically confirmed a few things about Arcturus through talking to him in the conversation Tim could only understand half of.
"Hey," the model twitched, "you can speak English, right? Not just that static noise that lets me tell what you're feeling?"
One dip of the statue means that yes, his friend could speak to him if he wanted to.
"Is there some reason you don't then? A reason you don't speak directly to me?" He watched as the statue stayed floating in its position for a moment, then almost reluctantly dipped a 'yes.'
"Why then?" The static that filled the room was charged with paranoia and distrust. It hurt, just a bit, but it didn't all feel directed at him.
"Do you not trust me then?" A rapid jerk to the side must count for a big 'no,' which made him feel a little better.
"…Maybe you don't trust my family?" Tim had found that if the statue didn't move, then he was halfway to the answer. Mulling the statement over a moment it dawned on him, it was stupid of him not to have realized sooner.
"You don't trust the bats, do you?" The statue dipping again meant 'yes' and tilted almost vertically. Was his friend showing he was ashamed in doing that? It didn't sting Tim quite as much as his friend not trusting him and he knew Bruce alone made a lot of reasons for any supernatural creature to stay out of Gotham. Tim turned his head to look at his lap as the gears spun in his head.
"Why did you stick around me then? I'm Red Robin, a part of Gotham's protectors, weren't I someone you should have avoided?" Maybe Tim didn't want to know the answer, but he had to ask for the safety of his family. If his friend got close to him just to get to his family, well, maybe Tim wasn't as smart as he thought he was.
The crunching sound of boots under snow mixed with a tuning radio had Tim feeling things he hadn't in a while. Curiosity and childish glee filled his chest with a warmth that was almost bringing tears to his eyes. Wiping away the damp he turned back to his friend with a smile.
"You can trust me, you know. Maybe you don't right now, and that's okay. But I promise I'll get you to trust me eventually." His voice was dripping with conviction that for once wasn't forced.
And if the hum he got back wasn't charged with emotion and only gave off a little reverb? Well, he could keep that to himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y'know, when I originally rote this chapter I thought 'Kirby villain reject' was suck a great insult for something that looked like Danny. It just fits him, given his eldretch-ness in this fic.
Also, Kidnappable should absolutely be a real word. Calling it now.
Also also! This chapter has fanart! You can find it here!
[Ao3][Prev][Next]
#danny phantom#danny fenton#tim drake#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dpxdc#batman#dc x dp#ham writes#chapter fic#chapter 4
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Watcher ~ Part Two
Part One
Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.
Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!
Word Count: 3.5k
Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!
CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!
The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush.
Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine.
You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker.
Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization.
You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’.
“Hello?” You ask warily.
After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine.
“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”
“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.
As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”
Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.”
“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.
“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance.
As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake.
Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming.
You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.
The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts.
“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”
The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop.
“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.
“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach.
After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow.
“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps.
After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option.
“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness.
“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly.
“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects.
Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands.
When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go.
“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened.
He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?”
“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to.
“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.
You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”
Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son.
His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.
“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”
Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate.
“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs.
Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home.
“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.
“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse.
Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”
You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.
“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?”
You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible.
He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom.
“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out.
“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?”
Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you.
He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention.
“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.
“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”
“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”
“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.
Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.
He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to��do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.
“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”
He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.
To be continued...
Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!
#rafe cameron#drew starkey#obx season 4#outer banks#outer banks netflix#outer banks season 4#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#obx4part2#rafe x reader#outerbanks season 4#outer banks fanfiction#obx4#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks fanfiction#thewatcher#perv!rafe#stalker!rafe#rafe x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#pogue!reader#outerbanks x you#rafesbabyg1rl
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tech aspect
This is actually kind of old but, when it was 2020 and I was quarantined, I thought to myself, "What if KHR characters have use zoom and stuff to communicate during covid? What would be their usernames?"
so I ended up making many usernames, and then I wondered what kind of phone they would use... to what wallpaper... and profile pic anndd... Well, I didn't get much school work done in those days obviously.
Thanks to @ilx-8s, 'cause I had honestly forgotten I had this! Took me an hour to find it.
Tsuna would use something totally boring like tsuna27 — every other day Reborn hacks (read: he just knows where Tsuna keeps his passwords) into his account and changes it to VongDecimo to
His profile picture is just a very badly taken picture of Nattsu (or is it Nuts?)
Gokudera goes with 10RightHand, which has basically everyone and their mother asking him if that means he has 10 pairs of right hands
He doesn't have a profile picture but his status are hilarious, "The Tenth praised me for getting rid of some delinquents!" or "That idiot Yamamoto thinks he can be a better right hand than me but he's wrong", basically it reads like diary entries
Yamamoto was told he could use anything he liked so he went for baseball_yama, except for the fact that "yama" means "mountain" so it's basically a joke meaning "baseball_mountain"
He's actually the most normal out of all of them and his profile picture is just a him playing baseball
Ryohei is an idiot and his username would be boxing11111111111111111111111111, because he forgot to press shift and those exclamation marks came out as 1s
It was his sister Kyoko who set his profile picture to a boxing glove
Hibari didn't even want to make an account so someone else did it for him and his username would be hibari. with a period at the end like some kind of boomer
He did, however, decide his profile picture and that's Hibird
Mukuro only got one because the Kokuyo members made a private server to communicate and he didn't want to be left out (although, of course, he will never admit that). His username would be best_illusionist (everyone had to change usernames to match his)
Whoever keeps changing his profile picture to a pineapple WILL BE STABBED (it's a joint effort between all the members)
Chrome would be the only allowed to keep her original username, kuromu_kuromi
She's part of two servers: Kokuyo High and CuteGirls
Her profile picture is Kuromi
Lambo would only be allowed to get an account when he's older, age restriction! Anyway, at 13 he was probably still a brat so he would be LAMBOISTHESTRONGESTHITMANEVERRRR, unfortunately usernames cannot be capped
He did eventually change his username to llambo_bbovino
His profile picture is a picture of him trying to be charming, except that just made the other guardians tease him
Reborn goes by reborobot and acts like a spam bot to get on Tsuna's nerves — he also has a bunch of other accounts, because, again, he has to make Tsuna's life hell
Kyoko was probably the one to suggest getting a discord so that the girls could get together, and her username would be kyoko_mymelody
She's the main admin for the CuteGirls server (yes, this is definitely a joke on PreCure)
Her profile picture is My Melody
Haru was the one who suggested using Sanrìo character as usernames (because codenames are cool), her username would be haru_keroppi
She told everyone to choose the one character they loved the most or the one they related to
Her profile picture is her dressed as Keroppi
Unfortunately, I don't have the other characters because someone (yes me!) stopped at Enma....!
#I hope this is fine#took me some time to write it all down 'cause this was all in a table with comments#it really surprises me how much free time I had#ALSO I'M SORRY ENMA YOU'RE JUST SO HARD TO IMAGINE#khr#katekyo hitman reborn#I also have the same information on my OCs
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Theories/Predictions in no particular order:
That box has something important inside. I think you might’ve mentioned Jason’s sketches of Leo, so I suppose that could be it. I predict that that’ll be what made Leo realise he loved Jason Like That
Leo meets his mom in the underworld. There’s gonna have to be a reason why Leo couldn’t bring her back too, unless he does. Idk I’m fixated on EPIC the musical and the Underwold saga is my favourite so I’m picturing something like that.
Idk if this would happen but I really wanna see some Leo/Beckendorf interactions taking place. Maybe Jason got to talking with him in Elysium and they became friends but he’s sad because Beckendorf and Silena remind him so much of Leo and Piper.
Leo talks with Nico and/or Hazel about his underworld trip before going. I don’t know if Nico would be supportive, because he seemed pretty unhappy about Leo coming back from the dead, and he also had this whole thing in botl where he chose not to exchange Daedalus’ life for Bianca’s that everyone including Rick forgot about- but he also brought back Hazel just like how Leo brought back Jason, so…
But Nico posing the argument of “maybe death should not be messed with” might be interesting. Rick kinda tried to do that in canon but then half-arsed it
Going off on a tangent here, but that’s the interpretation that I personally choose to go with, with the whole “Leo coming back was the reason Jason died” thing. Not that he cheated the prophecy, just that he cheated death and Hades or the gods or the fates or whoever (my theory is Nemesis, who’s all about keeping balance) decided as punishment Jason would die- so any sort of repercussions for Leo bringing Jason back (effectively cheating death twice) would be interesting to explore, but I understand if that just makes Plot harder to Plot.
Also some Leo/Hazel interactions- especially after Leo giving up his life to stop Gaea just like Hazel did and being given a second chance (we were robbed of that in TOA). Hazel has experience from the other end of that as Nico basically Orpheus and Eurydice’d her himself.
I feel like Leo blaming himself for Jason’s death might all come spilling out in a big dramatic moment at some point. Either with Piper or Jason or both.
Idk if he’d tell Emmie and Jo about where he’s going but either way I don’t think they’d let him so it’d be interesting to see how you handle that.
Not really a prediction but just… canonically Jason was still in his school uniform when he died… just leaving that there.
Thanatos shows up. Idk how but I think it’d be cool if he shows up.
Once they get out of the underworld, Leo and Jason just start sobbing. Bonus points if that’s the first time they cry together. I hc Jason doesn’t cry very often, so any moments that he does could be very powerful. I’m thinking something along the lines of the book “Lord of The Flies” when they get rescued and all the kids just sort of break down crying, weeping for all of humanity. Something angsty like that.
““Jason was… well, he took it exactly like I expected him to. He was surprised, but he didn’t get angry or anything. He mostly seemed okay. Part of me wonders if maybe…” But whatever Piper had been thinking about, she seemed to decide it wasn’t important.” OOH PIPER’S GAYDAR WAS TINGLING WASN’T IT??
Feel free to use this as inspiration for anything (although I’m running the risk of Telling You How To Write Your Fic which I don’t wanna do). I realise some of this might be way off so I’ll be sitting here with my bingo card when the full fic is posted to see what comes up.
Also English is your THIRD language and your grammar in fics is still better than those to whom it’s their FIRST??!! I tip my hat to thee.
The choiceless hope in grief
Summary: Leo Valdez has lived and died for the gods. Their war has shaped his life since he was a baby. With Gaia defeated, he sort of hopes he can finally rest. He has friends and some semblance of home to return to for the first time since he was eight years old. Just this once, he allows himself to hope the good things might stick.
But the gods aren’t done with them just yet, by the time Leo finds his way back, Jason is gone.
This time, Leo decides he’s done just taking the Fates’ bullshit lying down. If getting his best friend back means striking a deal with the gods and venturing into the Underworld… well, it’s probably not even the most reckless thing he’s ever done.
The caveat of said deal? He has to trust Jason will follow him, or his self-doubt will doom them both.
And after the life he’s lived, Leo is so intricately familiar with self-doubt that he could probably trademark the word.
Or: The only possible way for Orpheus to succeed is if he learns to think of himself as a person worth loving.
Word Count for chapter 1: ~5k
Rating: Teen and Up
So! *claps hands together* I’ve been threatening you guys with my Orpheus Eurydice valgrace fic for a while! Technically I wanted to wait to post this until I’m completely done writing the fic, and I mostly intend to stick to that! I’m only posting this now because I have a minor surgery tomorrow and I’d rather be anxious about fic related things than about the surgery in question. So, take this chapter as a preview of sorts, more to come soon-ish but probably not immediately!
A couple of important notes before we start:
-TW for suicidal ideation. It’s less Leo actually wanting to die and more his canon behavior of “I’m doing something extremely reckless that might succeed but if it doesn’t, my death is an acceptable consequence”, paired with general grief related self-loathing, but if you think you’re not in the right headspace to read about that, come back when you are or at least tread carefully. This fic pics up at the end of The Burning Maze, so especially the beginning is pretty heavy on the grief stuff.
-Since ToA is vaguely canon to this fic, Leo and Calypso are technically dating in the beginning, but they don’t really interact positively as a couple (honestly they don’t interact that much in general) and break up pretty early on. Just be aware in advance that they’re still together for a little bit.
-Fic title is from Talk by Hozier which is maybe a painfully obvious pick but it was too perfect for me not to use it.
Chapter 1: Leo and Piper have an extended sleepover
It wasn’t a discussion between Leo and Piper whether or not to go to Jason’s funeral. They came to the decision that they wouldn’t silently—or as silently as one could come to an agreement when all parties involved were sobbing.
Maybe it should have been a discussion. There was a part of Leo that worried he’d regret this later—his refusal to take this chance to say goodbye and let himself grieve.
But Leo remembered his mother’s funeral. Remembered the way his aunt Rosa had looked at him like she knew his mother’s death had been his fault. Leo couldn’t stand the thought of people looking at him like that again.
He also didn’t remember his mother’s funeral bringing him any sense of closure or comfort. He’d stood at her grave, afterwards, just as desperate and afraid and utterly inconsolable as he’d been before the funeral, except it had suddenly felt sickeningly final. The wound it had torn in his soul had kept bleeding for years, and the scars would stay forever. He didn’t need any of Apollo’s shitty oracles to know Jason’s death would be exactly the same.
At this point, Leo was pretty sure his sanity was being held together by a combination of jokes and a truly questionable amount of duct tape.
Beyond all that, though, Camp Jupiter was a battlefield right now. It would continue to be a battlefield for the foreseeable future.
Leo wasn’t a coward. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back and help. But one of his best friends was already in a box, and there was no way in hell he’d risk the other.
With how tightly Piper was clinging to him, maybe she was thinking the same thing.
For all his big talk about dragon escorts, Festus did most of the actual escorting on his own, occasionally torching what Leo hoped were monsters and not random public monuments. Leo, for his part, spent most of the journey crammed into the backseat of the car next to Piper, sandwiched between her and a bunch of moving boxes that seemed determined to flatten him into a Leo-shaped pancake whenever they took a sharp turn.
He’d spent so long thinking about seeing her and Jason again.
He’d talked Calypso’s ear off about them the whole journey, to the point where it had clearly started to annoy her. He’d thought about various ridiculous entrances he could make, and the fact that he’d probably get yelled at, but he’d also thought about sitting together by the campfire, sharing nachos. He’d thought about Jason hugging him so fiercely that he couldn’t breathe, and Piper cussing him out while she held him, making him promise never to do anything that reckless again.
Now Piper was actually holding him, and Leo couldn’t feel anything. There was a numbness in his chest. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to ever feel happiness again. Hell, even if he did, what was the fucking point? Every time anything even remotely good happened in his life, it got ripped away from him again.
They didn’t talk a whole lot for most of the drive. They cried until it felt like they couldn’t anymore, clinging to each other like desperate children.
Even if they’d wanted to talk about what had happened, Piper’s dad was right there, and despite the Mist usually working overtime for them, having him overhear seemed like a gamble. Or, well, maybe that was what Leo told himself. Maybe he just wasn't sure he was ready to hear it all. He still felt like he couldn’t think. He was overwhelmed to hell and couldn’t stop fidgeting.
Several hours into the trip, his stomach started grumbling. Piper dug through the bag at her feet and offered him one of her PB&J sandwiches, but Leo couldn’t eat. He hadn’t skipped a meal in forever—he’d been homeless and unsure when he’d even get access to the next meal enough times that it had been all but tattooed into his skull that he couldn’t afford to—but he couldn’t even think about eating without feeling sick. He thought about Jason. He thought about the state he’d left Camp Jupiter in and the fact that they hadn’t even been able to give the dead their proper funeral rites.
Had Leo’s help made any difference at all? Had anything he’d done in his life changed things even slightly?
Leo knew the Fates had intended for it to be fire that fell—for him to burn in a bright, hot blaze and turn himself to charcoal. But he’d refused to stay dead like a good little pawn, and now Jason was gone, and it was all his fault.
He wasn’t sure how Piper could even look at him right now, but he was beyond grateful that she was holding onto him as tightly as she did. It was the only reason he didn’t fall to pieces completely. The cog at the heart of Leo’s machine had broken in a way that made it utterly beyond repair, and now it felt like a matter of time before the whole thing came apart. Piper holding him was the only reason his remaining pieces were still functioning.
It should have been impossible for Leo to fall asleep under these circumstances, but he’d been traveling for hours and fighting before then and he’d cried out his remaining energy, so eventually, the world started to fade around him, reduced to just the sound of Piper’s breaths, until finally, those went, too.
~~~~
It would have been kinder, maybe, if Leo had dreamed up some shitty visions promising violent death and/or the end of the world. That would have been business as usual.
Instead, he dreamed of his time on the Argo II—of one of those early nights when the different groups were still getting to know each other, having a brief moment to breathe between their ridiculous tasks and saving the world.
It had seemed reasonable to catch each other up on what had happened on their end. Percy, Hazel and Frank had talked about rescuing Thanatos, and Piper, Jason and Leo had told them what had happened with Hera in turn.
This would have been a boring intel conversation at best, seeing as Leo had been there for all of their part, but they’d grabbed snacks and sat on cushions on the floor and made it a whole bonding activity. Jason had been wedged between Piper and Leo, and they’d taken turns storytelling.
And Jason had bragged. So much. But he hadn’t even had the decency to brag about himself like a normal human being. Instead, he’d talked about how capable Piper and Leo had been, somehow managing to make Leo sound like the coolest person he’d ever met. Which was ridiculous, considering he’d met everyone else on their team.
And sure, Leo made it sound like he thought he was amazing all the time, but he was exaggerating, which everyone, himself included, knew.
Jason didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, though. He had one arm wrapped around Leo the whole evening, and he got all starry-eyed when he talked.
“Leo took on three Cyclopes by himself. Three!”
“Dude, stop!” Leo had laughed, shaking his head. “I know I’m incredible and you’re blessed to be friends with me and stuff, but you weren’t even conscious for that part.”
“Still happened, though.” Jason had beamed at him. “You’re amazing, dude. I would have died about fifteen times on that mission if it hadn’t been for you. You guys should’ve seen him.”
It would have been easier if Leo had thought Jason was just trying to talk him up to the others to make them more willing to trust him after how badly he’d messed up in New Rome, but Jason wasn’t the type. He’d looked like he honestly believed every single word he was saying.
So, of course, Leo had refused to seriously deal with any of the things that made him feel.
“Sorry, Pipes, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is in love with me. It’s the fire powers, I’m afraid. I’m just too hot to resist,” Leo had joked instead, and Piper had untangled herself from Jason’s other side to throw Doritos at Leo, and everything had been right in the universe.
~~~~
Waking up from that, blearily blinking himself awake in the car full of moving boxes and remembering… that was a worse punch in the gut than waking up from most nightmares had been. And Leo should know. He’d had so many of those over the years that he was basically a certified nightmare expert at this point.
Leo wanted to go back in time and spend forever in that one evening, living it over and over and over again until the Fates or a temporal paradox or something eventually killed him. He wanted to hold on to what they’d been back then—the three of them together and happy and whole,back before they’d realized what the prophecy really meant.
He wanted to stay wrapped in Jason’s arm and hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke Leo came up with while he and Piper threw snacks at each other like ten year olds. He wanted to believe he could actually be the person Jason was bragging about—this invincible hero that could do just about anything and saved people’s lives.
But Leo had never been that hero. Even his sacrifice had been the selfish decision of a coward who wasn’t ready to die just yet. Jason had been their Superman. The guy who could fly and threw lightning and saved people from falling to their deaths. Jason had been the hero. And ultimately, that had been what killed him.
Leo wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do once they got to Oklahoma. He should have been heading back to the Waystation, to give Calypso the normal life he’d promised. But he wasn’t thinking about Calypso, or the Waystation, and the thought of a normal life had gone out of the window the second he’d seen the coffin. Besides, the Waystation would mean people asking questions, wanting to know about his mission and asking him to talk about his feelings, and he didn’t want that.
The only thing Leo really wanted to do right now was not think.
By the time they got to the house, it was so late that cross-country dragon flight seemed inadvisable for visibility reasons alone, so Leo agreed to stay the night. Festus nuzzled him for a bit, got a fuel snack from the canister Leo had brought and then folded down into his million pound suitcase form for the night.
It took a little under two hours to carry all the boxes inside, which was an annoying amount of time to be carrying boxes but seemed like an absurdly short amount to move the contents of an entire life.
They spent some time in search of the necessities that needed to be unpacked, but the house was still furnished and also had running water and electricity as of a few days ago, so it wasn’t that bad.
While Piper went in search of some ancient camping gear so Leo wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor—this seemed silly to him, the floor was far from the worst place he’d ever slept—Leo asked Piper’s dad if he could help with dinner.
Tristan looked relieved at his offer, actually. He’d been staring at the assorted vegetables with a slightly lost expression, trying to hack at one of the zucchinis with a butter knife. It seemed like he was trying to remember how cooking worked and had just discovered he had absolutely no idea.
Considering how long he’d been an insanely rich guy with a personal cook, Leo guessed that actually might have been a pretty accurate read on the situation.
“You might want to try a sharper knife,” Leo suggested, which made Piper’s dad look absolutely mortified. “Try not to chop off any of your fingers, though. I think Piper’s been traumatized enough for one week.”
The words were out of his mouth before Leo could think to stop them. Tristan didn’t laugh, but at least it didn’t seem like he’d be tossing Leo out of the house over this. Maybe he realized people sometimes said stupid shit when they were grieving. Maybe Piper had just warned him in advance that Leo was like this sometimes.
Tristan just went to find a different knife, which would have maybe been concerning if he hadn’t gone back to hacking at the vegetables a moment later.
“Well, at least this one is actually cutting through the zucchinis. That’s already an improvement.”
“Yeah, I’m basically a cooking expert,” Leo said with a grin, only half-joking. He went to peel and chop up the carrots, and was done with those and about half the mushrooms by the time the poor zucchini had been hacked to bits.
“You and Piper went to school together, right?” Tristan asked after a while of them quietly chopping vegetables for the casserole, trying to make sense of things with information he didn’t have and that, judging from past evidence, probably would have made his skull crack. “You and her and Jason.”
“Yeah. We went to Wilderness school together.” Leo winced, trying not to think too hard of Jason while also trying to remember the lies they’d already told Piper’s dad. At this rate, he was pretty worried his own skull would crack, too. “Then all three of us switched to a different school. Then I was gone for a while.”
Tristan nodded like this made perfect sense, though he mostly seemed lost in thought. That was a little rude, in Leo’s opinion. If he went through all that effort to remember their elaborate setup of lies, the least Piper’s dad could do was appreciate it!
“I’m glad you’re here now, with everything that’s happened. Piper was really upset when you left,” Tristan said, still with that faraway look in his eyes. “The last few months were hard for her. Between the move and the breakup, she really could have used a friend.”
Leo promptly lost all rights to make fun of Piper’s dad and his vegetable chopping skills because at the word ‘breakup’, the knife slipped and he nearly sliced off two of his fingers.
“Fuck! Ow!” he said eloquently, trying to avoid bleeding all over the cutting board in his attempt to get to the sink. “Jason and Piper broke up?”
The question sounded absurd even to his own ears. Why would Jason and Piper break up? They’d been happy together.
Surely, Piper’s dad had to be talking about something else.
To Leo’s shock, Tristan nodded.
“A while ago, yes,” he said, but he didn’t go into details—possibly because Leo was bleeding all over the sink. “We should bandage that. Do you think you need stitches?”
“No, the cuts aren’t that deep,” Leo decided, turning on the faucet and holding his bleeding hand under the stream of cold water. Maybe he should have been more concerned about the injury, but his mind was still whirring at the thought of his best friends breaking up. Unfortunately, the cold water stung like hell. He hissed with pain. “Sorry for making your kitchen look like a crime scene right after moving in. Usually, I at least have the decency to wait a day or two.”
Because the house was a small, cozy place and Leo had not had the decency to curse quietly, Piper appeared in the doorway a moment later, an alarmed expression on her face.
“What happened?”
“I’ve been bested by a stupid potato,” Leo cursed, holding up his bleeding hand and wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He figured out immediately that this was a mistake. “Ow.”
“Stop that, dumbass!” Piper cursed, moving to stand beside him. “Sink was the right call, but you need to use soap or the cuts could get infected. Dad, any chance we have gauze lying around somewhere?”
Tristan didn’t seem to question why his daughter had immediately jumped into emergency medical treatment mode. He just abandoned the cutting board and headed for the front door.
“Not exactly sure what box our regular medical supplies are in, but I’ll get the first aid kit from the car. I’ll be right back.”
“Do we have to do the soap?” Leo whined, because fuck, that stung, but Piper nodded with a scary expression on her face, so he complied. “How do you even know this stuff? Are we sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”
“I know this stuff because I’m friends with a bunch of morons who have zero sense of self-preservation,” Piper cursed, gritting her teeth. “You shouldn’t be around knives when you’re this distracted.”
“I can usually cook just fine when I’m distracted. Your dad was the one who told me you and Jason broke up in the middle of this stupid potato,” Leo said defensively. “Is that the Mist messing with him?”
That was the only explanation his mind had supplied so far that made any sense to him.
Piper shook her head. “We really did break up. That was a few months ago.”
Leo felt his jaw hit the floor.
“What the hell happened? You were together for ages. I thought- you always seemed so happy.”
“I know, but-” Piper broke off abruptly when her dad came back inside with the first aid kit. Demigod stuff, then?
Leo’s mind was racing. The breakup was a completely stupid thing to focus on, considering everything that had happened in the last few days. He knew that.
But it was easier to try and make sense of this than it was to try and make sense of the fact that Jason was gone and he’d never get to see him again.
“Is it alright if we do this somewhere else?” Piper asked her dad, taking the first aid kit from him.
“Of course. It might be easier to patch him up when you’re both sitting down, anyway.” He turned towards Leo. “Thank you for your help, but I think I can take it from here.”
Leo sent a silent prayer to whichever deity was responsible for protecting vegetables—Demeter, probably?—and gave what he hoped was an encouraging thumbs up with his uninjured hand before he followed Piper into the hallway to presumably be reprimanded some more.
~~~~ They ended up sitting on an old bed that looked like it had lived a long, miserable life and was excited for retirement, but the wooden frame thankfully didn’t break down under the weight of the new mattress or the additional weight of them sitting on said mattress. Piper explained that this had been her dad’s room when he’d lived here as a child, and that it would probably become her room now. Then she went very quiet and focused on bandaging his hand, clearly avoiding looking at him.
“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” Leo asked. The thought made him feel ill. “Please tell me it wasn’t something like, I don’t know, you two being unable to stand being around each other after what happened to me. I think I’d actually have to blow myself up again if it was.”
He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn’t feel like one at all. The thought that he'd managed to ruin his best friends’ relationship on top of everything else made it hard to breathe.
When Piper shook her head, it felt like a whole boulder was lifted off his shoulders.
“I actually think we would have broken up sooner if you hadn’t gone missing. We leaned on each other a lot after you disappeared. It wasn’t until we realized we wouldn’t find you and things started to settle down a little that I had time to think. And when I did…” Her voice went very quiet, and she still didn’t look up at him. “I realized I wasn’t happy in the relationship. I don’t think I ever was.”
“How did I not know that?” Leo wondered quietly. “I just… you two seemed happy to me. What kind of garbage best friend am I?”
Piper shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. I was telling myself I was happy for a long time. It’s almost- sometimes I wonder if I was charmspeaking myself. That maybe I kept saying I was in love with Jason until I convinced myself I actually was. And with Hera and my mom setting it up… I love-” her voice caught in her throat, and Leo felt like maybe he needed to throw up, “-loved Jason, but not like that.”
“Pipes, I’m really sorry.” Leo squeezed her shoulder. “That sounds like it was super hard for both of you.” Leo felt awful about the fact that he hadn’t even been around to comfort either of them, but it wasn’t like he could fix it now. It was just another item on Leo’s unending list of epic screwups he’d never be able to make up for.
“Jason was… well, he took it exactly like I expected him to. He was surprised, but he didn’t get angry or anything. He mostly seemed okay. Part of me wonders if maybe…” But whatever Piper had been thinking about, she seemed to decide it wasn’t important. “It was hard to get a proper read on him, and as nice as he was about it, things were still super awkward after. I'm terrified he died thinking I didn’t care about him.”
And then she was tearing up again, and Leo thought he would shatter if she cried.
“He knew you cared,” he said as earnestly as he could manage, pulling Piper to his chest again. “You love way too annoyingly for him not to have known. Hell, even I know you love me, and we both know I’m a fucking nightmare when it comes to this stuff.”
“I missed you so much,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his back like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“Oh, I’m about to make you regret saying that,” Leo said, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll bring it up each and every time you say you find something I do annoying.”
“You’re annoying as hell, but you’re still my best friend.” He could feel her tears dripping onto his shoulder, and he knew that would make him start up again too. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”
And well, passing away from dehydration after crying too much would be a really lame way to die the second time, but everything was just too much right now, so if that was how he went, Leo wasn’t sure anyone could blame him.
~~~~
For the next couple of weeks, Leo stayed.
Helping Piper and her dad unpack was the perfect way to keep himself occupied and not have to think. Usually, a mundane task like this probably would have driven Leo nuts. But right now, it was a bit of a godsend—if not literally, at least figuratively. Being productive was always so much easier when it was done in order to avoid something you wanted to do even less. There was a reason his spaces in the foster homes had only ever been tidy when he had exams coming up.
He helped cook, too, and Piper’s dad became increasingly less garbage at it the longer this went on—like muscle memory was finally kicking in after years of disuse.
It was mostly good—listening to Piper reminisce about trips she’d taken with her dad and where she’d gotten the weird variety of items she kept in her room. When they weren’t unpacking, Leo and Piper played video games or watched movies or explored the area. Twice, during the night, they took Festus on a little flight to a nearby fast food place. Finding a parking spot was a bit of a nightmare, unfortunately. Leo would submit a complaint about their inability to accommodate celestial bronze dragons the first chance he got.
The first time they tried hiking—Leo didn’t even like hiking, he’d spent enough time outside for several lifetimes, why did he do this to himself—they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and of course, due to demigod bullshit, neither of them had brought a phone, so Google Maps wasn’t an option. It was probably for the better. The last thing that situation needed on top of them being lost was a monster attack.
They were already jokingly planning out their new life in the woods when, thankfully, a girl their age came to their rescue.
“A human being! Thank the gods. The squirrels weren’t talking to us,” Leo greeted her, which had Piper shout “Please ignore Leo!” loudly from the branches of the tree she’d been climbing.
The girl lifted her head, spotted Piper and promptly burst out laughing.
“What in the world are you doing up there?”
“Trying to get a better vantage point,” Piper sighed, making her way back down the tree. “We’re hopelessly lost.”
“Well, nice to meet you, hopelessly lost. I’m Shel,” the girl said, still grinning. Leo decided immediately that he liked her.
Piper had almost made it back down when she somehow missed a branch and fell the rest of the way. In comedic movie fashion, Shel moved before Leo had the chance to and caught her mid-tumble. “That was a bit of a dramatic way to get my attention, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.”
“Oh yeah, Piper’s got a bit of a thing with falling for people that way,” Leo commented, and Piper gave him her most murderous look while she got back on her feet.
“You guys need help getting back?”
“Please, yes,” Piper said immediately. “It turns out we’re both garbage with maps.”
“Maybe you just need a tour guide next time,” Shel suggested, winking at Piper, whose face turned scarlet. Leo wasn’t even mad about being the third wheel for once. He’d give her so much shit about this later.
And he did. And then Piper properly came out to him—no label or anything, mostly as extremely confused but sure she liked girls, which also made a few additional pieces click into place regarding her breakup with Jason. She ended her anxiety-riddled explanation by thanking Leo for being so normal and annoying about all this.
Which was how Leo realized he’d apparently never told Piper he was bi.
Or maybe he had, and it had gotten lost along with their other memories of Wilderness. Stupid memory-stealing babysitters.
Well, at least they got to hug about it now.
~~~~
It was strange how normal some days felt when nothing would ever truly be normal again. When in every moment Leo and Piper spent together, the gaping hole that had been ripped into their trio was so blatantly obvious.
The benefit and problem of this friendship was that Leo and Piper were both experts at not talking about things they were struggling with.
This wasn’t exactly news. From what little Leo did remember of Wilderness School, they’d spent months not talking about his mom, or about the fact that Piper’s dad kept canceling their weekend plans. They’d both known there were things left unsaid, but as long as they’d been able to cheer each other up, that hadn’t really mattered. It made sense, honestly. Put two people who hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on for ages in a room together and see what happens!
Right now, this meant they were expertly ignoring the box of belongings Piper had picked up from Jason’s school. It had been pushed so far under the bed during that first night that it was no longer visible, and neither of them made any effort to move it out of its new home since. They ignored the topic of Jason, period, until it inevitably hit them in the face again.
It was mostly dumb shit that set them off. Piper automatically reaching for vanilla ice cream at the grocery store because it was Jason’s favorite—seriously, who in their right mind even liked vanilla ice cream?
Sometimes, Leo would make a joke and burst into tears instead of laughing because he knew it would have cracked Jason up. They found old photos unpacking. One time, Piper’s dad suggested they make tacos and they started simultaneously bawling their eyes out.
Leo had spent a long time exactly like this—pretending everything was normal and okay when it wasn’t either of those things until he inevitably broke down. Then he’d started to actually feel sort of okay whenever he was with Jason and Piper. Now, he was sure he would spend the rest of his life pretending.
His appetite was too used to being stuck in survival mode for him to bow to nausea for long, so he went back to eating properly after a few days. He still cried himself to sleep most nights. He kept dreaming about Jason. The memories wrapped themselves around him like a safety blanket that he knew would get ripped away again in the morning. He always woke up feeling empty. Sometimes, he wished he could just go to sleep and never wake up again.
But other than that, it was mostly good.
Then demigod communications went back up, and everything went to hell.
———
Chapter notes:
Fun fact! I originally planned for this chapter (as well as the next few chapters) to just be backstory in my head and for me to maybe do a flashback or two. Unfortunately for me, Piper McLean waltzed into the room and refused to leave.
I do actually think the fic works better this way, but it will take a second to get to the plot! Hopefully you’ll enjoy the whole journey :)
I may not be able to have Leo and Piper go to Jason’s funeral without seriously messing with the plot of Tyrant’s Tomb, but I could at least pick the most evil reason possible for them not to go!
Side note: I sort of forgot that Hedge and Mellie were supposed to be here according to TBM, but by the time I remembered I already had this chapter written out and, as someone who cannot be bothered to figure out how to write them, I decided to just leave it. ToA is vaguely canon to this universe, but only for the most part. Some details are inaccurate, and I think that’s okay.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs super, super appreciated as always!!
List of people that at some point asked to be tagged when I post this: @poppitron360 @ginnyluna @keefessketchbook (feel free to comment if you want to get taken off or be put on the tag list for future chapters!)
79 notes
·
View notes
Note
Since you mentioned it, what did you think of Speak No Evil? I was thinking of watching it myself :0
i really liked it ............ my friend scoffed at me when i told her i was watchin it so take my opinion with a grain of salt tho </3
#snap chats#SHE DIDNT EVEN WATCH IT BUT W/E SPOILER FREE QUICK REVIEW DOWN HERE HIIII <3<3<3<3#ive been made aware my tastes are. Questionable so proceed with caution vlklvjv im so sorry if i convince you to see it and you dont like i#moving on I Have. done nothing but listen to Eternal Flame for the past week its been stuck in my head ever since#BUT FR as i said I Really Liked It. i heard that theres another/original version so i wanna watch that at some point#if i care to remember and find it vjaelkjeakl but as This Movie On Its Own i had a swell time !!!#it does a really good job of teetering that line of#'this is just a quaint little sometimes-awkward get-together' and 'this is so stressful i just might throw up'#it did a good job of keeping me invested and on my toes i guess- it bitters innocuous scenarios really well which i like#like i wasnt sure WHEN whatever scene i was watching would turn sour but i always had that feeling it /would/- that lingering feeling#the horror in this is more psychological than violent- it only gets crazy by the last quarter honestly#which isnt bad! i like psych horror and Christ. the amount of times i was just grimacing in my seat like Suspense Is The Word#like imagine a dinner party where people only say controversial things and you dont want to blow up the situation#so you just try to be really polite about pivoting from the topic. but they keep going. thats basically the horror of this movie at its cor#i do have SOME comments about some bits but i wanna rewatch the movie at some point to be thorough on my comments jglejlakj#yk do a rewatch where im. NOT jokin bout with my brother- THO TBF DESPITE THAT I was still invested#like its premise is so. simple? in concept imo. but 'simple' isnt automatically bad in my eyes and i really liked how it played out#i dont watch movies much tho so maybe its been done different but there is ONE thing tht definitely made me like. HUH#but its nothing super major i dont htink? I MEAN IT WAS KINDA BIG BUT there were signs to it being revealed. still it made me vjLJ like god#i cant explain tho cause SPOILERS but ... Yeah. its not that crazy it just definitely took me by surprise for how quick the reveal was#tldr: if you ever wanted to watch an awkward dinner party where you couldnt do anything about it this is the movie to watch#and i like that. i like that because i hate myself apparently jVLAEKJVAEKLJ#coupled with horror it was also funny at times which i felt did help with that underlying 'when will this be tainted' horror#i really liked that ... when normalcy or the feeling of safety can be taken away in an instant#if you watch it and wanna talk bout it more in depth ill prob have rewatched it by then and id like to give a more. Detailed review#OR AT LEAST ONE NOT SO RAMBLY VELKAVJEALKJ im not good at reviewing things .... i just know when i like or dont like somethin ..#ive only had my bro to talk bout this with and he doesnt really. Give his thoughts or opinions too much like i do#so id be happy to talk bout it and get your perspective !!!! but only if you want Again if you dont like it im so sorry erlakjaekl#god theres so much more i want to say but im just rambling and i wanna be brief for you my friend vlakjlakvlkj#anyway yeah. those are my quick thoughts. i was Very Normal about james mcavoy for most of this movie ty for reading
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
the last time alyssa had gotten involved with anybody.. it was messy. in the absolute worst of ways possible. it was worse because back then she had been in love and then it all fell apart. there wasn't very many people she told this besides for her close friends. it was hard to speak about it ; and obviously... hard to think about. she really wasn't quite sure how she'd be able to get herself to believe that not everyone is that kind of person. one to just leave and disreguard her completely. alyssa wouldn't expect for anyone to drop anything for her, she hoped that they wouldn't. she understood how big another person's dreams are. she had her own and the last thing she would ask was for anyone to put it on the back burner. she knew that if someone had asked for her to do that? there was no way that would've worked. when he interrupted her talking, it made her realize just how much she had actually been rambling on and on. " thank you for saying that. our passions are what make the jobs we love worth it, right? otherwise, we probably wouldn't be doing it. i could maybe even get the fashion house to start making some stylish aprons and chef hats and such. do you even have to wear those? " she questioned. obviously, she really had no knowledge in what it was like to be a chef.
" that does not sound like a fun time. i wonder why they haven't gotten fired yet if they don't know how to do their own jobs. i can't really say i'm surprised. we've got one or two of those at the fashion house. i can't even tell you how many times certain orders have gotten messed up and i needed to fix it. at this point? i prefer to do it so i know it won't be a total mess. " she could see it in his eyes and in the tone of voice just how frustrated he was. the exhaustion from juggling his own ambitions along with the chaos that came with this job. and she understood it, more than he knew. he didn't have to hide that with her. " stress free days are what everyone needs once in a while. otherwise the stress from everything else will just eventually boil up. " it was almost like he knew what to say, the way he pulled her in closer brought out another smile that was almost hard to wipe off her face now, even if she tried. " it has been a while, and i've been wondering if you were ever planning on doing that again. but you're right.. something about that needs to be done. how could i ever be one to say no to that? " she would joke a little; her tone lighthearted. she could almost feel the flutter of butterflies with the way he came closer towards her, she tilted her head to the side as her gaze began to meet his own. " oh a few, you say? i won't lie to you, daniel.. you've got me curious.. " full of anticipation now, actually.
maybe his priorities aren't the best , maybe he should work harder to keep whatever spark is between the two , but he doesn't . once upon a time he would've done everything for a girl , drop his passion & even his name just to be with her & it was maddening , toxic ... something he now steers clear from , keeping himself & his heart guarded by every & any potential distractions that could get him back to that weakened , dependable state of mind . he doesn't want to drown in love again , not like that , not ever again . head tilts to a side as he starts to intently listen to her story about having a bad day , genuinely interested in knowing about her day now that she's here . “ hey ― “ he decides to interrupt her monologue , fingers delicately brushing over her cheek . “ don't do that . don't sell yourself short . you got your own passion , i got mine , it's as simple as that , i get it , “ the male assures with a softness in his tone , in his eyes .
“ you wouldn't believe just how much , “ he tells her , “ but it's nothing compared to the people i work with . i swear , some days i feel like i'm the only one in there that actually knows what he's doing , “ tone's a little bit frustrated , indicating how much it bothers him that he also needs to keep the people under him in check , along with serving good food . “ now that you mention stress free days ... “ the chef starts up again , hands moving down to her waist . “ it's been a hot minute since i've properly taken you out , right ? we should so something about that , “ a cheshire grin appears , pulling her in a bit closer again , glad to see a hint of blush appearing on her features . daniel remains silent , looking at her in a knowing way as he leans in to fill that gap between them , a grin never leaving his lips that soon come dangerously close to her own . “ i can think of a few ways to help , “
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Actively beginning to catch myself going down thought spirals and this has to be a good sign actually
#looking through my sketchbook and realizing ive had it for at least 2 or so years now#and am surprised by how much space is on the pages and how little i seem to have really drawn..#and I'm wondering if I'm putting too much stock and faith in the vehicle; especially now that the path to getting one#is a bit more protracted as i continue shopping around#i just suddenly feel so tired and had intended to draw but felt the motivation drain from me#it *is* past 9pm where i am so it could also just be that time of night as well but#I'm noticing I'm letting the potential vehicle do a lot of guiding here and you know. could be freeing to accept it as it comes#it was definitely a letdown to not get the one i test drove (too expensive) and to not have a car after expecting to have one#and being excited at the prospect of everything becoming easier; and it's definitely a feeling I'm allowed to have#but it's like. idk. i wanna reshape how I'm thinking about this i guess?#and trying to drive away the way i feel burnt out from work every other week but that's for another day. 8 hours is too damn long#shai speaks
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vent under the cut and in the tags
Sometimes it feels like it's never gonna be ok. And I don't know what to do.
#vent#sorry im just#why did my family feel the need to traumatize me?#and how can i possibly move past that betrayal?#like at the end of the day i still love my family. right.#and the worst part is they seem to know exactly what they did and how it impacted me#i couldnt see it until 2 years after i moved out#i just. like i wish i hadnt had to live in so much pain#and now any time i remember anything its wrapped in pain and i hate remembering stuff because of it#which is a problem because my memory is really good and i remember things constantly#idunno. i just want it to stop#i dont even think an apology from my family will do anything at this point because the shit already happened#i already lost my formative years to trauma and now. i just gotta deal with it.#but surprise! nobody ever taught me how to deal with this shit#so hefe i am avoiding it as usual#it just makes it worse but i dont know what esle i could possibly do#anyways sorry rant over#feel free to reply but dont reblog thx ✌️
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm lowkey excited for the next 3D zelda game because i want to see where they go AFTER botw. will they keep some elements of the open world? will they include aspects of environmental storytelling? what will they do? i'm excited to see it
#legend of zelda#i don't think they'll go back to something fully linear like tp or sksw honestly#i was pleasantly surprised to see some design elements from botw return in eow#things like the lynel design and the map design. i kinda wasn't expecting it#although. botw was a sort of soft reboot to zelda too#i think going back to a linear game would be a step in the wrong direction#yes oot was revolutionary for its time but that was in 1998. oot was among the first 3D games where you had free range of motion#we've come SO much further than that. and a lot of the games people consider to be the best from the last decade or so#are the ones with the full open world. like botw#(which in itself inspired a lottttt of these games)#like here's my controversial opinion but the botw lore is some of my favourite in the franchise#not entirely for what it is but for how it's conveyed#you're supposed to see things in the overworld and make connections or interpret it yourself#so like. there's this village in between akkala and eldin that's been burnt down. and there's a red wizzrobe dancing around there too#there are lines of swords in the ground in fort hateno that i think are meant to represent graves#(there are a lot of graves/implied graves in botw)#zelda has all these little drawings and notes over her study. that's all her research and it's somehow mostly untouched#anyways! i'll shut up now aksjskdjskdj#i should play it again soon but i feel unsatisfied if i'm not at least a little freaked out playing a video game now akdjskdjdn#resident evil has RUINED ME. totk depths were helping but idk. botw isn't really all that scary#(guardians don't count once you know how to kill them. neither do lynels)#(yes i will fight gold lynels for fun)
1 note
·
View note
Text
It’s a pleasure and a fresh air, hearing unbiased opinions.
Could’ve been a better result if they double stack them, but we can be smart after the whole thing went down, I’m not sure if I could make smart decisions under the same amount of pressure 😭
We’re kinda hard on them but true. The big jump they’ve down last year and this ever since Miami, they were not prepared for being title contenders so early and they stuck in the midfield kind of thinking. I agree, but also rb is in the title fight for a long time, they know how to make quick and smart decisions even tho they made so many mistakes this year too, when they were under pressure. I believe McLaren can improve for next year and looking back to this year as a learning experience.
Ferrari took a step forward with the strategy calls but also they needed like 2 years to make it happen..
I assume they just weren’t prepared for it to happen and it caught them by surprise they need to settle in the job more comfortably. Winning the wcc will help with the confidence and next year they can come back and win it again with smart decisions and managing their drivers better, and not because their rivals lacked too in some areas. Sadly yes! They need to learn how to make decisions with their drivers being involved, putting less pressure on them to make the calls while also driving around… but I also understand the team views on listening all side and decide accordingly.
Yeah, and everyone is attacking the team for making questionable decisions but no one really think outside the box and maybe it’s what the drivers want too. Neither wants to win a race because of team orders, hence why the Baku win for Oscar felt so much better than Hungary. He worked for it really hard. Damn, well said. No matter how much hate and love he gets, his biggest and worst enemy will always remain himself 🥲
Some of the stuff Andrea says just fuels the haters more and they really should focus on their statements more carefully. It’s getting comical.
I agree with some of the commentators saying that drivers should know the rules but also so much going on in their heads and overall, the team should remind them what to do, especially when seeing stroll in the gravel should already raised the issue and idea of an aborted start.
Charles wanted to be smart but the others already made the mistake so he had to follow 😅
Can’t wait for more improvement in the papaya department! Tbh if McLaren doesn’t mess up I don’t see any of them leaving the team, certainly not Lando. Oscar is a harder case, he’s not emotionally attached to the team yet (at least not as much as Lando).
Yeah, I expected it to be the plan, pulling a bigger gap and switching them, not risking anyone to overtake them. I assumed they talked about more than one plan before the race, but I could be wrong.
I didn’t say Oscar isn’t a great defender, because he showed he is, in Monaco and in Baku, Lando just has more experience and can hold on a little longer. Once again McLaren put them in a questionable situation 😅
Oh clearly, and it’s making me nervous and fuming on Lando’s behalf. If he dnfs in one of the upcoming races, Max surely gets the title. And I noticed how he races fair and more gently with other drivers but when Lando is near, madmax is coming back.
It’s easy to say that when you have overtake your teammate, and two of the drivers who is signed with the sister teqm, and all the others have slower cars. I think Oscar didn’t expect max to divebomb like that, and it caught him by surprise but also he didn’t seem to be fast enough to hold him up for longer than turn 3, where max is majestic on the outside line. So in a normal race, he could’ve defend against him fairly, but in the wet race McLaren pace was nowhere.
Obviously luck was on his side that day with the free pitstop and only Ocon being ahead of him. Who was fast at some point but nowhere near the rb’s speed.
Happy that they actually had a nice Saturday with the sprint and even better Friday with the sprint quali 🥰
That’s actually a wonderful idea, do you have any name suggestions to use as a tag? Same to you! Enjoying the convo a lot! And I assume it’ll happen more if you post your opinions after races.
My take on a certain part of the McLaren fandom:
Every tag I open I see parasocial behavior.
Let's just touch grass and stop it. It prevents people from enjoying the sport without cringing (and, moreover, be happy for a team's success).
Why do I have to mute stupid tags (anti...) and block people in order to appreciate F1 in peace? Why do people do not understand that this is an highly mechanical/engineering sport and not only a driving sport? Why do you not understand that drivers are humans too?
But mostly, why does it seem so difficult to root for an entire TEAM?
Like, can't we JUST collectively appreciate everything that happened today? Just for once.
Like:
1. Oscar's sprint pole was a significant milestone for him and his career. (And i would love to see him win the sprint). Although he's still a rookie, he's developing into a really good driver (just needs one or two more years to settle down). Also, he has been maturing a lot since the start of the season and you can see that in the way he speaks about the whole "papaya rules" situation (still hate it, no team orders please... Just tell him to not crash both cars.) now compared to before the summer break. (please Oscar, do not let Mark Webber's delusions get into your brain. Thanks.) Also, nice helmet. Love it.
2. Lando finally looks serene and at ease without succumbing to anxiety for other's expectations. (He also seems to not be willing to give a f*ck about WDC, good for him). I'm also really happy that he's back to eating/drinking before races and can finally enjoy driving again. (Noticed him eating an energy bar before the race in Mexico)
I also noticed that he, just like Oscar, matured A LOT this year, especially after the summer break. (Speaking of the elephant in the room: Despite the team's apparent indifference, I still think that WDC can be achieved if he chooses to. Even if they're not interested in helping him due to different priorities or contract clauses)
And no, he is definitely a First Driver. If you think otherwise you are just living in a delusion, sorry. Telemetry, just like Math, is not an opinion.
Like, look at the last qualy time he did (and aborted) before pitting.
(the green lap records are the last sectors performances set by the driver. Look at them. Just look.)
And yes, if he gets the points he deserves a WDC, if he wants to. He IS a really good driver.
Mentality is a concept as old (and toxic) as Helmut Marko. Please, don't be like him.
3. We are finally seeing what the upgrades were for... Especially after whatever Austin was. (And yes guys, BOTH of the drivers have had the upgrades since Austin. Oscar just got 6 upgrades out of 7 at that time... Not none. Sorry to burst your bubble.)
And no, the upgrades DIDN'T actually upgraded the car's overall performances in Austin, you can clearly see that from the data. They purposely sacrificed it for the next races. See this:
https://f1i.com/news/521800-mclaren-explains-decision-to-delay-updated-floor-in-austin.html
Also they took risks with the floor too in Mexico. And no, they didn't give it to Norris because they hate Piastri. They give it to him mainly because he is more experienced and can provide useful data during practice while Oscar still needs to improve this skill.
4. Also, the team has done a great job in finding a way to change the banned rear wing without compromising performance and exceeding the spending cap. Love it. (also they made a new beam wing configuration specifically for Interlagos and it, apparently, works really well!)
I'm still not convinced that we currently have the best car on the grid (Ferrari looks really solid anywhere) but it's already better than the rocky start we got in US.
Not gonna lie, the moment they sprayed the WHOLE side of the car with the flow-vis in Austin i was like "goddammit, no improvements"... So I'm relieved that it wasn't the case (better sacrifice a race than discard the upgrades package entirely like Ferrari did in Silverstone).
WCC wise, I just hope that today they don't do something silly risking two MCL38 in a multi21. (And that we get some good strategies... Hopefully... Ok, I think I need to start pray some ancient god for that.)
And what If they multi21? Well, it would be really entertaining, but I don't think Lando wants to risk points/DNF for that. It's just not his style. (Mentality again? Go to bed grandpa... And take your medicines)
Let's be healthy fans, guys. Not parasocial delulus. We can rant about McLaren shenanigans TOGETHER.
Like, YES, i'm still convinced that the strategy team/management team is doing a real poor job this year. Both in managing the races and managing the drivers. (Including Bortoleto's contract clauses...)
And last (and least?), I loved the Google chromed livery aesthetically... HATED it aerodynamically. You won't be missed. Sorry Google, I had to say it.
Thank you for reading my rant. Love y'all (even if you don't agree with me)!
36 notes
·
View notes