#it’s actually named after the cat of the guy who discovered it but REGARDLESS i’m obsessed now

[raisins-n-space]

anyway did you know there’s a mr spock asteroid because it’s very special to me yeah <3

[cigvrettedvet]

rue & carys.

          Carys had spent the entirety of her twenties around Europe with just a backpack and a visa in vain attempts to discover who she was from the small Welsh town where her surname seemed to be tacked on every shoppe there. She spent most of her days working in university libraries and cafés to sustain her nomadic style, her parents refusing to feat the bill for her just “running about”, instead of getting a nine-to-five job and settling down to start a family of her own. The other times, she sat and read in the public garden that was around the corner from her flat, and crashed parties with the friends she made from her jobs. She could not imagine what her life had been if she had not made it out of Wales, and here she was, miles away from the country and wondering why Rue had never caught the next red-eye to someplace warm for the winter. Or even gone to Grand Central and got a ticket for the Metro North. There was not much out there, namely a ramble of commuters that resided in suburbia with their respective families, but at least it was still out of the city. “Wait, you’ve never been away from here?” She queried, arching an eyebrow, she knew there were some that had never left the city, and perhaps they never felt the need to because there was a multitude of cultures right outside their door. Carys knew Rue was only teasing, but she could not help but feel as if it was true from what she heard about Rue’s brother, and their willingness to assist him when he was in trouble. “Hey, he’s young now, and it’s sort of par for the course, to bail your younger siblings out of trouble. He’s really lucky to have a sibling like you though Rue.” It was hard out there, and if you had even one person on your side, regardless if they were family or found family, then that meant something. 

“Oh you do, do you? Yeah, in this city, two single people meeting at a mutual person’s party, mmm, yes just like kismet huh?” Carys joked, taking one more sip of her drink before her lips parted again to say something when she was interrupted by Cat wrapping an arm over her shoulder, the older woman almost jumping in the air. “I am actually glad you met, because I seated you right next to each other. And it’s almost dinner time, so I hope you guys are hungry.” Her eyes moved over to the table where there were name place cards in front of the dishes, Carys containing the smile that was pressed to her lips as she glanced back to Rue. 

        rue shook their head, almost amused by carys’ surprise. they had never bothered to go traveling anywhere, despite wanting. there was money for one thing and then for another, where could they go? rue didn’t want to leave their brother behind, even if it was for a week on vacation. “he doesn’t seem to think that since i’m always trying to rain on his parade. but thanks, i... i, uh, really needed to hear that.” as if rue couldn’t grow to like carys even more. a part of them is wishing that carys wouldn’t be so sweet so it’d make this easier. but the more they talk, the harder it is for rue to keep their cool. chuckling lightly at the redhead’s joke, rue’s about to respond when cat came up to them and rue’s eyes widened in surprise. since when had she been here? how much had she seen and heard? was she going to lay into rue the moment they were alone? it seemed as though cat hadn’t heard much since she was happy they met. so happy that she had sat the both of them together. oh, how rue wanted to give her best friend a big kiss on the forehead for that. “after you,” rue motioned for carys and cat to walk ahead of them, barely managing to contain their own smiles.

         after dinner which had been . . . eventful, rue decided that she needed a break from it all. so that’s why they’d end up outside for a smoke break, eager to try and get some fresh air. rue’s half hoping that carys would end up outside too. but rue supposed they could understand if carys was tired of them. they had talked all throughout dinner, not separating for even a second. well, until now anyway. blowing out a large puff of smoke, rue turned around at the sound of noise. thinking it was cat or maybe someone else, they’re in for a pleasant surprise when they see that it’s only carys. thank fuck. “sorry to bail out like that. i just needed a minute. don’t tell cat, by the way. i told her i’d quit ages ago and well . . . that’s all gone to shit,” rue replied, pressing a finger to their lips in the hope that carys could keep their secret. “do you smoke? i’d feel terrible if i didn’t offer at least,” rue spoke, opting to be polite. but also looking for a way to try and make the redhead stay so they could talk some more.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

[shinonometrash]

Jasper Lane’s Main Story: English vs Japanese version, full summary, comparisons & thoughts. Part 1 of 3. (TW: rape, sexual assault, drugging)

So! Jasper’s route has finally been released in English as of August 31st, 2021. It seems that Voltage is following the same release order for consorts and events as how items were released in the Japanese version. I spent wayyy too much money to binge the entire route in a day...and get all the premium content...(honestly the hardest part about binging a route isn’t the love passes, it’s getting all the spirit points. Ugh.) I took note of a lot of different things in this and wanted to make a post going over all this information. Sorry this post took me so long to make, I had to go back and reread a lot of Jasper’s story in Japanese to refresh my memory as well as make sure I didn’t miss any big details since I had read it first back in May, and my Japanese has improved a lot (I think) since then. It was unfortunate and I didn’t really want to, lol. But! Now it’s his birthday (9/11)! I get to post this on his birthday! Happy birthday, asshole! This post is why you and your route suck! I’m probably only going to be able to post this first part today though, because honestly this post is taking much more time than I expected.

The biggest thing is going to be that 

Jasper’s English (Court of Darkness) route does NOT contain any major triggering content. You’ll probably still want to punch him, though.

So, if you’re looking to find out about that, there you go. Anyways.

I’ve broken this into four posts, three that contain summaries of each chapter, regardless of changes, and one that only contains the changes. 

(As of the date of posting, 9/11/2021, I have not completed all the posts yet. Please check back later and I will add the links to the rest of  them as they are posted.)

This post is part one including the summaries. Part two in currently progress. Part three in currently progress. Post with ONLY comparisons and thoughts currently in progress. 

Since I had contacted Voltage about the triggering content in Jasper’s route (and made a very lengthy Tumblr post about it) and they told me they prefer to remove potentially triggering content from stories in the localization process, rather than simply adding trigger warnings, I was more or less expecting this. Although...I didn’t really expect it to be to this extent, nor did I realize how I was actually going to feel about it...! Of course, the CoD did a fabulous job with the content they were given and what they were told to do, as always, and I completely understand why they changed what they did. Like. Seriously. They did the best they could do with the absolute mess of a route they were given. But, like, the route was an absolute mess to begin with. So there’s only so much that can be done to fix it...💀 Anyways, please know that any of my complaining is not directed at the CoD team because they’re wonderful!! Support them by buying in game content if you’re able to!! They recently released a special VIP pack that’s honestly an AMAZING deal. This is just a criticism of the route itself and my thoughts on it, not on the CoD team.

Now, onto the main point of the post...the English and Japanese versions of this route are very different. 

Warning: This post contains major spoilers about Jasper’s main story as well as potentially triggering content including but not limited to rape, sexual assault, and drugging.

In addition, I am not including any CGs in this post as I’m not trying to break Voltage’s policy.

Please click under the read more to continue.

Okay, so first off this is probably going to sound incredibly self centered of me, but I sort of get the feeling that my post about his Japanese route had some sort of influence on the changes in his route...? Not sure how big of tabs Voltage keeps on Tumblr...but it seems like nearly all of the main points I was specifically really mad about got changed--and I’m sure they must have definitely seen my post...? Also, this too probably sounds silly, but I was kinda happy reading some of the dialogue that was nearly the same as the way I had translated it. Part of me was still afraid that I had no idea what I was talking about and just looked stupid writing a long post with misinterpretations of lines💀

Pre-notes: 1. For those who named their cat something else, Robin = MC’s cat.  2. In the direct quotes, anytime you see “---” it’s just me cutting out a part in the dialogue that I deem unnecessary for comparison purposes. 3. I bolded whether there’s differences in the chapters or not in each chapter summary, in case you only want to read the summaries for the chapters with the differences. It’s pretty much going to be the same as reading my other post, then, but I explain more of the chapter here, usually.

Chapter 1-3

Literally so dull. Nothing really of note. Pretty much the same between the English and Japanese. Jasper asks about her hands and she’s like “omg he’s so nice he was worried about my hands!!”, she meets Sherry and they become friends, the headmaster tells her she has to learn magic if she wants a chance at going back home. They go to the runes and learn about the history of Saligia. Guy grabs her again, she escapes.

Chapter 4

It starts to get a little bit more interesting here. Overall, nothing seems too different between the two stories yet. Jasper invites her to the rooftop for a tea party. Jasper is desperately trying to get MC to interact (in a positive manner) with Guy, she asks Jasper to have tea with her instead. Sherry and Rio mention a ball. Toa and Guy get into a glaring match. Toa leaves. You know, the usual. Jasper whispers something in Guy’s ear and they leave, and everybody follows them because...you know. They discover that Guy’s room has been trashed. Toa walks in and asks what’s going on, and then falls silent when he sees Guy’s room. Guy is like “Toa, you left before me, did you not?” and Toa is like “What are you trying to imply?” then they glare at each other until Lynt is like “Are you trying to say that Toa is the culprit? He would never.” Fenn agrees. Roy says they should investigate, and Toa says he will also investigate, since he is the dorm prefect after all. Afterwards, Jasper asks Guy if he thinks Toa did it, Guy says “No, Qelsum isn’t that stupid.” Guy says they need information. He sends Jasper out to investigate, tells Jasper to be sure not to be seen. Fenn, Violet, and MC go out for food or something, and MC runs into Sirius, literally. Fenn is like “what are you doing?” and MC says she ran into somebody but turns around and there’s nobody there. I guess it’s trying to imply that Jasper is stealthy and can hide away into the night or something?? But then that’s it.

Chapter 5-6

No overall noticeable changes. It’s time for the ball! Sherry lends MC a dress and they head to the ball. She sees Jasper in the hallway closely inspecting wine, without Guy. She calls his name and he startles. He tells her he’s selecting a wine for Guy because Guy is very selective and will not consume anything that Jasper has not prepared. Jasper essentially says that Guy is his reason for living. Then they go into the dance hall. And Guy is all like “why did you come in together?” then they say they ran into each other by chance. Guy goes to take a sip of the wine, looks  startled, and then ends up spitting it out into a handkerchief. He claims he choked on the wine. She finds Jasper in the hallway again, looking at the wine, and calls out. Again, he startles. She wonders why. She tries to ask, but then he dodges the question by telling MC that the dress looks good on her. He invites her to dance and says he’ll teach her. They head back to the ballroom, she asks him some various questions and they all basically end with him saying that he serves Guy or whatever, and she’s thinking all like “work, again...?”. Jasper then tries to make her dance with Guy instead of himself, and when she says she’s going to leave he grabs her arm. There’s a few choices you can make, but one of them is “Please let go of me.” And then! And then! This man literally looks at her and asks “Why?” Yikes!! And she asks why he’s asking why, and he says he doesn’t want her to go, so she agrees to stay a little longer. (Mistake #1) Then he shoves her off onto Guy again. After dancing with Guy she goes out to the balcony and runs into Aquia, and Aquia pricks his finger and it starts bleeding. She tries to look at it and it somehow brushes her lips and at that moment Guy and Jasper come out and ask what’s going on. Aquia apologizes (he did nothing wrong!! >:(  ) They then discover that Aquia’s wound has magically healed somehow. Then here’s the scene with  Guy: “That girl, I want to know everything about her.” Jasper: “Oh my, have you fallen in love?” Guy: “Something like that” Jasper: “Congratulations! We must celebrate this wonderful occasion!” Guy: “That’s enough now. Investigate that woman’s power.”

Chapter 7

No major changes between versions. But...Ughhhhhhhh. We’re gonna meet Sirius in this chapter. But first some humor. They go to the S rank lounge, I believe after the ball. Jasper offers to make coffee. Literally ALL the valets suddenly RUSH to Jasper’s side to ask him to teach them how to brew coffee. So there sitting in the S rank lounge with Jasper brewing coffee while all the other valets are like 👀👀👀👀 lmaoooo. Aight and so the humorous part ends there, sorry! That’s it! Now we must move on.  Fenn says he wants to go out drinking and asks Jasper if he’d like to join, Jasper declines saying he has other matters to attend to. We learn that Hawke, Jasper, and Lance are all drinking buddies. MC is all like “oh thank god, that means he does get time off!” -_- So then Toa laughs and comments how close Jasper and MC are, and is like “wow imagine using your valet for something like that” and then tells her that she’ll be a tool for Avari if she sticks with them, and that it’s not too late to switch to Qelsum’s side instead. (She does not switch. Mistake #2. Arguably her biggest mistake in this entire route, if you ask me.) Guy interjects and tells Toa that MC is his, and Toa is like “lmaooo then why does she seem closer with your valet than you?” and then they glare at each other. MC gets annoyed and leaves. Jasper asks where she’s going. She says she’s going back to her room to see Robin. For some reason, Jasper seems disappointed about this? Afterwards, she goes to her room for a bit but then decides to go explore the town with Robin. Uh oh! Robin goes missing.

She starts looking for Robin and runs into this sketch looking dude. He asks her where’s she’s going, she says she’s looking for her cat. He’s like “oh that flying thing?” and she’s like “Yeah!” and then is like “could you just tell me which way he was headed? I can get there myself.” but the guy insists that she should follow him instead, because the streets are dangerous and she might run into dangerous men. The man is then like “I’m Sirius.” (which, when I first read the Japanese, I thought he was saying “I’m serious” lmaoo) and then he frickin grabs her hand and drags her off!!! Yikes! 

Chapter 8, 1st Interlude, and Chapter 9 

Okay so we’ve got the most significant changes in these chapters. Like. A LOT. This is what the majority of my previous post focused on: the drugging, sexual assault, and morning after.  They basically did their best to make this consensual. It went very similar to what I had predicted, although played up a bit more cringe-y than I had expected...or maybe I just hadn’t thought about how cringe-y it would be. There’s literally so many changes that it’d be a bit of a pain to summarize all of them between the versions, I’m just going to put the actual dialogue/stuff from the stories for a lot of this so you can see the differences more directly. (The Japanese will be roughly translated by me, of course.)

Chapter 8

So Sirius starts walking and walking and walking and she asks where they’re going but he keeps insisting it’ll only be just a little longer or that it’s a shortcut and stuff. Ughhhhh...Then she’s like. This man clearly has no idea what he’s doing, I’m going to run away after all. But then he suddenly tells her they’re going to take a “break”. He drags her into the bar before she can protest or try to run. She tries to say no to a drink, but then he asks if she does drink and she’s like “well I do, but...” and you start seeing the differences here. In English she makes a comment of “Ugh, if only he wasn’t so charming.” Sirius further insists only one drink, even though MC tries to say she needs to go find Robin. He then just straight up orders drinks for them, despite her protesting. She then agrees, and then mentally apologizes to Robin. (Mistake #3) And we start seeing the biggest differences about right here...

For this chapter, let’s play a guessing game on which one is the Japanese version and which one is the English version, shall we? :)

Away from the table, Sirius plants a palm on the counter. Two of the usual are set out before him, bubbles frothing over the top. Sirius glances back and finds MC staring at the patterns in the wood grain. Sirius: Much obliged. Tavern Keeper: Mm-hmm. Scooping up the fizzing, popping tumblers, he tosses a wink at the tavern keeper. Then, he strolls back to spend time with his new friend. - Away from the table, Sirius plants a palm on the counter. Immediately two of the usual shot glasses are set out in front of him. Just to make sure, he looks back at MC, who is staring at the table. Sirius: Ah, thanks. Tavern Keeper: Mhm. Sirius skillfully drops the tablet he had hidden between his fingers into the shot glass of the opposite hand. Then, feigning a nonchalant look, he returns back to the table.

Did you guess which one was which in this part? :) And yes, my friends. In the fucking CANON MAIN ROUTE, it deadass has a line saying that our love interest puts a drug in our drinks. And yet...the Japanese fans still love him! Ugh. Also, that “skillfully” bit really concerns me. That kinda implies that he’s done it multiple times before, does it not??? Honestly I’m not really sure why it says it was a shot glass in the Japanese, though. I thought they were drinking like cocktails, not taking a shot. Maybe that’s why they changed that bit...? Now the stories are the same again for a tiny bit. Some time has passed that they’ve been in the bar/tavern and MC chugs her drink and slams it down on the table. She seems drunk. She’s rambling about Guy and Jasper. Like “I’m not an object!!” “and he’s like “Yes, yes, you aren’t an object.” then like “Who goes around saying stuff like “you are mine” and “give me your power”?? Like seriously! Who says that sort of stuff! It’s so messed up!” and he just listens along, amused. He then says that it’s good to drink sometimes, and she agrees, and then he asks what she wants to do. She notes how she’s only had one drink, yet her head feels a bit fuzzy already, and how it made her very talkative. She says she wants to go home. She reveals that her family died, and that she has a hair clip in her hair from her mom that’s very important to her. She mentions how there are still good people in this world, though.  Sirius tries to order her another drink, and here’s where stuff deviates again.

Sirius: Another of the same, if you please. MC: What, no! I’m fine MC: So hey, you’ve been fantastic company but I really need to go find Robin. (Man I got way too into that conversation.) (Robin must be out there looking for me.) MC: Thanks for the drink, though. You’re a really good listener. And also...really, really pretty. MC: It’s been great meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime? MC: Like...when I’m not looking for my cat. That’d be...nice.” (I have no filter. No filter whatsoever.) MC: Right, so...Bye... He stands up right as I do. The rickety old table wobbles between us and I pitch into his arms. Sirius: Steady on. Sirius: I might almost think you’ve fallen for me. (Fallen for him? But I’ve only just met the man.) Sirius holds me steady as I smile up at him, feeling silly but bold. He’s even more handsome up close. MC: Like I said, very attractive but...gotta go. Sirius: Hold fast. MC: Haha. Did you just pick me up?! Sirius hefts me into his arms like I weigh nothing, and for a moment I feel like I’m being carried off into the sunset. An electrifying thrill runs through me as I sway against him, adn then I realize we’re moving. MC: Where are we going? Sirius: ... MC: The look he gives me then makes my eyebrows shoot up. I nod and let him carry on. (English version, Mistake #4) When I next open my eyes, I’m being placed down on something fluffy. (I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I should leave well enough alone but there’s something about him...) I peer at the unfamiliar ceiling overhead while Sirius stares down in my eyes. Sirius: No need to hurry. Sirius: The night’s just begun, after all. (Wait a second, aren’t you...?) The seductive smile on his face comes closer. For a split second he reminds me of someone, but it must be my imagination. - Sirius: Bartender, another of the same. MC: Ah, no, I’m good! MC: I really need to go find Robin. (Yikes, I got totally absorbed in that conversation.) (Surely Robin is looking for me, too) MC: Thanks...for talking with me...and listening... MC: Thanks to that I’ll be sure to...remember this... MC: From now on, I’m going...to study...more seriously...for sure.... (Wha...I’m so dizzy...) MC: Sorry...I’m...leaving now... Sirius: Whoa, hold on. MC: Ah... Unsteady on my feet, Sirius picks me up and holds me in his arms. I feel swaying and I open my eyes slightly. I’m being carried somewhere. MC: Where...are we going...? Sirius: ... Strangely, it feels like the ceiling has gotten awfully high... The next thing I’m aware of when I open my eyes is being placed down on something fluffy. (Where am I...?) I gaze at the ceiling above me and Sirius looks into my eyes. Sirius: Let’s take it slowly. Sirius: The night has just begun, no? (Huh...?) Laughing mysteriously, the man’s face comes closer. For a second, I think he looks similar to someone. But it’s just my imagination, right...?

I’m sure you can guess which one is which. One is extremely alarming, the other is cringe. It’s clear they did the most they could to try and make it consensual between them, and ended up doing exactly what I thought with having her make several comments about how attractive he is and then add some playful flirting between them. 😖 Alright! Ready for the next part? 

1st Interlude

I just read the normal first interlude in Japanese before typing out this post and...god, I thought the premium interlude was bad. So, one more time, trigger warning for sexual assault. Damn I really don’t want to write this part, I’m so tired from writing the rest TT (I saved this for last, unfortunately.) I’m not translating all of these so I’ll do a mix of translating exact lines and summarization. In all the stories, first she calls out Jasper’s name at first, confused, and then Sirius looks shocked. And she’s like, how weird, why would I call him that...he’s clearly Sirius...and then they all start to deviate. ><

Normal Interlude

Japanese version (this is the worst one): MC: I’m sorry...I must’ve gotten drunk, sorry for the trouble... Sirius: So you’re apologizing in this situation. (This...situation...?) He kisses her. (Wha...I’m being...kissed...) I’m aware of it, but my body feels so heavy, I can’t resist it. With my arms pinned to the bed, I’m forced to accept the kiss. He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. -- Sirius: Is it only your lips, or...? His finger runs along my knee, tickling it. With his other hand, he skillfully slips his hand into my shirt. Sirius: No need to be alarmed. Sirius: I simply wish to confirm. (Confirm...?) Sirius: So soft and smooth, you feel nice to touch. Sirius: But, I don’t feel anything from just touching you... Sirius: Is it different depending on where I touch? The sensation of him stroking my skin falsely spreads through my whole body while his fingertips make their way down to my lower limbs. I move my shoulders to try to tell him “I don’t want you to touch me!”, but it doesn’t matter as his fingertips continue to try to uncover something. MC: St...stop it... Yelling out makes him stop--at least, that’s what I had thought. However,  the thing that stops him isn’t my voice. He removes his hand that was feeling around in my shirt and then starts to think about something. (Is he...searching for something...?) Sirius: ...so it can’t be transferred through the skin, hm. (W-what...?) It’s finally over--is what I thought, at least. This time, he drops kisses on my ears and collarbone. When he puts his hands on my thighs again, I want to run away immediately. (Why...? Why is this happening...?) MC: Is this...is this a dream...? Sirius: Yes. It’s a dream. So, goodnight. Sirius: You’re about to reach the limit, aren’t you? (Limit? What is he talking about?) Even if I wanted to think about it, my head is too fuzzy and I can’t think of anything. I don’t like it, but...what is it I don’t like? Surely it was something important, but I can’t remember. Before I could say “I’m sorry, I’m really sleepy” my consciousness blacks out. She passes out and Sirius says something about how interesting it is, and that he must report his findings to Guy.

English version: MC: Sorry, I can’t believe I called you by the wrong name. Sirius: Is this the time for apologies? (I guess not...?) He kisses her. (We’re kissing. I’m kissing Sirius...) He’s certainly attractive enough. I’m not attached to anyone here, and yet...Why is it that I keep thinking of Jasper? He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. -- Sirius: Is it only your lips, or...? His fingers walk along my knee, tickling me. I shiver and grin as he gives me a considering look, then slips his hand inside my shirt. -- Sirius: I only wish to see what you’re capable of. (Strangest bedroom talk ever.) Sirius: You’re exquisite. Soft, smooth, perfect to the touch... Sirius: But I seek other responses. Sirius: Tell me, is this where you want to be touched? He peers down at me expectantly, hands petting along my skin as if to encourage me to speak. I squeeze my thighs together, hoping he’ll continue without the need for words. He raises an eyebrow. MC: Sirius, I need... At first I think the sound of my voice has given him pause. Then I realize something else has happened. He tidies my open shirt a little and frowns thoughtfully. (What is he doing? What is it he’s looking for?) Sirius: Hm, no transfer from the skin. (Uh, what?) My mouth falls open. Has the moment been ruined somehow? If so, what’d I do? But then he plants tiny kisses over my ears, neck, and cheeks. His hands sweep over me once more, but far more soothingly. Still, I can’t get the image of Jasper out of my mind. (I can’t be doing this. It’s not fair to be thinking of one man when I’m with another. I need to sort my head out.) MC: Sirius, I can’t do this. I’m...I think I’m developing feelings for someone else, so it wouldn’t be fair to you to do this... Sirius: Well, well. There’s an unexpected turn. ...All right. We’ll think of this as nothing more than a passing dream. Sirius: This never happened then. Good night, MC. (Good night? But we’ve only just...) Suddenly I feel very drowsy. A second ago I wanted nothing more than a crazy, one-night romp with a man who has crystalline red eyes. Now I can’t think of anything but how comfortable this bed is. She passes out and Sirius says something about how interesting it is, and that he must report his findings to Guy. --

Yikes!!!!! I was so shocked when I read the normal interlude!! Especially the Japanese version!! Now for the other one...

Premium Interlude

Japanese version:

MC: I’m sorry...I must’ve gotten drunk, sorry for the trouble... Sirius: So you’re apologizing in this situation. (This...situation...?) His voice is close.  But besides that, I don’t understand the situation very well. Sirius: Is it hard to open your eyes? MC: Yes... Sirius: I’ll make you feel better right now. (Feel better...?) She sees him put in eyedrops. She tries to ask but her voice is really quiet and her throat is dry. MC: Excuse me, could...could I have some water?”  Sirius: I’ll give you some right now I felt something cold touch my lips and water poured down my throat. MC: ...nng (No...it’s something else. I’m...being kissed...) I understand that, but, but I feel too drowsy to be able to resist.  With my arms pinned to the bed, I’m forced to accept the kiss. He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. (What...this kiss...) It’s a kiss that makes me feel as if I’ll be swallowed by the torrent of pleasure. (I’ve never experienced something like this...) Sirius: Ha...ahh... MC: ...mm, Sirius... His lips pull away with a wet sound and I sigh. Sirius: It’s as I thought... MC: Stop...it...already... Sirius: Shhh... Sirius: Be quiet. I’m going to make you feel better. He wipes his finger along my wet lips and pushes it inside my mouth. My shoulders jump and I shiver and inhale sharply, feeling like I’m being bitten on the neck by Sirius. MC: Mnn... Sirius: Suck... He moves his finger around my mouth and I move my tongue as I’m told. Sirius: That’s it good girl... Sirius: ...so it can’t be transferred through the skin, hm. (What...is he talking about...?) Sirius: How about...here? He removes his finger from my mouth and strokes my knee. MC asks if it’s a dream, and the rest of the interlude ends the same way as the normal Japanese interlude ends.

English version:

MC: Sorry, I can’t believe I called you by the wrong name. Sirius: Is this the time for apologies? (I guess not...?) I can almost feel his voice vibrate against my skin. Shivering at the sensation, I let my head fall against the pillows. Sirius: Would you rather keep your eyes closed at the moment? MC: Mm. yeah. I like the sound of your voice. It...reminds me of someone... Sirius: Then keep them closed. Sirius tells her to hold on a minute and puts in eyedrops. MC says her throat is dry and asks for some water. He gives her water, but she realizes that it’s not a cup but rather him giving her water from his lips. -- They kiss. (Who taught him to kiss like this?) It’s like some dam has burst within me and a tide of pleasure is threatening to sweet me away. (I’ve never experienced anything like this. Is this magic, too, or just him?) Sirius: Mm..Yes... MC: Ah...Sirius... A wanton moan escapes me as he gives me space to breathe. The thing is, in my mind’s eye I keep seeing someone else. Sirius: Quite as I suspected. MC: That was incredible. What was-- Sirius: Shh. Hush now. I’ll fufill that yearning of yours. He rubs his thumb against my dampened bottom lip then slips it inside my mouth. My shoulders jump as he moves his lips and teeth over my neck. Sirius: Suck. I obediently swirl my tongue over his thumb, taking it in further. Sirius: Good girl. -- Then she says she can’t do it because of having feelings for someone else, just like in the normal English and the rest of the interlude continues the exact same way.

I can’t believe Voltage was really like “hey, pay us and we’ll make the content less rape-y for you! :)” Big yikes lol. I’d only read the premium at the time of my original post, and I thought that was bad enough to write a post about it. That normal interlude though? YIKES. Like...gahhh I know I already said this same thing like three times earlier but I’m just so grossed out!!

Also, a quick note. The CG for this has Sirius laying on top of her while she has her eyes closed. This is because she’s UNCONSCIOUS in the Japanese version. I was wondering how they were gonna get around it, but like not long before it came out I was like “oh they can just have him comment telling her to close her eyes or something” and I guess that’s more or less what they did...?

Chapter 9

Okay so I realize I did make a slight translation error in my original post about the ninth chapter. She does indeed say “I don’t have a headache” rather than what I had thought it said which was “My head hurts, but it can’t be a hangover.”  which is what they went with in the English. “My head doesn’t hurt, though, which suggests I don’t have a hangover.” The rest seems about right, though. Anyways, so this chapter starts the morning after the events of the first interlude with MC waking up in the strange bedroom. While not technically as big of change as in Chapter 8 and the first interlude, this is also one of the most changed chapters between versions. 

The Japanese version:

(Where am I?) I open my eyes and am unable to move at first. ---- (Robin and I got separated in town...so I was searching for him) (And then...ah, yeah, I met Sirius) (He was showing me the way...and then there was that bar on the dark street where I was only going to drink one drink, and then...) .... ....... .......... “Shit, I can’t remember anything...” I’m not sure how I got to this room or what happened after I blacked out. My head doesn’t hurt, so it’s not a hangover.  I only had one drink, that’s the one thing I CAN remember. “No way...” Nervously, I run my hands down my body.  The hem of my shirt was untucked, all the buttons completely undone, and my skirt was rolled up past my thighs.  (I want to think it’s just from how I slept...I really want to think that, but...)  Being drunk can make you roll around and do that. I can’t hide how anxious I am about this unexpected situation. My heart thumps painfully in my chest and my legs shake. ---- (Huh? A tattoo?) I see Sirius taking a shower in the other room, with a tattoo spread across his back. (That would mean Sirius and I...) Looking at the bed with disheveled sheets, I wrap my arms around my body and hug myself tightly. “Maybe...maybe we just slept, that’s all...” (It’s a pitiful excuse, I know.) (Oh my god!! I need to go find Robin!!) Remembering something very important, she runs out of the room. ---- Sirius: “Ha, she ran away.”

English version:

Where am I? I open my eyes and stay perfectly still for the first few minutes. ---- (I got separated from Robin in town and while I was looking for him I, ended up lost.) (And then...Oh right, I met Sirius. Man, he was attractive.) (He was showing me the way, then we paused for a drink, and then...) Then...Hmm. What did happen? I’m drawing a blank here. “What the? I have no memory of last night.” I have no idea where this is or the events that led to me waking up here. There are flashes of groans and sighs, but that’s all. My head doesn’t hurt, though, which suggests I don’t have a hangover. Not that I’d expect to have one over a single drink, but I remember that drink being similar to a potion. “Uh-oh. Did I hook up with someone?” I carefully pat myself down. My shirt’s untucked, the buttons are undone, and my skirt’s hiked up around my thighs. (Then again, I could’ve just slept weird. Here’s hoping.) I’ve definitely rolled around in my sleep while drunk before. Still, I never thought I’d have to do a walk of shame in another realm. My heart pounds as I look around, trying to figure out who I spent the night with. (Did I somehow manage to book a room for myself? With what coin?) (It’s like everything that happened since I got here caught up to me all at once. What did I do...?) ---- “What was that?” (A tattoo? It was a gorgeous one, if so.) (The question is, how acquainted did I become with that tattoo last night?) The rumbled bedding comes back into view as I put my head in my hands. “Maybe we just crashed here together after our drink.” “...” (Pitiful excuse, but I’ll take it for now.) (Wait, Robin! Oh god. I have to go find him.) I run out of the room as soon as I remember. Given how little of the situation I remember, it’s probably better if we put that night behind us. ---- Sirius: “Alas. She has absconded.”

Then after she leaves, it goes about the same in both versions. She finds Robin at the gates, is rushing to Toa’s class, gets stopped by Jasper. His voice reminds her of Sirius. He then teases her for being late and is like “You said you were going to go back to your room last night, but it seems like you went out and had fun instead.” and she snaps at him and says she didn’t. He acts surprised. She apologizes and walks off, embarrassed. He laughs.

So. Yeah. One of them, MC wakes up confused after being drugged and raped and is trying to process that and then remembers Robin, runs back to the dorms, and has to deal with Jasper teasing her saying she went out and had “fun” which triggers extremely fresh, bad memories. While the other one...MC is like. Did I hook up with someone?? Whoopsies! Hm, I wonder how I did that. Oh but that Sirius guy was SO hot. Oh shit! I have a cat that’s missing! Gotta go. And then Jasper teases her but she just gets upset because she feels embarrassed about hooking up with someone. Neat. Also, what is with Voltage and their obsession with using “abscond”???

----

Are you feeling uncomfortable right now? A little horrified that Voltage would write a story like that, and romanticize it? Awesome! Me too! Let’s take a break here before moving on. Thankfully, the next parts won’t contain anything near as triggering as the first interlude and chapter 9. 

(Next post currently in progress, will add link as soon as possible! This is taking much longer than I thought it would to write;;;)

[bitch-for-a-rainbow]

So there's a blanddcheadcanons post that says that "Kara is the mortal avatar of Rao" and I really don't like it, especially in the context of SG 3x04 (The Faithful). At best, as was pointed out to me by a friend with whom I discussed this post, the House of El is likely blessed and somewhat sponsored by Rao, which probably doesn't do much but produce Krypton's greatest heroes, given what the word "El" **means** in Kryptonian. I'm interested in your thoughts on this (pls post your answer).

    I reject the headcannon solely because if it were true it would mean Coville was right and I fucking hate that bitch.

     In all seriousness, though, this is an idea I've seen a lot and I'm not a huge fan of. I don't know much about Raoism beyond what appears in the show and that which can be inferred off of the show. One thing I would point out though is that El in Kryptonian (while obviously being intended to mean God by the original comic writers) can mean Sun or Stars, and since the Kryptonians in the show are, as far as I can tell, monotheistic, and worshipped only one particular star, the El family is not necessarily named God. It would, however, signify their enormous prestige on Krypton and contribute to the famous El pride (or rather, arrogance). I’m not sure it would necessarily have to mean anything more than that-- that the Els are a respected house who have produced a variety of successful politicians, civil servants, and scientists. And (this time reaching a little bit) that they are perhaps so old and respected that their house name was once a title. 

      There is a certain allure to the theory, for sure. Kara is a paragon character. She always, always does what she thinks is right, regardless of the cost, personal or global, and regardless of what other people might think of it. She has a very direct moral compass, and there are only a handful of times when she doesn’t follow it, all of which involve saving Lena. Ship who you want, but it is notable that Kara routinely prioritzes Lena’s life over that of others given the rarity of that happening otherwise. She never even considered breaking Rick Thompson’s father out of prison when he kidnapped Alex, and all he’d committed was bank robbery. Kara has lines she does not cross (though murder is clearly not one of them). She is a character that has seen some of the worst that sentient life is capable of, has seen more death and suffering than most people could imagine, and she came out of it with an all-encompassing desire to protect others. She lives to give people hope. Plus, the humor of having Kara-- the one person most offended by the idea of being an Avatar of Rao-- turn out to be an Avatar of Rao is great.

       But, I would also say that having Kara want to do good because she is the avatar of a benevolent god is reductive and not particularly true to her character. It is true that helping and protecting people is a large part of the core of who Kara is. But there is a difference between altruism and the self-destructive, bordering of suicidal desperation to save absolutely everyone that Kara practices. And to anyone who doubts the suicidal bit, I direct you to the season 1 finale where Kara literally goes on a goodbye tour because she thinks if she goes out to fight Non she’ll die. She still goes because she has hope, but that hope is that she can at least save Earth with her life. She doesn’t fight because she is certain in the ultimate victory of good and justice. She does it because she more afraid to lose another family than she is to die. Kara doesn’t become Supergirl and risk her own life because she believes in good, she does it because she can’t stand to listen to people suffer-- because she has suffered. To use Alex’s words in 1x13 “You fight everyday to keep people from struggling like you have.” Notably also in 1x13, Kara wakes up from the Black Mercy and her first words are “Who did this to me?” and then she goes after Non in what could arguably be described as a homicidal rage-- a rage that is fueled entirely for personal reasons, not the greater good of Earth (though that comes as an added benefit), which is.... not very befitting the avatar of a benevolent god. 

     A major part of season 1 is Kara dealing with grief and rage. She nearly breaks a guy's arm in episode 6 because he screamed at her for damaging his car, to hell with the children he'd almost hit with it. In season 3's Midvale flashbacks we see her first put both hands through a lunch table, then attack Jake when she suspects him for Kenny's death. She gets better at controlling it as the seasons progress, but during Crisis she very nearly melts Lex. Also not particularly godly of her. 

     Then there is the fact that so much of who Kara is is shaped by fear: fear of the government, fear of humanity, fear of abandonment, and fear of herself. In her civilian life, Kara is, for the most part, unnoticeable. She's polite, soft-spoken, doesn't wear a lot of bold colors or styles, and is often a pushover. As shown by her encounter with Red Kryptonite, Kara would not dress or speak the same way to people without the pressure of hiding her identity (though much of her dialogue is purely the loss of her "don't be an asshole" filter, some of it is stuff she had every right to say before and just didn't). I have always found that episode to be very interesting purely for the fact that Kara doesn't actually seem to be seeking harm on others so much as seeking their attention. Her argument with Alex is almost entirely about how much she hates having to hide and pretend to be less than she is. Kara drops Cat off the balcony and then catches her. She attacks the police when they point weapons at her but doesn't kill or even hurt them that badly, instead of destroying the car they're using as shelter. Red-K removed her inhibitions, made her angrier, yes, but if her goal was to actually hurt people, she could have done so-- would have done so, and with great ease. She goes to a public bar and uses super strength to smash bottles by flicking peanuts. Why do that at a crowded bar? Why not just flick potato chips at the windows in her own apartment?

      This is Kara at her absolute worst-- but does she seek out the DEO agents who shot her out of the sky? Does she go after Maxwell Lord or Non? No. She tries to make people pay attention to her. Her most shameful and hideous desire is for people to give her respect. (Admittedly, respect gained through fear, but still.). Kara's a nice person-- much, much nicer than average-- but a lot of that "nice" is just her avoiding conflict to avoid attention.

      Kara is a good person. Kara inspires people. But that is because Kara gets up every day and chooses to be good and to inspire. It's one of the reasons I enjoy Non as a villain so much-- he and Astra are Kara's narrative foils. They also remember Krypton and grieve its loss. They also were trapped in the Phantom Zone. But where Kara had the Danvers to convince her that some good people existed and would risk themselves just to help others, Non and Astra had Alura sentencing them to eternal suffering rather than helping them save their planet (through the means they thought necessary) and then landed on Earth and found it headed on the same path as the planet they'd just lost. Kara had people to help her grieve. Non and Astra were surrounded by misery. They lost hope. Kara discovered it.

     Kara is the Paragon of Hope because she has been hopeless. Because she has suffered so much, seen so much, and because she chooses to believe in a better future. She didn't have hope her first time in the Phantom Zone. She didn't even have hope for a while on earth. From what we can gather, Kara's choice to start actually believing in the future was a gradual shift that occurred sometime after Kenny's death and has lasted her ever since. For Kara, hope is learned. She chose to hope and she won't let it go, and to assign that incredible victory off to her being a God is an insult to her growth and to her character. 

   Now I personally thought “The Faithful” handled this concept very well. 3x04 is one of my favorite episodes of television in general, let alone in Supergirl. Season 3 is my second favorite season, and that says a lot for its good episodes when the bad of season 3 is so, so very bad (To say nothing of the episode to episode production value, we have the waste of Argo, Mon El’s return as obviously he’s grown he has a beard Mon El, and whatever the hell was going on with Kryptonian genetic engineering eclipse causing witches). To this day I don’t know why Kara had magic dreams. The show did nothing to explain it and I can’t imagine up a reason. 

     But “The Faithful” works because it highlights the whole paragon part of who Kara is. When you realize that every person in the room of Coville’s cult is a person she has personally saved-- that hits hard. Especially since only a fraction of the people she’s saved would ever set foot inside that building with the totally not-creepy, entirely wholesome way they deliver the invitations. (“Your daughter is special. She has been chosen. As have you.”) It works because it focuses on how the average human must view Kara, the ones who don’t see her argue with her sister over potstickers and crush her phone when she gets mad. It works because of how desperately hard Kara tries to be a human. It works because the writers know that we, the audience, do not see Kara as anything but a regular person with irregular abilities: a kind and remarkably devoted person, but not a god. 

[hideous-little-structure]

I think it's so interesting that one of the main reasons I've stayed on Tumblr this long is that the Nancy Drew games fandom is really robust here and I've met very few people irl who know the games or love them as much as I do, and yet here we are.

I joined the "clue crew" many many years ago after looking up a walkthrough for SCK because my weenie-hut-juniors ass was way to scared to finish the game after I blew up the diner by accident but I wanted to know how it ended. That was my first Arglefumph video and after that, I was hooked. I only owned SCK and HAU and the DVD version of CUR, but his channel let me experience every single game and I really loved watching the videos.

When I was around 15 I think, I was making my own little youtube videos and learning how to edit video. Michael's channel was still relatively small but he was gaining popularity and his videos started getting more ambitious. So, I reached out and told him I was a fan and looking to get more editing practice in, and that I'd love to edit for him. He said yes, and I made a couple of videos for him (a section of Everything Wrong With SCK and then the entirety of EWW CUR and CLK) and had a blast doing it. I asked to do them for free because I didn't need the money.

Afterwards, Michael and I became friends on Facebook and through him I met Paul Franzen of "Oh, a Rock" game studios. I made the trailer for the first Cat President game for Paul, a picture of my cat is in the second one, and I (as well as Michael) played a character in Internet Court which just came out on Tuesday. I was paid for all of these gigs at the insistence of Paul. I loved doing these as well and definitely would work with either of them again if they asked.

I'm transgender (non-binary sapphic) and started my transition at around the same time as I started working with Michael and Paul. Both of them have been friends with me throughout the entire process of me having top surgery, changing my name, and starting HRT. They have both been great friends and supporters of my transition. I have always felt safe with both of them.

I saw a post earlier today of some people upset that Her Interactive was promoting one of Michael's speedruns and had totally ignored a fan effort to raise money for charity. I don't know a ton of the details, but it's definitely common knowledge that being a part of the fandom entails a lot of ragging on Her Interactive, especially recently, as they have a track record of not being in touch with the fanbase. But people took it out on Michael, and as a friend of his, that bummed me out. I commented on it and someone messaged me and accused Michael of being racist and homophobic, as well as cheating on a speedrun. I told them about my relationship with Michael and that I didn't like that such strong claims were being made against him (I also looked into the speedrun thing, and to my knowledge he discovered an existing exploit in a game and Her asked him to take down his video because they didn't want the exploit to become widely known. I don't know the whole story though) especially because I know him personally.

Someone else screenshotted my comment and explained that their beef isn't with Michael on this one, which I appreciated, but someone else linked to a "your fave is problematic" Google doc about him. This frustrates me a lot. Here's the doc if you want to read it for yourself. I'm not gonna try and hide it because I've read through it and I'm not ashamed to be friends with this guy.

I don't know if he talks about it often anymore, but Michael used to be studying to be a Catholic priest. He's religious. But in my experience, he's always been kind about it and has never tried to force his beliefs on others. You can actually see in the doc that he treads pretty lightly. He's also a cishet white man with two daughters who just enjoys the Nancy Drew games and likes to share that joy with others. He was one of the first people to consistently make ND content and it seems like he was the intro to the fandom for a lot of people, so he's kind of become a cornerstone of the community.

There's a section of the doc about underpaying an artist, and I do feel for that person, but they didn't communicate about how they felt the work was worth more (I get it, I have social anxiety, I hate asking for more money, but I also understand that nobody can read my mind, especially not someone who isn't an artist or in touch with the artist community).

Michael is not a racist, or a homophobe, or a transphobe. He is a pretty nice catholic guy who tries to be considerate of other people and sometimes is uneducated but I've never seen him be intentionally malicious.

It's really hard to see someone you've known for years get thrown under the bus because he's just a guy who doesn't spend all his time trying to woke. His blog might have some stuff that I don't agree with, but he's the type of person to extend a hand to anyone who needs it, regardless of their situation or opinions.

I hope Her Interactive gets better about engaging with the fans and supporting all the really cool stuff that members of the community do, but I'm sorry, if you come for my friend like that, I'm not gonna sit there and take it.

[peekbackstage]

AU WWX & AU LWJ, what is your head cannon on their relationship dynamics. Who would have made the first move, who would have confessed and etc.

I’m guessing that this question is about my previous AU post about an alternate universe where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are idols! This post is probably going to be a little ridiculously embellished, because why not. 

In this universe, which is an AU version of our modern day world, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are the two biggest pop stars in China. While they fall in love while working on their series of critically acclaimed collaborations, they actually met many years before as trainees.

Upon meeting at a joint training camp held by Gusu Lan Entertainment, Lan Wangji decides that Wei Wuxian is quite possibly the most infuriating fool he has ever had the misfortune of meeting. After all, for a trainee from Yunmeng Jiang Entertainment, Wei Wuxian seems to lack all manners and decorum, loses the security badge required for entry into the Gusu Lan Arena, and to add insult to injury, seems determined to break every single rule Gusu Lan Entertainment expects their artists to follow. 

(Lan Wangji does not understand how Wei Wuxian is considered the most talented trainee Yunmeng Jiang has to offer. Clearly, there are better trainees. He does not have high hopes for the boy.) 

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, finds Lan Wangji -- no, Lan Zhan, since that’s actually his real name, not his stage name -- to be an endless source of entertainment. He’s not entirely sure why Lan Zhan is determined to never have any fun in life. (He’s not even sure if Lan Zhan knows what “fun” is.) He’s even more determined to find out, though.

(Lan Wangji is not impressed. He is, however, extremely confused.) 

In any case, at some point during the training camp, Wei Wuxian decides that he will be Lan Zhan’s friend, regardless of whether or not Lan Zhan wants him as a friend. 

(Lan Zhan has never actually had a friend. It’s all very strange to him.)

This is not supposed to be a fic, so I’m not going to include too much more backstory exposition here. Mostly, I wanted to offer some history before we get to the main course!

So, now we are a few years in the future, and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have both debuted. They aren’t megastars yet, so Gusu Lan Entertainment and Yunmeng Jiang Entertainment decide it might be a good idea to have their two budding idols work on a collaboration together, kind of like the Kangta & Vanness collaboration from 2011. Or Jun Ho and Van Ness, from 2012. (In fact, Van Ness Wu’s collaborations seem like a pretty good business model to copy.) 

During this process, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji spend many late nights working closely together. Unlike other idols, they actually write their own music, and even play their own instruments. They’re exceptionally talented musicians, and they discover just how well they complement one another during this time. 

[Insert some cheesy line about how their souls speak to one another through music, because this is The Untamed AU.] 

(It’s around this same time that Wei Wuxian starts to notice how distractingly handsome Lan Zhan is. He really has no right being that handsome. It’s rude, really.) 

They end up writing and recording enough songs to release an EP together. It’s all very productive. 

(It’s during this time that Lan Wangji realizes that he can’t seem to stop looking at Wei Wuxian -- correction, Wei Ying. He curses his treacherous eyes, which keep finding their way back to the ridiculous curl of Wei Ying’s mouth.)

[Insert an absurd amount of unfulfilled sexual tension, largely caused by a certain Wei Wuxian growing increasingly, outrageously flirty, much to Lan Wangji’s complete dismay.]

At some point, Wei Wuxian kinda-sorta accidentally gets Lan Zhan drunk. He really didn’t mean to. It sort of just happened. He discovers that Lan Zhan is kind of hilarious when he’s drunk. So he makes it a habit of occasionally convincing (or tricking) Lan Zhan into have drink. 

On a particularly hot summer night, after an entire day spent rehearsing choreography for the music video they are supposed to shoot the next day, Wei Wuxian once again manages to get Lan Zhan drunk. He kind of accidentally may have gotten himself drunk in the process. And maybe sort of accidentally ends up in Lan Zhan’s lap. He really didn’t plan for that to happen. It sort of just does, along with all the relatively rated-M stuff that happens after that. 

Afterwards, he panics, not unlike his counterpart in MDZS, cuz apparently, this is apparently Untamed-AU-meets-MDZS-AU. 

Wei Wuxian tells Lan Zhan that this is just the sort of thing that guys sometimes do together, and not to take it too seriously, then immediately runs off, because of course he does.

It’s all very dramatic. 

[Insert even more dramatic internal monologue.] 

Fast forward to the next day. It is now the big day of their music video shoot. 

Wei Wuxian gets there early, and arrives alone. Lan Xichen, who has no real reason being on set but who I need to put on the set because plot, is quite surprised to see Wei Wuxian on the set without his brother, especially considering that in recent weeks, they pretty much had become inseparable.  

One thing leads to another - I really don’t know how - but Lan Xichen is the best wingman ever and ends up more or less telling Wei Wuxian what a dumbass he is for not really understanding Lan Wangji’s feelings, because come on. Literally every single person on both teams know that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have been making eyes at each other like no one’s business. 

And of course, once Lan Wangji arrives on set, Wei Wuxian does what Wei Wuxian does best and declares, in front of everyone on set, that he really, truly deeply is in love with Lan Wangji. Remember, we are in Untamed-AU-meets-MDZS-AU land now, and apparently I’ve decided that this is now a retelling of the story through idol land. 

In any case, Lan Wangji is overcome with emotion and there is a dramatic embrace. 

The director of the music video sees all of this and decides to rewrite the script, right there on the spot. He tells the lead actress who they were supposed to both be pining over that she no longer will be playing a love interest. 

The music video for their first collaboration song drops. The song itself is renamed WangXian. It’s filled with “socialist brotherhood” (aka censored gay love) scenes of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji together. 

Pandemonium ensues. The single breaks records upon release. Youku’s site actually crashes because so many people are trying to watch the music video. WangXian instantly becomes the #1 trending hot search. CP speculation explodes overnight. It only gets worse when the BTS footage is released. 

Meanwhile, somewhere in Beijing, Wei Ying is sprawled on the couch, playing a video game on his phone, while Lan Zhan makes them dinner as Wei Wuxian’s cat rubs against Lan Zhan’s leg. It’s all very domestic. 

As for their relationship dynamics, I don’t think it would be all that different from the way they are in the show! They’re Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, after all. Where one goes, the other is sure to follow.

[fallingstarnovel]

Chapter Three

That Monday, when he got to the lecture hall, he glared at Aliya for the entire time. She was visibly avoiding his gaze, tugging down her hair so she wouldn't make eye contact with him.

After it ended, he quickly walked over to her, coughing loudly from behind his fist.

"So. Judas comes to face his crimes."

Aliya turned and gave him a pitying look. "I'm really sorry! I completely forgot I had a revision session in the morning and I had to prepare for it. I felt so guilty."

Evan glared at her for another second – before rolling his eyes with a smile. He was a benevolent kind of person when he wanted to be. "It's fine."

"You sounded like you had a good time," Aliya teased him. “Your texts were indecipherable.”

"Uh. I think I did." He pulled a face as he failed to remember literally anything about how he got home. "It’s all kind of a blur. There was this girl..."

Aliya's eyes went wide. "There was?"

"Ah, shut up, she just said a bunch of stuff at me and then... Hm. I don't remember much after that, but clearly nothing weird happened since I got home safe and fully dressed."

Aliya tutted. "This is why I don't drink. Sounds kind of scary."

Evan opened his mouth to say something like "you get used to it", but then he remembered that he was trying to be normal and closed his mouth again. "Yeah. Haha, a little. I'm not sure you would have enjoyed the party. It was loud and everyone was off their faces."

"Maybe. I'm glad you were okay, though. And you got home safe."

Evan smiled. By now, they were long outside the lecture hall and were walking through campus. Students were rushing from building to building, or walking in groups and chattering away together. So many people who were meant to be here. They all looked like they were right at home.

There was a flash of black in the corner of his vision. Evan turned his head automatically, only to see the black cat from a few days ago sprawled across a wall. It was staring at him with green eyes, unblinking and imperious.

"Oh, it's the university cat," he said to Aliya. "Look."

"Aww. I'm more of a dog person," she said bluntly.

The cat's eyes narrowed in disgust.

Evan was about to go over and pet it when he heard someone say his name over his shoulder. He looked behind him, only to see a boy with curly blond hair and an angelic smile. He was looking at the cat with a strangely intense gaz, before snapping back to smile at Evan.

"Ruth!" he said. "Hey!"

Ruth waved. "Hello again. You look like you've recovered from Friday night."

Wait. Wait a minute... Evan squinted at him, before feeling his face flush red. Was Ruth there as well?! He didn’t remember seeing him at all!! He laughed awkwardly. "I am. So sorry. I don't remember a lot. I was... very drunk."

Ruth nodded. "I was. I thought you might have difficulty remembering."

Aliya's eyebrows inched up her forehead, right into her hijab. Evan realised that he had been quite rude, and quickly introduced her. "This is my terrible friend from Astro. She invited me to the party and then left me to die."

"I'm Aliya," she said, elbowing him in the stomach subtly.

Ruth gave her a polite nod, before turning his attention back to Evan. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself into your house. You seemed very worried that I was going to harvest your organs."

"You were the one who took me home?!” Evan yelped, feeling the blood rush all the way to the tips of his ears. “Oh, haha, what? Haha, so weird," Evan said, feeling himself dying of mortification again. "Thank you so much. I don't mind at all. That was really nice of you. Usually I just stumble home by myself, you know? God, sorry, I must have been so annoying to handle."

Ruth shook his head, his hair tumbling around his ears. "You weren't annoying at all. You were very sweet, like a well behaved child."

Evan wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "Haha, that's good. Still, I'm so sorry. Thank you. Augh."

How was he so bad at this?

An idea occurred to him. He quickly started rummaging in his pockets. "Wait, wait, I think I owe you a coffee for saving my life twice now. I don't have a lecture for a while, so..."

Ruth looked at him in surprise. There was a yawning moment of silence in which Evan questioned everything that made him ask that question and wondered if it was too late to change his name and move to Mexico.

But then Ruth smiled. "I think I owe you one instead. You spilled yours last time."

"In that case, I'll pay for yours and you pay for mine, and we can call that even," Evan laughed, feeling relief flood through him.

There was a polite cough from behind him. "Well, I have a study group to get to, so," Aliya said, shooting Evan a knowing smile. "I'll let you two go have fun. See you, Evan."

Evan felt a little bit guilty at accidentally muscling Aliya out of the conversation. He waved her goodbye and turned back to Ruth, and all his guilt was forgotten. Ruth's smile was blinding. There were two little dimples in his cheeks. Wow, he didn’t know anyone in real life with dimples.

"Let's go," he said, inclining his head in the direction of the coffee shop, and off they went.

Evan watched Ruth over his coffee while trying to look like he was doing no such thing.

Ruth was fascinating. He had a very handsome face, with eyes that could have been carved into one of those old statues they kept in the museums of Rome. His movements were all graceful and deliberate, from the way he stirred his coffee to the way he unwrapped his blue scarf from around his neck.

He was also tall. Evan wasn't short – okay, he was kind of short – but Ruth made him feel like a god damn manlet.

"So," he said, because he felt the need to fill the silence with something, "what course are you on?"

"Actually, I'm a part time student."

"Eh, no way. I didn't know you could do an undergrad part time!"

Ruth smiled and shrugged. "I have a job on the side. It takes up a lot of my time. I suppose the university understood I had other commitments."

Evan blinked. "Wow. Must be an intense job."

"You have no idea," Ruth said, something steely glinting in his grey eyes. "But it's rewarding."

"Is it why you skip so many lectures?"

Ruth nodded. Evan couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"Then what is it?"

Supermodel? Secret agent? Government official? What was important enough that the university would let him mess around with the schedule like this?

Ruth just winked at him, and Evan immediately upgraded all his guesses. Eldest son of a mob boss. Heir to the CEO of a huge corporation. A superhero in disguise as a student.

"That's fine. I didn't want to know anyway," Evan lied. "I bet it's something boring like business management."

Ruth ran his finger along his cup, his eyes flickering down to the table. "In a way, I suppose you're not far off."

"So... why astrophysics?"

"No reason, really. I just felt something pulling me here. That's all."

Wow! Such a free spirit! This guy was definitely some kind of billionaire. Only a rich person could afford to come to university on a whim and then spend half his time doing something else instead. Evan, who thought coffee was a fancy treat, tried to contain his jealousy and failed.

They drank their drinks in companionable silence. Evan was full of questions, but he didn’t want it to seem like he was interrogating his new friend. He was just curious!

“Do you... go to a lot of student parties?”

Ruth shrugged. “Not generally.”

“Oh. Aside from last night, I guess. Um... actually, about last night... I was wondering about what exactly happened.”

Ruth went still. “Yes?”

“Was I... alright? When did I go home?”

“I found you upstairs in someone’s bedroom with a few people. It looked like you were playing some kind of game that involved kissing,” Ruth replied. “You seemed very uncomfortable with the situation. Did I misread that?”

A kissing game. What the hell. Evan hadn’t played one of those for years. He wondered who he was smooching when Ruth discovered him. So deeply, horrifically embarrassing.

“I have no idea,” Evan replied with a shrug. “I don’t really remember if I was comfortable or not.”

There was a faint frown colouring Ruth’s pleasant smile. “Then I’m glad I was there regardless. There should be no room for doubt with things like this.”

“Hah, in an ideal world. In my experience, there’s always doubt. You just kind of have to move on afterwards.”

Ruth’s throat bobbed, but he didn’t say anything else. His coffee was steaming so much that it fogged up Evan’s glasses, and he took them off with a chuckle to clean them. “Wow, look at that,” he said, desperate to change the subject. “It’s that time of the year where I go blind every time I enter a warm room. You don’t wear contacts, right?”

Ruth, still speechless, shook his head. Oh, this was awkward. Evan got the horrible feeling that he had messed up somewhere.

“So lucky. Well, hah, look at the time. I should start heading to my next lecture.”

He didn’t have a next lecture. That was a lie. But he really didn’t want to hurt the poor guy’s feelings. He started gathering his stuff slowly, trying not to look like he was rushing out of there. Ruth let out a deep breath, before reaching across to lightly touch Evan’s wrist. His skin was very hot from where it had been holding his coffee cup.

“The next time you go to a party,” he said quietly, “take me with you.”

“Sorry?” Evan said, certain that he misheard.

“Take me too. I, ah.. I’m actually quite nervous around people. And I find it difficult to go alone. It would be... nice to have a friend to go with.”

“Oh, dude, me too,” Evan said, giving him a reassuring smile. “I have mad social anxiety. I actually don’t get invited to a lot of things like that anymore, but if I do, I guess I’ll text you and see if you’re free?”

Ruth nodded, his hand slipping off Evan’s wrist.

“Thanks.”

“It’s no worries. We can be anxious buds together.”

With a slow incline of his head, Ruth signalled that he would like that, and Evan felt some of his nervousness settle somehow. It was a surprisingly soothing gesture.

“Well. See you at the next one.”

“See you then.”

And then Evan rushed off to hide in the library for a couple of hours so Ruth wouldn’t see him walking around campus when he was supposed to be in a fake lecture instead.

Evan was getting out of the shower when he noticed something black flash in the corner of his vision. He whirled around, rubbing shampoo out of his eyes, visions of getting murdered by some opportunistic shower murderer running through his brain.

However, when he looked around, there was nothing there. He swore he saw something, though. Something in the reflection of the bathroom tiles near his back.

When he was done, he stopped by the mirror in the hallway and checked his body just in case the black thing had been a huge house spider or something. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had a spider fall on him in the shower. Usually they washed down the sinkhole, leaving Evan shivering and feeling strangely violated, but what if this one managed to cling onto his naked skin?

There was no spider. Instead, sprawling across Evan’s lower back like a trampstamp was a sprawling, intricate black tattoo, formed from archaic lettering and symbolism that he couldn’t read.

“Hey, what the fuck,” he said into the empty house.

Having no housemates meant that he couldn’t run into anybody’s room and ask them to read whatever the hell it now said on his back. He tried rubbing at it, but nothing happened. It didn’t even feel weird or raised. It just felt like skin, and it didn’t budge.

Not even soap or nail polish remover got it off his back. It was like ink had sunk into his skin and stuck there overnight.

Evan was, understandably, more than a little freaked out.

> HEY UHHH SO > sent: image_5473843.jpg > ???

wow, that’s a really interesting tattoo!! when did you get it? <

> well you see that’s the thing aliya. i didn’t. > i do not know where this tattoo came from. ummm > i am freaking out a little!!

wh??! < you mean it just....??? appeared?? <

> yeah?? i literally do not remember getting any tattoo there??! ever?

you do have a lot of tattoos... are you sure you didn’t forget about one of them? <

> you don’t just forget about a tattoo!! > okay actually. sometimes you do. BUT NOT THIS BIG. THIS IS A TRAMP STAMP > I WOULD NEVER GET A TRAMP STAMP > oh god what if this happened while i was drunk at that party

ok calm down do you want me to come over and look at it? <

> no, it’s fine. i’ll just. ???? hhhhhhhhh > wait, there is something you can do! can you get me the numbers of uhh. fuck what was their name uhhh Tree. Branch > ROCK > and there was this girl who dressed like a goth, they were both at the party, can you ask your netball friends if they have their numbers? they might know what happened?? i guess? help?

i’ll ask around babe x sorry about this maybe go to the police? <

> they’ll just say i was drunk and there was nothing they could do. but thank you anyway i really appreciate this. sorry for bothering you

no need to apologise at all xx hoping you’re okay xx message me whenever you like <

Evan examined the tattoo in the mirror again. Now that the shock had worn off... well. Aliya was right. He already had so many tattoos. Most of them were already stupid ones he got on a whim. So even if he didn’t ask for this one... it was okay, right? It wasn’t so bad.

It was even kind of cool, in an old-school, mall goth kind of way. Spidery webbing and dots of red ink in what he thought might have been flowers of some kind. He tried to take a photo with his phone, but his hands kept shaking, so he just kept getting blurry pictures of his ass. Not ideal, honestly.

With a sigh, he stretched out on his bed and examined his older tattoos. His favourite one was still the navy outline of a falling star stretching down his inner arm towards his hand. It was his first proper one that he got done at a real tattoo parlour. A lot of the earlier ones were... well, the less said about how close he got to a skin infection, the better.

With a sigh, he tugged on a long sleeved shirt from his closet. Until he could work out why he suddenly had that black monstrosity on the back of his hips, he wasn’t sure he wanted to accidentally keep catching glimpses of it in every reflective surface.

Wait a minute. There was someone else there at the party. Someone who might have seen something that could help.

He opened up the messages from the unknown number and prayed that it was who he hoped it was.

> heyyy ruth i hope this is you!! haha hi

The reply came back about half an hour later, which was just long enough for Evan to overthink everything that had ever happened to him.

It’s me. Rest assured. :) <

Oh god. How to word this?

> well i’m doing good actually i’m you know. chilling! > actually there was something i wanted to ask you > please excuse the ass in this photo!!!!!

The what. <

> sent: image_5473843.jpg

Who did this. <

> funny question! i don’t know > i was hoping you could help???

I’m coming over. <

> no, i meant like do you remember seeing anyone at the party with a tattoo gun or a stick and poke or something?? you don’t have to come over sorry i don’t want to be a bother

You’re not a bother. I’m coming over. <

Well. Fuck. Evan panicked and threw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, and then felt stupid, because presumably Ruth was going to come and look at the tattoo. Maybe he should wear nicer clothes? Did he have time to tidy his room?

> are you sure haha i don’t want to inconvenience you!!!

I was in the area anyway. It’s okay if you don’t want me to come over. But I have an idea about what happened. < Sorry. I know this must be alarming. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. <

Evan thought about it. Well. It was the only lead he had.

> sure why not come on over

I’m outside. <

The doorbell rang.

***

As always, you can support this poor starving author and read the next chapter early on the official patreon!

You are also cordially invited to the scottiemadethis discord where we talk about online novels, danmei, bad recipes, the milf agenda, and so much more!

Previous Chapter | Contents | Next Chapter

[stahlop]

Ready to Run (2/?)

I know it's been 84 years since I posted a new chapter. I am so sorry. Between birthdays, Secret Santa, January Joy, and Neverland New Year, I kind of over extended myself. I'm hoping to update this every two to three weeks now.

Thanks to @imlaxdris71 for continuing to be my beta for this story.

Prologue Ch.1

Read it on Ao3

“Belle.” He says to his boss and the head of the vlog site. “Come on. It’s an opinion piece. You can’t fire me for having an opinion.” 

“I left you four messages and a slew of texts, Killian.” Belle sighs as she pushes a piece of mousy brown hair that has escaped her barrette away from her face as she looks for something on her laptop.

“And that surprises you? I never answered your messages and texts when we dated either.” He looks over at Will who happens to be in the office as well, which is odd because Will doesn’t usually come to meetings between them. Will is usually never out of the editing room when they’re at the office.

“What’s your boyfriend doing here?” Killian asks grumpily. He’s perfectly fine with Belle dating his best friend. He gave Will his blessing when he asked Killian if he could date Belle after they’d broken up. There were no hard feelings between him and Belle; they just worked better as friends.

“Moral support.” Belle says, her eyes lighting up as she has apparently found what she is looking for.

“Since when do you need moral support, Belle?” Killian teases. Belle does not look amused.

“I’m here for you, you wanker!” Will says practically knocking Killian out of his chair.

“Aha!” She says as she pulls up whatever it was she was looking for. “First rule of journalism, Killian, regardless of whether it’s an opinion piece or not, if you make up your facts, you get fired.” She gives him a stern look, one he got very used to when they were dating. It was a wonder she’d never killed him.

“Second rule: never work for an ex.” He sighs. Belle’s face gets even more stern. Killian has never even seen this face before, and he thought he knew them all. She sighs again and clicks a button on her computer. Killian hears the printer spitting out a piece of paper behind her.

“That has nothing to do with it, Killian.” She says as she rolls her chair around to the printer and grabs what it was she printed out. “If you make something up you get fired.” She looks completely exasperated with him, another look he knows all too well. Killian sighs this time.

“I didn’t make up anything, I had a source.” Belle knows him too well to think he would just make something up, so he’s really confused as to where this whole tongue-lashing is coming from.

“Someone reliable?” She questions raising her eyebrow at him. “Or someone in Liam’s bar?” Oh, he knows her way too well.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don't knock drunk guys in bars. It means they're not driving.” Will laughs at his joke. Killian puts out one arm toward Will and then looks back at Belle as if to say ‘See?’, but she’s still not amused by him. “Besides, l am an opinion vlogger. This is what opinion vloggers are supposed to do.” Killian is slightly agitated that Belle is making him defend himself over this. Usually, he just gets a talking to and that’s that. “It's what you like. We push, we stretch, we go out on a limb. That's what makes me good!”

“No, it’s what makes you fired.” Belle fires back. Killian’s had enough of this.

“What the hell, Belle?” Will laughs again from behind him. So much for support.

“Emma Swan has written a grievance against you and asked you to be fired or she will sue us for slander.” Belle says with finality. Killian’s eyes go wide with shock. Maybe he shouldn’t be getting his ideas from drunk guys in bars. And now that he thinks about it, he really shouldn’t have used her name. Will comes up behind him and rests his hands on Killian’s shoulders in a comforting way. 

“Please Belle, this is my life we’re talking about.” He says, no longer feeling cocky about all this. The wind has been blown out of his sails, so to speak.

“If you go quietly, I’ll see about getting you severance pay.” She says not looking at him in the eyes and handing him the paper she had printed out. He opens it to see the email that Emma Swan had sent about him and he realizes this is real. Just yesterday he was envisioning winning awards for this piece and now he doesn’t have a job.

“Come on mate.” Will says helping him out of the chair and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I’ll walk you to your desk so you can collect your things and escort you out.” They begin to walk out of Belle’s office.

“I can do it myself.” He says rather angrily. He instantly regrets it. It’s not Will’s fault he’s in this mess. 

“Well, actually, I do. I have to physically make sure you leave the building.” Will says a little embarrassed. 

“Of course.” Killian replies back. This was not how he foresaw his day going at all. Will has ceremoniously provided him with a small box to put everything in. He gathers up a picture of himself and Liam from when they were stationed together on the same ship, both looking pristine in their uniforms. He picks up the picture of Belle, Will, and himself, back when they were all just a bunch of single friends, before dating complications. A picture of himself graduating from college goes into the box, as well as other knicknacks he’s collected over the years. He leaves all the notebooks and writing utensils, he has enough of those at home.

Will stays silent through all this until the elevator doors close behind them.

“I have an idea that will get your job back.” Will says still facing the elevator door and not actually facing Killian. 

“What?” Killian says, confused. “What are you saying?”

“Revenge.” Will says now facing him with a slightly evil smile on his face. He and Will have been friends for a long time, and this is the first time Killian has ever seen this creepy smile grace his face. “How would you like some? A chance to prove that although your story wasn't entirely factual, your theory was correct.”

“The real story on Miss Swan.” Killian interrupts.

 “All the gory details.” Will’s actually rubbing his hands together like a movie villain. Killian raises an eyebrow. This is a side of Will he’s never seen before. For all the trouble they got into as young men, he’s never been blatantly evil about it. But he would like to get his job back. “And if she runs again, even better.” Will shrugs as the elevator bell pings that they’ve reached the ground level and the doors open up to the lobby. 

Will waves goodbye before the elevator doors close back up on him and Killian is left to ponder what Will has said. “Bloody hell.” He whispers to himself and immediately shifts his box to one side and grabs his phone from his pocket. He scrolls to find a car rental place and places the call as he walks outside of his former employer’s building. 

“Yes, I’d like to rent a car for next month.”

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After Henry had been born, Emma Swan had vowed to protect her heart and his heart from any further heartbreak. Having grown up in the foster system, it wasn’t that hard. She’d felt she hadn’t been loved from a very young age, and even though her parents had eventually gotten her back at the age of 10 (they’d been 16 when they had her and thought they’d been giving her her best chance by putting her up for adoption), she still had those trust issues. Neal did nothing to help those issues, and even after he’d gotten out of jail five years later, he was barely there for Henry, despite only living a few neighboring towns over. 

The problem though, was that Emma’s parents were the perfect fairy tale couple (despite the less than fairy tale teen pregnancy and adoption). They had met as children, the mayor’s stepdaughter and the farmer’s son. Her mother, Mary Margaret, and her father, David, had not hit it off at all. They fought like cats and dogs (David even had a scar on his chin from one such fight in which Mary Margaret threw a rock at him). It had eventually all come down to some school dance where they were forced to dance together as the dance’s king and queen, and they had never been apart since. They had married after college and established their careers, and when they had discovered they were pregnant with her little brother, Leo, they decided they wanted their whole family back together. Or at least, have contact with Emma if she’d found herself a loving home already. It took them a few years to find her, and it took Emma a few years to really trust them. After all, they had been the reason she’d been in foster care in the first place. And having a three-year-old brother practically right when she came to live with them sent those trust issues spiraling, as she’d been given up by the Swan family at the age of three when they’d conceived their own child. That was why she’d fallen for Neal so hard and fast. Her parents seemed like true love, and she’d wanted that too. But obviously it didn’t work out as well for her.

And sure, she’d tried finding another guy who could love both herself and Henry unconditionally, but something had always pulled at her gut right as she was walking down the aisle that made her run. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she didn’t want to regret marrying someone, even if she’d been pretty sure right until she walked down the aisle. 

And that’s why Graham was perfect. He knew her. He was under no pretensions about her past. He was currently the town sheriff, but before that he’d been one of the local deputies that helped the FBI take Neal down at her first wedding (the fact that she can think first wedding when she’s never actually been married is still something that wars in her mind). They’d been friends for a long time, he being only three years older than her. And it was after her aborted marriage to Walsh that he finally made his feelings known. Henry already loved him, thought of him as a father figure, and that’s all that mattered. And here they were, a year later, getting ready to get married. 

And she was going through with it this time.

“Graham! Graham!” She runs into the sheriff’s station high off the email she’s just received. “They canned him!” She says excitedly, shoving her phone in his face.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emma.” Graham says, dark blonde hair flopping in his face as he gives her a big ‘luckiest man in the world’ smile. “Try this on.” He hands her a large hiking backpack that he has at the station for some reason.

“Listen.” Emma says, absentmindedly putting her arms through the large pack’s straps as she reads. "Dear Ms. Swan, I apologize to you for this unfortunate matter.  Killian Jones’ vlog will no longer be appearing on our site. Best of luck in your upcoming marriage! Belle French.” She closes her phone and looks at Graham who is now beside her but still holding the pack up, which feels really heavy.

“That’s my girl!” He grins at her, then his face becomes serious. “Now this is the weight of the pack you’ll be wearing on the Inca Trail.” Graham has always wanted to go hiking on the Inca Trail and see Machu Picchu. It’s not really something Emma has ever thought about doing, but it makes Graham happy. It was definitely a better idea than Walsh’s honeymoon plans, which involved seeing different monkey species in their natural habitats all throughout the US. Or August who wanted to go to New York Fashion week and try to crash the runway shows. And then she’s suddenly falling backwards as Graham’s strong hands move away from the pack and the sheer weight of it pulls her down to the ground.

“Um, I think it’s a little heavy, hon. Can you help me up, please?” But instead of helping her up he kneels down and starts peppering her with kisses. She squeals in delight as they start making out on the sheriff’s office floor. Hopefully, no one will come in and interrupt them.

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Emma is hanging out at Hairandelle, Elsa’s hair salon, while Henry is visiting with his Uncle Leo, when she sees the black Chevelle convertible drive through the center of town. It’s a weekend, so they do tend to get tourists, especially with the beautiful fall foliage that has started appearing on the trees. Elsa raises an eyebrow toward her. She knows how much Emma loves cars. She’d restored her yellow Beetle all by herself, the only other thing Neal had left her with besides Henry. And the Chevelle is beautiful. Emma is tempted to go outside and take a look, has actually opened the door when the driver (who she’d only been able to see from the back until now) gets out of the car, parked in front of the local B&B. He looks slightly familiar to Emma, and then he takes off his aviator sunglasses and Emma’s temper flares!

“I can’t believe him!” She yells as she slams the door behind her, the bell jangling all over the place. Elsa’s expression changes quickly from the knowing smile she’d been displaying previously to one of confusion.

“Can’t believe who?” Elsa asks.

“Killian fucking Jones!” She points out the window at the Chevelle. Emma doesn’t think she’s ever seen Elsa sprint from her seat so fast as she pushes past her to get a glimpse of the man in the flesh. They both stare at him over copies of fashion and hair magazines.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Emma asks, a little panicked. She can’t imagine it’s for anything good, not after getting him fired from his job.

“Maybe he’s here to apologize?” Elsa says. Emma looks at her as if she’s suddenly turned into a snowman. 

“Doubtful.” She looks back over at him from behind the magazine and he turns toward them at that exact moment. He looks the same as he did on that awful vlog that he spoke on. Dark hair that was styled to look like he just rolled out of bed. Scruff on his chin that made Emma think things she really shouldn’t. Graham had the same type of scruff, he probably just makes her think of him. He’s talking to Leroy, the town gossip, and the grumpiest man she’s ever met (who likes to spend a lot of time in her jail cells after a night of drinking). He points straight toward them and then, they make eye contact. She squeaks and moves her magazine back up over her face. “Oh, god! Did he just see me?” She can feel her entire face flushing.

Elsa laughs. “He doesn’t know what you look like, remember?” She says patting her shoulder. But Killian Jones is now heading straight for them, and Emma is pretty sure Leroy just pointed her out to him.

“Shit!” Emma says as he continues toward the hair salon, a swagger in his step. She quickly jumps into one of the large bubble hair dryer stations, stuffs her hair up into the cap, flicks the machine on, crosses her legs, and puts the magazine up in front of her face just as the bell on the door starts jangling again.

“Hello.” Killian Jones says looking at Elsa intently, probably trying to figure out if she is the woman whose life he tried to ruin. “I’m looking for Emma Swan. Leroy over at the B&B said she was over here.” Emma wonders if Elsa would pretend to be her so she can make her escape. Elsa just gives him her patented eyebrow raise before asking him, “Are you a reporter?” like she doesn’t already know the answer. Emma smiles behind the magazine. Elsa’s going to mess with him. He’ll never know what hit him.

Killian Jones, to his credit, looks a bit taken aback that Elsa just straight up asked him if he was a reporter.

“What?” He seems to be trying to play it off as confusion instead of shock at being called out.

“It’s just that it’s been the most recent experience in our town that anyone asking about Emma happens to be a reporter wanting to interview her.” Elsa goes back to her style station and starts picking up various pairs of scissors, inspecting each pair.

“Because of her upcoming wedding?” Killian Jones offers.

“Oh, no.” Elsa says, turning back toward him brandishing a particularly sharp pair of scissors. “Because she got that asshole vlogger fired.” Killian Jones gives a nervous smile. Emma suppresses a giggle from behind her magazine and pretends to continue to be engrossed in the correct hairstyles for your face shape.

“I am just such a reporter.” He says sticking out his hand to shake Elsa’s. “And who might you be?”

“Elsa Frost. Yes, I get the Frozen jokes all the time.” She says never wiping the smile off her face. “And you are?” 

“Looking for Emma.” Killian Jones says flashing a brilliant smile at Elsa.

“Of course. Emma -- Someone to see you.” Elsa yells directly at her. Killian turns to look at the only other person in the salon, herself, and Emma can’t bring herself to drop the magazine from her face quite yet. She should have known Elsa wouldn’t be subtle. It was not her style.

“Emma?” Killian asks, stopping right in front of her. Well, this couldn’t be more embarrassing.

Emma slowly puts the magazine down and gives Killian Jones her brightest smile, as if seeing that she isn’t affected by him will make him change his mind and leave. She remembers at the last moment that she has the bubble hair dryer over her head and manages to flip it up and not bump her head on it. She doesn’t need to completely mortify herself quite yet.

“I really don’t know how much more you can say, sir.” She will not give away the fact that she knows who he is. He thinks he’s playing it cool, but the fact that he’s a vlogger doesn’t hide who he is in the least. Which gives Emma an idea.

“Hey Elsa!” Emma yells out. Elsa comes back around toward them, her blonde braid swishing behind her. As planned, Killian looks at her as she comes around and Emma mimes cutting his hair behind him. Emma quickly puts her hands back to her sides when he looks back at her. “Do you think I should give this reporter the inside scoop on my wedding?” God she hopes he takes the bait. He looks back at Elsa expectantly.

“I think…” Elsa taps her fingers along her cheek, “no one interviews Emma in here without a haircut.” Her face is full of mirth, but her voice is serious as hell.

Killian’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, ladies, just had one.” He then runs his fingers through his hair as if to prove his point.

“Well,” Emma has another idea that she thinks they’d be able to pull off. “what about a nice hot towel for your face? Get all that city dirt out of your pores?” She gives him a wide smile. “I promise I’ll answer your questions.” Killian looks at her questioningly, but then decides to take the win. He gives a smirk and sits down in the chair.

“So, when’s the big day?” He asks while Emma puts the cape over him. Elsa props him back in the chair so he’s in a lying position.

“A week from Saturday.” Emma says in an upbeat voice. She sounds like one of those peppy cheerleaders she always hated in high school. 

“Church wedding?” He asks with an amused look on his face.

“No. I’m not a church person.” Emma laughs at the notion. “We’re doing an outdoor ceremony in the woods at Graham’s cabin.”

“Sir.” Elsa interrupts. “I’m just going to put some lotion on your face, just to make it smoother. Your face will feel so nice once the hot towels are added.” She turns to grab what she needs and smothers a laugh that bursts out with a cough.

“Gum.” Emma explains. “She’s always choking on her gum.”

“So, Miss Swan. Are you nervous for your upcoming nuptials?” He asks, ignoring Elsa’s outburst altogether. 

“No, but I have been having these bizarre dreams…” And Emma makes up a whole slew of bizarre wedding dreams including all her past grooms walking her down the aisle and looking down to find herself in a red, leather wedding gown.

“What do you think all that means?” She asks him as Elsa removes the hot towel from his face and puts him back up into a seated position.

“I’m not really quite sure,” he begins and puts his hand to his chin as if he’s truly thinking about her dilemma, but stops short when he realizes his scruff is no longer there. His eyes grow wide as he jumps up from the chair and turns toward the mirror.

“Smooth as a baby’s bottom.” Elsa says giving Emma a high-five. Killian doesn’t respond but stalks out of the salon instead. Emma follows him. She’s not done messing with him yet.

“Mr. Jones,” she says as she opens the salon door and rests against it while still open. “I hope you realize what a mistake it was in coming here. I’m not some simpering little girl that you can tell lies about and bully to make yourself feel good. You can’t make me feel bad.” She tries to sound casual about it and leaves her arms resting at her sides, even though every instinct in her body makes her want to cross her arms over her chest. But this guy knows body language. She could tell from the way he carried himself in his vlog. Crossing her arms makes her look mad and angry and she can’t give him that.

“I’m not here to make you look bad, Miss. Swan.” He scrubs his hands over his face in frustration. “But apparently you want to make me look bad.” He says as he rubs his now bare chin. He looks like a totally different person without his scruff. Younger, more innocent. “What I’m here for is revenge.” Killian gets up close to her. Too close for comfort. She can smell the chemicals from the hair removal product they used to rid him of his beard. But she can also see his blue eyes and while Graham’s eyes are also blue, Killian Jones eyes are a blue all unto themselves. Emma can see why women find him attractive. “In my heart I feel I’m right about you and I’m going to prove it. You got me fired, Swan. That’s not something I take lightly. You chew men up and spit them out. You’re going to do to this poor wanker what you did to your other three grooms. Run.” His eyes are practically black now. Emma can tell he’s getting off on this ‘dressing down’ of her, but she keeps the smile pasted on her face because she can’t let him see that he’s getting to her, no matter how off his theory about her may be. “You are going to run again, and I’m not leaving here until you do.” Emma almost expects him to jab a finger into her chest, but instead, he backs off and gives her a grin as if he won that round.

“You know Mr. Jones, I’d love to stay and discuss my psyche or whatever it is you think is my motivation for being a multiple time runaway bride, but unlike you, I actually have a job, one I need to prepare for. Goodbye.” She turns and walks off, resisting the urge to look back at him. She won’t give him the satisfaction.

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx  @qualitycoffeethings @snowbellewells @courtorderedcake @klynn-stormz @tiganasummertree @therooksshiningknight @captainswanmoviemarathon

[houseofsannae]

A Fistful of Munny - Extended End Notes

Notes for A Fistful of Munny that don’t fit within the character limit under the cut!

Please, read the fic before reading this post

           All right! Welcome to the extended notes, in which I go into excruciating detail over a bunch of stuff that doesn’t matter, because I like the sound of my own voice!

           Let’s start with some more broad stuff that didn’t make the exclusive end notes space. To do the Fistful of Dollars homage, I needed a place where I could have two villainous factions intersecting for Strelitzia to play against one another. After some brainstorming and asking for help from other people working on the Entwined in Trine Sorikai zine (and ultimately ignoring all their very good suggestions (Sorry, guys!)), I eventually realized that the Wasteland from Epic Mickey was a perfect place for this story, both in the sense of having mooks to destroy without Strels committing actual murder, and in the thematic sense of forgotten characters. There was just one issue.

           I hadn’t played Epic Mickey.

           And that is how I spent my summer, playing both Epic Mickey games. Both, because I was looking for a good location to set the story in in-world. Since the Wasteland is based on the Disney theme parks, I was hoping to find one based on Frontierland, their Western section. Such a location did exist – Disney Gulch – but only in the second game. Which meant I had to play Epic Mickey 2, as well. (The first one is a better game, but that’s not really the fault of the developers; they were not given the time they needed to make it as good as the first one. Here’s a video with trivia about the series that goes a little into the development.) I also needed to learn the Mad Doctor’s ultimate fate, since I wanted his Beetleworx/Blotworx to be one of the two villainous factions. In the game, depending on whether you chose the Paint (Paragon) or Thinner (Renegade) path, the Doc is either redeemed… or dead. Neither of which was helpful, so I had to invent.

           But let’s talk about characters and why I picked them in order. The short version for why these choices, at least on the Final Fantasy side, is set-up for later. Obviously I can’t go into detail why. Before that, let’s talk about the Beanie Baby.

           Chi is, as I hope you were able to guess, Strelitzia’s Chirithy. I’ve brought it up several times, but I personally do not like mascot characters. There are a few exceptions, but Chirithies are not one of them. Like I said, KHUx isn’t what happened in this AU, so you’ll have to wait for in-universe answers on why it’s a cat now. Out-of-universe reason is this was the only way I could make it palatable for myself. I arbitrarily decided on a gender for it because as a real cat, it would have a sex. Canonically Chirithies appear to be genderless, and in Japanese refer to themselves with the gender-neutral (but masculine-leaning) boku. I would’ve left Chi that way, save for the fact that he’s a completely normal cat now. (And before you ask, no, not every real cat that appears in KHΨ from this point on is a Chirithy.)

           As for Strelitzia herself, it’s hard for me to pick up a character’s voice when they’re… not voiced. Intonation and cadence do a lot for me mimicking the way a character talks, so it’s a bit more difficult when they don’t technically speak. I tried for a mix between Sora and Kairi, while still keeping her defining character traits of being shy, but also impulsive.

           You may notice that while she’s started remembering faces, if not names, the Player’s name and face still eludes her, despite her (canonical. Deal with it.) crush on them. There is a story reason for this, and will become clear once Luxu takes centre stage.

           The name “Jane” was chosen with more consideration than just “Jane Doe” being the standard name in (at least my corner of) the English-speaking world for a woman of unknown identity. See, the Man With No Name actually has three names. In A Fistful of Dollars, he is referred to (by one character in one scene, once) as “Joe”. “Joan” might have been a more clear homage, but I figure Jane makes sense. And as you might guess, in the next fic, Strels will be going by a different name, still not her own. She’ll remember her name… eventually.

           One might think I could’ve picked any old Cid, and one would be wrong for reasons I can’t explain yet. In fact, I can’t explain much of anything surrounding him yet. What I can say is no, Cidney Aurum is not dead, she’s just not related to Cid Sophiar in this fic verse. An unfortunate consequence of where I wanted to put each of them in the narrative; making them not be related was the only way it made any sense, geographically speaking.

           Hyperion on the other hand, I can talk about. He’s one of the Gremlins in Epic Mickey, and… wait, first things first. Gremlins are from an abandoned Disney film based on a Roald Dahl book, itself based on the cryptids that supposedly haunted airplanes and caused them to malfunction, the earliest known written-down mention of the concept being from the 1920s. The film never got made, but the designs Disney would have used were adapted into a second printing of Dahl’s book, and they were later used in Epic Mickey. Hyperion is, like the publishing imprint that Disney owns, named after a street that Walt Disney used to live on. In-game, Hyperion is in Bog Easy (based on the Haunted Mansion), not Disney Gulch, but his name stuck out to me as being particularly fun, so I picked him instead of trying to figure out what Gremlins actually are in the Gulch (they have names in the files of Epic Mickey 2, but not in the actual game, so it would have been a hunt).

           Regardless of where the setting ended up, for the second villainous faction, I was always going to plop down the good old Don. More things I can’t talk about. For everything FF7, know that I’m always going to be pulling from a mix of the original game, Remake, and Machinabridged. Hence, Corneo’s outfit is a mix of his original and Remake designs (which basically just means he’s wearing blue jeans instead of brown). I didn’t think bringing in his three lieutenants from Remake was necessary, especially since this was supposed to be a kind-of small operation.

           Leslie is picked up and dropped from Remake pretty much unchanged. I needed someone to do the murders Strels couldn’t, and even if he’s not a complete asshole, he’s still mostly an asshole. Have we ever seen small, Materia-like balls used to cast magic before…?

           Onto the fun bits, which is the Disney characters. We’ll start with Percy, who is from a Goofy short called “How to Ride a Horse”, from 1950. And that’s about it. The conceit in Wasteland is that all of the Toons there were basically actors, and they wound up in Wasteland if they were forgotten (that’s not exactly correct, but I’m generalizing). This is interesting, since two of the Toons in Epic Mickey are Horace Horsecollar and Clarabelle Cow, both of whom… are residents of Disney Town in Kingdom Hearts, having shown up in Birth by Sleep. So that’s an interesting continuity snarl that I’m going to just ignore.

           Persephone and Pluto, on the other hand, are from an earlier short called “The Goddess of Spring”, from 1934. It was one of the projects Disney tried as practice for Snow White. If you’re about to protest that his name should be Hades, not Pluto, then you’re going to need a time machine so you can tell them back in the 30s. The Goddess of Spring is a musical, in the sense that every single line is sung. Watch it for yourself. There’s a video with better quality floating around YouTube, but for some reason it’s the French dub. And that’s why both of them sing most of their lines. I tried matching the meter of their actual parts, but Persephone’s doesn’t actually follow a syllabic pattern that I could make out. I eventually gave up and just gave her the meter from the start of the short. Pluto’s was easier to manage (and more consistent).

           The skeletons are Disney veterans, presumably the same ones from “The Skeleton Dance” (1929), but more specifically they’re mimicking what they did in “The Mad Doctor” (1933), the first appearance of our other villain. They’re fun.

           The original Mad Doctor was supposedly named “Dr. XXX”, according to the name on his door. This was before the modern film rating system was put in place; it was a different time. In the original short, the Mad Doctor kidnaps Pluto (the dog) with the intent of cutting him in half and putting his front half on a chicken For Science!, and Mickey follows him to his castle to rescue the purloined pooch. The short wasn’t a musical in the same vein as “The Goddess of Spring”, but… the Mad Doctor’s only spoken lines were a song (aside from evil cackling). While I had already decided to do the “Toons that sang in their short can only communicate through song” with Persephone and Pluto before starting on Epic Mickey 2, I hilariously discovered that the game developers had done the exact same gag with the Mad Doctor, most of his lines in the game being sung. (In Epic Mickey there were no fully voiced lines, so he speaks as normally as anyone else does). Which made it easier to write his songs here, since I could just rewrite his songs from the game. I used to write alternate lyrics for songs back in high school, so this was an interesting trip back in time for me. They were stuck in my head for weeks afterwards, but it was worth it.

           I believe that’s everything for the characters. Let’s talk about Keyblades.

           It irks me that three people in KHUx have the same Keyblade. Ephemer, Skuld, and Strelitzia all have variations of Starlight. Now, in KHΨ, there is only one Starlight, and it belongs to Luxu, so I’m going to have to decide on different Keyblades for each of them. (Ephemer’s has already been decided, and I haven’t started brainstorming for Skuld yet. No I do not need suggestions, thank you). Pixie Petal bears a noted (by KHWiki) resemblance to one of Marluxia’s alternate scythes, so that tangential connection was enough for me. Both siblings have flower-themed Keyblades – it makes sense to me.

           You might notice a few disparities in the magic. These are on purpose, and will eventually make sense. And that’s all I can say on that at the moment. ;)

           Oh, yes, one important thing I probably should have said on the main notes: I’m not going for a realistic depiction of amnesia here. Anything I got right was entirely accidental, and I’m fairly certain there’s not much. There might be a story reason for why it works the way it does… and it might be the same reason why other people from KHUx have or had amnesia in the present day…

           You know what’s funny? Although Orcuses look more impressive than Invisibles, their stats in Days are actually worse. I’m fairly sure that this is because the only time we see an Orcus, it’s actually an illusion cast over Xion so that Roxas will fight her to the death. There are no other stats for them (according to KHWiki), since they’ve never been used elsewhere.

           A friendly reminder that Apprentice Xehanort invented the term “Heartless”, which was why Aqua didn’t know what to call them until Mickey told her. Thus, nobody from the era of the Keyblade War should know the term “Heartless” without being told by someone in present day. “Darkling” was the term they used instead. I’m fairly certain KHUx ignores the continuity on this (so why should we trust its continuity for anything else, hmm?)

           I think that covers everything! Or at least everything I’m willing to share at this point. If you’ve read this far, thank you! I appreciate your dedication! ^_^

[exhaustedfander]

moxiety with fake dating? mayhaps with some gay panicking because ahhh cute stranger hold hngg hand??

I was having such stupid technical difficulties ith Word, but here it is, sorry it’s been like three weeks, lol. I’d love to hear what you think! 

a03 link

word count: 3,008

Fake it Till You Make it 

Virgil’s always careful whilst staking out a seat in the coffee shop he frequents. He makes sure not to sit in an area that’s too crowded, as to bypass unnecessary human-contact, while simultaneously avoiding the table too close to the door that lets a draft in. He’s been coming here a long time now, as it’s the closest place to his College, as well as the fact that the coffee is reasonably priced, and the atmosphere is pretty damn cozy. Also… there’s a barista that happens to be the cutest man Virgil’s ever laid his eyes on, but that’s beside the point! 

By now, all of the staff know his order – a cinnamon Cappuccino with enough whipped cream to drown in – like the back of their hands, so he has to worry about social interaction a lot less than usual. The adorable barista in question, Patton, has only ever taken his order, sweet as can be while doing so, but Virgil’s never really talked to the guy. Not that he plans on it! That is waaay too nerve-racking to so much as think about, thank you very much. Sure, he can get lost in those ocean-blue eyes and often fantasizes about running his hand through those strawberry-blonde curls but talking to him is strictly out of the question. He likes this coffee spot and would really hate to have to find a new shop all because he’s made a fool of himself. 

So, it’s not hard to imagine Virgil’s utter shock when he finds that very same barista standing beside him, a dazzling smile on his face.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, in reference to the chair beside him, and Virgil’s fairly sure he forgets how to breathe for a moment. 

“Uh – no,” he manages to stutter, “It’s all yours, man.” The barista grins, sitting beside him. 

“Thanks… Virgil, right?” Virgil blinks surprised he’d remember something as inconsequence as his name. 

“Yeah,” Virgil says, “My, uh, friends call me Virge. You can, too, if you wanted to.” Virgil despises the way his voice is trembling; why is he so fucking nervous? It’s just basic, human, social interaction (with the most beautiful man to grace this Earth, but basic, human social interaction nonetheless)

“Sure, thing, Virge. I’m Patton,” he says, as though Virgil hadn’t memorized the name on his nametag the moment, he saw him. “I like your pin, by the way.” 

Virgil glances down at the Bisexual pin on his backpack, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. It’s not like he’s missed the rainbow shirt he’s seen peeking out from behind Patton’s apron sometimes – an apron he doesn’t currently have on, meaning he’s off the clock, also meaning instead of going home, he’s sitting here, talking to him. So, yeah, Patton’s probably gay, and he’s talking to him, but that doesn’t actually mean anything. It doesn’t stop Virgil from panicking quite a bit, though. 

“Thanks,” Virgil says, trying his absolute hardest to keep his cool. He’s wanted to talk to Patton for so long, but he hadn’t imagined it would ever actually happen. 

“You come here a lot, huh?” Patton asks. Virgil rubs at the back of his neck, struggling to maintain eye-contact. 

“Uh- yeah. This is a cool place, and it’s not too far from my school.” Virgil fails to mention the fact that Patton’s a big reason he comes in nearly daily, thinking such a detail might come off as super creepy.

As awkward as Virgil is, a conversation is struck up. He learns that Patton is a student at his college, too (How the fuck did he manage to miss a face like that??) and that he’s studying to be a Veterinarian, which Virgil finds a little funny, considering he’s terribly allergic to cats. Patton’s a big fan of dad-jokes and puns, and while he can try and groan, it just manages to make Patton all the more adorable. He also discovers that yes, Patton is gay and that he first came about a year ago. 

“Yeah, my parents weren’t too thrilled,” Patton says in a voice that’s desperately trying to stay chipper, but the sorrow creeps in all the same, “They still aren’t.” 

“Mine either,” Virgil says before he really knows what he’s saying, “I haven’t, uh, talked to them in a long time. I might never again, honestly.” A look of sympathy crosses Patton’s face, though it’s clear that he relates, maybe more than he wants to admit to himself. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Virge.” 

Virgil shrugs. It’s nothing new. He came out to his parents at seventeen, a choice that was quite the feat considering the level of anxiety he suffers from, and it hadn’t gone well at all. His folks hadn’t kicked him out, but they’d insisted that he was never to take a boy home. At first, Virgil had tried to get on their good side, they were his parents, after all. But it didn’t take long for him to realize what a fruitless venture that was. They weren’t going to change, regardless of how much he wanted them to. 

Once he got to college, he had an opportunity to meet a few really great people, despite his social-anxiety, individuals who had shown him how important it is to have positive relationships in life. At this point, it could undo a few years of positive change to let his parents back into his life, and Virgil wasn’t about to go and do a thing like that.

“It’s alright,” he says, “They’re assholes, anyway. I got some pretty cool relatives though, and some really good friends, so that helps.” Patton frowns, and suddenly Virgil decides he despises the sad expression on him, wondering what the hell he could do to make it go away.

“My parents are assholes too,” Patton murmurs, as though saying such a word is incomprehensively bad, and as if Virgil hadn’t said it too about three seconds ago. “They really are. I’ve been trying. Trying so hard to be patient with them and allow them time to adjust but… it just isn’t happening. They’re still talking about when I end up with “some lucky lady.” I don’t know…” Patton pauses, his eyes widening, “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry.” Virgil tilts his head. 

“What for?”

“For dumping all that on you. I mean, we hardly know each other. It was rude of me.” 

“Nah, man, you’re good. I was just talking about my parents, there’s no reason to apologize. And I should know, I’m kind of the king of apologizing for shit I didn’t do.” Patton cracks a small smile at that, and Virgil swells with a pit too much pride. “My point is, you didn’t overshare, or anything. We’re just having a conversation, you’re good, I promise.” Patton looks relieved. 

“Thanks, Virgil. You’re really nice.” Virgil’s heart can’t help but soar a little bit at that. Sometimes, he’s convinced he’s a massive asshole, despite his friends insisting that it isn’t. but it’s really nice to know that Patton thinks he’s nice.

“No prob, Pat. You’re nice too.”

“Well then, I’m glad we were able to break the nice,” Patton says, earning a half-hearted groan. “I’ve kinda wanted to talk to you for a while, actually.” Virgil’s heart skips a beat. 

“R-really? Why?”

“Because,” Patton says with a smile, “You always seemed so interesting. Mentioning your Pin was, uh, kind of just an excuse to talk to you,” Patton admits and, holy shit, is he flirting?! Virgil can’t tell, but sirens are going off in his head regardless. 

“I – uh,” Virgil bites his tongue, trying to come up with a dignified response of some kind, but failing to do so. “Thanks?” Despite Virgil’s criminal lack of tact, Patton just smiles, a look that quickly disappears when he gets a notification and checks his phone.

“What’s up?” Virgil asks, before realizing it’s hardly his business. He’s known Patton for what? An hour or so now – oh my god, Patton’s been talking to him for over an hour – and that doesn’t give Virgil the authority to inquire upon the barista’s personal life beyond what he’s already been told. Patton shakes his head.

“My cousin Dalilah getting married next week,” Patton explains, despite Virgil’s hesitation, “She’s one of the only family members who I’m really close to; she’s such a sweetheart.”

“Then what’s wrong?” 

“My mom and dad are going to be at the wedding,” Patton sighs, “And I don’t have a date. If I show up without some guy on my arm, I know they’re just gonna assume that the crisis is over, and they can set me up with the next available girl. They already think me being gay is a phase, this is all the reason they need to think the phase is over.” A sad look flickers in Patton’s eyes and instantly, all logic or uncertainty that Virgil’s clinging to goes out the window.

“What if I was your date?” Patton’s eyes go as wide as saucers and, oh shit, he really just said that aloud.

“W-what?”

“L-like a fake date,” Virgil backpedals, his heart rate spiking in a matter of seconds, “So t-that your parents aren’t dicks to you. Or at least, are less of dicks.” 

For a moment, Virgil almost dares to think that the explanation made Patton look kinda… disappointed? Not that it would make much sense, it’s not like he’d actually want Virgil to be his date. 

“Virgil you… you can’t be serious.”

“Well, why not?” Virgil asks, knowing he’s most probably going to regret this later, “You’re a cool guy who’s in a shitty situation. Your parents are going to be relentless to you, and I don’t like the idea of that, so… why don’t I make things a little easier for you?” Virgil says, impressed he gets through it without feeling as anxious as he had a few moments ago. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Patton mumbles guiltily, his eyes cast on the table, “I wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your weekend just for me.” 

“Pat, I was just gonna aimlessly scroll through Tumblr till two in the morning and watch shitty TV. And– erm– being your fake date sounds a lot more interesting to me.” (Not to mention nerve-racking!) Patton meets Virgil’s gaze once more, relief etched into his features.

“You’d really be willing to do this?” Patton asks, “You don’t need to, you know.”

“I want to,” Virgil assures. “So, what do you say?” Patton thinks for a moment before that beautiful smile spreads across his face anew.

“That sounds perfect! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Patton says, standing up from his chair and throwing his arms around the emo, “You’re a lifesaver, Virgil!” Virgil stiffens in the awkward embrace, before accepting it to the best of his ability, trying not to freak out because Patton fucking Hart is hugging him! 

“Sure thing, Pat.” 

After that, arrangements are made. As it turns out, Patton isn’t the biggest fan of lying, hates it, honestly, which makes things a little trickier. But a compromise is come to that they met each other in the Coffee shop, which was true and had been on a few dates prior to the wedding. While that wasn’t technically true (God does Virgil wish it was) they do spend several days throughout the week hanging out and getting to know one another. And within those few days, Virgil’s infatuation with Patton inflames to a full-on crush which is just great.

Getting better acquainted with him, Virgil finds himself quickly getting used to Patton’s bubbly personality. He’s eager to pet every dog he comes into contact with, he enjoys baking quite a bit, though he’s not great at it, he’s adorably awkward in the best ways and he’s one of the kindest, most genuine people Virgil’s ever met. 

Usually, Virgil’s so well-guarded, but with Patton, he’s opening up quicker and more willingly than he has in such a long time. Patton listens with such compassion, and while Virgil’s really happy to have the other friends that he does, he’s never met someone as sweet as Patton is. It’s almost a little overwhelming at times, how caring he is. 

Before they know it, the day is upon them. Virgil gets a rental suite while trying not to swoon at Patton in his sky-blue tux, because really, how is it legal for him to look that cute?

Patton grabs his hand the moment they walk into the venue, sending Virgil a careful glance and squeezing his hand just slightly.

“This okay?” He whispers, ever the compassionate one, and Virgil nods.

“Yeah, ‘s okay.” Virgil can’t recall the last time someone held his hand, and he certainly can’t remember the number of times he’s imagined Patton holding his hand, prior to them even being friends. 

They take their seats, and the ceremony proceeds as usual. It’s beautiful, not that Virgil is paying too much attention, distracted by Patton’s nervous glances toward an older couple that must be his folks.

“Hey, are you alright?” Virgil asks quietly. Patton forces a smile, his eyes trained on his cousin and her fiancé.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m fine,” – he doesn’t sound fine –, “It’s just…” Patton trails off, his gaze flickering back to his parents for a moment. Virgil places his hand over Patton’s, who’s trembling is noticeable immediately. Carefully, Virgil runs his thumb over Patton’s knuckles in an even, circular motion. Luckily, it seems to calm Patton down to a degree, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Dalilah for the rest of the ceremony. 

However, almost immediately upon the afterparty starting, they’re cornered by Mr. and Mrs. Hart.

“Patton, you didn’t come and say hello,” his mother scolds. 

“Well, there were a lot of people,” Patton says nervously, “I figured we’d –.”

“Who’s this?” Patton’s father interrupts, gesturing to Virgil standing beside him.

“Virgil Storme,” Virgil says as calmly as he’s able, extending a hand for the father to shake. Mr. Hart’s hand remains rigid at his side. “I’m Patton’s boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Virgil can’t help but notice as anxiety wells up inside of him because, fuck, they’d never said they were going to call each other boyfriend’s, just that they’d been on a few dates, but Mr. Hart had such a smug look and he couldn’t help it. Despite his raging internal monologue, Patton plants a hand onto the small of his back, lips curling into a smile.

“That’s right,” Patton says, “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend.” 

The look of slackened shock on their faces would be priceless, weren’t it for the fact that these are still Patton’s parents, individuals who’ve had a direct influence on him throughout the entirety of his life.

“You’ve never – you’ve never mentioned a boyfriend before,” Patton’s mother says, glaring at her son. 

“And certainly not one who looks like some kind of a hooligan,” Mr. Hart grits, gesturing to Virgil’s dyed purple hair and pierced ears. Virgil intends to let the insult go, as it would only cause more trouble to confront it, but Patton has other ideas.

“Hey, you have no right to talk like that about Virgil,” Patton says, an edge to his voice that Virgil had yet to hear until now. Virgil grips for Patton’s hand, lacing their fingers together and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“How long has this been going on, sweetie?” Mrs. Hart chimes in, though it’s unclear if she’s referring to Virgil himself, or Patton’s sexuality as a whole. Either way, it’s a poor choice of words.

“My whole life, mom,” Patton spits, a venomous tone that would surely be louder if they weren’t at a wedding, “I’ve been gay my whole life, and nothing is going to change that.”

“But –.”

“But, nothing,” Patton interrupts boldly, “I’m not having this conversation, not again. If you can’t accept the fact that I’m never going to end up with ‘some nice girl,’ and that Virgil is absolutely wonderful, then we haven’t got anything to talk about.”

The words are a slap across Mr. and Mrs. Hart's face, who reel back in shock. 

“Patton, son –.”

“Goodbye,” Patton says, realizing it might very well be the last time he says it. He begins walking out of the reception and Virgil follows close behind. They make it outside, and luckily there’s no one else around.

“Pat… are you okay?” Virgil asks, reaching out to touch Patton’s shoulder.

“I’m done, Virgil. I’m done being gentle for them, I’m done pretending. It’s not worth it.” Pride wells in Virgil, even though he’s known Patton a little less than a week. 

“Well, then, I can tell you that was amazing! You kicked ass, Patton! Did you see the stupid look on their faces? They were so –.” Virgil is quickly interrupted when Patton’s lips collide against his, fingers gripping his lapels. Virgil needs a second to adjust and realize this is actually happening before he kisses back just as fervidly, his hands threading in Patton’s curls that are soft to the touch, just as he’d always imagined. 

“We’re – we’re not still pretending, right?” Virgil asks dumbly, and Patton shakes his head with a laugh, light, and airy.

“No, no of course not. Unless… you want it to be pretend?” 

“No! God, n-no! You’re amazing, Pat, you’re so kind, and soft and good and cute and… oh god, I’m rambling.” Patton giggles again, and Virgil decides it’s one of the best sounds he’s had the pleasure of hearing. 

“It’s cute.” 

“You’re cuter.”

“No, you are.”

The never-ending debacle of who is cuter is decidedly ended when their lips meet again, and Virgil’s positive this outweighs anything fantasy had to offer.

In the end, Patton hasn’t told a lie. Virgil is his boyfriend, even if they didn’t start the day out that way. The two walk back into the venue, hand-in-hand, watching as the Hart’s avert their eyes and Patton happily introduces Virgil to the family and friends who matter. 

Virgil’s never been so glad he walked into that coffee shop.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex 

@maryann-draws

Please let me know if you wanna be added to my general taglist! I’d be happy to add folks!

[shadowgeist-stars]

Vitam et Mortem: Divine Pride

A small gift for Pride Month before June ends. I probably should've come up with this earlier, but hey, I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Bridget had wanted to show Emily her new favorite part of June for years since they first began. After all the time they spent together for the last five or six centuries, she found it quite fun to introduce the otherwise reclusive Mother Nature to all the things she otherwise ignored among the mortals.

But this particular celebration wasn't just a joyous occasion for herself. Many lost spirits and even deities from all over the world rejoiced at the celebration of their own way of love and life.

From the gods of ancient Mesopotamia, to the far-flung rainbow serpents of Australia, to the hidden deities in China and Japan, to Bridget's own neighboring Loas and other divine friends in the Americas. The jubilee expressed by the immortals could only be matched, let alone surpassed, by that of the humans. Finally, all of the unfortunate people who lost themselves for the sake of their own hearts wouldn't have died in vain. All of the poor children close to that edge had something to look forward to.

"Come on, Emily, it's this way!" she called, leading her companion by the hand. "I promise you'll love it!"

Mother Nature chuckled, following the winged girl as quickly as she could. "This is the most excited I've seen you in the past few centuries. Have you met another holiday spirit?"

Bridget shrugged. "Not exactly. But I think you'll especially love it. It can't be much further now."

They stopped when they reached a crowd of people down the road.

Marching through the street was a parade of celebration. Flags of many bright color combinations littered the area. Some were blue, purple and pink. Some were pastel pink and blue and white. But a great many of the flags and all-encompassing banners -- and there were so, so many of them -- were all the colors of the rainbow.

"Bridget, my dear… what on Earth is this?"

Before her eyes, the rainbow painted itself over Bridget's otherwise black cloak. Strips of each color encircled her long cloak in luminous, vibrant hues. Shades of deep bright pink and fiery red orange sought out her shoulder cape, imitating one of the proudly-waving flags in the parade with black between each stripe. Emily soon learned exactly what it meant, as many couples in the parade embraced one another without fear or shame.

"It's a celebration of people like us," the redhead explained, no less than sheer jubilee on her face. "You once showed me how many animals are able to love in the same way we do. And according to the older gods, mortals who were the same way never had such a chance to be themselves since before the Dark Ages. Now that they have that chance again… isn't it beautiful?"

Emily did remember showing her all that. From birds of all kinds to various cats and other mammals to even insects and fish, and a whole lot more. The colors around her and the light in Bridget's eyes and all over her cloak… it truly was a sight to behold.

"It's wonderful," she replied simply. "Absolutely gorgeous. I've never seen anything like it."

They joined the parade like it was the most natural thing in the world. Following families and children greeted the two, as did many more immortals who began to appear. The children were laughing and dancing together with the other immortals, sporting their own flags.

"Lovely day for a parade, ladies," greeted a man in a multicolored tribal outfit framed with various flowers. "I'm certain I saw someone handing out Sapphic flags. Just watch for the usual, ahem… intruders."

"Thanks so much, Xochipilli," Bridget thanked the stranger. "I'm sure Emily would love that."

He smiled. "Never thought I'd see the day that the infamous Mother Nature would appear here. I'll tell the others; all of your Loa friends are bound to be nearby, and they'll love hearing about this."

Emily was confused by the names. "Who was he talking about?"

"My Voodoo-related associates," Bridget explained. "Many of them like both men and women, so they'll almost definitely be sporting pink-purple-and-blue flags like those over there. Though it takes a trained eye to know who’s who with the outfits they wear.

“Xochipilli is Aztec, and one of the few gods in that group with a decent amount of common sense. Back in his hayday, he was the god of games, the arts, and flowers, as well as the patron of people like a lot of the mortals here. Really nice guy, but I wish I could say the same about some of his friends.”

Emily chuckled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Are there others like the ones you mentioned?”

The redhead nodded. “Lots of others, all over the world. They’re all probably having a blast at parades on their home turf just like this one. Oh look, there’s the flag Xochi was talking about!”

The flag in question was actually quite darling. It had two pastel pink stripes around one that was white, with a pretty little violet directly in the center. The person beside the girl handing such flags out was handing out flowers of all kinds.

Bridget went for the flower person, taking a violet before flying up to plant it above Emily’s ear, adding on a kiss on the cheek.

The swell of warmth in her chest from the gesture caused the violet to spread into a crown on her head.

The Grim Reaper giggled. “Now it looks even prettier. It suits you!”

Emily sighed at her reaction, but eventually couldn’t help a smile. At least until she noticed the white-robed and white-winged people hovering above a different crowd. They glared at the celebration as they stood guard over the yelling people holding some… rather rude signs.

Her beloved noticed her expression. “What’s wrong?” Bridget followed her gaze, lifting off the ground a little for a better view.

Angels. And a whole lot of their own downline.

“Oh, for the love of vultures…” she muttered under her breath as she pulled her scythe out of her shadow. “Ignore them, Em. They should know by now that they can’t do much of anything without getting people upset.”

“Is that… normal of them?” asked the dark-haired woman.

“Very,” the redhead replied with a sigh, leading Emily away from the protestors. “Their minions love to say that living the way we do isn’t natural and that it’s corrupting their children. All because they like to listen to the one who commands those angels. We just call them the usual intruders. I think I’ve already told you how troublesome they are to my fellow death spirits.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” She noticed how the blade of Bridget’s scythe shined with iridescent colors. “Hm, even your weapon appears to have gotten into the spirit of the celebration.”

“There’s a reason for that, actually.” With a snap of her fingers, Bridget unveiled a slew of visiting wandering souls in the broad daylight. So many of them floated around in groups, like the other immortals in the parade had called them here. Many bore dark scars that only occurred among souls who sought their own destruction in life. “These are all of the people in just this area who lived the same way as all of these mortals, in worlds that didn’t allow them, or hearts that no longer wanted to beat.”

Emily gazed upon each spirit, seeing the joy and peace on each and every spectral face in the procession. “This is far more than the joy of the living... it’s also a comfort for the dead.”

Bridget could see the angels daringly lean towards the ghosts from above their followers, and firmly tapped her scythe against the ground. All of the ghosts turned their attention to the Reaper, and to those she glared at. The protesters faltered, as if perhaps they had seen her standing there. Either way, they knew better than to test an emissary of death with her albeit passive army, so she’d count that much as a win. So did the ghosts, who peacefully returned to their own mingling.

Fingers found their way into soft, owlish feathers. “Where did you learn that trick?”

Bridget’s smile returned with a chuckle. “The Valkyries have shown me how they command their soldiers a few times. Angels are a pretty popular overarching reason as to why the ghosts around here have perished. It's just a matter of setting off the alarm. They know better than to trust what killed them."

A couple of the children seemed more than a bit intimidated by the parade's protesters, regardless of their dropping momentum. "Come with me, Em. Forget the angels and their little friends. This is a time for celebration."

Mother Nature was quite willing to comply, her leaf-bearing winds gently guiding the children away from the scary people like large, caring hands. As they went on with the parade, the two eventually grew more cheerful again. More immortals dropped by to meet them, such as Nibo, one of the Loas Bridget mentioned earlier; Oua Oua, a higher-ranking Loa who led the children, also said hello. Several "Voodoo" figures made appearances, really, and all of them offered nothing but coos and congratulations.

It certainly made it a far more lively experience than Burning Man, where they usually wandered about largely unseen. But oddly enough, it wasn't quite unpleasant. Emily enjoyed meeting so many wonderful divine friends. Seeing Bridget's multicolored stripes grow brighter, and her hair shining in the sun like fire, against eyes so pale silver in the daylight they almost looked pure white, was a simply mesmerizing experience.

Near the end of the parade, Emily had discovered a work of art made entirely from flowers; an entire wall of words shaped with roses of every color. Red, orange, yellow, green, even blue and purple. She used her power to grow out a bouquet of separate lavender roses, with a little help from Xochipilli. After which she gently wove each flower into Bridget's lovely wings and hair, pale and beautiful against her bright red locks and dark gold feathers. Bridget was delighted at the gift; something she knew Emily would most certainly do.

"Now you look even prettier,” she said warmly, parroting the reaper's words. “It suits you.”

The look she got in response was so full of affection… Emily could feel it taking something else from her chest aside from her breath. Bridget floated to her eye level, cupping the taller spirit's face between her hands.

"I think you deserve a thank-you for it."

With that, she leaned in for a kiss.

Emily’s heart filled with a familiar, welcoming fire at the soft and warm touch of Bridget’s lips, yet entirely new and exciting. A wild and joyful tune, yet sung in the tone of a lullaby. Miniature earthquakes rattled through her body, and she felt like she was floating. Her hands started flexing and lifting up on instinct, until they dug into the soft down between the reaper’s shoulders, pulling her closer. The flower-decorated wings swung low, the ends of the joints resting on her sides.

A moment meant to last forever.

“Ah, young love. Truly a beautiful thing.”

“It’s like something straight out of those romantic fairy tales.”

The two voices startled the two from their reverie. Bridget sank to the ground with a face as red as her hair; given the fiery heat that went from her heart to her face, Emily probably wasn’t much better.

“Lundy! Limba! You ruined the moment!” scolded Èrzulie Dantòr, batting the two men away with dark-skinned hands. “Out, out, and away, boys, before you ruin their mood any more! Shoo!”

Bridget giggled at the sight of the Loas. “I take it you enjoyed that, Emily?”

Mother Nature cleared her throat, smiling down at her sheepishly. “I suppose I did. Though I… can’t say I expected to… Will there be other parades like this in the future?”

“Of course!” She took her hand as they prepared to return to the realm they shared. “It’s an entire month out of every year that celebrations just like this will occur. Why? Do you want to go to another one?”

Emily chuckled, mustering the courage to kiss the top of her head. “Perhaps…”

To see such colors like those still lingering on the Grim Reaper’s cloak… To feel such childlike glee she hadn’t experienced in millennia… Mother Nature could hardly wait for the next adventure outside of her fog.

[hank-mcdankblade]

I Know A Bottom When I See One Princess  (Part 4)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary

Chapter 1: You and Dean have been pals for as long as you can remember, practically raised together. Are things still the same as you remembered when you reconnect with him after a couple years apart? Well there is one thing you see differently and you’re about to call him out on it.

Chapter 2:  After you flirt back with Dean you start to rethink all of your life choices. Why did you flirt back instead of making fun of him? God it would be so much easier if you were just a genderless blob. Hopefully the new supernatural case a friend of your mom’s gives you will distract you from all this romance mumbo jumbo.

Chapter 3: You and Dean both start to realize your feelings are not what you both originally anticipated them to be. If only you two could actually talk like adults instead of bantering like childish 8 year olds. The case picks up when you see a certain someone’s name over every case, a certain boomer’s name.

Chapter 4: You and Dean do some sleuthing into Chrissy’s apparent death. After learning the truth your trip to Wendy’s/Jack in the Box gets interrupted by Chief douchebag. Rick takes the three of you on a nice drive to the mountains to introduce you to his daughter.

Word Count: 11,629 (R.I.P. my dudes)

Warnings: Swearing, Gore, Violence, Angst.

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        The sun rose softly with hues of orange gracing the sky. No one should be up this early, early enough for the Matrix to glitch out where a road should’ve been.  Ok it was like 9am and you both were being grumby children. Regardless, both you and Dean were suited up for the job today as fake reporters to go talk to that Chrissy girl. With your expert sleuthing, or rather just looking through the phone book, you found her address quite easily. Dean always wore his tried and true black suit. Other than his car, it was the only thing he actually invested money in. Meanwhile you tried something different today with a dark burgundy one. The last time you two had down time you made a trip to a fancy mall and got it. Dean was very close to convincing you to buying a gamecube, it was either the gamecube or the suit. One of you wasn’t very happy with the outcome of that shopping day, so he pouted for the entirety of the trip dreaming of playing Super Monkey Ball 2. But according to Dean you looked like Lois Lane in that suit so it all works out.

        Despite the grisly murders that happened here, the town had a nice spot. The temperature was warm but chill enough for a breeze, with snow capped mountains hanging in the background creating the perfect picturesque scene for a post card. The air was fresh and crisp and pinched your cheeks awake. After around fifteen minutes of driving, you pulled up onto a hectic scene. Some curious neighbors waited by their windows to catch a glimpse of the chaos. 

        “What the hell?” You muttered as you twisted yourself in your seat to get a better look. There were three cop cars, an ambulance, and a team of forensics surrounding Chrissy Hamilton’s house. The lawn was practically ruined with how many people had stomped all over it. Some employees were walking in and out of the house while others stayed still in one spot. Two beat cops were standing near their car talking amongst themselves. Dean parked the car and the two of you started towards Chrissy’s house. The chatter grew louder with each step.

        “Hey what happened here?” Dean nodded towards the door, quickly flashing his identification along with you to the authorities. The two beat cops standing in front of the driver’s side of the cop car turned to look at you both. They stared intensely at your identification before answering. It was above their pay grade to care about the hierarchy of information in the police department to question if you two were real. 

        “There was an accident here, Ms. Hamilton fell down her stairs and seemed to have broken her neck from impact.” The taller one explained. He looked like he was fresh out of the academy, hands situated onto his belt. More employees were running around the scene when in the background a familiar face caught your attention. Walking out of Chrissy’s house was none other than Rick Sullivan, Chief of Douchebags. His eyes darted everywhere and sweat poured out of his forehead like a really gross faucet. There would be no saving of his uniform in the washer, with how much sweat he produced he’d need to have it dry cleaned….You nudged Dean with your elbow, but his attention to the beat cops wouldn’t let up. As Rick Sullivan started walking towards his car you fit yourself in front of the two cops using them as shade. You subtly pulled Dean with you, leaning against the cool metal of the car door. You tried your best to look casual as your cover was being threatened. 

        “So it was an accident?” Dean asked. The two beat cops nodded. 

        “She could have tripped on something most likely, but the coroner will have an autopsy for us by the end of the day.” A click of a door sounded and Chief Sullivan was in his car. The pavement crunched under his tires as he backed out. Your eyes flitted to his position and yours, if he drove down in this direction he would see both your faces clear as day. 

        Clearing your throat as a transition, you clicked your heels against the road and walked around pretending to look at the house before tugging on Dean’s sleeve to follow you. “So did she live with family or alone?” Dean could tell you were antsy about something but couldn’t tell what it was. He followed your movements and turned his back to the house and faced the two cops again. 

        “She lived alone, has for years so it’s no wonder the accident happened.” The shorter one chimed in. He spoke of her as if the town knew who she was, like a stray cat. 

        “Who discovered the body if she lived alone?” Dean scribbled down all the info into a little notebook he bought for the investigation. He would never admit it, but he thoroughly enjoyed getting into a full costume. 

        “Chief Sullivan did.” Oh the one name you were hoping you wouldn’t hear. 

        “What made him go into the house?” You pushed further.

        “Not sure, just said he wanted to talk to her about the newspaper article in The Denver Times and he found her like that.” Something clicked in your mind and things were starting to make sense. 

        “Hmm, ok well thank you. If we have any more questions then we’ll come find you.” Your hollow intentions were spoken through a fake smile. Your hand grasped Dean’s jacket once more and spun him towards the impala. Your partner eyed you curiously.

        “Hey what’s up? I had more questions for them…” Dean pouted sticking his journalist’s notepad into his pocket. 

        “Rick Sullivan came out of that house, and he looked very nervous. He’s definitely more involved in this than anyone is letting on.” You stated as the two of you settled into the car to discuss more theories. 

        For the next couple of hours you and Dean had to keep a low profile while things settled down. There was no use in trying to sneak into that house when Chief Sullivan could hear about it from one of his lackeys crawling all over the premises, so you’d have to try after hours.

        Once the clock struck five you rolled up to the police department. It wasn’t the hive of action that you believed it would be, so there would less people to lie to and ask questions. Hopefully the Prince of A-Holes was at home chugging a beer and complaining about liberals. With the confident flash of a fake badge. and a smile you two were led to the coroner’s office with ease. If there was one thing you two learned about faking the identity of feds, it was act like you belong there and nobody will question you.

        There was only one person on staff. He looked up from a desk pushing his black hair out of his face and put his glasses down. “Can I help you?” A soft British accent curved the syllables of his sentence. 

        “Yes, Ms. Hamilton’s family hired us as private investigators.” With a change of I.D. both you and Dean were sporting P.I. badges and showed the nice man who were pretending to be this week. “We’d like to see the autopsy report.”

        “Of course,” The tall British man stood up and walked to the table Ms. Hamilton’s body was lying. He picked up a clipboard attached to the table and handed it to you. Dean came around and looked over your shoulder. 

Accidental Death Chrissy Hamilton contracted an infection in a cut from the bear attack in Grand Mesa National Forest.  The infection caused her to experience dizzy spells and fatigue resulting in her falling down the stairs and breaking her neck.

        Something in your gut constricted at this conclusion. The air in the room shifted as your disappointment grew stronger. “You’re sure that this is right?” You looked up from the report to see the young British man fidgeting in his spot. 

        “I wasn’t the one who did the report, I’m….still an intern.” The intern wrung his hands behind his back and adjusted his glasses again. Dean’s eyes were watching him intently, this boy was lying. He knew the look of a guilty man from anywhere.

        “But, did you take a peak for yourself?” Dean said taking a step closer to the intern. 

        “Well….yes, but only because I thought I was supposed to! Chief Sullivan had one of his guys do the report, but I don’t think it’s right.” The intern went back over to his desk and sifted through some papers to find one hidden deep in a folder, red pen marks all over it. 

        “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna report you. We’re just looking for the truth like you.” Dean spoke softly as he took the new report from the intern. 

Blunt Force Trauma 

There is an unexplained gash in the back of the woman’s head and bruises on her neck that mimic the marks of strangulation. 

The mark on her head would be from a hard object.

The neck breaking was done post mortem suggesting murder.

        “I fucking knew it.” You muttered under your breath looking over the new report, rereading it to make sure your eyes weren’t lying to you. You shook your head and paced trying to put everything together. Dean knew you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, so he quickly took a picture of the report with his phone and gave it back to the intern.

        “Thank you for your help, we’ll be on our way now.” Dean flashed a smile and got your attention to leave. Your mind was fuzzy as you blindly followed your partner to the car. With all this evidence piling up against Chief Sullivan there was no possible way he wasn’t involved you just had to figure out why. 

        The next stop you two had on your errand list was to stop by Chrissy’s house to check the scene out for yourself. If Chief Sullivan had one of ‘his guys’ do the autopsy report, he most likely had one of ‘his guys’ inspect the house too. Neither of you trusted that man, so here you were parked three blocks away from the victim’s house dressed in dark clothes to match the night setting.

        Dean made quick work of the lock. He got pretty good after years of experience and many close calls of getting caught my the neighbors. “You impressed yet?” Dean smirked at you and opened the door.

        “Are you gonna say this every time we break in somewhere?”

        “Until it works, yes.” You walked through the threshold into the empty dust cave that was Chrissy’s house. 

        “Jesus Christ, I feel like I could get lung cancer in this house…” You swatted some dust particles away floating in the air. The inner decor suggested that four clumsy grandmas lived here. These rugs probably belonged to Jesus’s disciples, and light fixtures from the Vanderbilt age. 

        “Where should we start first?” Dean asked setting the bag of goodies on the floor. He opened it up and handed you a flashlight and a spray bottle filled with luminol. 

        “I’ll take the kitchen fixtures and you start on the stairs?” You suggested. Dean nodded and headed towards the closest railing. The only light illuminating this dark museum of antiquities was your phone flashlights put on a low setting. Dean started from the bottom of the stairs and worked his way up. There were a few spots that glowed from the chemical reacting with the cleaned up blood. Unfortunately Dean didn’t find a mosaic of glowing lights, but rather a scarce Jackson Pollock painting. 

        In the kitchen you were fairing much better. You started with the appliances like the fridge and dish washer but came up with nothing. Lights started to shine when you hit the kitchen table. “Dean, I got something!” Dean followed your voice and saw a bright blue glow on the table, and what do you know it fit the same shape as the gash on the victim’s head. 

        “So what’s the plan now? Go to the chief’s house and bust him?” Dean leaned against the kitchen table and crossed his arms. You gathered your supplies and pulled out a fresh wash cloth. 

        “No, we don’t have enough evidence. The most we can do is go after the monster itself and deal with him afterwards. Hopefully get him to confess.” As much as it angered you that this guy was probably going to get away, you needed to be sure that he was the one who hurt Chrissy. After all, he might just be some crotchety baby boomer which wouldn’t be news to you. You handed Dean a wash cloth and got to cleaning up after yourself until the house was left exactly as you entered it. 

        The walk back to the car was quiet. You both had a lot on your mind and a lot of puzzle pieces to fit together. The only thing left you both needed to do was get the biggest order of fries and absolutely destroy them before passing out. With a gentle crank, the impala was alive.

        “So, what’re you thinking? Jack in a Box or Wendy’s?” Dean asked pulling onto one of the main roads. The only light came from the posts on either side of the street, and a couple of porch lights from the quiet little neighborhood. The stars shined brightly away from the big city. 

        “I’m always a slut for Wendy’s.” Your words were cut short by the flashing of red and blue lights coming from every direction. Dean quickly pulled over confused as to what could possibly have warranted this action from the police. He was barely speeding and all of his head lights were still working. Nonetheless he stopped the car.

        “Step out of the car with your hands in the air!” A deep masculine voice shouted. Fear crept up your throat as you complied. It wasn’t like you couldn’t take these cops, a measly bullet wouldn’t put you down forever. But you couldn’t risk Dean’s life. Unlike you, he was human and he could get killed a lot easier than you. For now you would play nice, but the second Dean was safe they would be turned into a bloody mess. The bright flashlights distorted your vision. Your eyes could only see the miniature suns they created. The faces behind them were a mystery but the voices were familiar.

        “Officers what seems to be the problem?” They didn’t answer Dean’s question and opted to continue with the arrest. 

        “Hey! Watch it.” Hands grabbed at you and put your arms behind your back. A harsh push had you pinned up against the car while sir grabs a lot bound you with cuffs. You look across to see Dean serving the same fate. Two other cops opened the impala’s doors and started rummaging through it. 

        “You can’t do that without a warrant!” A hot anger was starting to burn a hole in Dean’s chest to see them handling his baby like this. 

        “All we need is probable cause.” That voice….was more familiar than the others. Out came Chief Sullivan, who seemed very pleased with himself. He looked to Dean, whose face was turning a new shade of red. 

        “And what probable cause is that? Were my hub caps too shiny? Maybe I was playing my devil’s rock music too loud for ya??” 

        “No maybe he’s just mad because he saw our liberal bumper stickers, and wanted to show us what his America is all about right? Show us some good old fashioned hospitality from the 1800s when you were just a young lad?”

        “(Y/N), that’s very uneducated of you to say. The colonizers came over to America in the 1400s.” 

        “Oh you’re right how stupid of me to say, hey what was Christopher Columbus like? A prick? I bet y’all got along. Probably had a lot of time to bond while killing indigenous people and taking their land.” Rick Sullivan swore the lord was testing him today. He unfolded two pieces of paper and on them were photos of you and Dean from the last time you got arrested. 

        “Looked up your license plates and found some very interesting information on you two.”

        “Was it that I was the only male cheerleader in my high-school? It’s actually very good for your health.”

        “No it might be my arrest record from when I killed the president.”

        “Oh shit I forgot about that!” 

        “Enough!” Dean and you looked at each other trying desperately not to bust out laughing. “Found that you two have a long record of credit card scams, identity theft, and impersonating the authorities. Bet we’ll find something real interesting in your car.” One of the cops popped out and was holding two black wallets. 

        “Chief I’ve got something.” You felt a sinking sensation in your chest start to form, this was going to be your whole night then.… Sullivan opened up the wallets and smirked to himself.

        “Well would you look at that, Private Investigator badges. Funny, I didn’t find your registration in the system. Put them in the back of my car.” The Chief looked on you both with a smug smile. Normally this situation would have had worried you to the point of your hair graying. But at this point you and Dean had been arrested a couple times before and knew that lying low and sneaking out of the holding cell was a better bet than assaulting as many cops as you could, as much as you and Dean loved to do so. The two deputies walked you both to Chief Sullivan’s car and threw you in the backseat. The plastic vinyl of the interior was cramped, forcing you to fold in on yourself just a tad to fit. The yellow police headlights illuminated Rick as he talked to the two deputies. 

        “Do you think the dinky place they’re sending us to is gonna have a bathroom this time?” Dean quipped. You scoffed, shaking your head thinking of the last place in Louisiana that got the drop on you. Each time you had to use the restroom, one of the deputies had to go through the long process of making sure Dean was up against the wall to prevent escape, then unlock the door whose key was on a literal ring with at least 13 other keys that they had to go through one by one each time, then finally escort you to the restroom. 

        “For our sakes I hope so cause I think I downed at least 5 red bulls, I’m sure this place will be just as small town classic as the last one. Break out at night?” Dean nodded to you. This was just one of your many go to plans that you kept in your back pocket. Luckily with your strength, tearing apart metal bars wasn’t hard and made escaping quite simple since these places usually didn’t even invest in a security system claiming that they could do it themselves. The soft slam of the driver’s car door brought your attention forward. 

        “Hey can we stop at Wendy’s? We haven’t had dinner yet.” Rick glared at you and chose to bring the car to leave with a hum instead of dignifying your question with an answer. The car pulled onto the road smoothly.

        “No, I’ve got a real special place for you two.” The edge of his tone held something beneath the surface of the water that pricked your stomach. Your eyes scanned over Rick, looking for any tell that would hint at what his intentions were. Whatever this old man had up his sleeve you were sure you could take it. If you survived eating gas station sushi, nothing could kill you now. 

        “Oh? Could it possibly be that fancy meat place Samba downtown? Heard they got Brazilian meats and I’m all about that.” Dean’s comment did nothing to change Rick’s expression. It pricked at your stomach harder. You shared another look with Dean and sat back into your seat expecting a long ride. Your gut told you to stay put. Your vocal chords itched to speak to Dean, just to whisper to him about what his thoughts on the situation were. But your brain was in control and knew better than to open your mouth when your warden was less than a foot away from you, so you stayed quiet waiting for the answers to your questions. 

        The two of you hadn’t spent too much time in Colorado, but you knew the layout enough to see that the Chief was heading out of town. The bright lights of the city were replaced with the lights of the stars and the moon. Headlights were few and far between and you were greeted by more elk than people. Mountains rose from the ground and blocked the outside world, almost creating a dome over the land. The scenery could no longer hold your attention and the itch in your vocal chords finally became too irritating to ignore any longer. 

        “So what’s with your obsession about bear attacks?” From the rearview mirror you could see a flash of anger in Rick’s face as his mouth twitched downwards. If it was going to be a long drive, you may as well get what you could out of it. At least this way you could possibly get some answers and annoy him along the way. 

        “No obsession, just doing my civic duties as a police officer.” Rick’s voice was low and and quiet. He was restraining himself greatly, veins starting to pop in his neck and face changing to a new shade of red. His eyes continued to stare at the road. 

        “Do you really believe that these are bear attacks?” Dean piped up leaning to the side to catch a better glimpse at the Chief’s face. 

        “There’s no evidence to prove otherwise.” Rick quipped, short and to the point. It sounded almost comfortably rehearsed. The man most likely testified in court more times than you could count. 

        “Now I think we both know that that’s not true.” 

        “And what are you proposing?” 

         Without missing a beat you stepped back in. “Maybe that you’re a little more involved with these disappearances than you’d like to admit.” You leaned forward, the temple of your head touching the back of the passenger seat. Rick smirked to himself, as if he’d told a joke in his head. Suddenly that all knowing attitude came back to him, like flipping a switch. 

        “If only you knew what really lived in these woods, you wouldn’t be putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Rick’s tension seemed to lift from his shoulders with every word he spoke. Dean let out a breathy laugh and rolled his eyes. If you had a dollar for every time you heard that sentence, the two of you could buy an entire Dance Dance Revolution Machine that you had wanted when you were kids. 

        “Oh really? Enlighten me then.” Dean requested with a sarcastically inquisitive expression. His shoulders were tense and hunched slightly as he leaned in more. The atmosphere of the tiny cop car was suffocating. It felt like every body in the car was taking up more space than necessary. Rick let his eyes be taken from the road just for a second to look back at Dean with a twinkle in his eye. 

        “You kids ever hear of The Grand Mesa Curse?”

        You sighed. “Yes, extensively actually.” You blinked blankly at him. 

        “There’s evil that lurks in these woods, six feet tall and claws. A wendigo. Know what that is?” Rick paused for a moment at his own rhetorical question. “It’s a creature that used to be human, but changed once they resorted to cannibalism. It was thought that the man who consumed human flesh would absorb its power. Used to think all of this talk was nonsense…until I saw her.” You scrunched your brows together and sat back into your seat, piecing things together.

        His daughter was on a camping trip and died.

        He always had a hand in all the bear attack cases that happened at a specific time of year. 

        He was the one who found Chrissy’s body.

        “Your daughter…” You muttered. Rick shook his head slightly banishing the awful memories from behind his eyes. The image of his now six foot three daughter, her skin stretched beyond repair over protruding bones with eyes that held no recognition for her father. He remembered in great detail the first night he saw her, barely got out alive. Rick would never get the scent of human flesh out of his nose, the sight of those kids’ blood over her hands and face. Yet somehow even after seeing all those horrible displays of violence he still loved her and protected her. If he kept covering her tracks, at some point things would go back to normal. 

        “She’ll get better, if I keep feeding her then eventually she’ll be fine.” From the sound of it, even Rick didn’t believe what he was saying. But he wanted to. Desperately so.

        “You know she won’t-”

        “SHE WILL!” Rick hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand as he barked. He had already come so far, he wasn’t about to let two little children take away what little family he had left. There was still a little bit of hope left if he kept lying to himself and everyone else. “And neither you two or that Chrissy girl will ruin this for me.”

        A sour feeling was starting to settle in your stomach. It was almost sweet how much work he was putting into keeping his daughter safe. Normally you would feel for a parent losing their child, but unfortunately in his situation, Rick already lost his daughter. Seeing a monster wear his daughter’s face destroyed any chance for him to accept that there was no trace of her left in that gaunt body. He failed her in this life that winter years ago, he refused to fail her ever again. 

        As you traveled further into the mountains, snow started to accumulate on the windshield. The mountains had their own world. The night was pitch black and snow more piercing compared to the environment in the suburbs. Even the trees seemed to curl out like a hand waiting to grab unsuspecting travelers. 

        Something started to feel off. You fidgeted in your seat trying to find a comfortable spot to no avail. It felt like a lightbulb softly pushing at the back of your head, warming the crown of your hair and shooting down your spine and all throughout your bones. This feeling grew stronger as the Chief continued to drive. You grimaced as the lightbulb dug further into your brain aiming for the center of it. You knew this feeling all too well, your biological radar spotted a monster nearby and they were getting close. This one felt strong. The car stopped making your back softly hit the back of the seat. 

        Outside the safe haven of the car you couldn’t see five feet away from you without the blank canvas of snow distorting your vision. The wind pushed the car back and forth every couple of seconds ever so slightly, as if you were still on the road. Rick pulled the collar of his jacket up and braced himself. He opened his door and stepped outside. 

        “What the fuck do we do?” You sputtered out to Dean, eyes wider than usual.

        “Well I assume we’re about to meet his daughter, so my only suggestion is to not get eaten.” Dean said testing the strength of the handcuffs around his wrists. 

        “Thank you for that Captain Obvious.” 

        “You’re Welcome Lieutenant Sarcasm.” 

        Before you had a chance to respond, the chief opened up the door with a gun pointed at Dean’s face. “Let’s make this easy why don’t we? Get out of the car. We’re gonna do this one at a time.” Dean took in a shaky breath and slowly stepped out of the car, leaving you alone in the back seat. He shut the door with his foot and got his balance back in the snow. Rick nodded his head to the side signaling Dean to keep walking. The snow crunched under his boots and gathered in between the grooves of his shoes. His neck was exposed to the cutting temperature, the wind only served to slice his skin deeper. Regardless, he marched onwards until an opening in the mountain showed itself. There were signs warning against entering the tunnel, explaining that the cave could collapse or that it’d been dangerous for decades to go inside. The wooden blockade had been damaged and eaten away by weather and insects over the years. It looked barely strong enough to be holding itself up.

         The threshold was uninviting, light not escaping the cavernous mouth creating a shield of darkness. Dean blindly walked forwards, carefully stepping over the bumps and grooves of the floor. An orange glow started to illuminate the walls, exposing the roots and rock in the walls. “What do you think your daughter would think of you sacrificing people to her?” Dean spoke up. This was a last ditch effort. If he wasn’t able to talk Rick out of this he wasn’t sure what other option he had. Last time he went up against a wendigo he barely got out alive, and that was with equipment. He had nothing this time around, and to make matters worse his hands were bound. 

        In Dean’s head about 18 tabs were open and at least one of them was playing music but he couldn’t tell which it was. He was flipping through all his plans A through Z but most of them depended on either you coming in at the last second, or for Rick to be a complete bumbling idiot and easy to fight even while handcuffed. Dean’s stomach tightened at his next thought.

         The thought that he might not actually make it out of this one. Of course his brained tricked him into believing that this would play out like a B-list action movie where everything would turn out perfect and everyone would be saved. His body felt manic, electric. This feeling was sadly familiar to him.

        Rick stayed silent for a moment and slowed his pace to use more energy to think. “Lydia would find a way to understand.” 

        Dean scoffed. “Yeah cause the ends justifies the means doesn’t it Machiavelli?” Rick pressed the gun into Dean’s back.

        “Just keep walking.” 

~~~~~~

        You watched as Rick lead Dean away. Your body slowly shifted into the seat your partner had recently occupied, his heat still captured in the fake leather. The angle of the window did you no favors to see them, the snow not helping either. The cold glass chilled the first layer of the skin on your cheek. Once they disappeared from sight you leaned back into your seat and stared at the metal around your wrists. You took a big breath into your lungs and pulled back and away with your elbows. The sheer force of your strength ripped the chain like day old bread, the ends of the chain that broke sharpened to a point. 

        You put the pad of your thumb on the hinge of the handcuff and pushed until it popped under the pressure and slit in half, releasing your hand then doing the same to the other. The metal didn’t do much to the skin of your wrists save for mild redness. You made some circles with your hands before moving to the next task at hand, the locked car door. The posture of your body and processes of your mind gave into the demon within. The look in your eyes and crack of your knuckles was that of a skilled hunter, a predator coming to defend their territory. In moments like these it was easier to let the Slayer side of you take over, hand her the reigns and guide you through this. 

        In order to get the job done you had to put everything aside. Nothing mattered except getting the mission completed. Thoughts of your mother, your childhood, Sam, or even Dean, could trip you up and possibly effect your reflexes or technique. 

        Your emotional shield hardened, ridding your thoughts of the possibility of Dean getting eaten or hurt.

        You positioned yourself to face the passenger door in the backseat, arms stabilizing you behind and knees bent. Your feet were pressed against the handle of the door. With a grunt you mustered up all the pent up anger that boiled within and kicked it. The door flung open, the frigid temperature rushed into the back seat. You sped walked to the trunk of the car and popped it, pulling your hair out of your face as the wind whipped it around. The contents within were a first aid kit, jumper cables, a bullet proof vest, a shotgun, a couple of road flares, spare handcuff keys, and a pair of bolt cutters. You fastened the bullet proof vest onto your chest, stuck the road flares and extra set of keys into your pocket and picked up the shotgun. It wasn’t much, but it would do. Your eyes landed on the opening that Dean disappeared into and walked towards it.

         It was business time, and there was one motherfucker you still had to take care of.

~~~~~~

        The air of the cave was thick with moisture and made Dean’s clothes stick to his skin. Little drips of water and pebbles moving in the background made his ears perk up. Every little sound made him pull his arms closer to himself and tense up. Those tiny sounds could go unheard and would be the difference between life and death if they were Lydia. He hadn’t seen any signs of her existence yet, but he was sure that was about to change soon. The longer he could prolong that moment the better. 

        Rick silently lead him deeper through the mountain’s tunnels, taking lefts and rights at random intervals it felt. Dean tried his best to create the maze in his head, he wouldn’t be able to use landmarks since every part of the cave was identical. Every couple of feet another low powered light bulb was strung from the sides of the cave wall. There was a sliver of darkness between each set of lightbulbs. As they continued walking, Rick’s footsteps slowed even more until he stopped altogether. Dean turned around waiting to see his next move. They were in a more hollow part of the mountain now, somewhere near the edge of it Dean guessed from the moonlight that peaked out from the cracks in the ceiling. The light shined down and poured into the cavernous drop to his left. Rocks created the path in front of them, the wall of the cave gave little space to walk as close as it was to the drop off. 

        “Ok so what now?” Dean looked around.

        “Nothing, for you at least.” Rick spoke putting his gun back in its holster. He stepped forwards and grabbed Dean by the sleeves of his shirt. In the flurry of motion Dean lost his balance, moving at the whim of Rick’s motion. His feet flew over the ledge of the drop as Rick flung him down into the cavern. With a grunt Dean landed on his back on the hard ground. It felt like all the air was sucked out of his lungs. Three different vertebrae throbbed in sync with his heartbeat. From the scrape of the ground the hunter already knew that he was bleeding in several locations. He took a second to lay there in agony glaring up at Rick as he walked away.

        “Have fun chatting with Lydia, I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about.” His voice echoed with a smile. 

        “Bastard…” Dean’s attention was taken away from the pain in his upper back, but rather spread to all the muscles connected to his spine as he attempted to get up. Every tiny movement from his arms sent shocks of pain through his muscle fibers straight to his spine. He grit his teeth as he rolled over to his side, hand coming over to brace himself. The tiny rocks on the cave floor embedding themselves into his hand meant nothing to him. The room spun around and shook Dean’s head around. “Fuck…”

~~~~~~

         Your eyes scanned every new inch of cave you took in at a rapid pace with laser precision. Anger and rage heated up your skin. You walked with heavier determined footsteps, strutting your way into a new disaster. The change in your demeanor surged your forward. Upon hearing movement up ahead you dipped into a crevice in the cave wall, squishing your body between rocks awkwardly that dug into your skin and poked at your bones. A memory surfaced like a vision from your childhood of playing hide and seek with Sam and Dean. 

        Footsteps, those of boots, drew nearer. Your eyes stuck to one part of the wall until a pair of khaki pants walked right past you. They followed Rick as he walked blissfully unaware of his surroundings towards the opening of the mountain. A list of techniques you could use to snap his neck came to mind, your fingers itched to wrap around his throat. Your mother would be so proud to know that you actually paid attention to her lessons if she felt human emotion. 

        Once the footsteps faded into the distance you dislodged yourself from the rocks in the wall and brushed off any residue. The cold air snuck between the layers of your clothing sparking a shiver down your back. You crept on further, silencing your feet and breathing deep into your chest. A shuffle below you caught your attention. You crouched closer to the ground and kept your body close to the wall to get a better look at the culprit. The minute you saw a flash of green flannel you stood up.

        “Dean!” Your knees hit the edge of the drop off hard making small abrasions in your jeans and skin, but you didn’t care. “Are you ok?” The slayer mask was forcibly ripped off of your face. The heated rage in your skin was replaced with an icy shake. You kneeled to the ground and peered over steep drop. The little drop off looked like a ravine with Dean at the bottom just waiting for a rock slide to bury him.

        “Yeah…Chief of Douchebags pushed me over. Think his daughter is down here.” Dean limped over to the drop, grimacing as he felt his muscles move. You dug your knees into the rock as much as you could, the fabric of your pants tore open by a sliver. The palm’s of your hands slid down the drop, stretching down as far as you could to grab onto Dean. Dirt caked your skin and was ground into the grooves of your hands. God you were almost there, you elongated your back to try and give yourself some more length. Quick short breaths made your chest rise and fall with each burst. Your lips were parted, the walls protecting your true feelings were open and released a high pitched quiet whimper. Dean reached as well, his boots pushed back gravel and dirt. His shirt caught on some of the rocks poking out as he tried to get closer, but your fingertips had about twelve inches between them. 

        “Shit…I don’t think I can get you out. Can you climb out?” You sighed frustratedly retracting your hand. Dean shook his head taking a step back. He stared up at you into your eyes that sparkled with sadness. You were deep in the sky with the distance between you two. It was like he was reaching to touch a star, an untouchable ethereal being who no one deserved to be in the presence of. 

        “No, I can’t get a good grip on any of the rocks…” Your heart and brain were battling over what to do. Your heart wrenched at the thought of being separated from Dean in such a situation. How could he possibly fight against an entire wendigo, opposed to half of one…, with no equipment or help? The thought of leaving these caves alone made tears prick at your eyes. Dean wasn’t faring any better. Looking up at you made him feel helpless. A part of him was more disappointed in himself than upset about the situation itself. More times than he’d like, he felt like the Daphne.

          “Maybe there’s another opening we can meet up at.” You spoke, undoing the velcro of the bullet proof vest and tossing it down to Dean, along with the road flare, shotgun, and extra set of keys. As bleak as everything seemed, he was grateful to as least have some protection against the situation you two got yourselves in. He started with the handcuffs and made quick work of them. Dean settled the vest over his body and road flare in his pocket, settling to hold the shotgun himself. A sick feeling bubbled in the hunter’s stomach. What if there was no opening and he’d just have to make peace with his new rent free cave apartment?

        “Uh…yeah. We can do that.” Dean looked to the ground intensely looking at nothing in particular. There really weren’t any other options he could take at this point. If you two used the shotgun to pull him out, there was no telling if the gun would accidentally go off hitting one of you. It wasn’t going to be a fun or quick time, but Dean would just have to find another way out. He turned his attention back to you, still kneeling above him. The two of you had a moment of silence looking at each other. This moment shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but there was no use in moping around when there was something that you could do. 

        “Are you sure you’re gonna be ok? I could join you down there.” You offered with a sad smile. Dean shook his head mirroring your face.

        “No, I’ll be ok. I’m a strong boy, I’ll find a way.” He did his best to show you a genuine smile.

        “Ok…then I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” With a sad wave of your hand, you pressed onwards.

        Dean saw your shadow disappear into the cave. He looked to his left and started walking. His back felt a little more supported with the vest so at least that didn’t add to his problems. The cave seemed to swallow Dean whole as he stumbled through the darkness. Lights were strung up in this part of the cave as well, but many of the lightbulbs were broken or smashed. The more he followed this path the more broken and messy it became. Shreds of shirts and various articles of clothing littered the floor. A crunch underneath his boot made Dean stop. He slowly picked up his boot and saw a pair of glasses missing one of the lenses. 

         The path lead into an opening. The floor was a dark shade of red mixed in with the dirt. Bone fragments stuck out from the ground. Some of them were distinguishable bones, while others were merely shards of a previous body, a previous human, a past president of the being alive club. Leaned up against the wall were three decomposing skeletons. Their skin was a wrinkly grey, eyes sunken in and stomach cavity empty. Bigger bones were piled up around them where Lydia must have fed. Dean couldn’t pick out if these bones were all from the same bodies or if they were mixtures of bodies over the decades. Instead of mulling over that question in his brain he decided to keep walking.

~~~~~~

        The cave’s cold air rushed into your lungs with a labored breath. Your eyes, cheeks, and mouth twitched and flickered in a sporadic pattern. Inside your mind a horrific theatre played out all the terrible scenarios of Dean meeting his demise. The wendigo could rip his heart out, eat him alive, or maybe that bastard of a cop would march Dean right up to his daughter as a delivery. At this point the only positive thing you could do was find Lydia yourself before she found your partner. You dug your hands into your pockets, feeling a candy wrapper and a paper clip you had yet to throw away still housed within them. The temperature was dropping steadily leading you to believe that an opening was nearby. 

        Wind grew stronger the more you continued on your path. You picked up your walking speed to a jog. Gusts of air whipped your hair around. The snow was thick and plummeted to the ground silently and was illuminated by the moon. You prayed that Dean found a way outside. The only sound to be heard was the blizzard whistling through the tree leaves, but other than that it was like a sound proof box trapped you in silence. The white trees looked like they went on for miles. 

        “(Y/N)!” A muffled voice screamed your name out in the inky blackness of the night. Your ears perked up and eyes narrowed. “(Y/N) where are you? I think it’s close!” It was Dean’s voice in both tone and color. You stalked closer to the source of the sound, walking so slowly that you felt your joints getting caught against their sockets. The thick snow packed underneath your boots with a crunch creating a map to your location. The lightbulb feeling reemerged and twisted inside your brain. Your shoulders lurched forwards as an unnerving feelings gripped onto your bones. Your face twisted. 

         Whatever was hidden in the forest was not your Dean. The voice was getting louder and started to yell. You dug into your back pocket and took out the road flare. Every shadow created looked like it took shape to move forward to you. You pushed forwards ignoring the feeling of the lightbulb digging deeper and your heart pumping in your chest. Your index finger hovered over the trigger, itching to pull it but you only had one shot. The source of your discomfort was moving. You moved your head in an attempt to keep track of it, but it was too fast to keep track of. One second it was on your right, but the next it was on your left. Had you been a normal human this monster would have you right where they wanted you. 

        Before you had time to fully process it, the wendigo ran at you and dug its claws into your shoulder. You flew back into a tree hitting your ribs and knocking the air out of your lungs. The road flare flew from your grasp and buried itself into the snow. In front of you was a seven foot five being. It had gaunt features and skin that stretched over the bones leaving her hip bones completely revealed and stomach cavity empty. This must have been Lydia. 

        You imagined her hair would’ve been a blunt short cut with bangs had it not been patchy and balding. She had a puffy vest on that had dark stains on it and stitches missing from its seams. White fluffy stuffing poked out of the holes in the seams. The pants she were wearing hung off of her hips and boney legs. They looked more like capris with how they road up on her long legs. 

        The wendigo rose its right hand and swiped down at you. Its claws scratched at the bark as you rolled to your right and shot up barely noticing the cold ground that stuck under your finger nails as you got up. Without sparing a thought you started to run. Lydia followed close behind, her claws almost touching your back. She put in more effort to keep up with you, not used to humans running this fast rivaling the speed of a car. The hunger surged her forwards. It was her guiding star and the only thing that mattered. Always craving something and someone with no end in sight. There were no thoughts in her head except for her next meal and you were standing right in front of her. 

        A small thought wondered if you were going to be able find your way back if you managed to survive this. All the trees looked the same like a wallpaper covering a room. The pattern was the same. All these possibilities clogged your brain. Is Dean ok? Would you get out of this? If you died what would happen to Dean? In general you couldn’t bare to think about what Dean would do if you died anyway. If you were being honest you knew that he’d go off the deep end with no one to catch him and pull him back. John was nowhere to be found. Lord knows your mom would never come help unless there was something in it for herself, and Sam was off at Stanford wanting nothing to do with any of you and wanting to leave his hunting past behind. He’d be completely alone. Left to his own devices with only the instinct to kill to take care of his pent up aggression. 

         The temperature was freezing the snow underneath the top layer. It caught onto the soles of your shoes mid thought. Time froze as you watched your body surge forward, hands out to brace your fall. Lydia had no problem with traction. She reached out in your absence of distance. Her claws tore through the fabric of your clothes and ripped the top layer of skin in a slash. A sharp pain pinched at your nerves and flared up all over your back, scratching out the prophecy burned into your back. Chunks of skin and muscle splashed onto the white snow coloring it red. The sensation in your upper back shoved the memory of the day you were called upon as a Slayer back into your mind. The burning. The disapproving looks from your mother and pity from John. The way Sam and Dean looked so confused and scared as to why you were screaming. The way your body never felt the same after that day. The disintegrating relationship between you and your mother. That was when it all started. 

        Your heart beat along with the bpm that of a dance song, in time and growing in speed. Before your hands felt the soft bed of the snow and before Lydia’s claws could latch onto your spinal columns, a metal snare snapped down on the wendigo’s ankle yanking her back and easily grabbing onto her gray skin to reveal off white bones. A high pitched screech echoed out of her throat. You joined her with a whimper, hitting the ground and rolling back onto your feet with the agility of a gymnast. Everything was moving past you in a blur and you had to act quickly. That snare could only hold her for so long. 

        Your feet carried you past Lydia searching for your road flare. You searched for any familiarity in the forest to no avail. The mountain was your only guide back. Nothing in the snow gave way for your road flare, the snow was getting heavier. No doubt that it was already covered. Fuck this you had to get to Dean. The pounding in your chest grew stronger, the opening of the cave you had previously come out of was in front of you. Your footsteps changed to a soft crunch to the clack and click of the rock cave. The string lights showed a shadow that climbed up the walls. 

        “Dean!” You ran into your partner. Dean was wearing the bullet proof vest holding the shotgun. You felt instant relief knowing that he made his way out. Dean felt quite the opposite. His throat tightened seeing your bleeding wounds. He should’ve been there. “Are you ok?” Dean’s eyebrows scrunched together, eyes looking directly into yours.

        “Am I ok? What happened to you?” Dean’s voice was low and dangerous. You took a moment to catch your breath and pull him into shelter. 

        “Well I met Rick’s daughter, she kinda sucks.” You offered a small smile. Dean shook his head and softly rolled his eyes. Your antics weren’t going to distract him today. His hands gently held onto your arm to inspect the gashes. His thumb brushed over the rip in the fabric to the skin underneath the break. A sinking pit formed where his heart was. Mother fucker every time you got hurt he was somewhere being helpless. Somewhere he shouldn’t have been. You had never been able to count on anyone in your life not even your own flesh and blood, Dean wanted to be the one person you could always go to for help. But he was never in the right place, always dicking off somewhere you weren’t. 

        “Yeah she seems like a real peach. Lemme see your back.” Dean put pressure on your shoulder to turn around. Your nerves shot up, making you snatch his wrist with a tight grip. Dean looked up confused, unfamiliar with this touch from you. He was about to respond when you interrupted him.

         “No! It’s fine- I’m good. Nothing’s gonna help me at the moment til we get back to the hotel. We should just find Lydia, kill her, and go home.” Dean paused for a moment, lips forming a small pout. Something seemed off about you, but now wasn’t the time to press. Once you two got back to the hotel then he could talk to you. After the call of The Slayer you had changed. You were more reserved and weighed down by self doubt. Even when it was just the kids you could never truly relax because at any second you could be pulled away from them to be in training with your mom at whatever local gym was in your area. 

        Your mother spent the bulk of your childhood beating off The Council of The Slayer. The only way she could truly prepare you for the world you were supposed to fight was to train you herself to the discipline of that of a drill sergeant. If you were born to kill evil you were going to do it her way. Your mother didn’t trust many, if any at all, but she would never trust The Council. It was the one thing she did right as a parent. The Council would never get their hands on you and she was determined to keep it that way. She was hard on you for a reason, among many bad ones, but the most prominent reason being that she would rather train you herself then let somebody else do it. You had to be strong enough to fight against the forces of evil and The Council. 

        What a grand fuck you to your mother it was when you joined them after high school. 

        The Council was an organization centered in England made up of Watchers. Generally The Watchers were tasked with finding and training The Slayer. Dean had only seen a Watcher once. It was in high school when you were waiting for him to pick you up. Sam was about twelve padding behind you when an unknown man in a suit came up to you. He spoke to you about the supernatural and how you were the chosen one to fight it. Dean swooped in to scare the guy off before he was able to finish his sales pitch. He never really knew much about Watchers or The Council as they were a very secretive group, but he did as much research as he could. Dean didn’t want you to have to face this alone. He never found out why your mom hated them so much, save for her abrasiveness to new people. Dean only got his answer when you found him in the middle of Montana. You came straight to him seeking a familiar face, your only source of comfort. 

        You looked tired, exhausted, like your body hadn’t gotten the chance to sit down for a century. Yet you still greeted him with a smile when you found him at a local bar. The first five minutes felt surreal, like a figment of Dean’s imagination to have you sitting here next to him after years of silence. It broke his heart the day you left, one by one everyone left his life to go find something better. Sam left for college, you left to escape your mother and join The Council, and John…. Well John was nowhere to be found and at this point Dean couldn’t force himself to care. 

        Dean thought of those years with John/by himself as the dark years. You two tried to stay in contact but it wasn’t the same. You explained at the bar everything that had happened when you left. Even hearing Dean’s voice reminded you of your less than perfect childhood. You still had moments of guilt for cutting him out. You wanted a fresh start where nobody knew who you were or what you were, but little did you know that it would catch up with you anyway. Originally you wanted to go to college, figure out what you wanted to do with your life and see what happened. You had even made a couple of friends, had a relationship. It didn’t last too long because the supernatural found you. 

        Once your new normal friends found out the truth, they couldn’t see past what you were at face value. Just a branch of demon. They cursed your name for the knowledge your life forcibly thrusted upon them. They didn’t want to know the secrets of the world, content staying in the Matrix. After that you gave up on living a normal life. You dropped out of college and disappeared into The Council. It was sort of like a job. You had a room in their compound, a place to train, and odd jobs around the world to take care of. It was nice for a little while to not be shunned for what you were. If anything they were ecstatic. The first few years were good, but over time they treated you less like a person and more like a tool. 

        They had complete control over your life, what you ate, how you spent your time, who you saw. This found family was turning into a cult. You had already left one overbearing mother, you weren’t about to let yourself get into a toxic relationship like that ever again. In the middle of the night you packed the bare essentials and set out to find Dean, following other hunter’s knowledge of his whereabouts like a signal. He could’t be more grateful that you found him, nursing a drink pondering his existence and why he was put on this Earth. 

        “Not to break up a beautiful moment, but shouldn’t you be at the bottom of a ravine?” The two of you turned to see Rick with a gun pointed at you. You pushed Dean behind you and stood your ground, eyes narrowed and unmoving. “I don't know what you are missy but it was a neat little trick you did to get out of my car, but none of that matters now.” Rick stood tall with a cocky smirk. He just had to finish the last step and he’d never have to see you two ever again. 

        “Better put that gun down before somebody gets hurt.” You spoke. You could feel Dean shuffling wanting to get in front of you.

        “Oh I don’t think I’m too worried about that.” The clanking of chains got louder from behind you, dragging on the rock floor. Dean looked behind him. Lydia’s form came into view, limping on her right side where the snare was still wrapped around her ankle like a bracelet. 

        “Shit….” Dean muttered tightening his grip on the shotgun. The road flare was in his back pocket, but if Rick saw him reach for it there’s no telling what he would do. You were caught in the middle of an insane cop and his monster daughter. If Dean shot at her, Rick would shoot at you…

        “Same time?” You asked Dean. He nodded. In a flash you hooked your right hand into Rick’s gun knocking it out of his hand and clanking to the ground. Dean pulled the trigger aiming at Lydia’s head. The slug hit her in an instant making her screech so loud the walls shook. You took a hold of Rick by his shirt and threw him into Lydia.

        “Lydia it’s me! It’s Dad!” Rick screamed as Lydia’s claws came closer to his throat. She tore into his body and splattered red painting the rocks. Lydia held no remorse for her actions digging deeper into her father’s body. Dean threw you the shotgun and took hold of his road flare. Without sparing a thought you held up the weapon and unloaded on Lydia. Flashes of bullets sparked in the cave. Lydia tossed aside Rick and turned her attention to you. 

        “Dean shoot it!” The hunter raised the road flare and pointed it at Lydia’s stomach. The flare launched out of the orange gun in a burst of red light hitting Lydia right in the gut. Her hands dug at the fusee in her stomach wailing in pain. The flare started to consume her clothing and burned orange. You continued to use every slug in the gun before you were empty. Lydia jerked around and fell to the floor as the fire grew larger using her body as a vessel. After a couple of moments of silence, Lydia stopped trying to move. 

        “Think she’s dead?” Dean asked.

        “Yeah….I think.” You said not wanting to get any closer to the wendigo. 

        “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

~~~~~~

        You and Dean let the body continue to burn, it eventually caught onto Rick as well. The two of you slowly made your way back to the car Rick brought you in. No doubt that his police goons would recognize the car. Dean took driving responsibility and got you guys back to town in one piece. He dropped the car off at an abandoned Blockbuster store parking lot a little out of town. The rest of the way you two walked, knowing if you got an Uber that there would be a lot of questions. Thankfully baby was still there parked in front of Chrissy’s house. The leather seats were a warm welcome after all that crazy shit.

        The minute you were in the hotel you all but ran to the bathroom to look at the damage you sustained with a spare shirt in hand. The LED bathroom lights hurt your eyes as you flipped the switch. You shuffled in front of the mirror and shucked off your coat. The ruined item plopped onto the floor, blood dripping off of the rips and onto the white tiled floor. Your shirt joined it soon after. The only thing left was the thick white bandage you wrapped around your torso like a binder to conceal the brand on your back. Slowly you reached around and pulled your hair to the side.

        You strained your neck to inspect the slash, it pinched in pain as you turned your body. It was already healing up thanks to your Slayer abilities but it was definitely going to need some stitching if you were going to be on your feet soon. Unfortunately you would need help if you were going to get stitches. 

        …..ya know on second thought maybe bleeding for a couple of weeks wasn’t so bad

        “Hey you ok?” Dean’s muffled voice came through the door. You look at wound again and put a fresh shirt on. 

        “Uh, yeah I’m fine…” You opened the door slowly. Dean rose an eyebrow not believing a damn word you were saying. 

        “Let me see your back, it looked pretty bad in there.” You ignored Dean’s request and slipped past him to go to your bed. 

        “It’s fine, I’m ok.” 

        “(Y/N), there’s blood coming through your shirt just let me help.” Dean tried to hold onto your arm. Your heart started to beat faster as he pushed further. 

        nonononononono 

        “Dean I’m fine.” Your face twisted in discomfort.

        “No you’re not, why are you being so weird about this?” 

        “I’m not being weird!” You raised your voice stepping back again.

        “Then show me your back!” Dean’s volume matched yours.

        “No because you’ll see it!” Your chest was heavy as you looked at Dean. He tilted his head not quite understanding what you meant. You eyes were watering, tears threatening to spill over. You couldn’t look at Dean now. Your eyes looked at every inch of the room where he wasn’t. You were mentally preparing yourself for the talk you were going to have and the inevitable disappointment and resentment he would hold.

        “See what?” He softened his voice again. The air in the room stopped moving, it felt like  it was filled with styrofoam. A small choked whimper escaped the prison of your throat, two tears trickled down your cheek. You couldn’t do this again. If anybody else looked at you like your mom did the first time she saw it you didn’t think it would matter, but Dean? He was the last shred of family you had left. If he saw the prophecy burned into your back he would dump you like last weeks trash on the side of the curb without a second glance. 

        Usually Dean was a very open minded guy, always willing to hear somebody’s opinions and thoughts on a matter. But with demons and monsters his first instinct was to kill. It was never to ask them why they did the things they did or to try and help them. It was kill first ask questions later. 

        “The scar….I’m sure you’ve read about it, but when a Slayer gets called they get branded.” The sentence tumbled out of your mouth before you could process it. The truth needed to come out now. Rip the bandaid off. “You’ll know what I am and hate me just like my mom did.” Dean felt a pain in his chest. 

        “Sweetheart, I already know what you are. And I still love you, just let me help you.” Dean took a small step towards you, gauging your reaction to his distance. 

        “But you don’t, I’m a demon.” Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes harder than he ever did in life.

        “That is the biggest load of horse shit I have ever heard.” Dean crossed his arms and stood still. 

        “Dean a Slayer is infused with the heart, soul, and essence of a demon. Doesn’t that make me a branch of demon?” You questioned. He furrowed his brows, lips pulled down as he took in what you said. 

        “No? No.” Dean shook his head refusing to believe what you said. He waved his hands in the air to clear the slate. “It doesn’t matter what you are!” 

        You raised your eyebrows, holding back a sarcastic laugh. “Oh so there are exceptions? There are good monsters?” Dean flared his nostrils and glared at you.

        “No, the only good demon is a dead one. No demon would ever or has ever done anything good.”

        “Well then why am I a good demon? Why are you so quick to change your views? You’re contradicting yourself. You can’t just pick and chose which principles apply to demons.” For a moment you forgot about the scar and took a step towards Dean. He ran his rough palms over his face and pushed his hair back. 

        “Because I don’t care what you are! I don’t care about what the council of dick bags says you are, I don’t care what your mom thinks you are or what anybody thinks you are. Demon or not I still fucking love you, you moron. I. Don’t. Care.” Dean closed the gap between you two, toes touching on the cheap carpet. You looked away, another tear slipping out. 

        “If you see it….you’ll look at me the same way my mom did.” You swallowed thickly, releasing a shaky breath. Dean put his hand under chin and tilted your head up. He wiped away the tear with the pad of his thumb across your cheek.

        “Impossible.” He said tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now let me stitch you up before the news paper has to write the dumbest obituary ever.” You chuckled with him not yet moving from your place. You wanted to savor this moment, save the memory of how it felt to be this close to him so you could replay it when the inner voices of self doubt snuck into your brain at night. 

        “Oh yeah? What would it say?” Dean didn’t move either, still looking down at you. 

        “Stubborn Bitch Bleeds out to Death in a Skeezy Motel that has Definitely Given People STD’s before Because She was an Idiot and Didn’t Let a Handsome Mystery Man Help Her.” 

        “That’s far too long to be a headline.”

        “Shutup and get on the damn bed.”

        “You’ll never make it as a reporter.” 

_____________________________________________________________________

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Call It Destiny

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Characters: Juvia Lockser, Natsu Dragneel

Requested By: AwarenessBringer (FanFiction)

Clack. Clack. Clack. Juvia’s boots clunked over the wet brick as she slowly descended the steps of the Hargeon Town train station. The drumming of the rain was steady against her umbrella that she held primly over her head. She did not look up as two girls holding their small bags over their heads hurried past, complaining loudly about the fact that the rain had seemingly followed them the entire train ride; Juvia’s indigo eyes remained fixed on the countless puddles before her, transfixed and disgusted with the way the ripples bloomed across their sheer surfaces. The raindrops flew down endlessly in a constant stream that would be calming to individuals lounging inside their homes waiting for the rain to pass. Juvia almost pitied them, because they would be stuck inside a very long time at that rate. Until she left this town, the rain would not cease; that was the curse that she, the rain woman, wrought upon the world.

For once, however, Juvia could admit that her rain served purpose. The damp, wet atmosphere would surely suit perfectly to douse the fire of one Fairy Tail mage named “the Salamander.”

Juvia knew not how Bora came to calling himself that name. The last she had heard, he had been excommunicated from his former guild for the use of illegal magic and thievery. She also knew not why Fairy Tail, a supposedly upstanding guild, would hire him, unless he had somehow managed to hide his shady pastimes. Juvia was also not sure what had compelled her to come to Hargeon Town. Was she seeking revenge for the way he had so unceremoniously and callously dumped her? Was she here to reveal his nefarious nature for Fairy Tail to see, or, alternatively, reveal Fairy Tail’s shady underbelly to the world? Or even, was she here to see if all of this was just some vain attempt of his to upset her, by flaunting how successful he was while she was still alone and depressed? Perhaps none of them, or perhaps a combination of all of them. Juvia supposed that she would discover her reasoning once she was actually face-to-face with the man.

The streets were largely clear as Juvia strolled through them, thanks to the perpetual rain pouring from the heavens above. Her expression soured a little as she considered the possibility that the weather would drive Bora inside as well, which would make confronting him all the more difficult. As she paused in the middle of the street to articulate her next move, the drumming of the rain was suddenly overtaken by very furious slapping footsteps. The sound was coming from behind her; as she turned, leaning the umbrella back to get a good look at the perpetrator, someone zoomed past her at such speed that a wall of water was what was greeted her instead. She squeaked loudly as she was splashed with rainwater from head-to-toe; Juvia could absorb it and was more surprised than affronted. As she used her magic to do just that, there was a loud screeching noise, and she looked up to see a pink-haired individual rapidly back-tracking to stand in front of her.

“Whoa! Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to drench ya!”

Juvia had to admit, a faint blush rose to her cheeks from how absolutely stunning his smile was. It was so bright that she thought for a moment that the sun had actually come out and she instinctively looked up; however, the sky was still choked with ashen gray clouds, not a ray of sunlight slipping through the thick barrier. She glanced back down to see that he was now a mere few inches from her face, green eyes boring into hers. “Wait a second, where’d the water go? What kinda magic is that?!” he demanded with steam blowing out of his nostrils.

“Juvia is a water mage,” she answered simply. His pink eyebrows quirked before he nodded emphatically in admiration.

“Neat, neat! I guess it’s a good thing I splashed you instead of anyone else!” he laughed lightheartedly. It was then that she noticed that the man did not have an umbrella on his person and was just running about getting drenched in the rain. His salmon hair was plastered to his forehead, and water was running down his face in rivulets to drip down from his chin. His clothes were sodden and probably a few shades darker than they normally were.

“You’ll catch cold running around in the rain like this.”

“Nah, don’t worry about me,” he said while waving a hand dismissively. Juvia flushed darkly, for some reason very stimulated by the fact he brushed off the rain when everyone else she had ever known had griped about it being such an inconvenience. He doesn’t mind it… He then planted it above his eyebrows and because looking about wildly, squatting low to the ground as he inspected every nook and cranny in sight. “I’m on a mission, ya see, to track down this fella callin’ himself the Salamander!” From the way he was huffing and puffing, it was not because he was a fan.

“Juvia is also looking for this fire mage.” The boy straightened up like a rod to look at her with wide eyes. Another grin then split his face like a sunbeam.

“Really?! Well, why don’t we look for him together, then? Three pairs o’ eyes is better than two, yeah?” Juvia narrowed her eyebrows quizzically, but before she could call his intelligence into question, a pair of blue cat ears poked up over his broad shoulder. This was followed by the head of a cat and its paw, waving in greeting.

“Aye, aye! Let’s get looking, because the sooner we find him, the sooner we can eat!” He purred contentedly.

“It talks.”

“Yep! This is my buddy Happy, and I’m Natsu. You’re Juvia, right?” She nodded. “Great! Nice ta meetcha!” he chirped and grabbed her hand to shake it vigorously. His hand was warm. Incredibly so. Juvia felt the blooming sensation travel up her arm, like she was dipping it into a lovely bath. Natsu… Normally Juvia did not concern herself with others, especially when she had a specific mission in mind, but there was just something so… gripping about this young man. She gripped the fabric of her overcoat above her heart, feeling it flutter within. Juvia has not felt this way since Bora…

She was not sure if it was a portent of doom or an omen foretelling better days. Only time would tell.

“Let’s get going, shall we?” Natsu whirled on his heel to begin splashing along down the road, humming cheerfully. Juvia hurried to catch up to him and then extended the umbrella so that it would shield him as well. He was a bit taller than her, so she had to stretch her arms up to do so, and she was almost embarrassed at how quickly her biceps began to burn at the awkward angle. Regardless of what he says, Juvia does not want him to become ill because of her rain, she thought miserably. He looked down at her with upturned eyebrows. “You don’t have to. I’m okay.”

“Please. Juvia wants to share.”

“That’s really nice of you!” he smiled brightly. “That looks uncomfortable, though; lemme help.” She gasped lightly as he plucked the umbrella right out of her hands to hold it up himself. Juvia wasn’t used to not holding it, so her hand automatically slipped to clutch his forearm where it was bent at a ninety-degree angle; once she realized what she was doing, her face flushed tomato-red, but honestly his muscles felt so nice and defined under her petite hand that she shamelessly kept doing so. Natsu didn’t seemed to mind; in fact, he seemed pretty much oblivious to it. “That’s better, huh?” he grinned down at her.

“Aye, aye! Thanks for the umbrella, Juvia!” Happy sighed as he crawled up onto Natsu’s shoulder. He then proceeded to squat down and shake himself from the top of his head to the tip of his tail, splattering Natsu with raindrops. The boy jumped as they painted the side of his head and face.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch it, will ya?” he whined loudly as he tilted his head to try and shake the drops out of his ears. Juvia could not help but giggle at their amusing antics. They get along so well… “Yeesh… I’m starving,” Natsu whined all of a sudden and clutched his growling belly with his free hand. “I can’t wait to find this Salamander guy and then get some grub.”

“Do you know who he is?”

“Nope. All I know is he’s calling himself the Salamander. I’m hoping he’s my master, Igneel!” At the mention of his name, Natsu’s green eyes began to sparkle. He looked so overjoyed at the prospect that Juvia wrestled with crushing his hopes, but she did not wish to see him incredibly upset when he discovered the true identity of the fire mage.

“Actually… He is a mage named Bora.”

“What?!” Natsu stopped in his tracks to look poutily at her. “You mean we came all this way for nothing? Aw, man… And I was so hopin’ I would get to see Igneel again,” he griped aloud. Juvia looked down at her feet miserably. Should she have not told him?

“Juvia is sorry to have to be the one to tell you…”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he sighed deeply. She peered out of the corners of her eyes to see him rubbing his neck and smiling gratefully down at her. “I ‘preciate it. It woulda been a bummer to come all this way and it be just some random dude. I guess me ‘n Happy should grab some grub and then head back to Fairy Tail.”

“You are from Fairy Tail?”

“That’s right!” he snickered and turned to show off his bright pink guild mark on his upper arm.

“Then that must mean Bora is not a member of Fairy Tail.” As she had suspected, he was abusing the guild’s name to build clout. What could he possibly be up to? Juvia was busy considering the possibilities and did not notice that he had closed the distance between them again; after a second, her eyes registered his brilliant green ones centimeters away, and her face turned redder than ever.

“What? What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Rumor has it that Salamander is a Fairy Tail mage. Bora has been calling himself by this name. Juvia knows Bora well; he is not a very good man. He has gotten in trouble for many bad things…” Natsu’s eyes narrowed into sharp peaks as he stiffly straightened back up. His grip tightened so hard around the umbrella’s handle that his knuckles glared white and she feared the plastic may splinter.

“So that’s it, huh? Well, I can’t stand by while somebody is tarnishin’ our good name. I think this calls for an ass-kickin’, don’tcha agree, Happy?!” The cat trilled in agreement over his shoulder. “I’m all fired up now!” His grin was absolutely feral, but something about it filled Juvia with excitement. She barely knew him, but somehow she felt as if she could follow him to the ends of the Earth. Her heart began to pound wildly in her chest again, and despite her many wills, it refused to still.

Natsu…

“It is very good fortune that Juvia met you today,” she remarked with a tiny smile.

“Nah,” Natsu said nonchalantly. For a second her heart threatened to break at his dismissiveness, but when she looked up at him, he was smiling broadly. “I don’t believe in luck! Let’s call it destiny! When we’re done here, you should totally come back to Fairy Tail with me, Juvia!” he offered. Juvia’s eyes widened as she stared at him in shock. Juvia… Join Fairy Tail? Her fingers were twisting so hard into her overcoat that she felt she could tear the thick, cottony fabric. She was so… happy. Juvia could not the last time she felt that emotion so purely and strongly.

“Yes… Juvia will gladly come to Fairy Tail!” she cried and nodded emphatically.

“Great! Ass-kickin’ first, though.”

“Yes!”

~~~~~~~~~~

They tracked Bora to a cruise liner docked at the port. It took a lot of convincing to prevent Natsu from charging in fires-a-burnin’, but she managed to convince him to do so. Apparently, Bora had been seen courting a large group of ladies and they had all migrated onto the ship. Juvia had several ideas about why Bora would be so interested in women, and none of them sat well with her. One peek through the windows validated her concerns; throughout the dining hall there were woman slumped over tables or collapsed on the floor with half-finished drinks still in their hands. They were casually discarded as men in suits hauled them off into another room.

“Human trafficking…” Juvia murmured under her breath.

“What a buncha bastards,” Natsu growled in agreement. “I can’t stand by and watch this anymore!” Before Juvia could rebuke him, he punched through the window to charge into the room, bright fire alighting all over his arms. She cried aloud and looked around wildly, unsure of what to do, before she decided to hop into the interior of the ship after him. Natsu had already slammed the two lackeys into the wall to knock them unconscious and was now plowing through the wooden door breathing fire. “Come out, you asshole! I know you’re in here!”

“I would appreciate it if you stopped making a mess of my ship,” sighed a voice from behind Juvia. The two mages whirled on their feet to see Bora holding a squirming blonde by her wrists. As Natsu went to wind up for a punch, Bora clicked his tongue and jerked on the girl’s arm, making her wail in pain. “Ah, ah, ah. Wouldn’t want to have to break the pretty lady’s arm here. Why don’t you fizzle out for a second, yeah?” Bora sneered at Natsu before his eyes drifted to Juvia. They instantly narrowed in confusion. “What?! What are you doing here?”

“Juvia has come to put a stop to your villainy!” He stared at her, then snorted and looked back to Natsu.

“So, this your new boyfriend? He sick of the rain yet?” Juvia flushed bright pink and slapped her hands to her cheeks, bleating about how Natsu wasn’t her boyfriend at all, but froze in horror when he mentioned her rain. She looked at the fire mage in terror to see him staring quizzically at Bora. “Ah, haven’t figured it out yet, eh? This woman’s a curse. Makes it rain wherever she goes. It gets old real quick; that’s why I dumped her.” Juvia hung her head as she hugged herself. She couldn’t speak of for herself, but her mind was just melancholy echoes of No… Juvia is not a curse…

“You’re a real piece o’ work, you know that, asshole?” Natsu snarled. She peered back at him to see him slamming a fist into his palm, fire blooming at the area of contact. “What’s wrong with rain, huh?”

“Yeah! It makes all the flowers grow and it smells really nice and fresh~” Happy trilled with a wiggling tail.

“You said it, Happy! I’m sure there are plenty o’ people out there who would see Juvia as a blessing. So, kindly let me punch the snot outta ya for disrespectin’ her like that, okay?” Natsu hunched down, fist drawn back with fire swirling within, but Bora once again made use of his hostage. He did not expect the girl to have plenty of fight left in her, however, because once he was distracted by Natsu, she slammed the heel of her boot as hard as she could into his toes. Bora yowled in agony and let her go to begin bouncing around on one foot, while the girl snatched a ring of jangling silver and gold keys to hurriedly dash over and hide behind Juvia.

“I dunno who you people are, but we have to save all the girls on this ship!”

“We’re Fairy Tail mages!” Natsu grinned brightly. Juvia’s cheeks darkened as she smiled happily, her heart beginning to flutter again. She hadn’t even officially joined yet, but he was already acknowledging her as a comrade? The girl began screaming about how she wanted to join Fairy Tail too and that they were going to talk after Bora was effectively handled. Now that the girl was free, Bora hand no shield, and Natsu was rearing up for a big attack.

“Take this, ya scumbag!” Natsu’s chest suddenly swelled up as he breathed in deeply, and the two girls watched in admiration as he released a billowing white-hot flame from the pits of his lungs. “Fire Dragon’s Rooooooooar!” Just barely audible over the rushing of the flames was Bora’s high-pitched totally unmanly screaming as he was blasted through the hull of the ship and out into open water. Natsu snickered and wiped at his mouth, grinning at the large hole in the side of the cruise liner. “Well, that takes care of that.”

“You idiot! Everything’s on fire!” the blonde girl screeched and ran over to bonk him over the head.

“Who are you, anyway?!” Natsu whined, crouching down as he rubbed his bruised noggin.

“My name’s Lucy!”

“Um! Lucy! Please do not hit Natsu! And don’t worry, Juvia can handle the fire,” the water mage quipped suddenly before she scampered over to the gaping hole in the hull of the ship. She gathered some of the sea water below and surged it through the opening, splashing it over the flickering flames to quickly douse them before they spread too far. I will show Natsu that I am worthy to join Fairy Tail! She thought with glee as she willed the water about the room. She got a little excited, though, and three very loud complaining yelps indicated that she had accidentally drenched the others. She laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of her neck as Lucy and Natsu gave her thin-lipped glares. “Juvia is sorry…”

~~~~~~~~~~

They handed Bora over to the authorities and the drugged women were transported to the nearest hospital for treatment. Now, the three mages and Happy were sitting along the cobblestone wall overlooking the harbor. Lucy had related the tale of her own search for the Salamander and how she had ended up on the cruise liner and foiled Bora’s plot.

“This turned out great, huh?” Natsu laughed with a beaming smile. “Now I can take the two of you back to Fairy Tail with me! Gramps’ll be pleased.” His scarf swished as he hopped down off the wall and stretched his arms above his head. “He ain’t gonna be pleased about the property damage to the cruise liner that scumbag was renting…” he mumbled with lidded eyes. He then whirled around to point at the two of them. “Anyway! How’s about dinner, yeah? I’m starving after all that butt-whoopin’!”

“It wasn’t even a butt-whoopin’; you took him out in five seconds…” Lucy muttered under her breath, then smiled. “But, I’ve heard of a nice place in town. Follow me!” She hopped off the wall to begin skipping down the street with Happy flying (apparently, he could conjure wings, the strange little cat creature) behind her. Juvia jumped down from the wall and turned to follow when suddenly Natsu’s hand was extended out to her.

“You must be really happy, huh?”

“Oh… Yes. How could you tell?” she blinked. Ever since Natsu had offered for her to join Fairy Tail, she had possessed this floaty feeling in her body, and her heart had refused to be still. Juvia had been hesitant to call it love, since it had landed her in plenty of trouble in the past, but she also couldn’t deny that it was strongly familiar. Natsu cocked his head to the side as he scrunched up his eyes from a big smile.

“It stopped rainin’, you know?”

Juvia gasped and snapped her neck back to look at the sky. Sure enough, it was brilliantly blue and cloudless. Her indigo eyes shook as she beheld the thing that had been veiled to her for as long as she could remember. They filled up with tears that soon spilled over onto her cheeks, and her mouth twisted into a brokenly overjoyed smile.

“It’s… So beautiful… It has been so long since Juvia has seen the sky…”

“Juvia.” Her head slowly fell back down to meet his brilliant green eyes. In the back of her mind, she thought they complimented her shade nicely. “Let’s go. To Fairy Tail.” Juvia extended a trembling hand to slide it into his, and his fingers grasped on tightly. His hand was so warm and welcoming and kind. It had been so long since Juvia had felt such caring emotions from someone. She used her other hands to quickly wipe at her cheeks as Natsu lurched her forward, laughing animatedly. Her feet carried her onward, towards her new future.

Juvia thought for a moment that it was good luck she took the train to Hargeon Town, then corrected herself.

No, not luck… Call it destiny.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @searchfortheonepiece

[elcorhamletlive]

Fandom: MCU (post-Avengers) Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Tags: Fluff, Pining Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century summary:  As Steve discovers the internet, he also discovers old memes.

As Tony and Bruce climb out of the lab, the sound that echoes in the room is so foreign that it takes Tony a moment to realize it’s a laugh, and one more moment to realize it’s Steve’s.

At the top of the staircase, Tony sees him on the couch, and yeah, he’s laughing. Not politely chuckling or awkwardly forcing a laugh, mind you, but actually, genuinely having a belly laugh, complete with a pink flush all over his face, his eyes turning into tiny blue streaks as he wipes them with back of his hand, catching his breath.

It’s—well. It’s a vision, to be blunt.

“Sounds like you’re having fun,” Bruce says, and that’s the understatement of the year, because Steve looks downright delighted. He struggles to catch his breath, still grinning helplessly as he looks away from his phone.

“Oh,” he says, as if he’s just realized their presence. His flush deepens, Tony notices. Steve’s has kind of an ugly flush, that shows up in red spots coming up from his neck as well, instead of sticking prettily to his cheeks. Tony sticks his hands in his pockets to control his itch to touch it. “Hi.”

“Hey, Cap.” Clint throws himself on the couch next to him and leans, trying to take a pick at his phone. It’s rude, but Tony can’t really blame him, because he’s one step away from offering actual money to find out what made Steve laugh like that. “What are you looking at?”

Steve controls his grin into a more schooled smile, but he still perks up , and in a moment Tony is right behind the couch, leaning forward to place his hands over the cushion. From behind Steve’s broad, sculpted-by-the-Gods back, he catches a glimpse of a Twitter feed.

“I was trying to learn how to use, hmm—Twitter, right?” He pronounces it correctly, which really shouldn’t make Tony want to kiss him in congratulations, but it absolutely does. “And I found this, this page…” His face twists in an effort not to laugh. “You’re not gonna believe it. Here, I’ll show you. You guys need to see this.” He holds up the phone a little higher for Tony and Bruce to see.

As he types – a little slower than most people would – a name into the search bar, Tony’s heart kind of breaks.

“It’s genius,” Steve says, as the account opens. “I was just looking at this one—”

“Wait,” Clint interrupts. “Are you serious?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, with a little frown between his eyebrows that Tony’s hand itches to smooth it out. “I know it seems silly, but it’s really funny.” He turns, and, at Clint’s gaze, grows more indignant. “The pictures are very good and the captions are really creative.”

“I know,” Clint says bluntly. “It’s Dog Rates, Cap. They have over eight million followers. It’s a huge account. Everyone knows it.”

Steve’s frown vanishes, but it’s replaced by something a lot worse: surprise, and then a clear, raw disappointment that he does his best to mask. His posture deflates, his hand going to the back of his neck, rubbing it.

“Oh,” he says, and he’s back to his usual man-out-of-time voice, probably feeling old and stupid, the excitement from before already a distant memory.

It’s legitimately like someone turned off the sun. So, really, nobody can blame Tony for saying, “I didn’t know it.”

Steve looks at him. “Really?”

“Really?” Clint asks, a thousand times more skeptical, and Tony gestures flippantly at him.

“Not all of us have free time to troll on Twitter, Barton,” he says. Then he turns to Steve, who’s watching him with wide blue eyes that almost make him forget how to form words. “So? What’s all the fuss about?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says, a hesitant smile already blooming on his face. He turns further to show his phone exclusively to Tony, signaling for him to lean further so their heads are closer, which isn’t a configuration Tony minds, at all. “See, it’s very simple – they post a picture, and give it a rate. At first, I thought it seemed a little harsh, because, really, which dog should ever get a low rate, right? But, see—all their rates start out at ten.”

He proceeds to show some of his favorite posts. Tony’s seen them all, either from following the account or from random dog memes Rhodey sends him sometimes, but he plays along, ooooh- ing and ­ awwwww -ing at the right moments, and in no time Steve is grinning again, glad to be explaining something to someone else for a change, feeling in the loop.

Some people could say what Tony’s doing is lying, but he disagrees, because he isn’t faking it at all when he grins back.

-

After Steve finds out Dog Rates, it doesn’t take him long to find Thoughts of Dog, which he finds even more delightful. He shows it to Tony during breakfast, sitting next to him on the counter as they go through the tweets together.

“This is amazing,” Steve says. He’s at that stage where it seems like his cheeks hurt from smiling. Tony thinks he should look like this more often. Maybe all the time. “When they explained it at SHIELD, I thought the internet was more of a tool, like a huge encyclopedia. And obviously, it is, but it didn’t occur to me it could be…”

“Fun?” Tony asks.

Steve looks at him and smiles. Tony is quite fond of that sequence of events.

“Yeah,” he says. When he smiles like that, a dimple shows up in his cheek.

Tony isn’t even a dog person, but it couldn’t matter less.

-

Steve eventually expands his knowledge of animal memes and pages to include cats, which means Tony starts receiving lots of videos that were, at one point, considered the pinnacle of internet humor, with cats playing piano and sliding over wood floors.

Steve finds out about Grumpy Cat a few hours before he learns she’s dead. In between, he texts Tony a bunch of pictures of her with a message reading “this is how you look at morning team meetings”.

Tony honest-to-God giggles, because, really, he’s a lost cause.

A few moments afterwards, he receives a lengthy message of Steve saying he just found the cat in the picture had died, but she had apparently lived a long and happy life and so he hoped Tony wouldn’t be sad by finding this out.

Since Tony doesn’t immediately answer (because there’s a marching band leading what is apparently an eternal fourth of July parade in his chest), Steve then apologizes for sending the memes in the first place, and, look—if nobody sees Tony sighing, nobody can prove anything, regardless of what the dopey smile on his face might suggest.

-

On a remarkable occasion, Steve sends in a “important Avenger news – waiting for your thoughts, Iron Man” e-mail, and, when Tony opens it, he’s rick-rolled in front of his entire office.

“This is the cringiest shit I’ve ever seen,” Clint, who’s there to get suit upgrades, says.

“Shut up,” Tony says.

“SHIELD has informed him we think it’s best if he doesn’t have a Twitter account,” Natasha, who’s there to have lunch with Pepper, says, and even through her supreme spy training Tony can tell she has to try hard to keep an even expression. “For his… reputation.”

“Oh, shut up,” Tony repeats. “It would only make him more popular, and you know it.”

Natasha shrugs with a knowing smile. “To some people, maybe.”

Tony looks away, his face heating.

-

Eventually, Steve confronts him about it.

They’re on the couch, right after what wasn’t exactly a date, but also wasn’t definitely not a date either—Steve had said he was hungry, and Tony had asked if he wanted to get dinner, but then Steve said “sure, there’s pasta in the fridge”, and they had ended up eating in the living room, plates full of large portions of heated up pasta from lunch (which, against all odds, tasted really good).

Now they’re on the same couch, bodies lax and full of carbs, and sitting pretty close to each other already, although Tony does take advantage of any opportunity to slip a little closer. They’re watching as Steve scrolls through a series of images on his phone, all historical pictures or paintings with a photoshopped, photobombing squirrel.

Tony chuckles, because he barely remembers this one, and because Steve seems happy and relaxed and this makes it easier for him to laugh.

“How come you don’t know any of these things?” Steve asks with a raised eyebrow. “You work with tech.”

“Machines don’t make memes,” Tony says. Then, after a second, he adds: “At least not good ones.”

“Your profile is one of the most followed of all time on Twitter and Instagram,” Steve counters.

“Wow, okay—cyber-stalking much?” Tony replies, which makes Steve’s cheeks grow a little pink, but he doesn’t seem too embarrassed, just a little shy as he opens a small smile. Tony takes the opportunity to nest a little closer.

“I was just looking,” Steve says, his eyes landing on the point of contact between his and Tony’s shoulders. They’re so close now they’re basically leaning against each other, and Tony is about to retreat and mumble an excuse to leave and save himself the embarrassment, when Steve adds: “It’s nice. That—that you don’t mind me sharing things.” Then, to Tony’s bafflement, he comes closer and leans his head on Tony’s shoulder. “There’s so much to catch up on. Sometimes it’s nice to—to feel like I’m in the loop for a change.”

There’s a knot in Tony’s throat, and yet his body is reeling, completely taken by the warmth of Steve’s frame cuddled up against him.

There must be something in Steve’s eyes, too – something more than what his words say, something brighter and warmer that’s almost blinding as he stares at Tony, something that makes Tony confident enough to lean forward and press a kiss on the top of Steve’s head.

“No problem,” he muffles against Steve’s hair.

Steve hums pleasantly and then asks Tony if he’s seen the world’s fastest skateboarding bulldog yet.

Of course, Tony hasn’t.

[lailannajacobs]

Circles

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Prompt: Costume Party: Stark is throwing a work Masquerade party and you’ve decided to go, hoping you’ll finally work up the courage to talk to a certain someone you’ve had a crush on for a while now

Warnings: fluff! 

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: My submission for @moonstruckbucky​ Halloween challenge! Although it’s not creepy in the slightest (I’m the world’s biggest scaredycat) I had a great time getting into the Halloween spirit! First time writing Steve Rogers so I’m curious to know what you guys think!! <3

“I look stupid,” You whined, staring at your reflection in distaste, “Why am I even going to this thing.”

Nat’s gaze slid away from her own reflection in the mirror to yours, “Because you’re hoping that Steve shows up so that you can finally make a move.”

She fiddled with the clasp of her earring, one of the final pieces to her costume. Leaning against her bathroom doorframe, you watched as she finished getting ready, trying - and failing - not to be so much of a Debby Downer. Normally, you weren’t against accompanying Nat to these events, but it had been a long day. All you wanted to do was go home. Instead, you had dressed up in a cliché, itchy cat costume you had found last minute in a thrift store downtown, and had shown up at Nat’s door, pairing your costumed with a forced smile.

Tony Stark had decided to throw a masquerade work party for Halloween this year and had stated in his e-mail that he hoped everyone would make an appearance. Although you had been tempted to spend the evening handing out candy at your mother’s house in the suburbs, Nat had convinced you that Captain Rogers - Steve as he had insisted you call him on multiple occasions - would be there as well and that it would be a perfect opportunity for you to stop pining over him and actually do something about your crush. Now that you were all dressed up and the party was already getting started a few blocks away, you weren’t so sure about any of it.

“We both know I’m never actually going to make a move,” You tugged on the hem of your costume, trying to make it longer than it actually was, “And even if I did, you know he never shows up to this kind of thing.”

Her lips curled into a wicked grin, “It’s not my fault you’re into a centenarian who’s too old to party.”

“When you say it like that, you make it sound like I’m into old men.” You laughed, staring at her elegant yet somehow distinctly peacock dress.

You wondered if she knew exactly how stunning she looked.

“You are into old men,” she extended her arm so you could tie the clasp on her bracelet even though you knew perfectly well she could have done it herself. Still, you were thankful it made you feel useful while you waited, “Or at least one old man in particular.”

You rolled your eyes, having trouble keeping the smirk off your lips, “Age is just a number.”

“I don’t see why you haven’t talked to him,” she paused, sifting through her makeup bag, “He’s not scary or anything.”

“Says the former assassin who’s been friends with him for years now. I’m not like you guys remember? I’m normal.” You scoffed.

The humour vanished from her face, “Anyone working for Stark isn’t normal.”

“Are you telling me that Janitor Bob has a special skill set I don’t know about?” You raised a brow, trying to get her to see your point that you weren’t in the same league as any of the Avengers, regardless of the fact that technically you all worked with Tony Stark in some form or another.

Every once in a while, you wondered how you had gotten to be friends with the infamous Black Widow. She was one of the Avengers - she had saved the world. You were one of Stark’s no-name employees in the IT department who, more often than not, worked regular 9-5 hours. Sure, every once in a while you were called in to help out on certain missions, but in general, you didn’t live in the same world as the Avengers.

The only reason you had met Nat at all had been because you had been the one to get her out of a particularly sticky situation, hacking into Hyrda’s security system and disabling their communications systems. She had found you when she had gotten back and had taken you out for drinks as a personal thank you. Since then, she had become your closest friend, but it still shocked you a little when you really thought about it.

“What I’m trying to say, (y/n), is that working in Stark’s IT department, after being hired for hacking through his security system for fun, doesn’t make you normal.” She insisted, an eyelash curler clamped tight around her lashes.

Even if you didn’t quite believe her, you shrugged, knowing you couldn’t change her mind, “Fine, so I’m not normal. But that still doesn’t make me special enough for a guy like Captain America to notice me, right? To him, I’m just the woman who fixes the problems on his laptop about once a week.”

“He’s really the biggest dork,” she repeated for probably the hundredth time since she had discovered your crush, “He doesn’t notice anyone much. He’s all about work. And like you said, this really isn’t his kind of thing.”

You stared at her incredulously, “Then why am I even going? You said he’d be there! I should just go back to my apartment and have a nice a cozy night in with a cup of tea, a soft blanket and my lap top.”

“Trust me, he’s going to be there. Maybe not for long, but he will be there.” Her lips pulled into an encouraging smile, “And you’re coming to keep me company. It’s good to feel normal every once in a while.”

You raised a brow.

“Just because we’re not normal doesn’t mean we don’t want to take the weight of the world off our shoulders for the night. That’s why Tony throws these things after all.”

“You know nothing Tony Stark does can be considered normal.”

“As close to normal as we can get,” she laughed, zipping up her bag, “And it’s not like we’d have it any other way.”

“Fine,” you groaned, pretending not to notice how gorgeous she looked as she titled her head from side to side, looking for imperfections in her makeup, “But I still look stupid.”

Nat turned all her attention on you, making you want to cower under that intense gaze, “That you do,” she amended, a wide cat-like grin spreading across her lips, “But I have something that’ll fit you much better.”

Steve combed his hair back, looked over at Bucky, and then sighed. It seemed that after all that had happened to the guy, Buck was still ten times better at the the whole social thing than he would ever be. He liked that he had managed to keep a hold of the part of himself that would always be that skinny kid from Brooklyn, he just wasn’t too sure how much help that part of him would be tonight. He’d take a bully and a fight over any one of Stark’s parties any day. How Bucky had convinced him to go tonight, Steve still couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s Halloween.” Bucky replied when Steve voiced his concerns, “You show up in a mask for an hour and then leave. No one notices you’re gone because everyone’s too busy getting drunk to pay attention to who’s behind the mask, but everyone is pretty sure they remember you being there.”

Steve looked down at his mask, almost afraid to pick it up. “Don’t you think it’s a little ironic that we’re all dressing up to go to a masquerade party?”

“I think that was the point,” Bucky shrugged on his tux jacket, “He did say he did say a ball cap and sunglasses didn’t count as a costume tonight, remember?”

“He did?” Steve unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, suddenly finding it hard to breath.

Bucky secured the mask around his face, white and silver framing blue eyes. “I’m pretty sure you were at that meeting”

“I might not have been paying attention.” Steve confessed, “I had a flight to catch right after and a mission to get to.”

“Of course you did,” Buck let out a sigh that was a cross between amusement and disappointment, “It wasn’t like you actually thought you’d be going to a party tonight. Now that you’re here though, you should work up the courage to talk to that girl from IT you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of.”

Steve fumbled and dropped the cuff links he was attempting to secure, “What? I do not.”

“Sure.” Buck’s lips spread into a knowing grin, “Whatever you say.”

Steve stared at his friend, a little mesmerized that he was getting back to normal so well. The bags under his eyes had lessened in the past months and over all he seemed happier and just a little more awake. It would never completely go away, but the fact that Buck was trying so hard made him sigh and say through gritted teeth, “One hour. That’s all.”

“That’s all I can ask from you buddy.” Bucky chuckled, “Anything more would probably kill you.”

Steve looked back down at the mask and tentatively picked it up as if it might transform and a attack him. He was kind of hoping it might. At least then he’d be more comfortable with it.

“It doesn’t feel like me.” He grumbled.

Bucky shot him a daring grin over his shoulder before walking out the door. “Well that’s the point isn’t it? It’s a costume party.”

“Stop fiddling with it.” Nat scolded, swatting your hand away from your mask.

By the time Nat had found the black dress she was looking for, had coaxed you into it, and had made it up the sky rise, the party was in full swing. Colourful costumes and intricate masks hid hundreds of party goers, while upbeat music resonated through the air and through your chest. The massive ballroom, taking up the entire 50th floor, had cobwebs hanging from the chandeliers and other Halloween decorations strewn across the room. A thin layer of smoke hung just above the ground, and although it was all a bit tacky, you supposed that was the point.

The decorations might have resembled a slightly higher budget version of your high school’s Halloween dance, but the costumes were stunning and in a league of their own. When Nat had pulled out the dress for you to wear, you had been surprised by how much you liked it. It was beautiful yet subtle, though not something you’d have ever bought yourself. The material was soft and unrestrictive, the lacy cape-like wings just apparent enough to consider the dress a costume. Complete with the thin, golden bat mask and maroon lipstick, you had liked what you had seen and had found yourself smiling for the first time that night. Maybe you would go up to Captain Rogers - Steve - and talk to him about something other than work.

Now that you were among so many other incredibly gorgeous party goers, you weren’t so sure about anything anymore.

“You look really good, trust me.” Nat continued, giving you a comforting squeeze.

You forced a smile and tried to be brave about this whole thing, “We look really good.”

“That we do,” Nat scanned the room until her eyes landed on the bar in the far corner, “Now, let’s go get a drink. Something that’s toxic green or has gummy eyeballs floating in it.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, but you were genuinely amused by her excitement. Although she was usually in a teasing mood, it was nice to see her getting excited about something so inane. It almost made you suggest organizing a board game night once a month at work to get people’s minds off of some of the horrors they’d seen, but you kept your mouth shut. They all had so many other important missions to go on, the idea felt silly in comparison.

Following, you wove through the crowd on her heels, pausing as she said hi to a few people in passing. Some were completely recognizable, the mask and costume unable to completely hide their distinct size or look, but others were as recognizable to you as strangers. Honestly though, you stayed holed up in IT so often that the odds of you having actually met them were slim to none.

“What do you want to drink?” Nat shouted over the music, gesturing to to the bartender.

You shrugged, “Whatever you’re having!”

She nodded and leaned over the bar to order. You glanced around, fiddling with your dress and knowing too well that you wouldn’t be able to hang around as Nat’s shadow all night. You’d have to mingle eventually, but you couldn’t spot any of your coworkers from IT who might have made the prospect less terrifying.

Maybe all you’d have to do was hang around for an hour and then you could call a cab home. Or maybe even walk home. It was a surprisingly warm night and you didn’t live far.

A hand on your arm snapped you out of your dreams of escape, and Nat handed you a pink drink with the gummy eyeball she had promised bobbing merrily on the surface.

She leaned in close, a sly grin on her lips, “Now, let’s go see if we can find those two, hundred-year-old dorks.”

“This whole not being able to get drunk thing is a bit of a bummer, isn’t it.” Bucky said, handing Steve his third beer of the hour.

“At least you didn’t have to find that out after having watched you die.” Steve mentioned before taking a long swig of his beer.

“Woah, that’s a little dark for a party there, buddy,” Bucky clapped him on the back, “And anyways, didn’t Thor have something that ‘wasn’t meant for mere men’?”

Steve shook his head, a smile growing. It was impossible not to find Bucky’s light-hearted mood at least a little contagious.

“He’s not hard to find. The bear over there is clearly him.”

Bucky nodded, scanning the room, “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious who’s wearing what costume.”

“Yourself included?” Steve asked.

The white suit jacket with silver lining, black dress pants and intricate wolf mask might have hidden all but piercing blue eyes, but there was no mistaking who wore the costume.

“Yeah, like mine.” He answered automatically, still searching the room.

Steve peered in the general direction Bucky was looking in but couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. If he was lucky, his friend might have sensed something amiss and they could leave the party.

“What are you looking for?”

The words seemed to snap him out of his hunt and Buck dragged his attention away from the crowd, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Steve echoed, not quite sure he believed him.

“Nothing.” Buck affirmed, “Just taking in all the costumes”

Steve let out a dissatisfied humph, figuring he’d know what Bucky was really looking for by the end of the night.

“Well don’t you boys look ravishing.”

Steve smiled, Nat’s voice a comfort among the unfamiliar faces hidden behind masks.

“Natasha,” Bucky dipped his head in greeting, a funny little smirk on his lips, “You look stunning as always. How many weapons do you have stashed in those magnificent feathers of yours?”

Her lips pulled into a wicked grin, “No less than you have tucked into that dashing suit of yours.”

“It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t.” He amended.

“We both know only one of us actually needs them though.”

“And we both know very well who that is…but maybe we should test it out on the mats tomorrow just to be sure.” Bucky answered, a goofy little grin on his lips.

Nat nodded, her lips pursued as if trying to contain a genuine smile.

Steve watched the whole interaction, something tugging at the back of his mind, telling him that he was missing something, but before he could figure it out, she turned her attention to him.

“Steve, I’m surprised you actually made it. Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

An amused chuff escaped his lips, “It is, but sometimes you got to make an exception. Or so I was told.”

“I’m glad you did. There’s someone I want to introduce you to-“

“Nat, I told you, I’m good.” He interrupted.

Buck coughed and Steve shot him a look that only caused his smirk to widen.

“I’m not looking for anything,” he insisted, “Seriously.”

She searched the crowd for a second and sighed, “Fine. She ran off anyways.”

“I know you’re only going to let it go for tonight, but I appreciate it.”

The music slowed and people started pairing off. Steve watched them all, thankful for the change. Slow songs meant that it was beginning to be acceptable to leave.

“Steve, you’re not leaving now, are you?” Nat asked as he began to inch away from where they were standing.

“No, I’m just going for out for a breather.” She shot him a skeptical look she had every right to throw his way. “I’ll be back. Why don’t you dance with Bucky while I’m gone? By the time the song ends I’ll be back.”

Something flashed through Buck’s eyes and he tried to run his fingers through his hair but was stopped by the mask he clearly forgot he was wearing, shrugging instead.

Nat shrugged as well, an unfamiliar look crossing her face so quickly Steve thought he had imagined it. “What do you say soldier?”

Bucky nodded, looking like he was at a loss for words and extended his hand.

She took it, “Let’s see if you can dance better than you can fight.”

He chuckled, loosening up a little before leading her toward the rest of the dancers, never once taking his eyes off of her.

Steve figured he had just gotten permission to step out for a bit and beelined for the balcony.

You were glad for the fresh air. When Nat had begun weaving through the crowd, claiming to have spotted Steve and Bucky, you had made your escape. Even if you hadn’t actually gotten a glimpse of them, the prospect of seeing the two soldiers outside of a professional work environment terrified you to your core. You hated to admit it, but you had literally run away.

Your breathing had finally slowed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the cool comfort of the night’s silence. You hoped Nat would stay inside and have a good time. She deserved to and you had a feeling there had been someone there she had been hoping to see, though you weren’t skilled enough to have figured out who.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was out here,” A deep voice broke the silence as if you had conjured him from your daydreams, “I’ll go back inside.”

Your whole body had gone rigid at the sound, but you blurted out, “Not that’s okay. It’s a little crowded in there but I think there’s enough room for the two of us out here.”

“If you’re sure you don’t mind…” He trailed off.

You forced yourself to turn around, knowing it was impolite and more than a little strange if you kept talking out at the skyline.

Of all the masks you had been expecting on Captain Rogers tonight, the only one you hadn’t was the one he was actually wearing. The costume he wore could only be described as one thing; the prince of darkness. He looked like a fallen angel, his inky suit blending in with the darkness around him, the intricate black mask painstaking beautiful against blue eyes. The top buttons on his shirt were undone and his pale hair a mess on the top of his head as if he had been running his hand through it all night.

You didn’t know if he had been the one to choose the costume or if someone else had, but whoever had chosen had apparently wanted to kill you by stopping your heart.

Long, confident strides led him to the balcony not far to your right and he shot you a polite smile before staring out at the city. It took everything in you to tear your gaze away from him and look out at the skyline that now paled in comparison to the sight beside you. The silence grew and you knew that the longer neither of you said anything, the less likely you’d think of something relevant to say - not that you had any more of a clue what to say now. You were about to turn away and leave him in peace, but it was as if Natasha was in your head, ordering you to stay.

You let out an annoyed sigh and glanced over at him. He seemed content with the silence and probably didn’t want to be bothered. Nat’s voice in your head told you that you were making up excuses.

“Long night?” You finally asked.

He let out an amused little huff, “You could say that…this kind of thing is not something I really do often.”

“So I’ve heard,” You shrugged a small smile on your lips, “If it makes you feel any better, it’s not really my thing either.”

He cocked his head, as if trying to figure something out, “That why you’re hiding out here?”

“You could say that,” You parroted his words, hoping he would never figure out it was him you were trying to avoid, “I seem to be much better at dealing with computers than real people.”

“If you don’t mind me saying” He cut himself off and looked back out at the skyline.

You took a step forward, more than a little curious, “What?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “If you don’t mind me saying, you definitely look the part. You don’t look like you belong anywhere else than a stunning Halloween party.”

You weren’t too sure if it was a compliment or not, but the words caused the butterflies in your stomach to take off. “Then I guess we’re both pretty good at blending in. That costume is a long way from the red, white and blue spandex.”

He chuckled, “Was it naive of me to think I could go unnoticed tonight?”

“Honestly?”

He nodded.

“Yes,” You kept your eyes locked on the horizon, “You’re a hard person to miss Captain Rogers.”

“Call me Steve.”

“Sure.” You answered, the same way you did every time he asked you to call him Steve.

The silence stretched until felt his eyes on you, and you realized he was staring.

You slowly turned your head to face him and raised a brow.

“umm, yes?” You weren’t too sure what else to say, all you knew was that you wanted to know why he was staring. You suddenly wished the mask wasn’t stopping you from reading his expression.

“(y/n)?”

You breathed out a “yes?” surprised he remembered your name.

He let out a laugh of disbelief.

“What?”

“I can’t believe it took me this long to recognize you.” Even in the dark you could feel his eyes travel from your feet to your head, actually taking you in.

You shrugged and wrapped your arms around your chest in a loose hug, “In your defence, I’m not very noticeable.”

“That’s not true.” He shook his head, taking a step closer.

You scoffed, “If it wasn’t for your reputation, I’d say you were lying Captain Rogers.”

“Steve,” His voice was a deep command that sent shivers down your spine.

“Steve” You echoed.

“Good,” The corner of his mouth curled slightly, “Can I let you in on a little secret, I.T.?”

You nodded, only able to watch as he took another small step closer, the gap between your two bodies only a couple feet.

“I figured out that computer ages ago.”

“What? Wait. What? I…” You couldn’t say anything coherent, his answer not making any sense.

“Yeah…I liked having you come up once a week.” He was so close now you could smell the spicy scent of his body wash.

“Why?” You whispered.

He shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Oh…yeah…of course,” Your heart fell, knowing there was no way he could have the same thing in mind that you did, “you don’t know…”

“Well…maybe I do,” He paused, plucking one of Nat’s loose feathers from your shoulder, “I just don’t know if it’s a good thing to say aloud.”

You tilted your head up to get a better look at him, to try and see past the mask. The whole conversation was confusing you, but you couldn’t step away, as if you were magnetically drawn to him, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

His lips spread a little further into something almost dangerous, “Because I don’t know what it would mean if I did.”

You sucked in a deep breath, trying to slow your pounding heart. This was it. If there was ever a time to be bold, it was now.

“Who says you have to say anything at all?”

His hand snaked its way to the back of your neck, and before closing the distance, whispered, “That’s a very good point.”

The kiss was firm but gentle, his lips moving and guiding yours. You slid your hands up his strong chest, your fingers wrapping around the lapels of his jacket and tugging him even closer. He took that as a sign to deepen the kiss, his other hand traveling to your hip, fingers pressing firmly into the material. It only made you try to get even closer, but you had to know what was going on.  

Breathless, you broke the kiss and leaned back to look into his bright eyes, “umm, right…wow, okay, umm, what? Should we go back to the party?

“How about we not.” He all but growled, pulling you back in.