#ive already been job hunting for weeks but i either never hear back or get rejected

[kurthorton-moving]

rip 2 my goals of going to the eras tour it looks like our rent is gonna go up

[ronnytherandom]

I forgot to watch content all week so i wrote about games ive been playing

9/2/2021: The Truman Show

You should fear your fears but embrace them and use them to guide you into the unknown, to explore and experience what life has to offer. Fear stands between you and the fullest experience of life so you must pass through it to better yourself. Heed not the walls built about you and the chains made to hold you. Though the architects insist it will preserve your life, containment is anathema to life. Do not take in faith the benevolence of powers that be; instead trust those who would support and liberate you, guide you through fear and into life.

As best I can lay it out, I think this is the philosophy of the Truman show but there is so much more to read into it also. There is critique of systems of commodification and celebrity (i.e. capitalism) reducing human beings to a consumable good as well as encouragement to find and pursue your goals despite adversity and even sensibility which is also tied to the illusion of economic responsibility. You can’t put a camera inside a human head, you can never “know” them without being an active and intrinsic part of their life, but also there is need for reciprocation. If one half exists with ulterior motive then the entire relationship is rotten; sincere humanity is what creates real connections. Without such your world is fake. A world built around one person is a world where no one can truly live. All these actors have given up basically their entire lives for the sake of watching Truman have his life built around him by outside forces, have allowed themselves to be commodified and dehumanised for the good of one man, Christoph. The man at the top has delusions of grandeur and thinks only of his own bottom line, he cares not for his subjects but simply wants them to do as he tells them because it benefits him to commodify their lives and interactions. Even then he cannot stand to lose control and in seeking to demonstrate Truman’s “realness” he structures his life so thoroughly that eventually there’s no reality left, only a script and adverts. But the people watching still empathise with Truman because everyone in the working class understands what it is to be trapped because real life is our own Truman show and one day we must all pass through fear, step out of the dome and create a real life for ourselves outside of the system of commodification which consumes everyone’s life and removes all realness and sincerity and emotional catharsis from it.

I unreservedly love this film.

14/2/2021: Assorted Game Reviews

Horizon Zero Dawn (Unfinished due to technical issues, 45 hours inc. parts of Frozen Wilds): This game is really cool and really fun. I think it is defined by its incredible setting which somehow creates a fresh feeling post-apocalyptic environment. Said environment creates intriguing alt-future lore and some very interesting environments to explore. I love the machine designs (especially tallnecks!) and was very sad to hear one of their contributing artists passed away recently but I’m glad their work lives on in this visually stunning game. I’m a sucker for Ubisoft-style open world games simply because it tickles a certain kind of itch and somehow this non-Ubisoft game has outdone Ubisoft on their own formula, which is hilarious, but also good for me as running around this world exploring and clearing map markers is engaging fun. Not least because of the combat. I have a minor criticism here that the combat feels slightly awkward on mouse and keyboard, the arrows never seem to go where I’m aiming, but aside from that the experience of fighting is a grand one. Enemies never lose their threat and I love the weak spot system the game employs which makes every tool useful in niche circumstance and rewards curiosity. It specifically manages this in a way that I feel the Witcher series could learn from if it ever returns; by making head on assault less viable and encouraging tactical hunting. I do feel this system makes hunting robots so fun that by contrast hunting humans becomes a chore however, though I noted this improves in the dlc with the addition of humans with elemental weaknesses limited in number as they are. I cannot speak for the story in entirety but what I encountered was pretty good, though I feel as if it was only just really getting going at the point where I could not continue. I find Aloy to be a compelling and well portrayed protagonist and though I can guess about her origin and the ultimate end of the alt-future apocalypse I still want to see how it plays out on screen, so will return to this as soon as I’ve fixed it.

Rimworld (122 hours. Familiar with but do not own Royalty Expansion):

Rimworld is one of those super special games that I don’t think I have a single problem with. Fair warning it can be brutal and is heavily dependent on RNG but this allows it to create truly unique and interesting scenarios on a constant basis. In the wider perspective it could be described as formulaic, with regular cycles of managing the settlement between raids and random events, but the devils in the details. Colonist traits, health and skills dictate how you play and sometimes you’ll be forced to adapt as some colonists simply refuse to perform some tasks. The depth of health particularly amuses me, in that each little part of someone’s body is modelled in a way. If you’re in a firefight you may take a single bullet which grazes your finger and you’re fine. Alternately it could pierce your human leather cowboy hat, your skull and kill you instantly and the game will tell you exactly what happened. The risk/reward element is addictive enough, and that’s without accounting for just how cool it is to see your colony slowly expand. Establishing more and more options for crafting is fun and shows off the full range of different items in the game which is fucking extensive. Between clothing, weapons, armour, sculpture and drugs to name only a few you have the opportunity to create many varied production lines either for your colonists or to trade for money and there is a lot of fun to be had here as well as it is quite satisfying to see psychoid you have grown personally become the cocaine your colonists snort to help them stay awake on limited sleep. From an archaeologist’s perspective it is especially cool to look back over your base and see the hints of how and why structures were built and remember the history of your limitations and development through structure. I think the lore of the universe is really cool too, a very 40k-esque kind of place except with far less order, somehow. But the universe does an excellent job of feeling alive and moving constantly on both a planetary and interstellar level. You can fully believe that while you build wooden shacks to shield yourself from terrifyingly low temperatures there are simultaneously rich pieces of shit living it up on the glitterworld that’s one system over. The music does an excellent job of creating the wild west frontier atmosphere the game cultivates to great effect. Ultimately, for just being a grid with a series of different numbers attached, this game does a fantastic job of creating a compelling, brutal and very real colony management experience. I dont think I can properly put into words the grandness and scope of this one. I didnt even mention the modding scene, which is expansive and tailors to basically any need you could have. The Rim is a terrifying place but theres so much fun to be had.

Factorio (86 hours, mostly 1.1): Having completed a game of Factorio I can tell you reliably that this is one of the best games ever made, thoroughly addictive and fun. If you like numbers, logistics, TRAINS, its gonna be your thing. Not to mention its probably the only documented case of a game with no bugs (so far as official forums are concerned). Strictly speaking this games combat is not the most engrossing thing but good lord do you feel it when you acquire a flamethrower. The way each aspect of the game (production, research, logistics, combat, upgrades for everything therein) feeds into the next is a really well constructed balancing act such that you must experience the full game in order to complete it and I always appreciate this kind of design. I think its one of the best tenets of factory game design especially as its something present in Satisfactory too. Beyond all of this generalised good the game is also excellent in its intricacies, the architecture necessary to build a maximum efficiency base, the level of planning and organisation that can be employed is mind-blowing. Not to mention the mod community, factorion is already an extensive experience and some mad bastards have seen fit to complicate it further, hats off to them. This really is a great moment in gaming.

 Destiny 2 (198 hours, all expansions, played some post Forsaken release, mostly Season of Arrivals onwards, spent roughly £20 on microtransactions):

This is a very interesting and enjoyable experience, but I must say it can be a bit controversial at times. What its does particularly well is moment to moment gameplay and design in all aspects. The game is stunning; between environments, cosmetics, shaders ships and ghosts there’s a vast range of incredible things to see, all rooted in the “pseudo-magi-science” aesthetic it’s got going on. The class design is excellent and you really do feel like you embody this rampaging madman / agile gunman / space wizard archetype, whichever you choose to play. The abilities, especially supers, are very satisfying. Everything has heft and power behind it which can be felt in all aspects of design; sound and animation is top notch. Movement is cool, you can feel how fast you move both on foot and in vehicles and the navigation has a little fun subtlety depending on your class jump, even if you can bounce unpredictably occasionally. But for the love of god why is the wall kick in there? It has only ever served to push me from a ledge into a bottomless pit. You're looking to remove antiquated content? Start there. Some guns are not so good to shoot but there’s such a great range of guns that are fun its like complaining about one drop in an ocean; and enemies are fun to shoot at, each faction distinct in meaningful ways and presenting an effective challenge. Speaking of oceans, that’s one way to describe the lore. I haven’t dived too deep but it keeps going down forever and everything I’ve read is intriguing. As a former Elder Scrolls lore nut this is something I could definitely sink my teeth into, though its much more of a pulpy sci-fi vibe than a pure nonsense vibe. I do think the game has a bit of a loot problem, primarily in regards to the conflict between high stats and looking good. This should never be a conflict, and yes you can apply ornaments to any purple gear but that’s not enough when I spend the entire time grinding power levels and thus must change armour and weapons on a constant basis to progress. This game needs a true transmog system and if not that, rethink how gear power level works. Perhaps rather than earning new instances of gear you always possess a version of it and the loot you acquire in missions just upgrades your instance to your current overall power level? This would serve to do away with the current upgrade system which I think is a needless additional grind. Perhaps it could be retained in using enhancement cores to empower gear as present but necessitating a whole upgrade module to keep your favourite weapon on hand is kind of painful honestly. There is also at present the issue of sunsetting gear, mildly controversial to say the least. If it’s necessary to streamline the game and make it function moving forward so be it but surely loot pools should be adjusted so you can actually get useful loot from older locations? And why sunset personal instances of gear which can be acquired at the regular power level anyway? I had to throw away my favourite bow and hunt down a new version of the exact same weapon for… what reason? I do think destination navigation leaves a little to be desired also. I get that having a physical hub world is meaningful but Destiny does not have a very extroverted community; I can count the times someone noticed me in the tower on one hand. And its not even like there’s fun activities to be found in the same sense as say Deep Rock Galactic, which really does take advantage of its hub. Perhaps for players who simply want to go about their business all of the vendors could be set into a menu system where just clicking an icon takes you to their menu from anywhere in the system rather than, per se, having to go through an entire loading screen (Which takes you to orbit and back) to reach a location which serves simply as the front for four menus. These are established player problems. As a dedicated PvE player I can say that this game is immensely fun in combat and growing in power does feel really good. It’s something I recommend getting into, there’s just some very large creases that need ironing which the Bungie should really take the time to address rather than pushing out new in game content every three months.

[pochapal]

I hate doctor 11 but ive never been able to explain why in like words lmao. He feels like such a mary sue character imo and like theres something about his characterisation that was always just really ineffective (like the stuff about fishfingers and custard or whatever it was). Imo i'd love to hear you give top 5 worst things about the 11 era because i rlly just love when it gets torn apart

i hold nothing but a seething contempt and loathing for that man. every time he appeared on screen i felt ready to snap like a riled up chimpanzee in my enclosure. i am frothing at the mouth and overcome with a desire to start flinging heavy objects. this might be incoherent and inconsistent but i started this rewatch in feb 2020 and only finished this week so i got through 11′s episodes last august/september time and i refuse to revisit it to jog my memory or fact check anything i’m saying here because this man does not deserve the space in my mind for that.

the first thing is i can’t fucking STAND the quirky whimsy timey wimey bit he has going on all of the time. i can’t even say this is because this is a kids show and i was a teen and then adult when i first properly watched him but actually!! when i was eleven years old i’d sleep over at a friend’s house most weekends and it always coincided with the airing of a new season 5 episode and i remember we watched the finale with the dumb time hopping to get out of the box prison that was never explained and didn’t make sense and i thought at the time “this is really stupid”. and before that my only other doctor who exposure was watching the david tennant christmas specials with another friend and throughout childhood my only opinion on doctor who was “this is a tv show that is not for me but is one that all the boys i am friends with like so i will put up with it to maintain our friendships” but at least those episodes were both suspenseful and engaging enough to keep me watching all the way through. like who the fuck does an end of the world sci fi plot and approaches it with an “oopsy woopsy i am a funny little alien man who is going to stop you all by making you do a hecking silly” like it’s unneeded and self-parodies an already cheesy show to the point where it becomes unwatchable and makes it impossible to ever take this man seriously.

next thing that downright sucks ass so badly is the stupid fucking overwritten constantly escalating plotlines. like everything from season 5 up until his regeneration at the end of season 7 is meant to be this grand interconnected cosmic plot about how...the doctor trying to bring back his planet will end the universe or something so all the top powers across all of reality tried again and again to stop him from doing that except he doesn’t know what’s going on so he keeps thwarting these people who supposedly mean good?? i mean i sure don’t fucking know what they were trying to say!! like for some reason we never get the doctor suddenly becomes this superdemon that threatens everything so these people (whoever they are) decide to, in sequence: suck him through a time rift to erase him from existence, trap him in a prison and remake a universe without him, take his companion’s baby and turn her into a perfectly trained doctor killer, form two(!!) secret societies to hunt him throughout history that are only stopped by his companion splintering herself across his personal timeline to protect him, and repeatedly cause reality collapsing events because it’s a kinder outcome for the universe than what he will do. this grand and terrible event turns out to be...he spends a few hundred years chilling by a rift that leads to his home planet and protects a few generations of children from monsters which convinces them to give him infinite regeneration power then fuck off back to their pocket universe. and it’s like!! what is the point of anything that happens in this man’s era when everything is always “the darkest moment” or whatever the fuck!! i don’t care!! we never get a compelling reason to believe this bumbling clown of a man could ever be a universal threat!! the whole thing is so dumb i hate it!!!

thing number three i hate is how the eleventh doctor is ALSO characterised as this abrasive egotistic male supergenius to the point where he becomes genuinely indistinguishable from bbc sherlock. genuinely who enjoyed seeing this guy constantly tell people their tiny human minds can’t comprehend what he’s doing and then basically just wave his magic wand to solve whatever problem each episode is facing. 2012 is the year of human sin because this fucking shitsmear character archetype somehow became both a redditor role model AND a tumblr sexyman and it’s like!! nobody is enjoying this stop making this seem cool! him saying timey wimey thing any time he does anything is frustrating and dumb and locks the viewer out of giving a fuck about anything that is happening! smartest man in the room syndrome is a disease and the eleventh doctor is terminal with it. like remember how they established river as an accomplished scientist (when she wasn’t being a child soldier or a time paradox or whatever the fuck) and every time that came up mr doctor eleven man was like “oh this thing is obvious because i’m a genius and you didn’t realise because your brain is tiny so get out of the way and let the grownups think” or that time it turned out amy had been replaced with a slime clone for half the season and the doctor chewed rory (audience surrogate) out for somehow not realising this fact we didn’t know right from the start and like. this served no purpose other than to draw into severe question why the doctor is also this super beloved magical figure implicitly trusted by all children everywhere like. mr steven moffat is totally allergic to writing and solving mysteries in his tv show and fuck you for wanting to figure things out as you go along based on the new evidence you uncover at strategic plot intervals just let this asshole man use magical thinking to reveal he knew the answer all along and you’re a fucking idiot for not also realising this thing which had no basis or precedent anywhere else in the show.

speaking of dumb things let us not forget the absolute shitshow that was minority representation in this era. i’m not even talking about the low hanging fruit of how genuinely unironically sexist amy and clara were written where each episode moffat either seemed to loathe them or was incredibly horny over them and they had no character growth or arc or fucking anything. i’m talking about how fucking shit terrible the incidental representation was. god remember how every single fucking gay person who appeared in this era was written as one incredibly fucking stupid joke and how the women were all either sexy dominatrix, feeble girl in love, or Mother (or all three in some really terrible cases) and i’m not qualified to talk about this but also how incredibly white this era was and how on two separate occasions we had monarchs reimagined as sexy girlbosses with a gun played by black women who the doctor leched over. nothing about any of this was good ESPECIALLY coming off the back of rtd who was surprisingly forward thinking for 2005 and did a really good job of positing travel with the doctor as queer allegory. in comparison moffat gave us THE MOST heterosexual shlock i’ve ever had to endure. amy and rory could have been interesting characters were they not hemmed into this domestic bickering young straight married couple bullshit that was in no way changed or altered by traveling with the doctor except for the quasi incestuous river song reveal that was dumb and bad and stupid.

the last major mega gripe i have with the series is moffat’s fucking jingoistic boner for british military aesthetics. this carried over throughout his entire tenure as showrunner but was super terrible vomit inducing in eleven’s era. the unironic admiration for ww2 britain and winston churchill is downright wretched. are you incapable of telling a second world war story outside of churchill’s london and plucky blitz fighters. shit gives me hives so badly. and then!!! that weird church owned army that features in the future that end up being bad not for the concept of what basically amounts to an imperialistic intergalactic rendition of the fucking crusades but because they’re part of the nonsense go nowhere puzzlebox narrative that says the doctor is a not good man who will do bad things to the universe :(. remember how rtd’s doctor was a freshly traumatised man hot off the war criminal press who time and time again vehemently refuses to engage in military violence, but who tragically inadvertently turns every one of his companions into soldiers in his own personal army, and he has this moment of complete horror at the realisation and it is this which causes the downward spiral that ends in 10′s regeneration. and then how there’s this cringe line about how there’s a force of people who are “the doctor’s army, always ready to fight his battles when he’s not around” or some shit and then it turns out this is actually massive literal military operation and we’re meant to celebrate this. fuck off.

bonus round because this needs to be said but i have never hated anything like i hated that fucking human tardis episode. everything about it induced violent anger in me from the sickening overindulgence of that softgoth dark whimsy helena bonham carter tim burton aesthetic to the bafflingly terrible evil carny stereotype of those junk scavengers to the overblown sudden tragic shipbait romance of human tardis and the doctor. every word out of her mouth was trite shit and the fact that the death of her body was presented as this super emotional dramatic scene despite there being no buy in or incentive to care and the fact that every single person on tumblr in 2012 ate that shit up like it was fucking gourmet. i loathe every single thing about that episode so much.

[fictionalsadist]

Redoing this post without the cut line because I can’t figure out how to get rid of it on the original. based of this prompt from @write-it-motherfuckers

Kaiba bros from Yugioh with the tiniest dash of implied Prideshipping. Hope you all enjoy.

The faint sounds of muffled celebration could be heard through the walls, the sounds echoing through the lonely halls of the mansion even with the great distance between them. Despite the noise and just how many of them were gathered here, Mokuba knew he had little to worry about. They were a cocky bunch, assured of their own victory, and all very very drunk, he had checked.

As Mokuba finally arrived in the hall he had been searching for, he took a moment to rest against the wall, the weak irregular pounding of his heart sounding in his head as he dragged in shaky rasping breaths. Far too long Mokuba had been forced to sit aside and watch his “family” do unspeakable things in the name of “God”, too weak to take an active roll in stopping them. He had done little things to sabotage them, not that they knew, but there was so little he could do when he weren’t even strong enough to leave the house.

After what they had done this week however, Mokuba could no longer stand aside. They had always been vicious and cruel, using God as an excuse to do unspeakable evils. Their most recent hunt, had led them to capturing a family of peace loving vampires, two parents with three half vampire children. They intended to bind the parents and children, and force them to watch each other burn for their “sins”, the sin of existing.

It was the final straw for him, hearing how gleeful they were over something so deranged. So here he were, pushing his fragile body to a point you knew he wouldn’t be able to return from.

Shakily, Mokuba pushed yourself upright again, feeling some of the pain in his chest fade slightly. With trembling hands, he carefully opened up the secret door to the cells below, and made his way down the dark stairs. There were others that his family had caught, two werewolves, a witch, and one other vampire, who had been here even longer, your family having captured them a few weeks back.

He had been too powerful to be executed in the way they wanted to immediately, and so he had remained down here, being fed only enough to keep him alive, or in the vampires cases, not at all. Mokuba had always done what he could for those locked away down here, but this time he had gotten help. Two of the kitchen maids had ended up being witches, having gotten jobs here simply to help the other witch escape.

Mokuba had discovered what they were instantly, having always had a strange ability to feel a beings true nature, and approached them carefully. They had been wary at first, but soon began helping him. With their help, he had managed to bring food down to the prisoners once a day while his family were otherwise indisposed. Though they had no human blood to offer, (his body far too weak to be of use and the witches outright refusing for reasons of their own) they had managed to keep the vampires fed and strong with pigs blood, in preparation for their escape.

The witch, Ishizu, had warmed up to him first, having trusted Mokuba the moment he passed along the message from the other two. After her, the werewolves (Tristan and Otogi) had slowly come around, able to scent his lack of deceit when he answered their questions. Even the family of vampires had warmed up to Mokuba quickly when he had gently calmed and soothed their children, the family having separated the little kids from the parents, just to fulfil their own amusement at their suffering.

The only one who Mokuba was unsure of, was the lone vampire. He had been there the longest, and you still remembered the loud celebration they’d had after they had finally captured him, as well as the casualties. He was their biggest catch, and his power was why they were so wary with him, wanting him as weak as possible before they tried to officially kill the creature.

He was definitely an intimidating image, one glance from him enough to have anyone fearing for their life. You could tell that he was on an entirely different level to anything the family had ever dealt with before, and something told Mokuba that it would take very little for him to break out. For some reason though, he remained.

Unlike the others, the vampire had never spoken a word to him, watching him silently and intently with his blue hellfire gaze. Despite his silence, he had never made a move to harm Mokuba, remaining perfectly still whenever he arrived, his gaze following him like a physical touch until he had once more left, often with a light flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with his weakened state.

Shaking away his thoughts, Mokuba stepped into the room, smiling weakly at the children as they perked up at the sight of him. Seeing the keys in his hand, the rest of them perked up as well. Carefully, Mokuba went to the children first, unlocking the cell door and then carefully unbinding each of them, frowning at the sight of the burns around their tiny ankles. Next came the parents, who instantly gathered their children close once they were free.

Silently, he let them have their moment, knowing they needed to calm their children and themselves if they were going to escape properly. Soon enough he had the witch released, who thanked him before heading to the far wall that he had pointed out. The two werewolves practically tackled each other once they were free, nuzzling each others necks as they cried, soothing their inner wolf with the knowledge that they were no longer separated from their mate.

Suddenly, pain flared in Mokuba’s chest, and he subtly leaned against one of the cells, trying to ride out the wave of agony that overtook him. Once it had calmed enough, Mokuba opened his eyes and looked up, freezing as he found himself meeting the knowing gaze of the one vampire he had yet to free. In that moment, Mokuba could tell that he knew.

He was dying.

Pressing his lips in a firm line, Mokuba shakily straightened himself , determinedly making his way over to the final cell. He had known what would happen if he continued to push himself when he’d first started this, had known just how close he was to pushing too far. It was unlikely he would live to see the morning, but Mokuba couldn’t find it in him to be upset about it, not when his death would undo at least one of the families many many wrongs.

As the lock on the cell door finally clicked open, Mokuba looked up, not entirely surprised to see the vampire standing directly before it, free of his bindings as if they had been nothing but a mild inconvenience. Eyes locked with his, Mokuba pushed the door open for him and stepped shakily to the side. Behind him , he could hear the quiet sounds of the wall crumbling away at the hands of the three witches, the three of them quickly hugging as they were finally reunited, before beginning to guide the others to freedom using the path you had taught them about.

“Go… “ Mokuba whispered, unsure why he lingered.

The tall brunette vampire knelt down next to him. He stared deep into Mokuba’s eyes. “Go! You don’t want them to find-” Seto sswore softly and sliced his wrist open. Mokuba watched in a panic as the vampire brought the bleeding wound to his lips. Mokuba pushed it away “I don- wanna be a vampire…” he protested weakly.

“You already are. You’re a halfling like me. I should have known that they weren’t feeding you. I know the blood of our own kind isn’t great but it will keep you alive long enough for me to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere we can have you feed properly.” Seto pleaded. “Come on Mokie. Drink…for me…”

Something about the strange nickname echoed inside him as the vampire strode forward. Making him recall a soft smile, warmth and safety. Something that Mokuba never felt with the Schrodinger Hunter Clan.

“Drink.”

It was too soft to be a command Mokuba realized. It was almost as though Seto were begging him.

The nickname and the look of desperation in the normally stoic vampires eyes made Mokuba drop his hands and drink from Seto’s open wrist. The liquid acting like a key to the door of his own locked memories.

He was Mokuba Kaiba. He had been taken away from his elder brother by the Schroeder’s who had though they were “saving” a human child. Except he was a half vampire and with out regular blood he would have died soon enough.Mokuba fed until Seto took his wrist away and tucked him back to his chest. “There. Now let’s get out of here before those morons realize we’re gone.”

Seto scooped his little brother up into his arms and Mokuba found himself clinging to Seto’s shirt as they hit the night air outside of the crumbled wall. “I refuse to leave you behind again Mokie.”

Mokuba happily fell asleep against his brothers chest

“What the hell were you thinking?!” yelled a voice from outside the room. “You went off half cocked without a plan and no back up-”

Mokuba jerked away and found himself woke up in a large bed. Big enough for like 4 full grown adults to sprawl in without touching one another. He was warm and wrapped in blankets with an IV hooked into his arm giving him a steady infusion of blood. Mokuba looked around the room he was in, which could have fit three of the his bedroom back at the Schroeder’s. On the small bedside table sat a plush stuffed silvery white dragon with angry blue eyes. He reached out to stroke it’s soft fuzzy head

Seto’s voice drew him back to the conversation outside of his room. “Come off it Yami! Don’t pretend that you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing if it were Yugi or Atem-”

“At least I have a bond so at least someone would know where I went!” Yami’s voice snapped.

Mokuba couldn’t see either of them. The door was far enough away that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them word for word. But it was like he’s been wearing glasses that dimmed his vision and ear plugs for years. Now everything was sharper and even the dim lighting of the room was bright enough that he could see every detail of the ornate furniture.

“You should have at least left a note or something!” Yami shouted at Seto “You got your answer from Gozaburo and ran off! He was dead before anyone else found him! What if you had died Seto?!”

“Like they could have-”

“That is not the point Seto! What if you had? You and I both know that hunters have access to things that could kill even you. If they had killed you, darkness forbid, no one would have been able to find Mokuba. No one else could have saved him. Pretty stupid move for the Head Strategist! What did you expect me-the kingdom to do with you gone….” at the correction Yami’s voice softened, almost defeated.

Mokuba wondered for a moment what kind of relationship they had.

“Okay. Okay. I get it. Next time I’ll leave a note.” Seto said in a teasing tone.

“You had better because next time you pull a stunt like this I will lock you up.” Yami told him.

“I would love to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Yami chided.

There was something in Yami’s voice that Mokuba couldn’t quite place. He didn’t get long to think about it because someone knocked on the door. Out of habit Mokuba hastily laid back down and closed his eyes to feign sleep. He heard the door open and footsteps approach his bed. Mokuba opened his eye to just thin slits so he could watch Seto replace the blood bag. Then he sat down on the bed and brushed the hair out of Mokuba’s face.

“How are you feeling” Seto told him gently calling his bluff. Mokuba opened his eyes the rest of the way.

“I’m kind of tired. But I feel better than I have in a long time.” Mokuba told his brother opening his eyes. “Who was that?”  he asked referring to the stranger.

“Oh. That was just Yami. He came over to put his two cents in one my actions.” Seto told him.

“He sounded worried.”

“Yeah. Well being the brother to the King make you do that.” Seto answered frowning.

“But-”

“Hush.” Seto chided “You should be sleeping. My room is just down the hall if you need-”

“Seto?”

“Yes?”

“Stay with me?” Mokuba asked. Seto smiled down at him in a soft fond way that Mokuba had the feeling only he would ever get to see. Seto pulled off his boots and curled up behind Mokuba on the bed. He snagged the little dragon and handed it to Mokuba, wrapping his arms around the pair of them.

“Welcome home little brother.” Seto whispered to him softly.

[maggiemaybe160]

The Secrets That You Keep

Read on Ao3

MCD WARNING

Dean stares at the dish that is in front of him. Sam had decided to try his hand at cooking and it doesn’t look half bad, but Dean had been the family cook for more reasons than just that he was older. He has to know what is in his food.

* * *

Dean was thirteen the day he found out he was allergic to shellfish. The school cafeteria had been serving shrimp poppers and after just one, his mouth had begun to feel a little funny. It only took two minutes for his throat to close and for him to hit the pavement of the schoolyard. He had been picked up from school by an ambulance, though he wasn’t conscious for it. His dad’s phone was called, but he was too busy on his hunting trip to bother picking up when it was no doubt about his son picking a fight. He had no one else.

He had woken up in the emergency room with an IV in his arm and an oxygen mask over his face. A nice doctor with a kind voice asked him a series of questions after changing his mask out for a nasal cannula. He was informed that he had a severe allergy to shellfish. It was all explained: what kind of foods to stay away from, what an epipen was if he could afford it, and to inform people around him so that he could stay safe. Then, he was asked to call his dad.

“I can do that,” Dean said. He was left alone in the room with the phone. He made a show of picking up the phone and dialing numbers. As soon as they were gone, he got out of his bed, pulling out the IV carefully, and pulled on his clothes.

He checked around the door to make sure no one was looking and he left the emergency room. Dean made his way to the bus stop and got on, still feeling weak and extremely tired. His throat was clear, but his body ached. He stepped off the bus in front of Sammy’s elementary school. He had a half hour before school was let out.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist asked as Dean walked into the front office.

“I’m just here to pick up my brother. Can I wait here?” He was too tired to fight her right now or wait outside on the lawn like he normally did. She gave him an odd look and nodded, her lips pursed making a sour face.

He half fell, half sat into a chair and rested his head in his hands, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He was allergic to shellfish and no one in the world knew.

Dean was fourteen when he stole his first epipen from a classmate at school. It had been easy, what with the thing just there in the open backpack between Dean’s desk and the other kid’s. Dean didn’t even know his name. He’d only been at this school for a week.

He took the pen without anyone noticing and shoved it into his own backpack that was empty save for the old paperback copy of Slaughterhouse Five that he was reading. He let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, suddenly feeling safer for having the epipen in his bag.

“We’re leaving,” John said, waking his sons in the middle of the night.

“We’ve only been here a week,” Dean protested as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looking through the dark to find his dad packing.

“Don’t argue, Dean,” John ordered. Dean’s spine snapped straight at the command and he bit his tongue to keep from saying Yes, sir!

“Come on, Sammy. Wake up.” Dean nudged his baby brother. Sam blinked blearily and sat up. Dean got out of their shared bed and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth before packing the toothbrushes.

“God dammit, Dean!” John swore in the next room. Dean froze and peeked out of the bathroom. His dad was holding his backpack and the epipen. “Do you know how dangerous it is to steal this? Someone could die because of you.”

Yes, Dean knew how dangerous it was to not have one. He felt his heart slamming in his chest, not daring to look away from the one item that he desperately needed in his life… just in case. He kept his mouth shut as his father yelled at him about how their job was saving people, not stealing their much needed emergency medication.

When they piled into the car, the epipen didn’t follow. Instead, it was left behind in the dingy motel room that had been booked under a false name. He knew, as they drove away, that he would never be able to have one ever again.

No one knew about his allergy and he avoided the foods without raising alarm by saying he didn’t like seafood. John rolled his eyes, but accepted it. Sam never said a word. No one asked questions and Dean never had to explain himself.

The only person who ever caught it was Bela Talbot, who had faked a fainting spell in his arms as he made sure the food he was about to eat was crabless. She’d never mentioned it, and for that he was thankful. He wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t know that she was the only other person who knew that he had a food allergy, or if she was being decent to him for some unknown reason. His secret died with her when the hellhounds tore her apart, dragging her down.

* * *

Now, Dean sits in the bunker, looking at his food, waiting for Sam to join him. Sam takes his seat and grins, picking up his fork and pausing when he notices Dean isn’t digging in.

“What’s in this?” Dean asks, trying to make his voice sound like he’s mock skeptical as not to raise suspicion.

“Just eat it. I’m not going to poison you,” Sam laughs and takes his first bite. Dean takes a breath and swallows the last words with his first bite.

He stands up and closes his eyes as the strange tingling in his mouth starts. He doesn’t have a lot of time. He shouldn’t have eaten it.

“Dean?”

“Here’s the keys. I need you to drive me to the hospital.” Dean drops the keys onto the table as he feels his throat getting tighter.

“De-”

“Tell them I’m allergic to shellfish,” Dean gasps.

“You’re not, though. Are you?” Panic rises in Sam’s voice, but Dean is out of air. His knees go out from under him and his head strikes the table as he falls.

Sam picks up his brother, praying to Castiel aloud though they haven’t seen him in weeks. Blood is already dripping from Dean’s head and Sam is sure he isn’t breathing.

“Cas, please, I know your bond or whatever is with Dean. This is for him. I need you. He needs you. The closest hospital is over a half hour away and Dean’s not breathing. Cas, help.” Sam grunts as he runs through the bunker with his dead-weight brother in his arms. He tries not to think as he puts Dean into the backseat of the Impala.

“My brother is allergic to shellfish,” Sam says as he drags Dean into the Emergency Room. A flock of nurses surround him and someone brings a gurney. Sam is shoved out of the way as Dean is given an IV and a tube is stuck down his throat.

He had managed to make the thirty five minute drive in fifteen minutes, but he didn’t know if it was enough time. Dean is wheeled away from him and finally, Sam breathes out a shaking breath.

A nurse brings him a clipboard of questions and tells Sam that they don’t know when he asks if Dean’s going to be okay. He’s handed a pen and asked to answer the questions. Yesterday, he could have filled out a paper like this without problems. Now, he wonders how much Dean had hidden. He hadn’t even known his brother had a severe food allergy.

* * *

“Cas, please,” Sam’s voice fills Castiel’s head. “I know your bond or whatever is with Dean. This is for him.” Cas’ heart stops in his chest. “I need you. He needs you. The closest hospital is over a half hour away and Dean’s not breathing.”

Cas smashes into the bunker, too worried and filled with dread to focus on an easy landing. The kitchen is empty. The table has two plates of food and a smear of blood on the edge. The floor has a small puddle of blood to match.

“No. Dean!” Cas yells.

Cas is pulling on his white doctor’s coat when Dean is rushed through the doors. He turns and sees his hunter with someone bagging air into his lungs and someone else pressing a bandage to his head. They are running and Cas follows.

“He’s not responding!” someone yells and Cas tries to break through the throng of healthcare professionals. If he can touch Dean, he can save him.

A monitor is hooked up and it immediately starts alarming.

“He’s gone too long without air.”

“Is he still bleeding?”

“Get me a ventilator!”

“IV is in!”

“Dean,” Cas breathes.

“He’s crashing!”

Cas pushes harder and is only met with more resistance. Someone drags him and a few other people away from Dean’s bed as his shirt is cut away from his body and a cart with paddles is brought in.

“Charging! Clear!”

Cas watches, his heart screaming as Dean is shocked with no result. The shock comes again. Cas can’t hold himself back. He shoves the others out of his way with strength that belongs only to an angel. They fall to the floor as he rushes to Dean, shoving the paddles and the others away. He holds Dean’s face in his hands and realizes he’s crying as he tries to heal his hunter.

“Dean!” Cas screams and the cart with the paddles burst, the box holding the electricity bursting from Cas’ energy.

Sam drops the clipboard as the lights flicker. He hears Cas, though it’s nothing he’s ever heard from Cas before. He’s sobbing. “Dean!”

The lights burst and Sam covers his head with his arms. He finds himself running as the nurses try to stop him, but nothing can stop him. He’s sure he’s listening to Castiel call time of death and the cause was his cooking.

He stops short in the doorway. Every medical professional that had been around Dean when they’d taken him away are on the floor. Some of them are broken, others passed out. Standing over Dean is Cas. His hands are pressed to either side of Dean’s face and his forehead is touching Dean’s. His tears fall onto Dean’s cheeks as he sobs.

“He’s allergic to shellfish,” Sam manages to say. It’s the only thing he had been told to say and now he can’t find any other words. He feels cold and numb.

“Dean.” Cas says his name like a whispered love story and a promise. He sounds broken and lost. Sam feels himself start to cry.

@blueeyesandpie @telefuckies @royalrowena @ain-t-bovvered @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @adventurous-blob @deanwinchesterswitch @righteouscomeuppancejogstheliver @ultra-trash @qenericqueer @castibella-shipper-of-the-lord @destielhoneybee @k-lewis @thekingofselfloathing @skittles-rainbow-cat @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @spn-thot @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @destiel-honeypie

[vinylackles]

the story

word count: 4,367

requested by: anonymous

summary: this is a bit of backstory about sam and the reader, from their proposal (towards the end of season 11) all the way to their honeymoon! 

a few of my other fics [ring and the cabin] are kind of involved in this fic (the timeline for ring, and the actual cabin if you’d like to read them as well, though you don’t have to :)

all my works || request imagines here

the push:

Dean had been on his ass for weeks, and Sam had gone out to the store to buy a new duffle bag simply so he would never have to share one with his brother again. He wasn’t supposed to find the box, but he hadn’t stopped prying, and today was no exception.

“If you’ve already got the ring why don’t you just ask her already you chicken,” Dean had said as soon as he walked into the kitchen.

“You’re right Dean, I’m so sorry for not taking your advice, considering how many successful proposals you’ve done. Oh wait, that’s right...”

“Alright, low blow,” Dean grumbled, sipping at his coffee. They fell back into the tense silence that had been over the bunker for the last few weeks. They knew, with Amara lurking out there that they were going to have to act, and soon. 

The aching fear in Sam’s belly about what would happen when the time did come to face the darkness wasn’t helping his tolerance either. 

“Sorry. I’ve just got more important things to worry about right now,” Sam mumbled, turning back to the book he had been scanning before Dean interrupted. 

“No you don’t,” Dean countered. Sam only lifted his eyes to roll them. “Seriously Sam, you shouldn’t be puttin’ all this crap above your personal life.”

The younger Winchester had to stifle a laugh.

“Uh, where have you been for the last 25 years of our lives? That’s what we do Dean, that’s what all hunters do. You stow your crap and you do the job. And right now, the job is Amara.” 

“I can handle Amara. It might not be pretty but I can handle her.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Sam murmured, frustration growing. Dean was silent for a while, and it put an odd tension back into the room. 

“Sam.”

“What.”

“Sammy look at me.” There was an aching vulnerability in his brothers voice that Sam couldn’t deny even if he wanted to. He looked up, marking his spot in his book. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve been on your ass lately, about proposin’ and all that. It’s just, I think I see the end of this road, with the darkness and everything. I think I know - I think we both know how this is gonna end, and I know how screwed up I got all those times that you were... gone. I just want you to be happy. Once I’m gone.”

“Dean, stop it.”

“Just hear me out, okay? I know I’ve always been the one that said we keep hunting, that we could never stop. I gave you crap for leavin’ me in purgatory and going after your normal apple-pie life. But I want you to know, that if this ends with me on a pyre, and you wanna walk away.... that’s okay with me. You’ve more than earned it, and besides, you’ve got somethin’ more important to care about now.” 

Sam’s throat was too tight for him to answer, and thankfully, Dean didn’t wait on one.

“That girl of yours, she’s somethin’ else Sam. I knew it from the minute you found her, and I couldn’t think of anyone better for you. I mean that. She’s basically a little sister to me, and you two deserve each other. You deserve to be happy Sam. I know that’s not easy, with what we do, so if you need to throw in the towel, you can.”

“Can you save the death bed speech Dean? Please? You aren’t dying over this, I’m not gonna let you,” Sam’s voice cracked on his brothers name, giving him away.

“We’re all gonna die eventually little brother. And you’ve gotta make the best of it while you’re here. From where I’m standin’, it looks like the best of it for you is in the shower right now, blaring that song she’s been playing all week.” He chuckled a bit, the sound of Y/N’s music a dull murmur in the background. “So could you do your big brother a solid and lock that down, for good, before I end up walkin’ into something I’m not sure I’m gonna walk out of? It’d give me some peace of mind.”

Sam just nodded, unable to say anything around the lump in his throat. But when Dean clapped him on the shoulder he reached up and caught his hand, squeezing tightly.

the proposal:

It was only three days after his talk with Dean, and he hadn’t planned on doing it then. He’d run through a thousand plans in his head, and eliminated them all one by one. Rent out a stadium - too over the top. Just ask her one morning - she deserved more than that. Get her a puppy and put the ring on the collar - tempting, but they couldn’t take care of a dog. 

And so he’d decided that it would be whenever it felt natural, and preferably before anything major happened with Dean and the darkness. He could give his brother what he asked for - it was the least he could do. It wasn’t like he wasn’t planning on doing it soon anyways. 

It started when Y/N had climbed into bed, still fully clothed, and cuddled up to his side, resting her chin on his chest. She looked up at him through her lashes while he read his book, a tell-tale sign that she wanted something.

“Hi baby. Whatcha need?” He asked.

“I want ice cream.” She grinned, hopeful. He couldn’t resist that smile, and she knew it too.

“I think we have some vanilla in the freezer. But you want Mosley’s, don’t you?” He knew her order at the local ice cream shop by heart. 

All she did was smile sheepishly as an answer, scooting up the bed to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Let me get my shoes on.” He kissed her again before getting up and heading to the closet. Y/N snagged one of Sam’s flannels and threw it on with the shirt and leggings she was already wearing.

“I’ll get the keys from Dean, meet you in the garage!” She gave him one more peck on the cheek before bounding out of the room, obviously excited for the inevitable ice cream.

When she was gone, it struck him. Maybe tonight could be the night. So he pocketed the ring quietly in his jacket, trying not to focus on the weight of it against his chest. 

He almost forgot about it, no room for much else in his mind when he saw her perched on the hood of the impala waiting for him. She was just mindlessly scrolling through her phone, perfectly relaxed with no idea what was coming. He didn’t want it any other way.

“Ready beautiful?”

“Mosleys here we come!” Y/N exclaimed, hopping down off the car and moving to the passenger side. Sam had barely gotten in before she slid over to lean against him, nuzzling up to his side like she always did when it was just them. 

“You’re so comfy. How can you be so muscley and so comfy at the same time,” she mumbled, her cheek squished against his shoulder. He just laughed, wrapping his right arm around her and kissing her forehead. 

When they got to Mosleys, she stayed in the car. Sam was good enough friends with the owner to ask for a special favor, and he walked out with both their favorites in a small styrofoam cooler filled with dry ice. 

He could see Y/N’s eyes squint in suspicion through the windshield as he got to the car.

“What’re you up to Winchester?” She asked as soon as his door was open.

“It’s a surprise. You know, those things you hate?” 

She squinted her eyes even more, scrunching her nose in the most adorable way. He leaned over the cooler and kissed her softly, bringing her out of her mood, but only slightly.

“I’m just taking my girl on a date, is that allowed?” He teased as Baby rumbled to life. 

“I suppose.” She muttered, moving the cooler to the other side of her legs so she could cuddle back up to him. They drove for about 30 minutes, to a little outlook that sat high above a lake. They’d been there before, but never at night, and as Sam expected, when they got out the sky was spattered with some of the brightest stars he’d ever seen. 

“Woah,” she whispered as she got out of the car, eyes wide, cooler in her arms. Sam popped the trunk, silently thanking his brother for the fact that there was still a blanket in the back. He spread it out over a patch of grass, motioning for Y/N to come join him. She sat down while he unpacked the ice cream - the man had given him pints of each of their favorite flavors on the house once he’d told him the plan. 

She toyed with the fog that was coming out of the container from the ice, fascinated by it as it disappeared in the warm Kansas air.

“It’s even more beautiful out here at night,” she said when she finally looked back up at the sky. Sam passed her the pint with a spoon stuck in the top. She took it happily, scooping some out and pressing it against her tongue. He wasn’t sure how she looked so cute all the time - surely it was exhausting. 

Somehow, while staring at her at that moment, all his nerves disappeared. He was so sure of her, of them, that it seemed silly that he was nervous in the first place. So the next words out of his mouth came naturally, easy as water.

“Do you wanna get married?”

“Duh, you know that,” she said, staring up at the sky.

That didn’t go as planned. 

“I mean, do you want to marry me?” 

“You bought me ice cream and took me to see the stars, who else would I marry?” She mused, still not looking at him. Even when he reached into his pocket and pulled out the box, she remained oblivious, staring at the sky. He took the opportunity to move back a little bit and prop himself up on a knee. 

“Y/N. Will you marry me?” 

“I mean are you gonna give me a ri- HOLY CRAP!” She turned around finally, almost swallowing her spoon at the sight of him there on one knee. 

“Don’t choke,” he chuckled, resisting the urge to reach over and swipe the spoon out of her mouth. She did the honors, letting it drop onto the blanket.

“Sam.” She was breathless it seemed, her eyes flickering between his face and the ring.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, I just wanted it to be the right time. You’re all I want, forever. And I thought we could make it, you know, official? If you’re up for it?” 

That was so not what he was planning on saying. But she didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes holy crap yes!” She practically squealed, tackling him in a kiss. He rolled slightly so his legs didn’t get trapped behind him as he kissed her back, both their smiles bursting through every time their lips parted. 

“You didn’t even let me put your ring on,” he teased, brushing some hair back from her face. Y/N sat up, tugging him up with her so she was sitting on his lap. He picked the box up, pulling the ring carefully out of the velvet and sliding it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, making him smile.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, and he could hear her tears in her voice. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” 

the engagement:

Planning a wedding and hunting weren’t exactly conducive activities.

“Baby, you can stay here if you need to, I know you wanted to meet with that florist,” Sam sighed a bit, watching you pack your bag.

“Flowers aren’t going to do me much good if my fiance is dead in a vamp nest somewhere,” you muttered, tossing an extra change of clothes in and zipping it up. 

“Hey. C’mere.” Sam’s voice was gentle and you felt the tension leave your shoulders as you moved over towards him. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, I’m just stressed out. I want it to be a perfect day,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest as he held you.

“I know. It’s gonna be perfect no matter what, cause we’re gonna be married at the end of the day, regardless. But I know you want it to be a certain way. I just wish it didn’t stress you out so much.” 

“Have you met me? Everything stresses me out.” You chuckled, pressing your forehead into his chest. He laughed with you, hand coming up to run through your hair. 

“Well, we’ve got a few months left before the wedding. What’s left?”

“Flowers. And I’ve got the last fitting for my dress, Jody is coming with me for that. All the guys have their suits, the girls are getting their dresses back from the tailors. We have the cake, we’ve got the rings. Dean’s building the alter stuff.”

“So.... just the flowers then?”

“And the honeymoon...”

You tried again, though you knew it was futile. Maybe, just maybe he’d slip up and give it away. 

“The honeymoon is taken care of, I promise. How about when we get back from this hunt we go to the florist together, yeah?”

“You don’t want to go to the florist, you couldn’t care less about the flowers,” you accused, but it was lighthearted.

“Yeah, but you care, which means I care. Now c’mon, we’ve got some vampires to kill.”

the wedding:

For once, the Kansas weather had decided to cooperate. It was a beautiful day, sun shining over the bunker, a nice breeze keeping it from being too hot. Everything was perfect, and yet you still couldn’t breathe. 

“Y/N? Hey, are you gonna be okay if I leave you here to walk mom down? I can get Cas to do it if you need me to.” Dean's worry was obvious as he slipped a hand under your elbow, as if you were going to fall. You weren’t sure that you wouldn’t.

“No, no I’m okay. Just, uh, hurry back, okay?” Your voice was strained. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous - everything had gone to plan, everybody you and Sam loved were there. 

“You got it. Hang in there.” Dean squeezed you a bit before letting go and moving up the line to let Mary take his arm. You knew Sam was close by, so you stayed hidden in the bunker stairwell. Neither of you had wanted to see the other beforehand, but not having him there with you was probably why you were so nervous - you two had never been the greatest at separation. Music had begun to play, and you knew the processional was moving along.

The alter had been set up behind the bunker, in a little clearing of the woods. There was a path lined with flowers, up to a beautiful alter that Dean had built from some reclaimed wood he’d found. It was beautiful to anyone, not just your biased eyes. You kept yourself hidden, but peaked out just enough so you could see everyone walking down. 

Cas lead, with Claire on his arm. He kissed her cheek before they moved to their appropriate sides of the alter. Next was Jack, who did double time and walked both Patience and Alex down, since Dean was on his way back to you. 

The sight of familiar faces made it a bit easier to breathe. Garth was there, and Donna. Mary was beaming at her son, but you refused to follow her gaze. If you looked at Sam now, you knew you’d start crying. Jody was standing at the alter - she’d gotten ordained just for you two. 

Dean made it back to you quickly, holding up his arm for you to take.

“You ready for this?” 

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s just Sam,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Dean.

“You’re just excited I bet. Sam was shakin’ in his boots all morning waiting for you. I’ve got yah, okay? I’ll get you down the aisle and Sam will take it from there.” 

Something in the familiar cadence of his voice, and knowing that you’d be right there with Sam in just a minute made your nerves cease enough for you to take that first step, out into the light.

You clutched onto Dean’s arm and matched his pace, watching the petal-covered grass underneath your feet. And when you heard the sound of everyone rising from their chairs, you lifted your eyes from the ground.

And there he was.

You’d known what suit he was going to wear. What color his tie was, which flowers would be on his boutonnière. You’d seen his smile a thousand times. But he was beaming, and you could see the tears welling up at the sight of you in your dress.

And it didn’t matter that everyone was looking at you, or that you were crying too. He was there and he was about to be your husband, and you couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

“Easy tiger, it’s not a race,” Dean murmured, trying to slow down your pace. You hadn’t realized you’d sped up so much, automatically drawn towards Sam. Why had you made the aisle so long?

Finally, finally, you got there. Dean kissed your cheek and guiding you up the few stairs that he’d built. You passed your bouquet to Claire, who fixed the train on your dress and then you turned, gazing up at Sam. 

He was still crying, but trying to keep it together a bit more as he took your hands in his. You couldn’t do anything but stare at him, and take it all in as Jody spoke, about love and the importance of it.

You both pulled it together enough to repeat your vows to each other, though the tears were still streaming. Dean handed Sam the rings, and yours settled perfectly on your finger, as if it was meant to be there all along. Perhaps it was. 

You weren’t sure you’d ever heard sweeter words than “you may now kiss your bride”, and you couldn’t help but smile when you felt the cool metal of Sam’s ring on your cheek when he cupped your face, bending down to kiss you. 

It was soft and warm and different somehow. You were kissing your husband, and you weren’t sure you were even going to get over that.

Everyone cheered as you headed down the aisle, back to the door of the bunker that you’d come out of.

You disappeared inside for a moment, pulling Sam with you. As soon as the door closed behind you you were kissing him again with as much fierceness as you could muster, somehow trying to put action to the happiness that was burning inside of you. He obliged, taking your hips in his hands, hands splayed out against the white fabric that covered you. 

It took you a minute to work it out of your system, and you knew that everyone would probably starting to trickle in from the ceremony in just a moment. When you pulled away, you weren’t sure you’d ever felt happier. 

“You didn’t even let me carry you over the threshold,” Sam chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

“Sorry,” you whispered, laughing with him. 

“The stairs will do,” he grinned, getting that boyish glint in his eyes that made your heart warm since the first time you saw it. He scooped you up, starting the descent off the balcony.

“Please don’t fall and break a leg, I know you can’t see those stairs over this dress,” you cautioned.

“Ever the romantic,” Sam teased, kissing your cheek. You reached the bottom at the perfect time, getting one more kiss in before the doors open and everyone began to funnel in from outside. You both waited at the bottom, accepting everyone’s hugs and well wishes. 

When Dean got to you, he took you by surprise, picking you up and spinning you around. 

“Welcome to the family Winchester,” he had said, and it was the first time in a long time you’d seen Dean truly happy. 

The night moved on like most weddings, you assumed. Everyone ate pizza that you’d ordered from the local joint, and there was wine and beer and cake and dancing. You’d pushed all the tables to the walls in the library, leaving the whole space open; a makeshift dance floor.

Your first dance song played from the record player in the corner, and you smiled as Sam held you close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. After that, it seemed everyone wanted a chance to dance with the bride, so you were passed around through the slow songs. Much to your surprise, Jack seemed to be the best dancer of all of them. He later revealed he’d watched some youtube videos on how to slow dance, obviously proud of himself. 

You found yourself back in Sam’s arms again as the night began to wind down. 

“You ready for our honeymoon?” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. 

“How can I be ready if I don’t know where we’re going? You wouldn’t even let me pack my own bag,” you countered, scrunching up your nose at him. 

“You’ll know soon enough. C’mon, let’s go.”  

the honeymoon:

“I knew it!” She exclaimed, making Sam smile as he brought the car to a stop outside the cabin. He didn’t tell her that they were only spending the night there, that in the morning they’d be driving to the airport and heading off to the beach. 

He got out first, moving around the car to open Y/N’s door for her and help her out. She had been so eager to leave and see where they were going that she’d insisted her dress was comfortable enough to ride in. She somehow looked even more beautiful out there amongst the trees, dressed in white, relaxed and completely herself. 

“C’mere,” he said quietly, taking her waist in his hands and pulling her to him. She melted under his touch it seemed, pliant under his lips as he kissed her. She was sweet to taste, and he could feel her smile. With a sigh he pulled away, but only to grab the smaller overnight bag he’d packed for them. 

“We don’t need the big bags yet. Besides, I don’t see many clothes in our immediate future.”

“Oh?” She blushed bright pink.

“As sad as I am to see it go, I am so ready to get you out of that dress. Also, you aren’t cheating me out of my threshold this time,” he grinned, tossing the bag over his shoulder before scooping Y/N up.

“I love you,” she said, breathless as he carried her through the doorway.

“I love you too, wife.” The word felt so natural on his tongue, and the he wished he could keep the smile it brought to her face there forever. “C’mon beautiful, let’s get you to bed.” 

Their shoes were first, and the dress was next. It had delicate buttons along the back, and he fumbled with them, his long fingers getting in his own way as they both laughed through his struggle. When he finally got them undone it fell heavy to the ground, revealing delicate, white lingerie that about sent him to his knees. It took all his self control to move away and hang the dress up on a spare hanger, hooking it over the door of the bedroom. 

He slipped out of his dress shirt, having already lost the jacket and tie back at the bunker before they’d left. He was about to sit back down before he caught the look his wife was giving him. 

“What?”

“I’m only in my underwear... you too. Equal partners, remember?” She teased, quirking an eyebrow. 

He just laughed, undoing his belt and tossing it aside before letting his pants fall to the floor. She gasped, making him panic a bit, looking down at his plain black boxer briefs. 

“What!?” He asked yet again.

“No white lace?! What kinda wedding night is this!?” She faked her exasperation, but she could only keep up the act for a moment before she burst out laughing.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he teased, moving to the bed in a fluid motion, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and lifting her just enough to guide her onto her back.

Everything paused when she winced, sucking in a breath.

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

“One of my hair pins just poked me. I swear, there must be five hundred of them in there,” she muttered, nose scrunched as she looked up towards her hair.

“C’mere, I’ll take em out.” 

Sam guided her back up to sitting, letting her settle in his lap facing away from him as he began to run his fingers through her hair, picking out the pins that were stuck within it. He smiled as the curls began to fall, and she relaxed more and more every time he found a new one to take out. 

His hand was full by the time he was done, and he put them all on the bedside table, running his other hand over Y/N’s sore scalp. She was practically purring under his touch, leaning her weight back onto his chest. He peppered kisses along her skin, up her neck, along her jaw, finally catching her lips when she turned to look at him. 

She twisted on his lap, settling with her legs wrapped around his waist, moulding to him like she always did. 

The night was spent intertwined in every sense of the word, slow and warm and soft, with whispered I loves you and promises. They fell asleep pressed against each other, safe in knowing that it was really the two of them, forever.

leave me feedback and i’ll cry okay

[omeliashepherdhunt]

Leaving Landstuhl pt. 7

It was a new feeling to be the patient instead of the doctor when she got to Grey-Sloan that morning. It was weird and even a little unsettling to Amelia.

“O, will you help me tie the back of my gown?”

“Of course.”

The room was stiff with tension. She would never admit it to him but she was petrified. Amelia wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something happened to either babies. She was also feeding off of Owen’s stress and anxiety over this.

Once Amelia was set up in the bed, it was just a waiting game. One of the fetal nurses would be in to wheel her to the O.R within an hour or two since Robbins was running late in a different surgery.

“Can you come lay with me?”

Owen was apprehensive to do so. She looked so small in the bed, especially with the monitors, wires, and IV all around her.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea...”

“Please. I’m starting to get a little nervous and you help keep my nerves down...”

“Okay. We just need to be careful.”

Amelia felt the bed shift once he laid beside her and he carefully draped an arm across her belly, minding where the monitors were.

“You’re gonna be okay, Amelia. You’ll just fall asleep and wake up with it over. Robbins is the very very best. She will be able to help you and help Mattie.”

“I know. I just want it to be over. I want to be able to go home as soon as possible.”

Owen kissed in between her shoulder blades when he found himself without words and sighed as he took in the scent of his wife. Her conditioner was a fragrant Moroccan oil ��� his favorite of hers.

It had been maybe thirty minutes before Arizona walked into her room, sat on the foot of the bed, and gave one of Amelia’s hands a quick squeeze.

“Sorry, I had an emergency surgery first thing this morning... Now I know you two are worried and stressed. However I was taught by the best and now I’m considered one of the best fetal surgeons out there. This is a small procedure all things considered and you’ll only be under for all of 90 minutes.”

To be honest, Arizona was rather nervous herself. It wasn’t that she doubted her ability to do the transfusion, but it wasn’t everyday your patient is a fellow surgeon and department head. Robbins had grown quite fond of Amelia which didn’t help her nerves. She’d even go as far as saying they were becoming good friends. Not to mention if anything were to go wrong, she had to answer to Owen. While she wasn’t afraid of him, she still hated confrontational encounters.

“The crew is about to come in to wheel you to the O.R. I’ll see you there. Owen, I’ll find you in the waiting room afterwards.”

.

When Amelia started to wake up, she instantly needed water. Her throat was sore from being intubated but no one was in sight. She pushed the call button and waited for a nurse to walk in. However no nurse came. Dr. Steinmetz came waltzing in with his cocky demeanor.

“Look at you. You look amazing, Shep. Pierce will make her rounds but your heart and your daughter’s heart are in tip top shape. You’ve been doing alright?”

“I’m fine. Where is Owen?”

“So you’re still with Hunt?”

“Yup and you’re still with Clara I heard.”

Otto crept closer and closer to her which made the hair on her arms stand up.

“I never thought you’d become a mom. You never wanted a kid when we were together.”

“I’ve always wanted kids, just not with you. I was 5 weeks pregnant when you beat me that night. I took so many blows to the stomach; there was no way that baby would make it. When I got to the motel and went to shower, there was blood trickling down my legs. You killed the baby.”

Amelia felt bile starting to rise up her throat. It wasn’t a side effect from anesthesia. It was due to Otto and talking about what he did to her for the first time ever.

“You selfish brat. Of course you wouldn’t have told me. That was my kid.”

“Your kid that you killed. I won’t apologize for something you did. Get the hell out of my room.”

She was quick to push the emergency button on the remote for her room. She could hear the rapid beating on the machine of her heart beat increasing the longer Otto was in there.

“So feisty. You’re delusional Amelia. You’ll figure out soon what you’re missing out on when your babies are born. Half junkie and half Hunt. What a shame.”

Before she knew what was happening, Otto stumbled to the floor while Owen kept his fist up.

“You’re a fucking disgrace. Stay the hell away from Amelia. I heard everything you said, you sick son of a bitch. Get the fuck out of here!”

Dr. Steinmetz practically crawled out of the room while holding his jaw. Owen immediately ran to hug Amelia.

“I didn’t think you’d be awake so soon. I was walking back here when I heard the signal and saw on the screen it was from your room. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just wanted water.”

“This isn’t your first pregnancy?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

Owen kissed her forehead then moved to pour her some water.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, babe. He was the monster who did those things to you. I’m going to talk to Bailey ASAP about his job. He needs to stay far away from here and from you.”

“I know. I was so scared.”

“I don’t blame you. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Tired. I want to sleep. Everything went well?”

“Yep. Mattie is already showing drastic improvements.”

“Lay with me?”

“Again?”

“Yes. I feel safest with you around.”

Owen’s heart felt warm with her declaration. It was good she wanted him around because he loved protecting her.

[last-flight-of-fancy]

fatedeniedhope replied to your post “* sees people confused over various kh plot points * * is not people i...”

I would like yo know a bit. Only play kh 1 and chain of memories and half way to kh 2

oh boy there is a *lot* to cover here then!

I don’t mean that to sound intimidating, kh just has a tendency for long, sprawling interconnected plots (many of which are still unresolved even now)

i am also doing this entirely by memory, so if i’ve skimmed something i shouldn’t have its because my brain has stopped registering it as important; feel free to ask for clarification, i wrote this in one sitting because i was avoiding doing laundry XD

putting a cut because i am overviewing a Lot of game here and tbh there’s still a lot of stuff i am skimming or skipping entirely. I’m just trying to hit the highlights.

i don’t know where you stopped in 2, so i’m just gonna give a brief overview

-there is a boy named roxas

-he’s being hunted by these strangers called nobody’s

-things get weird

-turns out he’s sora’s nobody, as nobody’s are created when a person is turned into a heartless (which sora did during kh1)

-roxas returns to sora (”looks like my summer vacation is.. over...” whoops there goes my heart) and normal sora gameplay resumes.

-DIDNEY WORLDS

-turns out everyone forgot sora for a year bc of what happened in chain of memories (and also 358/2. dont worry about that yet we’ll get there). kairi sends out a bottle to “the boy she can’t remember” trying to call him home. (yes this is important)

-organization 13 (all what? eight of them left?) pops up, xemnas is cryptic, and they say their goal is to recreate kingdom hearts via sora killing heartless, since apparently only killing heartless with a keyblade sends the trapped hearts to Kingdom Hearts

      -this version of the tale persists through 358 as well. it’s.. half right.

-bla bla bla, shenanigans. there’s ansem (the boss from kh1) and a guy named diz. That isn’t who either of them actually are. It’s actually Riku (who tapped too far into the darkness trying to capture roxas for the whole twilight town scenario at the beginning of the game, thus altering his appearance to look like the guy who posessed him for a bit) and THE ACTUAL ANSEM (ie, the ruler(?) of radient garden before it fell, and the guy heartless ansem stole his name from.

-anyways

-sora goes off searching for riku, bc as far as he knows, he’s still lost out in the darkness.

-he’s not, he’s fine, but he’s super embarrassed about the whole ‘looking like the enemy’ thing and won’t let sora find him.

-sora casually murders most of the remaining organization members (only most of whom shot first)

-this continues on until axel attempts to kidnap kairi, who ends up in twilight town for a bit hanging out with the hayner/pence/ollete trio, before being slightly more successfully kidnapped a second time.

-and then she gets kidnapped again by saix. Axel apologises to sora over this. in his defence, he’s pretty desperate at this point (he just wants his friend(s) back)

-sora storms The World That Never Was, kairi is rescued by Namine.

-the trio finally meets up (namine disapeared at some point? yknow, i actually dont recall what happened to her in between these scenes), sora and kairi share a slightly awkward but sweet hug, and after a moments trepidation over ‘Ansem’, kairi tells/shows him its riku, at which point sora bursts into tears.

-i ship a lot of ot3′s, but sorikai is the OG ot3

-anyways

-namine and roxas have a very symbolic moment refusing with their Other’s, Namine opens a portal back to destiny islands so they can go home.

-everyone except sora and riku make it through, and thus commences several final fantasy style boss fights

-they win, of course, riku’s injured in the line of battle, and they limp out, having traversed several realms during the course of this battle, they’re now trapped on a beach in the realm of darkness. it’s the same beach everyone else seems to end up on in this place. There is only one beach in the RoD apparently

-they stay there a while, and then they pick up a message in a bottle; it’s from kairi, “to the boy she can’t remember”

-Feelings make a door to the light open, and sora and riku fall like actual comets from the sky and everybody’s reunited and happy. huzzah!

-.... well for a while anyways.

-should i get into the whole xemnas/xehanort/ansem thing here?

-eh

-okay so

-lets swing back into Birth By Sleep for a bit

-(im sorry if kh can’t hit any of its plot points in order i think its fair neither do i)

-BBS takes place roughly nine years prior to kh1, with the exception of bbs’s prologue, which i would estimate as being an additional four years prior to that

-during said prologue, we meet Master Xehanort, an incredibly old dude with brown skin, gold eyes, and a white beard. even newcomers to the series will probably recognise that only one type of person gets those colours in these games.

-we also meet baby Ventus, Xehanorts apprentice. He looks exactly like Roxas.

-shenanigans happen, Xehanort splits Ven’s heart in two, creating Vanitas, who is Ventus’s darkness.

-Vanitas’ whole shtick is he wants to be reunited with Ventus, ostensibly to create the X-blade (yes it’s pronounced exactly the same as ‘keyblade’ and yes, every single kh fan ive ever talked to has found this annoying af)

-unfortunately being split in two like that puts ven in a coma, and xehanort takes the unresponiseve body to destiny islands to dump it like unwanted ravioli

-luckily for ven, “a brand new hear” hears his hurt and reaches out to help, filling out the gaps left in his and allowing him to start recovering

-the heart is sora

-actual, literal baby sora reaching out to help people before he can even walk yet. 

-the game never spells this out explicitly, which makes it an easy plot point to miss if you aren’t paying attention

-ven doesn’t recover immidietly though, and xehanort sends him to live with his old friend Master Eraqus and his two teenage apprentices, Aqua and Terra

-here’s where we time skip, ventus is fully recovered, terra and aqua are young adults and about to take their Mark Of Mastery exams for becoming keyblade masters.

-Terra fails because he has darkness in his heart and also xehanort rigged it against him

-aqua passes and becomes a master. I love her very much.

-terra journey’s out to try and figure out where the darkness comes from

-vanitas taunts ven saying terra’s leaving him bc ven’s stupid or something and ven panics and chases after him (he’s like 14 and has a bit of a hero worship thing, stupid decisions are par for the course)

-eraqus sends aqua out to both spy on terra (he words it nicer but thats the gist of it), which aqua doesn’t particularly like but trusts her masters judgement and does it, and bring ventus home, which she is more on board with

-the biggest tragedy in bbs is that no one talks to each other

-stuff happens, they learn some stuff, aqua’s route has So Many Lesbian Feels with every single princess she runs into it brings me great delight

-Ventus learns the whole ‘fight your darkness to become the X-blade’ plot, eraqus learns this too and tries to kill ven. Terra busts in at the last moment and saves ven, at this point using his dark powers fully.

-#terrawasright

-eraqus dies, which i don’t think terra fully intended to do (he just wanted to save ven) and if you recall the scene in kh1 where kairi catches a falling sora only for him to burst into a bunch of floating glitter? imagine that but with two grown men

-aqua’s just trying to figure out whats going on. she gets to meet kairi (saves her from some heartless and then puts a charm on her necklace to keep her safe) and then meets Mickey, who will be our future duex ex machina

-they all meet for the final battle.

-ven asks his friends to murder him

-no one does that

-what the fuck ven

-they fight, and a lot of stuff sorta happens at the same time

-1: terra fights xehanort, who has essentially been spending the whole game prepping terra to be his next host. xehanort is a body snatcher confirmed. xehanort wins, terra becomes the fanon-named terranort.

-2: ventus fights vanitas. vanitas reveals his face, and he looks exactly like a colour swapped version of sora. (also voiced by the same voice actor! it’s actually surprsingly difficult to notice this if you don’t have some kind of clue already because haley joel osment does and *amazing* job). ventus wins, the X-blade is not forged, but as a lot of this battle takes place in his heart, the effects are bad and ven falls into a coma (he reaches out once more, and another hearts answers. “you can stay here a while, I don’t mind” says the other heart. yes its fucking sora again. too good, too pure)

-3: aqua gets knocked out to start with, but then she fights vanitas controlling ventus’ body, which eventually gets sorted out. terra’s dissapeared at this point, and she takes a comatose ven and hides him in the land of departure, which she uses a secret mechanism to turn into Castle Oblivion (and thus, impossible to navigate  without her key)

-aqua goes to hunt down terra(nort), and finds him in radiant garden. they fight, aqua wins, but when he begins to sink into the darkness she sacrifices herself to save him (which is how he ends up as one of ansem’s apprentices and mostly without any memories)

-aqua will spend the next ten years in the realm of darkness

-bbs is such a goddam tragedy

-OKAY

-time to fast forward

-so sora and ven are connected, which is why vanitas and roxas look the way they do, which brings us to

-the case of xion

-and 358/2

-the worst game to play but my absolute favourite in terms of slow-burn pacing and emotionally investing you in the characters

-this game pretty much just deals with the year sora spent asleep, and the kids time in the organization.

-roxas wakes up with no memories, is inducted into the org, and told “kill heartless with your keyblade”. He’s more or less a zombie at first, and accepts this without question.

-a week later, a new member is introduced, named Xion, who also has a keyblade, and is also a zombie with no memories at first

-Axel, the org’s assassin, is basically told to babysit them both

-he’s not really into it at first, but those natural Big Brother instincts kick in Hard about five minutes later and from that point on he’s mostly just trying to keep them both alive.

-oh, also Lea, Axel’s somebody, met Ventus in bbs, so that was probably a little weird for him.

-as the game goes on and these kids essentially learn how to human and try to figure out what makes them different, the Big Plots stew in the background. Axel and Saix have some kind of plan that Axel apparently isn’t sticking to, and Axel questions his loyalties more as the game goes on and circumstances force him to choose between two kids Who Did Nothing Wrong, and his oldest friend.

-Xion learns they are a replica, a la Repliku, created as a backup to roxas if he could not fulfil his duty in creating kingdom hearts. their connection with roxas, and through him sora, has the unintended side effect of flitering memories and feelings into and through Xion.

-this is why putting sora back together takes so long

-Xion, between the pressure of being an org member in general, and the mental load from being caught between three+ people in a very literal sense, has a breakdown. Riku finds them, and despite a pretty rocky start between them, helps them through it.

-Xion leaves at two different points, the first time, Axel brings them back. “please don’t hold back, Axel. Promise.” “Everyone always thinks they’re right”

-excuse me i have to lay down again after thinking about how emotionally wrought this scene is.

-(the alternative is he has to kill them. he does everything he can to avoid that, but it’s clearly approaching an unsustainable situation; the org is running out of patience for dealing with the ‘clearly defective replica’, xion doesnt feel this situation is right, and axel just wants to keep everyone alive.

-yes typing ‘clearly defective replica’ physically hurt me. xion is a perfect bab and xemnas can fite me

-Xion leaves again

-Roxas, learning pieces of this but not all, runs away from the org. cue titular “no one would me” “that’s not true!” scene from 2

-(this leads to what is a hilariously depressing scene of roxas on the clocktower looking at his life and going “where could i even run to? I havent got anywhere to go” because he’s never known anything other than the organization and whoops i made myself sad again)

-namine explains to xion that sora can never wake up so long as they have his memories. The only way for them to release the memories is to die. It’s a hard decision.

-Xion meets roxas on the clocktower, feigns insanity, and goads him into fighting them (”do you see my face, roxas? is it a boys face? don’t you see. I have to make you a part of me too.”)

-cue more ff style boss fights

-xion dies

-look i can’t go into detail on this one i’ll start crying again, xion dies, everyone forgets they ever existed, and roxas gets to watch them shatter into dust in his arms.

-in the brief period where the memories are quickly vanishing but Not Quite Gone Yet roxas goes into a Roaring Rampage of Revenge and storms the World That Never Was

-this is where Riku catches up to him, and from there its a pretty straight shot into the beginning of kh2

-which im sure if you played these in chronological order would be *some kind of mood whiplash* i bet

-okay what have i missed

-recoded happened. the only important part here is that malificent and pete find out about the black box and malificent being malificent of course she Has To Have It

-”but whats the black box??” you ask

-good question

-we still dont know

-its  origin point is in KHUx though, 

-which is the multiplayer mobile game set during the Keyblade War of ages past. each weilder also has a companion dream eater named chirithy

-there are five unions, each headed by a leader and represented by an animal (unicorn, bear, snake, fox, and leopard)

-#anguisforlife

-these five (plus one more, named luxu) are each given roles by their master (the Master of Masters, or also known as MoM). He also tells them there is a traitor amongst the warriors of light. it’s unclear at this point how much of this he is directly steering. He also doesnt specifiy Which warriors of light, probably on purpose so everything happens as it should.

-so figure, trying to figure out who the traitor is is a pretty direct cause to no one trusting each other and eventually going for each others throats

-there is a page from the book of prophecies he gives only to luxu, who he tells that his role is to see the future with this Special Keyblade (and specifically the Eye in it). You might recognise it as xehanorts keyblade (and then you’ll start to see the Eye in a whole bunch of other ones too, notably in soul edge, way to dawn, and void gear)

-luxu fucks off, and everyone else goes about their business

-the first half of khux details how these unions came to  be rivals, and then how they fell into war with each other and destroyed the light. the second half detailed how Ava, leader of the fox union, created a fifth group known as the dandelions, specifically picked to survive the fall of the light and rebuild.

-ventus and lauriam are two of these leaders. No, we still don’t know how they got from one point to the other.

-one of the replacement leaders, strelitzia, got murdered and replaced by someone else. i think this plot point has been resolved in japan but i havent checked yet

-strelitzia is lauriam’s sister. she also knows elrena.

-and if you’re bad at anagraming like i am, lauriam=marluxua, and elrena=larxene

-so yeah figure that one out for me

-also i love strelitzia she has like two scenes total and i was already ludicrously attached help

-(Yes i screamed very hard during that One Scene in 3. we dont even see her face but it’s heerrrrrrrr)

-anyways

-right the black box

-luxu is seen carrying it off in the Back Cover movie as he wanders into exile. we still dont know whats in it. and that’s basically that.

-which leaves just Dream Drop Distance

-sora and riku take a Highly Modified mark of master exam under yen sid.

-things go wrong almost immidietly

-sora gets trapped by the xehanorts in a deep sleep, where they plan to use him as one of their 13 vessels of darkness

-there has to be 13 for some reason

-13 darknesses, and 7 lights, and when they clash it’ll make the X-blade

-because reasons

-it’s fate or something

-riku rescues him

-there is time travel involved now

-because at this point the 13 darkness now include; heartless ansem, master xehanort, xemnas, young xehanort, xigbar, and saix.

-more time travel will be involved later, but to keep this in mind the rules of time travel here are

     -you cannot take your body with you

     -you lose any future knowledge you gain if and when you return

-things are obviously wibbly here because it’s half in the dreamscape, but just. keep those rules in mind when you play 3.

....... im sure im missing a bunch but i just spent two hours writing the most casual pre-kh3 synopsis ever i hope you can forgive me XD

[superfluffysupernatural]

How Could You Series

Part 1: A First Encounter

Relationship: Dean/Reader 

Word Count: 2050

Warnings: smut, drunk sex (both parties), light cursing, mild angst

Summary: A bad hunt puts the reader out of commission for a couple weeks. During this time, you stay with some fellow hunters until you’re fully healed. And another bad hunt results in a one night stand you only regret because you want to avoid attachment. 

A/N: This idea just kind of popped into my head, so I’m hoping I can actually finish this series! 

~Rae (formerly Jordan)

Usually, you were pretty territorial over your hunts. But honestly, if he hadn't come along, you really would have died. Most hunters that chased down the same hunt you did would claim that they saved your life, when in reality you usually saved theirs. You always know when to call someone out on their bullshit and when to accept their help. This was the time for you to accept help. That's why you weren't upset that he saved you. Not at him, at least. You were mostly upset with yourself, for needing someone to save you. And right now, since you were laying on the ground, just about bleeding out from a stab wound, you desperately needed someone to save you. After all, what was killing a nest of vampires worth if they killed you back? Shortly after you beheaded what you thought was the last one, another vamp took your machete and stabbed you in the side. You pulled it out and gave one last swipe, slicing across the vampire's neck, decapitating it, before you collapsed and fell to the ground. A few minutes later you heard footsteps. Cautious footsteps. Human footsteps, hunter's footsteps. "Help," you tried to gasp out, choking on your own blood. "Please," you whined. You doubted you were loud enough for whoever it was to hear you. "Help!" You began coughing, and your vision started to blur from the loss of blood. Suddenly, the footsteps got faster. They were running towards you. You heard the sound of a gun dropping to the ground- something all too familiar to you. Someone tried pulling you up off the ground, though you couldn't see who. But you did hear his voice. "Hey! Hey! Stay with me," he shouted desperately. His voice was rough, gravelly. Been through way too much. "No, hey, come on stay with me. You're gonna be okay." He wrapped something around your wound and then picked you up. You could feel he was going as fast as he could to bring you somewhere safe. "I'm gonna get you some help," he reassured you, his voice shaking as he ran. The next thing you know, you wake up in a cozy bedroom. One in a cabin, you guess. But you're hooked up to an IV, wearing an oversized tee shirt, and your side isn't so sore. You pull back the blanket over you to take a look at your wound. Someone had clearly stitched it up and dressed it properly. There wasn't any blood coming through, which you only assume is a good thing. Just then, you hear two sets of heavy footsteps coming your way. You quickly pull the blanket back over yourself and close your eyes. "Couldn't stop hunting, huh, Dean?" One of the men asks. It isn't the same man that saved you though. While the voice was similar in gruffness, it was older. "You know me, Bobby. Couldn't get out even if I tried," Dean says. Dean is your savior. It's the same voice, less desperate now that you aren't dying in a vampire nest. "Well, I think she'll be alright," Bobby says. "Now that we've got some blood back into her. She should be waking up soon." One of the men leaves the room, you guess it's Bobby. Then Dean approaches you. You feel a hand lift your wrist, you assumed to check that the IV is still in. You choose that moment to open your eyes. Holy shit, this guy is way too handsome to be a hunter, you think when you see him. He's got a strong jawline, some stubble, dirty blondish-brown hair, and beautiful green eyes. "Hey," he says nervously. "Hi," you reply. You don't know what else to say. "I take it you're the one that took down that nest? You don't seem like the blood slave type," he says. You smile. "Yeah, I took it down. Before I almost died... You saved my life." "That's what we do. Save people. Isn't it?" "Yeah, I guess. Not supposed to let the monsters kill you, though." He snickers. "No, probably not," he replies. "You need to stay here for a few days while you heal up. Hope that's not a big deal." "No, you saved my life. I get that. I do need rest," you admit. "What's your name?" you ask. You know it's Dean, but you want to know his full name. Maybe he'll give it to you. "Dean Winchester," he tells you. "Sounds familiar," you say. "Like John Winchester?" "Yeah, you know him?" "No, but I know who he is. I'm [Y/N]. [Y/N][Y/L/N]." "Pleasure. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Just shout if you need anything," he says before leaving the room.

Your wound took a couple weeks to heal, all of which you spent in Bobby's cabin with him and Dean. They welcomed you like family- something nearly all hunters do when they come across one another.

You still lay in bed when there's a knock on the door. "Come in," you call. Dean opens the door with one hand, holding his laptop in the other. "Hey, we uh, found a case a few hours away. Thought that maybe since you're mostly healed up you could come with, help out," he proposes. You smile. "Depends. What kind of case are we talking about?" "Simple salt and burn we think. You in?" You put down the book you were reading and get up off the bed. "Sure thing. When are we leaving?" Dean grins and closes his laptop. "Pack your bag, and we'll head out now," he tells you. He leaves the room while you shove what little you have into your backpack. You would have more, but your car had gotten torched back at the vampire nest sometime between the hunt and when Dean and Bobby tried to go back for it. When you go downstairs and see that Bobby's car is gone, your face sparks confusion. "Bobby not coming with?" "No, he's got some other business he's trying to take care of. But we can take down a ghost with two of us." "Well I mean, I'm sure either one of us could do it single-handed. So why do you want me to come?" you ask. "Guess I just don't like working alone... not really used to it," Dean answers. "You had a partner," you say. He nods. "My brother. But he's uh... out of the picture now. Just me." "Oh," you say quietly. "Well, then let's get to it." You follow him out to the Impala, settling in for the road trip.

Dean was right about the case being a ghost, but it was not at all a 'simple salt and burn'. More like a family of five vengeful spirits against two hunters. Sure you could take care of them, but when they outnumbered you and were actively teaming up against you, it was a little harder. So of course you were pissed at Dean for not realizing it was more than one ghost, especially since he wouldn't let you see the research because he 'had it all handled'. Plus, you got pretty roughed up in the fight, being flung around and what not. Once they were all taken care of, you gassed up the family farm and threw a match in it, telling Dean to step back. After you watched the flames grow in front of you for a few minutes, you turned around and walked away, towards the road. "Hey, where are you going?" Dean shouted. "Away from you. We don't make a good team," you reply. He jogs to catch up to you and grabs your wrist, which you immediately pull away from him. "Okay, I'm sorry," he says. "Dean, you may have saved my life two weeks ago, but because of you I almost just lost it again. You may not be able to work alone, but I can. I can do my job perfectly fine without your help." You could see he was fuming, clenching his fists and tightening his jaw. But you knew it wasn't you that he was mad at. So you turned around and walked away, traveling along the road until you got to the nearest town, to the nearest bar. You were about four drinks in when Dean sat on the freshly vacant bar stool beside yours. "I'm sorry-" "Save it," you interrupted. "I'm not here to talk to you. Or anyone. Especially not about hunting." With that, you downed another glass of whiskey and coke. Your motions and speech were both slurred, and Dean could tell. So he called the bartender over and began drinking with you. Didn't talk, he knew you didn't want to. He'd only had a couple of drinks when he decided it was time for you to stop. You weren't a lightweight by any means, no hunter is, but that didn't change the fact that you had a much smaller frame and you were drinking on an empty stomach. So he threw down some cash to pay your tab and helped you back to his car. Dean knew it was best for him to drive as little as possible, so he found the nearest motel and got a double room for the night. You needed the rest way more than he did. However, you were a stubborn one, and refused to go to sleep. Dean was stubborn too, so he pulled his own personal bottle of liquor out of his hunting bag and sat in the chair across from your bed. About an hour passed, and Dean had gone through almost half the bottle while the two of you stared angrily at each other. "You need rest," he said. "So do you. You're not my babysitter," you retorted. An hour hadn't been nearly enough time for the alcohol you had consumed to leave your system yet. And staring at Dean wasn't helping your 'beer goggles' one bit. You scooted down to the edge of your bed, sitting about two feet directly across from Dean. Dean would never admit it, but he was getting- if not already- drunk. What he would admit though was that he had a weak spot for women, and that he was especially riled up after a hunt gone not too great. You stared at each other for a good few minutes before he caved in to his drunkenness and pulled you in for a rough kiss. Of course, you being you, a hunter that would never find a real relationship and would take sex whenever you could, you kissed him back. Dean stood up and picked you up by your thighs, his lips never once leaving yours. And once you were on the bed beneath him it was over. You knew you shouldn't because you were drunk, but he was drunk too and you were both sexually frustrated as hell, so you didn't say anything. You didn't say anything when the clothes came off. You didn't say anything as he kissed and bit your neck, as he squeezed your ribs, wrapped your legs around him. You just gasped and moaned and pulled his hair and scratched his back as he pushed inside of you. The moment he removed his mouth from your neck, you pulled his face to yours and bit his lower lip, starting a war of teeth and tongues. His thrusts had begun slowly, but gradually got faster, never failing to hit every sweet spot you had. You could tell he was close because he stopped the battle for your mouths and just pressed his forehead against yours and breathed and god, he was hot. You chose that moment to clench around him, and that's how you pulled it out of him. As soon as he was undone, so were you, and suddenly you were both just a heaving pile of limbs and sweat. Being as drunk as you were, the two of you fell asleep almost instantly. But as soon as you woke up in the morning, you took a piss, took a shower, and took your things. The only thing you left behind was a note on the hotel paper that had your phone number and the words, Don't call me unless it's an emergency.

[mystrothedefender]

Wow its been so long since ive written batman joker stuff holy shit. inspired by @gayforbatjokes colour au. i need to edit it and might continue it idk...

Jack’s life was perfect, or near enough.

Indeed there were some bad aspects; He was woken by a screaming baby 3 times per night, his wife would be irritable and snappy during the day from the lack of sleep, as would he. He wasn’t too fond of his job either, he’d never imagined himself as a pencil pusher but the arrival of their little ‘Angel’ James had forced him to take the first job he came across.

It was similar to how things had been with Jeanie. Any thought of that caused a pang of pain and guilt to rush through him, so he tried not to think about it. He saved all that up for his therapy sessions, provided by Harleen - free of charge of course.

As good as their life was there was one thing that always played on Jack’s mind: Harleen, as much as he loved her, as perfect as their life together was, she wasn’t ‘the one’.

You only get one ‘the one’.

Jack’s had been Jeanie.

He’d never told Harleen.

When they’d been together their skin glowed, the world exploded into colour. Losing that, losing her, had been unbearable.

He remembered the day he met Harleen. Shortly after Jeanie had died Jack suffered a mental breakdown, he’d served a short court mandated stay in Arkham’s low security ward, Harleen happened to walk through the front door at the same time that Jack was dragged in.

Harleen had talked about their first meeting multiple times, it was a go to at parties, Jack was drugged and delirious, throwing himself at whoever caught his eye.

“I’ll piss on your grave!” he had yelled at Harleen upon seeing her, a look in his eyes akin to glee, laughing in an odd tone that seemed so desperate.

Harleen had been quite taken aback, of course.

‘I thought it was a shame’ she said when recounting the story, ‘that someone as handsome as him would be so rude.’

Their second meeting was more civil.

Jack approached her in the rec room as she observed the patients, timid and mousey as usual.

In a voice almost a whisper he had apologised to her, he could remember doing everything he did but it wasn’t really him, it was like he’d snapped, the memory of it was like the memory of a film. She’d smiled at him and accepted his apology.

‘But you better find a way to make it up to me.’

It’d been almost 4 years since then. Now they were married with a young boy.

Life was almost perfect.

But he wished he could see his skin glow again.

.

Jack pulled himself out of bed and dressed himself in front of the mirror, his chest throbbing as it always did at the sight of his dull appearance. He smiled as he left the room, hearing Harleen and AJ in the kitchen.

“Please little Angel, stop crying already, it’s been hours.”

Jack stopped at the door, watching them with a sleepy smile on his face, “How are my two favourite kids?”

Harleen huffed, frowning, “We’re both tired. I can’t stop him crying,” she said, a desperate tone to her voice, “Help me out puddin’? He’s your kid too y’know.”

Jack nodded and outstretched his arms, he took the 9 month old from her and began to bounce him in his arms, pulling funny faces in an attempt to cheer him up.

Within a minute the child’s cried stopped, fading into the sweet babbling of a happy baby.

Harleen huffed softly, turning to make her and Jack’s breakfast, “I don’t get it! I do that and it makes him worse.”

“I think he likes my teeth,” Jack said, flashing her a toothy grin.

“Yeah? Well he’s the only one,” Harleen replied, placing two plates of low fat scrambled egg on whole wheat toast on the table.

Jack glanced at the food, letting out a soft sigh as he moved to sit down. He missed having cereal. He and Harleen had agreed to eat more healthily after AJ’s birth, or more he had suggested it and she’d taken him seriously.

Hopefully she’d eventually get bored of it herself and they’d revert to lucky charms and honey nut cheerios.

“Hey,” he said to her quietly as they ate, baby AJ still in his arms. “I’ve got an hour before work, why don’t I take care of the brat and you have a nap?”

Harleen’s face softened a little, “Are you sure?” she asked, suddenly filled with excitement.

“Yeah sure, you’ve been up since what? 5 am?”

She smiled widely, leaning over the small table to kiss his forehead, “Thanks. I feel like I haven’t slept in a week…”

Jack chuckled softly, “Go on, you get your beauty sleep. You let me sleep in, It’d be rude if I didn’t return the favour.”

He watched her shovel the last of her food into her mouth and toddle off towards the bedroom.

Before AJ was born they might take this spare time to be together as man and wife, but that was parenthood, or so he’d been told.

No sleep and no sex.

It was funny, he thought to himself, their child was nicknamed ‘Angel’ but he was the worst baby ever. He’d wake multiple times in the night no matter what they did, if you didn’t pay attention to him he’d scream nonstop. He was nicknamed ‘Angel’ but he was a little devil.

He took after Jack so much. He had the same features and hair type. He was a beautiful little thing.

Jack could watch him sleep for days and it’d feel like no time had passed.

He settled on the sofa after finishing his food and turned on the tv. His eyes darting between the morning news and the baby in his arms.

It seemed that two-faced guy had caused some havoc again and Batman, ever valiant, had taken him down yet again.

Jack couldn’t help but smile at it, it seemed quite funny really, from the outside they both seemed as bad as each other, they both caused property damage, both harmed people. If Batman was after anything but Two-face he’d be hunted down too.

Before Jack knew it almost an hour had passed, AJ was now asleep in his arms, all he needed to do was brush his teeth and he’d be ready for his work day.

After working at Wayne enterprises for a little under a year he finally had a meeting with the boss, Bruce Wayne himself. Of course he’d seen the boss before in video conferences and on tv but he’d not met him in person.

He climbed the stairs to the master bedroom and knocked softly on the door, “Harleen, sweetie-pie,” he cooed as he entered, “I’ve got a gift for you.”

Harleen groaned softly and rolled in the bed, “That gift better not’ve left me a gift.”

Jack shook his head, “No he’s clean. Do you really think I’d be mean enough to do that?”

“Uh? Yes? You’ve done it before.” She sat up in the bed and held out her hands to take the baby.

Jack chuckled, flashing a toothy grin, “I have never done such a thing in my life Harleen, I have more class than that.”

Harleen scoffed, “Sure you do…” She took AJ and waved a hand at Jack, “Go on then, you don’t wanna be late for Brucie.”

“Mr Wayne,” Jack corrected, “If I called him Brucie I’d get fired on the spot.”

“Good!” Harleen smiled, “Then you could look after AJ and I could get some more sleep.”

Jack chuckled, “Hey don’t you call my bluff,” he waggled a finger at her, “You know if you push me I’ll do it, and if I come home with no job we’ll both be screwed.”

“Go then.”

.

Usually Jack smiled all the way to work, he smiled as he brushed his teeth, he smiled as he kissed Harleen and AJ goodbye, he smiled as he began playing his favourite song. He continued smiling as he hit traffic.

‘Accident: delay 25 minutes’

Seeing the sign stopped him smiling.

He let out a hollow chuckle and began tapping his hands on the wheel. He didn’t have time for this… He couldn’t be late to meet Bruce Wayne, he just couldn’t.

There were no shortcuts he could take to avoid a delay.

… He’d just have to own it. He was sure the rest of his team could handle 10 minutes without him.

He sent a text to his workmate and let out a sigh, the smile coming back to his face as he skipped to another song he liked.

It would be ok, he’d just slip in, most likely no one would even notice.

The minutes crawled past as slow as his car did. He could see his workplace approaching.

Maybe it’d be faster to ditch the car and walk?

No, no, that was a bad idea.

Just a few more minutes…

Finally he parked up. 40 minutes late. He jumped out of the car and sprinted towards the building, he used to be so athletic, he wished he hadn’t let himself go so much.

Finally, panting, he entered the lab, gasping for breath. He should have taken his time and strolled in… hindsight is 20/20.

“Finally,” a familiar voice said from the corner of the room. Bruce Wayne.

Jack straightened himself a little, smiling in hello, still panting too loudly to speak.

Bruce Wayne stood on the other side of the room, an attractive hulk of a man, smiling back politely.

“You must be Jack,” Bruce said, walking towards him with long strides, “Your colleagues have told me all about you.”

The man held out his hand.

Jack stared at it a moment before reaching out to shake.

The moment their hands touched something happened…

Jack felt a warmth spread through him, a warmth he’d felt before.

He looked down at his hand.

It was glowing. The pale skin brighter than he’d ever seen it.

He looked back up at Bruce.

Could he see it too?

Judging by the look of shock on the man’s face he’d say so.

“Bruce,” Jack said breathlessly, staring at him.

Bruce pulled back his hand, clutching it to himself for a moment. He continued looking Jack up and down.

“Uh…” The man was stuttering, obviously shocked, as was Jack.

Was this the first time Bruce had seen it..?

Jack felt a twisting pain in his stomach, he wanted to cry, he didn’t understand.

“I have to go,” he said, his voice a whisper.

He turned and ran, shutting himself in the mens’ room.

His heart was racing, tears pooling in his eyes.

This was wrong.

You only get one ‘the one’. And he’d already had his. He’d made peace with that. He’d moved on with his life. He couldn’t handle this. He was happy. He loved Harleen. Their life was perfect.

His breath hitched and he began to sob, the realisation of what had happened filling him, he felt like he was going to throw up.

His memories of Jeanie swarmed to the front of his mind. That warm feeling he’d felt, he’d missed it for so long.

He sank to the floor, holding his hands to his face, he felt so ill…

He wished he was back at home, in bed with Harleen.

He tried to calm himself using the methods Harleen had taught him. He had anxiety attacks sometimes, though they’d gotten rarer in the past few years.

Control your breathing.

Ground yourself.

It seemed to be working.

He’d have to go home though, there was no way he could stay after this, not today.

He’d make up for the missed work by doing overtime on the weekend.

He couldn’t handle this.

.

Leaving the building proved harder than he thought, not physically, that was as easy as signing your name. Mentally though? Jack couldn’t stop thinking…

If he left now…

What if people guessed? Jack could be a skittish person sometimes, he had practically no impulse control, but he never left work without being ill. They needed the money.

A panic attack counted as being ill didn’t it?

But he couldn’t tell them that.

What if someone caught on?

He knew a few people in his office had met ‘the one’, some of them had seen him interacting with Bruce, it might not be hard to guess.

And what about when he got home?

Harleen would ask why he was home so early.

Jack closed his eyes, banging his head against the wall.

No.

He couldn’t go home.

He was too shaken, he couldn’t deal with the questions and the crying baby.

He’d go to the park, have something to eat, enjoy some solitude.

That sounded good.

Slowly he got to his feet, breathing slowly.

He walked to sign out, looking around constantly to check if anyone he knew could see him.

Today was supposed to be such a good day, why did this have to happen?

He was so tired.

.

[fictionalsadist]

based off this prompt by @write-it-motherfuckers. 

Kaiba bros from Yugioh with the tiniest dash of implied Prideshipping. Hope you all enjoy. 

The faint sounds of muffled celebration could be heard through the walls, the sounds echoing through the lonely halls of the mansion even with the great distance between them. Despite the noise and just how many of them were gathered here, Mokuba knew he had little to worry about. They were a cocky bunch, assured of their own victory, and all very very drunk, he had checked.

As Mokuba finally arrived in the hall he had been searching for, he took a moment to rest against the wall, the weak irregular pounding of his heart sounding in his head as he dragged in shaky rasping breaths. Far too long Mokuba had been forced to sit aside and watch his “family” do unspeakable things in the name of “God”, too weak to take an active roll in stopping them. He had done little things to sabotage them, not that they knew, but there was so little he could do when he weren’t even strong enough to leave the house.

After what they had done this week however, Mokuba could no longer stand aside. They had always been vicious and cruel, using God as an excuse to do unspeakable evils. Their most recent hunt, had led them to capturing a family of peace loving vampires, two parents with three half vampire children. They intended to bind the parents and children, and force them to watch each other burn for their “sins”, the sin of existing.

It was the final straw for him, hearing how gleeful they were over something so deranged. So here he were, pushing his fragile body to a point you knew he wouldn’t be able to return from.

Shakily, Mokuba pushed yourself upright again, feeling some of the pain in his chest fade slightly. With trembling hands, he carefully opened up the secret door to the cells below, and made his way down the dark stairs. There were others that his family had caught, two werewolves, a witch, and one other vampire, who had been here even longer, your family having captured them a few weeks back.

He had been too powerful to be executed in the way they wanted to immediately, and so he had remained down here, being fed only enough to keep him alive, or in the vampires cases, not at all. Mokuba had always done what he could for those locked away down here, but this time he had gotten help. Two of the kitchen maids had ended up being witches, having gotten jobs here simply to help the other witch escape.

Mokuba had discovered what they were instantly, having always had a strange ability to feel a beings true nature, and approached them carefully. They had been wary at first, but soon began helping him. With their help, he had managed to bring food down to the prisoners once a day while his family were otherwise indisposed. Though they had no human blood to offer, (his body far too weak to be of use and the witches outright refusing for reasons of their own) they had managed to keep the vampires fed and strong with pigs blood, in preparation for their escape.

The witch, Ishizu, had warmed up to him first, having trusted Mokuba the moment he passed along the message from the other two. After her, the werewolves (Tristan and Otogi) had slowly come around, able to scent his lack of deceit when he answered their questions. Even the family of vampires had warmed up to Mokuba quickly when he had gently calmed and soothed their children, the family having separated the little kids from the parents, just to fulfil their own amusement at their suffering.

The only one who Mokuba was unsure of, was the lone vampire. He had been there the longest, and you still remembered the loud celebration they’d had after they had finally captured him, as well as the casualties. He was their biggest catch, and his power was why they were so wary with him, wanting him as weak as possible before they tried to officially kill the creature.

He was definitely an intimidating image, one glance from him enough to have anyone fearing for their life. You could tell that he was on an entirely different level to anything the family had ever dealt with before, and something told Mokuba that it would take very little for him to break out. For some reason though, he remained.

Unlike the others, the vampire had never spoken a word to him, watching him silently and intently with his blue hellfire gaze. Despite his silence, he had never made a move to harm Mokuba, remaining perfectly still whenever he arrived, his gaze following him like a physical touch until he had once more left, often with a light flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with his weakened state.

Shaking away his thoughts, Mokuba stepped into the room, smiling weakly at the children as they perked up at the sight of him. Seeing the keys in his hand, the rest of them perked up as well. Carefully, Mokuba went to the children first, unlocking the cell door and then carefully unbinding each of them, frowning at the sight of the burns around their tiny ankles. Next came the parents, who instantly gathered their children close once they were free.

Silently, he let them have their moment, knowing they needed to calm their children and themselves if they were going to escape properly. Soon enough he had the witch released, who thanked him before heading to the far wall that he had pointed out. The two werewolves practically tackled each other once they were free, nuzzling each others necks as they cried, soothing their inner wolf with the knowledge that they were no longer separated from their mate.

Suddenly, pain flared in Mokuba’s chest, and he subtly leaned against one of the cells, trying to ride out the wave of agony that overtook him. Once it had calmed enough, Mokuba opened his eyes and looked up, freezing as he found himself meeting the knowing gaze of the one vampire he had yet to free. In that moment, Mokuba could tell that he knew.

He were dying.

Pressing his lips in a firm line, Mokuba shakily straightened himself , determinedly making his way over to the final cell. He had known what would happen if he continued to push himself when he’d first started this, had known just how close he was to pushing too far. It was unlikely he would live to see the morning, but Mokuba couldn’t find it in him to be upset about it, not when his death would undo at least one of the families many many wrongs.

As the lock on the cell door finally clicked open, Mokuba looked up, not entirely surprised to see the vampire standing directly before it, free of his bindings as if they had been nothing but a mild inconvenience. Eyes locked with his, Mokuba pushed the door open for him and stepped shakily to the side. Behind him , he could hear the quiet sounds of the wall crumbling away at the hands of the three witches, the three of them quickly hugging as they were finally reunited, before beginning to guide the others to freedom using the path you had taught them about.

“Go… “ Mokuba whispered, unsure why he lingered.

The tall brunette vampire knelt down next to him. He stared deep into Mokuba’s eyes. “Go! You don’t want them to find-” Seto sswore softly and sliced his wrist open. Mokuba watched in a panic as the vampire brought the bleeding wound to his lips. Mokuba pushed it away “I don- wanna be a vampire…” he protested weakly.

“You already are. You're a halfling like me. I should have known that they weren’t feeding you. I know the blood of our own kind isn't great but it will keep you alive long enough for me to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere we can have you feed properly.” Seto pleaded. “Come on Mokie. Drink…for me…”

Something about the strange nickname echoed inside him as the vampire strode forward. Making him recall a soft smile, warmth and safety. Something that Mokuba never felt with the Schrodinger Hunter Clan.

“Drink.”

It was too soft to be a command Mokuba realized. It was almost as though Seto were begging him.

The nickname and the look of desperation in the normally stoic vampires eyes made Mokuba drop his hands and drink from Seto's open wrist. The liquid acting like a key to the door of his own locked memories.

He was Mokuba Kaiba. He had been taken away from his elder brother by the Schroeder's who had though they were “saving” a human child. Except he was a half vampire and with out regular blood he would have died soon enough.Mokuba fed until Seto took his wrist away and tucked him back to his chest. “There. Now let's get out of here before those morons realize we're gone.”

Seto scooped his little brother up into his arms and Mokuba found himself clinging to Seto’s shirt as they hit the night air outside of the crumbled wall. “I refuse to leave you behind again Mokie.”

Mokuba happily fell asleep against his brothers chest

“What the hell were you thinking?!” yelled a voice from outside the room. “You went off half cocked without a plan and no back up-”

Mokuba jerked away and found himself woke up in a large bed. Big enough for like 4 full grown adults to sprawl in without touching one another. He was warm and wrapped in blankets with an IV hooked into his arm giving him a steady infusion of blood. Mokuba looked around the room he was in, which could have fit three of the his bedroom back at the Schroeder's. On the small bedside table sat a plush stuffed silvery white dragon with angry blue eyes. He reached out to stroke it’s soft fuzzy head

Seto's voice drew him back to the conversation outside of his room. “Come off it Yami! Don't pretend that you wouldn't have done the exact same thing if it were Yugi or Atem-”

“At least I have a bond so at least someone would know where I went!” Yami’s voice snapped.

Mokuba couldn’t see either of them. The door was far enough away that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them word for word. But it was like he’s been wearing glasses that dimmed his vision and ear plugs for years. Now everything was sharper and even the dim lighting of the room was bright enough that he could see every detail of the ornate furniture.

“You should have at least left a note or something!” Yami shouted at Seto “You got your answer from Gozaburo and ran off! He was dead before anyone else found him! What if you had died Seto?!”

“Like they could have-”

“That is not the point Seto! What if you had? You and I both know that hunters have access to things that could kill even you. If they had killed you, darkness forbid, no one would have been able to find Mokuba. No one else could have saved him. Pretty stupid move for the Head Strategist! What did you expect me-the kingdom to do with you gone….” at the correction Yami’s voice softened, almost defeated.

Mokuba wondered for a moment what kind of relationship they had.

“Okay. Okay. I get it. Next time I’ll leave a note.” Seto said in a teasing tone.

“You had better because next time you pull a stunt like this I will lock you up.” Yami told him.

“I would love to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Yami chided.

There was something in Yami’s voice that Mokuba couldn’t quite place. He didn’t get long to think about it because someone knocked on the door. Out of habit Mokuba hastily laid back down and closed his eyes to feign sleep. He heard the door open and footsteps approach his bed. Mokuba opened his eye to just thin slits so he could watch Seto replace the blood bag. Then he sat down on the bed and brushed the hair out of Mokuba’s face.

“How are you feeling” Seto told him gently calling his bluff. Mokuba opened his eyes the rest of the way.

“I’m kind of tired. But I feel better than I have in a long time.” Mokuba told his brother opening his eyes. “Who was that?”  he asked referring to the stranger. “Oh. That was just Yami. He came over to put his two cents in one my actions.” Seto told him.

“He sounded worried.”

“Yeah. Well being the brother to the King make you do that.” Seto answered frowning.

“But-”

“Hush.” Seto chided “You should be sleeping. My room is just down the hall if you need-”

“Seto?”

“Yes?”

“Stay with me?” Mokuba asked. Seto smiled down at him in a soft fond way that Mokuba had the feeling only he would ever get to see. Seto pulled off his boots and curled up behind Mokuba on the bed. He snagged the little dragon and handed it to Mokuba, wrapping his arms around the pair of them.

“Welcome home little brother.” Seto whispered to him softly.