#my sister comes home and is like “why didn’t you use the chainsaw” and I was like “why didn’t you tell me you had a chainsaw”

[tsuchinokoroyale]

My sister asked me to clear an overgrown area of her backyard for her to do some gardening so I put on my butch jockstrap and went to town on some holes

[amnxsia]

The Honored One 

“Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one. Only my pleasure and displeasure exists.”

A/n: This fic is apart of @zeeroweenies​ fright night collab!

Thank you to @namrekcaivel and @peachy-momos for beta reading!

Both Eren and reader are aged up they are around 4000 years old! 

Mikasa is ooc

Taglist: @kirsteiiins @callmepromise, @namischild, @namrekcaivel, @aotwrites, @erens-piss-cleaner, @sofi-yeager, @peachysimp, @fiaficsxo, @eremiie, @odmlevis, @instantnuma, @levibasketcase, @weepinglevi, @bruhstories, @yuedama

Summary: What do mortals with powers of a demigod on their side desire the most? More power. But that’s were you come in.

Content: A lot of violence, descriptions of violence, death (the reader nor eren dies), angst, smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers, mentions of sacrilege, fingering (fem is receiving) virginity loss but with a twist, squirting, unprotected sex. 

Trigger Warnings: Violence, descriptions of violence, death, descriptions of death, blood, murder, god complex, impact play, edging,  praise kink, corruption.

Word Count: 6436

all references to chainsaw man, jujustu kaisen, and attack on titan belongs to the authors only. 

Demigods which are offsprings of a god and a human. This particular demigod was the offspring of Grisha and Carla Jeager. Grisha was the god of health and medicine; Asclepius. While Carla was just a ordinary beautiful and strong human who somehow, someway caught the eye of Grisha. They would wed and birth the demigod of war and violence;

Eren Jaeger.

2000 years ago

Carla’s village said his name like a prayer almost everyday at the altar, and it was for sure a prayer. Every since the council of her village had came into contact with him they had gain new and powerful powers, but women of all ages went missing under strange circumstances rumors had started spreading like wildfire, the one rumor that stood out from them all to her was “he would first take their pureness and then devour their souls, as a punishment of falling for temptation.”

Carla’s heart sank, and her anger boiled inside of her now knowing the reason why her mother and dear sisters went missing all those years ago. The endless crying, the endless begging to Gods, now knowing that Grisha Jaeger was her god, he had saved her and her village from living-hell so it only made sense that he take anything and everything that she held dear to he heart. Except for one thing.

You can’t gain anything if you don’t lose anything, right?

Carla dashes out of her old home, nothing but pure hatred, rage, flowing through her veins.

It was a windy, rainy night but that didn’t stop her. She used her “Infinity” to shield her body and view from the falling rain. She keeps running until she finds herself in the main street of the village, she see a moving figure above a lifeless corpse feasting on it’s arm, their face entirely covered in stained blood, from freshly feasting on a arm the once stained blood covered with fresh dripping blood, dripping on the person’s abdomen.

Carla’s grip on her katana tightens.

“GRISHA.” Carla says her breathing becoming labored from all the pent of emotions.

The figure stops and takes off their coat revealing a toned body, paired with sliver rings, accompanied with army boots.

Grisha smirks at Carla. “Well hello Carla I’m so sorry you had to find me like this feasting upon these mortals but I can’t help it, a god has to eat too right?”

“You bastard, how dare you show up to this village, make everyone trust you, and then go behind their backs like this.”

“Oh? You care about these pathetic mortals all of sudden? Don’t you remember what you did? When you finally decided not to give a shit, and finally gave into your bloodlust.”

Your grip on your katana tightens “Don’t try to spin this around on me, what happened to helping, treating everyone, protecting everyone.” 

“PROTECTING EREN?!?”

“What happened to him, huh? What happened to us?”

Grisha starts laughing.

“Eren will end up just like us, but he would be better than me, he would not fall in love with a pathetic mortal. Carla don’t you realize I used you, just for the sake of continuing my bloodline, so the Jaeger family can continue on without me.”

Ignoring the hateful words that came out of Grisha’s mouth. Carla unhooks her katana’s from the case, without having to look up she notices energy started to from from the dead corpses' Grisha had feasted upon.

5?

No.

10?

No.

15.

Alright.

Carla starts to sprint towards the corpses slicing open the first 5.

I can’t spend too much energy on these corpses' I need to save it for Grisha.

In the distance she see’s a chain wrapped around a pole. 

I could insert some of my energy into the chain, and then somehow make the rest of the corpses come into contact with it, then automatically killing them all. 

But there’s a car in front of the pole.

No problem.

Carla starts to run faster, and then pushes her body up in the air, gracefully lacing her hand with the chain.

Just a little energy.

Exerting a small amount of energy with the chain Carla swings the chain in the direction of all the corpses, killing them all.

“GIRSHA” She says running and grabbing her katana and covering it with the chain. She was focused, determined to strike down her husband. She jumps on the roofs of multiple houses.

She knows he’s out of luck by sensing his cursed energy weakening by the minute.

She looks at her surroundings she sees nothing out of the ordinary. So she pulls out a seal, folds in it half, then takes the fold and positions it at the end of her blade slicing it in half, and then positioning it once more so it could stay in place.

And she aims at Grisha.

“Sealing Technique-.”

And then she hears it.

Crying.

A baby.

A baby crying.

She looks around frantically, and then she spots the baby in the middle of the road.

“EREN!”

She jumps off the roof of the house she had once been running on. She instantly lands near Eren’s side dropping her weapon. She swoops down and collects Eren in her arms she starts to rock him with a simile on her face. She looks around her and see’s Grisha grabbing at the Earth she knows she doesn’t have much time left with her son, but she makes it count.

“Eren listen to me and listen to me well. In another 2000 years I will be reincarnated so just wait for me okay? Whoever I reincarnate into please be kind and be loving, don’t let your father’s energy and powers manipulate you into something that you aren’t. Be true and stay true to who you are. I wished I had more time with you as mother and son, but it’s just the way it is loving certain people, loving your father to be specific but I wouldn’t have it any other I love him & you so much. Goodbye Eren.”

And with that Carla feels something sharp go into her back and somehow she gently places you down onto the grass. She falls onto her back, looking upward to meet her husbands lusted filled eyes.

Somehow Carla managed to do the unthinkable.

“Eren will overcome the curse of the Jaeger family, and he will seal your presence away for good I promise you Grisha but first let’s rest for another 2000 years until we meet again.”

Grisha doesn’t say anything.

Carla makes a gesture with her hands and Grisha feels a gust of a wind and looks over and see’s a katana with a sealing heading straight towards his head.

Grisha feels blood trickle down his forehead as he begins to wobble on his feet. He collapses next to Carla who’s takes his hand into his. 

Carla and Grisha both looks over at Eren who’s already out of his blanket, already at the of age 7 he walks towards the rising sun and after taking seven steps Eren looks back at his dying parents he points to the sun and says with a smirk on his face “Throughout Heaven and Earth I alone am The Honored One.”

2000 years later

You awake to your mother patting on your shoulder. “Y/n it’s time to get up today is  a special day for our village and the people in it.”

“What day is it today Mother?” You ask sleep still heavy on your mind.

“Today is the day where we welcome the person who will save us.”

For some reason your head begins to hurt, but you dismiss the feeling.

“Okay. Let me get dress, and I’ll be out there.”

And with that your mother leaves you by yourself to get dressed. While discarding your sleeping clothes you can’t help but to let your mind wander on the mystery person who would “save” your village.

Now making your way to the altar where everyone is supposed to be at, you see your mother and your best friend so you decide to stand by them, and welcome the stranger. While talking to your friend about the mysterious savior you feel a sense of deja vu washes over you. But before you can say anything a group of people begin to come into your line of sight.

 They’re all walking in front of the person of the hour. But your eyes ignore them and they swiftly land on the boy who’s hair is swept back into a manbun, a single ring adorning his thumb. The group of people finally make it to where you and all the other citizens are standing.

The priest says his hello’s, welcome’s, and thank you’s for gathering here. And then he finally turns to boy and introduces him as Eren Jaeger; a demigod who has come to aid the village.

Eren eyes dart to the crowd.

Without even doing, saying anything, everyone got on their knees and hands for him, exchanging thank you’s, welcome’s, and how they believed that he was the almighty one and how blessed they are to be graced with his presence.

But you weren’t on your knees thanking him, no you were there standing with a straight face staring at him. Everyone goes quiet at your clear disrespect, you could hear the faint rustling of the grass you were standing on. The deja vu you were feeling earlier became stronger, and you were determined to figure it out why even if it meant dying at the hands of a god.

Eren’s eyes dart to yours causing the wind current to change. The tension between you both began to thicken. And that’s when Eren begins to walk towards you, but you don’t back down, your body doesn’t shake with fear, not one of your thoughts in your mind tell you to run away. No you were unfazed by him.

Eren’s face is now centimeters apart from yours, you both look directly into each other’s eyes, no you both were looking directly into each other’s souls, trying to find something, anything that you both could grab on and never let go. And that’s when you see his hand come into contact with your jaw, his fingers were pretty you thought.

He drags his index finger across your jaw, and then cups your entire face with his hand. 

“What’s your name, pet?”

“M’ not your pet, get your hands off me.” You slap his hand away from his face.

The contact between you and Eren went straight to his cock, making his entire body shiver in ecstasy.    

Ah. There it is.

“Y/N-” your mother said quickly getting up reaching for your body.

Eren quickly looks to where your mother is “Shut up, and sit down mortal this isn’t your concern.”

Your mother quickly mutters a apology and returns to where she once sat. 

That created arousal which began to drip down into your panties.

Eren turns away from you and your mother his eyes now focused on the higher ups “remember our deal.”

“Yes of course.”

And with that the higher ups begin to make their leave but they notice that Eren is not following them.

“Sir is something wrong?”

Eren ignores them and begins to walk back towards you, this time he grabs your neck roughly, and slams you into the grass, and presses his half-hardened cock against your lower thigh.

“I asked you a question, and I expect you to answer it yeah?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n what? Use your words pet.”

“Y/n L/n”

And with that he lets you go and retreats with the other higher ups with a smirk on his face.

But he stops again and turns back to you.

He turns to the other people who are still on their knees, and the higher ups. 

“Leave us.” he says and everyone is dismissed, now leaving you and him.

Eren sits down on the grass next you.

“I thought it was common courtesy when a human of low standards like yourself interacts with a high being like myself they’re supposed to kiss me, as a token of their gratitude.”

“And who said I’m grateful to you? All I did was give you my name. And speaking of names you never told me yours.”

“My name? No one has ever been interested in my name, just my title.”

“Title?”

Eren smiles “Each God has it’s own title which everyone refers them to, my birth name is unimportant to the world.”

The sun is beginning to set, and you both fall into a comfortable silence. You gain the courage to break it.

“What if it’s important to me?”

“Oh? We’ve only knew each other for a whole hour and you already asking for my name.” Eren says getting up from sitting on the grass.

“Yeah so?”

That’s when Eren bends over and and his lips are close to the shell of your ear, “You’re going to have to work, beg, show me that you’re worthy of knowing my name and title, and maybe who knows maybe I’ll give you so much more, I genuinely find you intriguing” Eren said licking and gently biting the shell of your ear. 

“So do I” you said your core throbbing with anticipation. “I’m glad, well I’ll see you around pet.” And with that Eren disappears leaving you with a ache between your legs, and so many unanswered questions.

After catching your breath, you began to make your way home realizing that so much time had passed during your conversation with Eren. While making it closer to your home you mind begins to wander about the many things Eren had said. The feeling of remembering him, but from where exactly all clouded your mind, and the ache he left in between your legs. 

You finally arrive at your front door, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling. You open your door to find a empty house, and a note on the dining room table. You walk over to pluck it from the table reading;

Out to get something for dinner! - Mom

Weird. You thought to yourself. Mother always used to preach about being in the house at an appropriate and decent time. You dismiss the thought, turning over the note to see if there was anything else written on it.

The second your skin comes in contact with the note, a surge of electricity shoots through your body going straight to your core. it made you collapse slightly to the floor, making you rut against it causing tiny moans to spill out from your virgin mouth. Your mind instantly shoots back to your interaction with Eren, his words causing more moans to fall out

You dig your hands into your thighs, ceasing, the moans coming from you. But the throbbing in your legs doesn’t cease no they intensify. During this moment and time, nothing else mattered except Eren.

You began to stand up and make your way towards your bedroom. Not after 5 minutes, you find yourself inside your room. You close the door and quickly place yourself in your bed, you prop your legs up and slightly spread your legs so you could have access to your cunt.

But this is as far as you can go, begin a virgin you weren’t sure what to do. all you ever did was dry hump your pillow and sheets when Mother wasn’t looking or wasn’t near.

So you pondered about the best way to successfully chase and fully experience your release. You finally decide to start teasing yourself at the hem of your panties. 

You pause. Deciding to give yourself a moment to rest.

You finally pull down your panties and spread your legs even wider to access even more of your cunt.

You finally enter a finger into your cunt; the new intrusion hurts a bit but the pain quickly transforms into pleasure, overcome by the new found pleasure you quickly thrust your single finger in out of your swollen cunt.

But you suddenly stop. Eren’s words about working for something you want comes rushing back to you. You decide to slow down to relax your breathing.

You close your eyes for what seems about entirety until you open them. Titling your head from the ceiling you see Eren sitting on a chair in front of you with his head in the palm of his ring, adorned hand

“My my, what do we have here?” Eren says in a teasing tone.

“I-” You say with your finger still knuckles deep in your cunt.

“Shush pet, it’s fine. Don’t be ashamed you look so beautiful like that.” Eren says getting up from his chair as he begins to take off his shirt. 

Your mind begins to wander, in thought about how good Eren looks right now before you. shirt thrown to the floor, a  chest sculpted by God. your eyes quickly shift to his cock which is painfully strained against his pants; his hair pulled back into a manbun but it soon begins to unravel. Eren fully discards the hair tie, his brown locks falling to his shoulders.”

Before you know it, Eren is now straddling you. he grabs your hand, swiftly taking your single finger out of your cunt and bringing it to his mouth, licking your finger clean.

Virgin.

Eren’s lust filled eyes dart to your glassy ones. He can feel your trembles beneath him.

Poor baby.

“Pet, what are you so afraid of? I’m not gonna hurt you.” Eren leans down to you biting your earlobe and whispers; “Not unless you want me to of course.”

 You begin to panic. “No, no of course not. I’ve just never done this before.” Eren smirks, giving you a peck on the forehead before scooting off the bed to drop down and come face to face with your throbbing cunt.

The sight of your needy little virgin hole waiting to be filled goes straight to Eren’s cock.

Eren quickly runs his index finger across your folds, gathering your juices. A guttural moan escapes your mouth causing you to shove your face into the pillows, hiding from embarrassment. Eren reaches his hand over your body. he cups your face, guiding it to look at him. 

But before you start, what and who are you?” You ask with pure curiosity lacing your voice. Eren spreads your legs and traces your outer thighs with his pointer finger, smirking to himself.

And at that moment, Eren plunges three of his fingers into your cunt. You release a pornographic like moan.

“I’m whatever you want me to be.”

And at that moment, Eren plunges three of his fingers into your cunt. You release a pornographic like moan.

Naughty girl.

Eren stops momentarily letting you adjust to his size. And after a few seconds he begins to speed up.

“W-what do you mean whatever I want you to be?” You say whimpers catching into your throat.

Eren’s voice was shrouded with lust and darkness.

“That means I can be Your Friend.”

Eren’s body begins to shift to different parts of the room with each word.

“A Lover.”

“A God.”

“The Devil himself.”

“Eren.”

“A son.”

“A Demigod.”

“A human.”

Every word seems to draw you closer to your release.

“Eren I’m-”

“I know pet, cum for me.”

“I’m- cumming!!!”

“Yes, yes just like that pet you got this.” Eren coos into your ear.

And on cue you cum around Eren’s fingers.

What’s happening?

Why does everything feel so good?

Where am I?

So many questions. But the only thing you could think and care about was how good it finally feels to be corrupted. To finally be conquered by the mysterious boy you feel so connected to for some odd reason.

 And suddenly, you’re brought back to reality by the sounds of slurping. You prop yourself up from the bed to see Eren licking his fingers clean from what it seems to be as your juices.

“That was a pretty intense orgasm pet, didn’t know you were a squirter.”

“I didn’t know that either, glad we know now huh?”

“We? So you’re saying there’s a next time?”

“There’s always a next time.”

Eren’s shit-eating grin forms on his face, he gets up and pushes you down onto the bed.

Both of you were panting like bitches in heat. it sure was turning you both on again. But Eren doesn’t do anything. no, he does the opposite. he leans close to your ear and whispers;

“That’s my girl.”

“What-?”

Before you can say anything else, Eren snaps his fingers and disappears. But then the room transports you elsewhere. 

 You’re blinded by a light which takes you a moment to readjust to the lightning. after a few seconds, you open your eyes and awake in a sandy area. The grainy but soft sand slides across your bare body. And for some reason, your hand comes up to your hair; its long and shoulder length. Then you look up to see trails of light in the sky resembling an aurora.

“Hello?! is anyone here?!” You question, trying to get up from the sand but you can’t move. You begin to panic, heartbeat accelerating. “Hello?!! Someone help me! I can’t move, I’m stuck here!!”  

“Hello, is anyone here?” You say trying to get up from the sand but you can’t move. 

You begin to panic, your heartbeat begins to accelerate. “Hello?!! Someone help me I can’t move I’m stuck here!!”

You see a figure in the distance.

Its a girl holding a pail. She has blonde hair thats reaches to her shoulder with a headband accompanying it. though her emotions and face looks unreadable.

“HELLO CAN YOU HELP ME PLEASE I DONT KNOW HOW I GOT HERE OR WHY BUT PLEASE HELP ME!!”

The girl crouches down next to you and begins molding your body with the sand.

“Thank you so much. I can’t move, the sand is burying my body.” 

But she doesn’t responds. You’re confused. why isn’t she saying or doing anything to help you get out of here?

As you begin to lose yourself in thought, you catch a glimpse of a few more figures. but as they come closer, you realize that there are more people in the crowd.

Hundreds?

Thousands?

Millions? 

As they get more and more closer to you, you see they’re all walking in a single file line, each of them chained up by their necks and hands.

You look back to the girl to see if her expression changed even a bit.

Nothing. 

She doesn’t even look their way, her eyes paying attention to you and the sand in her hands only.

The people circle around you and the girl, but one of them stands in front of you; their leader. Your eyes dart to the person before you.

“Who are you? What is this place?”

“My name is Carla Jaeger. I’m the past Control Devil, and you’re in the Paths.”

“Paths? Control Devil?”

“Yes, the Paths are where the pervious and most recent Control Devils come to meet but time is irrelevant and conflicting here. The Control Devil is the embodiment of control and order.”

Carla raises her hand out and snaps them, transporting you and everyone to where all the trails converge into one. There, you notice a big glowing-like tree.

“This is the Coordinate. this where all and every human beings come to cross.”

The girl finally stops molding the sand and stands back up with her pail and leaves.

Suddenly, the sand on your body feels lighter so you proceed to get up.

Your appearance has changed. Your hair has become longer and reaches down to your shoulders; the clothes you were once wearing has changed to a white shirt with dark pants and black boots.

As soon you as you rise from the sand, all the previous Control Devil holder’s quickly got down on their hands and knees.

You ignore their presence and you make your way towards Carla.

“I need answers.”

“About?”

“Everything. What the Control Devil is, it’s abilities. and why I am here?”  

Carla sighs, her body tenses. “If I do, your life will be forever changed.”

You stand in front of the glowing tree admiring it.

“My life changed when Eren Jaeger appeared in it.”

“How did you? I didn’t say-” Carla says while approaching you. But then she quickly decides against it, sitting down on the sand instead.

“It’s funny how much information you can get from someone’s body language.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you then. But first off, you need to learn the Jaeger curse and why your here.”

“Go on.”

Jaeger curse? You thought.

“You’re a reincarnation of me. Of the Control Devil specifically. When devils die, they’re automatically reincarnated in the Paths.” 

“So that’s why I’m here.” Your voice laced with a tone of sadness.

“Yes.”

“And the Jaeger curse?”

“The Jaeger curse is a curse within my family. Or the family I married into to be specific. The curse is tempting someone to willingly give something away to gain something else. 2000 years ago, my husband Grisha fell to the curse. we fought, we both died. and Eren-”

“What happened to Eren?” 

“Grisha implanted some of his memories into him. And when you awaken your powers, the memories of Grisha would awaken.” For some reason your blood began to boil and your fists began to ball. You walked to Carla, grabbing her by her chain, forcing her to look directly at you.

“If your implying that my only purpose on this Earth was to kill your only son, then go to hell! What’s the purpose of this reincarnation if all we’re going to do is kill our own flesh and blood?”

“You can’t gain anything in this world without sacrificing something. That’s just how the world is, it’s how that village is.”

“What do you mean that’s how the village is?”

“They’re plotting to kill you both during the Rumbling.”

The Rumbling was a festival where the village would gather together and watch the moon crumble to the sea. it would once again purify the sins of the Earth.

“I’m not letting that happen, not a snowballs chance in hell. How do we break the curse and stop the Rumbling?”

“That’s up to you and Eren I’m afraid.”

Carla’s will over her own body was fading, slowly dissipating. you ran up to her body, grabbing her chain once again, and you closed the distance between you both. 

 “MY NAME IS Y/N L/N, THE NEXT HOLDER OF THE CONTROL DEVIL! CARLA JAEGER, AND THE PREVIOUS HOLDERS OF THE CONTROL DEVIL, WITH MY ALL AND EVERY SINGLE OUNCE OF MY POWER, I WILL PUT A END TO THIS CURSE AND TO THIS WORLD!” 

 And with that, every single detail of the Control Devil appeared. All 13 previous holders point their finger at you as their memories come rushing to you simultaneously.

Control Devil Abilities:

Other names; Y/n L/n

Divergence: Crush anyone with an invisible force

Convergence: Can kill anyone if they look, or point at the target

Enhanced smell

Can absorb the life spans of humans through physical contact

Can bestow contracts upon humans 

Restores its health by consuming blood

Should revive in Hell after being killed effectively making it an immortal

Hades Abilities:

Other names; Eren Jaeger 

Inhuman Speed: Can travel and attack at high speeds.

Can sever the arms of several humans.

Death Stare: If staring directly at another being, they will begin to hemorrhage immense amounts of blood until death.

Like the Control Devil Hades can bestow contracts upon humans

Enhanced smell

Unlike the Control Devil Hades will not be reincarnated if the Jaeger curse is broken

Has the power to call on the Founder

You awake, you’re still in your bed. you look down to see your hand out of your folds with cum oozing out of you.

Oh, so that’s what he did. Smart.

You rise from your bed. The Control Devil’s powers, the markings, and the memories; they’re all freshly settling in your brain.

You make your way towards your bedroom mirror taking in your new appearance. 

You smile to yourself tracing your hand on the mirror.

2000 years.

I’m going to kill them all.

I’m going kill them all and I won’t care.

Why?

Because I can and I will.

Starting with that fucking woman.

You put on your shoes, you make your way downstairs noticing that your Mother still wasn’t home but that was alright you thought to yourself knowing you had enough time to carry out your plan.

You enter the kitchen to find the listed items; vinegar, acid, a hammer, and nails.

And you head to the living room to find a stack of playing cards.

You knew that Mother loved white wine, and card games it was her favorites. She talked to fucking much and it’s now going be the reason she dies tonight.

Ironic.

You get two wine cups from the cupboard first filling the cup with actually white wine, secondly adding vinegar, thirdly adding two large doses of acid. And then setting the cards in the middle of the table.

You sit in one of the chairs while propping one of your legs over the other. You decide to drift off to sleep until your Mother arrives home.

You awake from sleep to the sound of a door opening and then quickly closing.

“Ah Y/n sweetie did I wake you?”

“No you didn’t Mother I was actually waiting for you.”

“Oh? What’s the matter?”

“I planned a game for us since we never hangout like Mother and Daughters are supposed to.”

“Oh Y/n you didn’t have to, plus it’s late we should be sleep by now.”

“Oh but I wanted to Mother, and sleep can wait.”

“If you insist then. What’s the game?”

“Drinking and Gambling.”

“What are we gambling?”

Your pathetic life.

“You’ll see.”

“What are the rules?”

“There are no rules we just drink, and talk about our day.”

“Do you want to go first Mother?”

“Sure why not.”

You lean back into your chair patiently waiting for her take a sip of her wine which would cause her to unravel soon, then the real game would begin.

“Nothing really happened today I just worked, helped children and elders at the community center. I met the “Savior” there he told me how good of a person you were. He finds you intriguing. I also meet some of the higher ups who are there to protect Eren their names are Floch, and Armin. He also hangs around a girl named Mikasa.”

“Oh that’s interesting to know thank you so much for sharing.”

“No problem darling, I also went to get food for dinner but it’s cold now so sorry about that.” She starts to giggle a red flush decorating her face showing that the wine is getting to her.

It’s time.

“Let’s play another game shall we? This is going to be the gambling part.” You said taking the cards from the middle of the table, and then opening the box depositing them all on the table in front of you. 

“Oooooo cards!!!” 

You quietly mutter under your breath; “Contract bestowing.”

“Mother before the game starts I’m going to need you to repeat a few words after me.”

“Mmm sure honey!!!”

Bingo.

“Y/n is going to reveal everything about herself and in exchange if I lie I will die.”

You set the hammer and nails down on the table.

“Uh oh honey what’s with the hammer??”

“Oh nothing it’s just for if you decide to step out of line.”

Your mother’s façade changes within seconds and the real person shows.

“Well well, it seems that my daughter is no longer the girl I thought she used to be.”

“Ah there we are! I wasn’t sure if I would need the extra add-ons.” You said pointing to the nails and then throwing them across the room.

“All I need is the hammer and we’re good to go. So mother, do you notice anything different at all? Have any questions or answers for me?”

“You’re not a virgin anymore.”

“Hehe no I am not, your almighty savior took it for me, which I gladly obliged.”

“You’re a slut.” Your mother said her knuckles turning white from how tightly she held the glass.

“No no I’m not a slut mother I’m the Control Devil, and that “Savior” you were talking about isn't a savior at all, he’s Hades or the god of War and Violence.”

“You’re wrong.” Your mother said tears flowing down her face.

“Am I though? All they want in the end is me and Eren’s head on a stake, and our powers for themselves,  they don't care who they hurt unless we’re both 6ft under.”

You get up from your seat making your way towards your mother you crouch down to her ear “In other words, your mere existence means nothing to me and to them, you’re a slave; nothing more than cattle.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see your mother holding a knife in her hand and before you know it she swiftly shoves you with your shoulder causing you to fall down on the floor.

“I’m going to make sure that you die here tonight daughter.” 

She stabs you in the stomach multiple times, the squelching of the knife going in and out of your torso almost unbearable for her to hear but at the same time she feels no remorse.

After about 10 minutes of her stabbing you endlessly just to make sure you were completely dead. She drops the knife on blood-covered floor near your body.

She takes in the scene of the bloody living room, the bookshelf she slammed you into disheveled, the wine glass she was drinking out of on the floor, the hammer you had in your hand flew across the living room and it was a few centimeters away from your body.

“Stupid girl.” She sighed turning around but she suddenly stops in her tracks.

“sTUpiD gIRL¿“ You say rising from the blood covered floor.

“How are you-”

“I made sure you were-”

“dEAD¿ aLiVE?”

You begin to laugh hysterically.

“Your supposed to be dead, I stabbed you over at least 100 times.” Her blood running cold at the mere thought.

You begin to walk to your mother with your organs hanging out your stomach, you place your hand into your stomach ripping out one of your large intestine.

By eating one of intestine you instantly get all of your powers, the stab wounds in your stomach heals and disappears.

“tHATS cORRECT yoU dID sTab mE oVer 100 tIMES, bUT yOU fAil tO rEaliSE...”

“What are you?” She said in a hushed tone cutting you off.

The Honored One. 

“Divergence.” You said raising your hands snapping them with a sinister simile plastered on your face.

Instantly your mother’s limbs, organs, flesh, blood covers everything in the house, painting your face with a dark crimson red flesh mixed in with it. You turn your head darting to the beating heart in the middle of room picking it up you crush her heart.

“...only my displeasure and pleasure exist. No matter how many times you think you’ve stabbed me, no matter how much you want me dead, only my feelings thoughts, and actions exist.”

The Control Devil has awaken! 

The Control Devil has murdered their whole village in a span of 24 hours!

The Control Devil has murdered 1300 people!

Eren’s POV: 2 hours after The Control Devil Awakening, 5 Hours until the Rumbling.

Ah so it’s finally happening.

2000 years.

Oh how I have yearned to meet you Control Devil.

“Master!” I hear Mikasa voice dragging me out of my thoughts. 

“What is it Minnie?”

“You need to stay inside HQ, the Control Devil has awakened!” Mikasa says panic lacing her voice but cracks with nervousness.

“Yes I know Minnie. I’m glad you’re here with me.” I say but the eagerness to meet the Control Devil is getting the better of me.

Mikasa face starts to dust with red pure innocence laced with it. But the throbbing in her panties is covered in pure lust.

Ah. There it is. 

“Minnie why don’t we dance to your favorite song?”

Mikasa’s face brightens up “Stay with Me by Miki please!”

“Of course” I say getting up to the phonograph.

Stay with Me by Miki Mastubara is now playing.

I cry at your door midnight, but you never came back. 

“Master?”

“Yes Minnie?”

“Where were you that night you arrived in the village?” Mikasa said voice laced with pure sadness.

“I met someone new.”

“O-oh”

I reach to cup Mikasa’s cheek.

She hugs me.

“But don’t worry Minnie you’re the only one I have eyes for.”

You always say the same, but I embrace these moments. 

“Master I enjoy our time together no matter how short they are.”

“As so do I.”

“But I have a idea.”

“Oh?”

“I want you deflower me. No no I want us to deflower each other, us both being virgins and you saying you only have eyes for me so I think, no I know that I want us to do this as promise to each other. That we would be committed to each other for all of eternity.”

The phonograph comes to a screeching stop.

“Minnie I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”

Mikasa suddenly drops to her knees and begins to cry.

“Master please! We’ve know each other since childhood, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! THERE IS NO ONE ELSE FOR ME ITS YOU IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I COULD DIE.”

Eren crouches down to Mikasa and picks up her gently forcing her to look at him.

“Then die.” Eren looks into Mikasa eyes and her head begins to severely ache.

 She beings to scream, her eyes starts to pour out blood, her mouth begins to cough out blood, her ears begin to pool out blood, her nose starts to bleed, but unfortunately for her no one can hear her.

Death Stare.

Her head instantly erupts into nothing but blood and brain matter causing Eren to be covered in blood.

Eren smirks at the mess he’s made.

The phonograph begins to play Stay with Me again.

And those moments are the moments I’ll never forget. 

The door opens to you standing there with a delicate simile with blood on your clothes. 

Eren sits down in his chair.

“Well well, if it isn’t the Control Devil. Pleasure to meet you.”

To be continued?

[haidyn-reeves]

Lie to Me

Summary: The classic truth spell trope with a wicked twist.

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4948 

Warnings: Dean’s an asshole. Angst makes the world go ‘round. Insecurities briefly mentioned. Did I mention Dean’s an asshole? Fluff if you squint.

A/N: I’m back! This is my entry for @jawritter‘s Make Me Cry challenge and @deanwanddamons 2k Celebration! My prompts are in bold. I hope y’all enjoy!

It was no secret that Dean had changed since he took the Mark of Cain. He was more reckless than normal, which only progressed after taking out the entire Stine family for what they did to Charlie and almost did to Y/N. Y/N was in the bunker when the Stines invaded, resorting to hiding in one of the trunks of the classic cars in the garage to stay safe. Once Dean left Castiel bloody and battered in the library, he raced to the garage, having told Y/N not to move until he came for her. When he found her, his features only softened once he saw how terrified she was of him; the amount of blood covering his clothes and hands was enough to turn her stomach. Y/N, as usual, did her best to clean up the older Winchester, using it as a way to distract her from what happened only hours prior. When it was time to say goodbye to Charlie, Y/N separated herself from the brothers, the tension between them so thick you needed a chainsaw to cut through. Dean tossed some heated remarks to Sam and Y/N sank to the muddy ground, furious that this was happening in front of the pyre that held their dear friend. Dean stormed off and Sam came around to help her up, the pair watching the bow-legged hunter climb into his Impala and drive away.

Dean was angry, and the only way he knew how to release that anger was to hunt and kill whatever he could. He scoured the news, desperate to find something he could take down, preferably alone. He couldn’t look at Sam, blaming his brother for the death of his surrogate sister. He didn’t want to bring Y/N with him, he just wanted to drive, hunt, and kill.

Dean found a case, one that would hopefully settle the Mark’s need for blood and his own anger. The fact that it was a witch was an added bonus.

He left in the middle of the night when Sam and Y/N couldn’t try to stop him or tag along. He felt a little bad leaving Y/N behind but the Mark stung too badly for him to care at the moment. He wouldn’t be gone long, the case was only two states over, he’d back soon enough. 

In the bunker, Y/N was pissed that Dean was ignoring her calls. Sam expected it, he knew how angry Dean was, so he expected for his brother to ignore him, but Y/N? He adored her, for Dean to ignore her was unlike him. Y/N was confused, she wasn’t part of the plot to save Dean, Sam explicitly kept her out of the loop because he knew asking her to sneak behind Dean’s back was out of the question. She was loyal to the older Winchester, to a fault, and asking her to go against his wishes was more than even Sam could muster. 

Ever since the Stines invaded and killed Charlie, Y/N was thinking about her feelings for Dean. She called him immediately when they broke the door down and he’s the one who instructed her to hide in the garage; it was a plan the two agreed on for these situations. While she was hiding in the trunk of one of the vintage vehicles, all she could think about was that she could die and never be able to tell Dean how she felt. She decided then that she’d tell him, and soon. That’s why she was so upset that he left without telling her, it just prolonged her getting everything out in the open.

While the two waited in the bunker for Dean’s return, Dean handled the witch with ease. She tried at the last minute to hit him with what he assumed was a spell of sorts, but the witch killing bullet was in her before she could finish the incantation. He felt better, the Mark’s hunger was satiated, and there was one less witch causing trouble. A win all around, in his book.

Y/N was sitting in the library researching when the bunker door opened three days later. She was trying to keep the hurt and the anger at bay, still upset that Dean was ignoring her for reasons she couldn’t figure out while she was ready to tell him how she felt. Sam was out grabbing dinner, she assumed it was him.

“That was fast,” she remarked, getting up to help him unpack, until she was face to face with Dean. “Oh, not Sam. Welcome home.” She moved to greet him with a hug, only for him to step back out of her reach. Her face fell, Dean never rejected her touch, even with the Mark. “Dean?”

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, “I hate it when you throw yourself at me like that.”

“You…what? Since when?”

“Since forever. Just shows how clingy you are.”

Y/N stared in shock before letting her eyes cast to the floor, the heat in her cheeks so warm coupled with his venomous glare that she was growing physically uncomfortable before him. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t realize…I thought we…I thought you and I…“

“What? You thought there was something here?” Dean motioned between the two of them. “Far from it.” He looked her over, his eyes running over her figure. “You think I’d ever want you?”

“I…I thought m-maybe…”

“Well I don’t. I don’t even want you here.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered, knowing if she was really that unwelcome, he’d have no problem kicking her out.

“True? You want the truth? Oh, sweetheart, you can’t handle the truth. But I’ll give it to you. Don’t you think if I wanted you, I’d have done something by now? You’re just another burden that was dumped on me that I didn’t ask for.” He paused, circling the war table, Y/N visibly shaking before him as she tried to keep herself composed, though it was obvious she was already broken at his words. “You’re always in the way, you know? You’re one more person I have to protect on hunts, since you’re not exactly reliable these days. Maybe if you were in shape you’d be less of a liability, then I wouldn’t have to constantly be saving your sorry ass-“

“Dean!” Sam barked, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Y/N hadn’t even heard him come in, the blood was pounding in her ears as she fought back tears, refusing to cry in front of Dean for fear he’d throw that in her face, too. He already implied she was fat, using her biggest insecurity against her, she didn’t need him throwing another one her way.

“What? I’m just saying,” Dean shrugged.

“You don’t just say that,” Sam glared before shooting a knowing look to Y/N, nodding his head towards the kitchen. She took the hint and all but ran out of the room. “What the hell could she have said to make you say that to her? She didn’t do anything to you.”

“She’s just annoying, another mouth to feed, a cockblock at the bar. We don’t need her here bringing us down. I wish she’d just leave.”

“Do you even hear yourself? That’s Y/N. She’s done more for us than anyone else has. She takes care of us when we’re sick and hurt, she puts up with our shit, specifically all of your shit and you…what the fuck Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes, picking up his bags and turning to leave the room. Sam watched in disbelief before joining Y/N in the kitchen finding her with her head in her hands at the table. “Hey, hey, shhhh,” he whispered, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his arms. She sobbed harshly into his flannel. 

“He h-hates me,” she cried, the words muffled against his shirt. Sam shook his head, furious with his brother.

“He doesn’t, he couldn’t.” He rubbed her back soothingly, gently rocking her from side to side. “That wasn’t my brother.”

“I…I d-don’t understand,” she whimpered, sniffling.

“What exactly happened? Can you tell me?”

Y/N sat up slightly, wiping the tears off her cheeks and taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I thought he was you, I said hello, went to hug him. He backed up and when I tried to see what was wrong, he just started in on me.” She looked down. “I was finally ready to tell him, Sam.”

His eyes widened, knowing exactly what she meant. “Oh fuck no,” he muttered, pulling her back into his embrace. “Something must’ve happened while he was gone…but even then he had no right to talk to you like that. For everything that he’s been through, even with the Mark, he’d never, ever, talk to you like that. If it was anyone else, they’d be dead. If he could’ve heard himself…“ Sam stopped, shaking his head in anger. “Something’s not right.”

“Am…am I clingy, Sam?” Y/N asked quietly, Dean’s words echoing in her head.

“God, no, Y/N. You’re not. A few hugs and cuddles here and there doesn’t make you clingy.” Sam smiled sadly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You are one of the best things to happen to Dean and me. You look after us, keep this place running, you help with hunts and research. You’re incredibly important to us and you’re a part of this little family, regardless of what my brother said. I love you, he loves you…hell, the real him adores you. You’re the little sister I always wanted, I always want you around. You’re not a cockblock or another mouth to feed and you certainly don’t bring us down. You build us up and help us keep going, every day. And before you say anything, no, there is nothing physically wrong with you, so please don’t get back into that headspace. You’re doing so well, don’t let this bring you back into that dark place. I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N smiled weakly, eyes brimming over with tears at Sam’s reassurance. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. “How about you go take a bath and relax a bit while I try to figure out what’s going on, okay?”

She nodded and he squeezed her in another hug before letting her go, watching her leave the kitchen and make her way towards her room, which was unfortunately next to Dean’s. Y/N tiptoed passed his room, terrified of doing anything to set him off on her again. Once in the safety of her bedroom, she gathered her comfiest pajamas, slippers, and her favorite bath soap to bring to the bathroom. She set those items aside, rummaging for her duffle. She didn’t like being so close to Dean after what happened, so she decided to throw her necessities and some clothes into the bag, topping it with her favorite pillow and blanket. She knew the bedroom next to Sam’s was empty, for now she’d make that her room until she felt comfortable being around the older hunter again.

On the way to the bathroom, Y/N dropped her bag, blanket and pillow into the spare room, closing the door behind her before heading into the private, smaller bathroom in the bunker. She turned the water on in the tub, adjusting the temperature before plugging the drain and adding her bath soap before shedding her clothes and sinking into the water below the bubbles.

Down the hall and a few twists and turns away, Sam was making his way to Dean’s room, having already sent a quick prayer to Castiel in hopes he could help him figure out what was wrong with his brother. 

“Sam,” Castiel greeted with a flutter of his wings, “what’s going on?”

Sam sighed heavily. “Something’s wrong with Dean, I don’t know what but the way he just lashed out at Y/N tells me it’s bad.” They stopped outside Dean’s door, Sam knocking hard three times before opening the door, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

“Get out,” Dean growled, ripping his headphones off his ears. 

“Not until you tell me what happened when you were gone to make you come back a grade A douchebag,” Sam shot back.

“Nothing happened, now get out.”

“Dean, you’re not yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Dean glared, his eyes on Castiel. 

“The Dean I know never would’ve said what he did to Y/N, so that’s bullshit,” Sam argued.

“She had it coming,” he shrugged. Sam’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared with anger. “Oh, calm down.”

“You know what Dean? Maybe you should leave for a while,” Sam started, advancing towards Dean, “sort your shit out.”

Dean rose from his bed, glowering at his little brother. “You’re really gonna kick me out? For her?”

Before Sam could respond, Castiel took the opportunity to move around Sam, placing his fingers to Dean’s forehead to see if he could use his grace to identify the problem. “He’s under a spell.”

“A spell? What kind of spell?” Sam asked, looking between the angel and the thoroughly pissed off hunter.

“I’m not sure, but it’s there, clinging to him.” Castiel pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead again to try and ease him a bit to get him to cooperate better. Dean sat back down on his bed, a little more relaxed.

“Dean, you have to tell me what happened when you were gone,” Sam pleaded.

“I was on a hunt, it was a witch.”

“Do you remember anything that she said?”

“She was chanting something but I killed her before she could finish.”

“Or maybe you didn’t,” Sam sighed. “I’ll call Rowena, see if she can maybe give use insight as to what kind of spell the witch used.” He pulled out his phone before looking at his brother again. “You stay the hell away from Y/N, got it? You’ve done enough damage.”

“I’ll watch him,” Castiel offered, Sam nodding in agreement before shooting his brother one last look and heading to the library, dialing Rowena’s number.

“Samuel,” she answered.

“Rowena, I need your help.”

“You seem to be needing a lot of that lately, Samuel. And yet you’ve done nothing for me in return.”

“I’m working on it,” he responded curtly, “the quicker you get to the bunker, the faster I finish the deal. It’s about Y/N.”

The witch sighed, having developed a soft spot for the girl. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there soon.”

After her bath, Sam informed Y/N that Rowena was coming and that there was some sort of spell involved. Y/N cringed at his brother’s name, her body tensing. Sam explained that he knew the spell wasn’t an excuse for what Dean said to her, but it helped piece a few things together. Y/N just wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at the hunter the same way again.

Until Rowena arrived, Y/N stayed in her new bedroom, locked away from everyone but Sam. He brought her meals, knowing she wasn’t up to wandering the bunker halls and risking the chance of running into Dean. As strong as he knew she was, even he didn’t think she’d be able to handle another run-in with the older hunter. 

Two days later, Rowena made her way down the steps of the bunker. Sam did his best to fill her in on what little information he got from Dean, which was a terrible pronunciation of whatever the young witch chanted at him, plus the crap attitude he’d been exhibiting ever since, including what he said to Y/N.

“But here’s the thing, I know my brother and I know how he feels about her, and it’s…it’s like everything he said to her is the exact opposite of what he’s ever said to me about her. He’s said some pretty fucked up things in his life, even to me, but to her? He’d never. It doesn’t make sense, he said the witch didn’t even finish the spell.”

“Perhaps your brother changed his mind.”

“Rowena, no. Cas was able to detect the remnants of a spell that seems to be stuck to him. That’s why I need your help, I don’t know what spell it could be.”

“Your brother, he possesses the Mark of Cain, correct?” Sam nodded. “Then whatever spell she cast…the Mark in a way protects the person who bears it. The person can’t die, as you know. In this case, it sounds like the Mark warped the spell that was thrown at Dean and it’s now sticking to him instead of wearing off like it normally would after a few days.”

“But what kind of spell? A truth spell wouldn’t make him say all that…”

“No, but the Mark could twist a truth spell into making him lie, instead. Do you know anything about the witch?”

“She was casting truth spells and tearing couples apart around town,” Dean answered, making his presence known as he entered the war room. “She was angry that her husband had an affair and she took it out on everyone else.”

Sam groaned. “So that’s it. It was a truth spell but the Mark made you lie instead of actually tell the truth.”

Rowena rolled her eyes, “and turned you into quite the dick.” Dean shot a glare at the red-head, ready to bark a nasty reply when Sam stepped between the two.

“You don’t speak unless we ask you to,” he ordered, staring down his brother. Dean’s eyes widened before he cocked a brow, smirking.

“You don’t think there’s more I could say to you this time?”

“I don’t care what you say to me, I know it isn’t you. But Y/N? She’s off limits.”

“Too late for that-“

“ENOUGH,” Rowena yelled, both hunters jumping in surprise, “now, Samuel, you can fetch me these ingredients and Dean, well, you can sit down and keep your mouth shut.”

As Sam went to the storage room to gather the ingredients needed for the spell to reverse the one stuck to Dean, Rowena followed him to Y/N’s makeshift room, knocking on the door. 

“Go away,” Y/N answered pitifully.

“Someone’s here to see you, honey,” Sam answered, “its safe, I promise.” He unlocked her door and left her and Rowena alone while he went to find her supplies. Y/N sat up on her bed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the witch.

“Hi,” she smiled weakly, moving over on her bed to make room for the witch.

“Oh darlin’, Auntie Rowena will fix it,” she soothed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “You see, Dean was hit with a truth spell, but because he bears the Mark, the spell backfired and made him lie instead. Sam’s fetching me the ingredients I need for a reversal to get rid of the spell that’s clinging to him because of the Mark.”

“So…all the things he said…”

“I’m guessing whatever he wanted to say, he said the opposite. Apparently the witch was cheated on by her husband and due to her anger she took it out on everyone, especially men, and cursed them to tell the truth. But in Dean’s case, he was cursed to lie.”

“And be a douche,” Y/N muttered. “He said some awful things, Ro.”

“The man’s not exactly kind on a good day if you’re on his bad side,” Rowena noted. “I’ll fix him. He���s going to remember everything and run in here and apologize, you’ll see.”

“I’m not sure I can look at him, I mean, he was so cold…so brutal. If I look at him that’s all I’ll see.”

“I think once he realizes what he said and how badly he hurt you, you’ll see a side of him you’ve never seen before. Dean’s very protective of you, we all know it, so once he realizes he’s the one who hurt you, he’s gonna be devastated. You just have to remember, it wasn’t him.”

Y/N nodded, though still apprehensive. Rowena smiled warmly, patting her legs before leaving the room to see if Sam found everything. Y/N curled back up under the covers, thinking about what Rowena said. Knowing that a spell made him say those things made her feel the smallest bit better, but it was still replaying in her head since it happened. She could still see Dean’s look of disgust and hear the hatred dripping off his tongue. The idea of facing him, even after he was cured of this spell, still terrified her.

In the library, Dean was sitting at one of the tables nursing his whiskey while Rowena and Sam worked on the spell. Cas was on standby, ready to intervene if Dean got out of hand somehow and also to see if the lingering spell faded. 

Minutes later, Rowena was chanting the incantation for the reversal, Sam and Cas on either side of Dean as a precaution. A beat passed before Dean’s stoic expression faded and his eyes glowed green. Rowena sighed with relief and Cas pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, nodding. The spell worked, Dean was back to normal.

And oh, what a crash it was.

Dean blinked a few times, looking around at their worried faces as he registered what had happened. When he realized who was missing in the room, his eyes widened as it all came flooding back like a movie scene in his head. 

“Where is she?” He choked, a wave of panic washing over him as he realized the magnitude of what he said to her.

“You remember?” Dean looked at Sam, shame and regret on his face.

“Everything.”

“She’s in the room next to mine, just go easy on her, Dean. You really did a number on her.” Dean nodded, hastily leaving the library and racing down the bunker halls until he got to the room Y/N was in. He took a deep breath before knocking softly.

“Come in,” she called, voice quiet. Dean turned the knob slowly, opening the door to find her curled up on the bed. The blatant fear on her face didn’t go unnoticed by Dean, the grimace leaving a sharp pain in his chest.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “we need to talk.”

“I think you’ve said enough,” she answered, less bite in her reply than she would have liked.

“That…that wasn’t me, you know I’d never-“

“I thought I did, Dean. But that…even with a spell…,” She looked away from him, shaking her head. Dean’s face fell, eyes filling with tears. He really fucked up and it wasn’t even his fault this time.

“Y/N, I swear on Sam’s life, I didn’t mean a single word that I said to you that night. That wasn’t me talking, that was the spell. It’s like everything I wanted to say to you came out the complete opposite, the Mark completely took over and I’m so fucking sorry.” Dean paused, slowly making his way to her bed. When she didn’t object, he sat down by her feet.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me,” he begged. Y/N looked up from the spot she was fixated on on the floor, her eyes meeting his teary ones. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, you are perfect exactly the way you are. I wouldn’t be able to go on day after day without you supporting me. You aren’t a burden and I never want you to leave even though I think you deserve better than this life. Selfishly, I can’t let you go. You make this place feel like a home and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re not clingy…you mean so much to me, Y/N. I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how much I hate that I’ve hurt you. I’m supposed to protect you and you’re…you’re scared of me.”

“You looked at me with such hate,” she whispered, cringing. “I can’t unsee it no matter how hard I try.”

“Sweetheart, I could never hate you,” Dean breathed, “not when I’m too busy loving you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You…what?”

“When I got back that night you said you thought there was something between us and I told you there wasn’t because of the spell’s influence. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve agreed with you. There’s always been a different connection between you and I. I don’t see you as a little sister the way Sam does. I know what I said, but Y/N, how could I not want you?”

Y/N blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “Uh, well, for starters, look at me.”

“I’m always looking at you. I think you’re beautiful exactly the way you are. You take care of me, you put up with my shit, and you’re my best friend. I can’t see myself with anyone else.”

“Dean…I-“

“You don’t have to say it back. I put you through hell, I don’t expect you to feel that way about me anymore.”

“No, I do, and that’s been the hardest part.”

Dean smiled sadly, reaching out to cup her cheek. “If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life, however long that is, proving to you that I mean everything I just said.”

“It wasn’t you,” she whispered, “you don’t have to.”

“But I’ll do it if it means you’ll forgive me.” He wiped a few stray tears off her cheek, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. “Can I hold you?” He asked meekly, biting his lip. She nodded into his palm before getting scooped up in a hug, her face buried in his neck as Dean finally broke, tears landing in her hair. “I’m so sorry,” he cried, squeezing her to him.

“Dean,” she mumbled, her lips against his skin sending shivers down his spine. “Please don’t cry.” She rubbed his back softly, trying to soothe him. She didn’t expect this. 

“I hate this thing so much,” he muttered, her eyes casting down to his forearm where the Mark was hidden by his henley sleeve. “All it does is make me angry and it’s getting harder and harder to control it, especially after…”

“I know,” she nodded, knowing he meant Charlie and the Stines. “That whole thing…that’s what made me want to tell you how I felt about you. Waiting for you in the trunk of the car felt like an eternity and I knew I would be okay as long as you got to me. I always feel safe when I’m with you, Dean, always. But I was so scared that they’d find me first and I’d die before getting to tell you. You were so angry and it felt wrong to tell you right after we lost Charlie, but I gathered the little confidence I had while you were gone-“

“And then I came home under a spell and said what I said.” Dean sighed, his grip tightening on her. “When you called me and told me the Stines broke in, Y/N, I’ve been in awful situations like that before with Sam but this…this felt so different. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, not until I saw you and knew you were okay. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion, no matter how fast I drove.” Y/N shuddered at the memory, digging herself deeper into Dean’s chest, face pressed against his neck. She inhaled deeply, relaxing as his scent that can only be described as Dean calmed her senses. “You’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispered, kissing her hair. He laid them down on her bed, tucking her under his chin.

“Dean,” she whispered, fisting his henley. 

“Yeah baby?”

“I do love you, you know.” She could feel the chuckle rumble through his chest.

“I maybe had a small feeling, or at least hoped I was reading everything right.” He ran his fingers through her hair gently, breathing in her shampoo. “Will you give me a chance to make it all up to you?”

She pulled back to look up at him, cupping his cheek. He nuzzled against her palm, eyes locked on hers as his stubble tickled her skin. “Of course, handsome.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to her palm as she blushed. She couldn’t stay mad at Dean, never was able to. But knowing how he truly felt about her, that everything that happened was the work of a witch, she knew she couldn’t hold a grudge. That wasn’t her Dean, the man who sang her back to sleep when her nightmares took over even though he hated singing to anyone but Baby’s steering wheel. The man looking at her so intently, holding her so tightly, this was her Dean. “And Dean?” 

“Sweetheart?”

“I forgive you,” she smiled, Dean’s eyes softening as he let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling her impossibly closer. He kissed her forehead and her nose before softly kissing her lips, pulling back and brushing his nose against hers. Dean knew what happened wasn’t his fault, and Y/N may have forgiven him anyway, but he fully intended on spending the rest of his life, however long it may be, making sure she knew just how much he loved her, and doing his very best to deserve someone as incredible as her.

[murderslugs]

Slasher Bf/Gf Scenarios/Imagines! || Meeting Them

Jason Voorhees (Friday The 13th)

You were out with friends, and it was getting awfully late. But still, there you were, with a flashlight and a backpack with a first-aid kit, some snacks, and water in it, just in case, walking through the abandoned camping trail with your friends. You guys had grown up in a town not too far away from the little old camp, and you’d heard all the stories that surrounded the place. For years you had just dismissed it, you all had passed it off as a local legend or rumor, but still there was a little spark of curiosity. Of course, this is what led you to where you reside now, exploring the camp in search of something peculiar, maybe a story to tell.

“Maybe we should go home...It’s late and I’m not feeling well..” your friend, Ruby, said wearily. It was true, you could see the illness in her dark, drooping eyelids. “Oh, bullshit! You’re fine, just drink some water and go throw up on a tree or something!” another friend yelled out. You just rolled your eyes. “Shut up! She doesn’t look too good, Otis! I think I should bring her back to the car to sit down.” You said with concern. To the dismay and groaning of the group, they let you and Ruby on your way back down the trail and to the car while they continued down the path. 

As you made your way to the car, Ruby fell close behind in your steps. Your flashlight flickered continually, and then suddenly gave out; leaving you two in the dark, and the pale moon barely illuminating through the trees above you. “Shit,” you muttered to yourself, hitting the battery pack to the light repeatedly. “Stop, quiet,” Ruby whisper-shouted. That’s when you heard the rustling of the branches getting closer. Closer. Closer. “Maybe we shou…” You turn around, to see Ruby gone. 

“Ruby? Ruby?!” You shouted out, to no response. You turned frantically, searching for any sign of her presence. A large man in a ski mask and an old, ruined jacket stood before you, silent. Before you could turn to run or get around him, you felt a sudden pressure on the side of your head, and then you saw black.

Michael Myers (Halloween)

It was Halloween night, and you were home from college for fall break. Your mom insisted that you took your younger sister trick-or-treating, even though you refuted that she was 12 years old, and could handle herself. So, you just took her block to block instead and sat on the corner of the street for her to walk down to the other end and get to all the houses. It was a small town, so there were never really concerns about kidnapping and such. It was just never a problem, you guess. 

“Go, Riley. You’re a big kid, you can go down the street.” You groaned, tired of her constant whining. “But (y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn), It’s dark down there!! There’s not a street light at the end!!” she whined insistently. You sighed heavily and pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Here. You can use the flashlight on my phone, just don’t snoop through my info.” You told her, handing over the old smartphone, and pulling a pumpkin-shaped sucker from her trick-or-treat bag. “You owe me this.” 

You unwrapped the cheap candy and popped it into your mouth, leaning on the house fence as your sister skipped down the sidewalk. The leaves rustled in the trees, and suddenly you heard footsteps behind you, and whipped around to see who it was. It was on the quieter side of town, and it was getting late. This meant that there shouldn’t be many people out, so there shouldn’t be someone behind you. But still, you came face-to-chest with a tall man in a dark blue jump-suit type outfit, and a white mask. You panicked, and thought quickly about how to fight back. Unfortunately, he seemed to be faster than you, and your mouth was covered as you were picked up and carried off into the darkness, legs kicking uselessly. 

Carrie White (Carrie)

You were at the library when you saw a pale girl browsing through the young adult fantasy section. You observed her actions, as she readjusted her dress and collar. She carefully picked a book from the shelf and flipped it to the back to read the description. You saw a flash of the cover, and realized it was one of your favorite series, Chronicles of Narnia. You hesitated but stepped forward in a bit of excitement.

“That’s a good one, I, um, really recommend checking it out.” You told her with a smile, and she looked up, seemingly a bit taken aback. You realized this, and took a step back to give her space. “Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you...I’m (y/n).” You stuck out your hand, and she just looked down at it, book in hand. “Carrie...Sorry, mama never liked me talking to strangers…” “No, no, it’s okay, I underst-” “No, it’s okay...She’s been gone a while now.” She looked down. 

You stood awkwardly, feeling a bit bad now. “You seem kind enough. I’ve got to go, but we can talk again another time. I come here every Sunday, around noon.” Carrie said quietly, smiling softly and turning, taking Narnia with her. You sat to yourself, a bit confused about the interaction. You shook your head and carried on. “Next Sunday it is,” You thought to yourself.

Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body)

There was a new girl at school, as you had heard. How could you not have when everyone was talking about it? She had moved here recently after some sort of tragedy occured, or so you’d heard. It was rumored that she had to have surgery cause someone tried to kill her, she was all stabbed up and shit and nearly bled out. You can’t imagine how awful that would be, and you kept thinking about how she probably came here for a new start, and wouldn’t want people asking about it, but you knew it would happen anyways.

It was 3rd period, Anatomy, when a girl you’d never seen before walked into the classroom. This, of course, must have been the new girl. She was absolutely glowing, even from afar. Her hair was voluminous, rich, and dark, her skin was clear and shiny, her eyes were sharp and bright. It took your breath away trying to take in the sight. The girl’s heels clicked as she trailed to the back of the classroom, to where you were. She sat beside you, at the lab table. 

You tried not to look at her, after all, you didn’t want to seem weird. You looked at the floor and over to her shoes. A few drips of a thick, crimson substance were on the floor beneath her, seemingly originating from her shoe. You wondered for a moment if she was hurt. Or, could she have hurt someone else..? It scared you a bit to think about the second option. God knows this school didn’t need another bully, or anything worse than it.

You were tranced, stuck in your own looming dark thoughts, when a velvet voice came to your ears. You snapped your glance up from the floor, to see the girl looking at you, specifically. To your dismay, blood rushed to your face out of embarrassment. “I’m Jennifer. Do you have a pen I can use?”

Billy Loomis (Scream)

You were in your brand new house, you had moved out and into the next town over from your parents. You wanted to be further away, but you knew that your mom would be upset, she was always so protective. She even said that she expected you to come visit her on the weekends. The relationship was a bit exhausting sometimes. But now, you were in your own house, and it was great. You could decorate it however you wanted, you could have whoever you wanted over, you could do basically whatever.

Though, for now, you decided to just make some off-brand pizza rolls and blare some music, maybe even dance around a little bit. Season Of The Witch by Donovan was playing on your stereo when suddenly your phone rang. You paused the music, and quickly answered. Normally, you would check the caller ID, but you were in a good mood and it completely slipped your mind. I mean, who cares if it's a scam caller? You can just hang up. To your surprise, it wasn’t a familiar voice, but didn’t seem to be a scam-caller. Maybe a wrong number? 

“Do you like scary movies?” The other line said. You were suspicious, and for a second you considered that maybe it was a survey. It didn’t seem to be a harmful question, so you replied, “Yeah, duh. If you don't, you're pretty lame.” You turned the music back on, but turned the volume down. He asked a few follow-up questions, and you gave your honest answers. You just strolled around the kitchen, occasionally checking the timer on your food so that it doesn’t burn. 

You had your phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder, and you had on oven mitts as you grabbed your pizza rolls from the oven. “What’s your name?” The caller suddenly asked. You paused for a second as you put the cooking sheet on the counter. “Why do you wanna know..” You asked cautiously. “Well, I wanna know the name of the cutie I’m looking at.” He said, and your heart damn near stopped. “Excuse me..?” You hung up and quickly ran to the doors, double-checking the locks and locking the windows and shutting the curtains. You grabbed a knife from the silverware drawer and locked yourself in your room, where you eventually fell asleep in the dark silence.

Thomas Hewitt (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

You had just moved out to the country-side to start anew, planning to start a small farm and just live in peace on the quiet little land. Little did you know, you had neighbors across the field that weren’t exactly the type of neighbors that you could ask for a cup of sugar. You were hanging the new drapes for the windows after having taken the old ones down. They were old, dirty, ragged. Honestly, the old farmhouse was sort of let to rot for a while, and you knew it. It was cheap though, and you were up to the challenge. You decided that you would decorate it, clean it up, and make it like brand new, even with the little money that you had. 

As you were hanging the drapes, you kept looking out into the distance of the rolling fields outside the window, littered with patches of wild flowers in the grass. You fantasized about making gardens, maybe even building a little stable for a horse or two. It was a lovely thought; there was a small village a little while away from the farm that you could ride a horse to if you wanted. 

Though, some distance away in the field, you saw the figure of what looked to be a man wandering in the field. You weren’t too worried, as you had all the locks in place, it was the middle of the day, and he looked peaceful. So, you just forgot about it and went on fixing up your house, unpacking, and getting the rest of the things in place. Although you had been there about a week, you still understandably weren’t completely unpacked. 

A few hours later, you were doing a bit of drawing on the couch and taking some time to relax. That’s when you heard a thud on your door. Just a single thud, that’s all. Still, you had reason to be concerned, as you were sort of in the middle of the country and it was starting to set into the evening. You quietly walked to your bedroom and grabbed a shotgun from the closet that you kept for protection, a tradition in your family. You carried it with you as you checked the door. You looked through the thin peephole, but saw nothing. You opened the door to find a paper stuck to the door by a rusty hatchet, buried deep into the oak. Your heart rate spiked as you tore the note from the door and read it. “Welcome to the neighborhood, pretty person” was spelled in crude handwriting.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Four

“Dang it!” I bellow eight days later, as my body gives way and topples over, having used too great of force to yank a now dead primrose from the ground.

Yesterday morning I had come outside to discover the yellow evening primroses, the flowers Peeta had planted upon his arrival back in Twelve, had all but died.

And I didn’t even notice. I’ve been so distracted with everything else going on in my life—namely Peeta and his blonde companion—that I entirely forgot about the flowers. The flowers that my sister was named for. The flowers meant to represent her when she was no longer alive to represent herself.

The idea that I could forget the plant, that I let myself lag on the simple duty of keeping them alive and watered and healthy, felt as if I had let my little sister down all over again. It felt as if I’d failed Prim a second time.

And it’s more than I can handle. I can’t even endure the thought. The very implication that I am, in any way, dishonoring my sister’s memory is entirely unbearable. Even if it is just me implying it, inside my head.

But in any case, it looks like the primroses are too far gone and I don’t have even a chance at resurrecting them back to life. I took too long to notice their wilting, I was too caught up in other things, that I let the plants die and now there’s no going back.

For a split second I consider returning one of my mother’s many calls to ask for gardening advice. She has always had a green thumb and been able to grow whatever she set her mind to. I never had any of those skills. I was a hunter by nature, not a nurturer.

No, that was Prim. The soft and gentle one, who loved animals, who could heal any wound she could identify, who could garden and grow herbs just as well as our mother.

And I miss her so much. I miss my little sister so very much that I almost breakdown into tears right then and there, right in front of the dead primrose bush outside my house.

“Katniss?” I hear someone call in the distance. I recognize the voice instantly.

And rapidly get up and make a beeline towards my front door.

Unfortunately he’s determined to catch me. After eight solid days of evasion, Peeta is dead set on catching me at any given opportunity before him.

It’s almost funny how once upon a time it was him who wished to avoid me. It was him who craved distance between us, who acted icy and detached at every encounter, whether forced or by chance.

Now it’s him trying to force an encounter between us, trying desperately to make up for hurting me, trying to still be a part of my life, even after I pronounced our relationship finished.

The bread he left on my doorstep—that I immediately tossed in the garbage—is proof of that. The cheesebuns he left on my counter who met their demise to a flock of birds on my back porch is proof of that. The cookies he baked and passed through Greasy Sae when I went to trade at the new, rebuilt Hob is glaring proof of his efforts.

I did actually eat those but I made sure to do it in private, where Peeta would never know if his token was accepted or not.

Because I don’t want him to think we’re okay. I don’t want Peeta to believe me and him can still be friends, with Bailey Robyn, the uptight, controlling blonde still lingering over his every move.

Okay, maybe I’m being a bit overdramatic. Bailey isn’t residing over Peeta’s every action. She probably doesn’t even know he’s made all these treats for me. And she surely wasn’t sitting by his side in the corner of Greasy Sae’s booth when our eyes briefly met before I stubbornly stormed out.

But I feel like she is. I feel her presence overcast in every one of Peeta’s actions, in every deed he partakes in, in every moment I run into him. Maybe it’s only inside my head but it’s enough reason for me to avoid Peeta. It’s enough reason that I wish to stand by my words eight days ago and cut him directly out of my life. With a chainsaw if necessary, I wish to cut the invisible cord that has tied me and him together for so long now.

“Katniss!” Peeta calls again, his arms grasping my waist just in time to prevent my escape into the house.

“Go away,” I mutter under my breath, ire and ache still seeping off me even after a week separating this moment here with our last interaction.

“Why are you upset?” He asks, a little breathless now from the race to my front door. But even tired, concern still manages to leak into his tone. His blue eyes still show anxiety for my well-being.

And it’s still not enough to thaw me.

“You know why,” I say rigidly, pulling my front door open and shoving his hands away from me.

“No, no, I mean,” he quickly tries to correct his question. “I meant, what’s happened out here that has you upset?”

I audibly huff, my eyes about as warm as a popsicle in a snowstorm. The last thing I want to do is stand here and recount just about anything to Peeta, especially in regards to the way I’m currently feeling.

Especially after the last time we spoke about our feelings, when I chose to let him in and allowed him to see the vulnerable parts of me that I never trust anyone with.

Only for him to turn around and side with Bailey over me.

But knowing how persistent Peeta can be when properly determined—his intensity to train like a Career, Brutus’ murder and him warning District Thirteen about Snow’s incoming attack all fly to the top of that list—I merely gesture widely to my backyard, where the dead flowers lie.

It only takes Peeta a moment to click it all together, to his credit. Though I’m hesitant to even offer him that right now.

“I’ll replant them,” he instantly offers, like a dog begging to fetch his owner a carcass bone.

“Don’t bother,” I say, about as rude and uninviting as humanly possible. “It’s not your responsibility.”

I’m just stepping into the house when Peeta’s hand shoves on the door, hard enough to keep it open. For a split second, I contemplate putting all my strength behind it and slamming his fingers in the door. But even as mad as I am—even as wounded as I am—I won’t physically harm Peeta.

After all, he already lost his leg once about I tied it in a tourniquet. I may have saved his life but I also cost him half a limb and that thought alone stops me from nearly taking his fingers off too.

“Katniss, I want to,” he pleads and his eyes are so big and blue and I feel my heart involuntarily melt a bit upon at the sight. “I want to replant them.”

I release an unconscious breath, for the first time in over a week not completely hostile towards the boy with the bread, who in my eyes, completely turned his back on me. Or so it feels. “I’ll just end up killing them again, Peeta. I’m serious. Don’t even bother.”

“Then I’ll tend to them,” Peeta throws out, getting more and more desperate the more I refuse, it seems.

I’m about to brush off his offer once again when another voice joins us. “Oh, let him do it, sweetheart. The boy needs a hobby besides baking,” Haymitch chimes in, standing at the bottom of my porch, looking drunk as ever.

“You love that baking is his only hobby,” I shoot back at the paunchy, old man.

“Well, not anymore. Since you two started fighting he’s been making me fat. I need a break.”

I’m about to come back with another comment, probably one to suggest Haymitch doesn’t have to eat everything Peeta brings, when we’re joined by a third presence.

Of course, she has to join us. Bailey can’t seem to let Peeta go anywhere without her nowadays.

“What’s going on?” She murmurs, looking around at all our tense body language. Well, at mine and Peeta’s tense body language. Haymitch is currently sitting on the bottom step of my porch now, as relaxed as Buttercup is in the window.

Peeta opens his mouth to respond but then shuts it again, glancing back at me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he doesn’t wish to discuss his offer to help me with his girlfriend or if it’s the fact that he clearly knows I dislike the notion of Bailey in my business, but either way I’m a little pleased when he closes his mouth and adverts eye contact away from the blonde.

Instead it’s my drunken mentor who elaborates. “The girl’s flowers died. Your boyfriend just wants to replant them.”

To my utter astonishment, Bailey seems amendable to the idea. “The flowers for your sister?” She inquires, looking right at me. I shoot her a quizzical—and perhaps slightly unfriendly—look out of the corner of my eye but she continues on anyway. “Peeta, you should help her plant them again. Especially since you let them die-“

But I’ve heard enough from her—and everyone else here, for that matter—and I turn to Peeta, my hand still holding the doorknob tightly, ready to slam it shut. “Fine,” I cave, my tone anything but grateful. “Go ahead and replant the primroses. If that’s going to help you, then go for it.”

I don’t wait to hear a response from any of the parties now camped out on my property. Instead I shove Peeta’s fingers off my door—first time I’ve touched him in eight days—and throw it shut with such a force I feel the walls in my entryway shake.

“She’s always been a spitfire,” I hear Haymitch mumble as three sets of footsteps make their way further from my porch.

I barely catch Peeta’s response. If I hadn’t been standing by the door, unintentionally listening to hear what they may be saying, I would have missed it altogether.

“That’s the best thing about her.”

/

It’s just mere hours later before I’m disturbed once again. This time not by a crew of three but by one solo intruder.

“Sweetheart?” Haymitch barks, evidently not too keen on the fact that I decided to turn every light in my house off after returning home from the Hob.

“Go away,” I mumble out, knowing well and clear that he can’t hear me from upstairs. I’m in my bedroom, lying in the safety of my own bed, in my own private sanctuary, where I do not wish to be disturbed by anyone at any cost.

Of course, it only takes a few minutes of bumping into things and cursing for Haymitch to track me down. “Girl, it’s six at night?” He says incredulously.

“So?” I snap, as he turns my light on, effectively blinding me.

“Did you just forget about dinner tonight?” He asks, his voice neither kind nor hostile. In all honesty, he just sounds puzzled.

“Why are you in my room, Haymitch?” I murmur, rubbing my eyes until they adjust to the beaming brightness and pulling myself upwards now. Off his dismissive glance, I let out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Of course, we’re not really talking about me skipping a meal. I highly doubt Haymitch truly cares if I miss dinner by my own accord. He surely wasn’t too interested in my meal intake when he brought me home from the Capitol and dropped me off on my doorstep.

No, we’re referring to the weekly dinners me, Peeta and Haymitch have at the old man’s pig sty. The same dinners I’ve brought Delly along to, that Haymitch is constantly passing out drunk during, that Bailey has been crashing nonstop since arriving here in Twelve.

When I came home from trading at the Hob tonight, I decided I was done with those dinners. I don’t need to subject myself to bossy Bailey any longer, and my resolve to keep Peeta out of my life as much as humanly possible is still strong. Despite the fact that I agreed to let him plant the primroses in my garden again and tend to their growth, I still don’t wish for us to be friends. I still don’t want to subject myself any further to him and Bailey’s exhibits.

And I figured no one would mind my absence anyways. At least not for a few dinners. I knew eventually Haymitch would try to push me to come back and Peeta would probably ask me very sweetly to join again, but I didn’t think the first night I skipped would be a huge production.

And okay, maybe there is a small part of me who deep down hopes if I refuse to come, Bailey may be disinvited in order to make me feel welcome again. It’s a long shot and not one I’d consciously admit to counting on, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small, minuscule part of me wishing for that to happen just the same.

Haymitch glances at me suspiciously now. “You’re always hungry, kid.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re the most enthusiastic eater I know.”

Okay, he is blatantly confused apparently. His drunken goggles are blurring his perspective of reality, it would seem.

In any case, I flop backwards on my bed and roll away, hoping if I ignore my mentor long enough he’ll just evaporate into thin air.

But for some reason, Haymitch is weirdly dogged tonight. “Come on,” he urges, shaking my shoulder a bit too roughly. “I know the boy always says you’re just like me, but this little display is over the top, Katniss.”

I roll my eyes. “Why do you even want me at those dinners, Haymitch? You have Peeta and Bailey there.” I can’t stop myself from throwing the extra emphasis on Bailey, as immature as it may be.

However, the old man isn’t interested in dignifying me with a response. “And Delly. And Johanna. And Annie Cresta.”

That catches me completely off-guard. “What?”

In the time since the war ended and I returned to Twelve—or rather, was exiled to Twelve—no one from the other districts have visited. I have barely seen anyone I know in the last few months, outside Haymitch, Peeta and Delly.

“Some of which are anxious to see you at dinner,” he adds, gesturing for me to get up.

I shoot him a mordant glance. “Johanna’s anxious to see me?”

“I said some. Meaning Delly and Annie,” he clarifies. Off my still hesitant expression, he reaches down and tugs on my wrist, trying to get me out of bed.

“Fine!” I exclaim, feeling strangely embarrassed now as I realize that our roles are suddenly being reversed. I’m the one who always forced him out of bed, who made him come to meals, who fought with him to hurry up and get moving.

In the end, I don’t bother cleaning myself up or trying to appear presentable. Johanna and Annie won’t care and Peeta doesn’t get to care anymore.

And it wouldn’t matter anyway. Even if Effie Trinket or my entire prep team were here, I’d never stand a chance of looking anything but plain next to Bailey.

It’s not that I care that she’s so blatantly pretty. It’s just that her looks are one more thing about her presence to be bothered by, and that list is getting long and extensive. Even after her apparent approval of Peeta gardening my primroses, even after no negative interactions in eight days, I still sense hostility with her. And I still can’t stare at her without feeling my stomach churn.

Because every time she’s around, I know I’m about to be the odd one out. For whatever reason, outside of Delly, the people I care for, hold a deep affinity for Bailey Robyn.

And it bothers me above anything I can express. It bothers me beyond words, beyond measure, beyond any sense of feeling.

“Look who I found,” Haymitch announces as we enter through the threshold of his filthy residence.

“Katniss!” Annie exclaims and tosses her arms around my neck, despite the fact that we’ve never been too close. I can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation in person. The only true communication between me and Annie is the letters she sends, the ones filled with details of her life in Four and Finnick’s son. The ones I rarely respond to, but always read just the same.

Still, despite the fact that Annie might as well be a glorified stranger to me, I return the embrace, instinctively at first and then, simply because I want to. Because no one besides Peeta has given me any sort of affection in months and I miss it. Now that Peeta has put conditions on our relationship, I am hungry for any physical touch at all.

It shocks me to realize, in that moment, just how completely starved I am, for closeness.

I hug Annie for far longer than I think anyone watching anticipated but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to welcome it too.

Then again, her husband died and left her with seemingly no family at all to help raise their baby. So perhaps she’s just as desperate for a human touch—I suppose besides her son—as I am.

I don’t receive the same welcome from Johanna, unsurprisingly, but as soon as me and Annie break apart, she shoots me a satirical glance and pulls on a piece of my hair.

“Ow!” I exclaim, my thick brows furrowing in confusion. “What was that for?”

“It was sticking up,” she explains with a shrug and then smirks. “Did you just roll out of bed and come here?”

“Did you?” Her outfit is just denim pants and a low cut t-shirt. Not that different from my attire.

“Yes. And I’m not ashamed of it.” She runs a hand over her hair which has grown out to about length with her shoulders. “But I know how to use a hairbrush, at least.”

I roll my eyes as she nudges me. “This is dinner,” Haymitch deadpans as he makes his way to the table. “Not a Capitol Beauty Contest.”

Jo examines the unwashed table as we follow the grumpy man’s lead. As of right now, the table is completely void of substance. “Doesn’t dinner imply food?” She asks and Annie laughs lightly, suggesting she was thinking along the same lines.

“Haymitch doesn’t believe in cooking himself,” I retort, earning a look from the old man. “He’s waiting for Peeta to arrive with food.”

“You’re more than welcome to provide the meal, sweetheart.”

“And what are you providing?”

“The residence the meal is served at.”

“And what a residence it is!” Exclaims a completely different voice, a higher pitched soprano.

And like clockwork, three blonde heads round the corner of the dining room, abruptly joining the party.

Delly looks as enthusiastic to be walking with Peeta and Bailey as I am to be in their company right now. Which she further evidences by hurrying to the seat at my right.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a grin,” Haymitch remarks as he pulls out a bottle of white liquor and pours it into a half-clean glass.

“Wonder why that is,” I murmur out loud before thinking better of it. After all, Haymitch seems to care for Bailey more than me nowadays. I should probably not stir the pot before the food is even presented before me.

But he doesn’t reply back. Even if he did, I doubt I’d notice anyway.

Because, in the flash of a second, the attention of the room is completely shifted.

I knew Bailey was coming with Peeta. She’s practically glued to his hip at all times of day, almost as if she’s afraid to let him out of her sight. But it would seem that Haymitch did not inform Johanna or Annie about Peeta’s new relationship, effectively catching them both by surprise at the additional dinner guest.

And there’s little room for doubt to anyone with eyes that they’re together. Their hands are practically singed as one, in an airtight grasp, her manicured nails intertwined with his long fingers.

For a split second I wonder if that’s what my hand looked like inside Peeta’s last week. I wonder if this is what Bailey saw before her, when she caught us roaming through town at the crack of dawn.

“Barley?” Johanna says in a shocked voice.

It takes a moment for her comment to compute in my brain. “Bailey,” I correct, trying to be helpful. Though I’m unsure where she even managed to get the name Barley at all. Especially if Haymitch didn’t warn her about the girl Peeta was bringing and I strongly suspect he didn’t.

Jo looks at me like I’m insane for the amendment before turning back to Bailey and Peeta. “You’re dating Bailey Barley?” She say incredulously.

Bailey Barley? Is that a nickname? Now I’m the one who’s completely lost at sea, feeling like there was a good chunk of time I somehow missed.

Bailey’s blue eyes stare into Jo’s now, not exactly friendly but not as belligerent as I’ve seen her before. As I saw her last week.

I don’t know nor do I understand what they’re silently communicating, but I do comprehend one thing without a doubt.

Johanna knows Bailey. Somehow, someway, Johanna knows Bailey even more than I do.

Peeta doesn’t seem too confused though. He doesn’t even seem fazed by the exchange at all. Instead he drops Bailey’s hand—not soon enough, in my opinion—and moves to set some kind of meat and potato meal down on the table.

“Where did you get the meat?” I ask abruptly, recognizing it as deer. I just shot my first in a long time only the other day. How on Earth did Peeta get deer meat around the same time I did.

“I traded a cake for it. At the Hob,” he explains nonchalantly, avoiding my bewildered eyes now.

I just stare at him for a second, debating on even further commenting.

The Hob is where I traded the deer after killing it. Peeta literally baked a cake and traded it for meat, just because I wouldn’t speak to him.

He literally traded a cake so I could eat the meat that I hunted myself.

Something about that scenario vindicates me slightly. And I have to wonder if I’ve become sadistic with time and solitude.

My attention though is pulled back to Johanna and Bailey now. “What’re you doing in Twelve?”

Bailey takes her seat, between Haymitch and Peeta, with grace. “Peeta and I met in the Capitol,” she states simply. “I decided to come here and spend some more time with him. Get to know him a little better.”

As if to punctuate her words, she places one dainty hand on top of Peeta’s and gives it a squeeze.

I can’t even fight my eye roll.

“I see,” Jo murmurs, casting a sideway glance at me, none too subtle. “Well, it looks like you did... that.”

Delly snickers into her water glass and I don’t miss the way Bailey shoots her an irritated glance. Peeta seemingly does though. Haymitch is already too tipsy to care if an actual fight breaks out among us, his white liquor kicking in quick.

Annie on the other hand, who I’ve always believed to often be oblivious to all those around her, decidedly cuts the tension here. “Well, I’m hungry. Peeta, pass me a plate.”

And just like that, we’re having one of the most awkward meals I’ve ever had to endure.

Read More On AO3

[bluebellhairpin]

I Am Back with Some PacRim AU Content That No One Asked For. Again. Because I Self-Indulge. A Lot. 

Masterlist

In celebration of my apparent need to hop back onto the AoT PacRim AU bandwagon, I’ve decided to put together a list of the Jaegers from my fic-verse. 

The Current Jaegers are the ones that are operative at the time of the fic. The Retired Jaegers are the ones no longer in use, due to damage or the Pilots dying. The Jaegers that are In-Construction are the ones that we could see in later fics. 

In the PacRim-verse, there are two pilots to a Jaeger, and they are incharge of a majority of one hemisphere in the Jaeger’s ‘brain’. The Pilot of the Left hemisphere is known as the more ‘in command’ of the two pilots. Listed below are the Pilots with each Jaeger, and the first pilot listed in the one in control of the left hemisphere. 

Current Jaegers; 

Freedom Scout (Rebuilt) (Mark-5) - Piloted by Hange Zoe and Levi Ackerman 

Warrior Titan (Mark-6) - Piloted by Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover 

Eagle Eye (Mark-2) - Piloted by Miche Zacharias and Nanaba Zacharias 

Saint Wrath (Mark-6) - Piloted by Armin Arlert, Eren Jaeger, and Mikasa Ackerman

Servo Niner (Mark-5) - Piloted by Connie Springer and Sasha Braus

Retired Jaegers; 

Freedom Scout (Mark-3) - Piloted by Erwin Smith and Levi Ackerman

Blue Kiss (Mark-2) - Piloted by Levi Ackerman, Fulran Church, and Isabel Magnolia

Rebel Riot (Mark-1) - Piloted by Kenny and Kuchel Ackerman 

Bone Breaker (Mark-1) - Piloted by Erwin Smith and Maria Wall 

In-Construction Jaegers; 

Shock Stain (Mark-7) - To be Piloted by Levi Ackerman and (y/n) (l/n)

God’s Hammer (Mark-7) - To be Piloted by Zeke and Eren Jaeger 

Icarus Fallout (Mark-7) - To be Piloted by Annie Leonheardt 

Below I’m going to list some traits/headcanons of the Jaeger’s, and I’m putting them under the cut because this could get lengthy - especially for those who don’t want this. So for those who enjoy my offering to the Tumblr Void, here -

Freedom Scout (rebuilt version) 

Overall Achiever. These guys get’s shit done, by any and all means.

Hange is the Pilot, and Levi is their co. Honestly they weren’t drift compatible in training, but as time went on things changed. 

They both actually work very well together. 

Scout is a very sleek Jaeger, good for maneuverability and fast attacks. Quick. Clean. Just like Levi likes. And Hange lets him because he let’s Hange be messy every once in a while. Vary rare once-in-a-while’s. 

Warrior Titan

Yeah yeah yeah I’m very shameless with the naming of this Jaeger. 

It’s only natural that Reiner and Bert get a Jaeger together, considering out of all the canon-verse characters they do get along best. 

Their Jaeger is very durable. Mainly defencing offence, and keeping Kaiju’s at bay rather than efficiently fighting them. If it’s a higher-level Kaiju, they’d be deployed to wear it down and they’d do that easily. 

It’s an Armoured Jaeger, guys. That’s all I’m trying to say. 

Eagle Eye

Miche and Nanaba are currently on Maternity Leave in the fic-verse. 

A side-effect of the neural handshake needed to pilot a Jaeger, both pilots can get a thing called ‘ghost drifting’. Miche get’s it all. The. Time. Especially when Nana is going through her blood-filled monthlies.  

You can only guess how haywire it is rn. 

They’re Jaeger is very tactical, and it is one of the Marshall’s favourites for this reason. 

They’re not afraid to back down from a fight and ask for help. They prefer keeping things easy rather than taking risks.  

Saint Wrath

Jaeger’s piloted by three people are very rare, even in the pacrim-verse. But they do exist. 

Usually there’s a reason behind that - an extra limb (See: Crimson Typhoon) or some sort of more advanced weaponry (See: Titan Redeemer) - and in this case it’s just because it’s so fucking big. 

Like it’s called a Saint cause those Kaiju’s better start praying, ya know? 

Armin focuses on where to move the damn thing and how to do it and Eren and Mikasa just get it done. Like, two Braincells, and Armin has half of each. 

Eventually, Jean replaces Eren. 

Servo Niner

It’s a small Jaeger but good grief does it bring forth the chaos. 

Like think of a chainsaw, a crocodile, the feeling you get late at night, and whatever red thing was in ‘Crimson Peak’ all in a room together and you’re about halfway close to thinking of what Sasha and Connie do to the Kaiju’s. 

It looks like a Jaw Titan. But big enough to fight a Kaiju. 

You can hear them playing ‘MIC Drop’ by BTS as they slaughter the children of the Precursors. 

Like lemme in on that action guys, you make it look so fun. 

Freedom Scout (OG)

Before Erwin lost his arm, he Piloted this Jaeger with Levi as his co. 

Having both been in a Jaeger before they were rather experienced. 

Levi trusted Erwin quicker than he did Hange from their training days, hence why they piloted together sooner too. 

But then there was a Kaiju, and the Jaeger took heavy damage, Erwin lost his arm, and the rest is history. 

Blue Kiss

Levi, Furlan and Isabel piloted the first three-pilot Jaeger, in the fic-verse, and most of the reason behind that was because they’re so inseparable. 

They entered training as a trio of childhood friends, and exited as legends in the making.

Furlan and Isabel died with that legend marked on their graves, while Levi was the one left behind. 

The Jaeger was more of a prototype than a real-deal Jaeger, which is why it didn’t last very long or rake up many kills before it was bested by a Kaiju. 

Rebel Riot

Kenny and Kuchel were two of a three-person trial run. Their cousin was not chosen to complete the trial runs and was sent home. The trials were then known as a two-person trial run. 

The two didn’t really get along, or agree, but they often compromised with what they had to do in order to get the jobs done. 

They were very deadly. However, due to the side-effects of the ‘trial run’s’, Kuchel had a blackout while piloting, and the event caused Kenny to have to pilot alone. 

They didn’t pilot again. 

Bone Breaker

This Jaeger was one of the first produced, however sat stagnet until Erwin and his co-pilot Maria came along. 

During a fight with a higher-level Kaiju, this Jaeger and another piloted by Maria’s sisters - Rose and Sina - was damaged beyond repair. Maria died, while Rose and Sina didn’t want to ever pilot again. 

Erwin was determined to not let Maria’s sacrifice go to waste, and after a couple months he decided to look for a new co-pilot. 

Alongside Rebel Riot, it was a Mark 1 Jaeger. Now it’s restored helm is in a museum, and can be visited by anyone who wishes to see what it could be like to be inside a Jaeger’s ‘head’. 

Shock Stain

The first of the Mark-7 Jaegers, this is another that could easily count as an ‘all-rounder’. 

It’s name comes from it’s weapons - a set of electrically charged wrist guards - that can be used to stun and disorientate the Kaiju’s.  

Levi and his pilot work insanely well together - so much so that it could be considered more than simply ‘drifting’. 

As of yet, they don’t pilot together, bu in the near future they will, and they would be unstoppable. 

God’s Hammer

Eren decides to traide up the three-person Jaeger for another. One with his Brother. 

Dumbass ends up getting border-line brainwashes before he pulls a uno reverse card on Zeke. 

Despite the mighty name, the two aren’t actually that great, and they end up getting pulled out of piloting after a few drops. 

They’re replaced by Pieck Finger and Porco Galliard. 

Icarus Fallout

The first of it’s kind - a Jaeger small enough to be piloted by a single person. 

Again for emphasis - it is very small - however it’s use is to be an aid to the larger Jaegers. Serving as a extra weapon of sorts. 

Despite it’s size, it is very strong, and it is very maneuverable and a fair amount faster than the other Jaegers too.

Annie was chosen to pilot this Jaeger, mainly because she doesn’t trust easily at all - but also because she works exceptionally well on her own, and can read situations very easily. 

[arcwhore]

Trust

{rafe cameron} x {reader}

Request: Rafe cheating at a party. 

description: rafe has a soft spot for his little sisters best friend, and is there when she leaves. who’s gonna be there when he leaves?

warnings: angst, yelling, hitting

word count: 3163

Your heels clicked as you walked up the steps of the Cresswell family manor, tightly holding your clutch in your left hand. Your right hand was clasped around your boyfriend's arm, and you could feel his biceps flex in anticipation.

                                    ≿————-   ❈   ————-≾

Every year at the end of the summer, all the Kooks went out with a bang. You were to wear the most formal attire you could find, and come with the intentions of getting fucked up.

 You had always gone with your best friend, Sarah, but just about a month ago, she started dating a Pogue; who was undeniably handsome, so you were happy for her. 

“As long as you’re happy, Sarah. I will always stand by you,” you had told her. 

She slipped away after that, barely making any time for you, ditching you at Midsummers. She was always with John B, and it hurt, but you knew that she deserved a good relationship, and so did she. You had took that as your que to venture out to new places; find new people. By new people, I mean Sarah’s brother. 

The first night she ditched you, you showed up at her house, clothes soaking wet. Despite the time, you rang the doorbell. When no one answered, you held your finger to the button, hoping there would be some kind of rapid alarm. It was all high tech, so you were just hoping, but really, you were probably just standing there like an idiot. 

After knocking, banging, and ringing the doorbell multiple times, muscly legs descended down the stairs. A tired--and very grumpy--Rafe appeared, walking towards the door all while rubbing his eyes. He saw you through the glass and debated on turning off the light and going back upstairs, but he didn’t want to have to deal with your constant pounding on the door. When he opened the door, you immediately stepped inside. 

“Woah, hey, what the fuck are you doing here?” Rafe complained. He was surprised by your entrance, your clothes clinging to your body and showing off your perfect curves. The light pink shirt you wore was now see through, prompting his eyes to attach themselves to your visible cleavage. 

“Where is Sarah?” You asked him. You figured he probably wouldn’t tell you. That, or he actually didn’t know. 

“How the fuck should I know? Little miss princess is probably hanging out with her pathetic pogue of a boyfriend.” He grumbled, taking a seat on the stairs and staring at you. 

“She ditched me! Left me at home, all by mys fucking self, while she goes out fucking her boyfriend! They’re probably having sex on his shitty bed right now, and shes not even thinking about me!”

“Well, to be fair, if she was thinking about you in the middle of sex that would be a little awkward…” Rafe interrupted. You glared at him, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. “Did you really run all the way over here just to rant to me about my sister?”

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” you quoted. “Rafe, do I look like I have fucking teleportation skills? Of course I ran here! My car’s in the shop and Sarah was supposed to come over, but she didn’t and now 2 hours later, here I am, losing my shit because I’m not going to get a project done!” You vented. Rafe gave you a bitchy look, one eyebrow raised and his mouth in a straight line.

 “Come on, Rafe. Help me out here,” you begged. 

“Go home, Y/N,” he got up from his seat on the stairs, stammering towards you. He tried to usher you out the door, but you pushed his hands off. “Y/N…”

“Goddammit, Rafe!” you groaned, stomping out the door. You went out, sitting on the porch. You waited for the rain to die down, waited for some sign that it was going to slow; but it didn’t. 

Rafe watched you from inside, waiting on you to stomp your ass right back through the door, but you didn’t. You sat and stared into the night, watching the water droplets splash as they hit the stone pavement. His chest started to shrink as he watched you, his mind wandering. 

In an abrupt motion, he unlocked the door, pulling you inside. He motioned for you to follow him upstairs, and you crossed your arms reluctantly. You were starting to shiver from the AC, your cold clothes suddenly feeling like an ice bath. 

“Come on, I’ll get you some warm clothes.” you padded up the stairs after him, wondering why he was being so nice to you. You wanted to say something, to ask what the sudden change of heart was, but you knew it would ruin the moment. Your feet left prints on the floor, leading all the way to his bedroom. You watched him as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt-- well, Rafe sized-- and handed it over to you. 

“Bathrooms’ through there,” he nodded. You muttered a thanks before going to get changed. You stripped out of your sopping wet clothes, dropping them onto the floor like a wet mop. Rafe’s clothes were a bit big, but they were so comfortable. You walked back in holding your wet clothes in hand, holding them out to him.

“I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with them,” you said softly. He grabbed them from your hands, walking out of the room. He left you alone again, but this time you didn’t feel lonely. You sprawled out on his bed, taking in a deep breath of the leftover cologne on his sheets. You would have never admitted it, but he smelled amazing; like clean linens and lemon shampoo. The sound of footsteps approached you, but you were already falling into the darkness of sleep. Rafe rustled through his closet, trying to find something to put on the floor as a palette. He laid down, taking a pillow off the bed and shoving it under his head. He had a scowl on his face, upset that you took his bed, but when his eyes drifted to your peaceful figure, the frustration faded. A faint smile took its place, and he closed his eyes, drifting off. 

                                  ≿————-　❈　————-≾

You walked in together, greeted by your friends who, not to your surprise, were already hammered. They giggled at your reaction, as you were trying to mediate their state until you got a little into your system. You let go of Rafe’s arm and headed to the kitchen. He watched you walk away, turning towards one of your mutual friends and starting a conversation. 

                                    ≿————-   ❈   ————-≾

The second time was Midsummers. You came to her house early, getting ready with her. She had told you that you two would dance and drink that night. She said she was sorry and wanted to make up for what she did. You were starting to doubt her more and more with every sentence she told you, but you agreed nonetheless. 

You had a light blue dress with leg slits while she had the same, but in red. You did each others makeup while she blasted music in her bedroom. 

“I’m sorry that I ditched you that night, Y/N. It was stupid... I don’t know what I was thinking skipping out on an opportunity to hang out with you,” Sarah apologized. She powdered your face, looking into your eyes sincerely. All you did was nod and smile, hoping that would suffice. 

“I missed you, Sarah,” you muttered. 

“I know, I miss you too. So damn much,” she put her brush down and gave you a tight hug. You sank into her embrace, allowing yourself a few minutes of peace before chaos. You sighed into her shoulder. 

“Let’s get this party started!” you suddenly screamed, changing the vibe in the room. 

“You bet!” Sarah replied. She walked over to her mirror, and you stood up to look at yourself. “You look beautiful.”

“You look gorgeous,” you smiled with reassurance, stepping into your shoes and heading downstairs. Rafe met you at the bottom wearing a light blue tux. Your eyes locked, and a spark of electricity ran down from your head to your toes. You felt all warm and tingly inside just from looking at him.

“Well look at us! Did you plan this Cameron?” You teased, stepping down to the 2nd bottom step to get to his height. A smile peaked through his lips, and he tried his best to conceal it. 

“Yeah, I definitely snuck into your closet just to see what color dress you were wearing just so I could match with your lazy ass,” he snickered. 

“Oh come on, you don’t gotta be mean, Rafe. We’ve known each other for 8 years, I think it’s time to start warming up.”

“I think we’re pretty warm, considering you slept in my bed the night my sister ditched you,” he struck. You rolled your eyes at his comment, simply just brushing past him. “We were talking, Y/N!”

“We were. Now were not,” you replied briskly, swinging the door to the Cameron household open and strutting out. He stared as you walked out, entangled in your sassy personality. He loved the way you fought with him; so playful, so harmless; but somehow, it always seem to hurt him the most when you walked away. 

You had been searching for Sarah for half an hour, and you were already frustrated. The party had started and people were drinking all around you, and it made it a lot harder to see through whiskey glasses. You grabbed an unattended drink from the bar, downing it in seconds as you walked inside. 

The music muffled inside the corridor, your heels clacking on the granite floors. You began to walk up the stairs, but you heard a deep voice rumble behind you. 

“Can’t find your precious friend?” Rafe asked. You spun around, your face turning red from embarrassment. You shook your head shyly. 

“It’s fine, I knew she would leave me anyway,” you shrugged your shoulders. He scoffed, looking at you with his pupils blown. “Don’t look at me like that, dumbass.” 

You averted your gaze, but it felt as if your eyes had magnets in them, and Rafe’s were the only other ones that could lock them in place. You felt your body start to heat up as he stared at you, and your sure that your eyes were starting to get wider. You felt his hand trace up your arm, the other grabbing your waist. You let out a small gasp, trying not to show him that you were too vulnerable. His hand reached your neck, reaching around the back of it and slowly pulling you in. He stopped right when your lips were centimeters apart, waiting for you to close the gap. 

You connected your lips with his, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. His arm snuck around your waist and pulled your hips until they bumped into his. His lips glided on top of yours so gently, not at all like what you were expecting from him. Both of your minds were wandering, but someone clearing their throat ruined the mood. You pulled away from each other, checking in the direction of the noise. Ward stood there with a smirk on his face.

“If you’re gonna kiss, go do it in private,” he winked, passing by and heading to the bathroom. He turned to look at you, giving you the ‘I’m watching you’ motion, and you giggled. You turned back to Rafe.

“What do you say we take this somewhere more private, good sir?” You joked.

“Of course M’Lady,” he smiled. 

                                   ≿————-　❈　————-≾

The smell of alcohol and weed was smothering, but you were trying to do anything to take the edge off. You had been looking forward to this party all day, and the fight with your parents early this morning didn’t help but fuel you more. You grabbed the closest bottle and took it straight, bringing it to your lips and feeling your body warm up. You kicked around the balloons that floated on the ground as you drank, swallowing swig after swig. You set down the bottle and took off your shoes, putting them on the pile in the corner before you saw Rafe headed towards you. You reached out your hands for him and screamed, “Let’s dance!” 

You dragged him out on the floor, backing up against him and grinding. He had his hands on your hips, swaying you, but he wasn’t holding you like he usually did. You spun around, trying to meet his gaze. When you turned, his eyes were preoccupied, but they snapped back to you before you could see what he was looking at. 

“What’s wrong?” Your head titled to the side in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. He shook his head.

“Nothing, sorry.”

“You sure? Cause I can get out way for you,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. You threw up your hands, exasperated, and walked to the kitchen again. He didn’t even try to follow you. You grabbed a pre-roll off the counter, pulling out the lighter in your bra. You inhaled, letting the smoke fill your lungs. Exhaling through your nose, your eyes closed and you allowed the beat of the music to flow through you. You started to sway your hips again, bringing your arms up in response. You moved towards the party again, joint still in hand. You moved through the overcrowded living room of sweaty teenagers, searching for your tree of a boyfriend. You took another drag, blowing the smoke in some strangers’ face. You couldn’t help but laugh when she made a disgusting face at you. 

The anger in your bones started to shake you when you couldn’t find Rafe. “I know damn well...”

Your thought process kicked in when you stepped out of the crowd. You stomped up the stairs, opening every door that was unlocked. You walked in on a few couples but left too quick to say sorry. You opened one door, and it was pitch black. You heard the bed stop squeaking when you entered. You flipped on the light, trying your best to make out the figures on the bed. It was a good idea, fucking a girl behind your back, but doing it in the dark so you would never suspect a thing, right? Wrong. 

“Rafe?” You shrieked, eyes settling on the half naked figure staring at you with wide eyes. You could hear the girl under him whisper to him. You smirked and advanced towards them. 

“Who is it, Rafe?” The girl asked. He stuttered, trying to find his words. He fully stood, trying to stop you from getting any closer.

“Yeah, who is it, Rafe? Who-” you pushed him back, “fucking is it?”

“Y/N, chill out,” he mediated. You laughed, looking over at the bed. 

“This bitch? Come on, if you’re gonna cheat on me, cheat on me with someone who’s prettier than me. It’s the least you can do!”

“I-I didn’t realize he had-” you interrupted the ginger.

“You, shut the fuck up and get out,” you yelled. She scrambled for her clothes, running out into the hallway with only her underwear on. You glared at him, waiting for a response. “Come on, say it big boy.”

“Y/N...” you raised your eyebrows, tilting your head in inquisitively. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, that’s all you got to say, huh?” He stayed silent. “You’re un-fucking-believable. I mean, who thought; Rafe Cameron actually being struck speechless? Bullshit!”

“Y/N, it was a mistake, I don’t know what came over me,” he apologized. His eyes were pleading, trying desperately for you to listen to him. You gestured for him to continue. “I love you, but I don’t...”

“You don’t what Rafe?” you asked. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship, Y/N!” You looked at him for a minute, trying to see if he was serious or not. His face never faltered, and you broke out into a smile. You were laughing so hard, trying not to break out crying in the process. He kept his gaze on you, his face full of confusion from your reaction. 

“You’re full of shit, Cameron! Just like the rest of your family!”

“Y/N, do we have to do this here?” Rafe pointed of the gatherings of people outside the door. 

“Do we have to- you dumb fuck!” you punched his bare chest. “Did you have to,” hit, “fuck,” hit, “that girl,” slap to the face, “here?”

“You’re a piece of shit, Rafe Cameron,” you turned and started walking out the door, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whimpered.

“Fuck you.”

                                  ≿————-　❈　————-≾

Cuddled up in your bed reading a book, you were interrupted by a knock on your door. “Y/N, baby, you have a visitor.”

“Who is it?” you heard feet scurrying at the door.

“It’s Sarah,” the sweet voice spoke. 

“Go away, Sarah,” you grumbled, stuffing your face in a pillow. You heard the door open and close and you rolled over on your back. 

“What do you want?” You asked harshly. She sat on the edge of the bed slowly, trying not to overstep her boundaries. 

“Look, I just wanted to say that Rafe’s been a total wreck without you the past few days-”

“Let me stop you right there; if you came over here to try to convince me to get back together with that douchebag, then you can go ahead and leave.” You sighed, throwing your head back. “I don’t wanna hear anything else about him.”

“No, God, no. I think he needed to feel some pain, kick his ass into line. I just wanted you to know how miserable you made him.”

“He made himself miserable,” you sat up, looking at her eyes for the first time in weeks. You missed the delicate features that you used to see every day. 

“I know, sorry. I’m just sorry that he did that to you, and I just feel like it’s my fault.”

“Honestly, it mostly is. You ditched me and he gave me comfort. It was just my stupid decision that led me to fall for him.”

“Well, didn’t expect the guilt trip today, but I guess I deserve that,” she chuckled. “Can we please start over? I’m so sorry for all the shit I did to you, and I’m sorry about how it all ended up. I miss my best friend.”

She gave you the pouty face which she knew you could resist. You thought about it for a few seconds before agreeing. 

“Fine, but don’t expect me to get along with your brother.” She squealed and clapped her hands together, giving you a caste kiss on the cheek. 

You looked at her and smiled.

“I fucking missed you.”

my masterlist

[kinglazrus]

Not Your Danny – Ch 6. Obsessions

Previous | First | Next | FFN | AO3

Word count: 3109

Eventually, Dani has to go back to Fenton Works. She stays with Sam and Tucker at the mall for a few hours, enjoying their company; but, as the afternoon wanes and evening draws near, their hangout time comes to an end.

"I can't believe my parents are making me stick to a curfew. I'm eighteen. I didn't have a curfew a month ago," Sam says when she notices the time.

"A month ago, they didn't know you part-time as a ghost hunter. I can't believe they made your curfew eight," Tucker says.

They manage to hit a couple more stores before Sam has to go, and even swing by the food court again to grab some food-to-go. By the time Dani goes home, she has four bags of new clothes plus a box of pizza all to herself.

"Here." Tucker leans across the passenger seat and holds something out to Dani.

When she takes it, shuffling the shopping bags around her arms so she has a free hand, she notices that it's a cellphone. Basic, with a touch screen.

"It's pre-paid. I have a bunch, so don't worry about it. Mine and Sam's numbers are on there, so you can text us if you want to hang out again."

Dani clutches the phone to her chest. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Dani waits until Tucker has pulled away before turning toward the house. It's hard to tell with the curtains drawn, and the harsh glow of the Fenton Works sign splashed across the building, but it looks as if the lights are off inside. A quick scan of the street shows that Jazz's car is gone, although she could have parked around back, or by the garage instead. Dani heads up to the front door and tries the knob. It doesn't budge.

Rather than trying the doorbell or knocking, she goes intangible and walks right through the door. Inside, the lights are off, just as she suspected. She doesn’t bother turning them on. With her enhanced vision, she can see perfectly well in the dark, albeit in dark, muted shades.

In the kitchen, she finds a note from Jazz: Mom and Dad out testing weapons. I will be at Spike's. There's food in the fridge. Dani doesn't know who Spike is.

When she peeks in the fridge, she finds a tin-foiled plate of meatloaf waiting for her, as promised. She doesn't bother with it, though, taking her pizza up to Danny's room instead. The house without the Fentons there feels... pretty much the same. Without the ambient noise of Jazz's typing or Jack's distant footsteps, the house is far quieter than Dani has ever heard it. Even at night, Maddie's chainsaw snores—which surprises Dani more than it annoys her—keep the house from falling completely silent.

Now, there's nothing but Dani's soft breathing.

It's quiet, and yet, the house feels no less empty than it always does.

She deposits the shopping bags at the foot of Danny's bed and takes her pizza to his desk. Since arriving, she has cleared away enough clutter that the box can fit, although it's a tight squeeze. One side of the box rests on top of the keyboard. She looks between the greasy cardboard and the keys, wondering if it might wreck them. There shouldn't be enough grease that it will leak through, but she decides not to risk it.

Dani lifts the box and shoves the keyboard aside. It smacks into the base of the Challenger's display case, sending it toppling over the edge of the desk.

"No!" Dani throws herself out of the chair, reaching for the model. Her fingers skim the glass but miss. Blind panic fills her and something in her chest bursts. A bright glow launches from her palms and surrounds the case.

The model jerks to a stop a mere inch from the floor.

Dani's heart hammers in her chest. The horrible realization of what would have happened if she missed drains the blood from her face. Careful not to make any sudden moves, she pushes herself onto her knees, arms still outstretched. A thin thread connects the light surrounding her palm and the display case. It tugs on her, like a sixth finger, each movement sending an unfamiliar ripple up her arm.

Telekinesis is not a rare ability among ghosts. A common power, like intangibility, invisibility, and flight, more than half of all spectral entities have some form of it. But unlike those first powers, telekinesis can rely heavily on a ghost's power level and general skill. Where one ghost may struggle to move a toothpick, another can uproot a whole tree with nothing more than a thought.

Dani, until this moment, could not use it at all.

When she flexes her fingers, the model drifts toward her. The moment she has it in hand, the light disappears, and the model's weight hits her. Heavier than expected, enough that her arms bow under its sudden presence. She holds the model in a tight embrace as she rises to her feet. With her elbow, she pushes the keyboard out of the way to clear space and returns the display case to the desk.

After a moment's consideration, Dani nudges the model closer to the middle of the desk. Even if it makes things tighter, she doesn't want that to happen again

She returns to the chair, but rather than eating her pizza, her focus stays on the model. It looks undamaged inside the case, still fixed to its wooden base. At a glance, it seems sturdy enough that it could hold up to a bit of knocking around. A hard smash to the floor would probably do it in, though. The thought makes her stomach twist.

With most of Danny's things, their importance still eludes her. Now that she has her own clothes, and a phone, it's starting to dawn on her why people like things. It's nice, to speak frankly. Being able to have something, to keep it somewhere and return to it, is a nice feeling. But then there are feelings attached to the items, too.

Jack said this model was Danny's favourite. Dani has no way of knowing if she is right about why it was his favourite. It was only a guess based on what she knew of her cousin, what he thought of his parents. Danny didn't smile a lot when it came to them, at least not as far as Dani saw. Maddie and Jack rarely came up during cousin bonding time unless they came after Dani and Danny while they were hanging out. But, sometimes, Danny would smile so bright at the mention of his parents.

If he had done well on a test and they congratulated him. If they took him to the planetarium. If they went stargazing recently. None of these things happened often, but when they did, and Danny told her about them, his smile would be so bright Dani found it hard to look at.

Thinking about her new clothes, Dani wonders if the smile she can feel on her face is just as bright as Danny's had been.

"I'm sorry I lost the music player you got me," she says to the Challenger. "I didn't realize how important it could have been." She shrugged it off at the time. Even now, what little guilt she feels over it stems from losing something that could have been dear to her rather than something that wasdear.

How many things has she lost that could have been important? She already knows the answer: far too many.

—

Jazz was distracted during the funeral. She tried to hide it, but Jack knew his daughter all too well. As she gave her final goodbyes to Danny, she kept wiping her eyes and looking over the crowd, her gaze searching. Jack looked over his own shoulder a few times, trying to see what Jazz was searching for. He couldn’t find it, obviously.

There weren't many people in the crowd. Immediate family; Sam and Tucker, plus their parents; Valerie came, as well, along with Casper High's vice-principal. Jack had no other family to speak of besides his wife and children—now child. And the only relative still in contact with Maddie, her sister, could not make it in time. Jack understood although it hurt.

Over the past few months, Danny had grown closer with his aunt. Jack wasn't sure when it happened, and it took him a while to catch on. Maddie and Alicia spoke on the phone at least twice a month since Alicia didn't have a cellphone or internet. It was standard practice for Maddie to drag one of the kids into the conversation to say hi. Jazz always went willingly. Danny usually complained.

However, at some point, his complaints stopped. If Danny caught Maddie on the phone, he would eagerly jump into the conversation. He even started shooing out whoever was in the room. Jack blamed it on teenage antics. It wasn't until Jack caught the tail end of one of their conversations that he realized something had changed.

Danny sat at the kitchen table, phone to his ear. When Jack entered, he sat up straighter.

"I'll try and bring it up next time I see her. Not sure when that will be, but her birthday's coming up." Danny paused as the person on the other end replied, then nodded. "Cool. Bye Auntie Alicia, love you."

"Alicia? Don't you think your mother would have liked to say goodbye before you hung up?" Jack asked.

Danny set the phone down on the table. "That'd be weird since Mom didn't call her. Is she even home right now?"

Now that Jack thought about it, no, she wasn't. Maddie went to the store nearly an hour ago to buy cookie fixings. "Good point!" Now that Jack was paying attention, he saw the phone on the table was Danny's cell and not the house phone. "Was she leaving you a message for Maddie?"

"No, I called her."

"Plans for your mom's birthday next month?"

"Nope." Danny stood up and pocketed his phone. "I'm going to Sam's. See you later."

Jack paid more attention after that. There were other phone calls, always the same, where Danny would find somewhere private to talk. Sometimes he clammed up when Jack walked in and quickly ended the conversation. Once, Jack thought he caught Danny crying. It was late. Jack himself had only gotten home a little while ago thanks to a particularly nasty ghost attack that day. For nearly twenty minutes, he and Maddie had chased the ghost boy, trying to catch him while he was down. Phantom was a damn good flyer, though, even when injured.

The first thing Jack did when he got home was check on the kids, and that's how he found Danny curled up beside his bed, his phone cradled against his ear. Every blanket in the room was pulled tight around him.

"I don't know if I can do it anymore," Danny had said. "It keeps getting harder, and today I just–" his voice cracked.

The moment that followed was quiet. Not a single sob escaped Danny, but his shoulders shook. Jack was about to step inside when Alicia's voice, strong and steady, so loud in the silence, came from the phone.

"You're gonna be okay, kiddo."

Jack didn't go inside. Maybe he should have. Danny asked several times when they would be visiting Alicia next after the phone call. Every time he asked was like a punch to the got, but Jack never spoke up. If Danny wanted to come to him, then he could. If he was more comfortable talking to Alicia about this mystery problem, that was fine too.

He'll come to me when he needs to. Jack kept telling himself that until the day Danny died.

—

Jazz hoped she might see Dani in the crowd. A small part of her whispered that maybe she had missed Dani, glanced away right as she appeared. But, considering how few people were in attendance, that seemed unlikely. Beyond that, if a halfa did not want to get seen, they would not be seen.

Which brought Jazz to another guest she expected, although did not welcome: Vlad. Her worrying proved pointless, though, when he never showed up. As the lingering crowd thinned, Danny's friends and loved ones saying their final goodbyes, Jazz searched the heads once more. No red beanie or glowing white hair, and no pompous ponytail.

At the first opportunity, Jazz pulled Sam and Tucker aside. "Have either of you seen Dani?"

"Uh... is this some kind of joke?" Tucker asked. He glanced none too subtly toward the freshly filled grave. Sam at least had more tact and waited for Jazz to elaborate.

"Dani-with-an-i."

"Oh." Tucker shook his head. "No. We've been trying to contact her, but there isn't a great way to reach her. Left some messages with some ghosts, but that doesn't help if she's not in the Ghost Zone right now."

"She isn't." Jazz checked on the whereabouts of her parents. They were nearer the grave, speaking solemnly with Angela and Maurice Foley. Most importantly, they were well out of earshot. "I saw her at Fenton Works last night, but she ran away."

"Damn." Sam lifted the black veil hanging from her hat, revealing red eyes and smudged makeup. "I hope she's okay. Did she say anything before she left?"

Jazz hesitated. Although the whole exchange only lasted a few seconds, it had yet to leave her mind, for reasons she was ashamed to admit. And yet, no matter how guilty she felt about her initial reaction to Dani, she could not forget about it.

"No," she said. "Dani saw me and bolted. She might have thought I was my mom since it was so dark."

"We'll have to keep an eye out for her. I don't if she would stay without Danny here, but it's not like she has anywhere else to go, either," Sam said.

"I will, too. I thought she might show up here, but..."

"Sammykins!" Pamela Manson called from the cemetery gate. She tapped her wrist, although she wore no watch. "There's a crowd forming, dear."

Jazz grimaced at the sight beyond the funeral gates. A small gathering of Danny Phantom fans stood on the sidewalk, some bearing signs, all dressed for mourning. It was the most inappropriate display she had ever seen. None of them had breached the cemetery, but Jazz suspected that was because of the hired security standing at the gate and not the onlooker's own sense of morality.

She dreaded what the crowd might do as soon as she and her family left.

Sam scowled. "I can't believe them. I get if they want to mourn the local hero, but this is such gross behaviour." She looked remarkably like her mother as she hissed those words, her lip curling in disgust as she glared at the onlookers.

Jazz agreed wholeheartedly.

"I'll text you as soon as my mom takes me off house arrest," Sam told Tucker. "Jazz, let us know if you see Dani again. I'll sleep a little easier knowing she's alright."

Jazz nodded and gave her guarantee.

—

Vlad has lost obsessions before. Most well-balanced ghosts have. Any experienced ghost knows to have a few central obsessions and a handful of smaller ones. Latch on to a passing interest hard enough and all it takes is a little dedication to turn that into a full-blown obsession. Then, once it becomes tedious, let it go and move on to something else.

There have been some obsessions that he lost against his will. He once had a bonsai tree, a nice juniper, that he loved dearly. It went up in flames with his Wisconsin mansion the first time Danny destroyed his home. Vlad felt the loss like a bitter sting. At the same time, his determination to capture Danny for himself only grew, overwhelming painful prickle. Every slight against him only fuelled his desire more. Never had he fought so hard for something without immediate success. It made the game that much more fun.

And it was a game. Danny learned fast, but there was so much he didn't know, couldn't do. It was so easy to toy with him, egg him on, guide him to new abilities. The potential within him was limitless. Vlad could have overwhelmed Danny in seconds but there's no fun in that.

Perhaps that's why it was so easy for his other obsessions to slip away without him noticing.

He drifts through the halls of his mansion, familiar yet alien at the same time. On the landing, he drags his hand along the bannister, dust gathering against his fingers. His limb flickers, wispy blue, jumping sporadically in and out of intangibility. He designed the balustrades himself, inspired by the first twisted haunts he discovered within the Ghost Zone.

The wood cracks and splinters as his fingers solidify while passing through.

Before him, the front hall looms. Vast, open, a point of pride in every mansion he has owned. Better to impress the guests with a grand display upon entry. Now he finds it suffocating. All his hours of work, his obsessions wasted. Where simply looking upon his walls once filled him with pride, now they sicken him.

There is nothing for him here.

He went to such desperate lengths. Threats, bribery, manipulation, cloning. Nothing ever worked. Each new failure cut him deeper, made him more desperate, more eager. No. No, that wasn't right. He was subtle, clever, controlling an oblivious pawn in a cruel game. The winner, the mastermind. The cloak, not the dagger. The cat, not the mouse. But still always losing. Surely something he had to work this hard for, harder than anything in his life, had to be worth it.

And then, in an instant, in the span of an ectoblast, his obsession died.

"Maddie." Vlad moans, voice breaking. "Maddie. Maddie. Maddie." His please reach no one who cares. All his attempts to reach out, reforge that connection they once had, have been rebuffed.

"Maddie." Once, not so long ago, the sound of her name alone was enough to light his core ablaze.

But when, when, when, how, somewhere along the way that warmth died.

"Madeline, I need you." Please, please. Don't leave me to this. Don't go.

The cold wind whips against him, not unusual for an October day, but it startles him, nonetheless. He hunches halfway down the drive, the empty halls of his mansion long behind. He could return home, but... no. Home won't help him now.

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[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: Jaw$! or How Lena Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Webby (Lena Retrospective Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Trigger Warning: Part of this review contains discussions of abuse which can’t be avoided but I still want to be senstive to my audience and any trauma they’ve gone through.  Welcome back weblena world to Shadow Into Light: My Lena Sabrewing Retrospective. And Jaw$ is here, long live Jaw$. Tiffany was a shark who bites the law she was in an episode i’m reviewing called Jaw$. 

And it’s the money shark before the storm as next month i’ll be going from two Ducktales reviews a week with the Lena retrospective and the last few episodes.. to three, as i’ll ALSO be covering the Della arc from season 1 in the build up to shadow war. And if your wondering if I expertly planned this to coincide with the finale, to the point the shadow war review and those leading up to it will be on the same week as the finale.... nope. I just got REALLLLY lucky as I already had all of that planned out, and the schedule for the  new episodes happened to synch up perfectly, ending just in time for me to revisit the series start and having Magica’s big in person appearance reviewed a week after we get her backstory in Life and Crimes. Though I am VERY happy it worked out this way as I get to properly celebrate the series end with more ducks than ever, and get to cover the pilot the same month as the finale, all things i’d of loved to do anyway and probably would’ve rejiggered my schedule to do. Point is lot of Ducktales content coming for this blog if you like that so stay tuned, but for now join me won’t you under the cut as we dive into a money bin of gay ducks, shadowy machinations, and Bad PR. 

We open as Lena and Donald awkwardly sit on the couch, waiting for Scrooge and the Kids to get home. Understandably it’s just.. dead silence.Given their a cynical teenager secretly working for and forced to obey a horrifying shadow monster and a 35 year old man who dosen’t like living in this house due to painful memories of his presumed dead sister.. and painful memories of pain in general, you have a huge awkward bowl of chips and “I really don’t want to be here right now”. 

Our heroes return though, and Louie tries to take some of their haul for himself but Scrooge stops that “It goes in the bin not to next of kin. “... Man in a Hurry if you would please. 

Thank you. Man in a Hurry everybody. He has to go now, he’s in a hurry. 

 As you can probably guess I do not like this, as it reminds me WAY too much of Scrooge’s worst “quirk” in the comics: how he’d barely pay his nephews, who are often hard up for cash mind you and one of whom is supporting three children ALONE, take them around the world and reap all the benefit for their hard work. It’s not like he did nothing, he did, but it’s way to exploitive for my tastes and can often sink a story if taken too far. It’s not AS bad... but they all went on the mission they all deserve at least something. I DO get keeping the rarest and most dangerous stuff for himself, as he is bankrolling things and does have two bins and a massive garage to safetly store them. But this just comes off as douchey for this version, who while liable to make mistakes with them, is far more nurturing towards his boys and girls. 

Thankfully this was course corrected next season. While Scrooge’s greed was properly restored.. this sort of treatment wasn’t. “Treasure of the Found Lamp” had him undergo character development and realize simply hoarding his treasures isn’t right or fair, and set up a musuem wing so both duckburg and his descendants can see them and get the stories behind them. And on not getting to take things clearly he’s eithe relaxed or stopped the policy as our heroes do have souveneers from time to time. Not a LOT mind, but little things like Dewey having a giant sword or Scrooge outright giving Louie one of his things show he did soften up. Though Della’s return and likely lack of tolerance for this stupid policy in the first place probably helped a lot, I also like to think he did change a bit and realize it was deeply unfair they didn’t get more than a few treasures of their own. So the writers did realize they kind of went overboard here.  I suspect this was more to setup for the episode’s subplot and to make Scrooge’s karma at the end feel justified. Speaking of which we get the start of said Subplot as Beakley comes in with a money cart and the news the board called. Why they called his house instead of his phone I don’t know, some things slip through the cracks when you running both a billion dollar company an da trillion dollar fiendish organization  for world larceny. I mean they clearly worked themselves so hard the other two apparently died between seasons. That or it was the diet of whiskey, orphan tears and grease in a wine glass both had. Bradford always told them it’d kill them though to his credit he only said I told you so twice at their funeral. 

For once no their not mad Scrooge is spending all the money they use to buy fowl jetskis, but because the Company’s having a bit of a PR nightmare now that Scrooge is back in the adventuring game. And we cut to the beanstalk they just adventured on having tore up a good chunk of the town and destroyed large swaths of it just to sell the point this isn’t their normal old man yells at other old man for spending all me money schitck, but a serious problem. As such they’ve booked him an interview with Roxanne Fetherly to improve his image and the companies. 

Scrooge scoffs at this, baffled why he has bad pr as his adventuring is GOOD for the city in the long run: He pays for any damages it causes, and likely at a cost no less which is a LOT coming from scrooge, and puts most of the money he makes on these adventures back into the city and his company, creating more jobs and better living conditions. He does get a wakeup call via  truly hilarous gag as Launchpad pops his head up to say “Good news mr. mcdee, it missed the orphange!” before getting ready to chainsaw the stalk for him. He quickly realizes MAYBE he needs some PR and agress to the interview. 

 This whole subplot really plays into one of the series main themes, one Frank brought up a few months back: Risk vs Reward. Adventuring is entirely about this, that adventure is dangerous, can cost you a lot as we see with Della and the aftermath of her terrible decision making, and can hurt people.. but it can also help people, bring money to those who need it, free those who are being oppressed and open new worlds to everyone. This subplot distills it down great: Scrooge is right that his adventures do bring in money, and as seen with the first episode brought in clean water and power with no drawbacks and only asked to be paid for it, which is fair given he still has to run machines and likely help relocate any workers whose jobs are now redundant to other parts of the company and retrain them. But it costs people their homes and jobs, not forever but still as long as it takes to construct, tears up roads and puts people in danger. It’s plots like this that make Bradford the perfect final boss for the series: He’s someone who blinds himself to the reward of all this and only sees the risk, and raises valid points even if he himself is deeply wrong. He’s right Scrooge causes a lot of danger and threat to the world.. but wrong in that he dosen’t see it’s all worth it for the good of everyone. 

But enough about future story arcs let’s get back to this one, as Webby excitedly greets Lena and hugs her, realizes she’s not hugging her back then gives her another squeeze anyway after claming to hate hugs when just a LOOK at Webby would tell you that’s false. The two are having a sleepover, Webby’s first ever.. and given Lena’s essentially an Emo Hobo and the closest thing she has to home is that starlight ancient amptheater that’s never properly explained. Seriously ancient ruins near Duckburg dosen’t suprise me, but at least tell me what they are and why Magica chose them. And why Louie hasn’t tried to sell tickets to Dewey boxing a gorilla in them. Or probably a possum I mean their on a budget and gorillas snap necks, but still i’d pay to see that as would we all. 

Point is it’s their first sleepover and naturally Webby’s first bit of smalltalk.. is how tucking in can be used for interogation techniques. I’d be more suprised if earlier this season it hadn’t already been shown Beakly regularly enrolls her daughter in the no murder, unless you really want to, hunger games every year. The fact Webby hasn’t become the bat is only because she hasn’t found a costume that’s the right combintion of pinks and purples to instill pantswetting terror yet. That shit takes time. 

Lena goes to the bathroom.. to talk to Magica who we properly get to meet. She did speak last time, but this ep is the one that properly establishes her personality for the reboot: she has clever plans, tons of power, if sealed currently, and is a genuine threat.. but she’s also a bit of a ham, in love with the old ultra violence and really short sighted in her plans, something we got hints of last time as her best solution to the Beakly Problem was  to just leave her to die and hope scrooge and webby, two people who love solving mysteries and unlocking puzzles, don’t investigate the horrifying death, accident or not, of their only friend and grandmother, and that neither, especially the 12 year old spiraling with grief, would suspect a former spy died. Thoguh in fairness on the spy thing it’s plausable Magica didn’t know that, but still it’s a bad plan. Magica has good ideas but is just so obessed with the brute force way of doing things she forgets the subtle approach works better.. and so far it has well for Lena.  Problem is it’s VERY clear by this point that Lena likes Webby, maybe not romantic styles JUST YET but it’s getting there. Webby on the otherhand has been in love with Lena from the freaking concept art which showed her blushing around her.. and that was in her 87 design.. which they thankfully changed. It’s not terrible but it just dosen’t fit well with this universe. Point is Lena is catching feelings and Magica realizes this and tries to gaslight her telling her she’d never acccept the truth abotu her and so on. As we all know and as we’ll see that’s bullshit but it’s an effective manipulation. We also find out Magica’s plan: she had Lena sneak a jewel into the treasure going into the bin, and it’s going to turn into a monster that will seek out the Number One Dime for them. She also vaugely hints that there’s something Lena needs from Magica. 

Once Lena returns, and Webby let’s her rabbit know the interogation isn’t over, she gives her possible future girlfirend a gift: friendship bracelets! They both put them on and it’s really fucking cute.. and will be both a tangible symbol of hteir friendship and a plot point several times, something I honestly hadn’t thoguht about till now. Lena, put off by the gesture not because she dosen’t aprpciate it because of the crushing guilt of lying to the one person who cares about her under the insucrtions of a sociopath, goes to Webby’s big old corkboard which is always fun to look at.. especially since it’s clearly the ONLY glimpse at Hortense we’re going to get all series. 

We’re not getting Grandma Duck either. Though at least Frank actually regrets that one. But the important part is one of the posts mentoniing Scrooge hates magic, something Webby elaborates on: He hates spells, hexs curses and what not and feels them a shortcut.  From the man who has a garage full of them. 

I do kid as I did realize there’s a valid expliantion for this: Scrooge will use magical items, protection spells that sort of thing.. but he uses them like anything else as needed. He’s too pragmatic to not say, use the jewel of atlantis to give a city clean energy and water he can montizie, or the split sword against FOWL.. but more often than not he just dosen’t need them. He collects them because it’s fun, oftne profitable.. and their simply SAFER in his museum wing, garage and second bin will get to in two weeks. He’s seen time and time again how people misuse magic, forget it has a price, or just rely on it instead of actual skill. He’s also clearly been on the bad end of a LOT of evil sorcerers and soreceresses, especially magica. Magic isn’t inherently bad, which in itself is a BIG message of Lena’s arc, it’s just somethign that’s the OPPPSOITE OF everythign scrooge is: sacrifcing others for power, relying on something besides yourself, distance attacks versus up close and personal phsycial attacks.. it was never going to be for him and tons of bad experinces with it only cemented it. He’s just not so stubborn outside of the santa thing to avoid something if it’s going to net him a profit or come in a pinch. 

So naturally Scrooge has banned any magic books from his house, as he has no use for spellcasting and any he’d need to keep for saftey or history’s sake are likely at the archives, but just as naturally, Webby smuggled one in and wants to try it with Lena ducking it and asking to play some games. I”m sure Huey has a few yugioh decks in his room go bug him. But before they can decide on one, the boys attack for a PILLOW FIGHT.... which is a sweet gesture and them just wanting to hang out, but ends with them all eating the ground and questioning why they thought attacking the duck equilvent of cassandra cain was a good idea. Louie decides to salvage it with a swim.. but since their pool has a boat in it he has a diffrent location in mind: the bin.

So while they head off to get head injuries, Beakly tries to prepare Scrooge as the Media are vultures and looking for the next scandal with public figures and it’s accurate. But given Scrooge’s natural mood is grumpus, this dosen’t go well at all and even a spray bottle dosen’t exactly help.. I mean it is the best method to deal with grumpy old men but it can only do so much. 

At the bin we get a lovely bit as Dewey prepares to dive and his brothers treat it like an olympic one, with both doing commentary, Dewey’s apparently response to if he was worried about brain damage was Nerp, and we get the wonderous national anthem of dewdonia. Just nice as well as lovely to see the brothers just having a crack and enjoying each others company with their own weird injokes but without the injokes feeling as forced as they were in “Beagle Birthday Massacre”. Things take a turn though as we see just what magica created with the stone... a giant shark made of scrooges money who eats that fucker in a single bite.. in this case Dewey. Louie and Huey naturally run off panicked.

So while Huey and Louie gain another scarring memory to tell their therapist when their older, Scrooge begins his interview with Roxanne Fetherly who.. honestly just weirds me out. Not for any personality stuff but because she has green feathers. And it just.. really feels WEIRD. I mean green ducks are a thing in real life.. but it just looks off to have such a pastel color on a duck when the other colors are white or tones meant to invoke real world races, allowing ducks to be black, latino, asian and so on and so on coded. That’s fine and blends in fine.. but with that metaphor the green just really dosen’t fit well at all. It feels like an early decision they made, but decided not to retcon or go with for anyone else which makes it all the more weird. We’re 3 seasons in , almost at the end, and the only other green duck we’ve seen was like that because of magic and the offputting nature of it WORKS for magica. Here I just don’t get it and I never well. But naturally Roxanne starts in on invasive, gotcha questions with no real good answers or time to respond, so fox news level questions, and then asks what part of ireland he’s from. 

Naturally that sets him off so while that rant goes on, literally next time we see him he’s still going on about it, we cut to the girls playing truth or dare.. and given Webby’s first question is about deepest darkest secrets the boys once again save her by running in... to report on the monster she created that just ate their brother. Lena brushes it off but does get them not to go to scrooge claming he’ll throw them to the shark himself. I mean he’s not comics scrooge so he probably woudln’t but their also two scared 11-12 year olds so it works well enough. They just need a way to go after the money shark. Enter launchapd who in the second best bit of the episode, says he sensed his best friend dewey was in danger. Beck’s delivery is what sells it.. and I’m not going to question it. He’s somehow alive despite presumibly living off a diet of spaghett-o’s, barely avoiding a car accident on his best days, and as we’ll find out later believing children in costumes are monsters he summoned when he was 8. The fact he suddenly has spider sense specifically related to people he cares about is honestly less of a surprise than the fact he’s not in heaven crashing God’s Speedboat into God’s Golden Castle with God’s Golden Lion riding shotgun. 

So they do the natural thing and.. steal Donald’s houseboat while he sleeps. He has no more involvement in this episode other than noticing it’s back and not in great condition at the end. I bring this up because this is one of Donalds ONLY apperances this season, and it’s part of the larger more irritating problem that he’s hardly ever used.. despite promoting him as a major part of the series. 

I will talk about this more during the Della arc as i’ts more relevant there, but needless to say it bothers me a lot and not knowing how to ballance it’s massive main cast was a constant struggle for the series even up to the final episodes going on right now. 

So our heroes head out on the bin late at night, where could the Jaw$ be she’s nowhere in sight. So they decide to use other treasure as a lure they either fished out of a bin or out of scrooge’s bathwater. How bathing in coins gets him clean I don’t know and frankly I dont’ think we want the answers to that and the idea of scrooge fully naked is so horrifying I forgot what I was talking about.

Ah yes our heroes are playing bait the money monster and find out it’s a shark, and Lena.. is not okay with that and goes to talk to Magica inside the boat. Magica tells us she has a name, Tiffany. Awww what a lovely name for a money shark. I would of gone with Rags to Bitches, but I may have brain damage.  Lena understandabily does not like the idea of getting eaten by a shark, asked to be informed and while Magica is mad at her for going after the thing, Lena reasonably points out that it was this or Scrooge got involved.  Up top Huey tries catching it with a bit of treasure on a rope.. after not shutting up about shark facts because “Facts comfort me when i’m nervous!” Precious angel. But Huey’s leg gets caught and he and Louie, somehow on the latter get thrown up in the air and chomped. Back bellow Webby has a suggestion: using magic. Lena naturally not wanting to blow her cover or really liking magic period is against it for now. 

Back at the interview, Roxanne brings on a special guest to prove people don’t like scrooge: GLOMGOLD!

Glomgold may create some issues for the subplot and we’ll get to those in due time, but damn if it isn’t always a pleasure to see him. He’s also on good terms with Roxanne... are.. are we sure this is local news and not fox news? Taking the word of a conservative greedy billionare over a progressive one seems like a fox move. Though I might actually watch fox news if glomgold was a commentator.  “I propose a red new deal instead of this blasted green new deal, I throw Scrooge to a tank of sharks connected to a generator, the tank turns red with his blood and that somehow creates power! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT MCDUCK” 

So we get the best bit of the episode as Glomgold tries to complain about his building being destroyed which would be fair... if he hadn’t tried to blow up Scrooge’s bin twice this week, with Glomgold going for THREE.. for threee.. for three... it dosen’t go off but it does get scrooge to say he’s glad the building was destroyed. Which is fair but NOT super great PR.  

Back at the shark things don’t get better as Webby and Lena argue over the use of magic, I mean as much as they can argue Webby just wants to know why she’s so cagey about this while they go with plan “Launchpad crash into it”. Launchpad also gives a hell of a monologue. Good on you bud. As you can see launchpad’s gotten 100% better since his low point in our last episode. That’s because it’s clear the writers had some struggle ballancing his amped up stupidity with actual competence, making him primarily jokey comic relief in the first few episodes and I wouldn’t be shocked if Terror of The Terra Firmians was written before a lot of the later episodes despite airing around the same time. But by mid-season he’s got his much more lovable charactersation of a dangerous moron..l but one who CAN be competent and is genuinely charming due to how much he cares about his friends and his job. They also dialed down the stupid down to an acceptable homer simpson level: still a danger to himself and others but hilariously so. Point is they fixed it and while i’ll complain about mistakes the show made I will give this crew all the credit for course correcting time and time again and actually listening to fan feedback.

So Webby figures they tried the Jaws option and lost the boat and launchpad, time for plan Magic. They hold hands, EEEEEEEEE, and try a spell.. and it clearly starts working but almost works TOO well, as Lena starts glowing first purple.. then blue. Hmmmm... intresteing. Lena breaks it off and Tiffany breaks out of the bin.. just as scrooge says on the news his adventures aren’t dangerous. 

Scrooge naturally goes to face it while Webby wonders why Lena didn’t go for it. To make it a triple Scrooge shows up in time to distract tiffany.. with the number one dime, which as lena found out earlier is on his person rather than at the bin like the public thinks. So while Scrooge puts up a good show.. seriously it’s really awesome and really neat looking, though he also gets VERY upset that people are naturally holding out buckets for the cash shark, which he’s not happy about because well.. he did EARN that money. Most bin money is stuff directly earned by him so fair enough. But while he’s you know, Scrooge Fucking McDuck, and thus puts up a good fight the monster eats him.. and gets the dime stuck in it’s tooth with Magica wanting Lena to grab for it, forgetting that minons, while mildly disposable, aren’t really replaceable when your SOUL’S ATTACHED TO THEM. That’s where Magica’s weakness is. her plans aren’t half bad but as I said, she’s far too bloodthirsty and short sighted. She has better ones than glomgold but ironcially they share the same problem of not thinkign them through. And Magica cares so little for lena she’s blinded to the fact her own personal saftey is tied up in her. 

Lena naturally dives for her future girlfrriend and heads into the belly of the beast. And it’s here her REAL moment of truth is. While the one last episode was noble.. it was also easy enough to brush off internal as pragmatisim. Letting Beakly die would’ve brought too much heat and been too easy to quickly go terrible, while saving her got her off Lena’s trail and gave her free reign of the manner. But here? Webby is about to slip into Tiffany’s stomach and whle she hasn’t digested anyone yet given who made Tiffany with it’s likely just because she hasn’t had enough mass to create chainsaws to carve them all up. It’s the Dime or Webby. Lena’s own freedom or the girl she loves. Nothing good comes from saving Webby.. other than Webby. Other than the one person whose truly loved her. I mean think about it: She was created by magica, abused for a good decade and a half. No one but Magica has had a chance to care about her and as we’ve seen Magica only sees her as a weapon to get back at scrooge and not as a person. Webby was the first person she’s ever made a genuine connection with, that’s been there for her, that loves her unconditionally and woiuld be there for her no matter what. And it’s in that moment Lena realizes she can’t sacrifice her for her own good... that after years of having to be selfish to surivive being chained to that monster... she can’t be this time. No mastter what it costs her.. Webby is priceless. So Lena recites the spell, growing bright blue and blowing up tiffany. Lena gladly hugs webby who reciorpates, awww gaybies, and Launchpad hugs dewey. Awww... what it’s still precious he’s a good surrogate uncle. The wacky kind who sleeps in a van on your lawn. 

So Scrooge is glad.. though it’s here his subplot falls flat. Him getting attacked by the media and getting a compupance by loosing tons of money from tiffany is fine. Evne if he earned it, his lack of care did bring this on him.. hte problem is they take it too far by having all his nemies show up, him unable to say anything and glomgold blatantly doing so just to steal from him. Otherwise the subplot is fine, a bit heavy on scrooge being a dick but it has to to work and puts him in an awkward situation. But this ending just feels to over the top to realy enjoy. And the series does do over the top humor well so I don’t know what happened here. But having a bunch of outright thieves steel his money instad of a bunch of citizens who didn’t know better and deserved it for the damage, feels wrong and it tastes wrong. 

Speaking of feels wrong and tastes wrong we get an INTEINTONAL dose of that as back at the amptheater, Lena and Magica argue about the situation and Magica trying to kill her. Lena tries to walk away but can’t.. phsyically. Magica won’t let her. And this is honestly a very crushing and very well crafted metaphor for how abuse victims sometimes CAN’T escape their abusers. Magica is verbally abusive, treats lena like she’s disposable and constnatly downtalks her self esteem. To Lena magica is nothing but a tool.. but like MANY children caught in horrifcally abusive situations Lena can’t get away. It’s a literal metaphor, an da good one, for how you can’t ALWAYS escape abuse easily, and this especially true for kids who have nowhere to go and hte law on their abusers side more often than not. It’s hard to escape an abusive parent and even harder when they dont’ consider you a person. I thankfully have no personal experince with this but it dosen’t make it any less of a problem nor any less noble of this show to tackle the subject in a frank, if fantastical, way, and a good chunk of Lena’s arc is overcoming this abuse and not letting her abusive past drown her. But for now.. all she can do is agree to do what Magica says till she can hopefully be rid of her. But the light at the end of the tunnel’s coming.. there’s just a whole lotta darkness first. 

Next Time: We take a break from the episodes to cover some Lena related comics for a double feature; The first Spies Like Us has everyones faviorite lesbian ducks go on a spy adventure that was never printed in the us for silly reasons we’lll get to and then the 87 ducktales comic dime after dime which features Lena’s predecessor Minima. 

Later Today: Close Enough Season 2 is here! I”m going to talk about it! Exclimation Points! 

If you liked this review feel free to follow for more. And if you have an episode of Ducktales or another animated show you’d like me to cover just hit me up via my asks or direct messages on here and comission it. And if you’d rather just support me on a monthly basis, head over to my patreon. THE LINK IS RIGHT HERE.  Even a buck a month would help and the more of you that donate the closer we get to my Duckcentric stretch goals. The current closest ones are 15, which would lead to reviews of The Goofy Movies and Treasure of the Lost Lamp, and 20 which would lead both to a review of the Super Ducktales mini series, and monthly darkwing duck reviews! So if you like me talking about ducks and want to bolt some duck reviews to the schedule, even a dollar a month would inch me closer to that goal. Eveyr bit helps. But money or not, it’s been a pleasure and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[hyperpsychomaniac]

Who Says You Can't Go Home - Chapter 10

Darkwing Duck (90s series) fanfiction

Sequel to my recent fanfic The Other Side of Me

Summary: Down on his luck, the Negaverse Launchpad crashes at Launchpad’s parents looking for help. Launchpad, who has avoided visiting his family since he started working with Darkwing, returns in a panic to ensure his double isn’t causing trouble. And then it gets awkward.

Chapter 1

***

The Negaverse Launchpad stayed another two days, until Darkwing called to let them know Negaduck was safely put away, for now, and he was ready to help Launchpad find the portal to send him back to the Negaverse. As much as he didn’t want to leave so soon something torn up and long buried inside had tugged at him ever since he’d made his declaration to Negaduck, telling him it was time to return home to his true family. Not that this universe’s McQuacks had not been like family to him. And that’s what made saying goodbye so hard.

Though she had only known him a few days Loopey hugged him tightly. “Don’t forget to tell that sister of yours how awesome I am too.” She’d asked him many questions about his Loopey. It had been simply curiosity, but it had helped Launchpad dig up the good memories he had of his sister, the things he hadn’t messed up. It had given him hope that, once he returned to the Negaverse and found her, she just might not tear him to shreds.

Launchpad hugged him next. He held him for a long moment, crushing him against his chest. When he pushed him back his brow was furrowed. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright over there?”

The Negaverse Launchpad grinned and clapped his double on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy. You’re not abandoning me. You didn’t the first time either. This time, I think I might just have a bit more of an idea what I’m doing. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know how easy those portal things are to find, or get going. But if you ever need help, me and DW are just one universe over.”

Birdie grasped the Negaverse Launchpad’s hands, and sniffed. “Be careful over there, baby. We’re going to miss you.”

“Aw, Mrs McQuack.” Launchpad wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll be alright. At least you know I’m not going to get all angry and pick stupid fights I don’t need to now. You guys, and your son, you taught me that.”

Birdie smiled up at him, her eyes watery. “You are literally going over there to join a resistance. Sounds like you’re picking a pretty big fight to me, but…” she said, as he opened his mouth to protest. “At least its for a good reason. You put that Negaduck in his place. Just be careful. Oh, and this is for you.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a packet, and handed it to him.

Launchpad unfolded the enclosing flap with a frown. It was only when he pulled out the small stack of photographs that he realised what they were. Photographs were not non-existent in the Negaverse. Often you simply had other concerns, like survival, that took precedent over the taking and hoarding of sentimental keepsakes. “You want me to have these?” His voice caught over the lump that had risen to his throat.

“Most are just ones of the family I dug up and I thought you might like to remember us by. But…”

Launchpad carefully shuffled through them, and came to the two as Birdie spoke.

“… I did manage to snap a couple of you and Ripcord when you were working on that plane together. You were both so absorbed talking to each other and positively covered in grease, I couldn’t resist. I thought you’d like them.”

“Are you sure?”

Birdie winked. “I have more than enough photos of my husband covered in grease.”

Launchpad and Loopey both winced. “Mom!”

“You got doubles?” Ripcord asked his wife.

“Of course. And I always keep the film.”

Launchpad slipped the photos into his jacket, and turned to Ripcord. He and Mrs McQuack had done so much for him since he’d crashed onto their front lawn and he didn’t know what to say to the man who against what had to be all better judgment had taken him under his wing. Heck he’d actually cared about him enough to get riled up and confront Negaduck, no matter how reckless that had been. No one had ever done that for him, and it had never even occurred to Launchpad that someone should. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry and void of words.

But it didn’t matter, because Ripcord took him by the shoulders and all but dragged him around to face him. “Hey, look at me, son. I don’t care how anyone thinks they have a right to treat you like. You deserve to be respected, and loved, and if you ever can’t find that over in the Negaverse, even if you can’t make your way back to us, I want you to remember you will always have that here. You got that?”

Tears filled Launchpad’s eyes. He threw his arms around Ripcord’s neck, breath hitching in his throat. “You guys have just… thanks for being my Mom and Dad these past few months. I love you both.”

The Negaverse Launchpad climbed into the Thunderquack’s cockpit, where Gosalyn waited for him. He waved to the McQuack’s with her, then focused on starting up the powerful aeroplane. All had had to do was get the blasted thing up into the air and leave. He could do this. An ache tugged at his chest as the McQuack family swung out of view. He wiped hastily at the corner of his eyes as they pulled up into the air, and he did not look behind him.

“Hey,” Gosalyn squeezed his arm. “You okay? I mean, you’re not going to crash or something?”

Launchpad grinned. “Come on, kiddo. You know I never crash.”

Gosalyn threw out her arms. “You literally showed me the skid mark where you crashed when you go here!”

“Had a broken arm. Didn’t count.”

“But…”

“Now, come on, we can’t waste time arguing like this. Your dad knows we’re leaving now, right? I reckon if I go full tilt we can get you home before he starts to worry, but still have plenty of time to get into some mischief. What do you want to do?”

A grin slowly spread across Gosalyn’s face.

***

The McQuack’s spent the next few days repairing their front hallway from the gashes Negaduck had hacked into it with his chainsaw. DIY was not beyond them, although they were all better at repairing aeroplanes, and the damage was quickly patched up. Birdie hadn’t quite trusted their skill with the kitchen however, and she and Ripcord had decided they would get it replaced professionally.

Now they were all in the living room, sorting through the photos Negaduck had knocked down. As the whole family was finally together, it was the perfect opportunity to see if they could dig up any different ones to put up. Some had been completely destroyed but, luckily, Birdie had many spares. She’d tugged out a number of large boxes from various cupboards around the house, and added them to the photos already there.

Launchpad sat next to his father on the sofa, his leg almost touching his. Ripcord had taken every opportunity to sit close to his son, sometimes almost awkwardly. It was kind of sweet, but also didn’t help Launchpad’s worry for his dad. He knew he hadn’t intended to put him in danger and had nothing to try make up for. All he could think of doing had been to give his father a quick squeeze around the shoulders, just to let him know he wasn’t uncomfortable with him being close to him like when he’d first arrived, and hope it would eventually sink in that his son was still there.

Birdie rushed past them, and opened another cupboard. Despite the half dozen boxes scattered around, she had insisted on continuing the search. Apparently she hadn’t found them all yet.

Ripcord sighed. “Honey, I think we’ve got plenty here to go through already.”

“I’m looking for something specific… yes!” She came back, not with a box, but a single photograph folder clutched to her chest. It was old, and yellowing, and far from pelting it onto the table like she had the other loose folders she’d found, she cradled it carefully.

Ripcord frowned. “They heck are those? Wedding photos or something?”

Birdie pressed the folder into her husband’s hands, but held on, stopping him from opening it right away. “We don’t have to put this up if seeing it upsets you. But, well, I had these stashed.” She sniffed. “I mean, you threw away the first prints, so…”

Ripcord gently took the folder from her and opened it.

Launchpad leaned over his father’s shoulder. “Dad, why’d you throw away photos?”

“I didn’t realise you knew I’d pitched them,” Ripcord said thickly.

“Of course I did, silly. This is why I always keep the film.”

Launchpad watched as his father shuffled through them, slowly, with a faint shake in his hands. At first, there seemed nothing remarkable about the photographs, save that they were quite old. Photos, many of Loopey of a baby, and of the family, and of him when he would have been about five. Ripcord stopped as he revealed one of him in the cockpit of a small plane that Launchpad couldn’t remember, on the ground, with one very excited five year old strapped to his lap.

Ripcord sniffed, putting a hand to his beak. Then he leaned over into Launchpad’s shoulder and held the photos where his son could easily see. Launchpad grabbed the photo’s edge, his hand touching his father’s. “Launchpad,” Ripcord said, his voice wavering, “You don’t remember this… but… this is the first time… I took you up in an aeroplane. That, that was the day…”

Launchpad put an arm around his father’s shoulders. “Dad, it’s okay. We already talked about this.”

Ripcord looked at his son and, with tears in his eyes, smiled. “That was the day you asked me to teach you to be a pilot.”

***

The Negaverse. One month later.

It was hard to appear non-threatening when you straight up waltzed into the secret headquarters of the resistance formed against your former boss. Especially when he had declared you dead.

A dozen weapons leaped out of jackets and holsters, muzzles tilted up to train upon their target. Launchpad towered over the ragtag group of fighters, and as he eyed them all slowly, the corner of his beak twitching up into a scowl. Man, Loopey was really scraping the bottom of the barrel here.

When he’d been unable to immediately locate Gosalyn, Launchpad had started searching for his sister. He’d trailed the resistance’s attacks on Negaduck’s proprieties and equipment, but when he spoke with anyone who had seen Loopey’s operatives in action, or even helped them, none could tell him where her cell was. If they knew, they hadn’t been keen to share with someone who had worked for Negaduck. And no matter how nicely he’d asked, his lack of aggression only seemed to confuse people more.

Frustrated, he’d eventually caught one of the operatives. It had sent a thrill through him to find him wearing a Darkwing costume. He’d scared the hell out of the poor guy with how excited he’d got, and his catch had flat out clammed up when he’d asked about Gosalyn. Where Loopey’s headquarters were, however, he seemed less keen to put his life on the line to protect. Not that Launchpad had used anything he’d learned from Negaduck to weasel it out of him. The threat had been enough, and even then he hadn’t made any actual threats, just paced and muttered to himself about what he was going to do with his captured prey until he’d cracked.

One of the fighters edged forward. Quackerjack was still dressed in the Darkwing costume Launchpad had last seen him in, when he’d found him and the other three in the company of Gosalyn. “Alright, playtime’s over. Put him down, nice and slow.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Launchpad had completely forgotten he still clutched Megavolt by the collar, his feet swinging clear of the floor. He set him down, gently. “I didn’t hurt him,” he said, for whatever that was worth. His reputation was preceding him, and whilst that had been helpful prying information from Megavolt, it was not serving him well now.

Megavolt stayed at Launchpad’s feet, trembling.

“Get over here, you idiot,” Quackerjack muttered with a wave of his rifle.

Megavolt bolted over and hid behind him. “He took my hat!”

“I didn’t… you dropped it!” Launchpad closed his eyes briefly, then raised his empty hands slowly. “I don’t want any trouble. I’ve come to see the Pink Baroness.”

“Yeah?” said Quackerjack. “On who’s orders?”

“No ones. I’m done with Negaduck.”

The fighters all exchanged looks. Some of the weapons lowered.

“Alright. But keep those hands where I can see them. No funny business. And, guys, check him for weapons.”

It took nearly a full minute for anyone to work up the courage to approach him. After much whispering, it was decided the safest option was for everybody to, simultaneously, pat him down. This resulted in far more pawing than Launchpad was comfortable with. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and kept his hands raised. If this had been before he’d left the Negaverse he would’ve snapped within seconds. As it was he could feel his jaw gritting tighter and tighter until, finally, someone declared: “I think he’s clean.”

“You’re sure?” asked Quackerjack.

“Pretty sure you’ve checked every crevice,” Launchpad growled.

Loopey’s fighters led him deeper into the warehouse. With every weapon trained upon him, which true to Negaverse standards included a fair number of rocket launchers, Launchpad really hoped a rat or something didn’t startle anyone.

Megavolt pushed open a door. A long table took up the middle of the room, a miniature Saint Canard set upon it. Some of it was actual scale models of buildings and vehicles, some simply tin cans and bits of rubbish pressed into service. A bright fluorescent light swung overhead, throwing shifting shadows across the half dozen resistance fighters crowded about the setup.

Bushroot leaned in and poked a leafy tendril at what Launchpad assumed was one of Saint Canard’s sad excuses for a park. “I know there’s not a lot of stuff still alive, but I should be able to coax the poor little fellas into helping us pull down Negaduck’s hanger.”

“Yeah, this is good. We’ll teach that selfish creep to close off ‘his’ airspace.” She still wore her worn and weathered pink jacket, torn off at the sleeves like her brothers, revealing bare arms. Her jeans were black, but the pink showed up again in her worn and greasy steel toed boots. Her hair was a cut in a mohawk, tipped in pink, and she’d never cared a damn that most folks thought pink a ‘weak’ colour. She’d soon set them straight.

“Loopey…” Her name slipped from Launchpad’s beak on a breath before he knew it.

His sister shielded her eyes as as she looked past the bright light. “Someone tell this joker I don’t go by that name any…” She stiffened, then took the cigar from her beak and snuffed it out in the ash tray beside her, never taking her eyes from her brother. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Launchpad gulped. “I’ve been looking for you. I’ve come to join your resistance.”

“You’re supposed to be dead. You selfish…” Loopey stomped towards him and her resistance fighters parted before her. Her fist flashed out like a snake and Launchpad barely registered the pink studded gloves, a new addition to her outfit, before they ripped across his beak. “… bastard. How dare you come here!”

Launchpad hissed and clapped his hands to his face. The blow stung; he could taste copper in the back of his throat. He drew in deep breaths, eyes squeezed tightly shut, until the pain lessened to a manageable level. When he looked up, Loopey had her fists raised. Her fighters’ weapons were again trained on him. Because no one in the Negaverse would let a cheap shot like that go without fighting back. Launchpad wiped his arm across his beak with a sniff, then let his hands drop to his sides and stared his sister down.

A frown creased Loopey’s beak. “You must think I’m an idiot. You realise how this looks, right? Negaduck says your dead. Then you rock up here, pretending you want to help? You were his right hand man.”

“I know,” he said thickly. “And I don’t know how to prove to you I’ve changed, but…”

“Launchpad!” Everyone jumped, which was rather concerning with so many weapons in play. A small something darted nimbly between the fighters, followed by a looping tendril of water.

“Now, just wait… you can’t… Gosalyn!” Liquidator gurgled. He wrapped watery arms around his charge just as she reached the front of the crowd, but she exploded through before he could nab her.

All that time searching, especially as he hadn’t been able to locate Gosalyn quickly, and without the support he’d had when he was staying with the McQuacks, had been taxing. Launchpad had questioned his resolve, his ability, and if he really could accomplish his mission without resorting to some of his old Negaverse ways. All he’d wanted was to find someone he knew, despite all his failures, would be there for him. His heart rose in his throat, his knees buckled and he dropped, arms flung open wide.

Gosalyn barreled into him with such force it knocked Launchpad back and he sat down hard on the concrete floor. “You’re alive!”

“Gos.” Launchpad buried his face in her hair. “Aw, kiddo. I’m so, so sorry for abandoning you. And not being there for you with Negaduck, and… I wish I’d been stronger for you.”

“Launchpad, none of that was your fault.”

Oh, how he’d missed that incorruptible little face. “I know. But I’m gonna make it up to you, promise.”

“Alright, wise guy, let our daughter go right now.” Megavolt had recovered from his kidnapping ordeal. He stood over them, electricity playing at his fingertips, alongside Bushroot, Quackerjack, and Liquidator. They loomed over him to form an impressive front of very, very angry guardians.

“Dads!” Gosalyn wrapped her arms around Launchpad’s neck. “It’s just Launchpad. He won’t hurt me.”

They backed down, but still hovered close. Damn. Darkwing had certainly picked the right carers for Gosalyn.

Gosalyn stayed protectively in front of him, but climbed off his lap so he could sit up. She put a hand to his cheek. “Are you okay? Wait, who hit you?”

Loopey hid her bloodied knuckles behind her back. “I thought you were dead. Why do you think I…” she swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. “Where have you been all this time?”

“In the other universe.”

“Wait, you saw Darkwing Duck?!” The four copy-cats exploded.

“Did he say anything about us?” Megavolt added, hopefully.

Launchpad slowly stood to his feet. Gosalyn stayed clamped to his arm. He wasn’t sure if she’d just missed him, or she was staying there to protect him. “Loopey, a lot went on over there. But long story short, I realised I don’t need Negaduck anymore.”

“Negaduck wasn’t very nice to him,” said Gosalyn. “I’m glad you left. He didn’t have any right to treat you the way he did.”

“I know, and he doesn't have any right to treat anyone in Saint Canard the same way. And I was a part of that.” Launchpad looked back to his sister. “That’s why I gotta make it right. I know I have to earn back your trust first. But I need to stand up to Negaduck, and I need your help for that, and… I just want us to be a family again, sis.” Tears filled his eyes, and you just didn’t break down in front of a heavily armed resistance and show that kind of weakness, but Launchpad no longer gave a damn. “Please, Loopey. I’ll do whatever you ask, just don’t put me out.”

Loopey stared at him for a long time. “Sure you can take orders from your little sister?”

“I’m good at taking orders.”

“Good. You can start by cleaning toilets. After a week or two of that we’ll see how trustworthy you are.”

There were a couple snickers from the fighters. As well as one ‘oh thank god’, presumably from the last poor sucker who’d had that job. It was still better than what Launchpad had expected, which was to get punched in the face a lot more than once.

“Come on, I’ll get you patched up. And lower those weapons! You’re all so jumpy, you’ll put someone’s eyes out. If he tries anything I’ll just punch him again, now move it.” Loopey waved her way through the fighters, dragging Launchpad behind her until she was clear. Then she turned to face him and squeezed both his hands. “Are you okay?”

“You didn’t hit me that hard. It’s alright. I’ll just spar you later, you know, only if you’re okay with that.”

Loopey frowned at him, then shook her head. “I did, and I’m sorry. I forgot I was wearing these.” She waved a hand. “But that’s not what I meant. Launchpad, what the hell happened to you over there? You’re different.”

“A lot. I don’t know where to start.”

“I’m glad your done with Negaduck. Gosalyn told me how he treated you and…” Loopey’s hands tightened in his. “I thought he’d killed you. Why the hell do you think I started all this? But now you’re back and you’re all…” She trailed off and gulped hard.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m still here. All I wanted was to find you and Gos. You’re my family, and there’s a bunch of stuff I have to tell you, but… you know, like Mom and Dad always said, we’ve got to protect each other. I know I failed at that, and I’m sorry for the way I treated you over the years. I’m going to do better.”

Loopey made sure none of her fighters were watching them, then she threw her arms around Launchpad and buried her face against his chest. “You had better be on the level with me, big brother.”

Launchpad sagged into her arms. He was home.

***

Author's Note:

Fun fact. When I was plotting the sequel to this, I originally intended Nega Launchpad to fall off the Audubon Bridge and drown (and LP to try and save him cause he’s a nice guy). Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t.

This turned out a bit hectic… somehow I ended up writing about abuse and that was… interesting. Negaduck is a jerk. And its weird editing something to try and make a particular character be just the right bit of nasty, whilst simultaneously wanting to throat punch them.

Ripcord got a bit more than he deserved, poor guy. I’d intended to have his and LPs backstory, and, yeah, that was going to be upsetting for him. And then have him lose it over Negaduck mistreating Nega LP and go after him with a shot gun and for that Not to Turn Out Well. But I didn’t realise that Launchpad was going to get in the way until I was writing that part and… yeah, having your adult kid nearly die after you’ve just dug up all those memories of, you know, nearly killing your kid when they were a kid and how this sent you into a depressive spiral. Flip, Ripcord, I’m sorry.

But I am really happy with Nega LPs character arc. Kind of proud of the dirtbag. And when I get back to writing some original fiction and characters (which this has completely distracted me from)… yeah, really hope I can do something as good.

Please leave me a review or comment if you’ve read this. I do enjoy feedback and will usually try to respond. Thanks for reading!

[vivilove-jonsa]

Halloween prompt 😁: "we have to run, now!".

Hello, my dear!  Thank you for the prompt.  This turned out different than my original thoughts on this one but have a little Halloween Haunted Corn Maze Fluff.

(and just fyi for others, I afraid I won’t be able to do any more prompts for a bit after this one)

**

Halloween night.  What on earth had made her agree to this?

Pride.  

Oh yeah.

Look, it’s not like she doesn’t love her siblings.  She does.

But sometimes, they have a knack for making Sansa feel like an outsider in her own family.  It’s not intentional but a lot of the stuff she likes just doesn’t appeal to the others and vice versa.  

And one thing they all seem to love which Sansa does not is scary stuff.  Horror movies, haunted houses, Halloween stuff.  

Even Jon, who isn’t technically a sibling but gets treated like one by everyone else, has more in common with them than Sansa does, it seems.  

So, when she’d asked Arya what she was doing this Saturday night, not remembering that it was October 31st and therefore Halloween, she’d been told she was going to the corn maze.

“A corn maze?  Who’s going?”

“Me and Gendry are going to meet Robb and Jon who are taking Bran, Rickon and some friends there.”

“The boys are going too?”

Their little brothers are still underage so it wasn’t the usual Saturday night pub crawl that Sansa has occasionally joined the others in.  (Which she’s joined them for more frequently since breaking up with her boyfriend three months ago.)  

“Yeah.”

“Well, it sounds fun…”  

She’d let that linger, waiting to see if her sister would extend an invitation.  Her stomach had knotted up at the thoughts that the offer might not come but Arya hadn’t let her down, not exactly.

“Right.  Well, you’re welcome to come.  There’s a pumpkin patch or hayride if you want to wait for us there.”

“Why would I want to go on a hayride alone?  And who’s picking pumpkins on Halloween night?  Won’t all the pumpkins be picked?”  (Honestly, she’d be very sad if there were any pumpkins left behind and would want to take them with her.)

“But…Sans, it’s a haunted corn maze.  I don’t think it’ll be your thing.”  

Thus, Pride had had its say and insisted that of course she would enjoy going to a haunted corn maze on Halloween and how dare anyone suggest otherwise.

Alright, she’d looked wistfully at the little shed where they were selling popcorn, caramel apples and hot apple ciders upon their arrival.  She might have even sighed seeing the young couples wearing gloves with rosy cheeks climbing onto the haybales for their hayride.  But she’d marched determinedly up to the booth ahead of everyone else to buy her ticket first because Sansa Stark is not a fraidy cat.

Which has led to her current predicament.

“We have to run, now!” Rickon shouts as the chainsaw-wielding murderer gets closer.

Yes, part of her agrees. Her fight or flight instincts are kicking in with flight winning.  Every hair on her head is standing on end.  Why does a power tool get to have that level of impact on my psyche when I’ve never even seen that movie?!

But running doesn’t seem like the answer to her logical mind.  They’re all together, a pack.  That’s how they’d got past the zombies after their first wrong turn.  They’d been hemmed in until Jon had spied the exit path. They’d shuffled along as one with Sansa and Rickon’s friend Shireen doing their best to be as much in the middle of their group as possible.  (Clearly, the girl was scared and wanted to hold Sansa’s hand, okay?)  Anyway, they’d out-shuffled those zombies and been in the clear for five whole minutes before this Leatherface guy showed up.  

So, that is obviously the solution here.  They should stick together, not take off in the middle of a huge ass corn maze in the dark in three different directions.

Unfortunately, that’s precisely what Rickon and his friends do.  

“No, we don’t need to run! Kids, we’re…ugh!”

Robb shouts after them as well to no avail.  “Rickon Stark, if you don’t get your ass back here this second I am never taking you and your friends anywhere ever a-…shit.”  They now have three 12-years-olds to hunt down in the middle of a corn maze.  “Okay, Arya and Gendry take this path.  Bran, you come with me down that one.  Jon, you and Sansa look for them that way.”

Sansa tries not to grimace.  It’s not a grimace of distaste.  It’s a grimace of something else.  Based on the way Jon scowls, she knows she didn’t succeed in not grimacing.  Well, he was already scowling.  Scowling is kind of a go-to look for him in social settings.  (Don’t tell but it’s a surprisingly good look on him.)

“Fine.  Come on,” he mutters, leading the way with one of the three flashlights they’d brought between them.

It’s not that she dislikes Jon.  She hopes he doesn’t dislike her though they’ve never been as close as he is with the others. She’d like to be closer maybe.  In fact, she’s teetering pretty firmly in the opposite direction of dislike, has been for the past month or so since she’d got over her break up (nothing that serious anyway) and started spending more time with him and the others on Saturday nights.  

Yeah, Robb sniggers when she orders her daquiris instead of the ales they all drink but Jon doesn’t. He’s really pretty sweet about fetching drinks and often offers to give her a lift home.  He’s actually kind of funny when he loosens up a bit, too.  

But he’s Jon.  He’s known her since she was three.  Those little flutters she’s starting to notice around him are obviously the effect of the alcohol, right?

Except you’ve not had anything to drink tonight.  

So, why the grimace? Well, because she likes Jon and she’s already a little afraid of embarrassing herself out here which means it’s bound to happen.

Maybe I should’ve just rode the hayride alone.  I could’ve saved all the unloved pumpkins and stuffed them in the back of Robb’s SUV, too.    

They set off down one of the paths, the mowed down corn stalks and mud squishing beneath their boots while they’re surrounded on all sides.  She’s glad they’ve got a full moon.  It’s a blue moon.  They’re already rare but on Halloween?  That seems pretty special.  It’d feel romantic in other circumstances.

Like side by side on a hayride.  He might offer me his jacket and…

Ugh, would you stop? You’re not on a date with Jon.  

“Ow!  Will you watch it?!”

She’d been staring up at the moon and hadn’t realized Jon had come to a halt.  She’s run right into his back, her boots catching his own boot-covered ankles.  He’s more solid than you’d think just looking at him.  He also smells good…and she’s a clumsy dork.  

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”  He’s looking around, listening.

“What is…”  

She doesn’t get the rest of her sentence out because someone has grasped her arm.

Someone who isn’t Jon.

She’s screaming bloody murder and there’s maniacal laughter coming from the close-packed stalks that surround them.  Yes, they’d been told they might be lightly touched by performers during their ‘experience.’ They’d had to sign waivers that they agreed to that and that they wouldn’t physically retaliate.  Sansa is not remotely a violent person but, right now, she’s ready to knock the living daylights out of whoever grabbed her arm.

She’s pulled herself into the middle of the path, not that it’s that wide, and is hugging herself and shaking once the hand lets go of her.  

“Hey, it’s okay.  Let’s move this way,” Jon says, pulling her down the path away from whoever that was hiding back in the corn.  

He thinks he has to protect her, like she’s some little girl who can’t handle a scare.

She mutters she’s fine.  She is fine but also embarrassed.  And yeah, there’s the chainsaw in the distance again and this whole experience is making her jumpy.  It may be a bit obvious.  

“Why’d you come tonight?”

“Huh?”  She’d been walking along, lost in her thoughts.  She glances over at Jon and it clicks what he asked.  “I don’t know.  I like hanging out with everyone.”

“We like you hanging out with us but I didn’t think a haunted corn maze would be your thing.”

“It’s not.  I just thought…”  She sighs.  “I just didn’t want to be left behind.”

He nods thoughtfully. “It’s okay if you don’t enjoy stuff like this.”

“But everyone else does.”

“You don’t have to be everyone, Sansa.  You’re perfect the way you are.”

She raises her eyebrows, grinning at him.  “I’m perfect?”

“Don’t let that go to your head.” He starts grinning back.  His grins are even hotter than his scowls.  

“Thanks, Jon.”

“And I wouldn’t have left you behind.  I mean if…” He scrubs at his beard, looking a little embarrassed himself.  “I would’ve stuck with you outside the maze while everyone did this.”

“You would?!”  He would?!  

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t want to hold you back from having a good time with everyone else.”

“I’ve done corn mazes before.  You wouldn’t be holding me back from having a good time.  Not that I’m much company or…”

“GARRRRR!!!  MU-WAH-HAHA!!!”

A horrific looking clown comes out of the corn right behind them…carrying a huge freaking axe?!  

And we’re screaming again, she notes internally as she grasps Jon’s arm.

The thing is, he’s shouting, too.  “We need to run, now!”  

He half drags her along but she’s not complaining.  She’s too busy trying not to hyperventilate.  

They run until they run out of path.  They run until they’re both laughing at themselves and each other for running.  They run until they realize they’re surrounded by the warmth of glowing lights and cute carved pumpkins instead of corn with the smell of apple cider and popcorn in the air.  They’ve escaped the maze.

Rickon and his friends are all sitting together at one of the nearby tables, eating caramel apples and popcorn in huge bites.  Her little brother laughs when she attempts to scold him for running off, saying he figured everyone else could find their own way out.  “I mean, we found our way and we’re just kids.”  

“Should we go back in and look for the others?” Jon asks her.

“No, they can find their way out, can’t they?”

Surely, they can.  Besides, she’s got a few unloved pumpkins to save. Jon doesn’t say a peep.  Just helps her load them into the back of Robb’s SUV.

“I love toasted pumpkin seeds.”

“Me, too.”

And when her and Jon decide to go on the hayride after sharing some apple cider a short time later, Sansa decides she hopes it takes them a little longer to find their way out of the maze.  Especially when Jon drapes his jacket over her shoulders as they hold hands under the full blue moon.  

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hewitts / Pleasant Valley x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: The Multiverse Theory and the Horror Fandom 

Notes: 

I don't really know what it is, but I enjoyed creating it, so I’m posting it! If I get an idea as to what might happen next, I’ll probably add a part two. 

Its crack

Plot: 

Okay, you are from this universe and you are your Slasher fucker self. But you’re transported from your home, to the universe that the Slashers live in, specifically 2003 Texas Chainsaw Massacre. They capture you of course and decide to keep you.

Now the Hewitt’s have decided to go on a roadtrip and are of course taking you, their hostage, with them.

They end up staying in Pleasant Valley, despite your warnings not to. 

Warnings: Mention of real life people, breaking of the 3rd wall, if you look then there is some hints towards sexual assault cursing. Its comedy though mostly, so its pretty okay

~~~

“We’re lost.”

“No, mama, we not lost. We’re just taking the scenic route… “Hoyt transparently bullshits, looking around completely lost at the surroundings that we pass at a 100 km/h. Nothing but wheat fields and cows as far as the eye can see. Georgia is even more boring then Texas had been.

Luda Mae rolls her eyes, not taking any his shit after 6 hours in the car with him just today. God, I’m on her side. Can we stop somewhere just for a little bit? I mean, I don’t have to pee anymore since I held it for so long that the urge went away, but I’d still like to try because now I feel like I’m going to explode at any time. “So, we’re lost.” She announces, leaving no room for argument.

“Definitely lost… “Monty, in the seat beside me in the back seat of Hoyt’s tiny sheriff car, agrees with his sister, also watching the fields go by moodily. Why didn’t we take the goddamn truck, anyway? I would rather be tied to top of that, then squished back here between Thomas and Monty. I mean, there’s not even any doorhandles in the back here! Why did I have to be in the middle? Its not like I’m going to throw myself out the window! Sometimes I think Hoyt’s paranoid. And I hate him. And his ego’s too big.

Of course, Hoyt snaps back at Monty even though what he said was so mellow. It certainly didn’t have the amount of pent up frustration that Luda Mae’s had behind it. “We ain’t lost, goddamn it- Look! There’s a town. We’ll stop there and ask for directions if you really want. Just to make sure we’re going the right way, which I’m sure we are.” I look up from my hands, bruises all over the wrists from Hoyt and the ropes, and cuts all over the fingers from cooking with Luda Mae… and jagged fingernails from before I gave up. When I was still scratching at the walls and floor and Thomas, wanting to escape this mad family.

My fighting spirit isn’t completely crushed, now… but it has been a while since I screamed for help. I’m waiting for the moment, the right moment to try and escape. Of course, I don’t know if that moment will every come… but I still hope. And that’s something.

Now, looking up out the front window to see the town Hoyt’s talking about, I wonder if this will be the place that I’ll escape in.

Then we rush past the sign and I do a double take.

What did that say?!

I glance at Thomas, my designated warden to see what he’s doing now since he had been sleeping for most of today’s trip- yesterday he had stayed awake and alert, but today it seems that he decided I wasn’t about to crawl over anyone and creep through the window so it was cool to nap,- to see he’s alert, and when I look at him he turns to look at me back. I flash him a fake smile and turn to Monty, because he speaks. And he’s on the right side of the car, so he would have seen the sign.

“Hey, what did that sign say?”

“Why are they talking again?” Hoyt pipes up in the front as we get nearer to the town and I start to feel sick in my stomach. I raise my eyebrows at Monty instead of answering Hoyt’s goad.

Monty shrugs, leaning his back on his hand and looking out the window again. “Uh, Pleasant Valley.”

Oh my god.

It cannot be possible that more then one Horror movie exists in this world… right? I’ve been through enough trauma; I do not need to endure Robert Englund’s trademark craziness- oH, or Bill Mosely’s either. Oh god, - and his band of confederate lunatics. Do not do this to me, universe.

My heart’s beating faster then a bullet train as I wait, still as a statue and straight backed, for any more hints that I am where I think I am.

Thomas watches me with a hard stare, alert and suspicious about my odd change in posture and body language. I try to ignore him, which is of course hard, but I make do.

Then we start to pass people in this town, and they’re men in overalls and women in the most era-incorrect costumes I have ever seen. And they’re smiling and waving at us.

And I feel sick, and sink back into my seat so nobody outside can see me through Monty or Thomas, hopefully.

“Hoyt,” I call, quietly for the ‘sheriff’s’ attention. My voice doesn’t lift even to a normal volume, I’m so scared so he either ignores me or really doesn’t hear me. I try to be louder. “Hoyt!”

“Yes, hostage?”  

“I think we’re going the right way as well; I saw sign on the road a few miles back that said so. We should just keep going.”

“What?!” Luda Mae turns in her seat to look at me furrow her eyebrows- she doesn’t believe me one bit. “What are you doing, slouching in the back like that? Sit up!”

“Are we stopping?”

“Uhh… “She turns to look at Hoyt, and he nods. “Looks like it. About time, too. I need to stretch my legs, and we obviously need those damn directions.”

“We do not need the- “Hoyt sighs, exasperated, then furrows his eyebrows as he focuses on something in front of the car. “What the fuck are these wackos all doing out there in the middle of the road? Get outta my way… “

Mow them over, Hoyt! MOW THEM OVER.

Of course, he slows to a crawl and then a stop, and I thank god that the back windows don’t open, lest I feel any more in danger. If they were open, I definitely would have feared scary ghost cannibals would stick in their hands. As it is, cross my arms and let Hoyt do the talking. Of course, I mean. What else could I do?

I can see full frontal the mess that we’re getting into, which once upon a time in a different world -my world. Oh, how I wish I was there right now, - would have been a good sign. Seeing Kane Hodder, Robert Englund and Lin Shaye and the ‘Guts and Glory Jubilee’ banner would be a sign I’m about to have a good night full of horror movie enjoyment and probably fanfiction as well. But now I see it and I wish to never watch that movie again, much like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise.

Hoyt puts his hand on the car door handle next to him. “No, no, no, don’t get outta the car!” I exclaim, quietly and reaching to grab him back but he looks over at me, gives me a ‘I do what I want’ kind of look and then gets out of the car.

“Good afternoon, sheriff! Welcome to our Guts and Glory Jubilee! You’re our honoured guests!”

Oh, dear god.

Hoyt slams his car door shut and Luda and I wince at the sudden noise. “What the hell are you people doing out here in the middle of the road??! Me and my family are tryna get through here.”

“Aw, my bad sheriff! We’re just so tickled to have you with us this fine day!” Buckman doesn’t seem stirred that Hoyt’s clearly southern, and therefore ‘confederate’, like him, as far as he’s concerned which is what I was hoping for, so I decide to blow this whole situation out of water- I have no choice.

And what, in hell’s name, could I possibly lose at this point?

I lean forward in the car, keeping an eye on the scene, to talk to Luda Mae. “Hey, so this may be a bad time to mention this but, uh.” How do I break this news? “Well, I’m from a different universe. That multiverse noise? That’s real. Anyway, more importantly, I’m from a world in which you and your sons, and Monty, are just movie characters. Your movie is called ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’, Thomas is the Texan Chainsaw guy and he is called Leatherface.” Luda’s slowly turning her head to look at me like have 7 eyeballs. I keep talking through, quickly ad feverishly, desperate. “I know it sounds crazy, and you can ask me any question about ya’ll’s passed if you want as proof but just get your son back in this car please. This place also has its own movie, and its even less pretty then what goes on in your house.” I look pleadingly at her, hoping to God, by some miracle she believes me.

“Sit back down!! I’ve been in a car with 3 sweatin’, stinky men for 6 hours now today and I am in no mood for your stories.” She turns back in her seat. “God.”  

“Oh Jesus, you said it… “ I whine, plopping back down in my seat, looking at Hoyt and Buckman who have now met in front of the car and aren’t yelling at each other across the road and immediately assume the fucking confederate mayor is successfully feeding the fucking fraudulent sheriff’s ego, and drop my face into my hands. A few minutes pass, and I stay like this, occasionally making frustrated crying sounds without really crying, and getting annoyed groans and ‘shut up’s from Monty beside me, until a hit to the car jolts me up. “What! What? What’s happening- are they attacking!?”

Everyone who heard, ignores me and I see it’s just Hoyt coming around the car opening Thomas’ side. Oh god, breeze has neve felt so terrifying. “Come on out, family. We’re stayin’ the night! I can’t tolerate settin’ in this car with you people anymore.” On no. No, no, no. STAYING?

Thomas gets out and Luda Mae follows, opening Monty’s door for him and letting him out onto his wheelchair that Thomas gets out of the trunk for him and unfolds. I cross my arms and stay inside. When Hoyt realises this, he leans down to peer inside the car at me and thrusts a thumb to point behind him. Slowly, menacingly he drawls. “Get out of this car.”

Oh, what is he going to do? What could he possibly do that he hasn’t already done to me.

I stubbornly look away. “You said family, I’m not family. I’m not leaving this car, no way. You can’t make me.”

“You wanna bet, sugar?”

He reaches in, wraps a calloused hand around one of my arms and starts pulling me until I topple out of the car, into the dirt. He lets go of me and immediately slams the car door closed again so I don’t slither back in.

“Fuck.” I mutter, glaring up at him from the floor. He locks the car in front of my eyes.

“Now, when you’re feeling more like an adult and not a child, you can come on to our room- that building over there. “ I feel like running after him when he walks off to the building, but before I can get myself out of the dusty, beige dirt, a hand enters my vision and I follow it up and scream on the inside. Mayor George Fucking Buckman.

He smiles so charmingly… you could nearly believe he isn’t depraved. Then I see the eyepatch and I’m reminded. “Would you let me help you up outta the dirt, little miss?”

Mmmm, I guess.

Best to stay on his good side, I think as I take his hand and he hauls me up. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of one of those glares that the whole town like to take part in with him. Noooo thank you. Not for me.

“Thank you.” I say quickly, looking to get out of there and find the Hewitt’s. They’ve all disappeared into the building Hoyt went towards a moment ago now. I brush the dirt off my pants and then clap my hands off of each other to get rid of the dirt that’s on them now, and any remnants of feeling Buckman’s hand, then flash a tight smile in Buckman’s general direction and escape towards the building.

They have to listen to me!

I burst into the place and see Thomas trailing behind the rest of that devil family down a hallway and run down there. “Thomas!” I pant, because that was a long hallway. Where are we now?! The Overlook hotel!?! “Thomas, what kind of warden are you? Please, don’t you ever leave me alone with that man ever again!” Thomas narrows his eyes suspiciously at me above his normal, leather mask -Luda and Hoyt had decided before we left their murder mansion that the human flesh mask would probably not fly in normal society, so he swapped it in for the old one,- then nods in front of him for me to walk there where can watch, and I gladly go there.

___TIME SKIP: A couple hours later___

All day, I have been trying to persuade the Hewitt’s that I’m not from here. I described Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning in explicit detail, including of course the Sheriff Hoyt thing, the Eric/Dean confusion, Bailey, Monty’s legs being chainsawed off… I even recruited some comic book information about Hoyt’s time in the Prisoner of War Camp and Sargent Chow, but they just think I’m a stalker now.

I mean, why the fuck not? Why wouldn’t I stalk these freaks? Truly, being around them has been a joy filled time.

I don’t throw back at my face that I watched their movies religiously, readers. That’s was when I thought they were fictional! (Yeah, I know you’re there reading this. This sure feels like a fanfiction to me, and as a fangirl, I’m an expert.)

So, I’ve decided I have one more option. One more chance to survive.

Hopefully this doesn’t go worse then plan A did.

Through pretending like the rope around my wrists was too tight when Hoyt tied me up by the hands to his bed frame, when really in truth it was a bit loose, I manage to make him think I’m stuck for the night. So, when he falls asleep – I know he’s asleep because he snores like a feral racoon… that also has rabies… (He drools) – I carefully, quietly, I struggle out of the ropes and carefully put them on the floor. Then turn to the window.

We’re on the second level of this building, but the possibility of a broken bone or two will not deter me from getting out of this mess. Especially since Thomas is waiting in the hallway outside this room for any sign of me trying to escape and getting hurt from falling out of a window is much preferred to meeting the business end of his chainsaw.

Not that I’ll be out of danger when I get out… as I’ll still be in Pleasant Valley… but I will have completed Level 1 at least.

Opening the window, I wince and look back at Hoyt to make sure the gentle rubbing sound the window makes against the frame doesn’t wake him, then turn back and immediately get to crawling out. Once I have succeeded in getting onto the ledge I hold on to the gutter - hoping beyond hope that it’s sturdy, - and reclose the blinds and push the window closed as well again. Covering my tracks.

Then I start the perilous journey down the building, which somehow, I succeed in! When I finally drop down on the dirt again and turn around though, I nearly out loud this time. “Miss Shaye! -“I stop myself, making an ‘Oop’ sound. You would think I would stop making these mistakes- I have been tortured and keep prisoner by the Hewitt family. Certainly not the late R. Lee. Ermey or Andrew Bryniarski either. The Hewitt’s. - But alas, I am still making this mistake apparently. “Sorry, you remind me of someone else!” I smile at Granny Boone, who must have been standing there watching the whole time I conquered the hotel building, stands with her hands on her hips and one eyebrow purposely halfway up her forward. She’s waiting for an explanation. “I didn’t want to wake up my family, and its time for the midnight stroll. Couldn’t sleep!”

My heartbeat races in my chest, because I have every confidence that this woman could kill me with her bare hands if she doesn’t like my answer. For a few moments, she makes me wait as she does looks at me suspiciously like Thomas. Oh god, are you going to eat me or not, ghost lady!?

“Oh, well that’s very considerate of you! Could I join you on your walk? I’m in the same boat.”

Oh, for fudges sake.

I smile politely though, and we start walking side by side down the middle of town. Silence hangs between us, but as we walk, I start to think this could work. I was planning on finding Buckman and telling him my story to see if he would believe me and do something because this whole town is supernatural and hard to believe, but I actually think this may have worked out in my favour! Maybe. He’s a sexist, chauvinistic bigot. But at the very least Boone’s a woman like me, with less of a boner for authority so hopefully she’ll at least listen. So… maybe…?

“So… “I start, sounding loud since it’s so quiet out here. “Can we talk? Woman to woman? I don’t know, you just seem trustworthy!” Oh, puke. What am I saying? “Sorry if I’m out of line, but… something crazy’s going on in my life.”

“Oh, trust me. I know crazy.” I side eye her as she smirks ‘mysteriously’. Oh, I know you know crazy, lady. I know. I know it all. You know crazy intimately. “Uh but go on. Sure thing. What kind of good Christian lady would I be if I didn’t bend an ear to our esteemed special guests?”

… Uhuh.

Well, okay! Works for me. “Thank you.” I clap my hands together. “Well. It started a month ago now, I guess… Haven’t really been able to keep up with time. First, I should probably explain the multiverse theory…”

[watchathon]

Stitch Day Special: Lilo & Stitch

In case you’re finding this post just by browsing the tags I’ve used for this post, this is the Watch-a-Thon, a blog where I’m hoping to watch an episode of a show every one-to-two days, with a short blog post where I give my thoughts on what I’ve just seen. Each new point starts with a hyphen and a bolded first word.

- Like so. 

But today? Well, today I’ve got an extra-special post in the wings about a movie, one of my favorite Disney movies, starring my absolute favorite Disney character: Lilo & Stitch!

- I like the variation on the Disney logo. That is the kind of stuff that they just couldn’t do with their new big fancy CGI logo. 

- No clue why Jumba tried to deny that he created an experiment. I don’t much mind since it led to a funny joke, but c’mon, evil genius, you should be smart enough to plead guilty.

- “I would never, ever... make more than one.” *glances meaningfully in the direction of the series*

- “What is that monstrosity...?” He’s a cute widdle fluffball, that’s what he is!

- “Meega nala kweesta!” Canonically, this translates to “I want to destroy”, but that seems a little lukewarm for the reaction he got. Maybe a looser translation is in order...

There could be an entire aristocrats joke in those three words. The whole script to Batman v Superman. The opening notes to “Never Gonna Give You Up”...

Or maybe just “bitch”.

- Blood work is a lot different in space...

- Weird to imagine given the rest of the franchise, but Gantu was once a respected captain of the galactic federation.

- It’s easy to perceive Stitch as a dumb brute, but he’s pretty smart. He connected the dots all on his own, within minutes of his imprisonment, that if the guns are locked onto his DNA, he can use his saliva to trick them. Jumba wasn’t kidding when he boasted of his experiment’s intelligence.

- And not only was Gantu a captain, Pleakley was an expert on the planet Earth. Weird, innit...?

- “Are [humans] intelligent?” “No.” An exchange that only hurts more with every year.

- Love the implication that Pleakley was just suggesting several different relatives to assist with the capture of Stitch from when they were on the deck up until they got to the prison where Jumba was held.

- Now this is what we (or rather TVTropes) call an establishing character moment. A fish floats by holding a sandwich in its mouth, implying (soon confirming) that Lilo was the one to give it the sandwich, before rushing to the hula practice that she was late for, stopping to take a picture of a tourist along the way.

- And then after she arrives at hula practice, she explains that she had to give Pudge the fish a peanut butter sandwich because he controls the weather.

- No clue why the other girls are disgusted by Scrump. I always wanted a Scrump when I was a little lass.

- “Did you ever kill anyone?” Lilo asks the right questions.

- Nani, y’could’ve avoided this if you’d given a thumbs up instead...

- I don’t get the glare Cobra gives Nani after Lilo says that her friends need to be punished. Voodoo isn’t a failure of parenting. In many cases, at least...

- Licking Nani, growling after her capture, Lilo already has a lot in common with Stitch.

- Lucky that Lilo is such a quirky kid. The scene (semi-)explaining why she takes pictures of tourists was deleted, but it doesn’t feel like anything is missing because she already has a few habits that just plain inexplicable, like feeding Pudge, practicing voodoo with a pickle jar...

- Lilo wishing for an angel because of how lonely she is, that’s a sad moment. But also kinda funny in hindsight after she sarcastically names Stitch’s love interest Angel in the series.

- Lord give me the undisturbed...ness, of that frog who watched Stitch get run over by several trucks and only tilted its head.

- If they thought Stitch was dead, why did they keep it in the shelter? I mean, Lilo would probably adopt a dead dog, but she’s the outlier.

- I like how Jumba programmed, as part of Stitch’s destructive tendencies, an urge to steal everybody’s left shoe.

- You can just about pinpoint the moment where Stitch’s heart drops at learning that he’s on an island with no major cities.

- Just occurred to me that the badness level is red, and Stitch’s evil counterparts in the series (627 and Leroy) are both red.

- Ah, David. One of the best Disney love interests, mostly because he isn’t entirely a love interest. There is a mutual attraction, but Nani just isn’t ready for that with everything going on in her life, and David respects that and is happy to be a friend.

- I like how everyone except Lilo heavily suspects that Stitch isn’t a dog. 

- Ohhh, the thought of Stitch having drank coffee. I mean, I’d love to see it, but it’d be Hell for Nani.

- Stitch looks just plain adorable with a lei.

- Well, Lilo, you did tell Stitch he should create something. And he did, he just destroyed his creation afterward.

- Pleakley is a gender-nonconforming icon.

- The first time we see Stitch doing something without even the intention of destroying anything is when he finds the book about the Ugly Duckling. It’s clear that he’s fascinated just by looking at it. And when Lilo explains the story? It resonates with him. Or, well, perhaps he wants it to resonate with him.

- I wish I had an evil koala dog that played records.

- Are we sure that “Meega nala kweesta” means “I want to destroy”? Maybe it means “I was born to dance”, ‘cause Stitch learns about dancing and in less than a minute he’s already an expert.

- I imagine this montage, or slightly earlier, would be when that deleted scene of Lilo trolling the obnoxious racist tourists originally came into play. And I like this scene, but, I do wish that scene hadn’t gotten cut. And I wish that they fully animated it and inserted it into the movie like Warner Bros did with The Iron Giant.

- Nothing cheers me up more than this scene of Stitch and his newfound family going surfing. And especially since Stitch is aquaphobic. He’s very much aware that he cannot swim, and likely wouldn’t survive if he fell off the board into the ocean. But even he eventually gets into the spirit of it, asks Lilo himself to go surfing, and enjoys a nice bonding moment with his family. And David.

- Of course Jumba and Pleakley had to ruin a perfectly sweet moment.

- And so we transition from a heartwarming wholesome moment, to a heartbreaking tearful moment. You can just see Nani holding back tears as she says that she needs to take Lilo home. 

As for Stitch, David probably didn’t even realize that Stitch could understand him when he said that Lilo and Nani had a chance until Stitch came along. But Stitch did understand, and he’s visibly hurt by the idea. He always wanted to destroy, but in this moment, he’s ashamed of how he might have destroyed Lilo’s family.

- And the Ugly Ducking metaphor comes back, when in this moment, as Stitch is coming back to a family that he fears he may have ruined, he sees a lone duck... before that duck is followed by a big family of ducklings.

- Lilo says that Stitch cries at night. So, it would seem that even before he completely learned how to be nice, Stitch wasn’t entirely emotionless.

- This whole act of the film is heart-wrenching. First Nani gets confirmation that she and Lilo will be separated, then Stitch starts to fear that he may have caused it. Then because of that? Stitch leaves, taking only the Ugly Duckling book with him. And he can only see in himself the page of the Duckling, lost and crying.

- Then Jumba tells Stitch, who’s already in a bad place emotionally, that he was made to destroy, has no family, and could never have one.

- I don’t want to think about what happened to that chainsaw.

- There’s a certain feeling that comes up in the middle of this fight scene, where you realize that a house is being destroyed, a house belonging to a family that was very much at risk of separation. And you realize that this will only hurt their case beyond any repair.

- If the past day hadn’t been bad enough, Stitch is told by his best friend Lilo that he ruined everything, and to get away.

- And so Nani really does have her sister taken away. Now, taken away by aliens is a lot different than taken away by social services. It’s worse. This way Nani knows that Lilo definitely won’t get a loving family, and Nani will definitely never see her again.

- The confusion is visible on Jumba and Pleakley when Stitch goes and comforts Nani with a quote about family. All they know about Stitch is that he was made to destroy. And then, once he’s captured, he does just about the opposite.

- “Ih.” To this day I sometimes say Ih on reflex when asked a yes-or-no question. Guess I watched this movie way too many times as a kid, huh? ...I regret nothing.

- Originally, the big red plane-looking thing was supposed to just be a plane, and it would’ve flown through a city. And it was changed because it was too soon after 9/11. But me personally, I think the big red thing is real cool, and I like it flying through the valleys.

- “Stitch is unconscious.” I like that Jumba calls Stitch by his name here. In the series, he always calls Stitch “626″ but his name is Stitch. And I like the rare occasion when that’s respected by the mad genius who created him.

- I want to believe that Stitch dodged that laser for the sake of the frog he was holding more than for his own sake. Stitch is strong enough that a few moments later, he survives an explosion of a whole truck that he’s lying on top of.

- Stitch proudly calling himself “cute and fluffy” is another thing I just love. Might be reading too much into it, but I like that he can call himself by those descriptors and still have total confidence in his ability to kick Gantu’s patookie.

- My favorite scene in the movie, and the scene I took the picture from.

Stitch corrects the Grand Councilwoman about his name. And when he’s told that he needs to go in the ship (the implication being that he’ll be punished like he was meant to be at the beginning), he doesn’t rebel or try to escape. He only politely asks that he be allowed to say goodbye.

He explains that his family is “little and broken, but still good”, both explaining it to the councilwoman and reassuring Lilo and Nani.

This is the ultimate display of how Stitch has grown. And he grew because, despite what Jumba said, Stitch could find, and did find, the one true place he belonged: With a good, loving family.

- The Grand Councilwoman is clearly remorseful that they’ll have to separate Stitch from his family, but she can’t bend the law for this one case. And she doesn’t, but it just so happens that, legally speaking, Lilo owns Stitch. And, well, what self-respecting Grand Councilwoman would steal a child’s property?

- A lot of people (including middle-school me) say that the stuff with Stitch and the aliens get in the way of the story of Lilo and Nani. I disagree. These two stories are intertwined, both about people wanting to stay with the family where they know they belong. I just couldn’t, at all, imagine one without the other.

- Now this is the kind of ending I love. It’s become common for animated movies, sequels in particular, to end on the two main characters getting separated. But here? Stitch is now a definitive part of the family, and won’t be separated from them anytime soon. Anime? What anime?

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I guess I’ll be doing this on the rare occasion I cover movies...?

Anyway, this is a great movie. A modern classic. And one of very few things that doesn’t just hold up from when I was a kid, it gets better. When I was a tiny kid, I was only interested in the space aliens. When I was in my early teens, I thought the aliens were kiddy stuff. 

But nowadays, I can truly appreciate it. I can appreciate how both aspects are vital to the movie. Lilo and Stitch are both equally important. You can’t have one without the other.

And most of all, I can appreciate the story of Stitch (as well as Jumba and Pleakley) finding a family, and Lilo (as well as Nani) saving theirs from being torn apart.

Lilo & Stitch brings me to tears of both joy and sadness every time I watch it. And I guarantee I’ll be watching it many more times in the future.

...Does it still count as a Stitch Day special if I’m posting after midnight? No, probably not. I thought I’d only take two hours, then I took four and a half. Guess that means I had more thoughts than I thought I did!

[nyxicnymph]

Horizon and Edge

#5: Some Apology Necessary

I shut the lid of the coffee pot, and press the “brew” button. Mom and Dad go through a lot of coffee. Wow.

“There, the coffee’s brewing.”

Suddenly, I hear the doorbell ring. “Oh! Who could that be? It’s a Saturday....”

Annemarie reaches the door and opens it. “Hailey, they say they know you. Do you want me to burn them to ashes?” She asks in her Dark Emma voice.

I hear Cole remark, “Weirdo...” Typical.

I wonder what they want? I think. I tell my sister, “You can let them in, Annemarie.”

Annemarie sighs. “I guess you’re trustworthy. I really wanna burn something,” she mutters.

“Please DON’T,” Cole says.

Annemarie and Cole have this weird brother-sister relationship. They’re not afraid to tell each other exactly what they think, and they take it like siblings. It is not a romantic thing, not in the least. Besides, Annemarie says he’s too old for her. I didn’t argue.

So, there’s Cole and Rick... I think.

Cole tells me, “Your sister is weeeird.”

“I know.”

Rick chastises the both of us with, “THAT’S NOT NICE!” Then he pauses, and adds, “Even if it is true.” Annemarie walks past, weird and proud.

I notice someone else, and think, HIM. It’s Erik.

Erik waves and smiles at me. “Hiya, Hailey!” he says.

“You. What are you doing here?”

He just stands there, while I fume. Eventually, I decide that he’s not worth my time, and I turn to the other two.

“Actually, why are you two here?”

In the background, I hear Erik say, “She’s never going to forgive me.”

Maybe if you actually wanted it.

Moving on.

Rick and Cole assume this ridiculous attitude, and say:

“Because you’re pretty.” Cole.

“Yes, we came to declare our love!” And that’s Rick.

Annemarie and Erik have similar reactions.

“Blech!” Annemarie.

“Oh, c’mon.” Erik.

I laugh at the two of them. “You guys are disgusting,” I say, “And see-through. What do you actually want?”

Rick cocks his head. “Can’t I have a real date? I want a--?!”

Cole slaps his hand over Rick’s face, and tells me what they’re here for. “We need our textbooks. Erik’s, too.” He turns to Rick. “Shut up.”

“Ha-ha!” I laugh. “I was wondering who those belonged to! I’ll go get them.”

“Please, get them now,” Erik says. Now I’m annoyed again.

“I don’t live for you,” I say. “Get off my case, mister.” I don’t quite understand why his lack of apology has me so wound up, but it does, and I just can’t stand him most of the time.

I storm up to my room. I remember when these showed up. We had study meeting last night in the not-a-clubhouse clubhouse, and I kept going, Oh, I’ve cleaned up my stuff, only to come back and see more stuff. So, I kept cleaning it up.

Yeah. Oops.

I grab the books, and return downstairs. Rick and Cole are involved in some sort of wrestling match, and Erik is just standing by the door.

“Take your books, and LEAVE,” I say.

Erik is the first one out the door. Cole follows, but then he notices that Rick isn’t following, and returns.

“Byeee!” I say, trying to hint.

“Seriously... Date me,” Rick says.

Cole grabs him by the back of the shirt and begins to drag him away.

“No, thanks,” I say. Of course, I’m blushing, so that doesn’t do much good.

“Let’s... Go!” Cole grunts, sweat pouring down his face.

Rick finally leaves and I can shut the door. I lean against it and sigh.

And then Annemarie walks in and makes fun of my bright red face.

**********************************************

Erik:

As my friends and I walk away from Hailey’s home, I can’t help but wonder, Why won’t she let it go? It’s clearly not hate, I can tell, but she doesn’t want to interact with me, and even if I don’t try to, I annoy her.

I come back to reality in time to hear Cole yelling at Rick, “Why did you have to go and do that to her? Now she’ll never go out with you. You went and embarrassed her!”

Wait. Rick wants to date Hailey? Okay, I did not see that coming.

Now I’m interested. I turn around and ask, “Where’d this come from?”

Rick looks at me and shrugs. “She’s unique, I can talk to her, and she’s funny.” He pauses. “In her own way.”

I never see that side of her! Well, maybe Edge does, but it’s not the same!

“Define unique,” I say.

Rick sighs a defeated sigh. “She’s got a different sense of how the world works. Her eyes are two different colors. Blue and brown. She doesn’t do some of the same stupid stuff other girls do. Plus, if she really needed to, she could kick the tar out of some of these supervillains that keep running around.”

I wince. That’s supposed to be my job! “But, she’s just a girl.”

Rick’s eyes open wide. “Just a girl?!”

Cole rolls his eyes. “In the sense that she doesn’t have any noticeable... special talents. Like, superpowers. In that sense, she’s just a girl.”

I silently thank Cole. He knows me well enough to understand certain things, and explain them to others. He also knows me well enough to tell that something in my life has been different the last six months or so, but he doesn’t pry.

I’ve known Cole from third grade, but only met Rick when I first started high school. He added a much-needed dose of weirdness to the group.

Rick calms down. “Well, yeah, in that sense, she’s just a girl. But she’s great.”

Cole rolls his eyes again. “Dude, this dove thing is getting obnoxious. Talk about motorcycles or something. Or horses.”

I perk up, then calm down. I like horses, and Cole knows that. He’s just trying to make me look like a dork. Not that I need much help.

Rick perks up, too. “Hailey has horses! She has her own horse, named Stella!”

Darn it, Cole!

“Hailey has horses?” Cole asks.

Rick nods.

“Well, that settles it. Erik needs to stay as far away from Hailey as possible. Otherwise, poor Hailey will never get a moments peace!” Cole teases me.

“In all fairness, she wants to stay as far away from me as possible. So, that won’t be a problem,” I say.

Cole just shakes his head. “Dude, can’t we tease you without you getting all mopey? She’s probably still steaming. Girls are weird like that.”

I turn to him and grin. “Yeah, and Annemarie is the weirdest of them all.”

Cole shrugs. “Actually, I think that Hailey still wins, by a slim margin. But Annemarie is pretty darn crazy. She wears a lot of black, and talks about burning things down a lot. With chainsaws in the vicinity. She doesn’t have an ounce of dignity.”

Rick adds, “Weird and crazy aren’t the same thing. But she definitely needs some dignity.”

I laugh. “Clearly, someone needs to go to the store and buy her some.”

Cole shudders, then punches me. “You know you can’t BUY dignity. She’ll just have to live without. Unfortunately.”

By the time we reach my home, I’ve been sufficiently cheered up, and have almost forgotten why I’ve been depressed.

Almost.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 71

Thank you to @satan-parisienne for being my #1 beta reader and literally writing half this chapter.  So many conversations between us are captured in their essence when Sophia and Tyche interact, but this was such a rare opportunity to transcribe such a conversation. 

There are so many other people I want to thank, but if I thank all of you, this post would be literally just tags. So, I want to include @baelpenrose and @anotherusrname for also being there for everything that doesn’t make it into this story, and @charlylimph-blog for being the light and joy in the world that I wish I could be. 

No worries, this isn’t the last chapter, I just had a really rough week from a mental health perspective.  The show will go on.

At some point during the night, Xiomara vanished with the gorgeous artist. This left my sister, Charly, and myself to annoy Sebastian until the guys could come and rescue… someone.  I wasn’t sure if they saved us or the poor pub-owner. All I could remember after Xiomara leaving was Charly deciding Conor was a good chair: intending to sit on her stool, she had unceremoniously climbed in his lap instead. After some wiggling to figure out the difference, she had pronounced the chair to be soft and warm.

With a snort of laughter that made my eyes water, I had to explain that it wasn’t the chair she was practically wallowing in, it was my boyfriend’s lap. With a very serious look at his face, she had only patted his beard and announced that she understood why I kept him since he was so comfortable and warm. That was the point when Coffey scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and took a still-waving Charly home, and everything else kind of blurred together.

As for myself, I woke up the next morning being tortured for my sins. Someone had decided to play a recording of a cement mixer over a looped track of a chainsaw, at full volume, targeted straight at my ears. Groaning in pain, I covered my ears and quickly realized I didn’t have enough hands to also cover my eyes. The chainsaw stopped abruptly and I felt the mattress dip to my left. I cracked my eye when an arm nudged mine. Maverick was handing me a cup full of something that was quickly snatched away when I tried to sniff it. He brought it back with a pointed look, so I placed my faith in him and chugged it.

If it smelled half as bad as it tasted, no wonder he wouldn’t let me take a whiff – only every shred of self-control I hadn’t exercised the night before kept the concoction my stomach. It tasted like analgesic, so I assumed if I kept it down, the hangover would go away eventually. That didn’t make the act of forcing it to stay in my stomach any easier.

When I no longer felt like my brain was trying to escape my skull through judicious use of a sledgehammer, I took a deep breath and braved opening my eyes. What little light there was in our bedroom was no longer cleverly crafted from sharp objects, and the cement mixer had been replaced by Conor snoring away to my right.

“He took the late shift to make sure you all got home safe,” Maverick whispered softly. “So I agreed to be the one to deal with your hangover.” When I glared at the empty cup he had taken from me, he shrugged and smirked at me. “Analgesic, electrolyte solution, and an anti-emetic.”

“No wonder it tasted like ass,” I grumbled.

Jokingly, he waved a hand in front of his nose before pinching it. “I think you’re just tasting your mouth, honestly.  You really need to brush your teeth.”

Scowling, I ran my tongue over the inside of my teeth – and immediately regretted it. Did I eat a dead rat or something? I whimpered to myself before staggering to scrub the taste of whatever it was out of my mouth.  After a rather prolonged date with my toothbrush as well as a shower, I managed to walk much more gracefully into the kitchen to get some coffee.  Conor had already beat me to it, however, handing me a steaming cup as I walked in. He carefully ruffled my hair – I was still struggling with flashbacks – and bent down so I could kiss his cheek.

I pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want that kiss from someone else?” I teased.

“You would never believe how awkward that was,” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “Charly’s a nice girl, but I got my hands full with you two. Sides, she’s a bit much for me, you catch my drift.” He gave me a pout and tapped his cheek again.

Giggling, I obliged before going to sit on the couch and putting my head on Maverick’s shoulder. “Do I smell better?” I yawned before sipping my coffee.

“Much,” he exhaled gratefully.

I snuggled in further, now that I was granted approval. “Tyche make it home okay? I’ll admit I don’t remember much.”

“Yeah, she’s fine.  Antoine took her home not long before Coffey came and got Charly.”

“They weren’t sneaky at all, you know?” As I said this, Conor walked in with a quizzical look on his face. “We knew you, Coffey, and Antoine were sitting in the opposite corner all night.  Zach showed up later, hung around for a bit, so did Simon but he headed out kind of early.”

“You weren’t supposed to know,” Conor scowled comically.

“You and Coffey are the two tallest humans on the ship.  Did you really think you were hiding? Especially with Xiomara at the table?”

“She’s got a point,” Maverick laughed. “What is it you always say? Xiomara has horse’s ears?”

Conor tipped his head back laughing. “I said I hadn’t seen her in a donkey’s ears, which just means a really long time. But yeah, I should have known she would see us.  We figured she’d be on our side, not ratting us out.”

I buried my face in Maverick’s shirt, laughing.  Sitting up, I wiped a tear from one eye. “Love.  Xiomara was in the military and trained in hand-to-hand combat, and you don’t want to see what Tyche can do in a fight.  She fights dirtier than mud.  We were safe, I promise.”

“Let us worry,” Maverick pressed a kiss to my temple. “You don’t get to hog all the overprotective instincts, you know. And besides, if any of you ladies thought that Coffey wasn’t going to be watching Charly like a hawk, you’ve lost your minds. I’ve seen what she can get up to when she’s sober. Drunk? No thank you.”

“Speaking of Charly,” I adjusted so I was sitting straighter. “Galactic education starts next week.  She told me she’s in one of the first classes.”

Maverick nodded. “Yeah, same section I’m in, I think. I didn’t recognize the teacher’s name, though.”

“At least that means we know it isn’t Simon,” Conor pointed out with a grin.

“Be nice,” I remonstrated. “Eino administered all his testing for certification, and he’s pretty impressed with Simon.  Even in the practical observation, he did a great job.”

“Wait,” Maverick ventured slowly. “If this is a new curriculum, how is there a practical observation?”

Conor shook his head before reaching forward to squeeze the other man’s knee. “The educators have to go through the course before they can teach it, just like anything else.  They’ve already been trained in how to teach, but need to know what they are teaching.”

I picked up from there with a nod. “Simon, on the other hand, is already familiar with the material but had to go through training to know how to teach. So, two birds, one stone.” Leaning forward, I flicked my wrist to bring up my datapad where everyone could see it. “Simon is one of three people who will be fully reassigned to teaching the Galactic education courses, while every other trained educator on the ship will be teaching one to three sections in addition to their existing coursework.”

“Nearly every other educator,” Conor corrected with a stern look.

“You sound like Tyche.”

“With good reason! You never told anyone you were a teacher!”

“Wait, what – “ Maverick sputtered, confused. “You were!?”

“One, I never actually taught on my own, I changed careers in my last year as a student-teacher. Two, I did tell other people! It just never really came up that often.” When Conor opened his mouth to object, I cut off the statement I knew was coming. “And I have mentioned it to the two of you, so I don’t want to hear it!”

Conor’s mouth shut with a click and realization dawned on Maverick’s face. “All those nights you were going through candidates to teach the courses… You kept saying you would make sure the program succeeded….”

“Even if I had to teach it my damned self,” I finished. “I wasn’t kidding.  All I need is about fifteen more hours practical observation, according to Eino.”

“You asked?” Conor looked skeptical.

“Well, Tyche did,” I admitted. “Just because we were having a hard time finding enough candidates to dedicate their time to just that course.”

“I thought Alistair was a teacher?”

“Librarian,” I corrected. “Totally different skill set, believe me.  I tried suggesting that he teach a section or two, and got an earful about the differences.  Ironically, he gave me a lecture about how he isn’t trained to lecture?” Shaking my head, I finished off my coffee. “Anyway, we managed to find enough teachers, so courses should start next week.”

“We should celebrate!” Maverick grinned. “A big family dinner, since we kept it small for Insert Winter Holiday. Invite everyone!”

I started counting in my head and groaned when I hit the double digits. “Mav… that’s…” Xiomara, Zach, Hannah, carry the three…. “That’s fifteen, sixteen people?  I don’t think we really even have room for everyone.  Especially if we don’t want people getting overwhelmed.”

“You and Tyche may want to talk about a family dinner rotation.” I thought Conor was joking, but a look at his face told me he was dead serious. “When there were just five of us, it was one thing, but now? The dinners the two of you make are turning into the hottest table in town.”

With a sigh, I shot a quick message to Tyche to see if she was in the land of the living.  Rather than respond, she showed up at my quarters, Antoine in tow and Mac staring balefully from her shoulders.  “Hangover remedies are revolting, but work,” she proclaimed while making a beeline for my kitchen.  Shortly, everyone was seated with a fresh cup of tea or coffee. “Now, why have I been summoned from my lair?”

I gestured to Maverick first. “Handsome number two had the idea to have a family dinner to celebrate the launch of the new education courses.” I paused for effect. “All of the family.”

Tyche sputtered and choked on her drink. “Where would we fit them all!? Neither of our quarters are anywhere approaching large enough.  We would need a small mess hall, which kind of ruins the effect.”

“I agree.  But I also agree we need to celebrate… what if we talked to Sebastian and took over the Undine for a night? It’s smaller, with dinner-style tables.”

She tipped her head side to side, thinking. “It might work.”

“Well, Handsome number one came up with another good point.” I gestured for Conor to explain.

“I just think you and Sophie should consider setting up a rotation for family dinners. Not just who is cooking,” he rushed to clarify, “but who you’re inviting. We love you girls ‘til the wheels fall off, but you adopt strays faster than most cat ladies I’ve met. Not that I’m complainin’, being part of that number!” He held up his hands in surrender. “But don’t you lasses think the ‘come one, come all’ approach is getting to be a bit much?”

To my surprise, Antoine nodded even more emphatically than Maverick did. “Sophia, Tyche, he is right. Only sheer luck and good manners have kept the two of you from being overwhelmed by your insistence on feeding anyone who arrives during your ‘family dinners’.  Inviting specific people on specific evenings may be the best idea, while also considering keeping some meals to just the five of us.”

Before the objection could even bubble up to my throat, Maverick squeezed me against him. “I can actually feel her heart breaking.” Briskly rubbing my arm, he dropped a kiss on top of my head. “Sweetheart, you and Tyche both said it yourselves: If everyone chooses to drop in on any given Wednesday, neither set of quarters have room to accommodate that.”

Tyche heaved a sigh of concession. “Okay, I definitely see the point about the ‘just us’ dinners… I’ve really missed those, honestly.  But, how do we decide rotations for everyone else? How are we supposed to make it fair?”

I sat bolt upright as her words hit me. “You. Are. A. Genius.  I actually have an answer to that!”

The expression on her face was matched by the one Mac was dishing out when my exclamation interrupted his nap. “Okay… How am I a genius right now?”

“How to make it fair.”

“So, for bringing up the question?”

I nodded my head emphatically before gulping down the rest of my coffee. “Themes.  We are going to set… five. Five themes. Culinary ones.  We are going to set… five. Five themes. And anyone who has a standing invitation to dinner will be asked to rank them, one through five, and we’ll use that to set the rotation.” I grinned triumphantly as Tyche’s face shone with realization, but then looked at the guys.

All three of them were completely lost.

“Everyone except the five of us will get the list of themes… something broad.  Not a specific dish, but a really broad type of food. They rank the five, with one being the absolute preference and five being ‘hey, not my favorite, but if Tyche or Sophia are cooking, I may give it a shot.’ The first, say, three people who ranked a certain theme their favorite get that, then the rest get their second choice, so on and so forth.”

“Ideally, no one will have to eat their fifth choice theme,” Tyche clarified. “Or even their third.”

Maverick hummed briefly. “So, say everyone picks the same thing for their number one. How do you decide who gets it?”

Tyche and I glanced at each other before I shrugged. “Honestly, the three who have the most restrictive dietary needs, are closest to us, and get along the best. If everyone picks the same thing for their first choice, it’s going to be something plain and probably vegetarian because that’s the majority of Derek’s diet and he has the most restrictive one. So it would be Derek, Grey, and probably Zach who got that one.  Everyone else would then get their second, and so on.”

“But,” Tyche emphasized, “letting everyone pick the meals they would prefer makes it the most fair and easiest on us, because then we know what to cook each week.  And there would still be meals for just the five of us, right?” She glanced at me, questioning.

“At least every sixth meal, but I would prefer after every three,” I admitted.  “That gives us once a Terran month.”

“What about big meals?” Maverick pressed. “For everyone?”

I tapped my chin for a moment while Tyche furrowed her brow. “Quarterly?” I asked, just as she suggested “Birthdays?”

Ugh. Both made sense. “Well, our birthdays are three months apart, give or take a few years, so we could still do quarterly. I just figured the Terran equinoxes and solstices, because they align with pretty big Terran holidays in most cultures and religions.”

“If you went with that, it would mean we could have the option of quiet birthdays,” she pointed out.

“That’s what I was kind of thinking,” I admitted. “I mean, what if we don’t feel like peopling on our own days?  We could still do that, in addition to the other four, but it wouldn’t feel mandatory.”

“I like it. That’s the solution.”

I grinned widely, happy with the compromise. Conor, however, waved his hand where everyone could see it. “For those of us who don’t have a mysterious psychic connection that even Noah says doesn’t exist, what exactly are your themes going to be?”

“Spicy, simple, protein, vegetarian, and soup,” Tyche and I answered in unison.  While it wasn’t intentional, we managed to stifle our surprise and laughter to make it look like we had done it on purpose.

Antoine looked thoughtful before nodding. “That does, actually, make the most sense.  Those are such severe distinctions, excluding the soup, that there should be no difficulty with anyone having a definitive preference.”

I thought about that briefly. “Yeah, I know ‘soup’ feels like a stuck on category.  But I genuinely know people who hate it, and also some who will eat any soup or stew you put in front of them.  It’s about the food touching, the flavors combining, and so on.”

Maverick was the one to back me up on that bit of information. “Derek will probably rank soup as either first or second, especially if you go by the strict culinary definition.  For someone who doesn’t like mushy food, he practically loses his mind if you give him a bisque.  It’s crazy.”

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[toocool2btrue]

Distance 2/2

Lance currently lay in his bed his brows furrowed as thousand thoughts swarmed in his mind, the Garrison was going to announce the result of the pilot exam on Monday and the mere thought of it gave him the goose bumps, he shook his head, trying to push those thoughts at the back of his mind and instead eyed the clock wondering when will Katie will come back. Although it was Saturday, she had been called in for an emergency at work and she had yet to come back home. To keep his anxious mind busy, Lance had spent the whole day doing small chores but now there was nothing left to do. He hoped that Katie would come home soon and hopefully they could play video games together.

If she actually gets the time that is, he wouldn’t be surprised if Eric had already something planned beforehand. Lance grumpily sighed, he felt guilty for getting jealous of her boyfriend like that after all she had every right to prioritize Eric over him but still…

The memory of Katie holding onto his hand was still fresh in his mind, just thinking about it made a chill run down his spine and he knew for sure that Katie had felt something too but at the same time she had made it clear in her own way that she didn’t want to or wasn’t ready to have this conversation.

His trail of thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang on his door, ”Hey Lance, Can I come in?” Katie called out from the other side. Lance gave himself a moment to recover his breath, Katie made her entrances like a serial killer. 

“Yeah!” he called back and true to his earlier statement the door was kicked open almost out of hinges by a frantic looking Katie but instead of holding a knife or a chainsaw she had held up two dresses in each hand.

“I just got back from work and I need to attend a formal party soon. So help me decide. Black or Green?” she questioned holding them up better for Lance to see. His eyes flitted from the black one to the emerald green one. He always considered green to be more of her color so he immediately replied, “The Green one”

Katie inspected the two dresses again and then nodded in agreement, “Yeah I don’t think I am in a mood for a backless dress. It’s gonna be freezing there. I’ll wear the green one and tie my hair in a high ponytail and call it a day” she grumbled exhaustively.

Lance frowned at her idea and spoke up “Katie, I think a side bun will suit the dress more than a high ponytail” he suggested helpfully.

Katie groaned rubbing her temple, “I know you are right but I am too tired to even attempt something like that right now. I spent the whole day trying to fix the stupid malfunction in the prototype. My hands are numb” she sighed dramatically, displaying her hands to him. 

Lance mentally awed, they still looked so small as compared to his. “Well if you want. I can help you with that. You’d be surprised to see how skilled I have become” he declared proudly and Katie raised a brow in amusement, it had been a longtime since she had a glimpse of his old cocky personality.

“I hope you’re a better hairstylist than you were a tailor”

Sometime later

“Lance, please tell me that you know what you are doing” Katie asked as Lance took hold of her hair, “Will you just relax? It’s going to look amazing!” he assured.

“Although you could have at least brushed it before. It’s all tangled up” he reprimanded, picking up a brush. Katie scoffed in an offended manner, “When I gave you the responsibility of my hair, this was included in it. You can’t back off now buddy”

Lance chuckled as he gently brushed her auburn locks, “Don’t worry I am not backing off. This is my Everest and I will succeed!” he declared. Lance watched in the mirror as Katie rolled her eyes, “Stop being so over dramatic,“ she scoffed again but there was telltale hint of a smile on her face.

“I like to give you a warning. My hair has a mind of its own, so we are gonna need a lot of bobby pins” she informed opening the top drawer of her dresser. Lance blinked in disbelief at the mountain of bobby pins in the drawer, “How do you still have so many of them. Don’t they disappear?” he wondered, after all that’s what years of living with his mother and sisters taught him.

“I buy them twice a month just in case. There was a time Matt used to steal mine to try all these crazy hairstyles. Thankfully he has got a normal haircut now” she replied. 

“I see what you mean” he mumbled as a small curl popped out from the half done bun and Katie laughed handing him a handful of bobby pins.

“Anyway what have you got planned for the night?” she asked. “Uh.. nothing, Veronica has to attend a friend’s bridal shower and you have that party so I’ll be at home and probably order pizza” he replied trying to sound upbeat.

“I see..” she mumbled falling silent as Lance continued to work on her hair. After the bun was complete. Lance frowned unsatisfied, it looked perfect from the back but as he glanced at her reflection in the mirror, something was still missing.

So he walked over to the front and gently pulled out a stray curl that framed her face. Katie beamed at him in response as she inspected her reflection. “Thank you, Lance. It looks beautiful”

Lance wanted to correct her and tell that it was she who actually looked beautiful. More beautiful than anyone he had ever seen before but instead he softly smiled in response and accepted the compliment.

He glanced at his watch, there was still half an hour but Katie probably would want to get there earlier. “Well its almost time for you to go. Have fun” he smiled getting up to leave her room.

“Wait!’ she called out suddenly. “I am pretty sure that I am allowed to bring one person so why don’t you come with me?” she offered. Lance blinked in surprise before shaking his head. “Thanks but-”

“Oh come on, It would be better than you staying here. Shiro got back from his intergalactic trip yesterday so you will even get to meet him. Also the food is going to be amazing” She informed gleefully and Lance laughed.

“As much tempting that all sounds. It’s a formal event and I don’t even have a suit” He reminded. “You and Matt are about the same size. So you can wear one of his and dad has this blue tie that would really suit you” she supplied instantly.

Lance grinned, “You really thought this through?” to which Katie nodded proudly.

"There is a reason I am considered a genius. So will you please come” she asked tugging at his arm and Lance finally nodded after it was the same girl he had robbed a water fountain for. He didn’t have much resistance against her. 

______________________

“I feel dizzy seeing you like this ” Lance exclaimed holding his head and Shiro chuckled, “I think your being a tad bit melodramatic. I just dyed my hair black”

“It’s been a longtime since I saw them like that. What made you dye them black again?” Lance wondered.

“It started when I coincidentally met Matt during my intergalactic trip. We were just hanging out when he dared me to dye my hair black again. I was kinda hesitant and then he suggested that we could use temporary dye. Unfortunately none of us had any experience in hair dyeing and by the time we were done, we had blackened half the bathroom” Shiro chuckled and Lance joined in.

“Next morning when I woke up and looked in the mirror, I felt so young again and then I realized that I was only in my thirties I didn’t need to have a head full of white hair like some grandpa” he laughed in a thoughtful manner.

 Shiro glanced down at his drink before taking a sip, “I realized something important that morning. No matter how glorious or terrible your past is. Dwelling on it too long will destroy your hope for the future. That’s why I erased that part of me”

“What if there is something you can’t erase?” Lance questioned, touching his cheek. Lance knew Shiro would understand, after all he was the first one to get scarred by the war.

“Don’t let it” Shiro firmly replied, “Anything that is stopping you from being happy. Don’t give it that power. Lance, you need to understand something. After what we have gone through, we all deserve to be happy. I know it seems difficult at times but search and go after whatever makes you happy” Shiro stated.

Lance nodded taking in his words, by no coincidence his eyes fell to the figure standing at the opposite side of the room.Katie stood with Eric,chatting excitedly to a group of scientists.

Shiro knowingly smiled to himself witnessing the whole scenario, it was probably the fifth time he had seen Lance look back at Katie ever since she had gone to talk to the other group. 

He couldn’t believe that perhaps his years long suspicion might actually be coming true. “So things look better between you and Katie again” he mentioned casually, Shiro’s curiosity turned into glee when Lance’s face slightly flushed.

 “Oh yeah, she is the one who actually dragged me here” Lance mumbled shyly.

“I knew you two would eventually figure things out again. True friends always eventually come back to one another”

“You think we could be as good friends as before?” he questioned hopefully. Shiro shrugged in response, “Who knows maybe you two might actually be closer than before. It just depends on how much effort you put in your relationship”

Lance smiled to himself, “Thanks Shiro”

Shiro nodded slyly taking another sip of his drink, Keith and Hunk were in for some news.

“Takashi can you come here. We need to introduce you to the Emperor of Besaiv!!” someone called out from the crowd.       

Shiro rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner “To think they might spare me for one night. I’ll be right back ” he said patting Lance’s shoulder and then disappearing in a sea of people.

Lance nodded refilling his drink, he leaned against the wall next to the food table. In order to keep himself amused he looked around the large room despite it being more of a private event the place was still packed with Garrison employees and various alien delegates. There were even paparazzi spying from the windows avoiding security and trying to get a good shot of the event.

Lance considered joining Katie but he didn’t think her ‘boyfriend’ would be very pleased. After all his face looked like he had swallowed a bug when he saw Lance tonight but still managed to amiably greet him for Katie’s sake.

Speaking of the devil, Lance’s eyes widened in surprise when he noticed that Eric was no longer in his previous place. Instead he was seen again moving through the crowd and heading right towards him. Well to be fair, Lance was standing next to the less occupied food’s table so that was more likely why he was coming here.

Eric finally reached the table and filled his plate with few appetizers. “Hey there Lance. Having a good time?” he asked good naturally to which Lance nodded.

Instead of going back with his plate, Eric decided to join him next to the wall. They stood there quietly as Eric ate the appetizers which frankly wouldn’t take much time since they were a bite size only, the silence wasn’t a comfortable one and Lance really hoped that Eric would finish his tiny food quickly and leave.

“So Katie told me that your exam went well” Eric mentioned offhandedly. Finally something they could talk about, Lance sighed in relief. “Yeah I was really worried but thanks to-”

“That’s good to hear” Eric remarked cutting him off, by this time the plate was empty and before Lance could suggest the stuffed cheese chicken in a vain attempt to keep the conversation going, Eric spoke again.

“Lance” Eric cleared his throat, his eyes raced through the crowd before turning back to Lance. “There is something I need to ask” he said opting for a stern tone. Lance nodded uncertainly placing his glass back on the table, "Ok..”

“I need your honest answer to this. Is there something going on between you and Katie? Do you two have any history that I should know about?” he asked, much to Lance’s horror.

“What?! No!” Lance blurted out, his face turning bright red. “We are just close friends. Nothing else!” he replied hurriedly.

Eric frowned in disbelief, “Look, I am not an idiot who is just jumping to conclusions. It’s not like I haven’t met the other paladins, Katie is close with them as well but with you-”

“I already told you that there is nothing going on. How can you not trust her?!” Lance hissed as fury danced in his cool blue eyes.

“Of course I trust her!” Eric replied getting agitated “It’s you that I don’t. After all, it’s pretty obvious that you have feelings for her” Eric pointed out.

Lance stood there tongue-tied as Eric continued, “Oh come on, it’s not like I haven’t noticed that the entire time you have been here you haven’t been able to take your eyes off her nor did I miss the forlorn look in your eyes when I came to pick her up a few days back. So.. can you deny it now?” he questioned harshly.

Lance’s eyes fell to the floor, his face burning with embarrassment and anger but Eric still wasn’t done, “I am surprised to be very honest. Everyone knows how hopelessly devoted you are to the late princess. You even carry her marks on your cheeks so what happened now? Finally got tired of playing the sad lover?”

Lance looked up and glared daggers at him, “That is none of your concern!”

Eric simply gestured towards the auburn haired girl and then eyed Lance dangerously. “You have made it my concern”

Katie laughed forcefully, as Dr Frank cracked what felt like the thousandth joke of the evening. Despite the cool atmosphere, the nervousness was starting to make her hands sweat. Although from afar, it looked like two men just having a serious discussion but she doubted they shared any common interest to have this long of a conversation.

She glanced around her group, it didn’t look like Dr Franks story was going to end anytime soon but she really needed to come up with to escape soon or else tonight’s party would be remembered for very different reasons.

“ I am feeling a bit thirsty. Let me just get a drink” she informed trying to get out of the conversation. Just then a waiter arrived carrying a tray full of drinks, Dr Frank picked up a glass and handed it to Katie.

“Oh would you look at that. Lucky you” He commented joyfully and Katie had to refrain from rolling her eyes, lucky her indeed. Dr Frank’s eyes lit up and Katie prayed that he hadn’t remembered another one of his dreadfully long and supposedly funny stories yet to her dismay.

“You know this reminds me of the time..” he started and Katie internally screamed. She glanced back at the two men. Their postures looked more stiff than before and it looked like the discussion had now turned into a full blown argument.

She wanted to slip away from the group but Dr Zenia had a good grip on her forearm. Just as she was planning her next move, Shiro came to her rescue.

“Uh..sorry to interrupt but there is this urgent matter that needs Katie’s attention” He stated politely, tugging her away from the group of disappointed scientists.

“Thanks Shiro” she mumbled as the two friends swiftly navigated through the crowd. Shiro nervously glanced at the two arguing figures, luckily they hadn’t grabbed a lot of attention, aside from a few waiters who decided to stay clear of them and handful of Besavis who simply blinked their multiple eyes in confusion at the scene.

“Maybe thank me after this gets solved” He replied worriedly. Katie didn’t reply for her eyes were trained right where Shiro’s were a moment ago. Her mind buzzed with various solutions at the same time her heart twisted with worry.

What could have possibly lead to this? She anxiously thought. She hadn’t even brought up the idea of break up by now but then Eric despite his cool nature did have an irrational streak to him and it made her worry about what exactly was he assuming and excusing Lance off.

“Fine, so what do you expect me to do? What is the point of this conversation?” Lance questioned irritability.

“I think the point is clear enough. I want you to stay away from Katie! ” Eric snapped.

Lance sneered in response to Eric’s annoyance,  “Katie and I have known each other even before the discovery of Voltron. Since then, we have faced things together that you can’t even imagine in your worst nightmares. She is one of the most important people in my life so if you think that you can actually try and scare me away. You need to get your head checked for loose screws”

Thankfully before the fight could have further escalate,Katie arrived. She cleared her throat grabbing attention of the two men and at the sight of her both of them paled. 

“Katie..” Eric was the first one to speak up much to his misfortune, Katie acknowledged him for a brief moment before turning back to Lance and Shiro. 

“Excuse us” she stated politely before turning back to her boyfriend. “Eric follow me, we need to talk” she stated firmly and he complied silently.

Lance watched as the two of them disappeared yet again in the crowd. He and Shiro stood silently for the remainder of the time till Katie finally arrived again. Eric was nowhere near to be found and Katie’s earlier strict demeanor looked crumbled as well, it was obvious what had happened.

Shiro and Lance shared a worried look and Shiro stepped forward to comfort her but Katie wasn’t currently in the mood for sweet words and decided to call it a night, “Good night, Shiro. I’ll see you on Monday” she simply mumbled to the older man who nodded understandably.

She then turned to Lance and he gulped wondering if she had some choice words prepared for him as well but she only sighed softly and said, “Lets go home”

______________________________

Katie slammed the door of her car shut with bang, Lance expectantly glanced at her to say something. He didn’t even care if she would start shouting at him, it would be less scary than this silent Katie.

Katie started slowly making her way towards the house as Lance followed but instead of going inside. She slumped down on the front steps of the house, “Ugh!” she groaned in frustration , covering her face with her hands.

Lance took a hesitant seat beside her, “I am sorry” he mumbled causing Katie to look at him and to his surprise,her eyebrows were cocked up in an amused manner.

“What are you apologizing for?” she asked. Lance looked at her in disbelief, he had thought that Katie would be somewhat furious with him as well. “Because of me. You and Eric got into a fight and you guys broke up” he tried to reason, still feeling confused.

Katie let out a short giggle to his horror, “It was going to happen soon anyway you just catalyzed the whole thing. So don’t feel guilty” she tried to assure.

“Why?” he asked confused, last time he checked Eric looked like he was ready to challenge him to a duel for Katie.This question brought back the earlier gloominess, Katie hugged herself before explaining “It wasn’t gonna work out. I know that eventually he wanted something serious for us but I am not in the same place. I tried to bring myself to that place but I can’t” she cried out helplessly.

“And do you know why?” she added softly, the vulnerable look in her eyes was back, the pale moonlight added a silvery glow to her amber eyes. Lance’s throat felt dry so he only nodded to hear her answer.

“It’s because I am an Idiot!” she declared, “You were right. I can’t do these easy going relationships, it will always be the case of all or nothing for me but I was still stupid enough to do it” she stated miserably. 

“You are not stupid. In fact, that’s the exact opposite of what you are” he comforted jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Unfortunately Katie didn’t seem much amused, “I am stupid at this whole relationship stuff and because of my indecisiveness he is the one who actually got hurt and he deserved better” she whispered.

“Pidge..” Lance called out, wrapping his arm around her, Katie welcomed the comforting embrace and she moved closer to him. She softly sighed, as she placed her head on his shoulder. The two friends remained quiet for a moment, enjoying the tranquility of the night had to offer.

“I shouldn’t be allowed to talk to people” Katie mumbled, her voice slightly muffled by Lance’s jacket. Lance chuckled, “The world would then be a very boring place”

Katie playfully scoffed at his cheesy praise tragically the light atmosphere didn’t last long after all Lance had his own burdens of the heart.

“Since it’s the night of failed relationships. I have a confession too” he declared. Katie lifted her head from his shoulder and eyed her friend with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

“What are you talking about?” she questioned, pulling away from him.

“Allura and I. Our relationship” he started nervously with his eyes trained to the ground.

“It was a mistake”

“A mistake?” Katie repeated. Lance winced, it felt more painful hearing it out in words. “Yes it was mistake. Don’t get me wrong. Allura was a great person and I still love her but now that I think about it, I only ever loved her as a friend and I am pretty sure she never thought more of me either”

Katie looked at him as if he had grown a second head, “Are you sure?” she questioned and to be fair she did have the right to be suspicious, after all he had spent some good years tending those juniberries and avoiding his friends.

“Yes I am sure” he stated. “To be honest there was always something off about our relationship. Sure we were there to comfort and be there for one another but none of us were actually ..happy" 

"I used to think that maybe I had exaggerated the idea of love in my head thanks to those stupid writers and poets and this is what it actually felt like” Lance mumbled, glancing at Katie. 

He had always found her fascinating, even long before he had known she was a girl. There was this pull and connection he had felt that compelled him to know her better and he feels disappointed that only now he knows what that truly meant.

“But now I know better. Love was never exaggerated by those poets or writers. In fact, it’s such a strong feeling that I don’t think anyone can ever properly describe it” he breathed in amazement, he could feel the warm glow on his cheeks.

“Lance. Your marks are glowing” Katie whispered, reaching out to touch them. Lance laughed heartily, “They are?” his heart wildly danced in his chest as he felt her soft hand against his cheek.

A moment later, the glowing stopped. Katie retracted her hand and beckoned Lance to continue. He cleared his throat, trying to remember his words,“Truth is that we never felt this way about each other and probably if she had lived on. We might have broken up but then she sacrificed herself and gave me the Altean marks and at that time, I was really confused about the whole thing but when I got the Altean marks. I somehow convinced myself that maybe we had been truly in love and now it was my destiny to keep her memory alive”

“And then you know it got out of hand” he mumbled, feeling embarrassed. “I felt confused, lost and trapped. The only goal that made sense to me at that time was keeping her memories alive and then when you guys tried to help me move on. I couldn’t do it. It felt like too much pressure” He confessed as Katie rubbed his back in comfort.

“But hey look at yourself now. You have come so far, you actually are moving on and you know the best part is that you decided to do it on your own. That means you are ready for a new life” she pointed out to which Lance smiled.

“I am” he agreed, “and now when I think about it. I realize that Allura would never want me to keep my life on hold like that. I am pretty sure if she had the opportunity she would have kicked me back to the Garrison” he stated lightheartedly and Katie silently agreed.

"i realized something important today. Team Voltron sucks at romance” Katie declared glumly. Lance chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“What about Hunk though?” Lance asked suddenly remembering one of them was actually in a stable relationship.

“You’re forgetting that he chickened out three times before he finally asked Shay out for a proper date” Katie reminded.

“I don’t think you could add Keith to our group” Lance pointed out, “Mullet managed to seduce three princesses and almost caused war in a planet”

“Whoa! Who knew that Keith was the true lover boy but what can be said girls do love the broody artist type” she grinned. 

“The ponytail must have surely helped” Lance added and the two of them broke into fits of laughter.

After the laughter died down.They sat in amiable silence,enjoying the peace and security the other’s company provided.

“I missed this” he confessed breaking the silence, Katie smiled softly and nodded in response. Somehow that soft smile provided him the courage to say the words, he had kept off his lips the whole time. Although he had thought about this for a very long time, always wondering and worrying for the right time to say them and it seemed like the moment had finally arrived. 

“Katie, I am sorry” he whispered, taking hold of her hand. “I should never have pushed you away like that, it was the stupidest thing I have ever done and you should know that I really regret it. I regret driving you away to the point of ruining our friendship because Katie you mean so much to me” he confessed, tightening the grip on her hand.

“I felt miserable during the period we stopped talking and it made realize how important you are to me. I never ever want to lose you again” he declared.

Katie was grateful for the lack of light for she was sure her face was redder than a firetruck still her lips curved into a smile, “Never?” she questioned cheekily.

Lance grinned in response, “Even when we die. My ghost will find yours and since Keith is gonna live longer than us because of his galra genes. We will go haunt him”

“Lance..” she tried rolling her eyes at the ridiculous statement but truth was she couldn’t be happier so she finally decided to be honest. Honest with him but most importantly to herself.

“I am glad you are back. I missed you so much” she finally confessed. Lance’s heart practically jumped out of his chest when she pressed a kiss on his cheek and then pulled him into longing hug. He responded, holding onto her with equal desperation. 

“I am sorry too” she whispered in his ear. “I should have been more understanding and patient with you”.

“It’s alright. It doesn’t matter anymore. I am just glad to have you back” he replied, closing his eyes as two stray tears slid down his cheeks. As the tears made contact with the marks, they glowed for the last time before finally disappearing forever.

Epilogue 

Leon, come back here!!“ Lance called out running after his three year old son. Leon shrieked in excitement as his father finally caught him and then lifted him into the air.

"Leon is flying in space!” Lance declared, spinning his son in the air. “Papa higher!” Leon demanded, failing his arms.

 Katie smiled to herself as she watched the little scene. In a minute she had to go and remind Lance to stop messing around and put Leon to bed but for now her she let herself relax and be grateful. 

She was reminded of an interesting discussion they had at work, there existed multiple realities in the vast universe and each reality had a different conclusion to their story, in some they might have never even met and led their lives contently without the knowledge of other.

Probably in another, they fell in love at first sight and never parted or maybe they did meet but their feelings never surpassed the platonic line. She slightly frowned at the idea that perhaps in a few they did fall in love but the time hadn’t been right and they didn’t end up together. 

“Mama!” Leon called out, Lance had finally put their dizzy toddler down and now he was running with full speed towards her. Katie slightly toppled as Leon crashed into her legs and urged her to pick him up. 

She dutifully did so and then showered his face with kisses. Leon giggled with delight but the excitement didn’t last long for his eyes had now started to grow heavy and the familiar scent of his mother was lulling him to sleep, Leon wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck and a few moments later he was fast asleep.

Lance immediately came over to her side offering to take Leon from her. She softly smiled and shook her head assuring him that despite her exhaustion she could carry her boy. 

After tucking Leon into bed, the couple quietly walked out of the room. Lance reached out and engulfed his wife in a needy hug,“ I missed you so much. One month is too long ” he pouted referring to his recent mission from which he had just returned.

“I gotta say I am surprised that you didn’t immediately come over to my lab after landing maybe becoming the Head pilot changes people” she teased and Lance further pouted still holding her firmly in his arms.

“I was just coming over to your lab when Iverson stopped me and asked me to give report of the mission. I swear that man is plain evil, he purposely stopped me from seeing you!” Lance declared and Katie shook her head.

“You’re forgetting, it’s only because of Iverson we met in the first place. Who the heck is Pidge Gunderson?” she reminded and Lance softly smiled, kissing the top of her head.

His eyes fell on their wedding rings and he sighed in contentment for out of all the billions of possible realities that existed. They managed to exist in the one where despite the internal conflicts, mistakes and uncertainties they had to go through they had finally found true happiness.

“My wife” he proudly replied.

Thank you for everyone who read this! I hope you enjoyed it and please reblog if you did and tell me your favorite moment. Thank you @artemisarya for letting me borrow Leon for the ending.