#like jesus christ. i am sitting here wondering how much it would cost to take a taxi from shin osaka to izumisano.

[foxcassius]

goddddd i am going to have to change trains THREE TIMES, JUST in OSAKA to get to my airbnb. with both my suitcases and my carry on and my backpack. i HATE moving. i'm literally going to have to get on the hakubi line to get to okayama, get on the shinkansen, get on the fucking osaka jr line, get on the osaka loop, and then get on the airport line.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

2023, cawis created...

Last year I made a post (which I cannot find) delighted to have published 81,932 words to Ao3 over 20 fics. This year I beat that with 111,227! 25 fics new last year! and that's not including poetry or things I only posted to tumblr! How wonderful!! I'm gonna do a little commentary on each of them (and I will thoughtfully put it below the cut because as I said there are 25. There is a "horny" section with some explicit quotes so just scroll past to the next heading if you don't want to see that lol.

Comedies I like to go hehehe hahaha

Stakes Aren't Just For Vampires Cas and Dean get high and silly "You're repulsive," Dean says by rote, and he isn't sure if he meant it to but it comes out cloying and sweet, like an affectionate nickname.

The first one I posted last year! It took me until March :0 I wrote this one. For maybe a slightly mean reason haha. I saw a fic where Cas did a bet for money and I was like ?? why would CAS care about getting money?? So I tried to think of a situation where he would make a bet and this one materialized!

Did you notice! I used the old reliable Rule Of Three to make the ending of Dean not sure if he said "I love you" or just thought it more potent? He thinks and then immediately says what he's thinking twice before: Cas is perfect/"You're perfect" - Dean wants to kiss him/"I want to kiss you" - and then: "I love you Cas," he thinks he says. I chose "1000 dollars" from the CBBC comedy sketch show Stupid sketch where 2 old ladies ask how much something costs and it's a normal amount and they mishear as "A thousand pounds?! You can't expect me to buy a bun for a thousand pounds. Shame on you!! I am taking my business ELSEWHERE!". The comments won't all be this long lmao (<- edit: she's wrong)

I'll Drink To That Sam and Dean both come out as bisexual at the same time late in life and they're both flabbergasted "What, do you think about how every friend we have would be in bed?"  Dean tips his head to the ceiling thoughtfully and Sam wants to melt into the floor.  "You're horrible. I hate you. I hate spending time with you." 

The SECOND one I posted last year!! I had to cut off a joke where it's suggested that Cas may have had sex with Jesus Christ (but it's very possible he's just messing with Dean) for the sake of flow. First fic I chatted with @homoangel about so I always think of him when I think of this fic <3

I'VE CRAWLED FURTHER INTO THE VCR Cas's dream of being vored by the VCR machine is finally realised Intricate, high effort collaboration, all for the relatively unimportant end of entertaining other humans for somewhere around an hour and a half. The entire enterprise amounts to making pleasing shapes and noises for each other. Fruitless. Pointless...To spend months, years even, producing something, the only purpose of which is to waste more time…the decadence was astounding. [horny]

Speaking of fics that make me think of my friends! Wrote this for dear @castielsprostate's 1k event. Get weird get wild!! He is THE teevee angel and I love him I love him I love him for it!!!!!!

Tragedies Auogh ouch ow ouchies. Hehe <3

The Aftermath Dean and Cas have sex. It was great. Dean can't let it happen again. "He wonders - and he shouldn't, but - he wonders if Cas will sit here again, later, feeling out the absences that Dean is going to leave behind."

The THIRD one I posted this year!!! I went directly from silly silly silly to "[Dean] is a practical man, always has been. If there's something behind you that would kill you to look at it, you just don't look at it.". I think this is one of my best (<- guy who is going to say this about most of her fics sajbfhsv. I wouldn't post them if I wasn't proud of them!!)

Time/Body Problem Cas and Dean make out in the car before Cas's date in Heaven Can't Wait. It doesn't change anything. he's all sensation now, mind-body-time melted together like carved figures on a wax candle.

I wrote this and Aftermath on the same day. I was THINKING about how Dean and Cas so so so often ALMOST have it. Dean, here, is enthralled by the idea that Cas is human now and could want him (although, Cas definitely also wants him as an angel lmao but this is what Dean thinks) but also put off by it. When they kiss, he sees Cas as angelic, with a streetlamp halo, able to melt time, but when Cas is walking away from him, he's just some human guy who, crucially, can't save Dean anymore. Cas had reliably been the guy who could blast into any dangerous situation and come out on top (hot) and while that's not the only thing Dean likes about him, it WAS such a relief for scaredboy dangerlife Dean to have a guy who makes things SAFE. And now he can't. So the risk of making their relationship deeper feels even greater. Perhaps it is a selfish thought for Dean to want Cas to be able to rescue him still, but they're both in such perilous positions. He's worried for Cas too.

Oh did yous get the title by the way? It's like the mind/body problem which is, 'is the mind separate from the body or are they completely inextricable'? 'If I think of something sad and start crying while I'm hormonal, is that feeling from by body or from my mind' is how I understand it, but I'm not a philosopher haha. So time/body problem is like, all three of: Does their relationship need human senses and physical touch in order to be meaningful? Does Castiel's new experience of linear time (aka not being an angel) change how he and Dean relate to each other? And also, the more straightforward, they don't have enough time. Not to say I thought all that when the phrase came into my head, it's just bc I knew the phrase mind/body problem and mind slant rhymes with time, but that's why I liked it enough to use as a title haha.

Smoke Breaks series Dean and Cas share cigarettes at different points in their lives. Cas trails off, taking another long pull. He's going to smoke the whole thing at this rate, rude and overindulgent. Dean doesn't begrudge him, neither the cigarette nor the silence. He knows what he means. 

Someone told me in the comments that reading the first one fit exactly into their actual smoke break I was like WOAH :0!!! Smoking is, unfortunately, really sexy.......I keep trying to think of a way to add another fic to make this thing end on a positive note but the theme of smoking thwarts that haha. Inherently, it is about doing something you know is unhealthy and grey and makes you feel worse, like hunting, like endverse Cas's relationship with endverse Dean, like coming back to see the lover you hurt when you can't touch them or change anything, but it's always bitter sweet because you sometimes get that burst of relief. (That's not a commentary on smokers, just on the theme of smoking as used by this series!)

The last one I think drives that home most bluntly, "No amount of talking is going to change anything." but they still hold on to each other. Also in the last one, I just wanted them to be in kind of miserable surroundings and decided on a weird, dank, alice in wonderland themed motel room, which is a) something interesting to describe when I need space between dialogue and b) the ill-advised freaky looking murals of half-humanoid Wonderland characters is a reflection of how Castiel feels - not human enough, not Other enough, twisted out of shape and c) it 'reflects' (I'm about to do a pun) their relationship has gone 'through the looking glass' (teehee) from the understood 'brothers in arms' to a strange, uncertain place where the rules have changed.

Shaking Out The Nest John gets frustrated by Dean asking to visit Sam at college. "I talk a lot of shit, but [Sam]'s always gonna be family. He's..." the only reason I'm alive, same as you, John can't quite get to come out of his mouth, so instead he repeats, "He's good."

In the demon plane episode where it's revealed that John would rave about Sam getting a full scholarship to Stanford. I think about it SO MUCH. John loved his kids but that didn't make him a suitable parent. I wanted to explore those complicated emotions and the thought patterns that might lead him to what he does. Like I don't think it's deliberately thought out scheming malice that makes him say things that make Dean feel worthless. But he only sees him as a kid when he "fails" at being an "adult" (as in, when Dean disagrees with him) and he thinks it's his job as a parent to tell Dean to knock that off. He wouldn't see his reframing of Sam leaving to "He left both of us because of his pettiness" as playing them off against each other, even though he IS, he'd see it as telling the hard truth and trusting his son to be a grown up about it. John is very emotional and parenting just via your own emotions rather than being able to step back and go 'am I being fair? is this a reasonable response to what's actually happening?' leads to situations like John blaming Dean for the Schtriga incident or saying he should 'rot in jail' for stealing peanut butter.

Horny ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Close Zoom (too close) Dean and Cas make out for the first time while watching a movie. Cas gets overexcited. [Cas] replays the experience of holding Dean; the way his eyelids had fluttered shut with relief when their mouths first connected; the lean in by increments that ended with Dean on top of him....He wants to touch him. No, he amends the oft repeated thought, he wants to touch him again. 

I also wrote this inspired by going huh??? from another fic where they watch a movie together on a date on a first date and DON'T make out like. What are we doing here gang. If they are "watching a movie" and enjoy making out, then they ARE making out before the credits roll lmao. (In MY humble opinion!!!) Obviously chose The Mummy bc Dean's bisexual and I KNOW that man is showing Cas all his Formative To My Sexuality movies as a move to try and suss out what Cas's preferences are. The Lost Boys, Mr & Mrs Smith, Van Helsing, Labyrinth, Indiana Jones, Charlie's Angels, the list goes on.... Also my first installment with Cas having a bit of a pain kink (excited by the thought of a shock collar lol which I havvve been thinking about doing something more with.)

I have. by the way. a second work in progress where Cas gets wayyy more worked up than he was expecting and Dean is similar to here, slowing him down so it's not overwhelming, so look forward to it!!!!

Thunderstruck Cas has them struck by lightening while Dean sucks him off. HELL YEAH. Emanating from Castiel are intermittent bursts of white electric light, shocking across the black sky, sketching outlines of six invisible spread wings. That same light forms thin circular halos behind Cas’s head, some small, some so massive Dean can only see them in pieces. His eyes too - completely obscured by brilliant white light. He is radiant in all senses of the word. 

hehehehe. If your boyfriend can make it safe to be struck by lightening like you GOTTA do it just for the experience. I decided to have Dean not be like, blown away by it (but he is blown away by seeing a bit of trueform Cas) and instead find it just kind of weird but not bad to try and be true to life. sometimes you try something and don't love it or hate it and that's okay! Normal part of having sex. Sex is just another activity with lots of things you can do with it. That, and, it can't all be high points lol. That's why Cas is a little subdued when Dean says he only has 6 wings. peaks and valleys :)

The Feeling Is Enough Service top Dean :) "Cas - Cas, please...please can I come?" Cas doesn't say anything, just smiles up at him adoringly.

This one was bc @faithdeans lamented the lack of service top Dean destiel and I raced to his aid. Literally Dean would LOVE doing this.

Red Velvet Lines The Black Box Vampire!Dean sucking Cas's blood :) Cas is the only angel human enough to have workable blood.... And even if there were anyone else, Dean wouldn't want them. His is the only blood in Dean's veins.

This one was bc @domesticatedangel lamented the lack of vampire destiel smut and I raced to her aid. Castiel the rebel angel being horny over being given an order that he chooses to follow of his own volition? It's more likely than you think! The unmissable return of Castiel's pain kink lmao, even moreso in the second chapter. His penis! in peril!!!!!

The Girl Is Dead. Long Live The Woman. (Anna/Pamela*) Anna visits Pamela to find out what she wants and they have sex :) "I'm not used to - being part of things still. Being touchable. I didn't make the most of it, as a human. I didn't do enough. I was afraid. Embarrassed of my own feeling. I think I wasted my life."  "Be fair. You were a kid for most of it. You didn't know who you were." 

THIS one was because @honestlyhaunted lamented the lack of Pamela/Anna smut and I RACED to their aid. You may be noticing a theme. It's quite possible that if you sigh forlornly over a lack of erotica and I see it that something will be done about it. No promises though lol.

I tried to go for a more season 4 and 5 "everyone just fully states their unique moral philosophy out loud" vibe. And a "Pamela's disability actually affects her life in a practical way" vibe that the show itself elected to ignore. I DID get distracted a few times from my goal of "they have hot sex" because I got too invested in Anna's weird life. As I said in a comment response, Anna is the butterfly that wants to squash herself back into her cocoon. She went from being very emotionally present in her body as a human to having a very flat affect as an angel again (in part because she didn't feel the need to mask her autism anymore. Anna's autistic just like Cas and Hannah and people are not saying this!!!!). And, finally. I wanted a woman to have sex with a woman using a strap on because I hadn't done that yet LOL.

*If this ship was more prominent we could be calling it Pamelanna which is very fun to say.

The Dog, the Lamb and the Butcher Dean and Crowley are having sex during their summer of love and Cas is caught watching them >:3 Then again, fairness doesn't seem to be the watchword here. Dean's looking up at him with what could be adoration, but there's a wildness to him too, a sparkling mischief that undercuts any implied promise of loyalty.  "You like me, don't you Cas? You like me. Uhhn -" A groan born out of Crowley picking up the pace again, making Dean rock into the mattress, "You like me. You like me all the time, no matter what I do. You even like me now." 

Nobody asked for this I have no one to blame but myself. I love and adore the Dean who cannot speak his feelings no matter how much he wants to but there is always room in my heart for an overemotional Demon!Dean who says and does whatever he wants because he's lost the ability to care about the consequences. We could have had it alllllll.

Ask for it Cas caught casturbating by Dean. What happens next WON'T surprise you. His breathing is labored, and he's making quiet sounds of effort, which probably have something to do with the fact that his fingers are pushing in and out of the wet, open pussy between his legs. The pace doesn't slow at Dean's interruption, giving Dean ample time to absorb the image of Cas’s long fingers being swallowed to the last knuckle. 

I am asking here now. I am the one sighing forlornly. I don't CARE that there are already 232 accidental voyeurism destiel fics. MAKE MORE. SHOW ME MORE. SHOW ME MORE. I WANT TO READ MORE. MORE SHAMELESSLY SELF-PLEASURING CASTIEL AND/OR DEAN AND THEY DON'T HAVE A SOCIAL SCRIPT FOR THIS SITUATION SO THEY'RE JUST GOING ON INSTINCT AND THEIR INSTINCT IS TO BE CRAZY HORNY ABOUT IT. SHOW ME MORE!!!!!

Ahem. Or don't teehee. This was my most self indulgent smut (and that's really saying something!!!!). I highly recommend just fuckin going for it because it means I get to reread something all the time that is exactly suited to my tastes!! Hell yeah!!

Fluff :3 this is uwu-hat uwu've aww been uwu-ating fow :3

Pretty Wife Closeted to even himself genderqueer Dean inadvertently insists that he's Cas's wife. Neither of them are opposed! "I think I understand," Cas says, nodding to himself with his 'I got it' smile, "Yes. We are playing roles. I will 'take out the trash' while you 'sit there and look pretty'."

My kingdom for genderqueer dean. He's literally butch. Helloooo!!

Okay that's all for fluff. LOL. SORRY. I post most of my fluff directly to tumblr!!

Carefully Plotted!!! These are the big ones!!!!!!!! All three of these are "One of my best".

A Light Above Descending Cas gives Dean his Grace to calm his Mark of Cain rages. He assumes Dean doesn't remember what he tells him when he's being fed, so he allows himself to be kind. He assumes Dean would prefer that he quietly sacrifice his life for him. He assumes that he hasn't got any family left who love him. He's wrong. A rat gets what a rat gets, is the phrase that repeats in his head, although he can’t speak them over the pounding of his heart, a rat gets what a rat gets.

I have talked about this one at great length in my #cawis commentary tag so I will not reiterate here. Other than that I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo so so so so proud of it and I love it so much.

The Voice In My Earpiece Thinks You're An Idiot (Jo/Bela) JoBela heist fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“If anyone touches you again, I will cut off their fingers.” The fierce darkness of the promise plunges into Bela’s stomach, like a punch. Nobody has ever made her a promise like that before. Not one she believed, anyway.  “Do you believe me?” “That would -” Bela clears her throat, finding her voice croaky - “That would blow our cover.” “I don’t care.”  She means it. Bela remembers what Jo said when they properly introduced themselves - “I make a promise, I keep it.”. Stupid, it is, to throw away their plans over a few moments of discomfort. Ridiculous. Childish. “Do you believe me?” Jo repeats, and Bela nods, jerky, unpracticed. “Yes.” She takes a breath, then says again, “Yes.”

They get the biggest quote because theyyy mean so much to meeeee. I'll probably do another cawis commentary on this at some point bc there are too many things I did on purpose to say them all here. For now: when the woman who's learned to never trust anyone comes to trust the woman who's never felt trusted. And they banter and have hot lesbian sex. ROMANCE.

In Case of Emergency S1 Faith!Dean gets a new roommate at the hospital who's weird and intense and unexplainable things happen to him at night. I wonder who it could beeeee surely no one who's significant to Dean!!! (It's S5 Cas when he did the angel banishing sigil on his own chest) One of the machines on the other side starts going crazy with noise just as the curtain is cast back in a dramatic swish. The shadow of a man looms, sinister and ominously silent. He's watching Dean, but Dean can't do the same, his face impossible to make out. A red light flashes off kilter to his head from his monitors, and Dean gets the absurd thought that it looks like a knocked off halo. 

You know it you love it it's In Case Of Emergency. I just think. They DON'T have a supernatural soulmate connection but they just get on as people. If they met at any time in each other's lives for the very first time (aside from Godstiel lol) they would end up getting along! They click! They LIKE each other!

I thought a lot about the Sam role in this fic. If you have 3 people and 2 of them want something (to hang out all the time) then the 3rd person SHOULD be getting in the way of that (closing the curtain) for a believable reason (Dean needs to rest and stop tiring himself out with this random stranger!!!). Sam comparing Dean's imminent demise to Mary's death and Dean eventually asking what he'd want Mary to say to him (with the subtext; what can I say to make it better that I'm dying) made me cry as I wrote it and every time I reread it. It's making me cry NOW lol. augh fuck im rereading i'm crying. turns out. when you write exactly what touches you emotionally. you feel touched. emotionally. to read it.

Also this fic now makes me think of darling @forestofsprites bc they've left such wonderfully kind tags every time they've reblogged it :') ily

Misc I dunno. These don't fit in the other categories lol.

6th Life's The Charm! Sarah Blake/Bela Meow!!!!! Sarah gets a mysterious commission to find a painting, and a strangely perceptive cat follows her home the same day. But those can't possibly be connected I'm sure. Smiling with her eyes closed, Sarah puts a hand on B's back and touches. Skin.  She startles awake and jerks her hand away. By the embers of the fire, she can see the woman lying on top of her....The woman is watching her, smiling, and her pupils are strange. They creep a little too far into her irises. She's also the most beautiful woman Sarah has ever seen. Stunning, in both senses of the word.  "No questions?" The woman asks eventually, as Sarah's silent stare ticks on. Her tone is a) British and b) faintly mocking, like she knows something Sarah doesn't. 

Little turned into a kitty cat romcom!! I do fun little asides in footnote format! Middle aged yaoi ummmm but what about middle aged YURI??? Sarah references Sex in the City and is having a midlife crisis what more do you want from me!!! I did want to have a little moment of Sarah saying "sorry about the collar attempt" and Bela flirtily going "hmm, I think it'd look better on you" and Sarah spontaneously combusting but it didn't quite flow. Maybe in the horny sequel I kinda want to write...

MEOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hello, Sun In My Face Cas realises he's in love with Dean. The natural thing to do is to tell him right away. "Don't," Dean pleads, and it's not clear whether he means don't love me or don't tell me. Either way, Cas is going to let him down.  "I love you," Cas repeats, firmly, "I have loved you. I will love you. That's all."

Too angsty for the fluff section, too sweet for the tragedies. What are you. As may be clear from previous works, in MY world, Dean and Cas platonically sleep together every night and snuggle the whole time :3 even if it's a world where they're aromantic I firmly believe this would be the case. When I say platonic I am not saying it with a wink and a nudge, as a few scattered comments seem to suggest they think. But also in this one they are also romantically in love haha.

How Do You Go From Wanting To Having? When Cas stumbles back to life after escaping from the Empty, Dean can't speak the words in his heart. But he can write them. You can have it, and variations thereupon: You can have it, damn it; could have fucking taken me, asshole; what do you think is supposed to make me happy now, you arrogant, stupid son of a bitch?

I don't know if I made the most of this premise lol but I had fun building the evidence of grief into the Bunker. They pushed a heavy object in front of the door to the dungeon so they didn't have to see it, Dean filled his room with lights so he didn't have to be in the dark (a general post-canon headcanon of mine that both Dean and Cas have lamps on all night), Dean's stiff position during his nightmare. Little clues that Cas does NOT pick up on bless his heart.

This Is A Love That Lasts Forever It's about Claire giving Cas a haircut. It's about grief. It's about love. Cas remembers - though he shouldn't, ethically - sending Claire for a time out for saying the word 'damn' when she was 6, though she surely couldn't have known what it meant. Swinging her hand on the way to church on Sundays. Clapping for her awkward turn at playing Mary in the Christmas Nativity. Loving Claire had only deepened Jimmy's love of God, and this was the love that Castiel had taken advantage of. He doesn't deserve even a moment of Claire’s forgiveness. 

Last one! I uploaded this on the 29th of December but it ISSSSSS absolutely 1000% one of my best. Cas and Claire's relationship in canon is so WEIRD. One doesn't typically accept grumpy cats from the guy wearing your dad's corpse as a skin suit??? Even if he's kind of nice to you?? So this is my way of figuring out how to make it make sense. She can't ditch Cas because that's where all her dad's love is stored and nobody else in her life knows her dad anymore. And they both have to try and make that work.

I had a different ending in mind for a little while - Claire completing the haircut and then going oh my god. now you don't look like my dad anymore. what have I done now I won't remember him I'm so stupid!!! put it back how it was!! and Cas is like um I can't do that though I'm low on Grace and Claire cries herself out about it and they talk about having to get used to new, unfamiliar circumstances. But I like what I went with more (obviously. because I wrote it lol).

Little headcanons that I carried across from other works: - Claire will allow Donna to be as cutesy and affectionate as she likes and Donna calls her "Claire-bear" and nobody can figure out why it's a shy little happy smile when Donna pats her cheek and beams at her and she would kill anyone else who tried it with her laser eyes. I do though, I know why. It's bc of Donna's easy open affection that genuinely isn't trying to hide anything. Claire knows Donna isn't faking it because Donna is kind to everything and everyone. She would have a harder time with Garth though even though Donna and Garth are very similar in this regard, just because. Well. The girl has been traumatized and betrayed by so many "nice" men. God how did I get onto this. Donna is the mom/aunty figure Claire has needed for a long time. I talk about this in Growing A New Half Soul - Angel's were never children I talk about in A Light Above Descending.

THE END.

If you've read this. Are you sure you didn't have anything better to do with your time avhsbv but thank you!!! Go follow all the friends I've @'d because then they might do follower events and I might write more things as a result!!!! Also go and write some dean walking in on cas masturbating fic and then send it to me.

My challenge for you is to think about women falling in love with other women. Wow, beautiful, right? And also to think of ONE thing you did that you are proud of this year. Even and in fact especially if it's something you're not "supposed" to be proud of. Did you find something new you liked. Were you kind to someone. Were you kind to yourself when you didn't have to be. All these and more are things to take pride in.

I, for one, am proud of having written 111,227 words of complete short fiction!!!!! So much so that I wrote another 4936 words talking about them here :)

[iammultifandomaf]

Once a Leader, Always a Leader

FanFiction: Sweet Home (Netflix)

Chapter 4 - ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

He raised his hands and observed them for a second and then laid them back on his thighs without a word.

"How do you feel?" Ji-Su asked and slowly stood up from the mattress. Eun-Hyuk looked at her in thought and simply said: "Still the same."

"Monster-same or human-same?" Eun-Yu added and watched him curiously. He looked at her and rose to his feet.

"Since my eyesight didn't get worse again, I'd say monster-same," he said and looked around, scratching the back of his head.

"We should make some food plan... and a plan in general. How to stay safe–" he said, not giving his change much attention but got interrupted by his sister.

"You destroy monsters by touch, right? So... if you stay sane, you are keeping us safe, no?"

He gave her a long look and gave out a quiet 'hm'.

"What? Am I wrong? And what do you do exactly to them? You said you're gonna tell me later."

"Uhm... Do you remember the first monster we encountered?" Eun-Hyuk asked.

"The lady monster with that nasty tounge?" Hye-In said.

"Yeah... she ate people, right? I... eat other monsters," he added quietly.

"You eat monsters? That's great! You're basically superior to them? With that scream and all," Eun-Yu said in excitement, sensing some sort of hope for them.

"Maybe... but I shouldn't eat them so much. It changes me."

"How?" Ji-Su wondered.

"I... I am not sure yet. But then again, that's the only way I know how to properly get rid off them and keep you safe," he said in a low voice.

"Maybe it's like a power boost? No? That would come in handy," Eun-Yu said.

"Even if... even if it was like that... what if it comes with a cost? I don't want to lose my sanity," Eun-Hyuk admitted. Ji-Su stood up and approached him, touching his shoulder gently.

"I bet that if you stay with us... you can stay the way you are, huh? Like Cha Hyun-Su... he was also able to come back."

Eun-Hyuk looked her in the eyes without a smile but nodded, appreciating what she said.

"That's another thing... I need to find him. But I am not sure how."

"Let's do that together then. We have the van-" Eun-Yu said but stopped when she noticed her brother staring at her, "What?" she cried out angrily.

"He could be anywhere...," Hye-In said.

"Honestly, I don't know what's the best decision to make... we could be looking for him for a long time... can we really live in a small van?" Eun-Hyuk asked and looked at the children who have been silently sitting on the mattress and then looked down at his hands. I need to find out if I can control my turns. Why am I suddenly like this again?

Ji-Su noticed how Eun-Hyuk watched his hands curiously and asked: "Are you in control of the changes happening to you?"

He looked up at her and stayed silent for a bit before saying: "I... need to figure that out."

"Alright, so... let's have breakfast, pack and then figure out if you have it under control, alright?" Ji-Su said.

Everyone agreed with Ji-Su's suggestion, mainly because everyone was getting pretty hungry already. All of them also properly washed themselves since they haven't had the opportunity for a while and probably won't get one for the time being.

After all that, they got all their bags and supplies into the van, as well as the children and the dog.

"So... what now?" Hye-In asked, glancing at Eun-Hyuk who warily looked around.

"I think we aren't alone," he said quietly and his gaze stopped at the opposite house, "we should-"

Eun-Hyuk didn't finish his sentence because a very thin looking but quite tall monster jumped from behind the building and was now standing in front of them.

"Fuck!" Eun-Yu cursed and quickly jumped into the van, "Eun-Hyuk, get rid of him!"

However, he didn't know what was wrong, but he couldn't draw his claws out, let alone find the strength for his monster-scream.

"I... I think... we gotta just bounce. Get in! Quickly!" he commanded and ran to the van and sat down into the driver's seat, Ji-Su sitting down next to him. Eun-Hyuk quickly started the engine and stepped on the gas, driving away from the monster.

"So, you don't know how it works, then?" Ji-Su asked with an alarmed voice.

"Well," Eun-Hyuk said but a loud thud on the van's roof made him look up, "shit."

Something looking like a hand clawed its way through the roof and was now hanging in between Eun-Hyuk and Ji-Su, trying to reach at least something.

"You've got a weapon?" Eun-Hyuk asked and tried to shake off the monster by driving from side to side of the road.

"I... a knife in my backpack," she said and quickly opened her red backpack, looking for it. The monster's hand was jiggling around and came close to grabbing Eun-Hyuk's head.

Eun-Hyuk's first instinct was to bite into the palm agressively which made the monster give out a distorted cry. Ji-Su stared at it in disbelief, noticing that Eun-Hyuk's teeth didn't resemble anything a human would have in his mouth.

Eun-Hyuk quickly glanced at Ji-Su and then back at the road and tried to encourage her with a :"Cmmhn."

Ji-Su shook away the stupor an stabbed the monsters wrist, trying to cut through it, however the knife got stuck in the arm and didn't move at all.

"I can't cut it off!" Ji-Su cried out. Eun-Hyuk quickly grabbed her hand and put them onto the steering wheel and then got a tight grasp on that monster's arm. He felt that his jaws and teeth have changed and hoped that he could rely on them for now, biting deep into the monster's arm, ripping it off with ease. The arm fell down with an unpleasant squishy noice. Eun-Hyuk then grabbed the steering wheel and made an unexpected turn, shaking off the monster off the car.

Ji-Su watched Eun-Hyuk's focused eyes and his face which was now covered in the monster's goo-ish blood.

"What about the arm?" she asked weakly.

Eun-Hyuk's eyes landed on the monster's arm and picked it up with his right hand.

"Throw it out?" he suggested and handed it to Ji-Su who then opened the car door and with a fast movement, threw out the arm.

"So... do you know now how to change?" Ji-Su asked after a while and looked Eun-Hyuk.

"As you can see," he said, showing her his teeth which still were very inhuman, "not really, no. It's still somehow instinctual... and that sucks."

Ji-Su didn't answer and the silence was kept until Eun-Yu violently opened the blackened window that separated them and the back of the van.

"I want to see what is happening over here, jesus fucking christ. That was a monster, right?" she said and looked at Eun-Hyuk, noticing the slowly-drying goo on his face.

"Yeah, it was a monster," Ji-Su calmly answered and looked back at her.

"We should find a gas station and get some gas," Eun-Hyuk said as his eyes landed on the blinking gas symbol in front of him.

"You should probably clean off first, you look disgusting," Eun-Yu answered, relying on her attitude to cover how frightful she just felt from the whole situation.

"Yeah, that, too," he said and gave her a quick glance before returning his gaze to the road. "I have a bad feeling, though..."

"What feeling?" Ji-Su asked alarmed.

"I... I can't really explain it but I think we aren't that far from other monsters. Like a lot of them," Eun-Hyuk replied.

"So, turn the fucking van around!" Eun-Yu said angrily.

"That's no good, either. The monster that attacked us just before brought attention to us as well. What I am saying is that we'll just have to drive through somehow. We are basically surrounded."

"You better get that abysmal scream back, young man," Hye-In commented from the back as she nervously patted her dog. Meanwhile, Su-Yeong and Yeong-Su were clutching onto each other, sensing the gloomy atmosphere in the van. Eun-Hyuk did not answer, though, and only kept on driving.

It didn't take long for them to see multiple monsters ahead of them. A few of them seemed a bit agitated and tried to attack each other. Eun-Hyuk stopped the car and looked at Ji-Su.

"Take over the driving, I'll get their attention so you can pass them, alright?" Eun-Hyuk said, undoing his seatbelt. Eun-Yu quickly grabbed his shoulder and dug her nails into it which made her brother turn his around.

"Are you CRAZY? You aren't going anywhere!" she said loudly.

"Shh, Eun-Yu," he tried to get her hand off his shoulder but she would not let go of his t-shirt, "I will be fine," he added.

"You said that the last time!"

"And I am here, aren't I?" he said and opened the door a bit.

"If you leave, I'll really hate you then!" she exclaimed, not having enough time to think of a proper argument. She only received the smile he always gave her. The smile that meant that whatever she said to him, he did not take it personally and only saw the message in between the lines. He jumped out of the van and began jogging to the monsters.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Eun-Yu cried out, feeling her eyes tear up. Ji-Su climbed over to the driver's seat and watched Eun-Hyuk who already won the monsters' attention.

"Jesus, this doesn't look good," Ji-Su said under her breath, staring at Eun-Hyuk who now stood in front of the approaching monster and didn't seem to be turning into one to save himself. It didn't take long before one short but very bulky monster jumped Eun-Hyuk, pinning him underneath him. The other monsters seemed to copy the first one and tried to get to Eun-Hyuk as well.

Eun-Yu couldn't hold in her whimpers anymore and let the tears flow down her cheeks heavily. "It's so many of them," Eun-Yu whispered.

"We better get the hell out of here," Ji-Su said quietly, remembering that Eun-Hyuk said that the monsters are also behind them and stepped on the gas, driving fast pass the hoard of monsters, climbing on each other just to get to Eun-Hyuk. Hye-In watched the bloodcurdling scene they have been passing.

"Why are they so into getting him, though?" Hye-In asked in a weak voice as they finally passed the monsters. "Isn't that weird?"

"Who the fuck cares?!" Eun-Yu yelled at her and sat down next to Yeong-Su who started crying, too.

"I guess it is weird, yeah..." Ji-Su commented, not able to take her eyes off the road in front of her, feeling stunned from what had just happened. What would I give to hear that haunting shriek, again, Ji-Su thought.

In a few minutes, they have reached something that resembled a gas station and decided to stop there. "Eun-Hyuk said to get gas... would somebody come with me if they have any canisters left?" Ji-Su asked in a faint tone, looking back at the gang.

"I'll go with you," Eun-Yu said shortly and opened the back door, jumping out of the van. Ji-Su followed her outside as well. The gas station was pretty wrecked, but it seemed that inside the shop, there were still some supplies.

"We should get everything we can get our hands on," Ji-Su said. Eun-Yu started marching towards the shattered door but Ji-Su's hand stopped her. "Wait," she whispered, "let's be careful, monsters can be in there."

"I don't care," Eun-Yu shook off her hand and walked right into the store.

"Jesus," Ji-Su rolled her eyes and wrapped her fingers around the knife handle and went inside, too.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13825734/4/

[theplumsoldier]

the bystander is as bad as the bully

summary: you are a mutant and who knows for what reason donald broke you out of transigen, risking his job and life for your freedom. despite this one suspiciously nice act, you will make him face his soiled past—bring up his deepest insecurities and [now] most regretful past. if he did not hate himself before, he sure does now. part of a miniseries! pairing: donald pierce x reader word count: 3191 warnings: vulgar language, mentions of blood, angst, violence, unhealthy dealings with emotions.

How you had gotten yourself in this situation was beyond you. You sat in a chair in the apartment of the mutant-hunter who also had broken you out of Transigen approximately half an hour ago. Your eyes cautiously took in your surroundings, observing the life of an apparent minimalist. It was rather large, his apartment, albeit austere and seemingly having no personal touch. It was neat and looked as if he had he had only lived there for a very short amount of time. It made you wonder if Donald Pierce was a psychopath. But, of course, you can’t judge a person by their living arrangements. However, what it is appropriate to judge a person on, is their actions. And now, from where you stand, it appears to be a fact that Donald has kidnapped you.

Jumping in surprise, you were forced from your trance once Donald dropped a small box onto the dinner table, and you gulped, unsure what was next.

Back in captivity - not to say being held here was not the very same bar the scenery - you had been caned for speaking unless spoken to, so as the questions clouded your mind, you merely kept quiet for your own good. Because it is for your own good.

Meekly, you watched as Donald dragged another chair to sit before you and as he slumped down with a heavy breath, he wiped his forehead. His eyes avoided yours at every cost and his jaw clenched and arms flexed as he reached the box.

A ragged breath escaped you from the anticipation, and you were confused to see medical supplies. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, a deep crease between your brows and your blood-stained, quivering lips slightly parted. Was he going to take care of the wound oozing blood out of your thigh?

Donald was not bothered enough to give you a smart comment in retaliation to your glare. He was too exhausted. But he knew the gash in your leg needed help, or else he had rescued you from Transigen only to let you bleed out at his hand.

“Take off those pants.”

Your eyes shot up, whitening.

“What?” croaked you, no longer able to hold back your words.

Your voice was weak, hoarse, and it scraped in your throat as you spoke. The last time a sound had come out of you was a week ago, and it was screams from being tortured.

“Your pants. Take them off,” reiterated he, this time nodding your way.

But you sat completely still. Your head was foggy, it was as if your thoughts were not your own, just about everything in your body was hurting, except for your right leg which had gone numb due to the loss of blood. Above everything, you still could not piece together what you were doing in Donald Pierce’s home.

He sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. Then he looked up at you, eyes flashing a flinch of emotion. Something certainly never seen before.

“Do you want to die?” asked he plainly, swiping his tongue across his chapped lips. You shook your head tentatively, your eyes fixated on him with much concern. “So let me close your wound.”

But this was the man that had stood by, stern-faced, unbothered, and at times even spoken the order, as Reavers had beaten you for not obeying. Surely, he had never himself laid a hand on you, but you believed that was merely a question of exertion. Why would he get his fingers dirty when he had a whole crew of men perfectly willing? You had been temporarily disabled more times than you could count as a result of Donald Pierce’s rank.

A bone-tired moan emitted from him and as Donald shot up from his seat, his hands went to the back of his head. Pacing for a second, he turned to look down at your debilitated person.

“Jesus-fucking-christ. Y/N. I am not going to hurt you,” enunciated he, leaning forward. His imposing frame heaved up with every breath and you pushed back in your seat. “Not deliberately, at least. I didn’t break you out of the facility only to let you bleed out here, okay?”

A pregnant pause passed by and the longer you looked into his piercing eyes, the more you felt compelled to nod your head.

“So then we understand each other, yeah? I can’t take you to a hospital, so we’ll have to fix you up here. Will you let me fix you up, Y/N?”

Donald felt like he was talking to a child or someone who did not speak English. His patience was wearing thin, because he could not help but think Transigen soldiers would soon come-a-knocking. Not only had he given up his job for you, but he too had risked his life in the process. He had doubted it was even worth it before he finally had been reckless enough to save your life, but a force of something he had never felt before drove him past sanity. Now he very well might have been a mutant himself, being a traitor would undoubtedly be considered just as bad if not worse.

Your mouth opened to speak but then closed again. You looked down, your tired eyes staring at the makeshift tourniquet. Lifting your hands from the edge of the seat, you trailed down your shaking fingers to release it from its task.

Very good, thought Donald, exhaling and moved to sit before you again.

When you tentatively had dropped the tourniquet, you moved to your jeans. You felt weird exposing yourself like this, but even more odd was that you did not feel as uncomfortable revealing your bare legs under Donald’s sharp gaze. He was concentrated on the gash cutting open your thigh, and to be fair you were growing exceedingly tired, your eyelids feeling heavier than ever, but that was just a result of the bloodloss. You could not give up now. Even if you did give in to the inviting deep sleep that hovered over you, Donald would not let you.

"Here," murmured Donald, bowing down to tuck at the ends of your jeans, pulling them off of you.

Weeks worth of small hairs created a pattern of blood as it trickled downward, captivity evident on your appearance. You had only been allowed showers whenever they had finished experimenting on you. Turns out even an anti-mutant organization such as themselves had certain regulations when it came to hygiene.

You hissed when the coagulated stain of rough material grazed the wound and instinctively pulled at your leg, only making it worse.

"Sorry. Sorry," mumbled Donald, giving you a reassuring gaze as he held back his hands. "I won't hurt you. Okay? I'm not gonna hurt you again."

Again.

Even at times where it had not been him two pull the trigger, to give the order; he had kept quiet and observant. You were not quite sure if he was saying "sorry" for you getting shot, or because he had let the torture go on for so long, or if there was something entirely different burden weighing him down - which, to be fair, you would not be surprised with should it be true - but Donald's left hand shook ever so lightly. You let him continue to clean up the smeared blood for although this man had contributed to your pain, you could see it in his eye he wore the guilt the rest did not dare face. He had all the reason to, of course, for, after all, the bystander is as bad as the bully.

After cleaning the wounded area up, Donald proceeded to search through the toolbox. Inspecting the laceration, his hand touched your thigh ever so cautiously, treating the skin like it was the most delicate porcelain.

"Looks like it was jus' a through-and-through. Lucky, but you'll need stitches."

"Lucky..." enunciated you in a whisper, your eyebrows knotting together and you were certain your heavy eyes were twitching but candidly you could not tell for you felt numb just then. Even the burning sting in your thigh seemed to fade and as you stared vacuously at Donald the word repeated itself in your head with seething spite. Lucky.

At a loss, you watched him work the thread through the needle. Even when he made the gesture to close up the wound, you were not fazed.

"I am lucky?"

The purest of venom.

That had to be a joke. Right?

Through his eyelashes, Donald looked at you, not giving it a second thought as he tried to concentrate.

"Could have been worse," mumbled he, going for the first stitch.

A disgusted laugh escaped you, unable to believe what he was saying.

"I was held captive for—fuck, I don't even know how long! I was tortured by you people, experimented on, drained, barely fed, isolated, and forced to undergo surgery three times just because that fucking doctor wanted to know how much I could withstand! And you tell me, that I was lucky?"

Now he understood you did not care you had been hurt as a consequence of him getting you out. The thing was, he had not saved you. He had merely made himself your captor instead of one of Transigen. But he was a Reaver at Transigen and now you are at his house. Who was to say he would treat you any differently? Through your eyes one captor is the same as the other; it does not matter as long as you are deprived of your freedom.

Your words got through to him, clearly, but he simply cleared his throat and shifted the way he kneeled before you, trying to get the bleeding under control while he tended to the injury.

"I didn't ask to be like this! The same you are you, I am me! I have done nothing wrong! And you try to play God by wiping out a whole new generation so you can—what? "Reclaim" your home?"

"Sit still."

"You can't change nature! Nature is the change and my people were just the first generation to play role in evolution! I don't know what made you this belligerent jingoist, but whatever fucked up childhood you suffered—that is no reason to be scared—"

"I ain't scared of a thing, okay? Now I didn't save you just to let you die, so how 'bout—"

"Save me?"

Pierce denied he merely relocated you from one captive situation to another. If he wanted to save you, he should have brought you somewhere you could get the medical help you needed and be safe. Granted, he was now, on his knees stitching you up, but nevertheless, he had made it abundantly clear you were going nowhere without him.

"You moved me from one shitty situation to another, you dipshit! What makes you any better than your people? All this time you watched me get tortured! You stood by the doctor's side, insensitive while I screamed and cried for them to stop! Doing nothing is not better than the ones doing the harm!"

Donald tried his best to keep his cool. But he had a lot on his mind. Fair enough, he thought, you cannot be grateful for a mutant-hunter to save you from your captor, but it took him a lot of courage to free you from Transigen.

He had tirelessly spent his nights planning your escape, at long last apprehending the iniquity of his actions and coming to terms with not only giving up his job but too becoming a deserter of a powerful and well-connected organization.

"You should have just left me there. That way they wouldn't be after you, anyway."

"I get it! Okay? Just... Sit still 'n let me fix this shit, yeah?"

Your glare remained, intent but you had no fight left in you.

And as much as you did not want to, you were beginning to think he was no longer in denial of holding you captive. But what was he to do? Let you go? You would never make it out of Mexico City without his help—hell, Donald was not even sure you guys would make it out of the city before Transigen tracked you down.

After all, he had never had a reason to hide a thing for Transigen. He had only ever been loyal to his job and crew so now that his moral-compass had grown overnight, he had not had the time to plan anything before he saw Doctor Rice taking it too far. Surely he had planned the escape for some time now, but he decided to commence the mission weeks before it was safe to get you out. Now, shit he was not too sure either of you would be safe for long. That was why he prioritized getting you patched up before attempting fleeing the country.

The next time the needle pierced your skin, you felt every bit of pain.

This time you let him work on you, staring intently at him as he did. When he was finished, he leaned down to your thigh to bite over the thread.

Pierce looked up at you.

"There. You should get some sleep. I'm gonna make the arrangements so we can leave in a couple hours."

You shook your head with great exhaust. No matter how you tried to envisage the two of you on the run, you could not. Was he really counting on the two of you now being partners? Fugitives on the run from an anti-mutant organization. With a mutant-hunter.

Donald stood back up and offered his hand to lighten the pressure on your leg. Tentatively, you held onto him and let him pull you up. This was the first time you had touched his bionic hand. At Transigen you used to believe it would only ever touch you to scar. But this was gentle. A careful gesture of kindness from a man seeming the opposite. You could not possibly believe that this man had ever been described as kind, but here he was, and although you suspected the various reasons behind his actions, he had successfully freed you from the grasp of Transigen.

However ungrateful you may appear, you could not be thankful until you were free, with your own kind. Besides, how can one be ungrateful to their captor?

Then you realized if he would not let you go on your own, perhaps you should try your luck. You could not possibly return to your friends with a mutant-hunter at your tail. For all you knew, this was merely an act of that very same mutant-hunter who contributed to your torment all those weeks, to lure him to your friends and family.

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

Donald cast a glance over his shoulder before he reached down to collect something from under the couch. A briefcase. But when he opened it, a workstation was hidden inside. A satellite computer.

"Not if we're going to survive."

You could not quite make out if he was genuine about the fact that he too was in trouble, or if Pierce was on his way to an Academy Award.

"You can go sleep in the bedroom, I'll be in here sorting things out."

You looked to where he nodded. Swallowing the cry in your throat, you shifted your weight. You were really not comfortable sleeping in his bed. However, if you picked the couch, you would not be able to snoop around, searching for possible weapons or plan much of an escape. Your head was a jumble of ambivalent thought, still not fully assimilated with whether or not Donald was indeed in this with you.

Gulping, you hesitantly moved to the bedroom, vigilantly stepping inside. The bedroom was as clean as the rest of the apartment; no personal photographs, ostensibly no possessions of value, emotional or otherwise. You looked back to Pierce and were sure you caught him looking out the corner of his eyes, but his gaze returned to the computer, typing rapidly.

Closing the door behind you, you exhaled. You had not even noticed that you had been so tense, but only as you leaned back against the white door, you felt your body slump with lassitude. The walls were white, so was the ceiling, the bedside table, too, as well as the bedspread. The curtains were black and drawn. If he was no psychopath, he certainly seemed to be the kind of guy to hide arms under his pillow. You went to check.

Nothing. Shit. Fucking shit!

Your breathing came out unsteady, ragged, and scraping in your throat the same way it did when a panic attack would surprise you. This was no time.

Lying on the bed, trying your best to stay calm, you put your hands over your head, crying out. In out, in, out, in and out.

When you finally had managed to collect yourself, and perhaps even gotten just a tad bit shut-eye - for at some point you remember waking up, although with no recollection of greeting slumber - you felt the need to inspect his room for any other weapons. You could not imagine a professional mutant-hunter not being loaded with artillery. If you had no choice but to let him take you wherever - hopefully, that was, as he vehemently asserted out of this damned country - you figured you, even if only for precaution, a gun might very well come in handy.

While you methodically scoured every inch of the room, you feared you might not have been too hushed as you had believed for suddenly the door was flung open.

Gun in hand, hard bearing, and piercing eyes, Pierce stood in the doorway, ready to shoot if necessary.

You had been so accustomed to surrender at this point, you did not think twice before your hands were raised to head-level.

He had many times seen fragile mutants, begging for their lives, all the same begging for him to end it, but the expression on your face just now hurt him. This was his fault.

Howbeit, he like any man in denial repressed emotion when feeling a hint of arcane feelings. Donald was experiencing those exact feelings and he did not like what he did not understand. Masking the unknown into anger, he propped the gun back into his belt and looked majestically wroth.

“Please don’t do anything to upset me. The mess wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

Slowly, your hands fell parallel to your body, and you leaned against the bookcase for support.

Donald easily justified your expression of anxiety. But he would not have shot you. Even if you did try to escape. The hunter merely comprehended the facts of a fugitive and the two of you were just that; he was ready to take down whoever dared break into his hideout, but if you believing him inclined to shoot you hindered you from absconding; he could live with that. However much it hurt him, he could. At least until your safety was assured.

"I was just—"

"Don't matter. We’re leaving."

[victoria-daydreams]

Something’s Gotta Give

Chapter Four: A Frightful Dinner

AN: If this chapter was an actual person, I would want to fight them because this chapter was somewhat difficult to write. There would be times where everything would just flow together and then other times where I would hit a brick wall. Like, I got stuck on a single line of dialogue for hours, it was incredibly annoying. Anyways, here’s the next chapter, hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Five: Avoidance

Summary: Livia has been doing everything humanly possible to forget what she witnessed at Booker’s apartment, it’s easier said then done.

Two days.

That's how long I haven't seen or spoken to Booker. Honestly, I've been avoiding him at all costs, it's cowardly, I know. But can you really blame me? I entered Booker's apartment that night on the belief that the two of us were going to have a nice and quiet dinner between friends. That didn't happen, not in the slightest, what I got instead was something straight out of a horror movie.

Maybe I was right, maybe Booker really was a vampire.

Pushing out the awful memory of what transpired that night had become of a priority of mine. I've been busying myself with my work by spending more time at my office, coming in earlier than I need to and leaving a lot later than I usually prefer to. On top of that, I've been hanging out with my friend Leonie more frequently, we met at university where I studied abroad and from there the rest was history. Leonie teased me when she noted how much time we've been spending together, she knows that I'm a bit of an introvert and likes to stay inside and relax by myself, but she welcomed the change in behavior nonetheless.

"I've had such a great time today!" I announced, smiling over towards Leonie.

"Well it's a wonder what a little spa day can do," she replied, a proud a grin on her face. I unlocked the door to my apartment and stepped inside, looking over Leonie's shoulder my smile began to fade as I stared at Booker's door. "Hey," she called, placing a hand on my arm. "What's wrong? Why the sudden long face?" she asked curiously.

I shook my head and softly chuckled, "It's nothing, it's just my neighbor," I answered, Leonie turned around and looked at the door.

"What about them?"

"I haven't heard any movement or sounds from him in days," I explained, my eyes glancing at his door again. "I'm just a little concerned, that's all," I added, letting out a sigh and crossing my arms.

"Why? Do you know him well?" Leonie questioned curiously, arching her brow.

"Not as well as I thought I did," I thought.

I shook my head, "No," I answered. "We hardly speak to each other," I lied, with another shake of the head.

Leonie squeezed my arm, "Then you have nothing to worry about." She reassured, a small laugh leaving her. "He probably just works the night shift or something," she suggested, shrugging her shoulders. A loud chime made the two of us look down and Leonie lifted her wrist to look at her watch. "I gotta go, but today was a nice outing, we should go to the spa more often," Leonie stated, nodding to herself.

"Sounds like a plan,” I agreed, a smile on my face.

Leonie began backing away from my door, "Now, go ahead and plug yourself into a wall Livia," She advised teasingly. "You have to recharge your social battery," she explained, with a grin of her own.

"Shut up!" I exclaimed, laughing at the quip and Leonie's laughter echoed in the corridor as she walked away.

Smiling to myself, I pushed the door closed, but stopped myself and slowly lifted my eyes up at the faded number four on his door. I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply.

"This is killing me," I thought.

Opening up my door again, I walked out of the apartment, locking the door behind me. I raised my hand to knock, but it didn't move, I just stared at the door, I could feel my nervousness eating at my stomach. Inhaling deeply, I shook my head and let my knuckles rap against the door in three rhythmic knocks, I waited and waited, but it was just silence.

Absolute silence.

"Booker, it's me!" I called, listening for any movement behind the door. "Listen, I feel horrible for how I reacted two nights ago," I admitted, hoping that would elicit some sort of response. "Booker please let me in so we can discuss whatever that was on Wednesday," I requested, knocking on the door again, this time with much more force. "You know I'm stubborn Booker, either let me in or I will find a way in," I threatened, not sounding the least bit of threatening as I slapped my hand against the door.

Still no response.

"Fine," I breathed, pulling bobby pins out of my hair. "Have it your way," I muttered, bending the pins before entering them inside the keyhole.

Gently, I maneuvered the bobby pins, twisting and wiggling it around at different angles. Minutes passed by as I attempted to pick the lock, letting out frustrated grunts and sighs as I worked. Jimmying the bobby pin a little harder I heard the sound of a satisfying click and a proud grin made it's way on my face. Slowly, I twisted the door knob and opened the door to Booker's apartment. As soon as I stepped inside I was shrouded in darkness, the only light source was from the corridor, that's when an odor invaded my nostrils and my nose twisted in disgust at the foulness.

Booker's apartment reeked of booze, spoiled food, and vomit. God, I hope I'm wrong about the last one. I lifted my hand to cover my nose and mouth and moved in further, a loud crunch could heard underneath my feet, slowly I lowered my gaze to the floor. It was tiny shards of glass all around my feet and the dots connected in my head. This had to be the glass I heard shatter two nights ago. My hand found it's way to the wall and light pushed the switched on.

"Oh Booker," I sighed softly, looking at the state of his apartment.

There were several empty bottles of liquor strewn throughout the room, trash was littered all across the floor, and the kitchen and small living room was in disarray. One of the kitchen chairs was knocked over and two armchairs laid on their side, the pillows scattered haphazardly. Then my eyes fell upon the long, red sofa where a figure laid. Another sigh escaped me as I looked down at Booker's sleeping form, I didn't know if the sigh was out of disappointment or pity. I glanced down at his hand to see a bottle dangling from his fingers.

Pity. It was definitely pity I was feeling.

Locking the door, I walked over to Booker and gently tugged the bottle from his grasp before placing on the coffee table.

"God, you look terrible," I commented, gazing at him.

His hair looked greasy, like it had been washed in days. He was still wearing the same clothes from two days ago, they were all wrinkled and riddled with mysterious stains. The dark circles underneath his eyes were unmistakable, a slight frown lined my forehead at the sight of them. And finally his skin, the glow that I commented about days ago, had vanished. Now his skin looked sunken and sallow. Shaking my head, I reached down and slightly shook his shoulder. A foul odor that I couldn't exactly identify wafted into my nose, causing my nose to scrunch up.

"And you smell awful,” I added, momentarily turning my head away from him.

Booker didn't respond to my actions, but instead let out a soft snore, briefly I closed my eyes and exhaled heavily from my nose. I sat down on the edge of the sofa and gave Booker's shoulders another shake, this time harder.

"Booker!" I called, my tone becoming firmer. Still no response. "Jesus Christ," I muttered, my hands now resting on his shoulders.

"Desperate times, calls for desperate measures," I thought. "Sorry Booker,"

Bracing myself, I lifted my hand up and reached back before slapping Booker hard across the face. He jolted awake, knocking me off the sofa and onto the floor and I let out a small yelp. I pushed myself back up into a sitting position to face Booker and I felt my blood run cold, I was staring down the barrel of a gun.

I threw my hands up, "Booker it's me, Livia!" I exclaimed, my heart pounding against my rib cage.

"Livia?" he repeated, slightly slurring my name.

"Surprise!" I cheered weakly.

I heard the safety of the gun flipped back on before he lowered the gun, his eyes narrowed at the sight of me.

Booker placed his gun down the coffee table, "How the hell did you get in here and what the hell do you want?" he questioned, his voice raspy as a deep frown formed on his face.

"Well," I began, using the sofa and table to help me stand back up. "I used some bobby pins from my hair to-"

"You broke in," Booker interrupted.

I lifted a finger, "I knocked first," I pointed out, causing Booker to scoff and roll his eyes. "I was concerned about you Booker," I explained softly, folding my arms together.

Booker scoffed again, "Concerned?" He repeated, raising a skeptical brow. "After what happened Wednesday, I find that very hard to believe," he chuckled derisively, his hand reached out to grab the bottle of booze I previously took from him.

I snatched it from out of his grasp, "Booker, I'm sorry for my reaction, truly I am," I apologized, hoping he would see the sincerity in my eyes. "I just...how did you expect me to react? I'm human." I stated, throwing my hands up slightly.

"I'm human too Livia!" He snapped back, mentally I winced at my choice of words. "Do you think I'm some sort of monster?"

"No! God, no!" I answered, putting the bottle down quickly and taking a seat next to Booker. "Booker, you are very much far from that." I argued, taking a hold of his hands which he only snatched away which felt like a stab to the heart.

Booker stood up from the sofa, "I disgust you, don't I?" He asked. "You've treated me like a leper ever since the dinner!" He stated, glaring at me.

"That's n-" I started, shifting in my seat.

Booker pointed his finger at me. "Don't you dare lie to me!" He growled, cutting me off. "You nearly threw up at the sight of me." He reminded.

I bounced onto my feet, "At your hand, not you!" I argued, shaking my head.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you haven't been avoiding me Livia," Booker said, I opened my mouth to speak but nothing could seem to come out. "You leave your apartment at 7:15 am every morning and you come back at 6:00 pm." He said, and I lifted my eyebrow. "But now you leave earlier and come back much later,"

My brows furrowed. "That's a bit stalkerish," I quipped.

"Livia!"

"Okay, okay," I conceded, raising my arms in surrender. "Yes, I have been avoiding you,” I admitted, watching Booker's reaction. "I was scared, I just witnessed something that should be impossible and I just freaked! And I thought the best way to process it was to avoid it," I explained, running my hands over my hair.

"You don't think that I wasn’t scared as well?" Booker asked, nearly yelling. "What happened that night was my biggest fear, that is why I was so resistant on befriending you. But as time went by and I learned more and more about you, I thought maybe, just maybe, that you'd be different, but you weren't. The moment you discovered my secret you looked me like I was a freak of nature and ran!"

Without thinking, I placed both of my hands on each of Booker's cheeks. "You're not a freak of nature Booker!" I protested, vigorously shaking my head. "It's just as you said, you're human too," I affirmed, gently stroking his cheeks with my thumbs. "Even though you can mysteriously heal yourself," I added, moving my head from side to side.

He narrowed eyes slightly, "You honestly can't help yourself, can you?" He asked, referring to my quips.

"No, I can't," I answered honestly, a faint smile on my lips. Lowering my gaze, I cleared my throat. "Listen, I understand that I hurt you deeply Booker," I began, my voice quiet as I lifted my eyes to meet his. "And if you never want to speak to me again I will-" I continued, but stopped when I felt a pair of hands rest on top of my own.

"Please, don't go," Booker stated, finishing my sentence. "That is...the last thing I would want to happen," he added, a sigh escaping him as he lightly ran his hands down my arms.

A smile of relief broke onto my face and my hands traveled from Booker's cheeks to his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He returned my gesture, embracing me tighter than I held him. It was a intimate moment, one that I would cherish, but there was something that was slightly ruining it for me. It was Booker, or at least his smell.

I pulled back from our embrace, "Booker, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you smell like a garbage bin," I commented, a grin tugging at my lips.

He chuckled and lowered his head, "Thanks Livia," he deadpanned.

"Go freshen up, I'll clean up around here." I told him.

"Livia you don't have to-"

"I want to," I insisted, giving his arms a squeeze and Booker slowly nodded. "Now get to showering, you look like shit," I ordered playfully, dropping my hands from his arms.

"Thank you Livia, I mean it,"

"Anytime Booker," I replied, echoing the words that I said to him when I helped him to his feet from the stairwell outside.

He smiled at me before walking down the hall to where I'm assuming his bedroom was located.

"Let's get to work," I said to myself, taking my coat off and throwing it onto the sofa.

~~~x~~~

I smiled to myself as I shrugged my coat back on, the apartment was spotless more or less so. All the bottles of booze that were scattered about in the kitchen and living room were tossed in a trash bag that was tied up and ready to be thrown away. The shards of glass from the cup was swept up and dumped into the trash bin, I washed the dishes that looked to be untouched since Wednesday, and general tidying up.

"Will you...will you stay with me for tonight?"

I turned around, my eyes wide in surprise at Booker's question.

He stepped back from me, "I've offended you, I'm-"

"No," I disagreed, shaking my head. "You just caught me off guard, that's all," I clarified, a small reassuring smile on my lips. "Since I abandoned you for two days it's the least I can do, right?" I commented, taking my coat back off. "I'll take the sofa if that's all right with you?" I asked, laying the coat down on the armrest of a chair.

Booker cleared his throat, "Um, I was wondering if you would join me...in my bedroom?" he asked awkwardly, shifting on his feet.

Again, my eyes nearly bulged out from my skull. "Wha-What?" I asked back in disbelief, my cheeks heating up.

"Oh God, not in that way," Booker stated, sticking his hands out and shaking them. "I-I just wanted to talk until I dozed off," he clarified, rubbing his neck which seemed to be flushing red.

A smirk made its way on my face, "Some pillow talk, Booker?" I teased, doing air quotes.

"Livia!" he groaned.

"Sorry, sorry," I laughed, making my way towards him. "It was too good to pass up," I remarked, grinning widely. "Lead the way." I said, tapping his shoulder.

Booker guided me down the short hallway to his bedroom, entering the room my eyes slowly looked around the space. It was a spartan room with a full sized bed, a bedside table, a bookshelf lined with vintage edition novels and a couple of bare wardrobes.

"It's so plain," I thought.

"Thanks Livia," Booker said dryly.

I covered my mouth with both of my hands, "Did I say that aloud?" I squeaked, slowly turning my neck to look at him.

Booker chuckled, "It's fine," he reassured, walking to his bed. "It's not like you're wrong," he added.

I kicked my loafers off, "We should decorate it," I suggested, climbing onto the right side of his bed.

Booker slid onto the other side of the bed, "We?" Booker repeated, raising his brow.

I rolled my eyes, "Fine," I huffed, crossing my arms playfully. "You should decorate it," I corrected, leaning back against the headboard and looking at Booker.

A silence fell between us and I found my eyes scanning over the room, seeing things that I didn't notice when I first walked in. There were clothes were strewn all across the floor, if they were clean or dirty, I had no way of knowing. A half drunk bottle of booze rested on top of the bookshelf next to an empty wine bottle. I leaned forward slightly and recognized the label on the bottle, it was the wine that I had opened that created the fiasco that ensued.

"Booker," I called softly, shifting my gaze from the bottle to him.

"Hmmm," He hummed, his eyes closed.

I rolled over to my side to face him, "How bad...did it get?" I asked gently.

Booker exhaled loudly from his nose, "I pretty much spiraled the moment you flew out the door," he answered, opening his eyes. "Since the day you invited me over for tea I hadn't felt the need to drink to drown out my sorrows," he admitted, turning himself onto his side. "But that night, when I saw the look of fear in your eyes, the way you recoiled from me..." Booker let out a humorless chuckle, glancing down at his comforter. "I went on a bender, drinking myself into unconsciousness. It was a rinse and repeat cycle, I would drink one bottle after the other until I would blackout or puke," he explained, picking at a loose thread. "And then, whenever I would wake up, I got to do it all over again," Booker finished, lifting his eyes to mine.

Hesitantly, I moved my hand towards his and gently interlocked our fingers.

"No more running away," I stated, and Booker lifted his gaze from our hands to me. "I'll stick by you, even when times get tough," I promised, softly squeezing his hand.

"That's quite a promise to make," Booker remarked. "What if something else happens and scares you?" he asked quietly, his fingers slightly tensing around mine.

I rolled my eyes, "You can't possibly scare me anymore than you already have Booker," I joked, making him chuckle lightly.

"You'd be surprised."

"Even if you do, c'est la vie,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Life's too short for me to worry about what might happen," I explained, a small smile appearing on my face. "So, by the looks of it, you're stuck with me Booker," I remarked, now full on grinning and planted a quick kiss on his knuckles before slipping my fingers out from his.

"I'm sure there are worse punishments," Booker responded dryly.

I lightly punched him in the arm, "Shut up!" I chuckled, shaking my head. "If it wasn't for me, you'd still smell like a sewer," I pointed out, even though I was slightly exaggerating. "Which by the way, that shower worked wonders on you," I commented, my eye scanning over him.

Instead of seeing greasy and clumped hair, Booker's dark blond hair was clean and had a slight shine to it. His skin had a rosy hue which looked so much better compared to the sallowness I was greeted with earlier. The dark circles were still underneath his eyes, but the shower seemed to reduce them slightly.

"Really?" Booker questioned, lifting a brow. "Did I really look that awful?" He asked again.

Closing my eyes, I breathed out a laugh, "You looked like you got hit by a bus and then they put it in reverse," I joked, finding it hard to reopen my eyes as my body relaxed itself on Booker's bed.

He laughed, "Is that right?" Booker asked again, and I felt his fingers gently brush my hair out of my face before letting them softly trace down my jaw.

The action sent a shiver down my spine, "The gospel truth," I replied, a sleepy smile on my lips.

"Livia," Booker called, I hummed in acknowledgement. "There's...there's something else you should know about me,"

"Shoot," I replied, snuggling myself even further onto the mattress. There was a pause and if it was any longer I would succumb to my drowsiness. "Booker?" I called, a small frown on my face.

He sighed, "I'll tell you the in the morning, yeah?" Booker proposed, placing his hand on top of mine momentarily.

I yawned, "Sounds good to me," I agreed, nodding my head. "Goodnight Booker." I added.

"Good night Livia," Booker echoed.

And just as I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, I heard Booker mutter something in French

"Lumière de ma vie."

Chapter Six: Let’s Try this Again

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH07

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

WC: 4405

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dean floors the Impala, somehow wishing that he had let Cas taken another car, a fucking fast SUV for example, but he’s stuck with his Baby now. He swears loudly at all the other cars on the highway, why are there so many cars at this time anyway? And why are they all in his fucking way?

    *

The lights are out at the front of the Roadhouse but when Dean parks his car, he sees a flicker of light on the inside. Glancing back through the lot, he could spot her car, his heart is still racing. 

Technically, she could be here. He fucking hopes she is.

He hurries out of his car and goes straight for the door. He can be glad that it’s unlocked when he bursts right in; wouldn’t actually have cared if it was locked at all because he was ready to kick that damn door down.

Dean exhales the breath he feels like he’s been holding since he embarked on the drive out here. Was worried sick of where she was, hoped that she didn’t go somewhere with Crowley, fucking prayed that Lucifer didn’t get to her. He doesn’t even know if Lucifer knows about her, wouldn’t surprise him if Lucifer did, because that dude is always ahead of him, and Dean still hasn’t figured out the rat in his own goddamn organization.

Y/N’s here. Had been here probably for a while already by the looks of it. 

She’s standing behind the bar and knocks back the remains of a drink from a tumbler upon seeing him. The bottle next to her looks awfully familiar to his brand of whiskey. The very Glengoyne 30 years single malt whiskey that costs about $700 a bottle, and she just knocks it back like it’s some fucking dollar store liquor. 

Dean chuckles to himself at that, knowing that he would be fucking mad if it was someone else but right about now, the joy of seeing her unharmed and well — and a bit drunk, as she knocks back shots after shots of expensive booze — is a sight for his sore fucking eyes.

“There you are,” He breathes out and there’s a shy smile from the chuckle that tugs away at the corner of his lips. 

He can’t lie, he’s relieved but also he desperately tries to will his heart to fucking calm itself down — the drumming in his ear is getting annoying — which is irony on its own, he reckons, because his heart can never still down when he’s around her.

Y/N makes a snorting sound as she refills her drink, “Well, here I fucking am, aren’t I?” 

Dean eyes widens at the remark and he blinks. She’s feisty, how could he forget.

“How did you get here?”

“Took an Uber,” She shrugs and puts her hand that’s holding the glass up, takes an aim at him and Dean ducks in time to hear it smash against the door behind him, droplets of liquid spill onto his head.

“What the fuck was that for?” Dean snarls in bewilderment, wonders if she did miss him deliberately because he actually thinks that if she really wanted to, she could have hit him square in the face with it, and maybe, it's even what he would deserve.

She takes another glass and pours herself a shot while she chuckles, “Oopsie, it slipped. My bad,” She shrugs and grins darkly before she knocks back another mouthful of drink and then she swallows and pauses to think, placing her index finger to her temple to emphasize it before she speaks, “You invited me to a party, Dean. And, and, and— and then, you left me alone!”

Y/N takes the glass and holds it up, aims it at Dean. He has no problem ducking one more time. Her movements are slowed under the influence but again, he thinks that she doesn’t really want to hit him.

“Hey!” He shouts, taking a step closer. “What happened?” 

He knows that she’s right. He did leave her alone and he’s still fucking sorry, but there must have been something else going on because it can’t be that she’s so upset about him not being by her side for the evening. It can’t be. He refuses to believe it. She had Sam and Jess, and even Cas as company, which, he knows, was still a dick move of him but there was business to be talked through and he hates it as much as she probably did. 

Nonetheless, yeah, he should have been straight with her about the evening. But what could he have told her? 

Sorry, I will be mainly talking business with my illegal business partners because we’re a bunch of gangsters? 

I really want you there but you gotta let me go and take care and discuss about how I gonna fucking move 20 tonnes of narcotics and illegal firearms across country? 

Because that would have gone down fucking great, wouldn’t it?

“What happened? Oh, nothing,” She drinks straight from the bottle now and brushes away the alcohol from her upper lip with the back of her hand, smearing the little lipstick that’s still left on it around her mouth. It’s pink and swollen and he would love to have a taste.

Dean knows that he can’t say it loud, because she’s distraught enough as it is, but she looks fucking cute when she’s upset. Instead of saying anything, because he doesn’t want to anger her more, he sits on the stool and takes the bottle from her and rests the bottle head to his own lip to take a large swig himself. He feels the liquid burn down his throat, warming his stomach, and he squints at how good it feels. He had missed that the whole fucking night. 

“So, you wanna tell me what got you so mad, sweetheart?”

“Don’t sweetheart me,” She hisses and Dean’s trying hard not to laugh, instead he just stares at her, raising his eyebrow in question and waits for her to talk.

She rolls her eyes after a while and sighs audibly, “Oh… I don’t know, maybe just fucking people putting me down all night? And one of them wanted to get in my pants is what happened!” 

Y/N reclaims the bottle and almost drains it in one go.

“Hey, sweetheart, easy on the booze,” Dean pulls the bottle from her hands, spills a little of the brown liquid. She fucking pouts, and it distracts him but he has no time to dwell on that. Not yet. He walks around the bar to stand next to her, “Who did put you down?” 

“Oh, you know, your girlfriend,” She starts and stops when she sees Dean frowning at her, “The tall one? Long beautiful hair, kissable red lips? Tight fucking dress, long legs to die for, come on, don’t tell me you forgot how your girlfriend looks like?” 

He doesn’t answer, instead he keeps on staring, the frown lines getting deeper as he does.

Y/N looks down to her hands that are picking at something invisible on the counter, “Anyway, she said I shouldn’t try so hard because you're way out of my league anyway,” 

Dean reaches out a hand to brush at the loose strand of hair that falls around her face, tucking it back behind her ear before he leaves his hand at the base of her neck. He lowers himself a little, to be able to look her in the eye. Can’t stop staring at her quivering lips, at the pink of her cheeks. 

He smiles a little before he says something, “First of all, she’s not my girlfriend. And second of all, you actually believed her?” 

Her eyes shoot up to meet his, as if she’s challenging him, “So, your girlfriend is the other one then? The one who said that I’m nothing special?” 

Dean is taken aback and frowns some more, for good fucking measure.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. You believed them?” The pressure of Dean’s hand on her neck gets slightly harder.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She takes a step back, walks back out of his grip, “All I know is that I don’t fucking know you.”

“So? You don’t know them either!” He tries to counter but he knows deep inside that she’s right. But also, there’s the fact that he doesn’t know her either. He knows though, that he wants to fucking change that if she gave him one fucking chance.

“I just don’t get it, Dean.”

“What are you not getting into that pretty head of yours?” 

“You have two, stunningly beautiful women swarming around you, who would — and I have no doubt about that — do anything you tell them to, without fucking question. So, tell me. Tell me why did you want me around when you know that you won’t have time for me anyway?” 

He smirks, wonders a little if he reads her right. He thinks he does. 

“Sweetheart, are you jealous by any chance?” 

“No?” It comes out faster than he expects but then she looks away. He chuckles as she squints her eyes and lets out a frustrating throaty shriek to admit defeat, “Yeah, maybe? I don’t know!” Y/N folds her arms over her chest and pouts again.

That damn fucking pout!

Fucking adorable.  

Dean can’t stop grinning. Thinks that he’s not the only idiot here after all. Is relieved that she might be feeling all the things he feels, too. Kind of hopes that she does.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” He chuckles at all the cuteness and takes a step closer, grins some more when she stays rooted and doesn’t back away.

“I don’t get what?” She mumbles angrily and adds, “And I mean, if anything, I am out of your league, it’s not the other way around!” Y/N’s slurring her speech a little too, and Dean thinks it’s damn fucking adorable, wants to actually launch forward, kiss her stupid, and make her stop talking, make her feel what he really thinks of her but —

—he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

He doesn’t want her to think he’s only interested in one thing. He’s not that shallow, at least not anymore. Even though he wants nothing more than to feel her. Feel her skin on his skin, feel her heartbeat underneath him. Wants to hear her moan his name, wants to see the pleasure in her eyes, the glow on her face, wants to hear her beg for more.

He throws his head back upon hearing what she said and laughs loudly, making her punch him in his chest and Y/N’s giggling, too, “Yeah, you are.” He agrees with the biggest of smiles. 

“And who wanted to get in your pants?” He raises an eyebrow, because that’s the real question here, hopes it’s not one of his men because he’d rather not kill one of his own. 

His heart is thumping in his chest as he watches her frown and bite down on her bottom lip. Someone clearly has an expiration date coming up. Fucking hell, Dean’s hands balls into fists at the suspense.

“The mayor,” 

Well, he can’t kill that one either, sadly, even though he fucking wants to.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Dean feels agitated. He’s not surprised by the revelation, because Crowley is known to hit on anything on heels, “How?” He can’t help but ask, even though he’d rather not know the answer to his question.

“He said he thinks that I’m very cute and he’d like to offer me a job. Asked if I wanted to go to his mansion upstate with him tonight, he’d like to show me how good a real man could make me feel.”

That sneaky little motherfucker , Dean thinks, and he feels the urge to leave, to drive back and give Crowley an earful for hitting on—

—on what ? 

His girl? She’s not even his. Dean would love to call her that one day though, there’s no denying. Can’t possibly deny that he would like to claim her, mark her as his, so that everyone fucking knows and nobody wouldn’t dare to try to mess around with what’s his .

“Wow,” Dean huffs out, takes a step back from her as a precaution because suddenly, he very much wants to punch something, or shoot someone, “Straight down to business that man, huh? And what did you say?”

He closes his eyes, kind of fears the answer, but he knows that she’s here now so she didn’t go back with that dick. Still, it upsets him very much.

“Said that I liked my job and that I have STD. He backed off right away. I could literally see him walking backwards.”

Dean snorts out a laugh. He laughs louder than normal, probably. But he doesn’t really care because he’s so fucking relieved. Y/N laughs with him. The sound of it is sweet and warm, smooth like honey, something he’d love to hear more often.

They both need some time to calm down after.

“So, can I ask you something?” He’s standing right in front of her again and waits for her to look up to him. His heart is doing somersaults and it’s a weird thing to be feeling, “How much did you eat tonight?” 

“Ugh,” She squints her eyes to think and Dean’s having a hard time not to laugh at the drunk girl in front of him, “I don’t think I did eat anything.”

“Not even the little bits and pieces that've been served tonight?”

“Nope,” Y/N shakes her head, “Too busy drinking my frustrations away,”

“Ah,” He grins, “Understandable. So, let’s go get something into your belly to soak up all of that booze you drank, shall we?” He takes her hand and pulls her along with him. He looks back to see her puzzled face, laughs because she’s wobbly on her feet, “I know the best burger place in town.” Dean winks and smiles brightly before he pushes the door open into the night.

“But, I gotta clean up the mess!” She exclaims, pulling at his hand and already wants to run to the back to probably get the broom and shovel, Dean assumes.

He let out a hearty laugh, holding her hand a little tighter not letting her go, “Y/N, let it go, take the stick out of your ass. You don’t always have to be good, alright?”

She blushes at that.

*

Dean parks his car when they arrive and walks over to her side to help her out. The night’s chilly and she didn’t have the time to get a coat as he practically dragged her out of the bar. He notices her shivering, so he takes off his jacket, drapes it over her shoulder, which earned him the sweetest of smiles from her. One that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

It’s weird but he slowly gets used to it, gets used to the constant fluttering and beating of his heart. He still doesn’t like it, though.

“Come on,” He says, offering her a hand and holds on to her when she places her hand in his.

He threads his fingers through hers, his thumb brushing over her wrist, painting figure eights on her skin as they walk towards the little shop.

“Wow,” She lets out when she sees the queue of people. “It’s way past 2am and they are still queueing?”

“Don’t worry, I get special treatment,” Dean winks with a cocky smile.

Y/N rolls her eyes and he huffs out a laugh. 

He holds her tighter when he pushes a way through all the people queuing and waiting, “The best burger in town,” He turns his head back to tell her and wiggle his eyebrows and she raises hers, as if she wants to say that the jury’s still out on that one. 

Dean ignores the shouts from the others who told them to get in line, as they walk past that said line, and he only glances back to shoot them a mean look. Sure enough, nobody said another word to him after. 

He pushes his way into the small burger shop. The interior is lined up by only a couple of seats in the front next to the counter and a long bar to stand and eat your burgers. Dean looks around before he sees a big bulky man in a baseball cap coming towards them.

“Dean!” The man pulls Dean into a hug. Dean’s hand is still holding Y/N’s and it makes the hug super awkward but Dean takes it, relishes himself in the familiar feeling.

“Hey Bobby, you got a table for us?” 

“Of course, I do. For you always!” Bobby’s as cheerful as ever. 

He takes them to the back where there are a couple more tables set up that are not occupied. Dean knows that Bobby keeps this space especially for Dean’s people and the people Bobby trusts. 

It’s simple, easy and, in Dean’s opinion, that’s the charm of the whole place. Dean likes being here. It always feels like coming home.

Bobby finishes cleaning the table for them and braces his hands on his hips, his belly standing out a little. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

“Bobby, that’s Y/N,” Dean introduces her, “Y/N, meet Bobby. He used to feed me when I was younger.” Dean says and he actually wanted to warn her, wanted to tell her that Bobby’s a big hugger but it’s too late. Bobby scoops her up in a big bear embrace and she squeals a little while Dean couldn’t hold back, throwing his head back as he holds his belly laughing.

“So lovely to meet you!” Bobby almost shouts, “You know, Dean here, all you see, that’s my doing. He was so thin the first time he walked in here.” Then he turns to Dean, “You should have told me you’re bringing a lady around. You never bring ladies! I would have cleaned up a little more!” Bobby’s eyes trail to the empty boxes and cartons that are standing around the empty tables.

“Bobby, it’s fine, you’re doing good,” Dean pats Bobby’s shoulder and the older guy nods.

Dean waits for Y/N to sit down before he takes a seat himself. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Can I get you the usual?” Bobby asks and Dean opens his mouth to say something but Bobby doesn’t even wait for Dean to answer, already knows that whatever he brings would be alright for him. So Dean closes his mouth again, fully aware that Bobby just made a goddamn fool out of him. Dean raises his eyebrows and laughs it off.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” He’s still grinning and she’s still out of breath from Bobby. He can see, even in the dimly lit space, that her cheeks are flushed and she’s clutching at her chest. 

“It’s okay. What does he mean he fed you?” She asks and Dean knows that the part didn’t slip her mind. She’s attentive, even when she’s slightly drunk. 

Dean’s mind races, wondering how much he can tell her. How much he should tell her.

“Bobby’s been like a father to me,” He explains, “My dad died some years ago, before I went to Afghanistan. Long story short, I didn’t really take care of myself because I had new responsibilities and was engrossed in my new position at a job I didn’t really want in the first place and frankly just went for days without eating properly because there was simply no time.” Dean could see the frown on her face and pauses before he tries to smile, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, look at me, I did alright, didn’t I? Bobby delivered food every day after he saw me at dad’s funeral, the old man wanted to make sure that I didn’t waste away.”

Her face falls, creases are showing between her brows and dammit, he wants to ease them away, preferably with a kiss. 

He stares at her, watches as her face softens, “Y/N, I didn’t tell you tonight when I saw you, but you look lovely.”

She blushes visibly, mumbles a thank you without looking him in the eye as a small smile tugs at her lips. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and Dean can’t stop staring at her, she’s definitely the prettiest thing he ever did see. 

Bobby arrives with burgers and fries, interrupting them and Dean laughs, telling her to dig in. 

What Dean learns during the meal is that she doesn’t share fries. Well, she doesn’t share hers but she wants him to share his . He laughs when he tells her that it’s not fair until Bobby overhears them and brings another big tray of fries, she grins brightly at Bobby and thanked him.

Bobby also keeps beer and drinks flowing, which Dean thinks, is counter productive, since he actually brought her here to sober up, not to get her more wasted, but he can’t find it in his heart to tell the old man off, so he kind of tries to get as much food into her as possible.

“Why did Sam introduce you as a war hero?” She asks and he looks up to see her taking a bite out of her now second burger.

He swallows down the bite he just took and licks his lips, “I came back unharmed.” 

Y/N raises an eyebrow, knowing that there’s more to it and Dean doesn’t really know if he should tell, or rather, what he should tell her.

He inhales and exhales audibly before he talks, “I wasn’t on duty that day, meaning that if you’re not on active duty, you’re supposed to help supply the battle positions with ammunition. It was before 6.00AM when it all started,” Dean tries to keep his voice low and calm because his heart is picking up speed again when he thinks back, “We were attacked by around 300 enemy fighters, which is not really a lot but considering that we were only a little more than 50, that’s quite a fucking lot,”

Dean closes his eyes just briefly, the image is right behind his eyelids. It’s like a fucking bad movie that keeps on playing on replay.

“I ran, or sometimes, crawled from one battle position to the other supplying them with what they needed to keep on firing and defend our position. Ran yards across open ground, and it rained fucking bullets, until I got into the Humvee for shelter. We’ve been shot at though.”

He can see the frown on her face but she doesn’t say anything and she stops eating to listen to him, so he goes on.

“They went out to look for the others and that’s where Milligan got shot. I couldn’t leave him there so I ran to him, brought him back to the Humvee and somehow, I managed to get him to the aid station where the doctors were working on the other injured already.”

He reaches out for his beer and takes a large gulp, his throat feels awfully dry all of a sudden. 

“They started to work on Milligan right away,” Dean chuckles but it’s not a happy kind of chuckle, “All he did was ask me over and over again if I had a cigarette, which of course I didn’t. I went right out there again though, and started to supply the gunners with more ammo. Somehow, we managed to push them back and there were choppers flying in to bomb the enemies after a long and loud day. They also flew Milligan right out as soon as they could.”

Dean takes a break to drink again, swallowing the tears in the process.

“I came home and received a Medal of Honor, still didn’t think I deserved it though. And for Milligan, he didn’t make it,” Dean’s voice is small, “Can you believe that the last thing he asked for was a goddamn cigarette and I couldn’t even give him that.”

Y/N reaches over, covering his big hand with her small one, drawing lazy circles on his skin with her thumb and Dean likes that. Likes how it soothes him. “It’s not your fault, Dean.”

“I know,” He nods. 

“You did the best you could. And you deserved it. You’re a hero, Dean,” She squeezes his hand and he can see in her eyes that she really means it.

Dean changes the subject pretty fast after that, not really wanting to tell her about what came after. Doesn’t want to tell her about the nightmares, and the depression that followed.

But still. 

Still, he hasn’t felt so relaxed and free in a long time. Has never felt like himself more than tonight. He wasn’t Dean Winchester, the mob boss. He doesn’t have to pretend, doesn’t have to play a role. It’s easy, talking to her, watching her, getting to know more about her, even if she does not reveal a whole damn lot.

It’s so easy being around her that he begins to think of what could be. And it’s a dangerous thought that he shouldn’t be thinking, he knows, because honestly, he doesn’t want to drag her into this life. Into his life. It’s not exactly a nice one.

He likes how she listens to him, how she’s taking everything in and gives him honest thoughts and opinions. How she doesn’t try to impress him at all (she wouldn’t have to anyway). 

The easiness, the laughter…  that’s good, isn’t it?

It is. Dean decides. 

But also it is kind of terrifying, he can’t lie about that. The real question here is, Dean thinks, can he afford to let himself fall in love? Is he willing to risk everything for a woman?

 *

 “‘M not druuunk,” Y/N giggles and almost stumbles over her own two feet as they are getting up to leave.

Dean lets out a soft chuckle, “Who would dare to think that?!”

“I’m—”

She trips, and Dean’s there to take the fall, placing his hand around her waist and holds her upright.

“Just toptipsy,” She laughs and leans in, buries her face into his chest and closes her eyes.

“Yes, you are,” Dean grins, strokes her head with one of his free hands, “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

CH08

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“triad”

Chapter 14: the sleeping world

Shorter chapter than usual, but get ready to see the result of all that secret true time magic training!

“Jesus Christ, you’re with a WOMAN now?!” Both Augustus and Sekke look like their eyes are about to bulge out of their faces, gazes snapping back and forth from me and Adeline’s clasped hands and our faces. Augustus splutters incoherently before pointing his sceptre at me accusingly. “I knew it! I knew  you were just using Julius for the power! And now that he’s gone-”

“Your majesty-” I cut him off before he can actually start to upset me. “There’s such a thing as bisexuals, you know.”

“JFDSKL WHAT ON EARTH-”

Adeline bites her lip to suppress her words, and gives my hand a squeeze. I glance up at her, noticing that she’s starting to get a little uncomfortable. It’s fair, given that her history with Augustus is less than pleasant. I smile and squeeze back before continuing to walk past Augustus as he has his tantrum. We’ve just arrived on top of a large overlook, in the same area where the Royal Knights exam took place months and months ago. I had some of the royal mages terraform it, creating a large lake, plain, and forest. But from up here, we can see it all perfectly. What is this all for, exactly?

In order to increase morale and get some intense training in, I decided to make the Captains fight each other in a crystal destruction tournament. Not the most original idea, I must admit, but it will do its job. These last few weeks have been absolutely insane. The Devil Banishers/Believers incident was a real hassle to get through, and ended up costing us more than we thought. But it’s all over now, and it’s time to get some real work done before we send our representatives over to the Heart Kingdom.

And for me… 

Today, I’ll see if my own intense training has paid off.

“Hey, where’s Fluffy?”

Yami crosses his arms before looking around. He and the other captains are already here, milling around awkwardly. I haven’t told them their teams yet, but everyone is already shooting each other dirty looks. “Huh, that’s weird, Rill didn’t tell me he was skipping.”

“Of course that brat skipped! At his age, he’d be skipping school, too, Keh Keh!” Jack cackles, licking his lips. “I was looking forward to slicing him up…”

“Well, what if he ended up on your team?” Charlotte points out.

“... did I stutter?”

“Please, save the fighting for the battlefield,” Nozel steps in before Charlotte can retort. “You’re going to need all the energy you have.”

Fuegoleon looks very eager to go, bouncing on the balls of his feet and flexing his fiery arm across his chest. I eye his movement suspiciously, getting distracted. “How come your shirt doesn’t catch on fire too?”

He shrugs, but gives me a grin. “Maybe today will be the day I burn so hot it does char my clothes.”

I clear my throat awkwardly before turning away to look at everyone. “Anyway- if Rill is a no-show then it’ll be 4 on 4. Now…” Admittedly, this changes my plans a little, but no matter. “Team one will be Yami, Jack, Nozel, and Kaiser.”

“WHAT? I have to be on a team with this stinkbug-” Yami immediately objects, but cuts himself off as I shoot him a glare. “Fine, whatever.” He catches Charlotte’s eye and suddenly grins. “Heh, looks like you’ll have to fight me, prickly-queen.”

“Good. I’ve been looking forward to teaching you a lesson.” Charlotte’s eyes only harden.

“Ooooh, why do I kind of like the sound of that?”

“Why-” Charlotte quickly turns pink. “You vulgar-”

“SO! Those are the teams!” I step in between them, smiling brightly despite the mounting tensions. “Marx just gave me the go-ahead for the broadcast, so I want you all to go down there-” I gesture out onto the plains. “-and await my signal!”

“Thank you.” Without another word, the eight of them split apart and jump down to their stations, gearing up for what promises to be a spectacular fight. I let out a sigh before turning to walk back to my chair, where Adeline, Augustus, and Sekke are waiting. William didn’t say a word… I don’t even remember him looking me in the eye while I was talking to the captains. Well, that’s just another thing I’ll have to do today.

“Hello?” A screen suddenly opens up next to me, and I see Marx’s face appear. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yep!” Before I sit down, I turn back to the arena. I raise my arm, two fingers pointing up, and set off a powerful blast of magic, a bolt that goes careening into the air with a loud whoosh. It’s the signal to go, and boy… do they GO! 

The battle that commences is like nothing I’ve seen before. Each of them knows they’re being watched by the entire kingdom via Marx’s communication magic, so they hold nothing back. Fire, mercury, darkness, plants, and everything in between goes flying, each of them desperately reaching for the other’s crystal while keeping theirs just out of reach. Half of the fight moves into the forest, the trees warping and billowing as William builds his own path out of his magic. Nozel and Fuegoleon only have eyes for each other, Salamander burning so hot that the lake starts to evaporate and steam up underneath it and Fuegoleon.

Their magic heats the air, sends vibrations through the earth, and towers high into the sky.

For a moment, I can’t help but feel guilty.

All three of them… would have made wonderful Wizard Kings. They are men who put their duty first, men who wouldn’t get caught up in the cycle of grief and greed like I would.

They are human men… they could care for this Kingdom far better than I could.

A soft hand squeezes my shoulder. Somehow, Adeline always knows what I’m thinking.

But… at the end of the day… the responsibility falls to me. Maybe I’m running out of time, maybe I’m compromised emotionally, but I made a promise, to Julius, to Adeline, and myself. 

I am the Wizard King… and today, I’ll show everyone why!

Right then, without warning, the entire earth rumbles. I reach up and grab Adeline’s hand with one of my own, the other grasping the arm of my chair. Augustus yowls with fear, and Sekke goes tumbling to the ground. “What on earth is that?!” Adeline gasps.

My eyes widen, and I quickly point out into the forest. “Look!” A giant slash of darkness appears, tearing through the trees. A chill shoots through the air, causing every hair on my arms to stand at end. Oh shit! That’s Yami’s Dimension Slash! A grin grows on my face as it dissipates as soon as it appeared, leaving nothing but an eerie silence in its wake.

“Um… are they okay?” Adeline asks, narrowing her eyes as she scans the area. “I can’t hear any more fighting?”

“Huh… did Yami kill everyone?”

Just as I ask the question, I spot a group of people emerge from the forest. A few minutes later, they’re back up on the platform, and drop the shards of their crystals at my feet. I arch a brow, glancing between their faces. “What happened, exactly?”

“It’s no fair!” Dorothy grumbles. “I had Yami trapped in Glamour World, but then he just cut his way out!”

“And he destroyed both crystals while he was at it.” Kaiser gives Yami the side eye.

“Hey! I think our team should win. I did destroy the enemy’s crystal, after all.” Yami looks terrible; he’s covered with bruises and his white shirt is stained with what looks like dirt. His hair is so out of place he looks like a different person.

“BUT! You destroyed your own as well,” Fuegoleon objects loudly. “That lack of care should lead to a loss for your team!”

I can’t help but laugh, drawing their attention back to me. “This sure is a weird circumstance that I didn’t see coming… but…” I smirk as I start to realize my plan. “Maybe we should do a tiebreaker instead?”

“What is she doing?” Augustus was watching from his chair, talking to no one in particular. He glanced over at Adeline for a moment, who started to look very worried.

What is she up to?

“A tiebreaker?” Yami almost laughs at the suggestion. “Do any of us look like we’re ready for a tiebreaker?!”

“For once, I agree with him,” Nozel adds. He doesn’t look as bad as Yami, but his trademark braid is barely holding together after the furious exchange he and Fuegoleon just traded. Fuegoleon’s clothes are crisped at the edges, soot and smoke clinging to every part of him. During this tournament, even his own flames scorched through whatever usually protected him.

“I know you’re all exhausted! At least, you look exhausted.” I smile cheerfully between all eight Captains. “But, like I said, ending this with a tie isn’t all that satisfying… but!” I hold up a finger, finally getting to the point. “You’ll like what I have in mind! It’s easy!”

“Oh yeah?” Despite how tired he looks, Yami manages to grin, his hand already moving to the handle of his katana. “Spit it out, then.”

I keep smiling, almost giggling at his eagerness, but when I speak, my words are deadly serious.

“All you have to do to win… is make me move from where I’m standing.”

The earth stands still for a moment as my words sink in. Yami’s lighthearted expression suddenly fades into worry. Out of everyone here, he’s the only one who knows I’m pregnant, I think, maintaining my smile. He’s probably a little hesitant about attacking me… but the others…

“So…” Fuegoleon frowns. “We just… hit you? Knock you down?”

“If you want!” I reply cheerfully. “I’m sure some of you are angry at me for one reason or another, so…” My gaze sweeps over and lands on William. His eyes widen just the tiniest bit, but for once he doesn’t look away.

“Take out your anger. Make me move, if you can.”

Each of them is tired, exhausted, beaten and bruised, but that gleam enters their eyes as I tell them to come at me. That gleam comes back into William’s eyes. Because, above all, these Captains are the best in this Kingdom… and they want nothing more than to prove themselves. For glory, and for death.

All at once, their Grimoires are out, their faces shining with determination. Spells are being cast, and eight bodies move towards me with as much speed as they can muster. A moment of frenetic fury, because the first of them to hit me will be crowned the victor.

If they can hit me. This is my time to prove myself.

With a deep breath, I close my eyes before any of them can reach me. As soon as darkness falls, I can feel it; mana pulsing from the earth, up through my legs, and out with each breath I release. 

The laws of nature… Time is at the center of them all.

I open my eyes, and the spell activates. Mana words, glowing whitish-blue, burst to life around my head in a spectacular double halo. Mana courses through my body; a body that was made for the purpose of holding mana. The body that deems me as inhuman, that houses a broken, dying soul, yet gives me the power I want more than anything.

“True Time Magic… Domain of Thanatos.”

Each rune circling my body spells out the same word: Stop.

And that’s exactly what happens. 

------

This ability is True Time Magic: Domain of Thanatos.

Thanatos… the god of peaceful, non violent death.

Julius’s Time Magic had the power to steal and give time as he wished, from any object that he could please. But he could not control TIME itself. Time as it exists in nature, a rushing river, always moving forward.

But even a river can freeze.

This magic gives me control over that river, over the speed that it flows. Although I cannot force it backwards… I can slow it down until it stops.

With this ability, I put the entire world to sleep.

With this ability… no one will ever stop me.

-------

The moment my spell activates, all eight of the captains freeze, and their attacks become suspended in midair. I let out a slow breath, allowing a smile to grow on my face. My hand stays frozen in the air for the time being, because I have to calculate every single move with the upmost precision.

See, the catch to stopping time is that it doesn’t last very long if I just start moving. Maybe two or three seconds at most. However, I managed to find a condition where I can stretch the length of time within Domain of Thanatos; I allow time to start to flow with my movements, so slow and smooth, but just fast enough that I can do what I want.

So… easy now…

One finger. Then the next. And another. Until I’m no longer reaching out; I’m pointing. My first target is Yami.

Sorry… this’ll only hurt for a second.

With each finger, he only twitches slightly, moving forward a mere millimeter. 

Flame magic: Solar Bolt.

My attack shoots through him, as fast as outside of this spell.

And now… the others… 

I move in a half circle, one by one, casting my bolt and watching them fail to react to being hit. It’s surreal, being here all alone in some weird little world. But I remind myself that this solitude is because I am in control. 

Finally, William is hit, the last of my eight targets. I let out a shaky breath, my smile widening. So… now I just have to worry about their spells. Each of them have only moved a few inches, but are now getting dangerously close. With each Solar Bolt I fired, they clipped closer, sped up in time with my spell. I can feel my control weakening, and something that smells like blood is starting to bubble up in my nose. Despite that, I stay calm, letting Blazing Spear materialize in my hand. 

And…

I take one last breath of air within Domain of Thanatos. 

Release.

My arm swings through the air, bringing the spear along with it, and I slash through the spells, my trajectory carefully calculated due to the observations I made earlier. I have to duck once though, avoiding Yami and Dorothy’s spells. I look up just in time to see the eight of them stumble back and fall, stunned by the instant attack that came from seemingly nowhere. 

“Look at that… I’m still standing.”

Yami groans and rolls back up into a sitting position, a curious glint in his tired eyes. “What the Hell was that?”

“I’m wondering the same thing.” Nozel winces, clutching the spot where my bolt hit him. “How fast did you just move?”

I let out a little laugh, a twinkle in my eye. “Actually, I moved very slow… I made everything move very slow.” 

Most of them have sat up by now, all of them still shocked and disoriented, but now they’re looking at me in a new way. The look in their eyes is familiar; it’s the same way they all used to look at Julius in battle. The shock, the awe… the admiration.

Are they really looking at me?

In that moment, my pride deflates. Despite the fact that now, maybe, they can see me as more than just Julius’s replacement, I feel so… humbled. These eight amazing people accept me.

Even William, the one I manipulated and betrayed, sits there with a smile on his face. An easy, happy smile that I remember from our days together long ago.

Finally, I clear my throat.

“That… that was true time magic.” I take a step towards them as I explain. “I developed it by applying the Heart Kingdom’s methods to my Time magic. There’s still a lot to explore, but one thing is certain.”

I come to a stop in front of William, then hold out my hand.

Please William… forgive me.

“We can all get stronger… think carefully about who you send to the Heart Kingdom.”

William’s smile fades, but the expression on his face is one of understanding.

Of course I forgive you. You’re my friend.

“This magic is our hope.”

He takes my hand, and I pull him to his feet.

NEXT TIME!!!! Chapter 15: the devil comes knocking. A short time skip into the future, and shit is about to go DOWN.

[ladylesso]

thea gushes over kate's "alex vs the school for good" fanfic

i've reread this fanfic twice before it was finished but now it's finished, therefore i will read this beautiful work of art a third time and i have no regrets because this is the best fanfic in the entire fandom and i love kate so let's go (u never asked for it but here it is @pumpkinpaperweight)

i love how alex's close relationship with her parents, especially tedros, is already established within the first scene

alex is so witty and her mind is so sharp i've missed her so much :')

alex ribbin on tedros and agatha laughin as a sign of encouragement is my favorite thing

chapter 3: hooray for teenage angst

I STILL CAN'T GET OVER THE FACT THAT TEDROS NAMED HIS DOG CHICKEN THAT IS SUCH A TEDROS THING TO DO

will there be a one shot on the multiple ooty ambassor incidents????? i am Excited

"...and the author of this tale had lost their copy of The School for Good and Evil, and therefore could not remember exactly what the School for Good was meant to look like. They were running entirely off memory, and not doing a bad job, all things considered." KATE AKSKSJDKLFJ

get this: what if the camelot years were just a fever dream and alex vs is canon. what if.

chapter 10: these dogs are still alive for plot devices and comic relief don't @ me

marcy girl chill out

omg dean cromwell vs alex wearing the boys' uniform scene - iconic and sora-approved

oh my god i actually thought sophie stopping thorne was a scene in the actual books instead of in alex vs skdjkdfs

i love kate's adult! sophie - very realistic and in character

chapter 13: HA! GAY!

talib and sora my babies my precious my lovelies

"talib grinned, looking back in the direction of the classroom - sora kept looking at him and missed a step on the stairs" gay

chapter 15: my gran could do better, and she killed a warlock with a cheesecake - I LOVE THE CHAPTER TITLES SO MUCH

alex is so precious why are people being so mean to her :'( sora and i will happily burn them alive

"chaddick and lancelot always smacked her with the butt of the sword to signify a hit, but tedros had tended to sort of half-heartedly shove her off of the mat, unwilling to hurt her" tedros being a good and caring soft dad :')

"alex, what does your dad have?" "low self-esteem?" JESUS ALEX SKDFJLSDJFLJFSLDJ

"alex's temper was utterly uncontrollable, and hort didn't know how he'd forgotten- now it was all rushing back to him in one big, rather traumatic, wave" I'M LAUGHING

omg four year old alex defending her father i'm heart eyes

#i don't like this cromwell bat bring dovey back

"sora's brain was still trying to work out which panic he should prioritise more -the super deadly predators trotting at his feet, or the fact that talib was holding his hand?" Gay

seeing alex cry is like seeing a friend crying - it makes you sad and murderous

"we have been in so many fights.” said alex tiredly. “i wish our author would think of something else. but she won’t, it’s the Trial by Tale next, and that’s all fighting” KATE

chapter 21: EMMA, THEY'RE HOMOSEXUALS

"sora had snatched nadiya’s handkerchief and thrown it to talib like a maid watching her favourite knight" [crying] i would kill a small child for them

sora and alex trying to hide behind each other at the same time is makin me burst into hysterics

oooo sora bout to murder a bitch

sophie acting like an actual dean :')

nadiya's such a queen we stan

june being friends with talib and fondly calling him an idiot is my new religion

alex saying she's the "loser daughter" and me knowing that tedros and agatha are watching her right now hurts. thanks a lot kate

june and thorne???? ship????

omg sora laying it on thick and pretending to be unconscious so talib could carry him sldjsdlkfjdslf

SORA COMPLIMENTING TALIB ON HOW BEAUTIFUL HE LOOKS IN FRONT OF THEIR CLASSMATES

"my darling angel prince" that's Gay "sora fiddled with talib's collar" GAYYYYY

"gentle marital dispute" i adore kate's humor

TALIB PUNCHING THORNE TO PROTECT SORA

"wow,” said sora dreamily.

“he just punched someone in the face, sora,” sighed marcy.

“i’m dying, not blind. that was hot--”

im going to have a heart attack

sora dragging tedros is my new favorite thing

"sora smiled in a very self-satisfied sort of way, almost as if he knew the annoyance he’d caused several hundred miles away" this is sora's true talent

i love how alex breaks the 4th wall

sora: i don't know whether you've noticed, alex, but i can be really rude?

alex: ur not that rude to me

sora: because i thought it might make u cry

:') i love their friendship so much

yes alex! call him out! sora IS emotionally constipated!

omg im curious as to what color alex's fingerglow is

OMG ALEX'S TALENT IS RELATED TO AGATHA'S I LOVE IT

newsflash cromwell! we don't care about ur reputation OR you

alex clutching onto her aunt's arm :'(

awwwwhhh alex w curly hair!! <3

talib is the sweetest boy ever oh my goodness

OH MY GOD HE'S A PISCES OF COURSE KSJFSDJF SOFT BOY

sora is an aquarius HAHA suits him

alex's dramatic entrances are clearly from sophie's influence :')

talib gifting sora roses that's Gay

sora foreshadowing how ros and raiden will get along >:)

sora is a grumpy old man in a 16 year old body but WILL eat his friend's questionably edible birthday cake made for him don’t test him

TALIB AND SORA KISSING QUEEN KATE REALLY DELIVERS

SORA MAKING THE FIRST MOVE I AM SCREECHING I AM GOING TO BITE MY ARM OFF

oh my go d talib don't go ohmygod kate why

OMG ROSALINE POV I'M EXCITED

agatha planning a wrestling match with her and tedros vs cromwell and agatha confirming that the coven have spilled blood over june and will not hesitate to do it again is my favorite thing

if u look closely or if u look at all, ros is clearly a never

tedros: i don't have favorites

agatha: i do. you're my least favorite

tedros: i'm ur husband

agatha: so?

omg alex is tedros' favorite and marcus is agatha's favorite so does that mean ros is sophie's favorite

and now we're in marcus' POV? kate just keeps delivering

omg the famous camelot family scene i've been waiting for is finally coming to fruition

it's official: we stan emi

whenever i hear somebody call agatha the queen of camelot, i get this tight ache of pride in my chest

i love how marcus just looks at his father and tedros knows exactly what he's asking :')

raiden and the twins, marcus and ros? my Body is Ready for ros vs

WHAT IS IT WITH PEOPLE SLAMMING THE DOOR OPEN IN THIS FANFIC KSHFDJFSLJLJ

anemone campaigning for a ranking board that says who has the hots for who is something i can get behind

"there was a brief scuffle whilst both tedros and agatha fought to hug alex at the same time, which she didn't look in the least bothered about" ALEX FAMILY TIME YAY <3

alex introducing agatha, her famous mother, to her roommates is one of my favorite things

"alex stuck her tongue out at her and went back to rifling in her mother's cloak pockets for food" if this isn’t me -

alex being a wingwoman to make her mom sign marcy's copy of the tale of sophie and agatha is my favorite thing #1972934794

talib not recoginizing tedros as the king of camelot but as alex's dad :')

THE COLD SHOULDER SMOULDER

i love how ros could tell how much a fashion piece costs and what material it is just by looking at it

"there was a resounding crash, and another blade caught his, halfway" i love how tedros entered into this chapter kate is such a good writer

im lovin these marcus and ros descriptions

"rosalind and marcus looked at each other, then, slowly, back at jimmy. both of them suddenly looked a lot older than they were. raiden wondered how much damage they could do as a team. probably quite a lot" "raiden resisted the urge to squish marcus's cheeks" ROS VS HERE I COME

sophie rushing bc she senses drama is a big mood

omg i love these camelot year references

"...whilst tedros tried to pretend he hadn't just tried to shove agatha behind him, and awkwardly returned Excalibur to its sheath" his instincts :')

people mentioning that alex is a big sister makes me feel warm inside

the image of tedros braiding rosalind's hair gives me heart eyes

OMG GIN MILLS AND THE GOODS REFERENCE HAHA I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE KATE

im glad they're talking about alex and the reverse mogrification incident! i am also Intrigued

wait i thought ros and marcus were 10 years old? but agatha mentions how ros is 13? did i miss something

alex and hester aunt and niece relationship :')

this unspoken understanding between the pendragons is everything bless u kate

"i love it when Evers act like Nevers," emi told her grandsons from under her tree. “it’s good for the liver.”

EMI KNOWS ROS IS A NEVER SHE CALLED IT

oh alex u sweet darling child of course sora and talib are boyfriends even thorne could see it

this alex and thorne thing? gotta say,,,,,, i see the ship possibilities

SORA YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BUFFOON JUST TALK TO YOUR BOYFRIEND TALIB OH MY GOD

omg the everboys sitting in the beautification lesson im excited

emma,,,,... darling,,,,.........,,, they're Gay

i support alex's plan to look hot for the snow ball and single-handedly destroy the buffet

i love how tyler and marcy are in the squad now :')

anemone: WHO

talib: i'm not telling u!

anemone: WHICH GIRL

talib: not a - not a. uh, girl

anemone: I RESPECT THAT ALSO

tyler, nadiya, and marcy quietly discussing alex's type LKSDJFLSJFK

sora im bout to body slam u talk to ur bf u idiot donkey don't be like teenage tedros and agatha

"akiyama sora is a dead man," muttered nadiya" i bow to one (1) queen

SORA'S GAY PANIC

chapter 29: fellas is it gay to protect roses from winter damage

"poor thing,” she added as an afterthought. alex was forcibly reminded of her aunt’s 100% Evil status"

i love these scenes with sophie <3

"er. it's okay, professor," said sora's mouth. alex for the love of christ help me you useless git, said sora's eyes"

FINALLY SORA YOUR TWO BRAIN CELLS KISSED AND EXPERIENCED COMMON SENSE

alex saying marcy has horrible taste in men but swearing to take tyler's kidneys if he doesn't go for marcy - true friendship

AWWWWHHHHHH ALEX CAME UP WITH THE IDEA FOR THE EVERGIRLS WHO DON'T WANT DATES TO GO TO THE SNOW BALL WITH ANEMONE <333333

anemone just said the f word is this legal

the amount of times i've screamed over sora nd talib is too much to count - sometimes in excitement and sometimes in pain

"he was cut off when talib seized his collar and kissed him, much harder than sora had kissed him the first time" my lungs are exploding

ANEMONE IS ME I AM ANEMONE

"sora exercised all the curse words he knew in her native language. alex grinned. "you sound like ros. except ros knows more words" oh??????????

i've smiled more reading chapter 29 than i have this whole year

sora: weren't u listening to the announcement yesterday

alex: who was doing the announcing?

sora: pollux

alex: nope

love that tedros deemed his wedding outfit a Sacred Object

i love how tedros and rosalind bond over fashion

alex has a daily ritual of high-fiving the statue of king arthur, her grandfather. i love her.

omg tedros adopting a pseudo father figure role over tyler love that

i said love so many times but i can't help it this fic is just too good

it's official: sora is alex's partner in crime

so just to catch up, the squad consists of alex, nadiya, sora, talib, tyler, marcy, and june - and out of this chaos rises a mom friend: nadi

i never knew how much i wanted to see the teachers gossiping until i got it

of course agatha never hired a nanny for her children she loves them too much to ever not raise them herself >:((((((

magazine with a pic of talib: major hottie alert!

sora: finally, some high-end journalism

kate ur mind is amazing

omg i love this curses! the musical plot point im excited

ros? as the queen of camelot? Sign Me Up

SORA ND ALEX WROTE THE SCRIPT KSJFSDLJFSLD HERE WE GO

alex is drawing a six pack on her stomach with a pen to prepare for her role as tedros somebody please help me my lungs have ruptured 

title reference on a crop top!! impressive!!

"MORE PANACHE !" sophie bellowed at the stage" did soman write this or did u kate

is marcus on the autism spectrum???? it would be great if he was

"alex said a quick prayer to rosalind, patron saint of spinning half-truths to people and getting away with it"

im grinning so hard at agatha possibly dying of laughter during alex's rendition of curses! the musical

"tedros made a sound like an animal in pain and sank down so low in his seat that he was barely visible. agatha burst into hysterical cackles, reminding ros, not for the first time, that she had been raised by an actual witch" "'tedros' and 'hort' had a rap battle that ended up getting too personal and devolved into a fistfight" AGATHA AND I ARE BOTH GOING TO DIE

"she turned around, saw tedros stood behind her, and screamed. tedros held up the programme, open on the page which said rewritten by akiyama sora and alex pendragon. alex screamed louder."

i adore the news' headlines

what's on the school master's mind??????????

omg is it about marcus and ros??

YES IT IS SKFDSJFL

chinhae is ros' friend and both of their names were circled in red bc the school master has a plan for them. whoaaaaaa

"slowly, she turned back to look up at the school master's tower. and got the distinct feeling someone was meeting her gaze" chills

finished 1:06 AM june 14, 2020

[4res]

i just need to get this into words

to take the Gods at face value is to take all humans at their ego and face value!

i woke up this morning thinking heavily about Apollo, , then realizing i had a lot on my mind about the old Gods. i want to share here in case anyone finds this post somewhere deep in the digital archives at any time in the future..

i have dove deeply into hellenistic polytheism, as i have dove into so many other paths of faith and spiritual truth on my journey into the heart. i came across a couple strings of posts that were discussing why traditional greek religion may have disappeared.. and a thread poster said this: 

“ Noone really believes that the 12 Gods live on top of Mt Olympus or that Poseidon lives underwater but they try to keep the tradition going. It's like saying "no god really exists, why should I follow the Orthodox tradition (weddings, baptisms and all that)?I always wondered why the ancient Greeks who believed it more seriously didn't just visit the top of Mount Olympus? “

ever since i read this paragraph it has sat with me in profound ways. mostly because there seems to be a multi-level misunderstanding of God energy and Intellect.. . ...

this might be a long read but if youd like to join me.. 

i both am HERMES when i am lost and i am also calling on him!

i both am ARES when i am angry and i am also calling on him!

.........

when Christians say the word “God” to you, do you picture an old white-skinned man sailing around the clouds, casting down judgement like a distant parental figure? 

when i say the word “Apollo” to you, do you picture a handsome olive-skinned man riding around the heavens in his fire chariot to raise and lower the sun? 

what do you picture if i breathed the word “Ares” into the air in front of me, or what about “Goddess Durga”? 

imagine if you were approached on the street by someone who told you “buddhists say that the buddha is everywhere. go lift that boulder and surely hell be under it like he said!” it is the exact same thing as implying the 12 sit on the mount literally, or that christ can be found in israel..

 in fact, one of the temptations of Christ by the Devil was appealing to an easy but dangerous intellectual weakness/understanding of God, and he said this to Christ: “

 “If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down: for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee: and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone.”

(if you dont follow christianity allow me to briefly explain: the Devil was telling Christ that if he was truly the son of God, that when God said to Jesus that hed never cast his foot against stone and be harmed, that surely that meant that if Christ flung himself off the hillside that angels would charge in to not let him hit the ground)

this same nightmare of an intellectual take on spiritual BLESSINGS and WORKS sets MASSIVE traps for the young explorers or depressed believers looking for proof - the mind would have you look LITERALLY at faiths where there exists almost nothing but METAPHYSICALLY

i am really deeply confused when people look on at God though an intellectual understanding of “God” so much so that it confines the expansiveness and endless awareness into a mortal form with a name that they believe the Gods would have had to use in order to meddle with our affairs 

to the point to where their visual dynamics, name, and sexy gritty stories become like golden calves that stand between us and a Truthful understanding of their Blessed Essence - that whether or not they once had skin like me doesnt even matter - what matters is the same thing that matters in humans - the SOUL and God Essence within all of us . to take the Gods in an EGOIC/face value is to take your fellow friend and human at an egoic and face value... .. 

any fucking way im so worked up! but please let me keep going!

if you read the odyssey closely, you can see that the ancient greek people were very faithful and looked to God to be the cause of everything!! when odysseus is stuck on his island, everyone around him is referencing “Posideons wrath” for the stormy seas and how Zeus must have been upset with Posideon, otherwise he would have already freed odysseus.. 

you can almost directly see this does not literally mean “morpheus is fighting neo” and that zeus and posideon are about to get into it..!!

this means that when the ancient faithful believers looked at the storming sea and thought: gods.. what an angry spirit in those waves. the oceans storming seas and spirit have cost us so many lives. if god were listening to us then surely he would have saved our missing and fallen brothers by now!” which is ironically almost exactly what the conversation between the gods is like in the opening of the odyssey...

posideon IS the storming SEA! hermes IS the lost traveler and the faithfully guided! ares IS the WAR and PROTECTION! the gods do not grow EGO and become characters that perform acts. they ARE the acts being performed. 

i both am hermes when i am lost and i am also calling on him!

i both am ARES when i am angry and i am also calling on him!

i both am HESTIA when i am protecting my home and i am also calling on her!

because God is NOT literal! God is within me and you and every single thing mundane or not.. there is nothing that hermes isnt, or that Goddess Durga isnt!

i do not EGOICALLY think “look at me im hermes!” i think “i am hermes.. and so is that wind, and so is that turtle, and so is that bird, and so is that letter i need to send to my family..”

----

SEEING signs of God like Hawks, Storming Seas, a warm oven, Seeing the MAGIC of basic and beautiful life and understanding the God flow behind it ---> deciding to depict them visually 

modernly, its nearly backwards.. we look on like this:

visual depiction --> trying to open ourselves into seeing the magic of the every day.. which leaves us feeling so CLOSED and like we are trying to call OUT to someone when all we need to do is call IN!! 

Truth waits for eyes unclouded by longing my friend.. the gods did not leave. they did not “GO” anywhere - where are they going to go? where does someone who exists in EVERYTHING... GO? 

if you think the gods can leave, or die, or just vanish then you think of the gods egoically. they are always there.. waiting.. for the day the curtain is peeled back for us.. ... for the day we meet them in our hearsts

Bruh . .. lol ......... im losing it. if youre reading this.. thank you. from the bottom of my hermes, christ, buddha, great virgin mary heart.. 

i kiss u! 

my cheeks are red apollo is here im fucking lit lets go !?? 

if you made it here please tell me. youre the new greek champion ! 

[gods-and-pawns]

All flower asks for Cimmerian.

Cimmerian:

O-oh jeez, that’s...a lot of questions, huh? Well, better let’s get to it then.

Alisons: Sexuality?

I’m polysexual.

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

Trans man. He/him pronouns, please.

Amaryllis: Birthday?

December 1st. I’m a winter baby.

Anemone: Favorite flower?

Uhm, sunflowers, probably.

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

If I have to be honest, I don’t really...watch TV all that often. But uh, anything they air on Animal Planet, to be honest. Do you remember that old TV show about the life of meerkats? Fucking loved that shit.

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

That...really depends. I wouldn’t go too far, after all, I don’t know this person, but basic respect and kindness are always a given. I’m not a hero either, I wouldn’t risk my life for them. So, I’d say most of the time, just small favours.

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

Literally fucking anything that leaves Vincent’s mouth once he gets a little tipsy, this man lacks filter when drunk and it’s fucking great. I know you probably expected some quote with deep meaning, since I have a major in English, but I am very sorry to disappoint.

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

Pain drink is going to be Whiskey, but anything a little bit fancier then it’s Pina Colada. I like sweet things.

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Yes, absolutely, zero hesitation.

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

Hm...unfortunately...

Baneberries: Favorite song?

........Two Trucks by Lemon demon. Don’t judge me, it’s a fucking great song.

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

Hm, well, they were great, really. Very caring and loving...Yeah, this question is making me feel sad.

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

Uhhh...I’m gonna say it’s either North, Tiff, Han or Bright. I’d say Foster too, but...I don’t know, we kind of had a falling out because of our work. It’s hard to meet up.

Begonia: Favorite color?

...I’ll give you one guess.

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

Toads, love these fat boys.

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

Definitely morning. Not that I like waking up early, but I definitely function better in the mornings.

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

A hognose snake, they have very cute noses.

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A teacher, of all things. Mostly because I thought teachers got free summer too. Then I went to high school, saw what little shits my peers were, and immediately changed my decision.

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

I love kids! I always wanted to be a father. Unfortunately, with being nearly 40 now and swarmed with work...I don’t think that’ll ever happen.

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

Cars, because of trauma that I’d rather not get into. And, uh...I have apeirophobia. It’s...stupid, I know, many people would probably like to live on for forever. But for me, it’s just...it’s horrible. I don’t even know why. I guess it has something to do with existential dread.

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

I had a lot of adoptive siblings and cousins, we were always close, and would always get into trouble together. I was raised on a farm with woods nearby, you can imagine I had a lot of opportunities and places where I could get hurt at, and I did. I was a stupid and reckless kid.

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?  

Oh man, that’s a loaded question...Honestly? I’d like to reach out to my family, spend my last day with them.

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

Taken~ By two wonderful, cute men.

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

Oh, there’s a lot of places I’d like to explore, probably too many to list. As long as it’s as far away from civilisation as possible, I’m good.

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

I like to be held, I love hugs, they make me feel safe and loved. Preferably under a warm blanket with my partner or partners, late in the evening, the rain falling outside and the room is nearly completely dark as we cuddle...

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?  

I used to want to, as a teen, but unfortunately no...I did see some people tattoo over their burn scars, and I’ve been thinking about it, but considering how large my scars are it’d cost a lot, be very time consuming and most likely painful. So I don’t know, but I’m considering it.

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  

Used to have a few as a teenager, now I only have one in my right ear.

California Poppy: Height?  

I’m 5′9′’.

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

In ghosts? No, not really.

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  

I’ll let you guess.

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

Sure did, I still sometimes do when my nightmares get the best of me.

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?  

Jackie.

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

Northy, obviously~

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

My heart tells me Comic Sans, but my brain’s telling me to shut the fuck up and pick a normal font.

Columbine: Are you tired?

Always, 24/7.

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

Autumn, we’re close to Summer and god damn it didn’t even start but I’m already over it.

Coneflower: Dream job?

I’m pretty content with my current one, but uh...maybe something less stressful? Probably a book author.

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert, definitely.

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

 Honestly? I’d probably give my life to them. It mostly depends on the person though, and how much I care about them.

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

I had a ragdoll elephant named Mr Trunk. Still do, actually, he’s one of the few things I took with me when I started working here. He’s now sitting on my bookcase at my apartment.

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Sagittarius.

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

I don’t think so, no.

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

Well...I guess overcoming my trauma counts as an accomplishment?

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?  

Well, first of all, my biological parents are dead and my adoptive ones think I’m dead. But, if that weren’t the case, I don’t think Ma and Pa are the kind fo people who’d try to get between me and my partners. I feel like if they were legitimately concerned for me or had deep worries about my partner, they’d talk to me about it. So, nothing too dramatic.

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

...I’d rather not talk about them.

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

Does writing shitty slashfics count?

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

Do you want a list or something?

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

Well...I started dating Jackie.

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

Tiring, so the usual.

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

...It could be worse, honestly.

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

...Uh...if my relationship with Karlos and Jack lasts...well...uhm...God, don’t tell them I said that, alright? But...getting married seems...nice...

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

My friends. They’re great, I don’t know where I’d be without them. Especially Tiff, they do so much for me...don’t tell them I said that, they don’t need any more of an ego boost.

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?  

A good book, audiobook or ASMR and a scented candle in an otherwise quiet room usually does the trick.

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

Usually through words, I didn’t get that damn doctorate for nothing.

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

My work, I guess? My writing? Wait, no, I just remembered my longest work of fiction is a crackfic about mythological characters- I take that back.

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

Just having an entire day to myself, no need to do any work, no stress, no deadlines. 

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?  

I take care of my pets and plants, read books, write.

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

Oh man, it’s been a few years now. Uhm, my longest friend in the Foundation is Foster, we met in high school, but like I said we’ve had a bit of a falling out. Then it’s Tiff, I met them when I first joined the Ethics Committee. I met Karlos and Bright a few years later, and I’ve known Han for the least amount of time, but it’s still been years.

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

Uhm...Hm...Probably Tiff or Karlos. Han too, he’s a good listener.

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

A few. On top of the previously mentioned ones I’m also quite close to Clef, Kondraki and Light.

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

Literally, any kind of compliment either of the O5-1′s or O5-11 gave me. Do you have any god damn idea how fucking hard it is to impress the Ones? And Ten...well, he’s just really nice and I appreciate him.

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

Anyway, next question!

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

I have great fucking puns and if anybody says otherwise, they’re fucking wrong.

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?  

Do you want a list?

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

Exploring, I guess it never really changed, I like spending time in nature, I just never have the time to.

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

........Probably one of my siblings.

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

A lot, but let’s not talk about that.

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?  

Jesus Christ, what’s with these questions?

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

I had to look it up, and apparently, Jeremiah means “Yahweh will exalt”. I had no idea my name actually had a religious meaning. When I was born I was named after my grandma, and when I was changing my name I decided to kind of keep with the theme and named myself after my grandpa. He doesn’t know, actually, I never came out to them, but I like to think he’d be happy that I named myself after him

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

Like I said before, in a small rural town on a small farm. Not much to talk about, really, I was a typical kid that grew up on the farm. Always got in trouble and always hurt myself doing stupid shit.

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

I was quite a tomboy and I loved cows, so just imagine a room with walls painted to resemble a pasture with cows on it and cow-themed furniture. Handmade too, by my grandpa and Pa, of course.

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  

I uh...I’d rather not talk about it.

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

Ma was a great woman, she always cared for me and my siblings, she treated me like her own kid straight away. Didn’t even batted an eye. Never made me feel weird or wrong for liking “boy things” like other adults outside of our family. She was quite fiercely protective of me too, quite a mama bear, I must say. A strong woman, could probably suplex a bear.

Onions: Tell about your dad.  

Pa was...well, Pa was just wonderful. He didn’t even hesitate for a second to take me in when his sis and my biological mother died. He was the first person I saw when I woke up at the hospital. He always made sure I was happy and taken care of. He taught me how to hunt and fight and play soccer and football. He was always very loudly supportive of me. I cannot express enough just how much I’m grateful to him and Ma.

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

They were very kind, your traditional old couple. I loved granny, but I was always closer to my grandpa. He taught me how to fish, I could always confide in him. He’s a great guy. Granny was wonderful too, I remember I always helped her out in her garden, she’d always scare me with potato bastards- I mean potato beetles, sorry, old habit- I fucking hate these motherfuckers. I love all animals, except for these ones. Potato bastards can suck a dick.

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

[Heavy sigh] My 4th birthday, my older brothers decided it’d be a fun idea to pick every potato beetle they could find from granny’s garden and throw them at me as a “birthday present”...........You know, I think I just realised why I hate these beetles so much.

Peony: What was your first job?

My first official job was in the Foundation, they hired me right when I finished college to help contain one anomaly, then I just stuck around and worked in Human Resources. I don’t think working small chores in our neighbours’ farms for some pocket change counted as a job.

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

I met North when he started working as a junior researcher in the same Site as me. Bright, I knew for longer for uh...obvious reasons, but I first met him in person during a disciplinary meeting. I also worked as an Ethics Committee Liaison in Site-19. You can imagine our relationship wasn’t the best at first.

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

Die.

Pink: Where is home?

Well, that sure is a deep fucking question. At this point...I don’t know, honestly.

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?

...It’s...let’s not talk about that.

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

No way in hell I’m telling you, he could read this blog.

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

Living in a cottage in the forest or mountains as a fairly famous writer, with a spouse and a few kids.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

Soulmates. Then I grew a brain.

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

...So anyways.

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

Uh, so you know how I listen to ASMR? Probably tapping.

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

Any kind of holiday with my family, we’d always get together and celebrate.

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

Let’s not talk about that!

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?  

...Hm...Well, I am kind of hungry, I guess after this I should go eat something.

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

I think I’m kind of...intermediate on that scale. Generally, it’s easy for me unless it’s something very personal.

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

...yeah, another question I’m skipping.

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

Not a lot, I’m quite tired today.

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

Work, I guess? Mostly just routine.

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

Fucking stressful and exhausting, but it could be worse. That’s talking about my chairman position. But my work on Project X? I like it, one of the more pleasant jobs I had at the Foundation.

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

...Yeah, just take a guess.

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.  

Cozy, dark and gold.

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

...That’s a bit personal, actually.

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

The sheer amount of these questions, Jesus fucking Christ.

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

Unfortunately, I don’t have time for books lately, I did listen to a few audiobooks though. Also, I’m planning to revisit the Warrior Cats books because nostalgia and I need to know what the fuck is happening with these cats lately.

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

Hopefully not dead.

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

Uhhh...hm...I’m petty, but you probably knew that already.

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

The third chapter is here, folks! :) The story unfolds itself slowly but surely. (NSFW)

A shoutout to my lovely beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur <3 Thank you for sharing this journey with me and for your kind words of encouragement.

So from now on, you guys don't have to bear with my mistakes any longer :)

❤

As always it’s available on AO3.

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

CHAPTER III: Catharsis

Mess was something I was afraid of. I remember my mother always saying that sometimes I'm too emotional and irrational. So I've learned how to be organized and keep everything in order, including my emotions. I had to. I was a surgeon and could not allow my feelings or temper overtake me. Claire Beauchamp who knows what to do. Years of learning made me a perfect example of a control freak. I could be a coach giving lessons on how to hold your shit together. But, it was a facade, a mask put on for work and strangers, for the patients who needed to have a Dr. Beauchamp who has everything under control. My true nature did not always correspond with the show I tried to sell.

Since I bumped into that tall Scot, the last little thread I held over my inner world was slipping out of my fingers. Then there was a law of inertia. I was balancing on the edge before falling down to the abyss of the unknown.

I returned home with an unsatisfied ache in my belly, between my thighs, behind my closed eyelids, and on my swollen kissed lips. I jumped into the hot shower furiously scrubbing down myself to wash off the smell of the pub, the street, (and his cologne that traveled with me home) off my skin. I've spent a good twenty minutes standing under the shower trying to reclaim the power over the situation that was running away from me as quickly as the water into the drain below my feet. I inhaled and exhaled (the way they taught us at yoga classes which Geillis made me go).

My fingers traced the bottom lip where I could still taste him. Get a grip, Beauchamp.

When I just crossed the threshold, Geillis's number was shining on my screen before I even could take shoes off of my aching feet. "I hoped ye willna pick up." She mumbled mouth fulll, chewing on something crispy.

"Ye did so I reckon yer not with him?"

"Nah".

"Was he that bad?"

I shook my head as if she could see me. 

"No, not at all. At the beginning of the evening, I couldn't guess if he's just a confident prick who's trying to get into my knickers or not but now I don't know." 

After a detailed description of the date to Geillis, I strolled down to the bathroom. “Maybe he didn't like me?" I asked thoughtfully, trying to get rid of mascara that has imprinted into the delicate skin, which now was turning red.

"He'd better get into yer knickers"  Geillis snorted. "But I think the lad likes ye well enough, only he has decided to teach ye a lesson after Lallybroch or he's being a gentleman. If he wanted to get ye laid he'd done it this evening."

“Is it a good or bad thing?" I asked pulling my jeans down.

"I dinna ken. I'd say ye invite this Jamie over to dinner and see for yourself".

Grabbing Adso under my armpit on the way to the bedroom, my phone came alive with a loud ringing (Jesus, I have to change that ringtone). Already planning what I might say to Geillis (remembering all swear words I knew) I almost pressed Accept but stopped right in time, seeing "James" on the screen. I stared at my cell phone long enough to read now "Missed call".

I had texted him while in the cab "Home. Safe and sound." He replied what appeared in a second "Good. It was a bonnie evening."

I crossed my legs sitting at the end of the bed, watching Adso bury himself under the duvet. Why has he called?

I spent about ten minutes before my fingers finally hit the Call button.

"Jamie?"

"Claire"

He said my name in a way that made my toes curl and my heart race a marathon. The soft vibrating "R" and a hint of an accent turned just Claire into something more special than I could imagine.

 I heard a quiet rustling of the sheets and his quiet breathing before I spoke. That made me wonder how he looked in bed. Did he sleep on the right or left side of the bed? Was he a light sleeper or not? What did he dream?

"Is something amiss?" I bent my neck holding the phone between my ear and shoulder.

"No. Just wanted to hear ye voice again."

"Oh." I gasped. I bit down on my lip but nonetheless could see a stupid smile on my face reflecting in the window.

"I dinna wake ye, Sassenach?" I heard him shift, getting comfortable and tried to imagine what he looked like. Was he tangled into the mass of bed sheets and blanket, sitting upright in the dim bedside light. Or maybe laying down, one hand up, elbow supporting his head, chest rising and falling with his quiet breathing.

"No. I was just getting ready for bed."

Adso's grey head popped out of the duvet. My companion looked at me tentatively and climbed up onto my knees with a loud "Meow."

"Ye have a cat?” I was sure I could hear him smile.

"Uh uh". I mumbled stroking Adso's furry back.

There was a pause for what seemed an eternity before Jamie asked quietly.

"Can I meet the wee cheetie?"

* * *

That night, Jamie and I had agreed on what he simply called "a real date" I could not sleep. I was vaguely aware of the lonely cars passing down the streets, drunk gangs of students singing and screaming in the park across the way, I could hear my neighbour's TV speaking. I fell asleep by 5 am feeling absolutely drained. I took extra shifts for the next couple of days (to clear my head from him) and felt thoroughly exhausted. So now when my phone buzzed, I startled almost kicking a cup of Earl Grey off the table.

"What's yer drink of choice, Sassenach?"

"Make it wine. Red"  I quickly typed back rushing to my fridge. (what goes with red wine? Geillis and I never had this problem mixing up takeaway of all kind with a bottle of red)

"Sorted. 7pm, right?"

"See you."

"xoxo"

My cheeks blossomed into a rosy pink while I giggled at his last text. Adso glared at me from his windowsill perch, shook his head, licked his paw twice and jumped off heading to his bowl. That brought me back to my earlier task of the day to think of the menu for tonight. I had to fight an urge just to order from my favorite Italian restaurant and pretend I prepared it all. "Christ." I hissed examining the shelves of the refrigerator. Old curry takeaway, Brie cheese which was probably out of date, some leftovers from my attempt at the pumpkin soup and a pack of milk.

Next two hours I've spent tidying up my entire flat, doing several loads of laundry, changing the bedsheets to fresh crisp ones, and hiding away my Ikea plushy teddy bear that Joe got me last birthday as a joke. The kitchen was scrubbed down until the counters shone and all fridge food remains were thrown into the rubbish bin. Lighting scented candles that lived on the coffee table in the living room, I caught myself thinking I'm trying too hard.

Jamie would step into the house of Dr. Beauchamp - organized, clean and ordered. He wouldn't see two weeks piles of laundry needed to be done, he would not open the fridge and close it deciding to call a takeaway because he'd realize I'm a terrible cook. Jamie wouldn't laugh at me for sleeping with a toy in bed, nor he wouldn't know about the existence of "snack basket" full of crisps and Gummies next to my couch. He wouldn't know who Claire really is. Or would he? Did I want him to know?

After paying for the Waitrose delivery, I occupied kitchen with an unusual enthusiasm that didn't last long. I was a nervous wreck. My attempt at pasta Carbonara came out as someone's morning sickness and was sent straight into the trash. Cursing and praying to all existing Gods at once I've reminded myself that I wanted to keep this easy and fun. So pizza was the choice. Something that was hard for me to fail I still went through the recipe for the dough with surgeon precision. Popping the tomato sauce, spinach and white chunks of mozzarella on top, I glanced at the clock. Feeling the sweat sticky fabric of my shirt clinging to my back I sent pizza tray to the oven hoping Jamie likes Margherita. With Adso purring at my legs, I rushed to the shower mentally thanking myself for washing my hair the day before. Ten minutes later, wrapped up in a towel I was welcomed with a delicious smell of pizza lingering in my kitchen and satisfied with the outcome left to the bedroom.

The sudden doorbell buzz caught me just in the middle of dressing up. Hair looked as if an explosion happened on my head, with the only moisturizer on my skin while I huffed and puffed pulling on old jeans (the ones that lost all their blue from many washings). Grabbing the first jumper that fell out of the wardrobe and dragging it over my head on the way to open a door I prayed that Jamie wouldn't be all dressed up for the occasion. (why did he come twenty-five minutes earlier?)

My heart hammered in my chest and I had to take a few deep breaths trying to appear composed. He was casual. A simple white t-shirt with a leather jacket, the same tartan scarf, and jeans that looked as old as mine.

“I’m here.” His voice sounded low and hoarse.

“You are.” I swallowed a lump in my throat that seemed to suffocate me.

We stood in an awkward silence that stretched between us as the thousands of days, hours, minutes not spent together (yet?)

“Will ye let me in, Sassenach? I’ll freeze my bollocks off out here.” He smiled, the little wrinkles covered the sides of his eyes as the sun rays. I think I heard something in my heart shift.

The cold wind reached my bare feet and I moved aside just a little, letting him through. The familiar smell of his perfume (sea salt, amber wood and Italian cost) wrapped up around me when Jamie leaned to plant a kiss on my cheeks. One on the left, one on the right. I caught myself rising on my tiptoes for him as if I were a cat arching its back into his touch. Somehow it felt much more intimate than our full-mouth-greedy-tongues pub encounter. I watched him taking his jacket off, removing his boots and exclaiming happily “There ye are, wee cheetie” when Adso popped his grey head from the corner and strolled down to Jamie sniffing his hands. I leaned my back against the door thinking that it felt right. James Fraser in my apartment, crouched down on my floor, petting my cat who’s now was purring away. For a second there I wondered how it would feel to be touched by those hands. (is it normal to be jealous of your own cat?)

"I've made pizza. I did not know what you like." I announced, popping a cheesy slice on his plate, licking the grease glistening on my fingers. If it wasn't me kissing him just a couple days ago and flirting away then now I would have been very much offended by the look he gave me. As if he was ready to eat me alive right there, right now.

His gaze softened. (has anyone else on Earth had eyes this blue?)

"It's perfect. I couldna imagine a better option for a dinner than pizza".

It felt easy with him. There were minutes we ate in companionable silence, and minutes when we spoke, "clink-clink" of wine glasses interrupting our voices.

"So, I know horses are your hobby.But you still did not tell what it is you do for a living?" I looked at him over the rim of my glass. I watched him lick his lips, setting his pizza aside.

"I have a wee business with my uncles." Jamie took a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing under the skin as he swallowed. "It's a small beer brewery. Nothing verra special but sufficient enough."

"Beer is it?" I smirked. "I would think a Scot like you should be involved in the whisky business."

He grinned, glass in his hand, cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.

"Well, I'm verra good at drinking it, no making."

When our dinner was demolished and plates covered only in crumbles and crusts (on my plate), I stood up bringing them over to the sink. My hands were almost elbow deep into the soapy water when Jamie had asked something that made my knees shake just for a moment.

"How come such lass as ye not married, let alone single?"

A heavy silence fell down, erasing our previous banter. Sensing my discomfort he added immediately "Claire, I dinna mean to be noisy". But I had told him anyway.

* * *

"But the main thing was that he had said I wasn't a woman if I could not give him a child. I was just an empty shell of female appearance, there was no much use to me." I inhaled deeply, feeling his eyes on my back when I finally finished. "Truthfully, I don't even know if I am really barren. I don't know who's at fault. Frank never went for a test and I...Well, I could not make myself do it afterwards."

I braced my hands on the opposite sides of the sink trying to compose myself. The swell of tears started to gather in my eyelashes threatening to escape.

"Sassenach."

I heard his quiet steps behind me and I shuddered a sigh thinking how did this evening (a promise of a good sex) turned into something that vaguely reminded me of a soap opera on TV that my neighbor Mrs.Baird watched.

I felt his fingers gently squeezing my shoulder.

"It doesna matter anymore."

"No." I sniffed. "It doesn't."

I turned to him then to be trapped once again by the studying gaze of his blue eyes which now were the reminiscent of storms at sea that promise clear skies. His long fingers brushed away loose curls off my face.

"Do ye need to be alone? Ye want me to go?" He asked softly, hands wrapping around my waist.

"No" I shook my head in protest, suddenly terrified he'd leave. " I don't want you to go."

He nodded.

"I willna. I promise."

On its own accord my forehead dropped against his chest and a sigh of contentment (I did not know was there) escaped my throat. We stood there in each other's embrace long enough for Adso to jump up on the counter to peek at Jamie and I with clear "What are you up to, hoomans?" written on its fluffy face.

"Netflix and chill?" I sniffed, the sound muffled by Jamie's t-shirt. He gave me a lopsided smile when I lifted my head.

"Ye ken what that means, right?"

"I do." I laughed rubbing my eyes, smudged mascara staining my hand.

We indeed watched Netflix. Sitting on a modest distance of each other, under the same plushy throw, still close for our fingers to touch. I was too aware of his presence and closeness that my back started to ache approximately 15 minutes after I sat straight up, afraid to move. But then the wine we drank started to kick in, my body (and mind) relaxing and by thirty minutes into the movie (The Notting Hill I'd made him watch), I found myself in the kingdom of Jamie's warmth, our thighs and hips pressed to one another, his hand wrapped up around my shoulder and my head rested just above his breastbone where I could hear his steady heartbeat. His chin rested on the crown of my head and I could feel his lips slightly brushing above but not kissing just yet. I did not know when and how I fell asleep. Lulled by Jamie's soothing presence I must have dozed off sometime after the credits rolled, last night shifts catching up with me.

I roused to a touch that faintly reminded me the butterflies' wings scattered across my skin. My eyes fluttered open when I could feel Jamie’s warm breath making my skin tingle.

The room was dark, dipped into the heavy night shadows with only thin moonlight sketching a path along the carpet. I had no idea how long I slept only to find myself still on the couch, Jamie’s smile lingering above me. I smiled back feeling his fingers softly caressing the sliver of skin between my jeans and sweater. My back arched instinctively to his touch. He leaned down to press his lips upon mine. It was a lazy kiss, unhurried in the way our mouths melted together, the way he tasted the fullness of my lower lip, the way our tongues sought permission and their slow dance continuing until we both were breathless.

Jamie was looking at me as if he'd seen me for the first time. I could see his eyes move, something faintly reminding me of a tenderness floating at the bottom.

"What?" My lips moved slowly, still numbed by his taste. I touched his cheekbone to see if it feels right for me, for him to do so. How many times would I repeat this simple move? Jamie's fingers had found my hand, turning it palm up.

"I think ye are beautiful, Claire. Verra." His thumb softly outlined my lifeline before he brought my hand up planting a kiss just in the center of it. That simple gesture made me surrender, undid me in fact. I could feel the hot bubbling sensation starting somewhere in my toes rising all the way up to my thighs, my belly, crawling inside my breasts and wrapping around my heart, taking a peek under my skin as if checking is it a suitable place to be here forever?

I dragged my lips over his clavicle that slightly stood out above the collar of his t-shirt, leaving a moist trail of my breath. He smelled earthy, slightly salty with a mix of his cologne. Jamie's breath was shallow and I shifted feeling my arousal build between my thighs. My own abilities to inhale and exhale properly failed me when his fingers dragged the woolen fabric of my sweater up up up until there was nothing to hide. I jerked involuntarily as his auburn curls tickling my skin when his mouth closed over the peak of the left breast. It seemed like a century passed by instead of minutes as his lips moved from one breast to another.

His hand splayed flat on my stomach drawing patterns up and down making me almost beg him to continue just a bit down where I wanted him to be. But before I gathered enough courage to do that his fingers slid under the waistband of my jeans, testing, teasing.

“Jamie” I pleaded with the voice that didn’t sound like my own.

“Do ye want me to stop ?” He asked softly kissing the corner of my mouth.

I did not know if “No” actually left my mouth, but only managed to cling to him in desperate anticipation of my own release. Sensing this, he seemed to slow down on purpose. His mouth hovered above mine, our breaths mixing up as he slipped his hand out (me whimpering in protest and him chuckling, the cocky bastard) to unzip the unnecessary piece of clothing. I raised my hips just enough for Jamie to pull them down to my knees. I was becoming lost in him, forgetting how to breathe. Needing to feel him, I reached for the hem of his t-shirt seeking access to his skin. He ignited a hunger in me, I needed to see him, feel the realness and closeness of him, to be in this moment for my life to have a meaning. Even if it meant just mere minutes.

Pulling the cotton fabric over his head my fingers traced the line of veins that ran along his arm until found where I had mended his flesh with the stitches I had placed. I leaned my head to kiss the spot where the scar would make its presence known. Jamie’s breath hitched and within seconds my lips were trapped by his once again. When we parted with a wet pop his fingers traveled south one more time pushing the grey cotton triangle between my thighs aside. My blood was rushing hot, heart hammering hard against my breastbone. So loud that I thought Jamie could hear. The promising warmth of his fingers drew a map on my inner thighs. Slowly tortuously from one to the other, traveling up to brush over my navel making me pant, and slippery with need.

“I want you inside me” I had whispered then, dragging my tongue over the stubble on his jaw.

“No, a nighean.” He sounded hoarse but dreamily sweet. “I want to watch ye first”.

If it was possible to become undone just from his words, it would have been then. His fingers drew another path, coming home, where I felt hot and greedy for him. I mewled, my hips rising into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders. I kept my eyes shut, fingers leaving marks on his skin, as he drove me down the road of pure sensation. Where my walls had crumbled and fallen down, where he had made me cry out God's name in vain. Where my trembling hands had managed to unbuckle his belt and in a swift motion pull his jeans down, Jamie's feet trapped in them, laughing hard. His moan that sounded more like a hiss when I ran my palm at the length of him, tagging his white boxers off. When all the sharp fences alongside my soul started to crouch down and fade away as our bodies joined. I gasped feeling the saltiness of tears rising up from my belly all the way to my throat because this felt like coming home, suddenly he felt like home. When the lonely tear had rolled down my cheek, into the hollow of my neck, to the fields of my curls (I did not know where it came from) I heard him whisper "mo ghraidh". It had no meaning for me but the way Jamie's lips imprinted those words into the column of my neck destroyed the last barricades I had built over my soft and sensitive, scarred heart.

After a time we were both gasping for air as fish landed on the shore his solid body pinning me down on the cushions. I whispered, "Jamie, you're crushing me".

He hummed a quiet apology. With eyes still veiled by an overtaking orgasm, he rolled off me and gathered me closer to him. His hands wrapped up around my waist, back pressed to his chest. I thought I heard him murmur something into my hair (that faintly sounded as ancient Gàidhlig) before after-sex slumber had taken us both to its realm.

* * *

The nagging ache in my lower back that I usually had from falling asleep on the couch (after a particularly hard shift at the hospital) was something that woke me up. I thought I was suffocating from the realness of the dream I had but it was just Adso who curled like a cinnamon bun on top of my chest.

I was alone. (not that I was really surprised)

But somewhere deep inside I felt a painful sting of bitterness to find myself in the reality of lonely-morning-post-one-night-stand. I reached for my phone with a stupid hope that maybe Jamie had texted me. Nothing.

"Looks like we are back to normal, baby" I sighed scratching Adso behind the ears.

The Edinburgh's skies were gloomy, heavy with a promise of rain. I stared into the window but did not really see anything behind it. The soft knock took me out of my stupor.

"I used the last of yer shampoo.I figured ye wouldna mind." Jamie stood in the doorway, his hair damp from the shower, now two shades darker, like autumn leaves.

My mouth dropped open as I just watched him casually stroll and make himself comfortable in the chair.

"And, Christ, Sassenach, but yer cat does fart like a freakin' raccoon."

"Does it?" I whispered.

[daisyxbuckley]

Only Human//Mitch Rapp series

A/N: Part 6 is here!!! I have one more part after this and this series is done. But if you think that I’m going to make another series because I have a really good idea…well you bet your sweet ass I will. this wont be the last you see of them. ANYWAYS. I love everyone and I hope that you enjoy this chapter. 

Description: Ophelia Lane has a past that most CIA operatives would hate to have. The 25 year old is sent back to The Barn to help Stan train the new batch of recruits, including one that is hell bent on getting revenge. Can she keep it together or will a secret that is hidden under the surface come back and haunt her?

@cxddlyash @xceafh @stiles-o-dylan24 @dylan-obrien-fanblog @n0rdicstar

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 Stan and Mitch quickly called in a cleaning crew and grabbed the physicist and got the hell out of there. The car ride was silent as they drove to the meeting place for Irene. Mitch realized how much Ophelia’s presence had taken up his life and how empty it seemed with her gone. 

Pulling over into a warehouse, Mitch stayed in the car as Stan got out and slammed the door. He popped the trunk and looked at the man in there, grabbing a tank of gasoline and pouring it on him. Mitch finally got out of the car and stalked over to him. “What now?” He asked crossing his arms as Stan emptied out the can of gas. Stan ignored him and lit a cigarette and smiled cruelly at the physicist. He looked up at Stan with wide eyes trying to move from the binds that held him. 

“We are going to play a game.” Stan said with his cigarette in his hand. “You tell me the truth and I won’t set you on fire.” He said shrugging. 

“Jesus Christ.” Mitch mumbled as he ran his hands through his hair and turned away. He wasn’t sure how Stan losing his mind would help them find Ophelia, but at that point he was willing to do anything to get her back. 

“I don’t know anything I swear. He just asked me to build this bomb and I did.” The man groaned. Stan glared at him before taking a drag of the cigarette and waiting a second to blow the smoke out. 

“Where is the warehouse? I want an address.” He growled. Mitch had enough by then and pulled his phone out to call Irene when she appeared from the dark. 

“Stan, get him to the safe house. We need him alive to figure out where the bomb is. “ She said walking in. Stan glared at her before slamming the hood shut and throwing his cigarette on the ground. Mitch got in following him and staying silent. The only thing he could think about was what Ophelia was going through. 

By the time they got back to the safe house, Stan had chained smoked an entire pack and Mitch was about to kill him for telling him to shut up every time he tried to speak. It took about 30 minutes for the physicist to talk about where the bomb was and where it was supposed to go off at. First Fleet was docked in the harbor for exercises and Mitch knew that if the bomb went off there it would cost mass destruction. 

“What about Ophelia?” Mitch asked as he walked in on Irene and Stan talking about a game plane. They both looked at him with the same pitiful look “Ophelia is an agent. She knows what happens if you go down in the field.” Stan said harshly. 

“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it!” Mitch yelled. He knew people were staring but he didn’t care. Stan stormed over and slammed the office door shut turning around and glaring at the enraged man. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” He shouted at Mitch. Irene stood there and watched the interaction knowing how tough it was on both of them. 

“My problem?” Mitch yelled. “My problem is Ophelia is out there with a lunatic and you’re not even going after her.” Mitch was seeing red at this point. “She is your fucking daughter.” Stan just stared at him with his mouth agape. 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because Ronnie said so. He was looking for you, Stan.” Mitch growled. “He took Ophelia because of you. So what aren’t you telling us Stan?” Mitch said stepping towards him spitting out the words. He was beyond mad at that point. The last time he felt that way was when he watched Katrina die. “Did you know he was alive?” 

It was Irene’s turn to speak at that point. “Stan..what is he talking about?” Stan looked between both of them and sighed rubbing his eyes. 

“I found out about Ronnie  about four months after the bombing.” Mitch and Irene just stood there with mouths agape and wide eyes. “It was when I went to Russia for that mission. He was there…but he was different. Full of hatred, for both the CIA and Ophelia for getting him shot.” Stan sighed and sat down. “I told him that he needed to figure his shit out before he drug my daughter down with him.” 

Mitch shook his head as he rubbed his eyes. “So if you would of put a bullet in between his eyes or had him come back with you, then Ophelia wouldn’t be in this position.” His voice was low and scary calm. His veins were popping out of his arms as he fought to control his actions. “This is fucking bullshit Stan!” He yelled as he punched the table. Both Irene and Stan stared at him, they had seen the videos of when Mitch lost control but neither had ever actually been present. This was a whole new side of him. “You can’t just expect us to fucking sit here while he kills her?!” 

“You really think I wanna lose my daughter?” Stan yelled standing up to meet Mitch. “No, but Ophelia knew what she was doing when she joined. She knew what being part of Orion meant.” Mitch scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“What, that we are ghosts? Right, we don’t exist. Well guess what Stan..she fucking exists and its your fault that he has her in the first place.” Mitch clenched his fists so hard that he was drawing blood in his palms. 

“That’s it Rapp. You’re off this damn mission.” Stan said lowly. “You are too emotionally involved. I don’t know what happened between you and my daughter, but you made this personal. So grab your shit and go, you’re on the first flight out.” He said sitting down. 

“Fuck you Stan.” Mitch said kicking a chair over and walking out of the room. Walking past the analysts in the room, Mitch saw Annika standing by the door with a calm face. She looked like she was contemplating something and he wondered what.

“Let’s go.” Was all she said before holding up keys to Stan’s car. Mitch stared at them for about half a second before he grabbed them and they slipped out the door. Jumping in the car he started the engine and peeled out of there towards the address that Annika had acquired.

He just hoped that he wasn’t too late. 

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

“You need to wake up, O.” Mitch was talking to her but his voice sounded distorted and too far away. “Ophelia, you need to wake up and fight.” She didn’t know why she needed to fight…they were in her hotel room and they were safe.

So then why did her arms hurt?

Ophelia’s eyes flew open as she looked around trying to get her bearings in the dingy tunnel. It looked like a warehouse but she honestly had no clue. Her arms were suspended above her in chains attached to the ceiling and her feet were barely touching the ground. Her shoulders were on fire and she was fairly sure one of her shoulders had been dislocated. 

“Well, look who’s finally awake.” Ophelia stiffened at the voice. Raising her head she glared at Ronnie while he was moving to stand in front of her. It was then that she noticed that her shirt had been removed, leaving her in a bra and jeans. Her feet were bleeding a bit and she realized that he had pulled off a few of her toenails. Smelling the strong scent of iron, Ophelia tasted the blood in her mouth as well as noticed the table that had a bloody knife, some pliers and what looked like fingernails. 

“Those are yours. Apparently your body can’t handle torture anymore.’ Ronnie scoffed. “You’re getting weak Ophelia.” 

“Why don’t you unchain me and I’ll show you how weak I am.” Ophelia said trying to fight against the chains. Ronnie stepped closer and put his hands against her waist, his contact with her skin made Ophelia want to vomit. Squeezing, he leaned into her, his nose trailing from the back of her ear down to her neck. 

“Oh Ophelia. Always so ready to rush into a fight.” He pulled back a bit, his hands still squeezing hard enough to bruise and stared at her. “You really have only gotten more beautiful since I left. I see why have the new me wrapped around your finger.” 

Ophelia jerked trying to move away but the chains prevented her doing anything more than hurting herself. “You leave him out of this.” She hissed as he chuckled. Ronnie stepped back towards the table picking up the knife. He walked over to her, trailing the blade down her stomach as Ophelia refused to take her eyes off him. 

“Oh, he had everything to do with this. I see how he looks at you, how he never takes his eyes off you when you are away from from.” 

Ophelia narrowed her eyes at his comment. “You have seen us together maybe two times..what are you talking about?”

Ronnie laughed. A maniacal look in his eyes. “Your dad didn’t tell you? Ophelia he knew that I was alive. He told me that I didn’t need to pull you down.” Ronnie scoffed. “I watched you. I watched you from that day. Stan never knew, he trained me that good.” Ophelia just watched him as he started pacing. “I was there the day HE showed up, and I was there the day that I saw you start falling for him. Of course he was taken with you since day one.” Ronnie looked up as Ophelia stared him down. “I don’t blame him honestly, I was the same way when I first met you.” 

The brunettes heart clenched as she watched her husband start pacing again. “Your dad is a piece of work. He trains the perfect killer and just because I decided that I was tired of doing the dirty work of a government that could give a shit about me, I’m the bad guy. All of a sudden i’m not good enough for his perfect fucking daughter.”

“You’re a fucking terrorist Ronnie. You’re literally building a bomb to sell to the highest bidder.” Ophelia yelled at him. “Why the hell would you think that I wanna be with you after that?” 

“See that’s the thing. You’re so damn good Ophelia, kind of ironic considering you and Rapp are trained to kill.” Ronnie said his eyes rolling. Ophelia didn’t hesitate. Spitting in his face, she saw him pull back and stare at her. 

“What I was trained to do was take down criminals, people like you.” She said calmly. Ronnie stepped close to her, snaking his arm around her neck, crashing his lips into her. Ophelia thrashed about trying to escape but he just pulled her closer. Before Ophelia could try to anything else, she felt a blinding pain in her side. Pulling away a gasp left her throat as Ronnie stepped back. The blade  in his hand glistening with a crimson color. Looking down she finally noticed all the cuts and marks that covered her torso and saw the blood slowly coming out of the fresh hole in her side. Ophelia looked up at Ronnie with wide eyes. She knew what he did, he made it so she would feel the pain but also so she wouldn’t bleed out instantly. 

“It’s been fun Ophelia..but I think your father and new boyfriend are on their way and I need you to play the perfect helpless victim for my plan.” He said stepping closer. Giving her one more rough kiss, he put duct tape over her mouth before punching her in the face, knocking her out. 

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

Mitch and Annkia drove to what looked like a subterranean bunker. The information that Annika had acquired pointed to this being where the bomb was being kept. Pulling out her phone, she sighed and showed Mitch. “No service, it’s a dead zone.” Mitch sighed and rubbed his eyes with his finger and forefinger. That would explain why Stan had stopped calling him so suddenly. 

“Come on.” He said to himself. He was looking for an entrance when he found one. Two men went in one side of the bunker as Mitch and Annika got out of the car and started following them. Getting to the door, Mitch had his gun drawn as they started to creep down the tunnel. Before they got any further though, Mitch felt a hand on his arm and saw Annika’s worried face. 

“Mitch before we go any further I need you to realize something.” She said quietly. “There is a good chance that when we find Ophelia it might be too late..I need to know that you can focus on what needs to happen if that does.” 

Mitch stared at her with a hard look. He liked Annika, he did, but her talking about Ophelia like she was already dead made his blood boil. “She’s not dead..I won’t let that happen.” He said as they started moving forward. They eventually came to a gate that was padlocked shut but Annika was able to get through it easily. Mitch looked around and knew that if they wanted to get Ophelia out of there quick, they needed to get the gate open. “Here…take this. Go find her but stay hidden. I’m going to get the gate open and meet you.” He said quietly giving her his gun. Annika nodded and Mitch watched as she ran out of sight before heading back the way they came. 

Annika crept down the tunnels as quietly as she could, trying to avoid the voices that had started getting louder. Looking in a room she noticed a figure hanging and had to stifle a gasp as she realized it was Ophelia. Running over, the injured girl started waking up when Annika approached. “Ophelia, thank god.” The woman said as she stuck the gun in the waistband of her jeans and started trying to get Ophelia down. O couldn’t really say much with the tape on her mouth, but the tears came to her eyes as she realized that she might actually be saved. If Annika was here…then so was Mitch. 

Annika managed to get Ophelia free from the chains and helped lower her down. Taking the tape off, Ophelia was about to thank the woman when there was a shot and Annika fell forward her blood covering Ophelia’s face and torso. Her arms were holding the stiff body but the shocked look on her face was enough to make Ronnie laugh. “Oh poor Ophelia..yet the cause of another death.” 

Mitch heard the gunshot and his head shot up. Running faster he abandoned his original plan and knew he had to make a big scene to get noticed by Irene and Stan. Jumping in the car, he floored the gas and drove through the tunnel. The men in front of him started shooting as Mitch accelerated and he paid no mind as he moved his head to the side as he kept going, running them over and busting through the gate. Finally the car couldn’t go anymore and he grabbed one of the guns off the men and started running noticing the fire that was starting. 

Ronnie’s head shot up as he heard the explosion and looked at Ophelia still shell shocked on the ground. Grabbing her by the hair he yanked her up as a cry left her lips from being jerked around with her side wound. “Let’s go.” He yelled at the other men in the room and started walking. 

“Let her go Ronnie.” Mitch said appearing in front of him. His eyes widened at the state that Ophelia was in and rage started pumping through is blood. He glanced over and saw Annika on the ground dead and looked back at Ophelia and realized that was where all the blood was coming from. “This is between us man. You don’t want to hurt you.” He said calmly. 

“Don’t I though?” Ronnie asked yanking Ophelia closer and putting a gun to her head. “I’m pretty sure I do man. Trust me when I say it will be better for you as well..you do not want her hanging around for the rest of your life.” 

Mitch watched as he wrapped his arm around Ophelia’s neck and she started clawing at him. “Let her go. I won’t ask you again.” He stated again. “Mitch..take the shot.” Ophelia gaped as she looked at him. The fear in her eyes was evident and it broke his heart. 

“Oh no honey, he won’t do that. He knows if he shoots me then you die too.” Ronnie said laughing. “How sweet..he really does care for you. Sad that you’ll both be dead soon.” Ophelia felt him loosen his grip a bit and took that as her chance. Throwing her elbow back, she caught him in the gut and managed to bite his hand. Ronnie yelled and threw her to the side as Mitch lunged at him. 

All she could do was sit there as she watched them fight. Due to the blood loss, she was way too weak to put up any kind of fight and Mitch was so enraged that she was afraid that if she got in the middle of it he wouldn’t be able to stop. Ronnie shoved Mitch up against the wall, his head bouncing off of it with a loud thunk. Ophelia crawled her way over to Annika’s body searching her back until she found the gun. 

“Oh Rapp. How does it feel knowing you wont be able to save her…..just like you couldn’t save that beautiful girl at the beach.” Ronnie sneered looking down at Mitch.  Before Mitch could say anything he heard Ophelia’s voice ring through the room. 

“Hey Ronnie.” She yelled. Both men turned to look at her as she leaned against the wall with the gun raised in her hand. The look on her face was straight murderous as she leveled  out and took aim. 

“I want a fucking divorce.” Ophelia said as she shot the weapon hitting Ronnie dead in the eyes. 

[dailyaudiobible]

09/07/2020 DAB Transcript

Song 5:1-8:14, 2 Corinthians 9:1-15, Psalms 51:1-19, Proverbs 22:24-25

Today is the 7th day of September welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it's great to be here with you today as we move into this new week. And we started the book of Song of Solomon yesterday and my wife joined me as we do every year and we’ll conclude the Song of Solomon today. So, she's here again, which is always a treat, always a treat when we come to this particular portion of Scripture and we get to do this together. So, let's dive in. We’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week. Song of Songs chapters 5, 6, 7, and 8 today.

Commentary:

Okay. In the Psalms today we’re reading from David and he is repenting. Like he is pouring his heart out in some of the most beautiful but heartfelt like deep words of repentance. And it’s great to refer back to. Like this posture is pouring yourself…like falling down knowing what you've done, repenting before God. And we have the opportunity now to like…like this Psalm was written because of a set of circumstances that David had navigated into and we know that story now because we've already passed through that story. So, we remember Uriah the Hittite, one of the 30 mighty men, one of the most loyal servants of David, the king. David took his wife, Bathsheba while he was off at war and she became pregnant. And, so, he brought Uriah back and tried to get him to go home to his wife, like a cover-up. That didn't work because Uriah was loyal and wouldn’t…wouldn't basically…wouldn't leave the men of the camp…wouldn’t like…wouldn't go home and have the pleasures of home while they’re in battle. And, so, in the end David had Uriah put on the front lines where he was killed and Nathan the prophet confronted, on behalf of the Lord, confronted the king and once the full clarity, like once David’s sanity returned basically, once he realized fully, like the weight of what he had done then this Psalm was written. So, knowing that back story brings clarity to the words, “be gracious to me God according to your faithful love, according to your abundant compassion. Blot out my rebellion. Completely wash away my guilt and cleanse me from my sin for I am conscious of my rebellion and my sin is always before me. Against you, you alone I have sinned and done this evil in your sight”, right So, David is crushed by this. Like it is crushing him, the rebellion, the…the…what's…what's gonna happen now, the chaos, just the evil of it all and he’s coming to God and trying to repent, “purify me with hyssop and I will be clean. Wash me and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness. Let the bones you have crushed rejoice. Turn your face away from my sins and blot out all my guilt. Create a clean heart in me. Renew a steadfast Spirit within me. Don't banish me from your presence. Don’t take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore the joy of your salvation to me.” Okay, like these are very, very famous well-known passages of Scripture that we’ve probably heard before, probably heard many times before. Now we know where they came from now. Now we know their context. And context as we've learned throughout the year so far is so very very important. We were reading just the other day about the sorrow that leads to repentance in the writings of Paul. And, so the Bible is kind of leading us through this territory, right? Job and then Ecclesiastes, the sorrow that leads to repentance, Psalm 51. Like we’re crossing through this territory as we cross into new seasons of the year. And this is the time to consider the ways in which we need to repent. And even the Song of Solomon, which is beautiful in its poetry and always a wonderful experience to be able to read that together with Jill, but the love that's described there, like if we look at that love as Christ loving us, that level of passion, that depth, like…like to rebel against that is a crushing thing. Like we were talking about, the sorrow…when we were…when we talked about the sorrow that leads to repentance, it should feel bad. Like we should feel bad when we know we have walked into rebellion and stopped the process of God's work in our lives because of it. And, so, Psalm 51 gives us language, gives us words. And maybe this is a good time…like none of us here can go, “well…I really don't have anything I need to talk to God about as far as repentance. I’m pretty much killing it right now, I’m pretty much sinless. I am 100%.” Like all of us are still in the process of becoming a new creation, of being sanctified. And, so, this is a good time as we just begin to get glimpses, the thoughts of the fact that we are well on our way into the end of this year. This is good time while we’re way out in front of the busyness that the…that the end of the year brings way out in front of it, to start thinking about how we are gonna finish this year. Are we gonna finish it week? Are we gonna finish it strong? Are we gonna finish it poorly or are we gonna finish it well? And way out in front of it, way out in front of it now, I’m telling you, my experience of life, which is far less than many maybe even most of you, but in my experience, you can't begin something strong if you've finished poorly, the thing you were doing before. And, so, what we’ll hear way in advance, this is the time that the Bible has lead us into some of the deeper issues, some the stuff that we mostly keep covered over, the Bible has lead us here and this is a time to invite God into it. And repentance isn't a nasty word. Repentance is being set free because we humble ourselves before God and confess and then move in a different direction altogether because the road, we were on isn't going anywhere.

Prayer:

Father we come into your presence with a repentant heart. And it's not something that can maybe just be done in a collective prayer here, this is…this is the beginning of the conversation. We invite your Holy Spirit into the places where we need to repent, where we have been rebellious, where we have walked away willingly, where we have done damage. We need you. And we see that we’re not the only ones. We…we’re reading the prayer of David today. And maybe we don't have that same story to tell. Maybe we don't have things that are that sorted, maybe we do. But we see the he was crushed when he realized the weight, the fullness of the chaos that he had created. And we like to avoid that at all costs, but sometimes we need to see what’s happening so that we can stop what's happening and turn away from it and walk into the light again. And, so, we are inviting your Holy Spirit to come. We already feel the conviction. We are inviting you to lead us to these places that we need to give over to you, that we need to repent, that we need to release. And, so, Holy Spirit well at from within us. Lead us into this territory. We trust you and we know that…that…that your aim is our total restoration. And, so, we give these tender places and these hidden places to you and invite the light that shines in the darkness to shine into the darkness of our hearts, that we might release and walk away from the things that are ultimately going to destroy us. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Jill:

So, I’m back just for a second. So, Brian and I finished the reading and he had asked me if I wanted to say anything. And…and I just said, “no. I don't…I don’t think so. I think I'm good…I’m good unless there’s something you’d like me to say. And he said, “no, no, no. I’m just inviting you.” And, so, I kinda just went about the day and my business and it really kind of struck me. I feel like I was remembering some emails that happen about this time every year from some of you that I know and from some of you that I barely know, we’re just Facebook friends or you’re a listener and you know that I am Brian’s wife and you reach out. And it really just struck me that I…I might need to mention that I know hearing that reading is very difficult for many of you that are longing, that are waiting, that are hoping and praying and wishing and begging God for someone, for that person, for that mate, for that helper. And I get it, you know, it can seem like a slap in the face for a married couple to come on and…and to say things to someone in waiting and longing and whatever the longing or the waiting is for. But many of you will email me and tell me that it’s too painful to listen to. And, so your you’re going to skip over for a couple of days and you know maybe…maybe the people that I’m talking to are not going to listen to this because they’re skipping over but what I would encourage you with, what I would beg of you is to not look away. It’s to not look away, not skip over the painful parts because they matter. The pain matters. It all matters. It is essential to the process. I believe that with all of my heart and I believe it so much I just want to say it again, that pain is essential to the process. And here’s why. Because in the process, when you are at the end of the process the pain is but seconds or near minutes in the grand scheme of the joy that awaits. And I know that seems so trite to say from someone that’s on the other side of that, but I say it because I’ve lived through it. I’ve lived through longing and an enduring of different seasons and came out on the other side. And I can tell you that it all matters. It’s essential to the process. So, please don’t look away. Don’t skip over these important parts. It…it…sit with the pain, sit with the discomfort and invite Jesus into that because there are times we get so focused, so hung up on the promise, on the prize that awaits that the…the thing, the carrot dangling in front of us keeps us running towards it that we forget the Promise Maker, the Promise Keeper, the Way Maker, we forget the Creator of our being. We…we lose intimacy with Him in the pursuit of what it is that were after. And, so my encouragement today is to not look away. Don’t skip over the painful parts of your story. There’s gonna be bitterness, there’s gonna be pain, there’s gonna be regret and sorrow and all of the things that Brian’s talking about as we go through the Old Testament together. But they are essential to the process. They are essential to the part of your story like God is writing with you. Embrace Him. We so often push the person away that we feel like is inflicting pain or the person that is there trying to nurse the wounds. We’re fearful that they’re going to inflict further pain, but I promise you if you embrace Him, you embrace the process, you embrace the part of the journey that is essential as bad as it hurts. But my friends, my brothers, my sisters, don’t look away. Do not look away.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Good morning DAB family this is Tina from Ohio today is September 1st, 2020. I’m calling in for the lady that had called in for requests from having a stroke. O my heart is so heavy for you sister and that you lost your mother to cancer, you know, over a week and a half ago and you’re single mom and you’re still in the hospital and you have a son that has possibly relapsed and turned to drugs again. And I just want to read the Scripture to you it says Psalms 147 and 3, “he healith the broken in heart and bindith up their wounds. My sister the Lord sees, and He is touched by your infirmities and He’s touched by your sorrows. I just ask Lord will You please comfort my sister and I’m asking the Lord to please send Your angels Lord to comfort her and give her peace and to help her in this situation O God. I’m asking yopu Lord to mend the broken heart of her sons O God and help the one son O Lord who is turning to drugs Lord that he would see that You are his father Lord, that You are there to comfort him, You are there to give him peace, You are there to help him God, that he doesn’t need to turn to the drugs O God to fill the void that is in his heart. I pray God that You would help him to forgive. Lord I don’t know what he needs to forgive or who he needs to forgive but I’m asking You Lord to help her son to forgive, that You can come in O God and comfort him and to bless him and to keep him O Lord. I pray for this mother whose heart is broken God. I pray God that You would go to that hospital room right now and to lift her up O God from the stroke and Lord heal her O God and she shall be healed. Save her God from…

It’s September 1st and I just listened to the very end of August 31st. You didn’t say her name, but my heart goes out to you. You’re the woman whose mother passed away about 4 ½ weeks ago and you had a stroke and you have four boys. I just speak Christ over you. As I drove and listened to you reaching out through your current disability I pray that God would resurrect every part of you, every skill that you had, that he would hone you and sharpen you in the name of Jesus. I hope you call back and tell us your name. I’m praying for your boys, that there is no relapse, that there is reconnect, that there is resurrection in your body, resurrection in your family and that God would redeem everything you have been …hat has been taken from you. I pray right now for an amazing birthday for your son and I am believing for the very best for you in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Hey of my wonderful DAB fans this is Kingdom Seeker from Chicago and Lady of Victory and we just want to pray for a couple of DABbers, So, will you please join us. God, we come before You on behalf of Angie Your daughter and our sister God whose son has been diagnosed with by. God, we ask that You would just touch his mind God as he keeps his mind stayed on You. God, I ask that Angie would perhaps play the worship music throughout the house throughout the day God so that the enemy can know who is in charge God. And we ask father that You would just to cover his mind Lord God and help him to turn back to You father and again that the worship music will play against what the enemy is trying to do God. And then we do even pray for Angie as she’s dealing with the Covid patients God that You would give her the patience that she needs to be the conduit that You can use to bring hope God even in these uncertain times with all that she is seeing. God, we ask that she would just turn her heart and her mind towards You so that You can use her God to deliver hope to these people. And dear Lord we lift up Grateful to be a Mother whose son has fallen back into addiction. Lord You came to set the captives free and he whom the son sets free is free indeed. Will You free the son indeed from the…the addiction of drugs and cause him to go free so that this mother can continue to be grateful to be the mother of this son. We give You thanks for what You are doing in his life. And then remember Paul from Tennessee whose son has been divorced with kids and need to be established Lord in their home. I ask that You would provide comfort and strength for the son and give him a sense of renewal in his place with You in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Good morning I wanted to pray with you guys to thank God for a new day. Thank You, Lord, for this new day and please increase our awareness of Your presence and that You are already here with us, that we don’t have to wait for You. Please increase our gratitude, please increase mine and help me to be in tune with You being beside me all day. In Your name. Amen.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family my name is Ranson from Ohio and I want to do something I haven’t done in a long time, which is to encourage you. I have been given a gift of encouragement. I met the Lord over four years ago and I have been sitting on a gift. And, so, I want to take a step of faith today and encourage you that God is the God of the big and little. As I was listening to Brian talk about Job in reading from the book of Job and how awesome and glorious and wonderful God is and how His ways are not our ways and we don’t know what to say or speak at certain times with God, but rest assured that God knows everything that’s going on. I went back through the Prayer Wall which was at least six months and saw all the different requests. I wanted you to know that God is the God of the big. He can heal our nation, but he can also heal the person that needs healing for the body. He can heal the bipolar’s son. He can help those that are relocating to new jobs. He can bring financial help. He can get you off the drugs. He can do everything and anything that you trust Him for. I want you to know that He is a very intimate loving Father who cares about His children deeply. And as you press into him, the Bible says that as we draw nigh to God, God will draw nigh to him, that He, in other words, we both share in each other’s presence and the enjoyment of that. So, I want to encourage this global body that God is awesome and glorious and that he’s just asking for an invitation to come deeper into you. Father, I pray that you answer these requests in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family this is Donald Palmer reading this recording from Juba and South Sudan. Well I…I’m really calling in to thank God for all of you because this morning, which is the 2nd of September, I just listened, I’m behind one day, I’ve just listened to 1st of September and my God I have been blessed by Brian for his profound insight into the book of Job and ending prayer. My God it is a blast. Thank you. Thank you. And I’m not saying this to praise you or…but you probably do not recognize what God is doing through you and your family and you…because you are a very humble person. As a pastor myself I know how uncomfortable I feel when people give me compliments about my preaching and all and I can imagine that you feel the same way. But I just want you to know that you are a blessing to us. May God bless you and your family. May God bless everyone on this platform. My sister Biola thank you so much. Every time you open your mouth, I feel the wisdom of God flowing through you. God bless you sister in Jesus’ name. Amen.

[detroitbydark]

Moonbeams and Ridinghoods Chp 4

Pairing: Werewolf! Haz/Reader

Word Count: 1800+

Summary: Haz and Tom have a heart to heart.

A/N: No reader in this chapter but some interaction between Tom and Haz that was fun to write. Thank you to the Tom to my Jake, @aossi for dealing with me as a short little two chapter piece turns into some odd sprawling, world building thing. Love you!

Tom braces up behind the heavy bag as Harrison goes through a quick combination of punches. Four rapid fire pops sound before he’s stepping back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The blonde takes a breath and then moves back to the bag, hissing out a breath with each blow he places.

Tom watches his friend take a step back, thumbing his nose with his glove as he glares at the bag.

Harrison had been agitated for days now, pacing around the office, snapping at employees, working stupid long hours. It wasn’t like him and Tom was ready to get to the bottom of it. His second in command was usually as smooth and as level as they came.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Harrison looks up from where he’s dropped into a crouch to grab his water bottle. He takes a quick drink and then squirts a stream of water onto his face and into his hair.

“Not really.” He grunts pushing up and squaring up with the bag again.

“You’ve been doing this for nearly an hour.” Tom notes, a bored tone to his voice. Harrison rolls his head from side to side, placing a couple quick jabs in the air in front of him.

“I could do this all day. Your point?”

Tom barks out a dark laugh, “Enough Haz...Jesus Christ do I need to make it an order that you tell me what the fuck is up with you? Just make this easy on the both of us mate, what has got your knickers in a twist?” Maybe it’s the last comment but for a moment Tom thinks his best friend may go after him with one of the one-two punch combos he’s been working on. If that’s what it took to get him talking than so be it but he wasn’t looking forward to it.

The men’s eyes stay locked together for a moment longer before Harrison’s gaze falls to the floor, his shoulders slumping slightly. Tom feels a bit of relief as he watches his friend start pulling his gloves off, using his teeth to loosen the first. Once they’re off he’s sinking to the floor and slumping back against the wall, his head tipped to the ceiling. Tom sits a few feet from him, bringing his own water bottle to his mouth for a drink before he prods at Harrison again.

“So…”

“I like her”

“Y/n? Figured that’s why you've been chatting and why you brought her around the cafe-“

“No Tom, you don’t get it. It’s not just me. The wolf likes her too.” His admission has Tom stiffening. Well that was a new bit of information to digest.

Tom had dated a few girls before Emily had come along but it didn’t take much more than their first kiss for him to be gone on her and that other half, the wolf, had agreed.

As a boy, His father had explained the wolf was the other half of a man’s whole. The wolf was the instinct that humans had forgotten. Dom Holland had taught his boys to listen to their other half, to take into account what it was telling them. For Tom, when the wolf had chosen Emily he’d known that was that. He’d protect her at all costs, cherish her and keep her as his own til his dying breath. Things had been complicated by his inability to come clean with her and it had left her as a target when a pack war had broken out. He shook his head remembering the gut deep guilt he’d felt, the pain he’d felt seeing her in the hospital and then having to explain…

Now Harrison was here telling him that his wolf had made the choice of a girl he barely knew, one who wasn’t pack, wasn’t wolf.

“Are you sure?” Tom asks knowing it’s a stupid question. Harrison glares at him.

“I fucking know. God, I was kissing her and it wanted more. It wanted me to bite her, Mark her up...” Tom can see goosebumps rising over Harrison’s arms as he talks about it and he remembers how persuasive and tempting the wolf could be.

“What did you want?”

“Well the idea of sinking my teeth into her shoulder didn’t sound too bad.” Tom chuckles but it dies off quickly. Harrison runs a hand roughly over his face.

“I just wanted to be able to take her out and have fun. She’s great...like, bloody perfect but she’s here for what? Another couple months and then back across the Atlantic she goes?”

Tom winces he hadn’t even thought of that issue.

“Have you broken things off with her?” It had only been one date but Tom knew how Harrison got with girls he liked, he was like Velcro texting, calling, wanting to spend time with them. At least until he got bored but if his wolf was wanting to lay claim to Y/N than odds are he wasn’t likely to get bored. He doesn’t bother to point this out.

“I’ve fucking ghosted her man.” Harrison reaches into his nearby gym bag pulling out his phone and pulling up his texts he pushes it into his friend's hand.

Little Red: had a great time yesterday. When can we do it again?

Little Red: work blows. What are you doing?

Little Red: I feel like things kind of ended on a weird note the other night? We good?

Little Red: Alright. I get it. Thanks for lunch the other day. I’ll leave you alone.

The timestamps show the messages sent at different points over the last three days, with the most recent from last night. Tom cringes glancing over at Harrison as he reads them. His friend looks fucking miserable. No wonder he’d been acting like such a cunt the last few days.

“So that’s it?” Tom asks. Harrison gives him a narrowed look.

“And what’s that supposed to mean. Figured you of all people would be relieved by it.” Tom growls lowly.

“Cut your shit, Haz. If you want to see her see her just...don’t make the same mistakes I made, yeah?”

“Tom I barely know the girl and all these...feelings are springing up. What am I supposed to do about it?”

“Go with it? I don’t know?” Tom barely dodges the water bottle lobbed at his head.

“And when she leaves? What would you have done if Em had up and gone?”

Tom feels his stomach clench uncomfortably. Yeah, she nearly had but he’s not going to tell Haz (or anybody) about that.

“You don’t want to know brother.” Tom murmurs taking another drink. “Have you thought about maybe it could work. Maybe she’d stay?”

Harrison barks out a laugh.

“Really dude” Tom encourages “you’re the smoothest son of a bitch I know.”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for barely a minute and I drop “hey babe, I’m a werewolf and I’m pretty sure at least half of me is already in love with you. Stay around a while?” Tom do you even hear yourself? She’d think I was a fucking nutter.”

“Do you even SEE yourself, Haz?” Tom asks, “You’re moody as fuck, moping and snapping at everyone around you. You’re already acting like a fucking nutter.” Harrison looks away, finding something interesting on the wall across the room.

“Harrison, call the girl and get your shit together.” Tom pushes up from the floor with a small groan. He stares hard at his friend. He hated to do it to the guy but he’ll pull the alpha card if he needs to. “That’s a fucking order Osterfield.”

Tom doesn’t miss the snarl that escapes Haz’s mouth as he makes his way to the locker room.

The door closes with a soft click and Harrison strides across the room,sinking into the leather chair behind his desk. His hair is still damp from the shower at the gym and his muscles are slowly to ache, the exertion from earlier catching up to him. He had a match in a few weeks and he needed to make sure to pace himself leading up to it. For now though there were other things to worry about.

The face of their Father’s money had been in construction and demolition while the big money had come in by other, more unseemly means. After Emily, Tom had demanded they keep things above board, not willing to put his mate at risk. It had caused a rift between the two generations and lead to Tom and Haz organizing the new pack. It was dicey between the two packs for a while though things between the parents and children eventually returned to normal but the packs stayed separate and the stipulation that things be kept legal would always stand when it came to Tom and Haz.

Now they kept their packmates cared for and employed by running one of the more successful series of clubs and promotions companies London had ever seen. Between the two of them Tom and Harrison oozed enough charm to get the deals they wanted made while Harry and Sam were masters at promotion. Tuwaine headed up security and kept their assets safe and secure with an eye for detail absolutely unrivaled. Emily’s cafe fell under the packs umbrella but she chose to keep it as separate from the clubs as she could, enjoying the comfort of her kitchen and the safe atmosphere her restaurant provided.

Harrison scrolls through the agenda in his phone. Tom had been right. He’d been a world class dick the last couple days and it wasn’t right. He added a note to grab Tuwaine and take him out for drinks at their favorite pub to say sorry. Thankfully the big man was about as understanding as they came but Haz knew he’d been pushing even his good nature to its limits the last few days. Without thinking he swipes from the agenda to his texts and looks at Y/n’s again. He almost wants to thank Tom for making it an order. Almost. He doesn’t know if he would have the balls to contact you again if he didn’t have to.

He types out the text three times.

I’m sorry. Been swamped.

Can’t believe I missed these. What are you doing

I’m a dick do you want to get a drink?

He drops his phone onto his desk after deleting the third one. This wasn’t him.

Propping his elbows on the desk he rests his head in his hands. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the soft press of your lips to his, the way you’d reeled him in for more, the soft, plaintive noise you made. It was so quick, really insignificant in the list of kisses he’d given and received but still, it had been the best he’d ever had. His wolf chided him for letting you go and he was of the mind, now, to agree that it had been thoroughly stupid on his part. His fingers push back through his hair as he sits back up and picks his mobile back up.

I’m sorry about the other night. Can I take you out to dinner? I want to apologize.

[keichanz]

***PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG***

I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. Considering how much the owner hates me and likes the play the poor, pitiful victim, I’m not at all surprised one of his little fans took it upon himself to “warn” the community about me. 

The fools really should have made the posts private just in case I happened to stumble upon them. But then again, I never pegged them to be particularly intelligent. So I suppose I have that in my favor.

I’m sure you’re all well aware of the “famous” Official Inuyasha group on Facebook. This was posted to it just a few hours ago. I’m not a part of this group, however somebody on here was kind enough to alert me to this, and they will remain anonymous so they don’t receive any backlash from this post, but I hope they know they have my plentiful gratitude.

I struggled all day on whether or not to make a post about this. But then I decided, y’know what, I have a goddamn right to defend myself against the above bullshit, so fuck it. Here I am, about to address every libelous accusation this Seth person - whom, mind you, I have never talked to before in my life and I have no idea who the hell he is - has just callously tossed out there.

First and foremost, because this accusation really dug deep and because it’s pretty much the foundation of this bullshit, I want to address the so called fact that I attacked Official Inuyasha - I’m going to call him OIY from here on out - because he’s trans. 

False. 

I will say this as many times as I have to--I do not give a flying fuck that he’s trans. I don’t. That literally has nothing at all to do with my opinion of him, and this Seth dude is just grasping at the most obvious reason, or so he thinks, for my “attacks.” I also want to point out that I also don’t give a shit that his fiance is trans. 

I have gay friends. I have lesbian friends. I have trans friends. I have bi friends.

I myself am motherfucking bisexual.

So for this guy that I’ve never even talked to before to sit there and indirectly claim that I am in any way, shape, or form trans- or homophobic? He’s off his goddamn rocker.

I will say it again: 

I. DO. NOT. CARE.

Oh, and the whole “attacking people I don’t like just because”? Also false, but that goes without saying. Or at least I like to think it does. I also don’t give a rat’s ass that he changed his name to Inuyasha. Do I find it strange? Sure. Do I have a problem with it personally? No. 

Concerning me sending my friends to attack people I don’t like--um, no?? God, I would never, ever ask my friends to do that for fear of retaliation against them.  I can say with the utmost confidence that my friends are fiercely protective, very loyal, and they will voluntarily stand up and defend me without me asking them to. They all know I love them to death and I appreciate them all so much. They have my back, and I have theirs. I don’t send them to say anything on my behalf--they do that all on their own, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop ‘em. People can argue that I have them fight my battles for me, but I disagree. They are my allies, my reinforcements, my backup when I grow weary. Every battle needs them, no? I hope they know that they are so appreciated, very loved, and they have my undying gratitude. I don’t expect them to defend me either, and they know it. All I ask is that they support me in my time of need, and the fact that they rise up to the occasion without question, defend me, support me and protect me at all costs just goes to show what kind of amazing, wonderful people they are and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. 

Regarding the statement that I attacked Seth himself. As I mentioned before, I have no goddamn clue who this guy is. I didn’t even know he existed before my anon friend notified me, and browsing his profile gleans zero recognition. So where the hell is he pulling this shit from? Oh, and I would love to see these proposed screenshots that are “too detailed to post,” mind you, depicting me attacking him. I will show anyone who asks a screenshot of my messages, both on here and on Facebook if they want proof. And I never delete them either--I have messages from like...2015 or some shit.

The discord chat. Seth has conveniently failed to mention the fact that OIY himself joined that chat, and deliberately went through every single channel and searched my name. He found messages I had sent last year that don’t prove anything other than the fact that I think his “beautiful edits” are bogus, but that’s it. Nothing else. My friends and I discussed it briefly, but we never “talked shit” about him. So once more, he’s pulling false facts out of his ass to make me seem like such a horrible person. 

I’m not even going to touch the “he never steals artwork and gives credit” because I have some strong opinions on that, but would rather not get into it since this post isn’t about that.

“I make fun of his cosplay and looks.” I”m assuming he’s referring to that post of OIY in full cosplay with fake black eyebrows. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t find the actual post anywhere on this site, so I suspect it might have been deleted, but if anyone is truly curious, here’s a screenshot that was attached to the above post. So after viewing that, someone please enlighten me how saying “Thanks, I hate it” is, in fact, making fun of his cosplay and/or looks? Yeah, I haven’t a clue, either. But whatever, go off, I guess. 

“I make up lies and brainwashes everyone into thinking it’s truth.” Well, shit, guys, why didn’t somebody tell me I can brainwash people? Because this sure as hell is news to me. What lies are these, exactly? Any idea? No? Hmmm. Welp, anyway, I can attest that this is also false. If I can magically brainwash people I sure as shit wouldn’t be working a job that barely gets me by. And who do I lie to? My friends already support me and carry the same opinions, so it can’t be them. And I take pains to avoid anything and everything that has to do with OIY just for this exact purpose because it’s a pain in my ass. I don’t like the guy. Big fucking whoop. Who cares. Grow the fuck up and move on, Jesus Christ. So, no, you can bet your ass I’m not spreading around lies to random strangers about something I give zero fucks about. 

There. I think I addressed everything in that atrocity of a paragraph. The comments on that post are less than pleasant - I’ll spare you the details, but most of them included various degrading names and ridiculous statements - and I find myself just...incredulous that these people, who don’t even know me, so readily agree with something that has no basis of fact. It astounds me that they accept this bullshit as truth just because someone says it is without seeing for themselves first. Talk about blind faith. Very misguided/misinformed blind faith. 

It truly does sadden me that people are so quick to judge without getting facts, but that’s the way of the world, isn’t it. 

Moving on, I suppose this post can be considered as an open letter to Seth Whiterun, and any of OIY’s followers that happen to see this. So please, feel free to reblog this all you want. Reblog it once, twice, ten times. I want them to see it. I want to right the wrong that Seth has so callously dealt me and have the chance to defend myself given that he made a post to a group that I am not a part off like a damned coward, knowing there was little chance of me seeing it. 

Well, surprise, Seth Whiterun. I saw it.

I want them to come to me. This directly involves me, no one else. What right does Seth have to say any of that? Absolutely none. 

I am tired of this. How many times do I have to put up with this? This is so mentally exhausting and I just want to be left alone. Again and again I’m having to deal with this complete and utter bullshit because some asshat with a hero complex decides that it’s his job to “warn” the community of this toxic person with, need I remind you, zero evidence in which to prove himself with. Or at least evidence with any credible standing. 

This entire situation is old. Am I dealing with children? Why can’t they just let sleeping dogs lie and put it behind them? I sure as hell have - or at least I’m trying to, but then shit like this happens and I’m dragged right the fuck back into it because of course I’m not going to just sit there and let this guy slander my name. Did he think I was going to remain quiet about this? WRONG. 

Now that I’ve said my piece, I want to implore you my dear followers and friends, please, please, please DO NOT contact Seth Whiterun or Official Inuyasha. I understand if you get angry on my behalf, but please, I don’t want to get you mixed up in this. If Seth has the balls to confront me himself, or one of OIY’s followers, or even the guy himself, then by all means, they are free to come forward and we can discuss like this adults. Otherwise, please don’t go attacking Seth or OIY because that will just affirm to them that I do send my friends after them, and I really don’t want that. 

I think that about covers it. I wanted it to be known that if you happen to hear any of this bullshit, please be aware that it is untrue, and I am more than happy to answer any question directly. Message me. Send an ask. I will clear up any confusion or misinformation. Don’t assume something is true just because you read it somewhere--get the facts from the source first. 

There you have it. Grow a pair, Seth, and confront me yourself.

I’ll be waiting. 

[lucarioisinthevoid]

Henry, could you tell us about the times William had to take care of you? What happened that made it neccessary?

(Anonymous said:Henry, could we get a bit more info on that one time you got sick and made Music Man? What made you create this monstrosity? Was your fever THAT high?)

Henry looked at the asks.“I am refusing to answer that. Nothing good will come from that answer.”You can answer, or you can meet up with your other sel-“OKAY, OKAY. Fine.”Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he began explaining.“I avoid William taking care of me at all costs. It makes him too… confident. A confident Will is a troublesome will, downright sabotaging my projects for “my best”. He is obsessed with the notion that he could enact control. It is easy to forget, but he is as much of a psychopath as I am and he has his controlling, ruthless side. Thus, showing weakness around him is very foolish idea. A few very unlucky times though, he caught me in a less than ideal situation.”It was really difficult for him to remember, seeing as he was really out of it.The last thing he really was ABLE to remember was that he had caught a cold, ignoring it however, these things came and go.What Dave came DOWN to however was Henry laying halfway over the table, chuckling to himself for WHATEVER reason, burning to the touch.Panicked Dave picked him up, feeling extremely freaked out by the fact that he could now just DO that, without Henry attempting to attack him.All he got was more laughter from the Pink Guy, as he hung over his shoulder, almost like a dead body.With lightning speed, Dave got him into bed, and proceeded to try his best to nurse him back to health.Surprisingly enough this didn’t ensued in him trying to freeze his friend alive, even if it could have saved a lot of kidden’s lives.Instead he actually did the sensible thing, putting cold, wet towels onto his forehead and ensuring he got the sleep he needed. Once deeply dreaming, he ran off to rob a pharmacy and forcing the people within it to tell him what exactly to use on his dying c o m e r a d e.When Henry woke up, roughly 14 hours later, he looked at Dave, grinning, completely doped out of his mind.His fingers felt cold and somewhat wet as he put them onto Dave’s neck, pulling him closer down.“Looookie… here. ‘ave. Pft….fffff…. lookat’chaFACE!” Mockingly he took Dave’s cheeks and pulled them apart. “BiiiiiiiiiiiiiG Eyyyes you’f got… BAD wolf! BAd! WooOOOOoOF!”After that he broke out into laughter that resulted into a cough so bad that Dave was about to pick him up and slap on his back SO hard, it would break- thankfully he calmed down beforehand though.Suddenly he seemed close to tears. “Lookssssssssssssss- you’llliek- bein’here iS GR- Good. I’M- MoVd. GOTTA- gotta Do SOMEThhi- FORYOU!”He struggled to get out of bed and almost fell, before Dave caught at him. “Thnks.”“Henry- I- uh- I don’t think you should-““SHUTUP! SHUTU-UP, I’MDOINTHIS nOW! I LOV Y- YE SO I’LL- I’ll...” Staggering forward, he moved to the desk, sitting down and slamming his fist. “YOU’RES- SCARED oF Sps- SPs- Spiderss, YES?”“… Henry, I’m literally beggin’ ya-““NO MORE!” Taking a pen and a paper from the things that literally ALWAYS were on the table in his room, he started to scribble.“WE’LLBEGIVEN- IT LEGS. EIGHT. EIGHT LEGS. No. SIX. SIX LEGS AND THEN HANDS. NO. NO HANDS. CYMBALS! FUTURE, THIS IS THE FUTURE.”“Henry, please lay down-““NO….oooooOOOO! No. BOTH. CYMBLLll… HANDs. Yeahhhh. GOOD. AND THENNNN BIG OLE EYES! BIG’N’BLACK! BIG. OLE. EYSIES. AND NOSE TOO.”“Henry, I HATE it-““SHSHSHSH, I’M NOOT! NOT! DONE. WE’RE GONNA GIVE HIM A BIIIIIG GOOFY SMILE! YEAH. WE’LL- WE’LLDO THAT. Willdo that.”Worried Dave peeked over his shoulder to see an abomination on the paper. The most surreal part was that it was actually somewhat well-drawn, as if some ungodly force guided Henry’s hand.There were even notes on how to help it keep balance and where to put all the songs it was allowed to perform.Oh, also, how it laid eggs in the ballpit.Jesus CHRIST-“Henry this ISN’T making me feel better at all““YOU’LLLLLOVEHIM! AB-SO-LUT. Ly.” A bit confused he stared in front of him. “Spiderss are OUR FRIENDS! YOUR FRIENDS- You’ll be- you’lll be over your- your f- you fo- your phobia in no time. You’Re goinn to make MUSIC toghtr, for a LONGGlONG TIME!”That must have been one of the most terrifying things Dave ever had the displeasure to hear.Grabbing him now with a sense of determination, ignoring his complaining and kicking about, Dave got him back into bed and KEPT him there. “You’ll be stayin’ in BED until you feel BETTER. I AIN’T MOVING AN INCH UNTIL YOU’RE HEALTHY.”“Fpmfpsmmm…” The insulted mumble came back.When Henry woke up, he wasn’t QUITE sure what happened, but assumed he had simply gone to sleep after finishing a project.The fact that he was missing a whole day unnerved him though.Also the fact that Dave was sleeping on a chair by the bed.He wasn’t supposed to be in his room during the night.With an irritated sigh he sneaked out of bed and to his table, where he had a bunch of finished projects laying around, ready to be send to the factory for evaluation. Creating a prototype, testing the functions, you name it.Quickly he gathered the papers together and set them aside to be able to send them away later on.Instantly Dave jumped up and tackled him to hug him so tightly that the poor man couldn’t breathe.“Wiiiliaaaam… stoooop… my… chest….”“YOU’RE BETTER, I’M SO HAPPY, HENRY I WAS SCARED, YOU WERE ALL WEIRD, HENRYYYYYYYYYYYY-“The poor man was only able to wheeze.Unhappy Henry crossed his arms. “… it is never a good thing to be sick around anyone.”Let him forget about his faults, PLEASE.Let him forgot about how AWFUL he acts when really sick.At that point in time he thought he was a GENIUS.CURING SOMEONE’S PHOBIA BY CREATING AN ANIMATRONIC THEMED AROUND IT?Absolutely 1000 IQ decision right there, WHAT COULD GO WRONG.By now he deeply hates Music Man and everything he created during his episode.BUT HEY, HE COULD LOCK IT AWAY WITH ALL THE OTHER ABOMINATION!Thank the universe for the wonderful concept of s u p p r e s s i o n !Don’t ever remember him of being sick ever again.