#ready to throw down $$$ on floor renovations if it means I stop hearing 3+ of muffled tv through the floorboards every night

[phantomrose96]

I've got some specific and extremely strong aversions to certain repetitive motions/noises, and I've noticed the uniting factor among all of them is that the thing happening is going to go on indefinitely.

People talking in the office doesn't bug me, but someone using a mechanical keyboard is torturous. I don't mind the noises of cars/people passing by in the street, but hearing my neighbor's tv from below kills me. I don't mind being around people who are eating, but being around someone chewing gum is utter hell.

The other part about this which is hell is these extreme aversions aren't common, so I know I'm not being the reasonable one to expect no one to ever use a mechanical keyboard around me, or ever chew gum around me, or put on the tv around me. And I think that adds to it because I know I'm not in the right to ask these things to stop (I do, sometimes, if I'm friendly with the person and I try to make it clear this is a huge favor to me but still.)

Anyway I'm just kinda musing out loud but also wondering if this is maybe a thing in like... some capacity. Being stuck in the vicinity of some noise/visual motion which is repetitive, will continue indefinitely, and which I have no say in making stop. The ongoing-ness and the I-don't-control-when-or-how-it-stops-ness. Like is that a neurosis with a name? Chinese water torture would unravel me at the molecular level.

[thatgoblin]

RE Cul De Sac 1A

Welcome to the Neighborhood

Pairings: Leon x Chris

Summary: Leon finally is out from under the government's thumb and is trying to find his place with his new found freedom. A call from an old friend lets him know that he has a place if he doesn't want to stay in D.C. anymore. It just so happens to be with the mostly retired BSAA captain.

Warnings: None

Leon had never felt so exhausted before. Usually he was good with catching a few winks of sleep on the plane between missions and home, but he had passed out completely on the plane to the non-descript city that held his new life. Thankfully he was left alone even with the soft snores drifting around the cabin.

Ears back and eyes narrowed as his tail flicked around to warn anyone who may cross him, he trudged through the airport towards baggage claim. All of his stuff from his apartment had already been packed up and shipped, leaving him with just a few personal supplies and clothes as he finished up his leave of absence paperwork.

He hadn't quit the DOS, but he managed to secure a good few months of leave that would let him actually rest and have a life. With new people in charge, it was easy to get his leave approved as well as a change of address. Hell, Claire had said she'd get Chris and the others to put in a good word for him at the BSAA if it meant he'd stay off of active duty for a while.

While he appreciated the offer, he was going to take his time off first. It was an elusive animal and now that he had it in his hands, he didn't want to lose it.

Once at the carousel of bags, Leon grabbed his before pulling out his phone.

'Message when you get out front. We'll pull up to the curb to get you.'

Tucking his phone away, Leon headed out to the front. The airport itself wasn't actually that big, at least compared to others he'd travelled to. It was a straight shot from the gates to the baggage claim and then the pick up lanes outside. In fact it was a relief to be so simple. No trams or stairs to take, no one to pass because they're going slower than everyone else. It took him just five minutes to get from his gate to the front and that was when he stopped for his suitcase.

Standing at the curb, he took his phone out again and shot a quick text to Claire.

'I'm outside.'

The late September air felt so different from the muggy oceanside air in D.C. It was soft and had a slight breeze. Not scorching hot but not biting cold. It was that transition time where it was perfect to have the windows open all day and night before autumn truly hit.

A red truck pulled Leon from his thoughts as it stopped in front of him. Before he could even register who was in it, the passenger side door flew open and Claire jumped up to squeeze him.

"You made it!" She cried, grinning before letting go. Leon had no time to react as she grabbed his luggage to throw in the back seat of the cab then climbed in after it.

"Hey," Chris said, smiling at him and waving from behind the wheel.

"Hey," he replied, climbing into the truck. Once the door closed, Chris pulled away from the sidewalk.

"How was your flight?" Claire asked, leaning forward between the front seats onto the console. Her tail was wagging briskly, thumping against the seats as her ears were perked and ready to listen.

"It was okay. Slept through most of it," he said. "Just finished up paperwork at the office the night before and only got a few hours of sleep."

"Well, now you'll be able to catch up on your cat naps!" Claire said with a giggle.

"If I weren't so tired, I would give a sassy come back," Leon said with a snort as he shook his head.

"Ignore her," Chris said. "She's had 3 cups of coffee and has cleaned my house at least twice in the last 12 hours. Jill has kicked her out for the day because she's tried of Claire trying to rearrange the dishware in the kitchen."

"I just wanted to have things perfect for when you got here," Claire said with a heavy sigh. "Besides, Chris' house needed it. We even decorated it a bit better too. Now it actually looks like a home and not some squatters place. I swear Chris, sometimes I wonder if you like anything outside of work."

"You're one to talk," Chris said. "If it wasn't for Jill, your place would look like a frat house."

"No it wouldn't and you know that," Claire grumbled. "You're just mad that I have better taste than you."

"Oh no, whatever will I do?" He said, rolling his eyes as he pulled onto the highway.

"Probably have Piers invade and turn it into a military museum if you're not careful," Claire said with a snort.

"You talk too much," Chris huffed.

"And what's wrong with that?" Claire asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I don't know, but maybe the fact that Leon just got in the truck and he's already nodded off despite you chattering," Chris said with a smirk.

Looking at Leon, Claire say the cat boy had indeed nodded off. His face rested against his fist, propped up by his elbow on the window sill.

"Poor guy," Claire said, softening her voice to let her friend rest. "Probably hasn't had a decent night of sleep in a while."

"I'd say it's been a lot longer than just a while," Chris said, his own voice lowering.

The drive home wasn't that long, 20 minutes in the late morning traffic. Claire had settled down, letting Leon rest. Planning to do a few things together could wait. She had been so caught up in her excitement of having her friend move in next door that she forgot the hell he'd exited just a few weeks ago.

It had been rushed for sure, making time and space to get his things there before he did, then trying to figure out what to put in storage and what to put in his room. Leon had sold most of his furniture, really only bringing a few large items like his own TV and bed. His dishes and such were either sold or given away as well, making the move a bit easier.

He was given the guest room in Chris' house, a Dutch Colonial that had been the first house in the Cul de Sac, Albert Wesker's home was a recent addition next door to it.

That was how Chris found out about the older home next to him. Albert had talked about how there were bids to tear the house down because it was so old, built in the 30's and wasn't care of very well after the original owners passed away. The others had purchased the spots of land shortly afterwards before the Home Owners Associate could swoop in and try to put restrictions on what they could build. While theirs were built from the ground up, Chris took his as a project.

It was nearly three months of renovations, which was pretty quick considering how much work had been done, before he could move in completely. It took about the same time for the others' homes to be built.

"Should we wake him up?" Chris asked as he pulled into the driveway of his house.

"I mean, we can't let him sleep in the truck all day," Claire said.

Chris rolled his eyes at his sister who shrugged. Reaching over, he shook Leon a bit by the shoulder.

"Hey, we're home," he said.

The blond tabby opened his eyes before taking a deep breath and stretching.

"Cool." Opening the door, he stepped out and waited for Clair to hand him his luggage. Before she could, Chris was out and had it in his hands. "I can carry my own things," he called after the shepherd.

"Well, it's your first day home," Chris said, turning back to give the other a smile. "Better get used to having someone around for help."

"Does he always do that?" Leon asked, looking back at Claire.

"Basically my whole life," she said with a nod. The two followed the older man into the house, Leon taking in his surroundings the whole time. Inside, he was given a quick tour as there were only a few rooms on the first floor. The second floor was the bedrooms with a bathroom and shower, then the basement for storage.

Leon's room was across the hall from Chris', which was a small comfort of sorts for him.

"I'll go ahead and let you get settled in. I'm sure Claire will let you get some rest before barging in and dragging you off somewhere," Chris said, setting his bags on the bed.

"I was going to let him have the rest of the day to chill out," Claire said, crossing her arms. "Tomorrow is a different story though."

Leon raised a brow at the two, wondering if it had been such a good idea to move in with the Redfield siblings being so close in proximity.

"I'm going to pass out now. I'll try to be awake by dinner," Leon said.

"If you're not, that's okay. Let me know if you need anything," Chris said with a soft smile and a nod.

"Thanks," Leon said, getting enough of a breath in before Claire was wrapping herself around him again but tighter. "Jesus-"

"I'm glad you're here!" She cried into his chest, pulling back to smile up at him.

"Glad I'm here too," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. It was what she wanted to hear and while Leon himself wasn't certain if he was or not, time would only tell.

Master List of Drabbles

Tag List: @abysswhiskey11 @interviewedchicken @lonely-af-fangirl @girl-obsessed-with-things @mmmm----15 @depressedthebluefox @whimsywispsblog @singingsiren98 @parkerschurros @chrissyreid @bohica160 @death-is-beautiful @mittensdun @ravenrune @bsaa-bitch

[pixie88]

New Home

Chapter 1 - Addicted to you.  

A/N: Here’s the first chapter of ATY! It’s set 2 months later and a bit has happened since the last chapter. I hope you like it 😘  

Tagging those who asked to be tagged but if you want to be added let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2018

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy! 😘  

2 Months later.

Both their flats had been sold and were going through the process of signing their properties over, they had viewed a few houses, none of which neither of them could see themselves living there.

They were viewing an old end terrace house one afternoon. Which had been recently renovated, as they walked in the stairs were on the left with a door at front which the estate agent said could be a separate dining room. The door opposite on the right was the living room and to the end of the hallway was the door to a spacious kitchen/dining room which had lead into the garden through some French doors.

For a house in London the garden was bigger than usual. Upstairs the 1st floor had 2 bedrooms, a bathroom with a freestanding tub. The loft which was the second floor had been converted into another bedroom with an en suite.

Both Laila and Harry couldn't believe how lovely this property was. It was perfect for them, it was on the edge of London, so not as busy as where their flat were.

It was an extra ten minutes travel time to the salon Laila worked at but this made her consider whether to go self employed. Harry's gym was five minutes closer, so work, travel wasn't an issue with him. They decided to put an offer in, a few days later they got the call saying another buyer had pulled out and if they were still interested the seller was willing to accept their offer.

Everything was going good for them even Vicky had been sent to prison for 3 years for criminal damage.

Remy was taking things super slow with Melissa but they were getting on well.

Moving in day.

"Lift with your legs Rem's." Alec calls over to him. "I....AM....FUCK! Laila, what the hell is in this box?" she looks over to him. "Erm...shoes, I think," she wanders over to him, checking out the box "Nope, Harry's weights!" she laughs, "No, wonder I can't lift it" he says as he's struggling with the box.

Harry wanders over taking the box off Remy and throws it onto his shoulder. "Alright, show off!" Remy calls after Harry as he picks up another box. Laila rolls her eyes at the both of them   grabbing a box herself, following Harry upstairs to their bedroom "So, Miss. Carelli, any regrets?" she looks over to him and laughs as she puts down the box "Just one!" she winks "Really?"

"Yeah, offering to get our friends a Chinese take away after they helped us unpack. When we could have had the place to ourselves and christened every surface." she says, her arms loop around his neck and he sighs, "We were stupid! Why did we do that?" he chuckles.

"We were!" she kisses his lips, he moves them backwards until she's pressed between him and the bedroom wall. He invades her mouth, they hear footstep coming up the stairs and they spring apart "We better get the rest of these boxes in before I won't be able to pull away" he pulls her with him.

Later.

Laila is sat on the sofa with Priya and Katrina "This is such a lovely house. I have house envy" Katrina tells her, "We were very lucky to find this place, some of the other places were awful!"

Priya looks out to the hallway at Harry and Will trying to get their new bed up the stairs "Moving in with Popeye is why I'm green with envy! I bet he just throws you over his shoulder with ease! If Chris tried that with me, he'd end up throwing his back out" Priya laughs.

"Aww poor, Chris!" Laila laughs. "He might not be able to do that, but he certainly is able to do other things!" Priya winks, Laila pretends to gag "Max has no trouble throwing me over his shoulder." Katrina adds "Oh my god! Please stop I don't want to picture my brothers in that way!"

The three girls laugh sipping their wine.

Laila wanders into the kitchen to get a top up, Chris, Arthur and Max are in there filling their plates again "Hey, you three!" Max nods with his mouth full. "Alright, Laila! Thanks for this!" Chris smiles as he nods towards the Chinese takeaway "No, thank you guys for helping us move in," she smiles at the three guys. "If you need any help with anything give us a shout, especially if you guys are going to pay in booze and food," Arthur chuckles.

"Yeah, same goes for me!" Max winks at his sister, Chris shook his head at his brother. "Well, I for one am glad to see you happy again!" he pulls her in for a hug. "Aww... thanks, Chris!" Laila blushes, "I didn't think I'd see you in love again after Josh but just the way you two look at each other. I've got nothing to worry about."

Laila kisses her brother on the cheek "He is a lovely bloke," Max winks over at her. "I just glad he's moved on after that last chick, she did a number on him," Arthur says as he makes his way over to her, he looks towards the door as if to check the coast is clear "The truth is I never liked her, there was just something about her that was..well....off. Even dad didn't warm to her..EVER! Then he meet you as soon as he mentioned you to us you could tell you had him hooked." Laila blushes at his words "He has me just as hooked," she laughs.

After she tops up her glass she goes in search of him "There you are!" he's upstairs with Will putting up their bed "Hey gorgeous, where's the bed sheets?" he looks up at her. "I'm pretty sure they are in a box in here," she starts looking through the boxes. "Harry, you hold it up and I'll bolt this end" Will orders him, Laila watches him lifting the side of the bed that is attached to the headboard while Will bolts the foot of the bed to it.

His arms are bulging while he lifts it, Harry notices her looking "Like something you see?" he smirks at her "Maybe!" she winks at him and he laughs, "Hello guys, I'm still here!" Will shook his head "We better stop or he will and we can't test it out later gorgeous!" Harry teases "You two need to get a room!" Will says. "We do but you're in the way!" Harry jokes.

Laila laughs, "Stop whining him up!" Laila finds the bedding "I'll put this over here, thanks for the helping, Will" she places the bedding on the dresser.

Later.

After everyone had left they climbed into bed "Our first night in our new home!" she says as she cuddles up to him, he strokes her hair as she lays her head on his chest. "First of many," she lifts her head and looks up at him, he claims her lips before flipping her onto her back, his body covered hers.

He grinds his hips against hers, letting her know he isn't ready for sleep just get.

A few days later.

Laila finishes work early because a client canceled, she walks through the front door and can hear drilling coming from the separate dining room. She calls out to Harry confused as he was supposed to be at work, "Harry?" she steps closer to the door when it swings open. "Laila?! You're home early!" he says coming out of the room, closing it behind him "I could say the same to you! What are you doing in there?" she asks.

"Nothing, how was work?" he tries to change the subject "Harry, why are you changing the subject?" she asks him, he shrugs his shoulder, "I don't know what you mean!" she decides to try and push pass him to have a look, but he stops her "OK, you know that idea you gave me about turning it into a home gym...well, I decided to do it. But at the moment it's a bit of a mess in there I want to show you once it's completed, so will you promise to stay out until its done?" she smiles at him "I'm glad you decided to do it and I promise to keep our until you've finished" he sighs with relief.

A Weeks later.

Laila is finishing up at work when Harry wanders into the salon "Hey gorgeous, you ready?" he smiles at her. "Yeah, I'll just grab my bag.”

As they're walking down the road Harry can't stop smiling "Why are you grinning like an idiot?" she asks, "Max and I got the room finished today, so when we get home, I can finally show you," she links her fingers through his "This is where part where I'll hardly ever see you because your working out," she winks at him "Nah, I think you're get more use out of it then me!"

She laughs, "I've told you I don't like working out in gyms." she nudges him "Who said anything about working out," he winks at her and she blushes.

When they arrive home Harry stops her, "Wait, you need to put this on!" he hands her a blindfold "Really? I don't need this for a home gym!" he sighs, "Please? For me!" she huffed "Fine!!" placing it over her eyes Harry leads her into the converted room "Just around this corner."

"Corner? What corner?" she asks, confused "I put in a wall, so when you walk through the door you have to come round to see it. Now stand there" his lips brush her ear, "I'm going to pull it off on 3, OK?" she nods "1.....2......3" the blindfold is off her eyes adjust, but she's confused "Harry....."

"What?....Where's the g..? What's this?" she asks, he smiles "Laila, you have been on about getting your own salon for ages then we found this place and it cut into the money your parents gave you. So, it cut into your dream...I was speaking to my parents when my dad gave me the idea, then I spoke to Max. He did all the work for free, but I had to pay for the materials, Nikki came by one day and caught us, she knew a place to get all the salon equipment at a discount. I didn't ask her but I thought if you wanted you two could run this place together?"

Laila stands there in shock not quite believing he has done this for her "Harry...I.." he sighs, "You hate the wallpaper don't you?" he runs his hands down his face, she cups his face "Harry, I love it...this is the most sweetest, kindest and amazing thing anyone has ever done for me! I can't believe you did this instead of converting it into a gym." He smiles at her "I can work out at work! I just thought you deserved this after what you did, so we could get this place." she grins.

"Have you tried out the chairs yet?" she asks and he shook his head "Why don't you take a sit Mr. Taylor?" she winks at him.

As soon as he sits, she straddles him and runs her fingers through his hair, he grips her hips "Not sure I need a haircut." she looks down at him "Hmmm....we'll just have to see what other services you can use!" she winks, his lips quickly find her as they test out the sturdiness of the chair.

~*~*~*~

A few days later Laila hands in her notice and she convinces Nikki to work with her and Daniel because Nikki can only work part time.

The three of them are excited about this new opportunity.

Will it be a match made in heaven?

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 2.

@lem-20​ @aussieez​ @secretaryunpaid​ @khoicesbyk​ @irisofpurple​ @txemrn​ @beautifuluknownvoid​ @wombatsxkookaburras​

[buglife]

Bend and Not Break - Ch 1: A Mark

Anonymous said: Not sure if someone has requested this yet, but I’d love to see how the cast would react to an assassin coming after Ghost or Quirrel. I mean, there’s gotta be some bugs out there who don’t adore the new sovereigns right?

Anonymous said: If your still doing these (if not I’m really sorry and please just ignore me) may I request 17: “Ok, well… Fuck.” With Quirrel and Ghost being his knight in shining armour.

Read here on AO3 :3

Quirrel looked in the mirror, sighing to himself as he regarded his reflection. He was due to make a public appearance today along with Ghost, so he had to look the part of a King. He still didn’t feel much like a king, not really. He felt more like he did when he was helping his mother run the archives, which was a lot of running around and keeping people from losing their fingers to explosives. It wasn’t all about preventing disasters, it was also about fostering the love of learning and the curiosity that makes society better. So in a way...he felt the same now as he did then. There was more paperwork, of course, but he was happy. It helped that he had a spouse to share the load with.

He fiddled with the ring on his left hand, the pale ore gleaming in the light. It had been made from Ghost’s old nail, with them having a matching ring. They had long since outgrown the old nail, and most of it was used in making the pure nail he now carried. Still, it was something special that their rings were made with the metal that helped kill a god and started the rebirth of Hallownest. Smith and Sheo were absolutely delighted to work on them, and now the both of them had completely unique nails and rings that will probably last forever.

Today was going to be a rather emotional day for Ghost. He remembered them telling him snippets about the Soul Sanctum here and there. They could only mention what they were comfortable talking about, and it wasn’t much of it that qualified as such. Sometime during their journey to end the infection, they had entered the Soul Sanctum and put down the mad scientist within along with his equally mad followers. Grandeurs of immortality and power was enough to corrupt any bug, but from what he heard, the ones involved went far beyond corruption. It was evil. Pure evil. Ghost usually stopped talking at around that point, and Quirrel found himself cuddling them as they sought comfort to ease what they cannot forget.

The worst day perhaps, was when the Kingdom had established themselves enough to expand beyond bare necessities. As soon as the funds was available, Ghost had the Soul Sanctum completely stripped down to the bare walls and floors. They had gone that day to oversee it all and when they returned, they could barely hold themselves together. They spent the night crying, mourning the lives lost in the pursuit of power. They had given the dead within rest, but it still destroyed them on the inside to have to return to that place. Quirrel did his best to help, and many a sleepless night was spent together, attempting to heal deep wounds within.

They had recovered, in time. Stripping the place had done a lot to help them move on from the experience, and they had decided to turn it into something new. Something useful that would help bugs and not harm them. Something that promoted life, not take them away.

Its where they were going today, to officially open it up to the public. Quirrel would be there not only as a fellow ruler, but as support for Ghost. Despite it all, it was going to be hard for them.

Quirrel smoothed back his antenna and tied his silk kerchief around his head. It was a necessary habit he picked up while growing up with his mother. After burning his antenna one too many times due to splashes of acid or a chemical reaction gone wrong, he tended to pin them back. They got in the way sometimes, but once in a while he felt safe enough to let them out. The palace didn’t really have acid, or volatile chemicals, but old habits die hard.

He clipped on his cloak, letting the study fabric fall around his shoulders as he pinned it in place. It was a lovely blue, nearly iridescent, and clasped with a pale ore brooch that designated him as king. There was no way he could ever bring himself to wear something as tacky as a crown. Hell, Ghost wouldn’t even be able to fit one on their head. Instead, brooches seemed to fit a whole lot better.

Once he made sure his nail was strapped to his side, he deemed himself ready, and exited the room - only to nearly smack into his spouse, who was opening the door at the same time.

“Oof!” Running into Ghost wasn’t as fun as it was when they were little. Back then their shell was soft and kinda squishy like any other grub. But once stasis ended and they caught up on all their missed molts, their chitin had become tough and hard.

“Are you alright?” Ghost’s telepathy was soft and gently breezed by his mind. It’s just something gods could do, apparently. Their sire could, Quirrel knew that as a fact, but the fact they also ate a god boosted their ability to communicate without relying on sign language. They only ‘spoke’ like this to family and friends, a little too nervous to use it on the public. Quirrel hoped that would change with time.

He didn’t blame them, though. They were terrified of being considered scary. They were certainly imposing, but not as much as their sibling, Hollow. There were those that will always be scared of them, with them being a god and immensely powerful. But enough of their subjects loved them enough to not care. He just wished they could see it. Quirrel considered them handsome and cute, but then again, he was biased.

“I’m okay love, I was about to go and find you.” Quirrel smoothed down the front of his cloak and picked at Ghosts, adjusting it around a little. “It’s nearly time.”

Ghost was silent for a moment, and then leaned down to softly bonk their forehead against theirs. “I know.”

“You’ll be fine. That place doesn’t exist anymore.” He did his best to soothe any lingering nerves. Being around Ghost for so long as alerted him to their various tells. “It’s a better place now. Much better.”

They nodded slowly and let out a deep breath. “You are right. It is just hard to let go of what it was.”

“I understand, it will take a while, but you are doing great.” Quirrel took Ghost’s claws in his and gently squeezed. “Come along then, we don’t want to be late to the dedication.”

Ghost tilted their mask up in a smile, and then nodded. They bent down to steal a quick kiss, one that Quirrel returned, and together, they headed to the Stag Station.

----

The Capital was bustling, like always. It no longer was the City of Tears, not with the new revitalization of Hallownest. The rain had been stopped, redirected with new plant life growing on the ceiling. Lurien himself helped renew the spells that kept the water from outright pouring out of the lake above. Without being constantly rained on, more bugs were out and about. Today however, they were gathering in front of what used to be the Soul Sanctum, waiting around a platform where their rulers would be giving a speech. Most bugs were eager to enter the newly renovated building, because it was for them, and them alone.

The Soul Sanctum, which had brought so much death and misery to so many lives, had been converted into a multi-level communal greenhouse. There, farmer bugs would grow a verity of food, which is then free to be picked and used by the public. Taxes from the upper members of society will be used to keep the place running. That way, no bug would have to go hungry. The intimidating and Gothic architecture of the building had been transformed into a pillar of glass and green. It was now friendly, the oppressive air from before banished into a place of shelter. Not only could you go there to eat, but you can go there to rest among some of the floors dedicated to flowers. It was a gift, from the rulers of New Hallownest to the people, and the people were waiting to be allowed in to enjoy it.

The five new knights of Hallownest stood in various places around the crowd. So far, they didn’t need to do much but remind some citizens to calm down and not crowd each other. With Xena on her beast (named Pickles, but only she can call them that), it was easy to keep everyone in line. Cloth stole a quick moment to wave to Myla in the crowd, temporarily breaking protocol, but it wasn’t like Tiso was going to scold her for that, since he did the same thing. Once he finished his quick wave to his other date friend, he scanned the crowd and recognizing a few folks from Dirtmouth as well. A lot of people showed up to this dedication, hell, he even spotted a few spiders and bees in the crowd. It just made him scan the crowd more thoroughly. Threats could come from anywhere, and he took security very seriously.

It wasn’t long before he spotted the Kings approach the platform and climb on, waiting for the crowds cheering to die down before they began the ceremony. Quirrel was doing the speaking today, Ghost standing beside them and holding his hand. Tiso remembered when Ghost was small enough to pick up and throw. It was lots of fun, but now they were too big for that. Oh well. As soon as the crowd’s noise died down, Quirrel tapped a speaking stone on the provided podium and his voice was projected outwards to be heard by everyone.

“Hello to you all, our dear subjects. Today we continue to do our very best to provide for you, our people, whom we dearly love and cherish. This site was a place of tragedy, and pain, part of the past of old Hallownest that was rife with corruption and oversight. But today we have washed away the dark and terrible past, to bring in the new, which is full of hope and life. We have -”

Quirrel had always been a good speaker. But Tiso wasn’t here to hear a speech. He heard it before, when Quirrel had asked him and his fellow knights to hear it and give honest feedback. Tiso had suggested Quirrel get to the damn point because nobody liked just standing around, so he thankfully cut the speech down by half.

There were bugs everywhere. Bugs in the square, bugs that could climb were hanging on buildings, bugs looking out windows, bugs on roofs, everywhere. Tiso scanned them all, eyes narrowed. It was no lie that there were bugs out there who didn’t agree with the direction the new government was taking, especially having another god as a ruler. Ghost and Quirrel had managed to piss off the right people. They were the folks that enjoyed profiting by gaming the system, and that system came tumbling down once Ghost claimed the throne. It got even worse when they married Quirrel, who was scarily smart. Quickly it became obvious that nobody was going to get away with old hustles anymore.

Quirrel continued talking, and Tiso continued watching. Then, something caught his eye. A glint of metal shined on one of the rooftops, a figure crouched down behind it. The glint moved, and Tiso’s heart went cold.

“GET DOWN!”  He shouted, and with a heft, threw his shield as hard as he could. Bugs instantly dropped to the ground and the knights gathered to the podium. The shield whistled through the air, and with a satisfying clunk, impacted the bug on the roof. There was a brief shout of pain, and then came the thwip as a crossbow bolt lodged itself in the podium. It was obviously aimed for the pillbug’s head, and it missed him by scant inches. Someone in the crowd screamed and it started a chain reaction of panic. Cloth and Ogrim took crowd duty, ushering the crowd into nearby buildings to get them off the streets and away from the danger.

Xena was already heading up to the roof atop her beast, the creature climbing up the sides with frightening speed. Tiso flashed his soul and recalled his shield, just in time to hear the bug on the roof start screaming once the beast reached it’s fanged maw out and grabbed them. He trusted Xena to keep at least enough of them alive for questioning later.

To add more chaos to the mix, some bugs in the crowd dropped their cloaks, revealing nails, and rushed the podium.

“No more gods! No more masters!” Some of them shouted. The sentiment was echoed by the other assassins as they parted through the crowd, not caring about who they knocked over or trampled in their haste. Bugs continued to scream, struggling to get out of the way as some were simply tossed aside to make way. Tiso could hear grubs wailing and the sharp clang of metal as some of the bugs in the crowd took up their own nails. They were valiantly trying to hold back the assassins, who cruelly cut them down and left them to bleed out. Thankfully medics were among the guards, and they quickly raced out to try and save the injured civilians.

So this was a coordinated assassination attempt, usually they were done by singular bugs. They must have gotten a little smarter. Tiso was about to jump into the fray, only to hold back when Hollow sped past him and body checked an assassin so hard that he could hear the chitin cracking from where he stood. Ouch.  He let Hollow do their thing and barked out orders to his guardsmen. They had to get everything under control, and fast.

However, the Kings of Hallownest were no pushovers. Quirrel practically teleported, moving with an insane amount of speed to kill an assassin with a flash of their nail. Since the crossbow bolt was aimed at him, Ghost was especially pissed. They were trying their best to not change into their true, terrifying form and completely destroy the square they worked so hard to rebuild. Judging by the extra three pairs of eyes that opened on their mask, they were barely holding on. Tiso did not blame them.

One assassin got lucky, moving at just the right time to scratch their nail along Quirrel’s side. He let out a hiss of pain and leapt backwards, ignoring the wound for now. He moved to retaliate, only to see said assassin become a smear of hemolymph on the platform. He glanced up to see an absolutely furious Ghost retract a void tentacle back into their body, still coated in a thin sheen of gore.

“Are you okay?” Ghost’s mental voice was now tight, louder. Quirrel could hear the rumbling of the void in behind, overlapping as the power of a god began to leak through Ghost’s control.

“Yes dear, just a scratch.” Quirrel sidestepped another assassin, bringing his nail around to cleanly slice off their nail arm. The assassin screamed, now missing an arm, and was quickly grabbed by Ghost and slammed bodily into the ground. Ghost then proceeded to kick them into the nearest building, cracking the stone slightly and leaving said bug a quivering mess.

As quickly as it all began, it was over. In total there were eight assassins. Three were outright dead, most due to Ghost. The rest were maimed and beaten bloody, but were alive. They weren’t too sure if the ones Hollow got to would survive or not. Either way, they weren’t going to get out of the situation alive, either by the executioner’s axe or dying from their wounds. Tiso had ordered the spare guard out, and there was a city wide search for more conspirators. There was no way to tell how many were out there, at least, until the prisoners were questioned. Something Tiso was going to enjoy doing so very much.

Ghost was panting, trying to calm down after losing their control for the bare moments it took for the fight to finish. Quirrel shivered, also breathing heavily. Adrenaline was surging through his body still and he doubted he’d be able to calm down anytime soon. Ghost had grabbed him, holding him tight as they too, shook. For a being designed to have no emotions, Ghost sure wore theirs on their sleeve, frantically patting Quirrel down for injuries. He knew what they were afraid of, and he stopped their hands with his to prevent their anxiety from taking over their rational thought.

“I’m okay love, it’s just a scratch.” He had time to look at his wound, bleeding blue. It wasn’t even terribly deep. It would just need some cleaning and some shell paste. If anything, it was making a mess of his cloak. The cleaners were going to have an absolute fit about it. He sighed as Ghost moved their hands to the wound, clearly worried.

“Your Majesties!” Ogrim hurried over. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine, thank you. What of the assassins'?” Quirrel again, moved his hands to hold Ghost’s as he listened to Ogrim.

“Captured. We have guards scouring the city for anything suspicious.” The dung beetle looked about the now empty square, watching the assassins that were dead being dragged away. “Tiso and Xena are going to head an investigation once they interrogate-”

Ghost whistled, stopping Ogrims words. “I will interrogate them.”

“Your majesty, are you sure, you-”

“I am very sure.” They had since hunched protectively over Quirrel, arms like a gate around him. The malice in their 'voice' wasn't hard to miss, something Ogrim picked up on. He was always able to pick out the tiniest of details.

Ogrim bowed his head, but spoke plainly. “With all due respect, as your knight, and as your friend, I urge you to at least let the captain and his lieutenant do their job first before you decide to do anything.”

“Ogrim is right, love.” Quirrel reached up to cup Ghost’s cheek, hand oddly feeling weak. Perhaps he was still worked up? He started feeling a little dizzy, maybe he needed somewhere quiet to de-stress for a little while. He wouldn't mind retreating back to their bedroom to cuddle for a while. That should be able to do the trick nicely. Still, he continued with his advice. “You are too worked up right now. You need to calm down first. We both do.”

Ghost shook for a moment, and then took a few deep breaths. “Okay. Please tell Tiso and Xena to get as much from the prisoners as they can. I will be there shortly.”

Ogrim nodded. “Of course, Cloth and Hollow will be here soon and they will be able to escort you back to the palace.”

Quirrel started to say something and then was hit by a sudden wave of light headedness. He grabbed onto Ghost’s arm to steady himself as he momentarily lost feeling in his legs.

Ogrim and Ghost noticed that for sure. “Your majesty?” Ogrim questioned, reaching out a claw to offer support.

“No no- I’m fine...I’m..” The world twisted and a spike of pain and nausea punctured his gut. He suddenly couldn’t tell which way was up or down anymore. His legs gave out and through an increasing and concerning wave of numbness, he felt himself being caught.

“QUIRREL!!”  The mental shout was loud, and with it came more noises he couldn’t quite make out.

Ok, well… fuck.” The pain seemed to get worse, now a burning sensation that spread from the wound on his side to the very core of his body. His lungs hurt. His heart hurt. A disturbing wave of pain twisted around his limbs and went right into his brain. It suddenly got more difficult to breathe as he clutched his spouse with his claws.

He was dimly aware of someone screaming desperately, echoing around his head as he lost the ability to understand it, he was too busy gasping for breath.

The noises blended together until finally, there was nothing but darkness.

-----

“In you go, ya fucker.” Tiso not so gently tossed one assassin, a particularly nasty looking cricket, onto the stone floor of the dungeon cell. They had given just the bare amount of medical care necessary to keep them alive. The worst injury was the stump where their nail arm used to be, cleanly cut in half by the biggest nerd in the kingdom. “This’ll be your new home for a while, but it can get a little nicer if you decide to talk.”

“It won’t make any difference,” The cricket spat a wad of hemo on the floor. “I’m dead anyway.”

“True…” Tiso mused, leaning on the bars to stare the other bug right in the eyes. “But would you rather prefer a quick death, or being dragged kicking and screaming into the void? Cause let me tell you, I’d rather take a beheading over that. That shit is fucked up.”

“Typical of a tyrant.”

“You seriously calling the squirt and the nerd tyrants? I mean, they literally were about to open a public greenhouse so that everyone can eat before you idiots crashed it.” Tiso tapped his shield against the bars, making the metal ting in the most annoying way possible. He absolutely loved messing with prisoners like that, it made them slip up more often than not. Tiso learned more from pissing off the prisoners than he ever did 'nicely' interrogating them. “I don't know about you, but that don’t sound like tyrants to me.”

“All gods, are tyrants.” The doomed assassin moved to sit up, resting their back against the cold stone walls. Their movements were awkward, now that they were missing an arm. “The Pale King was. The Radiance was. Even the White Lady. Now we have an even more powerful tyrant as our king! We can’t keep letting ourselves become playthings for monsters!”

“Call them a monster one more time and I’ll feed ya to Xena’s beast, and the beast chews slowly.” Tiso narrowed his eyes at the bug on the other side of the bars. He could roughly hear the other prisoners being tossed in their cells as well. Judging by the echoes, they were spouting the same nonsense and getting zero sympathy for it. “You’re a fucking idiot, you think you can just kill our Kings like that? King Ghost killed the Radiance, for fucks sake!”

The cricket smiled through their broken mandibles, dribbling hemo over their cloak. “No, we can’t kill the tyrant, but we can hurt them.”

Tiso stared, shocked by the words. A very bad feeling sat in his gut, and was quickly vindicated when Cloth rounded the corner.

“Tiso!” she shouted. “It’s Quirrel!”

“Yeah?” The bad feeling grew stronger and he desperately prayed to whatever was listening, that the next words out of his love's mouth wasn’t going to be bad news.

“Quirrel...he's...He’s been poisoned!”

Tiso’s world went numb, and all he could hear was the insane laughter of the prisoner behind him.

[imaginesmai]

Mob!Tom Holland - Fawn (3)

This is inspired by  Don’t play with fire , @peaceisadirtyword. It’s an amazing Ivar fic, take a look if you have time!

Third part is here! Finally more Tom and reader, I hope you like it. I’ve decided to write an actual date of posting and the parts I’ve planned - and the link to those I’ve written - in the general summary. Click here to read the previous parts!

Plot: your second time at the club doesn’t go as expected, although it doesn’t mean it’s bad.

The make-up was much more lighter than last time, because you had insisted in doing it yourself. To Richard, it didn’t matter, because Tom had already seen you. Lisa was again talking a mile per hour by your side, trying to catch the bartender attention to make your order and hers.

With your clothes you hadn’t had that much luck. You were wearing some tight black jeans that didn’t let your breath if you bent an inch, and some loose red blouse that you had found in the back of your wardrobe by chance. You were grateful for it, because if it had been as tight as your trousers, you felt you would have shown the human float of fat that the jeans were pulling up. Still, the blouse let away enough cleavage for Richard to accept.

He was once more waiting outside with the black van, with a man you hadn’t had met yet and with the line open to talk to you. At your incessant requests and threats of not doing it, the line would always be open and ready for you in case something happened, yet you weren’t sure he would actually do anything if the situation came.

“I can’t believe you agreed to come for a second time” Lisa suddenly said, slumping on the place besides you. “The girls usually don’t go out on Monday’s, but I always want to!”

“Yeah, it was a surprise for me too” you mumbled and laughed humourless.

You had made up some story about how Richard was gone for the night and you wanted to be away for a while, because you were stressed and had had a lot of fun last time. She was so excited to go out again, that she didn’t care about what happened on Saturday, or the fact that you were with her less than five minutes.

But there were you again, with Lisa and with the same pit of dread on your stomach.

“If this keeps up, next thing we’re going to do is a wardrobe renovation” she motioned to your clothes with her chin. “This is the last time you’re seen with me so covered”

You gave her a small smile and looked forward again.

When Richard had told you the news that you had to come back, you had screamed and refused to do so. Sunday was gone between arguments and hurtful words, and Richard made everything he could think of to make you feel miserable. It wasn’t until that evening, when he had given you the pitiful look and had asked you to do it for him, that you had agreed.

The Hollands were supposed to be there too, in the VIP zone, and you had to enter somehow. You had been giving it sideway glances every now and then, but you could only see the blonde woman that had stared at you walking from one side to another. She hadn’t seen you, or you hoped so.

The drinks were slammed in the desk and you jumped, looking ahead. It was a great disappointment when the bartender wasn’t the same as the other day, but a young boy who you didn’t recognize. He had freckles all over his cheeks, a pointy noise and green eyes. He was cute, probably a few years younger than you, and Lisa was already on her way to a conversation with him.

The boy, clearly uncomfortable by the way Lisa was shoving up her breasts on the counter, left the bill and turned around to continue servicing. For a moment, you thought that Lisa might handle bad the rejection, because she turned a bit red on the tip of her ears and made a ball of the bill.

But then she smiled and took half of the drink in a big gulp.

“Well, he was too young to understand, anyway” she shrugged, and you looked at you. “Take your glass and let’s go dancing. I’m not leaving until I find someone”

“Try to go to the entrance of the VIP zone. Make sure Tom or any of his brothers see you”

You had almost forgotten that Richard was connected to your ear, and the second of surprise you gave him was enough for Lisa to take you by your arm and drag you across the floor. It would have been useless to try and redirect Lisa, because she was sure on her steps and walked until the group of boys she must have been eyeing were inches away from you.

The spot she had chosen was the farthest from the VIP class, and the closer to the DJ cabin. You were a few feet from the speakers, that made the ground shake with their volume. Space was the only thing you didn’t have close, because you were as tight as a sardine in a can. You watched as Lisa moved avoiding all the bodies close to you, while you received all the shoves by just standing still.

You hadn’t even taken your glass.

“Y/N?” Richard talked again. “Are you close to the VIP zone? Who is there?”

You looked to the VIP zone, and from that spot at least you could see a bit more of it. Since it was in a high place, you could only distinguish the heads, but the ginger curls only had one owner. The blonde girl was still coming and going around, and you noticed the other bartender with his back facing you. Apart from that, you could  hardly see anything else.

“Lisa” you called for her and leaned forward, trying to hear your own voice. She leaned in too, never stopping moving. “Could we, uh, move far from the speakers?”

“What?!”

“Can we move?!” you screamed back.

Lisa straightened up and shook her head swiftly, making her hair bounce up and down her shoulders. A hard push against your left side made you collide with the wall, and you bit back the pained whine in favour of not upsetting Richard. He had made it very clear that you couldn’t have the same attitude, although it was the one you always had.

“Well? Are you there?” Richard demanded, and there was some background noise.

The thing about the earpiece was that it felt horrible to be able to listen to it that close. You heard everything that happened there, a sneeze, a tap with the feet or even Richard’s breathing. Besides, in that moment you were getting swallowed by a mass of sounds and lights strong enough to make you feel dizzy.

Richard repeated himself, Lisa called your name, and you just turned back and ran.

-

Fresh air hit you in the face when you opened the back door, so hard that it made you stumble a little. It was more like freezing air rather than fresh, typical of the first nights of spring. The door closed behind you as you walked down the rough steps of the backdoor of the club, and silence welcomed you like a calming blanket.

You took a second to look at your surroundings, and discovered that you were on the other side of the building. Behind the club, there was a huge field with wild flowers and vegetation, where you used to take some mornings jogs early in summer. It wasn’t the dark alley you had imagined when you had discovered the door unlocked. And it was just what you needed, because as soon as you sat on the last step, you could feel everything coming back.

You had never been a fan of big crowds. Concerts, supermarkets or big parties wasn’t your type of scenario, but what you had just seen was worse than that. People were throwing themselves one to another, screaming and laughing too loud over the noise, and the music was making the walls vibrate. One thing was to experience it from the counter, where you heard the music loud.

But down there was demoniac.

“Y/N, why aren’t you answering me?” Richard, who had been talking nonstop since you came, interrupted the small peace. “The noise has stopped. Please, tell me you haven’t chickened out”

“I’m sorry” you said, sounding small and weak. The club had drained you whole. “I couldn’t –“

“Don’t come to me with the pathetic attitude” Richard snapped. “Go back inside and to the VIP zone”

“I can’t!” you tried to reason with him. “Rich, it’s horrible. There is – it’s noisy, sweaty and dark. You know I don’t do well in that places”

Richard was silent for a second, the same way he had been on Saturday’s night. He was disappointed, and you wondered if you could really go back there and walk into the VIP zone. Maybe Harry would recognize you and you could make a small conversation with him. He seemed pretty funny and outgoing, so if you talked about Lisa, maybe you could make Richard happy.

But you knew they were all empty reasons, because you couldn’t go back there without dropping on the spot. You were an interior designer, young and introverted, that spent more time reading at home that going out. No parties, no discos or pubs. Richard didn’t seem to see anything behind his job.

“Don’t wait me tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N” Richard said through the earpiece, venom dripping from every syllable. “You fucked up. Again”

The line went dead, and the small black and blue device got lost into the field when you threw it with all your might. Which wasn’t much, but it served to take him away from you.

You hid your face on your hands, curling around yourself and thinking about your possibilities. Richard had probably done the same again – leaving without you and going to spend the night drinking. The van wasn’t there anymore, Lisa wasn’t an option and you didn’t have money for calling a cab, because your purse was still inside.

At least you weren’t wearing the short dress, though the thin blouse offered you little comfort. You didn’t have more energy to cry, because you would have done that if you could. You thought about Richard and how your friends warned you about him when you started dating him. How even Lisa told you that he wasn’t a nice guy, but you didn’t listen. He had done things like that before; leaving you alone in your birthday because of the job, scorning you in front of his colleagues, and taking credits for things that were yours.

But you couldn’t leave him, because you loved him. Even if you couldn’t go back inside for him.

The door opening almost made you lost your balance, and you briefly noticed how clumsy and scared you had become the last days. Maybe, if you kept digging a hole on the floor with the tip of your boot and didn’t look to the stranger, they wouldn’t notice you. The door closed and the noise was gone again, leaving you knowing there was someone behind you that you didn’t want to acknowledge.

A faint smell you recognized from somewhere hit your nostrils when the stranger moved, and soon you felt warmer than before.

“Hey fawn”

Tom’s voice was a huge contrast with the last one you had heard. While Richard had been cold and angry, full of disappointment, Tom’s held something you couldn’t understand. He moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to startle you as he sat by your side on the third and last step of the rough stairs. A pair of black, expensive shoes appeared beside yours, looking much larger and comfortable too.

You followed their owner and faced Tom Holland for the second time in your life, who was as breath taking as the first one. His clenched jaw greeted you when you looked at his face, but he wasn’t looking at you. Tom was looking at the field in front of you, in a relaxed attitude that didn’t seem much like the mob’s leader he was.

A small half smile started to form on his lips, as one of his elbows rested on the step behind you.

“Cat got your tongue again?” Tom looked at you briefly, and you looked away. You felt your cheeks heating up. “Are you going to run off again?”

“No” you quickly answered, and you surprised yourself with the calm response you gave him. “I was – I didn’t mean to leave”

“But you did” Tom pointed out. You could feel his eyes fixed on the side of your face, but you went back to your previous foot movements. “Was I making you uncomfortable?”

You realised, that you didn’t have an answer to that. Had Tom Holland made you uncomfortable? You certainly didn’t have the best time of your life in your last encounter, but probably it had to be more with Jacob and Richard and less with him. Again, you didn’t feel uncomfortable in that moment. You pursed your lips and tried to think of something to say, because you were sure he would know if you lied again.

“I’m not a fan of this kind of place” you shrugged, and high-fived yourself. “Too much noise, and people”

“Then why it’s the second time I see you at my club?”

At his question, you turned your head to look at him. Tom’s eyes weren’t hard or threatening, they just held curiosity. For a moment, you got lost in how beautiful they looked. Richard used to say that brown eyes were the most boring thing in the world, because unlike blue or green, they didn’t say anything. Tom’s eyes weren’t boring, you thought.

“My friend Lisa” you said.

You realised when the words left your mouth that you were talking between almost whispers, in such a soft tone that it seemed almost like sharing a secret. Some cricket sounded in the distance, but you kept looking at Tom. It wasn’t like looking at Richard’s eyes when you had an argument, to see who had more power in their eyes. It was just simple gazing, like the stars.

Tom’s lips curved into a smile finally, and some wrinkles appeared around his eyes. His whole face changed when he smiled, as if he was a different person trying to break free. He moved a little and, from behind his back, took two objects that widened your eyes and let your mouth hang open.

He chuckled and extended his arm towards you. Hanging from it, stood the jacket you had brought to the club on Saturday, and that you had totally forgotten about. You hadn’t even thought about it since then. And then, on his large hand, was the small purse you had chosen for that day, that only had a bunch of pounds and your lipstick.

Still, you were extremely grateful when you took both of them and dropped the jacket around your shoulders. It had been the only thing Richard had let you choose, a thick green and soft jacket that couldn’t possibly match with any of your clothes. But he knew you would take it off inside, so he let you.

“Picked up the jacket the other day, and I noticed it was yours even if I barely caught your name” Tom commented, still looking at you. “Good thing I found the purse too”

“I did give you my name” you pointed out with a small smile, and returned to your original position to look at him.

“I know” Tom said, and his eyes widened a little for a second. The blush you had spotted on Saturday made its appearance on his cheeks, before Tom got it under control. “I mean – I remembered. I have a good memory, that’s all”

You decided that, since he hadn’t ratted you out for any of your lies although you were positive he could see past them, you decided to pass the way his voice lost his confidence. Your smiled widened even more and your shoulders slumped. Even if it was only the second time you spoke to him, you decided you liked when Tom Holland’s blush appeared. For all you know, there could be guns and knives under his clothes; but you didn’t care.

It hit you then that Tom was outside with you, but you didn’t know why. You could have sworn that he wasn’t in the VIP zone before, and that he had come outside with your jacket and purse let you know that he knew you were outside before opening the door. You let your smile drop a little, a sudden itch growing on the back of your neck.

If he knew you had been back there, he could have seen you talking to Richard.

“You’ve asked me why I was out” you asked, and the scared fawn Richard mocked you for was back. Your voice was hesitant and more of a question than an affirmation, but you kept going. “And you? Did you… follow me?”

The accusation, although it was as threatening as a bunny with a plastic stick, made Tom go rigid. He straightened his back and leaned over, so close that your shoulders brushed and your brain screamed at you. Quickly, you casted your eyes down and felt how your whole body started to tremble. Everyone knew who Tom was, so you comforted yourself saying that it was a normal reaction.

You were ready to be another corpse by the Holland’s mob or be the victim of some slaughtering. Maybe Richard would finally realize that the job was too much for you. When they showed your decomposed body to him. Or maybe he would be happy because you finally interacted with one of the Hollands.

“I was just making sure you were alright”

You looked up so quickly that for a second everything had black spots, but you managed to see Tom’s face already fixed on you. You didn’t really know when a man was lying or telling the truth, although with Richard you were becoming vaguely aware of that. The naïve girl in you was slowly turning more suspicious, and usually you caught Richard when his apologies weren’t sincere; lately, a lot of times.

You tried to convince yourself that Tom wasn’t being sincere, but the same voice who told you when Richard was lying, was then calm and quiet.

“The guy of the other day was clearly molesting you, and since you’re too good to call him out, I decided I could keep an eye on you” Tom explained. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stalk you or –“

“Why didn’t you do anything then?” you interrupted him, but Tom didn’t seem to mind. Another rule made by Richard thrown by the window. “If you knew he was… that”

“Because you didn’t want to” Tom answered, as if it was the most obvious thing. “I don’t beat people for fun. It might seem, uh, weird. Please, don’t think it’s weird, but I don’t like seeing you upset? Honestly, it just – okay, it’s weird. You can say it”

Tom’s cheeks were more than blushed, you realized. They were coloured by a bright pink that made his nose scrunch and the tips of his ears become red. He wasn’t looking like the threatening leader Richard described you, more like someone who played scrabble and stuttered a lot.

Surprising both of you, your mouth decided to work without your brain once more.

“I don’t think it’s weird, it’s cute”

Your smile went back to normal once more, because Tom seemed loss of words and was looking adorable. He opened his mouth to say anything else, but a noise startled the both of you.

Some meters away, on the other corner of the building, were two people. Just from looking at the back of her head you could say Lisa was making out with someone, and by Tom’s groan you knew the other person was Harry. They were heavily making out against the wall, and the noise had been an empty bottle falling to the ground. Lisa was practically already fucking the twin, her tongue shoved into his throat and her hands running all over his head.

You cringed when one of his hands rose up her dress and gave away the black lace panties she was wearing, and she let out a loud moan. Still with their mouths locked, they both moved again and rolled to the other wall of the corner, from where you could still hear them.

Tom had buried his head between his arms and was mumbling some angry things about his brother, but you could appreciated the small smile.

Just then, you decided to look the clock on his wrist, and noticed that it was past three in the morning. You were aware suddenly of the way the jeans were squeezing your legs, how the boots where destroying the feet, and how your stomach was being compressed into the size of a nut. Tom raised his head, and peeked out to see if his brother was gone. When he checked so, he sighed and ran his hands through his face.

“At least he wasn’t naked yet” he said, and you gave him a full belly laugh. It was genuine, because Tom implicating that he had seen Harry naked with a girl had its fun, as both of them were gangsters. “Oh, besides talking you laugh. That’s – that’s a really nice noise”

It was as if Richard was behind you, telling you to laugh quieter because you were disturbing the show he was watching, or laugh less because his friends might think you were weird. You coughed and finally got up, gripping your purse with one hand and closing the jacket with the other.

Tom frowned and got up too. He wasn’t too tall, neither as big as some of Richard’s friends. But when he crossed his arms, through his shirt you could see the outline of a hard work every day.

“I should get going” you pointed to nowhere really. “Um, it’s late and I have to work tomorrow”

“Where is your car?” Tom asked. “Because that alley can be pretty full of people like Jacob.”

“Oh, I don’t – I’m calling a cab” you chuckled, a pang of hurt knowing you couldn’t call Richard for a ride. “Or an Uber. There must be someone close”

“None sense, let me drive you”

You wondered if that was a good idea. Richard wasn’t going to come home for the night, and besides, even if you spent most of the days together, his official apartment was on the other side of the city. If there wasn’t an Uber or a cab around, you would have to walk home; which you didn’t want to do again, because you were cold and your feet hurt.

But the idea of saying yes to Tom wasn’t appealing neither. Even if you had had your history of trusting guys who had hurt you before, you thought you had drawn the line with the mob’s one. Before you could answer, you stomach made it for you, doing an awful and embarrassing loud noise.

“We can stop to eat something first” Tom chuckled. “I know a place who is open, and has the best hamburgers in London. What do you say, fawn? Up for a night drive?”

When you were back home, alone, you were going to have a serious conversation with your pillow or mirror. Because if your mouth kept moving before your brain, you would have a lot of problems in the days to come.

“Lead the way”

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Holland/ Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash

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Tom Holland Fawn taglist:

@averyfosterthoughts​

@killerqueenvibes​

@spideylovin​

@fantastic-fans​

@addictofsupernatural​

@americaswritings​

@itsjusttor​

@sunflxwer99​

@dramione-winchester-mccall​

@nicolettalauren​

@coveredinthemessimade​

@spideydobik​

@runway-to-my-aid​

@yeahimcrying​

@herondale-snow-carstairs​

@softstarkk​

@atomicwinneralienhairdo

[ahwuum]

I absolutely love freewood with mute! Ryan and bcs this is me, how about throwing some angst into it? Like Ryan and Gav went undercover and things goes just as planned UNTIL Gav mis-steps and their disguise was blown. One of the bad guys get to Gav when they were seperated and Gav didnt realise the bad guy but Ryan did and he tried to warn gav but oh god he cant talk and gav too far away to notice him and the bad guys aiming his gun at Gav and Ryan sprinting to save him but the gun when off...

Yesss I love this so much omg! I decided to write a little something for it quick, sorry it took a while aha

‘All clear?’ Ryan signs to him once they’ve creeped up along the walls of the complex to the entry door, waiting while Gavin checks the security cameras from his phone.

‘Yep, the loop’s started now, so we have a few minutes before the next guard makes his round, but it shouldn’t take much longer than a minute to transfer the files. Let’s go.’ Gavin signs back, grinning and giving him a thumbs up before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the keycard he’d swiped from the guard at the gate and pressing it against the scanner.

Green light. Go.

They move quickly, quietly, the layout of the entire underground complex committed to both of their memories by this point. The server room they need to get to is down a set of stairs, through another locked door and then on the left.

It’s so easy it’s like they’re begging to have all their information stolen.

Bank details, safe house locations, weapons stache, upcoming deals, heist plans, active jobs, all invaluable information that the FAHC could definitely use. All conveniently held in the one server room in an underground complex that, sure, has plenty of armed guards and locked doors that you need a keycard to get through, but beyond that has almost no security.

It’s so easy that Ryan starts to think that maybe they are begging to have their information stolen, especially as they get further in and still come across no guards.

Of course, that had been part of the plan, only one guard making the rounds of this particular wing, and no foreseeable reason as to why any other guards would be down in this area. But it makes him nervous.

What kind of crew leaves their server room so unprotected? What kind of crew would even put all of their information on the one server that could so easily be broken into? What kind of crew—especially one this big—would leave just one guard standing watch at the only way into their secret underground complex?

He slows down only for a moment as his creeping suspicion becomes genuine concern and anxiety, head swivelling around as he tries to spot anything amiss around them.

In the time he takes to look around, Gavin’s gone ahead of him, unaware that Ryan’s stopped as he continues toward the door. He notices too late that Gavin’s going to open it, that he hasn’t come to the same realisation as Ryan and he’s going to open that door and get shot-

‘Gavin, wait!’ He signs frantically, trying to wave his arms in the hope that the blur of motion might catch in the corner of Gavin’s eye and he might turn to look.

In the moment he wishes desperately for his voice back. He hasn’t had it since he was a child, mouth probably doesn’t even remember how to form words anymore, but-

But if he could just yell, just get Gavin’s attention so he can save his damn life because he’s too far to run and stop him before he’ll open the door and his brain is running on too much adrenaline to remember that he could clap his hands, could hit the glass window next to him or-

Gavin presses the key card against the lock. Green light. Go.

He’s shot before he can even get the door fully open, body tumbling backwards like a doll being tossed onto the floor. Luckily, the door closes with him and Ryan’s bolting to catch up to him, picking him up bridal style and holding him tight against his chest as he turns heal and sprints in the other direction.

They knew.

They fucking knew.

Deciding the fact that their crew having a fucking mole is something he’ll be pissed about later, he instead focuses all his energy on slowing his brain down enough that he can remember the layout like before, remember what hallways go where so he can find an alternate exit because he knows that this crew isn’t stupid enough to leave the way they came in clear. There’s probably a dozen guards already waiting.

He can’t even let the rest of the crew know what’s going on; he doesn’t have a comm (for obvious reasons) and Gavin’s got lost somewhere in the chaos. They’re completely alone, no way to ask for help now.

Gavin’s practically limp against him, barely clutching onto him with trembling fingers as his eyes look around blankly like a drunk person’s. He’s gulping air like a fish out of water, rasping and coughing, blood dribbling out of his gaping mouth and rolling down his neck.

It’s not a pretty sight.

Ryan’s seen worse in all his years, sure, but nothing could compare to seeing Gavin with a bullet in both his shoulder and his gut.

They’re lucky he only got tagged twice, fuck.

It could have been so much worse. It could have been so much worse, but it also could have been avoided completely, if he had have just been able to warn him-

“Ryan,” Gavin rasps out, his eyes starting to focus more as the shock wears off a little, “Ryan, go through that door on the right.”

He follows without thinking (though perhaps he should have taken a moment to think twice about it considering the fact that Gavin looks ready to pass out), the door opening up to what looks like a break room. It’s small, with a tiny kitchen stuffed into the corner and a few shitty little tables scattered about.

It’s a dead end, they’re trapped.

He purses his lips and glares down at Gavin accusingly since he can’t really use his hands now, though he’s not sure if that even comes across through his skull mask.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re thinking I’m an idiot now, aren’t you?” Gavin laughs weakly, reaching up with a bloodied hand to give the side of his mask a couple of patronising taps, “but even when I’m shot I’m bloody brilliant; I might’ve just saved your life.”

Ryan looks down at him questioningly, then turns his gaze to the room. There really is nothing special in here; a fridge, a sink, some countertops with a microwave sitting on top, a few cabinets and a vending machine—nothing they can use!

He’s about to drop him on the ground out of pure spite when Gavin rolls his eyes, grabs his chin through the mask and tilts it upwards.

There, up on the wall right above the fridge, is an air vent.

He looks down at Gavin incredulously like he’s the biggest moron alive, deciding to set him down in one of the chairs so he can actually talk.

‘Are you an idiot? This isn’t like in the movies, Gav! There’s no way we’ll fit in there!’

“Relax,” Gavin says, holding onto his side as he slumps down in the chair, “don’t you remember what I said? This is an old building, industrial. Used to be a factory decades ago and they’re still in the middle of renovating. That means the vents are bigger, they needed them to be to pump out all the fumes right? Might be tight but you can do it.”

Ryan looks over at the vent. It is quite big, but big enough to fit a person? Let alone someone as big and bulky as he is? No.

He loves Gavin dearly, but he really does want to strangle the lights out of him right now for being this stupid.

“So you go, I’ll hold them off as long as I can, it’ll be impossible to take me with you in there-” Ryan cuts Gavin off as he’s pulling his pistol from his boot, grabbing his wrist and kneeling so Gavin is looking at his eyes through the mask.

‘I won’t fit. Won’t leave you either. We’re just going to have to fight our way out. Might be harder now since we’re stuck in here and they’re probably already surrounding us-’ Ryan signs, pausing as they hear sets of boots running past the door, ‘but I trust you to cover me. We’ll get out of this.’

“Ryan, just go! I’m already shot, I’m just dead weight to you now so stop being a prick and just-”

Ryan huffs, stomping over to the fridge, climbing up onto the countertop and reaching up to yank the cover from the vent. He tries to crawl in just a little, pushing against the fridge and trying to shove his shoulders through the gap, but no use. Like he’d thought, it’s way too small.

‘See?’ He signs as he climbs back down, returning to Gavin.

“Oh,” he says softly, “I really thought it’d be big enough… And this vent leads right outside near the gate, too! It would have been perfect. God, I’m so sorry Ryan, I’m such an idiot. I didn’t save you, I’ve doomed us both!”

Ryan sighs and kneels back down in front of Gavin, cupping a hand to his cheek for a moment. When he pulls it back, it leaves a trail of Gavin’s own blood on his face.

‘It’s alright, maybe those guys we heard run by earlier came from the entry. We might be able to double back and go out the way we came, now. Or we’ll just have to fight our way out. Either way, I’ll make sure we get back home.’

Gavin takes a moment, then nods shakily, resting his gun against his thigh as Ryan hooks his arm underneath his knees and picks him up bridal style again.

They open the door quietly, Ryan peeking his head and looking around down the hallway for any guards before deciding it’s clear and pushing ahead.

They hadn’t made it very far into the building, the set of stairs they came down only a few hundred yards away and their path seemingly clear for now as Ryan jogs in a beeline for the stairs.

“Here!” He hears a guy yell from the hallway next to them, any further yelling silenced with a shot from Gavin’s pistol. All it takes is that one yell, that one shot for everyone to know where they are. Ryan’s booking it as fast as he can, now, just hoping that Gavin can manage to still shoot with his signature golden gun shaking in his hands.

His eyes are starting to droop, now.

Pushing through the burn in his legs and his lungs, Ryan makes his way to the stairs, climbing up them two at a time as Gavin starts to slump more and more in his arms, the gun in his hands starting to slip a little.

Come on, come on, he thinks, just a little longer, just a little longer…

They burst through the entry door at the top of the stairs, making it out onto the concrete courtyard before Ryan hears the familiar whirring of helicopter blades.

He looks up expecting the worst, expecting this shitty fucking crew to have had another surprise hidden up their sleeve as a helicopter starts to dip down towards the compound. Then he sees their logo.

He’s never felt so much relief as when he sees that familiar, stupid duck painting onto the side of the FAHC’s very own private helicopter; it’s possibly only rivalled by the relief he feels at seeing their entire crew out in force.

Jack’s piloting as usual, Michael and Jeremy hanging out from the side and firing bullets at the guards flooding up from downstairs, Fiona and Matt he can see doing the same from the other side, and Geoff hanging from a rope ladder, extending his hand down to Ryan as Jack lowers the helicopter enough to reach him.

“I’ve got you, we’ve got you.” Geoff yells over the whirring of the blades, yanking on Ryan’s jacket and holding him close as tightly as he can as he climbs onto the ladder. It’s an awkward task, what with Gavin in his arms, but eventually he manages to cling on and keep Gavin tight against his chest, Geoff climbing up above them until he’s back in the helicopter.

They pull the ladder back up slowly, Jack quickly veering the helicopter away from the complex as bullets fly all around them, some nicking the side and some whizzing just below the rotors, barely missing them all.

Eventually they’re pulled up into the helicopter as well, Ryan cushioning Gavin from the fall as they flop onto the floor. He doesn’t even need to look at him to know that he’s passed out by now.

In fact he doesn’t want to look at him, knowing that all he’ll see is an all-too-pale face and copious amounts of blood covering them both. Instead he sits up, presses his back against the door that Michael’s just shut behind him and holds Gavin tightly in his lap.

They made it.

“We heard shots going off through Gav’s comm, came as soon as we could.” Jeremy says as Geoff moves back to his seat in the front and everyone starts buckling back in again, looking over at Ryan and Gavin with worry, “You alright?

Ryan takes a shuddering breath, peeling his hands off Gavin’s back carefully and wincing when they come back sticky with blood.

“No,” he signs, hands shaking, “No, I’m not.”

Ok this is done aa, thank you for this lovely ask!!

Oh and just as an end note: this absolutely never happens again. After this Gavin helps make Ryan a new comm that he can use different commands with to say different things when he can’t get the attention of the others and he needs to say something to them. It’s very limited but it’s basically just so they know to look at him/can be warned/can be given answers to questions when Ryan has to break off from the rest of the guys during a heist gone wrong or something

Gavin probably spends WEEKS on it non-stop after seeing how upset and guilty Ryan feels at not being able to warn him.

[acefrogmonarch]

HC pt. 2

Some of these might have been on the other HC but if it is, don't worry there's is a lot of new ones.

Take this as canon to my story. Season 3 in MLB. It didn't happen but I'll acknowledge some things and change a lot. Like a lot.

Them as vines!

The only time Tim has used bruces money was to buy a hoverboard to go around the house saying whatever they had for lunch or dinner. In the simplest form of that meal.

"We are having Chestnut bisque for dinner." Tim is the first one to know and he gets to his hoverboard and gets a ladle. "We got Soup!" His hand has a motion of scoping up some soup as he rides.

Damian recording as Todd drives, singing, and blasting white girl music.

Dick was going to surprise Damian by taking him out of school for the day, his phone was already in his hand because he didn’t tell him before. He spotted Damian, just in time to see him throw Jon against the lockers.

Tim has a set of keywords that activate the law and order sound. Any speaker around him is put up in the highest setting and blast it through the air.

Ace doesn’t let Tim touch anything Damian has. For one week Tim hasn’t touched the bat computer. He’ll never forgive Ace.

Ace accidentally biting bruce’s dick. It was the first dinner with Marinette and they all wanted to make a good impression. They were all eating dinner and Bruce, mid-bite just makes a noise.

Marinette looks over and he’s looking at Damian, who was also mid-bite. "Dog.” It’s all he says, its chaos after that.

The boys scramble to look under the table. After they do, they can’t stop laughing and Marinette doesn’t move from her spot.

Okay, I want to clear this up for my self, Marinette found out that Damian was robin on accident.

Marinette and Damian didn't interact at all but he has been seen outside of school waiting for somebody. Lila had this 'grand idea' to set them up together. Alya, the 'master' setup. Dragged a delirious Marinette to Chloe's hotel.

"Come on Mari, it's a sleepover!" Marinette couldn't handle this. Just before she had texted Adrien that she was going to Chloe's place for a "sleepover". But Mari didn't believe it. It was 2300 and her 'bedtime' they knew not to bother her. She already took her medicine and it was kicking in.

Alya opened the door and shoved Marinette in, stumbling back, she fell on her butt. Looking around she saw the bathroom light on, but immediately noticed how small it was to Chloe's usual room.

Stumbling to look at her she couldn't help but drag to the bathroom. Opening the sewing kit in there and sticking a needle in her inner thigh. She woke up and carried it around.

"What did you do this time Lila." Groaning as she got up, she limped out to the foyer in time to hear someone open the window.

Turning around She found Robin, mask in hand to be Damian. Damian, on the other hand, didn't understand how this could happen. He was supposed to be alone in his hotel room. Why was Marinette here? It doesn't matter gotta 'fix' this.

At first, Damian attacked her to keep her silent but once she attacked back, they were at a stalemate.

They kept up with each other for hours.

Marinette slipped into the night, leaving him as people knocked on his door. For months, they didn't speak, nor did they meet up as their alter-egos.

Mari actively went out of her way to ignore him. She was furious at him and Damian couldn't care less about her feelings, only mad that he couldn't threaten her to keep his identity secret.

It wasn't until Nightwing talked to Mari. It wasn't until Chat Noir went to fetch him for a bad fight with an Akuma. It wasn't until Ladybug had revealed to be Marinette.

"you know, with someone having a superpower of 'Luck'. You sure make a mess of yourself."

"Whatever. You know my secret and I know yours. Do what you will with it."

They get closer once everything was resolved. Damian got better at handling people, Mari went tougher on people. Slowly falling in love, over the years.

But that's a story for another time.

Before reveal maybe year 2 to 3 italics are in English or another language if it isn’t in English, I’ll clarify

How Chat Noir and Selena first met. “Did you steal my look?” Chat grabs his tail looking her over and he dramatically throws his tail in disgust. “No kitty cat, you stole mine.”

Selena doesn’t realize that she’s been on Marinette’s roof for months. But she does notice how the same ravenette helps kids and kittens in need and sneak some snacks if they look often enough. She’s okay in her book.

The first time Marinette and Selena meet, she was on her balcony caring for her plants. Spray bottle of water on her hand, she hears a heavy ‘thump’ on her roof. Calling out Marinette points her bottle as a gun, just in case. “Chat?”

Selena pokes her head through and sees this small little girl look at her. “This was supposed to be an easy job” Confused, Marinette tilts her head slightly. “What was easy?” Marinette barely began studying English, now she’s thankful that she’s taken the subject seriously.

Marinette was about to be mugged the second time they interact. Chat Noir had been on patrol while Catwoman was on her way to another job. “Hey, there little lady.”

That stopped Catwoman in her tracks. Looking over in the opening of the alley, low and behold, there’s Marinette. Clutching her purse for dear life. Perched on the building behind the mugger is Chat Noir.

They both jump at the same time, noticing each other as they nod in understanding. Before they reach the ground, Marinette already has the mugger on the floor, groaning in pain.

Yearly road trip!

At first, it was the fair or occasional Carnival just outside of town but once the boys grew in numbers and added their interest, they started to fight who’s turn it was yearly.

When Damian joined, it was Tim’s turn and like the year before they got ready to go to another cluster of conventions in L.A. for weeks

Jason would suggest Disney world but always go to Universal Studio for Harry Potter.

Dick goes to stupid places that are weird, like the “Worlds Biggest Yarnball!” Other than that he takes pictures of food in his mouth and post it on Instagram. One moment he’s in New York City with a rainbow Bagel. The next he’s in Canada eating Timbits.

Yes, that’s an actual food item in Canada. They look like doughnut holes but better.

Go soccer baseball! (It's kickball to you, Americans.)

Anyway back to HC.

Babs doesn’t go half the time, but she always down when it’s her turn and she goes all out. Babs mostly goes for the tech conventions but once Dick, Tim, and Steph saw drone racing in Dubai.

They always went to Dubai after that. Damian thinks the drones are mini helicopters and get fascinated by them. He’ll never admit it.

They bribe Lucas to make a custom Duck boat if Lucas gets to go one time. “Y’all are white rich kids, but take me some time.”

Babs decked it out with Video games on the bilge (lower layer of the boat) while where the girls stay on top of the fantail.

They take the road trip very seriously. And literally. They drive. Everywhere.

In the open water, Babs keeps a bucket of chum to throw in the water to attract sharks. The first time it happens dick and Jason ‘freak out’ and reenact Jaws. Tim gets annoyed very quickly, he just wants to play video games. Bruce always stayed in at the wheel.

He can't choose between the boys and girls so he stays there. Once Marinette joined she switches constantly but once she's tired, she stays with bruce to nap.

Steph would go to places outside of the US for Instagram worthy food. Like Dragons Beard in China and Jiggly Cheesecake in Japan.

Cass likes to visit quiet places. Like the renovated Opera house turned Library. No one argues as much on her trip, and they enjoy the peace and scenery. Templo Expiatorio del Santisimo Sacramento, Mexico has been on her list but she always spots something else.

Marinette wants to go to Milan, Italy for Fashion week but she doesn’t plan the trip, the rest of the batfam does. They get her to spill where she would go if she ever got the chance.

They also don't tell her until they show up at the Bakery doorsteps. Honking in a custom Duck Boat, there's Dick Grayson, hanging out of the side yelling “Get in loser we’re going shopping.”

"THE BoWlS MARI. THE BOWLS!!"

"I won't even attempt to try this much effort with anyone else, just marry me instead, Mari. Don't let me indulge to stand another second of insufferable humans." This is how Damian proposes.

Damian having a mild innocence.

Like not knowing what tampons or pads are used for, and asking Bruce about it. Bruce panics for a solid minute before answering. "I'll tell you later." He doesn't.

Jason and dick don't think it's true so they tease him. Dick tried to be subtle by saying Steph was on 'her time of the month.' Jason bulldozed through saying she was stocking up on tampons.

"What are tampons used for." They tell him it's to cover women's vagina. He'll never admit to them that he thought they were to cover battle wounds.

Damian is very weirded when he finds out that Dick or his father having sex with a stranger.

 "You're not supposed to do that." Is his immediate thought.

"Dick, stop having sex with her if you don't plan on marrying her!"

Damian promptly leaves the room. "Where are you going little D?”

Stomping away, "To plan a wedding." He slams the door.

The first time Marinette tries to cuddle Damian, he freaks out.

"Woah, Angel, wait till marriage." Marinette just looks at him confused.

"What do you mean???? This is perfectly fine before marriage."

"Not in my culture!"

Jason and Dick weren't afraid of Marinette before. But ever since 'the Kitchen™" incident' they haven't walked in when she visits.

The Kitchen™ incident as followed.

Sleep-deprived Mari! & Tim! Mari still had ingredients out, she was making coffee cake for them since Tim asked for some "fre sh a voca do" for their desert.

M: Could you put the Ingredients away?

T: What dog? When did we get the dogs in here?

M: What?

T: Did you not say dog?

M: I thought you said you wanted to eat a dick.

T: What?! Mari I don't eat ass.

They were surrounding the island, both were crouched

M: You're not getting my milk.

Tim was moving his arms around and flipped over the island and grabbed the milk, he ran out with Mari following him.

M: No my MALK!!

Damian walked in much later to see where Mari was.

T: Do you know the muffin man?

D: The Muffin Man?

T: The Muffin man

Mari left to find Dami and heard that as she was coming in.

M: Shes married the muffin man.

Damian promptly forgot why he wanted to find her in the first place and leaves. Just silently going "wtf"

They would laugh so much they laid down on the floor, once the timer beeped, Marinette stumbled her way to the oven, accidentally stepping on Tim as well.

Why do they do that?! Both dick and Jason didn't wanna witness any more of this weirdness.

Every time, anybody in the bat fam is hurt, there is a speaker nearby with the CoD 1 zombie 'Game over' soundtrack. Ready to play. It's why common crooks stop hurting them because they can't escape the sound.

Tim did it on accident because he was sleep-deprived but he just kept the algorithm.

His usual response when attacks don't hurt him is. "Mothertrucker dude, that hurt like a buttcheek on a stick"

Jason and Tim mess with Penguin, once penguin caught on that they were only attacking at dusk. He started calling them Dusk Boys™.

"God damn dusk boys. Get off my lawn!"

Mariette witnesses it and coined the term, "Dusking it up." whenever someone was a little shit.

Damian got a kazoo one day, someone 'gave' it to him as they ran away. "It's a social experiment!" More like throwing it in his face. Once he got home he played it. Marinette was visiting for a while.

He showed her first and Tim was with her in the living room, eating cake. After he played it, they both went batshit crazy. Once they aren't sleep deprived, Damian 'serenades' Mari with the kazoo. It's during the next patrol and its right after they beat up another criminal.

She was very surprised and so was everybody else. 1 they are usually so profession about this and not announcing their presence or joking around. It's why she got so much done with him. 

2 She kind of enjoyed it???

Marinette finds herself in Dick.

Since everyone went to the pair to vent or find advice. Marinette sees them struggling and slows down with them. Taking things from scratch, be it subjects they struggle with or talking about people.

Dick can relate because not everyone is willing to talk to others besides Dick. They share tips on how to help. Mari gets ideas on how to talk to others about self-love and dick gets advice that he is doing all he can and more. 

Jason and Mari patrol together and spar together too often. Like when they both don’t want to hold back. Afterward, they get ice cream.

Mari never takes credit because she doesn't want to seem like a brat. But she also doesn't want to turn people down because she loves to help.

So she does her work, invites them in and hangs out with them and doesn't shut them out. She sets a group chat for people struggling in math and science. She also has a weekly get together for emotional support, "It doesn't matter what it is, just say it!" She invites Chloe one time and they have deep conversations about family issues and attitude issues.

Monthly shows.

Mari, Adrien, and Dick sing (ABBA) and dress up, they just call it a show. But once Mari does parkour and acrobatic moves they go on the tightrope.

She doesn't push dick and always uses the net, once dick explains why he didn't want to go in the first place. They take it slow. Explaining moves on the ground and different verbal signals to call out for a new movie or stop.

"I played you like the cheap Kazoo you are." Damian when he gets played by Mari in a game. It was Risk.

They are all instruments. Every single one of them. But their price is on a very wide range. It all depends on their mood.

Some are cooking supplies. "What a tool." No one in the mlb crew likes it.

[7-wonders]

As Above, So Below

Summary: Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Word Count: 2234

A/N: I’m so excited to publish my first multi-chapter story! This is a Michael Langdon AU based off of the Hades/Persephone myth. Feedback is always appreciated, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this first chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Hour of Our Departure | Read Ch. 2 HERE | Read Ch. 3 HERE | Read Ch. 4 HERE | Read Ch. 5 HERE | Read Ch. 6 HERE | Read Ch. 7 HERE | Read Ch. 8 HERE | Read Ch. 9 HERE | Read Ch. 10 HERE | Read Ch. 11 HERE | Read Ch. 12 HERE |

The Prince of Hell has a secret.

To be fair, Michael Langdon, the Lord of the Underworld, has many secrets. Those are secrets that he’d be proud to share, ones that would have creatures across all realms cowering at his feet in fear, awe, and envy. If this particular secret was to get out, he would be the laughing-stock of Hell.

Michael Langdon has feelings for a human. He wants to shudder at the mere acknowledgement of that; he’s not supposed to have feelings of happiness, joy, or love. The only happiness he ever feels is when he’s watching the tormented souls of the damned burn in pits. But now, whenever he lays eyes upon this woman, this mortal, he can almost feel his heart start to beat.

It’s ironic, to him, that one of the purest beings he’s ever seen lives next to a Hellmouth. Those who reside on the mortal coil know this particular portal as the Murder House, a structure in which his demons love playing. The house on one side is occupied by dust and rats, the old tenants having moved out when they saw the red skies and flocks of crows. On the other side, a house has been converted to a boarding house occupied by college students. College students are some of the best souls to take as they can be easily persuaded into dangerous situations, which has made for an enjoyable two years for some of his soul collectors working in this area. As far as the neighbors are aware, the so-called “Murder House” is undergoing a very, very long string of renovations.

In all of Michael’s centuries of ruling Hell, he’s seen the Earth change immensely. Civilizations have rose and fallen, wars have been fought, people have been born and people have died. But never has Michael been as captivated by someone as he is by you.

He often wonders what it is that draws him towards you. Is it the bright smile you always seem to have for him and everyone you pass? Could it be your choice of fashion, the pinks and blues and greens that adorn your body, so much different than his usual red and black attire? Your body itself is a whole different story for Michael. He’s seen some of the most beautiful women to ever walk the Earth, and yet they don’t hold a candle towards you.

Michael Langdon can list a million reasons why he thinks that he loves you, which is why he’s hoping that you won’t come to hate him for what he’s about to do. Although the events soon to transpire have long since been prophesied, the idea of prophecies are a very difficult thing for mortals to understand. He stands in front of the ornate mirror, watching as two servants finish dressing him. They’ve decided on his finest cloak for this occasion, beautiful silver fastenings keeping it up around his neck. A simple black suit with a red tie accompanies a swipe of red powder on the inner corners of his eyelids.

“Sire, are you sure that there’s no easier way to go about this?” Hecate, or Madison, as she preferred to go by nowadays, asks from the doorway. Michael glances at his most trusted advisor and longtime friend, shooing the servants away.

“Trust me, I’ve been trying to think of other ways. I just can’t see her believing that I’m the God of the dead without thinking I’m a crazy person. I need to show her.” Madison rolls her eyes, stalking over to Michael to redo his crooked tie.

“Just promise me that you won’t immediately resort to kidnapping a human woman and dragging her down here?” Michael shoots the woman a playful glare, batting her hands off of his tie.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a mean person.” Madison snorts at this, giving him one last glance before deeming him ready.

“Alright, Mr. Nice-Guy, you’re ready.” Michael’s palms break into a sweat, which he didn’t even know was possible until now. Letting out two sharp whistles, he waits for the sound of paws bounding down the hall. Cerberus, the three-headed hellhound, tramples into the room and immediately sits, tail wagging behind him.

“You wanna go up above, buddy?” Michael rewards the dog with a pet on each of its’ heads when he starts joyfully barking.

“Ugh, you’re taking the mutt? That’ll impress her.” Madison scoffs, watching as Michael puts a glamour on the dog. Suddenly, the once-huge beast is now the size of a normal labrador, complete with one head instead of three.

“(Y/N) likes dogs, and she’s met Cerberus multiple times.” When Michael turns his back, he hears what sounds like Madison coughing the word ‘whipped.’ He stiffens, but doesn’t turn around to take the bait. “You’re lucky I’m going to need you, or else I’d throw you in the ninth circle.” It’s an empty threat and they both know it. He and Cerberus make their way to the front of the palace, where there’s already a realm guard waiting to take the king to Earth.

“Good luck. You’re gonna need it with those looks!” Madison takes one last shot. Right before Michael’s form disappears, he flips off the delighted goddess.

You’re sitting under the shade of the large oak tree in the front yard, humming softly and working on some homework, when barking makes you look up. A grin crosses your face when a large dog comes bounding out of the house next door, chasing a red bouncy ball. When the dog sees you, he immediately abandons his toy and charges towards you. Homework is suddenly forgotten when a giant mass of fur and slobber lands on top of you.

“Well, hello there Cerberus!” The dog sits next to you, nudging his head against your chin in an attempt to get petted. “Oh I know, it must be so rough being such a cute dog.” You oblige, gladly scratching behind his ear.

“At least I don’t ever have to worry about him going too far when you’re out here.” You look up to see the man whose beauty rivals the sun. Michael, from what you’ve deduced, owns the house next door and is often over there performing renovations himself. You smile shyly, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Be careful or else I might not let him leave next time.” You joke. You can’t help but to take note of his runway-like attire, putting your plain blue jeans and pink blouse to shame. “How do you renovate a house in a cloak, exactly?” Michael looks down, as if noticing for the first time how overdressed he is.

“I’m actually on my way to some business meetings. I had just stopped by to check on the new paint samples.”

“You seem to be making good progress on the house. Just last week it was new floors, right?” Michael nods, glancing from your face to the house.

“Would you like to take a look around? There’s been a lot of changes since the last time you snooped around inside.” Your face goes red at this. It had been a week after you first moved in with your new roommates. As a lover of the paranormal, it was basically impossible for you to not visit the infamous Murder House. When you had met Michael the following day, he mentioned that it was a delight to watch you ghost hunt through the security cameras, causing you to try and avoid him as much as possible until the embarrassment died down.

“I thought the house was abandoned!” You make your case, taking Michael’s outstretched arm. “You’re always so proper, y’know?”

“How so?”

“I’ve never met a guy who wears cloaks and escorts women like he’s going to a gala, that’s all.”

“I haven’t noticed that. I was just raised in a different time, I suppose.” You laugh.

“‘Raised in a different time?’ Michael, you can’t be more than five years older than me.” He raises an eyebrow, almost challenging you.

“Five years is quite a difference.” He jokes. Grabbing the key from one of his pockets, he unlocks the door and swings it open with a flourish. “Have a look.”

The house really has changed since the last time you were here. Gone are the creepy murals with people dying, the mosaic windows and the wooden panelling straight out of the ‘70s. Now, the interior is clean, with wide windows, a stone fireplace and dark wood floors.

“Oh, it’s beautiful.” You say in awe, taking in every inch of the beautiful house. “Think you’ll finally be able to sell it?”

“I’ve actually become rather attached to this house.” Michael admits from the living room, where he’s glancing over some paperwork. Cerberus has settled on a rug, deciding now’s a good time for a nap. “I kind of want to keep it.”

“I don’t blame you.” An impish grin spreads on your face. “The ghosts haven’t scared you off?” Michael groans, playfully rolling his eyes.

“I should have known you would ask about the supposed ghosts that haunt these halls.”

“You’re telling me that with all of the knocking down walls and changing the floorplan of this place that you haven’t disturbed one of the souls that died here?” Michael has always been adamant that this is a perfectly normal house, albeit with a sordid history. “Just money-hungry people making up stories to get their fifteen minutes of fame,” he’s always responded to your questions.

“I don’t believe in ghosts, (Y/N). Maybe they just don’t believe in me, either.” He deadpans.

“Wow, you ever thought about motivational speaking?” You say sarcastically. “Did the city ever come to take away those weird jars with the body parts that Dr. Montgomery left here?” Dr. Montgomery, the ‘doctor to the stars’ in the ‘30s, ran a secret basement abortion clinic, where he also supposedly experimented with reanimation. It was gross, morbid, and a subject you were totally interested in.

“They did. We actually just started on the basement. I’m pretty sure we got all of the creepy stuff removed, but if you want you can help me sort through the items previous owners have left here.” Your eyes light up at this. Getting to look through antiques that each had their own story is extremely enticing. Michael, having already seen the gleam in your eyes, makes his way to the basement steps with his usual hands-behind-his-back gait.

The walk down to the basement is decidedly more creepy than the rest of the house. You’re not sure if it’s the general spookiness of basements or all of the illegal abortions performed down here, but you can feel a dark aura in the cavernous room. There’s an old claw-foot bathtub under one window, a couple of empty shelves, and a rocking chair that you swear is moving on its own.

“Oh jeez.” You whisper.

“Too scary for you?” A voice says in your ear. You jump, spinning and hitting Michael on the shoulder.

“You asshole! You’re lucky I didn’t punch you in the nose.” He looks entirely unimpressed at this, but you pretend to cock a fist anyways.

“Hmm, maybe next time. Most of the good stuff I’ve found is in this room.” Michael takes your shoulders and steers you towards a closed door at the opposite end of the basement. You’re not sure why, but a sense of dread fills you the closer you get to the door.

“Michael, I think I need to get going.” You say quietly, the dread increasing. You try to maneuver out of his grasp, but his grip on you only tightens.

“Just a little look, and then you can go.” Without anyone touching it, the door opens. Wind whips around you, a smell of- is that brimstone?- fills the air, and you can hear screaming from miles down. A cavernous pit stares back at you, its mouth wide and welcoming. You shriek and elbow Michael in the stomach.

He doubles over in pain, allowing you your chance. You sprint for the stairs, tripping over Cerberus, who’s not sure why you’re yelling. You yelp when your palms scrape across the rough wood, ripping open the top layer of skin. There’s no time to waste, so you haul yourself back up and try to remember the way to the front door.

“Help, he’s going to kill me!” You scream, hoping that one of your roommates will hear your calls and save you. The open front door slams shut when you’re mere feet away, startling you. A pair of strong arms wraps around you, picking you up like you weigh nothing and hauling you back downstairs. Michael ignores your screams completely, even trying to hush you.

“Michael, please don’t kill me. Just let me leave and I won’t tell anyone.” You mutter, twisting in his arms to look at his face. He smiles softly down at you, wiping the tears away from your face.

“I’m not going to kill you, (Y/N). I’m sorry it had to happen this way, but I promise I’ll explain everything when we get home.” The wind is howling, your hair getting caught in Michael’s face. You don’t have time to question what he’s saying before he takes a graceful step over the edge of the pit, both of you falling down below.

[ssromanogers]

For the Romanogers Fandom

Merry Kissmas

Or five times cuffing season allows Natasha to kiss Steve and the one time he kisses her first

1- Right after the battle of New York, the Avengers moved into the newly renovated Avengers Tower just in case another major battle occurred again. Even though they were now a team, everyone still kept to their own schedules. Clint had missions, Bruce had scientific breakthroughs to focus on, Thor went back to Asgard, and Tony was always busy with keeping the world safe. As for Steve and Natasha… well… they became partners. It allowed them to get closer as Steve adjusted to the world, and Natasha got used to relying on another person besides Clint.

It was December and the Avengers Tower was all decked out; Tony splurged for the team’s first Christmas together. Decorations all over, which, of course, means there has to be mistletoe. Truth be told, Tony had them so he could use it as an excuse to kiss Pepper when she would visit. He never enforced the rule on the other Avengers— only to tease them. He didn’t expect anyone else to follow the traditions, so imagine his surprise when he catches the Black Widow and Captain America strolling in together on the main floor dangerously close to a mistletoe hanging above.

“Woah, Cap, you know the rule! Under the mistletoe means you gotta smooch.”

Both Steve and Natasha look up to see that they were indeed right underneath the mistletoe. Steve was ready to argue against the silly tradition. He didn’t want to scare his new partner off, besides, wouldn’t it make things awkward? However, before he could even utter a word, Natasha already made her decision. She turns Steve towards her, and pulls him down to give him a quick kiss. She then continues her walk toward the kitchen, leaving both Steve and Tony in shock.

2- Steve still has a lot to learn in the ways of espionage. It’s a good thing he has such a good teacher: Natasha. The two of them were currently undercover for a Christmas ball. It was a front to distract from what was really going on in the basement. Their mission was to gather intelligence. This would be easier if Natasha went by herself, but she had a partner now and he needed to learn how it was done.

They were currently making their way down the hall towards the service elevator that would take them down to where the action is. Steve was following Natasha’s lead since he was outside of his element. He couldn’t help but admire her appearance; she was breathtaking, as always. They spent the whole night talking and playing the part of a couple. He could almost believe they were one if it weren’t for the conversation about the arms dealer that kept coming up. Hearing footsteps approaching, Natasha stops, she quickly turns around to Steve.

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

“Yes they do…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before she’s already on him. She pulls him down to meet her lips with her arms wrapped around his neck. He moves his hands on her waist.

“Hey! You two! This isn’t the way to a room!”

They quickly pull apart with a flush on both of their faces. Natasha is the one to recover first.

“Sorry about that. I guess we were a bit distracted.”

The guy eyes her in suspicion. Steve was watching to see his next move, but again, Natasha strikes first. She knees the guy, then elbows his head, knocking him down quickly. Steve immediately jumps in to throw a punch at the guy knocking him unconscious.

“Nice work, Soldier.”

“Thanks, we should move.”

She nods in agreement and off the two of them go towards the elevator. Once inside, Natasha smiles at him.

“What?”

“I know what you’re thinking, Steve.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“You’re thinking that it didn’t work, but trust me. One day you’ll see that kissing me makes a good cover.”

3- They’ve been partners for over a year now. They’ve gotten a lot closer and so has the rest of the team. They all enjoy being together and have grown to care for one another. It’s with this thought in mind that Tony decides to throw a massive New Year’s Eve party. Everyone was invited and they all turned out for the event— even Nick Fury was invited.

There was about ten minutes left until the new year began when Steve finds Natasha out on the balcony; she was always eye catching. She turns to smile at him and beckons him to come over.

“Ready for the new year, Nat?”

“Almost, there’s just one thing missing.”

“Oh? What’s missing?”

“A New Year’s kiss. They say it’s good luck.”

“You believe in that stuff?”

She just shrugs and turns back to look at the view before them. New York City was all lit up, waiting for the countdown. Without another word, Natasha slips away, back into the crowd inside the tower. Steve decides to go back inside as well.

Soon, everyone starts the countdown: “10! 9! 8!…” Steve feels a tap on his shoulder at “3!”, he turns around to find Natasha smiling at him before she pulls him down for a kiss. “1! Happy New Year!”

This kiss was over far too quickly. Steve didn’t even get to say anything before she was off again, disappearing into the crowd.

4- After Ultron, the Avengers have changed. Steve and Nat were in charge of whipping the new recruits into place. It was natural for the two of them to be together leading a team. Going back to how they were as partners, but was there really going back? Their relationship has changed from coworkers, to friends, and now… well, Steve wasn’t sure what they were. He was trying to be a good friend, but there were nights when he couldn’t help thinking they could be something more. It seems he wasn’t the only one.

Natasha was drunk— absolutely wasted. It was just the two of them at the Avengers facility. The rest of the Avengers were allowed time off to celebrate the holidays. This was probably why she decided to have a drink. She was stumbling from the kitchen when Steve found her. As soon as she saw him, her eyes lit up and she giggled. She was definitely drunk.

“Come on, Nat, let’s get you to bed.”

“Is that an invitation, Steve?”

He doesn’t answer her, instead, he picks her up intending to take her back to her room. She looks up at him and sighs. She rests her head against his chest and closes her eyes. She may be drunk, but she wasn’t about to admit what drove her to this state. She was content just to have Steve by her side again.

He sets her down on her bed and tucks her in. He wishes her a good night before turning to leave; but he doesn’t get far as she catches his hand.

“Stay with me, Steve.”

He turns to face her, and as much as he wanted to say yes, it was a bad idea. She sits up, still holding his hand. He leans down intending to get her to lie back down, but she had another idea. She leans in to kiss him; he could taste the vodka on her lips. He opens his mouth and allows her tongue to slip through, exploring within. She pulls him down with her as they continue kissing. But once she puts her hands in his hair, it snaps him back to reality. He wasn’t dreaming, but he was taking advantage of her. He pulls away, to her disappointment.

“Nat, you’re drunk.”

“Am not.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. She was being childish. He decides that if she remembers what happened in the morning, then they would address it. He helps her settle back into bed before leaving to his own room.

5- After the snap, nothing was the same; they were all broken. Steve saw his best friend turn to dust right before him. They had lost. His brain couldn’t seem to understand what had just happened; it had to be a nightmare. All he had to do is wake up, but it wasn’t. The only reason he kept his sanity was because of her: Nat. After Thanos, left she immediately searched for him. She nearly cried when she saw him still alive— relief in her eyes that he didn’t vanish like the others.

Since that day, the two of them stayed close. They were all each other had left. Together, they put their efforts into forming a plan to right what Thanos had done wrong. Months had passed, and they were exhausted, but they had to keep working.

“Steve, you need to go to sleep.”

“In a minute, Nat.”

“Steve.”

Her tone makes him stop to look at her. She needed sleep herself, but she still looked stunning to him.

“Nat, I promise I’ll get some sleep when this is done, alright?”

She stays quiet. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she chooses to hold her tongue. She turns away, heading toward her room. Steve tries to go back to work after that, but thoughts of Natasha made it difficult. He couldn’t concentrate. It’s easier when she’s by his side.

He knocks on her door before turning the knob. She was sitting on the bed, almost as if she was waiting for him. He closes the door behind him and sits down next to her. He wants to ask her what’s wrong, but she beat him to it.

“I remember that night. I know you think I was too drunk to remember, but I do.”

“Nat…”

Her green eyes met his. She moves her hand up to touch his cheek, drawing him closer to her. Their faces were inches apart. She was giving him a chance to stop it if he wanted to— he didn’t. She leans in and their lips connect. It was a soft and slow kiss, unlike their kisses in the past. She breaks the contact and she finally admits it:

“Steve, I love you.”

She crashed her lips into his once more. This one was filled with passion. Almost as if she was pouring all of her love into it.

+1- They did it, they won. Thanos was defeated and those they lost were back. There is still a lot of adjusting to do, but they have all the time in the world to do it. All that matters is that everyone is alive and well.

It’s strange to see everyone under one roof at the Avengers facility for Christmas, but it’s very fitting. After all, they’re family, and it’s the holidays. Everyone is smiling and having a good time while opening their presents.

Steve takes Natasha’s hand walking her away from the crowd. They were finally together. After Natasha admitted her feelings for him, they made it official. He smiles at her and she smiles back. Neither of them ever thought they could be happy again.

“Where are you taking me, Steve?”

“Right… here.”

“We’re right outside the living room.”

“Look up.”

She does, and right above them is a single mistletoe. She laughs, but it’s short lived. Steve turns her around, pulling her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her, short and sweet.

“I love you, Nat.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

He claims her lips again; they had to make up for lost time.

Merry Kissmas.

[parsleybabe]

Home Made Simple S01E02 - Product Placement Overload

The episode starts out with the same host and same chef but two different renovators. Imma call them Wood Guy and Deco Guy.

The family consists of a mom, a dad and their two daughters – one is a toddler and one is still a baby and completely disappears from the entire episode right after being introduced. They’ve just moved into a home and the goal is to renovate the living room and patio so the family can throw a party to introduce themselves to the neighborhood

So, here are my personal highlights of this episode:

There’s actually very little gender bias in this one. It starts out with Chef Guy talking about how they’re going to make party comfort food like a mom would make it, but without the love handles. That’s not even that cringey, I guess. I just didn’t like it how he connected comfort food with mom and love handles. Could be me being a bit oversensitive here, though. I did find it interesting however, that, in this episode, they didn’t explain why the mom was gonna participate in the cooking while the dad was helping with the tools. I mean, contrary to the previous episode where the mom doing the hard work was presented as a surprise. Just saying.

But, let’s stick to the title of my review and move on to product placement #1:  Fairly early on, the family dog is introduced (he completely disappears from the entire episode after this one scene btw, much like the baby before). And isn’t dog hair just THE WORST? It really, really is a huuuuge problem and it’s seriously “going to ruin the wall treatment”, Deco Guy explains. So he introduces Swiffer Sweeper Vac with the words, “I live by these things” and “it’s absolutely amazing”. They even give instructions to the mom who tries it out, “Push forward… push forward... it swivels… good job!” and then she is left alone in the room sweeping the floor as if she’s never done that in her life before.

What’s super funny though is that, later on in the episode, when they’re actually cleaning the same floor after all the renovations are done, they DON’T use the swiffer but another brand sweeper and it’s super obvious too because the swiffer one is neon green and the one they later use is grey and dark blue. That really cracked me up.

Anyway, let’s move on to Wood Guy who is working with the dad on wooden benches with storage space inside for the patio. Except… they don’t really show how to build them. They just talk about how that’s what they’re gonna do and then the dad gets to use a power saw once. Suddenly, they have a bunch of finished wooden boxes (I assume they built them, but it’s not shown or explained) and they line up some wooden bars on top of one for the lid (but we don’t get to see them screwing them on or explain how the lid works at all). Instead we see them paint the finished box benches. Because that’s important, I guess. Btw, we actually see one of the benches open very briefly in the background during the end credits, and you can see some metal lid mechanism, but that’s never explained on the show. And, honestly, why would we need to know how to do that, right? If we wanna build storage benches, we should focus on the essentials like painting them.

Meanwhile, Chef Guy explains to the mom how to make meatloaf. Honestly, it’s just your everyday bog standard meatloaf recipe, (just baked in cupcake forms and later mashed potatoes spread on top). But the meatloaf recipe alone is a huuuuge revelation to the mom, apparently, and she can’t stop praising it. The funniest thing about this scene, though, is how they use whipping cream for the mash. And while the info bar on screen suggests that you could replace it with nonfat buttermilk if you’re worried about calories, Chef Guy who is so massively opposed to love handles uses whipping cream. Consistency is key. 

Anyway, back to topic and on to product placement #2: On the patio, Wood Guy discovers the BBQ grill and desperately needs to show the dad how to clean it. He whips out some Mr Clean Magic Erasers and starts putting them to work. Which is not only a lackluster presentation, but also doesn’t show the actual “magic” of the product (the thing can remove stains from walls and grime from plastic furniture ffs, and there’s tons of products better suited to clean a fucking grill - honestly, I’ve tried the erasers on a grill, that’s the one thing they suck at). But hey, who cares. And of course Host Lady comes in and chimes, “This is amazing!”

Also, fun little side note, I found it super endearing how they got a BBQ on the patio and clean it and display it, but for throwing their patio party they don’t use it at all. Instead they serve meatloaf. Smart.

I briefly find some true respect for Deco Guy, because he takes the mom garden shopping and drops some actual gardening knowledge. I mean, nothing new, and none of it is actually used on the show, but at least he seems to know what he’s talking about. I guess some viewers who aren’t familiar with gardening at all could benefit from that.  I’m genuinely impressed.

Back home, Deco Guy wants to repaint the already existing patio table. It’s a super rustic, solid metal table that looks great as it is, but he wants to add color, so. Host Lady almost loses it when she hears that he picked bright yellow for the new color. I’m not kidding, she actually goes “Whoaaaaaaa! YAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!” and jumps up and down and claps her hands. I don’t even know, I guess she hasn’t seen any yellow in a really really long time?

Anyway, before painting the table they have to clean it. And, of course, they don’t use the magic erasers for that, even though THAT would have been the perfect moment to introduce the real selling point of the genius little fuckers  (in all honesty, I’m a huge fan of those things), but no, they use cloth, water and soap.

And then they paint it and make the solid metal table look like cheap plastic. But let’s not focus on what is a clearly a matter of taste. The true highlight of this scene is how Deco Guy gets spray paint on his pants and is devastated. I immediately lose all hard-earned respect for the guy, because… The guy’s supposed to be a professional renovator and should know not to wear his favorite jeans when doing paint work. I mean, come on.

The sprinkle on top, though, is when Host Lady asks how to get the stains out, he replies, “that’s a different show”. And I’m munching on my popcorn, because… I mean, they didn’t mind introducing a dog hair sweeper and they’re making meatloaf and all that on a renovating show, but talking about getting paint stains out doesn’t fit the format. This is getting more and more interesting by the minute.

Moving on to the living room: Deco Guy introduces the idea to put wallpaper on one of the walls and everybody is just purely floored by the idea, because nobody has ever thought of putting wallpaper anywhere apparently. The mom, who is actually a clothing designer says she’s always loved wallpapers but never thought of getting any. She literally goes “It’s very different” and I don’t even have words.

Not gonna talk much about how Chef Guy then teaches the mom to toast ready bought cinnamon bread and spread ricotta on it. After all, that’s just the subtle introduction to the true message of the scene: product placement #3, where Chef Guy casually asks the mom if she’s nervous about meeting the neighbors, while nonchalantly putting a Cascade dishwashing tab into the machine with the container on full display in two separate locations inside and on the counter and the camera following his hand. Veeeeery subtle. They don’t even mention the name this time, I’m impressed.

Host Lady is on a roll throughout the whole episode, by the way. Not only does she get overexcited about everything around all the adults, she actually turns it up a notch around the toddler. She speaks in this weird baby voice. Later, when the parents are discussing the emotional value of family photos, she just snatches the kid and hugs her as tight as she can. At this point I genuinely wonder if they’re related, because if any stranger had grabbed me like that as a kid, I would have hidden in the farthest corner of my bedroom and not come out again until highschool. If they’re not related, that family has one heck of a tough kid.

Time for final results. The living room is decorated and it looks alright. They didn’t really add much, but mostly changed the furniture placement. The walls have new paint and wallpaper, and there’s some family pictures thrown into the mix. The biggest change, imo, is that they hung three huge white plastic gazelle heads onto the wall. And I know this is a matter of personal taste, but they look really weird, reminiscent of hunted animals on the edge of extinction (which feels wrong), but plastic (which looks cheap on top), and they are white on a yellow-white wallpaper, so they don’t even contrast anything really. They just look super wrong to me. But, anyway, like I said, matter of personal taste. However, while I genuinely thought that we weren’t hit with the gender bias in this episode, Host Lady dishes one out last minute by pointing at the gazelle heads and telling the dad, “This is for you. This is the manly touch!” Ahh, no wonder I didn’t get it.

Finally, they move on to the patio and the best and sole improvement of the whole episode is that there is now an awning spreading over part of the patio. It’s perfect because it matches the request that the family had in the beginning (which was less direct sun), but they never showed how it was made or bought or installed on the episode at all. It’s just there when the family comes to see the end result. But, I mean, why would you show that, right?

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Suspiria remake review from a shitty movie-goer

(this review is posted too late so excuse me for some timing inaccuracies I couldn’t be arsed to edit)

(IF YOU HATE TL;DRS JUST SKIP AHEAD TO THE “THE REVIEW” PART. YOU’RE WELCOME)

I actually hate to admit why was I interested to watch this movie in the end, but for once SOMETHING motivated me to go to a movie after countless tries from my family to get me to watch something in theatres at a “reasonable time” (daytime is what they mean, this movie was at 8pm our time, and this is when the cross-city bus transport (it goes from one big city to another) stops doing their service lmao).

I myself have a lowkey interest in moviemaking (I’m already getting there by editing my phone-recorded videos because whatever). I come up with my concepts in my head and I am mostly willing to put them down somewhere in my computer so I don’t forget it years later if I want to make that concept a thing in the end (because none of my concepts are finalized... well except for one short horror-ish story I posted on DeviantArt (see mom, I do like some horror stuff!). Reddit as of lately inspired me to edit some of my movie’s plot-lines based on irl events (not related with anything too SJW), and I’m not sure how an usual movie-goer would see this concept but I am going to try to execute it... whenever I have enough equipment to shoot my own little films or skits or whatever.

What’s that? There are people who scrolled past this and already yell at me that “YOU ONLY WENT TO SEE THIS MOVIE BECAUSE OF THE MAN WHO COMPOSED THE SOUNDTRACK~~~”? Ugh yes you exposed me, tea all over. I even had “Street Spirit (Fade Out)” on a bit of a repeat as of lately (how fucking come I wasn’t too couragerous to listen to this song before?? And “Pyramid Song”??? Man am I discovering their pearl(ie)s(*) too late). And I’m occasionally on the band’s subreddit as well. And the man himself is touring ‘round the USA, signing material of fans and have genuinely warm chats with them. Admireable.

But that’s only half truth.

I never thought I’d see Suspiria on cinema theatres in here. Until one time when I saw an ad on a completely random Lithuanian website that said this movie is coming to our theatres 14 December... I couldn’t quite believe my eyes. I made my goal to see Suspiria since then. I even dared to ask a couple of my new college ‘friends’ to see it with me, but one of them fell off the deal when I revealed that I’ll be going to see it on Saturday, and on the weekends he’s usually at home, far away from the city the college is in (he lives in college dormitory on mostly the work-weekdays). So my only movie companion ended up to be this 28-year-old coursemate (actually we both study different things but sometimes we attend some of the same lectures) who was intrigued by the Suspiria trailer herself so at least I’m gonna have her by my side of the movie, so I thought. Sweet.

I already envisioned seeing this in a mall cinema theatre but my companion offered me a cheaper alternative - her suggested cinema theatre was actually in renovation so the business is temporarily happening inside an actual drama theatre’s long theatre hall. I had to wait long until the ticket box opened and because of that I was lowkey frustrated as I finished my English test writing a little earlier, so I spent my time walking around the city until the time came and I wandered off to the old building of the cinema so then I remembered it was moved and I found the moved place. Yeah I bought the tickets before my companion could but I’ll skip ahead to the time that I almost lost the tickets because they were put down on a windowsill outside some children activity centre (Suspiria and children?? lol). I came back home late at night and was ready for the movie to happen the next day. Oh and before buying the tickets I coincidentally saw dance classes going on nearby that building... weird, as Suspiria has dance elements in there

The day came (December 15) and my family went together with me because they saw this as an opportunity to see the Christmas tree of our city (but not the movie). Needless to say, they were still visibly pissed at me orchestrating this idea, as I planned everything BUT the transport to go by. Well at least my mom and my sis. Dad was cool with it as he returned home to watch Home Alone. Aside all that, the cinema hall was cozy, Christmassy, not too small, there were a few trailers before the movie, no snack-seller places (as this is not a mall lol) - my companion was glad she wasn't at the mall as she found this place where we were at way lovelier.

Now with all that unnecessary long intro off my chest, let’s begin:

THE REVIEW

(definitely not spoiler-free, if you are sensitive to spoilers please watch the movie for yourselves before reading my review. But if you like being spoiled, I’m your friend then I guess lmao)

The intro to the movie felt like I ended up booking a wrong movie - I didn't expect that to be set somewhere in Germany, especially an American/Italian-shot one. Was that a thing in the original Suspiria? I don't know... (apparently it is, but the cities are different, never the country though)

Patricia (I didn’t know it was Chloë Grace’s role until reading the Wiki) looked like to be a really big deal here, with the dance pupils discussing her disappearance the other day and Susie overheard them, then Sara mentioned the Patricia thing to Susie after Susie revealed she was kind of chosen as the lead dancer for the Volk play... is it because Patricia was THE saviour that unfortunately knew a little too much?? Idk, it’s perhaps the reason we get to see the Klemperer guy subplot happen (I didn’t know it was Tilda Swinton behind him all the time either, must be because the way the male German accent was put on her lol). Turned out she was captured and kept under some dungeon where Sara had gone later in the movie, but looking like an almost melted and grotesquely old human being (or if Mary’s mother from “Chocolate with Nuts” was a person). Speaking of which, there is one more later in the movie, but I won’t tell just yet - we will need to get into such scenes discussion first.

Interesting deaths here, despite of them being grotesque and horrifically detailed. It almost felt like Susie, whilst doing her first dance as the probable lead dancer, temporarily turned into Olga’s voodoo doll or a violent bloodbender (that old lady from Avatar that could bloodbend was incredibly uncanny, damn) and left Olga completely fucked up, and the foam mouth later on... is this the effect myxomatosis has on a human being if it was ever humanly? She was twitching and salivating afterall. :P But no, she’s not dead until she gets to plead her death later in the movie! :O Several others occur throughout, but none is more prominent than this key scene I described, well at least according to TV Tropes.

The search for the evil person in this movie without Wiki helping me much was definitely a nice game for me to play. I kept thinking that Blanc might be that one, then I thought she’s not the one until she looked at Carolina (I think that was the tall tomboy’s name??) suspiciously and then she later passed out on the floor violently, with rabies foam and everything.

Anyway, don’t tell me Tilda Swinton wouldn’t make out a pretty good Thom Yorke post-Pablo Honey. She’s 8 years older than him, ffs! Also played a man before (e.g.: this movie I’m talking about) so the make up won’t be an unjumpable-over hurdle.

The sighs were for sure unsettling, especially because they oddly sounded like orgasm here and there. IDK why. I know fucking is referenced twice in this movie (well only fucking once and sex another time). Speaking of random things, the nightmare shots were completely random themselves, following up with some imagery we never see in the movie again, and some of that we see only a little (like the worms and bloody organs).

3 long scenes that were note-worthy for me. One is the Olga mutilation/Susie's first dancing scene that I already noted, and it was driven by music (the others will be too. Soundtrack of this movie still rules). Then there's the Volk play itself - girls go from one place to another, take poses of each other, dance individually, let their minimalistic red rope dresses flick in the air, interspersed with Sara in the underneath area and her broken leg (so broken, the bone went out of her skin!), and then the matriarchy getting her back on stage, but healing her leg with her witch powers before that. I haven't really listened to the rest of the soundtrack but I gotta check the song out so that I won't end up labeling it as a Kid A reject. No but seriously - intense dancing needed some intense drumming and painful instrument sounds just to project out the massiveness of the whole play.

Then I keep remembering the scene where Madame Blanc commands Susie to jump higher and higher in the mirror hall, up until she jumps as highest as possible. Also my companion’s favourite scene was the stare exchange between these two ladies during the part where people were singing some drinking song in a bar to celebrate ‘Volk’’s success - you hear them singing and then some chilling background noise slowly mixing and creeping its way into the atmosphere, then I think it leads into a scene where some sparkling aura entity wakes Susie up (and she’s nude) in the middle of the night and gets her to go down to this... dungeon orgy full of random stuff going on, complete with an Asian man doing something beyond explanation (I could say lewd but not quite), even more strange ritual dancing and the very much frightening Madame Helga... who looked like Jabba the Hutt for some reason. And then of course everyone slitting, slashing and twisting each other, and by the end Susie throwing us all a plot twist which makes her THE evil one who can finally let her ‘friends’ go of all that suffering they have been through thanks to the damn witches (and yeah apparently her dance friends haven’t completely died? THAT’S how they do - they tell Susie to end their suffering and she does). Also she cracks her chest open to reveal a... very graphic part of a female body that will by no doubt get this whole text review reported without consent so I refrain from any illustrations. Oh and this scene mostly has the possibly favourite this movie’s soundtrack song of mine, if not one of them, play - titled Unmade. It was a mind-boggling decision to do so but the movie editors do them I suppose, but still. I felt sad for the song having to be the background of such absurd but fair enough events? (Oh and I didn’t mention that everyone who voted for the other woman than Madame Blanc to be the leader of the witches (iirc) were rid of in this movie. Damn.)

Oh and the ending is rather an interesting detail, not talking about post-credits because as always I have to be this one movie goer who wants to do it but can’t because they’re urged to go back out of the movie theater. We turn into modern day Germany with a love heart carved on a brick wall with the letters A and L (perhaps?? at the time of finishing this review my memory towards it kind of erased some parts of the movie for me), a nice little remembrance of Lutz’s (the old man’s) love for his dear Anke, with which they have reunited during the movie, but Lutz was dragged out by some people related to the dance academy for probably wandering elsewhere than needed and somehow Lutz ended up as one of the sex dungeon victims, stripped of clothing and lying down quite powerless. That and before the modern day shot we are subjected with Lutz in hospital with Susie coming to visit, they discuss something related to the plot, Susie touches the guy speaks some more, leaves and according to the Wiki, Lutz “suffers from a violent seizure” that was nothing more than just a hard seizure. And it even erases his memories!

Anyway, as a whole, I felt more underwhelmed of this movie’s experience despite really wanting to see it. Like, “uhm yeah gore blood people getting slashed everyone’s a witch and everyone’s watched over by the witch and if you expose the witches you die” kind of underwhelmed. I didn’t want this movie to blatantly go through my head, but it did, that’s why I wanted to make notes everytime something notable happens. There was one startling moment, and it just was an innocent scene transition. And something within Olga’s mutilation scene made me chuckle (and made some other people leave the cinema hall ASAP). It’s more of a disgusting watch than scary. Also feels too dragged out in parts.

I’d only recommend it if you are gore-tolerant (there are people that can’t stand looking at blood so this might as well not be for you, especially if you’re younger than 16), like intense choreos that can impact other people literally, and... the soundtrack. Yes of course. If you dare to get through the movie with feeling its soundtrack, sometimes you might as well feel it right, but some of the soundtrack song usages might as well make you go “hmm” as much as me.

I'll remind myself to never watch a movie in theaters for soundtrack again (unless they're not THAT late). And the other 'trilogy of the three witches' movie remakes, especially if they come out at the time I haven't moved houses by now, because for sure as hell will my parents not like me going to cinema late once more. The movie is lowkey 7 out of 10 for me, can sometimes it's on the verge of falling down to 6 becaude of no completely proper comprehension of some directing choices... so 6.7/10 is good - as it still has 6 in it, but totally leans on to the 7.

Will probably watch it again. I need to remember some more of this movie sometime later. And looking for online uploads of this movie is unrecommendable - I'll wait until Lionsgate distributes it to America for wider audiences so that anything could surface 2 months (or even a few days) later from now. Though if I didn't need all that, I'd definitely not watch it again for a long time... unfortunately I want to.

Post movie feelings: my companion liked the movie, initially said to never watch it again but now wants to watch it again because it was so "wtf" she felt like re-experiencing it at some point. She liked the music (another bonus point for Yorke). She wished she could film the reactions of other people who watched this, as they mostly were confused, all being like "wtf did I just watch???". I'm already feeling bad for the 3rd companion who didn't join us but would also like to watch this - he’ll likely be one of those confused movie-goers.

[trollhunter94]

Close To The Edge

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Others: Sam and Dean, Crowley, Meg Masters and Dick Roman

Warnings: Cannon Divergence, Torture

Words: 2.9K

A/N: Part 6 of the Castiel Soulmate Series. Here’s Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,  Part 5, __  Part 7

Summary: Castiel deals with the thought that you are dead. Meanwhile, the brothers take Crowley to an abandoned warehouse where a certain Demon is waiting, ready to join the fight.

Castiel had been sitting in the same spot for long enough now to see the sun rise. That spark of purpose that willed him to keep on fighting had been savagely ripped away. You were dead. He was certain of it.

He didn’t want to stand up or do anything productive. The emotional pain had buried itself inwards, applying a constant and heavy pressure to his vessel’s organs, making him completely immobile.

He had searched every inch of that burning warehouse for you, or what was left of you. After finding only burned remains of your backpack, he sat down and listened for you, for any presence of your soul. But there was no sign, no inkling that you were still alive in this messed up and forsaken world.

Even though he’d only known you for two days, the connection that he had felt to you was unfamiliar and indescribable. Now that he had seen the course of your life through memory and touched the pureness of your soul, he felt attached to everything about you.

But, you were now gone. Pulled away from his side, never to return. He blamed himself as Dean’s words rang through his mind: “She’s an untrained civilian. Placing her in the centre of this mess, will only get her killed. She’d last two minutes in there, tops”.

Although you lasted more than ten minutes and managed to rig the trucks, Dean was right about one thing. It got you killed. At least, that was what Castiel thought.

Meanwhile, after several hours of driving, the brothers were close to St Louis on their way to Roman HQ, along interstate 70. The boys were currently discussing the decision to let you fight with them.

“I think it’s a good thing” Sam gestured with a shrug of his shoulders. “Cas has been a little off his game lately and”...

“Yeah, and can you blame him?” Dean interrupted, justifying the Angel’s recent behaviour. “He’s been through the grinder this past year. I’d be worried if he wasn’t”. Dean scratched his nose as he listened to Sam’s opinion on the matter.

“I know, but this time he’s not alone, you know? He’s got her to help him”.

“What? Like he didn’t have us?” Dean questioned, feeling a little hurt. Sam was quick to correct himself. “No, I mean in an intimate way, you know. A human companion will maybe help him to see the emotional side and fragile nature of things. Do you know what I mean?”

Dean was silent for a moment as he thought about Castiel’s tendency to jump into situations without a second thought of the human casualty. Whilst he does believe that Cas only has good intentions, a little humility wouldn’t go amiss.

“Yeah. That’s what makes me worry though” he admitted. “What if he does get attached to Y/N and then something happens to her? If she dies, it will break him”.

“Yeah, I see your point”. Sam’s hand ran through his hair as he pondered the many possible situations in which you could become a liability to their mission. If you were kidnapped, that was leverage to be held against Castiel. If you were killed, that would definitely divert his focus on revenge. 

At a loss, Sam let out a small sigh, hands rubbing against his knees as he conjured up their only option. “Let’s just hope that he keeps her out of serious danger”.

“Yeah” Dean snorted with pessimism. “Let’s hope”.

As the minutes passed and miles of shrubbery flew by, they eventually arrived at their next destination.

“Turn in here” Sam advised, pointing to the oncoming road on the right. Dean followed his Brother’s request, leading the car down a side-road and up to a warehouse.

Dean switched off the ignition and looked up sceptically through his wind-shield at the old and abandoned building. “This is where you wanted to go? Have you got some kind of property renovation or hobo fetish you’re not telling me about?”

Sam shook his head with closed eyes and a smile, deflecting Dean’s quirky insult. “No. Just came to get a few things. Help me get Crowley out?”

After an unconvinced eye squint from Dean, the boys swiftly stepped out and made their way over to the trunk. Dean popped the hood and a smile plastered his face as Crowley’s sweaty and dishevelled figure was revealed.

Sam, once again, yanked Crowley out without any sensitivity. The King of Hell stumbled onto the gravel before straightening his posture and addressing his captors. “Come on boys. What’s with all the hostility? I thought we were friends”.

Dean scoffed at his statement. “Friends? You tried to kill us, Crowley. Not to mention the conspiring with Cas to open up Purgatory”.

Sam was quick to jump in with the blame game. “This whole mess is your fault”.

“How is it my fault”? he retorted defensively. “Your Angel was the one who swallowed all those Leviathans. All I did was suggest the idea”.

“Exactly!” was all Dean needed to say, grabbing his sleeve and leading him into the warehouse. Sam was quick to find a rickety, wooden chair and placed it in the middle of the room before pulling a spray can out of his bag, giving it a shake.

Plonking Crowley down on the chair, Dean stepped back and pointed a finger at him. “Sit there and be quiet. If I hear so much as a snarky comment, you’ll be gagged for the rest of this journey”. Crowley’s eyes were full of both defiance and reluctant acceptance as he glared harshly at the eldest Winchester.

As Sam drew the trap along the floor, Dean paced the room, taking in the sight of broken windows and dust-covered machines. “What are we even doing here Sammy?”

“It’s just a pit-stop. We’re waiting for someone” he replied as he finished spraying and stood up, wiping his hands on his jacket. “Who?” Dean questioned sceptically, cautious of Sam’s secretiveness.

“A friend” Sam explained. “Trust me”.

“We don’t have any friends” Dean said, trying to think of who Sam had been talking to. Maybe it was another Hunter.

A figure soon appeared in the doorway. “Hello boys” a familiar voice called to them. Dean shot his head round to see Meg standing there. Before he had a chance to react, Crowley voiced his concern. “Hey! That’s my line”.

Dean’s gaze sharply turned to his brother with a cold expression. “Really Sam? Meg? That’s who’s helping us?”

“It’s nice to see you too Dean” she retorted, feeling slightly offended. Here comes the ‘Demons are second class citizens’ bullshit again.

Dean’s lack of tolerance was portrayed by the look on his face as he swivelled back around to face her. “What do you want, Meg? We’re kind of busy here?”

“I come bearing gifts” she said before looking down at the floor with a fake sadness. “But since I’m not welcome here, I’ll just take this Alpha blood with me”. As she held the vial out in front of her, Dean’s eyes instantly widened with intrigue.

“Whoa, whoa. Just hold on a second” he held his hands up defensively. Meg shifted an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. What was that?”

Dean’s face dropped as he turned and shared a look with Sam. He knew that she wanted an apology, or at least some recognition for helping them. He straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Thank you for helping us Meg. We really appreciate it”.

She smiled sarcastically at his words before throwing the vial of blood to him. “You know, I’ve got just as much reason to destroy that grade A asshole. Humans aren’t the only ones on Dick’s hit list”. 

She reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out the familiar sight of the Colt. “Here’s your gun back” she said, passing it over to Sam. Dean’s eyes followed the Colt with a shocked expression and a pointed finger. “Wh- what, where? How?”

His eyes quickly narrowed at Sam with the feeling of another betrayal. “Excuse us a moment” he said as he grabbed the sleeve of Sam’s jacket and lead him to a corner of the room.

“Dude! What the hell? You gave her the Colt? His voice was raised in anger as his little brother had once again, gone behind his back.

“Dean. She’s on our side. She was willing to kill an Alpha to put Dick down”.

“I couldn’t give a rat’s-ass, Sam. You lied to me, again!”

Sam’s arms flew up in frustration. “This is why I didn’t tell you Dean. Because I knew you wouldn’t even give the idea a chance”.

“Of course I wouldn’t” he admitted, throwing his hands up. “But that’s not the point. It’s the keeping shit from me, like that crap you did with Ruby. We’ve been chasing the Colt for days now and you’ve just sat shotgun this whole time, watching me run around like an idiot. That’s not teamwork, Sam. It’s sabotage”.

Sam took a deep breath, shaking off the harsh reminder of his past. “Look, I’m sorry for not telling you. But we’ve got the rest of the ingredients within our reach now. All we need is Crowley’s blood and Cas’, then we can kill Dick for good”. There was still a look of frustration in Dean’s eyes as Sam pleaded to him.

“Please, Dean. Let Meg help us. We all know that Crowley’s not gonna give it up without a fight”. Dean took a moment to think about it. Sam was right. But he was still pissed about the way he went about it.

“Uh, we’ll talk about this later” he dismissed the argument and held out his hand. “Give it to me”. Sam passed the gun over without hesitation, where Dean snatched it and put it in his waistband before walking back over to Meg.

“So how are you going to convince Mr sunshine and daisies over there to give a blood donation?”

The smile that transfixed Meg’s face was full of evil intent, enacting on some revenge of her own. “Oh, I’ve got certain powers of persuasion. Besides, you boys have made my job easier, seeing as he can't go anywhere”.

Sam walked around the trap, admiring his handy work. "It should hold for now. Let's hope these powers of yours are enough".

A snort of sarcastic denial came from the Demon King. Crowley was resisting the urge to mock, but ultimately failed as the words came falling from his mouth. “It didn’t take much persuasion for you to betray your king, you little whore”.

Both Sam and Dean widened their eyes at his insult. Meg didn’t reply, but walked up to the devil’s trap and slapped Crowley across the face with force. Dean couldn’t help but laugh, this was turning out to be a good day.

Crowley lifted his head back up and licked his bottom lip, looking at Meg with a taunting amusement. “Is that all you’ve got? I knew you were pathetic, clinging on to whoever’s got the best chance of survival. You’re nothing but a parasite, to Humans and Demons alike. Nobody wants you around, you little bitch”.

This seemed to infuriate Meg, causing her to approach Crowley and throw a mighty punch towards his throat. The weight of her swing forced the chair to swing backwards, crashing to the floor. Crowley groaned, rolling on his side amongst the broken pieces of wood.

Meg turned around to see the Brothers reactions, not being disappointed by their faces of shock and admiration. “That was awesome” Dean praised with a wide smile.

“Thanks” she said, before something hit her against the back, gaining her attention. She turned around to face Crowley but was met with a chair leg flying towards her face. And then another.

Refusing to give up, Crowley threw each piece of wood towards the pesky Demon with defiance. She attempted to block the harrowing onslaught but gained a few cuts and splinters to the face. Eventually, her patience wore out.

Stepping forward, she clenched her fist and used her power to send Crowley to his knees.

Crowley was now on the other side of torture. Experiencing the pain of having his internal organs crushed was not what he’d expected. After nothing but groans of pain from across the room, Dean stepped forward to try a different tactic. “Give it up, Crowley. She's not gonna stop”.

“Okay. Okay” he surrendered, holding his hands up with defeat, causing Meg to release her hold on him. “You can have my blood. But you lumberjacks are still missing a key ingredient”.

Dean’s eyes darted to the side and back as Castiel jumped into his thoughts. God, he hoped that you and Cas were okay.

You awoke to the sight of total darkness, face covered by a black hood over your head. An attempt to move your arms made you realise that both your hands and legs had been restrained. Breathing heavy, you turned your head to listen as someone entered the room. No, two people.

The sound of footsteps became overshadowed as they began to converse. “The Sucro-Corp trucks have been destroyed”.

A deeper, yet calmer voice entered the conversation. “How did this happen?”

“It was her, Sir. We found her in the warehouse. She was with the Angel”.

An annoyed groan was short-lived when he laid eyes upon you. “Excellent. Well let’s meet our new guest, shall we?” One of the men walked behind you. Lifting the hood off your head, light suddenly burning your retinas until they began to focus on your surroundings. An office room.

The blurred silhouette in front of you was now visible as the famous Dick Roman, standing smugly and smiling at you. 

“Hi there“, he greeted you, crouching down to your eye level. “And what do we have here?” You tugged at your restraints, fearful of what this creature was capable of. “Let me go!” you demanded, hoping that they would see you as just an innocent bystander.

He placed a hand to his chest with fake sympathy. “You know what? I would like nothing more than to send you merrily on your way. But, it seems you’ve been busy destroying my things with that sad excuse of an Angel. Now, I need to know, who else is a part of this little scheme to ruin my plans?”

“I’m… I. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who are you people, and what the hell am I doing here?” You played on the fact he had no idea who you were.  “Let me go, or I will sue your ass”.

“Oh, quite the demanding one, aren’t you?” He smirked before standing up and slowly pacing the floor. “I know you’re playing dumb with me. If you refuse to tell me who else you’re working with, then I’ll just have to pry it out of you by force”.

He stopped pacing and stared at you expectantly, waiting for a confession. At this point, your thoughts had taken over, dreading and debating how this interaction could pan out.

He gave the man who stood behind you, a nod of his head. This prompted the man to move across the room and up to a large cart that was covered by a white, plastic sheet. He gripped the covering and pulled it away to reveal a display of metal tools and instruments.

You watched as Dick strolled over to the selection and picked up a three-pronged fork. You involuntarily swallowed at the sight of the long and sharp weapon. This was not how you expected this adventure to end; being killed by the bad guy.

He approached you again, gently taking hold of one hand, straightening your fingers and placing the fork under three of your fingernails. “Now. I’m going to ask you once, and only once. Who else knows that you and Castiel were in that warehouse?”

You quickly debated your options. You could keep your mouth shut and endure the torture, maybe give some false names or give in and hand over the Winchester brothers. You chose option one, reluctantly.

A prolonged silence forced Dick to follow through on his promise. “Very well. This is most definitely going to hurt”. He pushed on the instrument, forcing the prongs under your fingernails. The pain was excruciating, causing your arm to spasm against the restraint and involuntary screams to fall from your mouth as the sensitive skin was penetrated.

You were not prepared for this level of pain. Your head hit the back of the chair, desperation for relief coursed through you like severe dehydration, reaching out for something to soothe. Your spirit was unconsciously calling for one thing in particular. Castiel.

At that moment, Castiel was standing inside the hotel room from last night. This was the first place he was drawn to, the freshest reminder of you. After lying down on the bed for several minutes, wishing he could turn back time, he stood up and began to pace the room.

He was thinking about how to tell Sam and Dean of this tragic news, when the lights above him began to flicker violently.

His eyes shot upwards at the instant feel of your presence. The way that you were trying to connect to him through pure emotion and willpower created such an energy that his chest began to fill with a feeling of golden warmth.

A weight was gradually lifting off his shoulders, relief now coursing through him. You were alive!

Thanks for reading. Here’s Part 7 .

Tags:

@uselessace @superheavymetalunicorn @sumara62  @eziggyra @spookysculderfiles @doritoevansxwinterschildren @cabbitholeresearch @acheloishe

[lalainajanes]

A Post TO S4 thing that I couldn’t resist. Longer than I anticipated but isn’t that always the way? Contains all of the magic kids and Hayley just so y’all are prepared.

Reset The Bone

You never quite get used to jolting awake to a frantic pounding on the door. Her life’s been pretty quiet lately but Caroline’s been dealing with life and death emergencies for almost a decade and the adrenaline that floods her when she becomes aware, the way her body coils in readiness to fight, is familiar.

Honestly, she’s missed it.

Caroline hurries out of bed, heart pounding and gums aching, straining her ears in an attempt to hear something that might be useful. Her room is the closest to the stairs, something she’d insisted on when they’d been drawing up renovation plans. If the spells Bonnie had placed around the boardinghouse ever failed, if someone ever did attack them, Caroline planned to meet them with teeth.

Jeremy sleeps across the hall and his door creaks open just as Caroline steps outside, hastily belting her robe. He’s sleep mussed and alert, crossbow in hand.

Caroline’s still kinda shocked that Little Gilbert, Elena’s stoner brother, turned out to be competent at weaponry and decent with kids. She lifts a finger to her lips, gestures that she’ll go down first. His nod comes quickly and he falls into step behind her as they make their way downstairs. They’re probably being paranoid – odds are that someone with sinister intentions wouldn’t bother with a polite knock – but Caroline’s always been a big believer in covering her bases.

Still, she never would have anticipated opening the door and finding Hayley Marshall on the other side. She swallows her knee jerk reaction when she spies the small figure slumped against Hayley’s back. It would have been harsh, likely profane, and inappropriate for little ears. Caroline presses her lips together as she surveys the other critically. Hayley looks worn, her clothing wrinkled and her hair flat. “Hey,” she greets softly. Hayley’s wary and using her body as a shield, tense as she waits for Caroline to speak.

It takes a minute. Caroline really hadn’t anticipated meeting Klaus’ daughter in her PJ’s at 3 AM. Eventually she manages something like a smile, strained but polite. “Hi. Come in.” She turns enough to motion for Jeremy to de-arm before she opens the door wider and steps back. Hayley and Hope shuffle in. Hayley glances around the foyer with interest, Hope’s swaying on her feet, eyes half-closed.  

Jeremy’s relaxed, doing his best to hide the crossbow. His brows rise in question when Caroline meets his gaze. “Should I get Alaric?”

Grateful, Caroline nods. “Thanks, Jer.”

He retreats and Caroline has a brief moment where she considers calling him back, getting him to settle their visitors somewhere while she wakes Alaric up. It’s not like Hayley ever made eyes at Jeremy’s boyfriend or snapped his neck.

He’s gone before she can give in to the urge and Caroline straightens her shoulders, tells herself that she’s a freaking grownup and that she’s forgiven people for bigger slights against her than the one’s Hayley is guilty of. The school was supposed to be for people who needed help and it looked like Hayley and Hope qualified. This time when she smiles Caroline thinks she even manages a little warmth. “Can I get you guys something to drink? Maybe some food?”

Hayley’s lips twist and she inclines her head, “Yeah, thanks. That would be great.” She sets her hands on her daughter’s shoulder, nudging her to face Caroline. She presses a quick kiss to the top of her daughter’s head. “Hope, meet Caroline. She’s your dad’s friend.”

Hope looks even worse than Hayley when she looks up, pale with red rimmed eyes. He lip quivers slightly and she shrinks back against Hayley. “Hi,” she manages softly before looking back down at the floor.

Caroline’s heart lurches as a new type of worry, one tinged with dread as well as fear, fills her. She knew about Klaus’ sireline being broken, was aware that his death wouldn’t mean hers. Hayley hadn’t used the past tense, surely that meant that Klaus was still alive? She swallows harshly, does her best to keep her voice from shaking, “Hope. Hi. Where…” she lets the question trail off, unsure of how to phrase the question.

Luckily, Hayley seems to get what she’d left unspoken. “He’s in New Orleans, I think. But he won’t be able to stay there for long. We had a problem. The only solutions really sucked.” She says it with a weariness that tugs at Caroline’s sympathies.

Having her hand forced, agonizing over which option was the least terrible, was a sadly familiar dilemma for Caroline. She bends forward slightly, planting her hands on her knees and waiting for Hope to look up at her once more. Her smile is bright this time, relieved that whatever trouble Klaus was in he was alive. “It’s very nice to meet you, Hope Mikaelson,” she tells the girl warmly. “It looks like you’ve had a long day so how many marshmallows do you want in your hot chocolate?”

She doesn’t look much like Klaus on the surface. Their eyes are similar blues but that’s about it. Still, something in the tilt of Hope’s head as she considers her response is familiar. It hits Caroline hard and she misses Hope’s response.

Luckily it seems like she hadn’t needed it. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” Hayley chides while Caroline stands and begins to lead them to the kitchens. “Remember how hard it was to sleep after that beignet binge? Let’s moderate the sugar tonight.”

Hope’s response is grumpy, a petulant insistence that her Dad would let her have all the marshmallows she wanted and Hayley falls silent. Darting a look over her shoulder Caroline catches Hayley’s pained expression, finds herself butting in. Hope’s about seven, if Caroline’s math is correct. Probably pretty easy to distract. “I’ve got two girls a little younger than you, Hope. We’re going to make cookies tomorrow. Maybe you’d want to help?”

It does the trick. Hope’s intrigued, says that she’s never actually made cookies which is just weird, in Caroline’s opinion. Hayley mouths a thank you, Caroline acknowledges it with a quick nod. Alaric interrupts before any awkwardness can creep back in, greeting Hope warmly and asking her how she’s been progressing with her magic.

It cracks the girl’s shell a bit, and she chatters away while eating a sandwich Caroline hastily throws together. The warm milk does the trick before too long and soon she’s nodding off at the table. They have plenty of rooms available and it’s Alaric who offers Hayley one for the night after she’s given them the cliff’s notes version of what’s landed them in Mystic Falls. He insists that they’re all tired and they can talk more tomorrow. “The crisis will keep, right?” he says. “There’s no immediate danger?”

“Not to us,” Hayley confirms. “As long as she’s here and they’re not The Hollow can’t do anything.”

Caroline’s been listening more than she’s been contributing, pity and worry growing and gnawing at her insides as she learned just what Klaus had done, the sacrifice he’d made. What would he do now she wondered, more alone in the world than ever before?

Nothing good, Caroline assumes. He couldn’t turn it off like she once had and she vividly remembers what had happened when Kol had died – she knows just how terrible Klaus is at dealing with grief.

He’d helped Stefan for her and Caroline has no doubt that had he been able to help her when she’d fled to New Orleans in desperation a couple years ago he would have. It’s only right that she returns the favor. She’s got a million questions to ask but, like Alaric had said, they’ll keep. Caroline decides to start with the things she can fix right now. Rising from the table she stacks their plates. “Do you have bags?”

“Yeah, in the car.”

Great. I’ll go grab them. I’m sure you’ll want to shower after you put Hope to bed. We’ll figure out if you need anything else tomorrow. The shopping options in Mystic Falls haven’t improved at all since the last time you were here but we can always rush order some things online. Hope can meet the kids and when she’s up to it we’ll run her through the basic tests, get her started on a program. You can stay as long as you need to get her settled in. We don’t have anyone quite her age but all the kids are pretty friendly.”

Hayley, looking uncomfortable and maybe a little overwhelmed, tries to protest, “Caroline, you don’t have to…”

Alaric shakes his head with a rueful expression, cutting Hayley off and leaning in conspiratorially. “Don’t bother. That’s her determined face. You won’t win against Caroline’s need to organize a problem into submission.” Caroline glares but it lacks heat. Their romance might have been ill-advised but somewhere in the last few years of co-parenting Alaric’s learned to read her.

That’ll be beneficial later, Caroline assumes. She’s not going to be able to stop at the immediate problems – never seeing her kids again was not a fate Caroline wished to contemplate, not one that she’d wish on an enemy and she’d long since stricken Klaus from that particular list.  Having Alaric, and his access to The Armory, at her disposal when Caroline begins looking into this Hollow thing is going to be a bonus.

Hayley seems to struggle for a moment, but eventually she sags back into her seat, nodding tiredly. “Then… thank you. Last time we had to leave Hope was so young and moving constantly was hard for her. There wasn’t anyone we could really trust. Klaus mentioned you were doing this now,” she gestures vaguely about the room. “Running a school. And I know what I did last time I was here was…”

Hayley falters, studying the table intently. Caroline blinks for a moment, searching for something in Hayley’s words, some hint of anything less than genuine. She finds nothing and her feelings are mixed. She’d kind of wanted to hold on to her grudge. “A lot’s happened. I’m different now,” she finally says. “I guess it would be stupid to assume you weren’t, right?”

It’s not forgiveness, or an offer to forget. Caroline’s not that good at taking the high road. But maybe it can be a truce.

In the beginning she can’t devote much time digging into The Hollow. Between the twins, the slowly growing number of kids at the school that needed wrangling, and all the work that goes into keeping the place running (because it might have been Alaric’s idea but it had quickly become apparent that he had no idea how to get things going. Caroline had needed a project after Stefan had died and her friends had moved away so figuring out the details had been a welcome distraction). She’s got page of notes on her phone, hastily tapped out questions and ideas, has instructed Alaric’s Armory lackeys to dig into any references to the origins of werewolves and any mention of The Hollow in their archives. They drop files into a shared google drive occasionally, scans from books with tiny text and graphic illustrations, and accompanying translations when applicable.

Klaus’ letter sets her back even further.

Three million dollars means that a ton of her vague dreams and plans for the school can be a reality much sooner than anticipated. She feels guilty about it as she consults with an architect and rationalizes that she’s doing what’s best for Klaus’ kid – she was supposed to be providing a normal-ish childhood so clearly ripping out the basement cells was a good idea - while she argues (and compels because she doesn’t need them spreading any lurid stories about why she and Alaric has an actual dungeon in their home) contractors. Caroline promises herself she’ll carve out some time to dive into the accumulated info while she negotiates with witches who might be interested in teaching positions.

Unfortunately, for all her good intentions, her never ending To Do List keeps getting in the way.

Until Klaus misses a Skype date.

They’re a biweekly thing. He sends letters, emails often, but being able to actually see her father is understandably what Hope most looks forward to. Caroline usually sets them up in the lounge, hooks up a laptop to the big screen TV in there and stays just outside to ensure they won’t be interrupted. She stays silent and out of sight while Hope chatters to Klaus about what she’s learning and the friends she’s made. Klaus tells stories about the cities he’s visiting, his voice painting vivid pictures of old buildings and scenery and interesting people he’s met. He’s very invested in Hope’s art education, a subject Caroline can admit the Salvatore school is lacking in. He often rattles off works, or movements, talks of composition and color and how he felt when he saw something for the first time. Sitting on the floor of the hallway Caroline sometimes finds herself holding her breath, unwilling to miss a single word. Hope will rush to look them up after they’ve said goodbye. Sometimes Caroline joins her, settling down on the floor so they can both flick through the images on Hope’s iPad oohing and aahing and talking about their favorites.

She’s a good kid, often more comfortable with quiet and adults than with children. Caroline’s office door is always open, just in case there’s a fire – sometimes a literal one – that she needs to put out. She’ll often glance up from her work to find that Hope’s slipped in silently and curled up on the couch under the window with her homework or a book. The first few times it was like Hope expected to be shooed away but, as an only child, Caroline got the urge to enjoy a little me time. She’d always merely smiled, gone back to her work, allowing Hope to go back to her own activity.

It’s kind of become their thing.

Alaric passes by while they’re engrossed sometimes, looking amused and like he’s itching to comment as he peeks in and observes them. Thankfully he never does and Caroline’s not about to invite him to. He’d died before her feelings for Klaus had gotten complicated, hadn’t come back until after Klaus had gone. He’d seemed surprised when she’d insisted he go to New Orleans with the bone Klaus needed, hadn’t really wanted to offer aid. Caroline’s really not sure what he knows. Damon could have told him things, lord knows he’d never been one to keep his opinions to himself. Plus, Alaric and Hayley usually grab drinks and a couple games of pool at The Grille when she’s in town. Hayley had been aware of Klaus’ thing for Caroline, had used it to her advantage even, so it’s possible she’d mentioned it to Alaric.

Caroline’s never really talked to anyone about Klaus. She and Stefan had talked around him, years and years ago, vague assurances that it was all right to think of Klaus as more than just pure evil. Caroline hadn’t been willing to delve deeper back then, too uncomfortable with her own monster to consider Klaus’, and she’s not going to open up that can of worms with her ex-fiancée of all people.

It’s about a week before they break for the summer, Hayley’s around having come down to celebrate Hope’s 8th birthday the previous month. She’d stuck around to offer some advice about a pair of werewolves (one triggered one not) brothers who had been sent their way by an acquaintance Jeremy had made on his super-secret hunter adventures and had then had decided it wasn’t worth going back to New Orleans only to return in a couple of days to help Hope pack up. She’s waiting for Klaus with Hope and Caroline’s situated herself a little farther away instead of camping out in the hallway, in a neighboring room that they use for classes, with the door open.

Klaus is usually incredibly prompt so Caroline’s confused when the hour ticks passed and she doesn’t hear his voice. She grows alarmed when the low murmur of Hayley and Hope talking grows louder, Hope obviously upset and Hayley speaking assurances in soothing tones. She hears Hope begin to cry, wrenching sobs before she sprints from the room, her footfalls pounding up the stairs to her room. The door slams and Caroline’s glad that Hope’s got her magic suppressing bracelet on. Replacing windows in a house this old was a bitch even if she wouldn’t hold it against the girl. She came by it honestly - rage, dramatics and destruction - were areas in which Klaus excelled.

The other room is silent until Hayley lets out a long sigh.

Caroline could pretend to be completely unaware. She really wasn’t sure if she and Hayley could do heart to hearts.

But, since Damon had once called the school home, they’d found more than a few fancy bottles of booze stashed around the house. Alaric had claimed most of them but Caroline’s got one hidden in her office figuring she might need it one day. She clears her throat calling, “How about a drink?” tentatively.

Hayley’s in the doorway in an instant, “God, yes.”

“Meet me in my office. I’ll go get some glasses.”

Hayley cocks her head to the side, a hint of a challenge in her eyes, “Afraid I’ve got cooties?”

Caroline rolls her eyes, “I figured we were old enough to try to be classy.”

“Classy is overrated, Miss Mystic Falls. I won’t tell on you.”

It’s almost a taunt, something Caroline’s never been able to resist. She’s not sure if Hayley knows that and is exploiting it in an effort to get to the liquor or if she’s just naturally that kind of annoying. Not that it really matters. Caroline had been pretending to dust the bookcases but she abandons the task, dusting off her hands as she rises. “It’s a deal. Did Klaus cancel?”

Hayley’s snort is derisive, “Not officially.”

Caroline tenses, a thread of worry creeping in. “Is he okay?”

Hayley seems completely unconcerned. “I think he’s probably just buried under a warm body or two and tripping on some questionable substances. He’ll probably send her a pony to make up for missing the call. You might want to reserve some of his money for a stable and some hay.”

That doesn’t really ease Caroline’s mind and she’s attempting to figure out the best way to probe deeper without giving Hayley the wrong impression when Hayley continues. “Freya tracks all of them. Something to do with their blood. She’s got a map. If one of them died she’s know immediately. Klaus is fine, at least physically. His coping methods are just questionable and I imagine his body count is steadily climbing.”

“I turned off my humanity when my mom died.”

Hayley offers no judgement, is enviably casual in her response. “I kidnapped, tortured and killed vampires when my husband did.”

Caroline pauses, turning to look at Hayley, finding her composed and unashamed. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“His name was Jack. He was a werewolf. We were betrothed from birth. It was complicated but I did love him.”

She begins walking again as she processes, pulling out her phone when Hayley falls into step. She shoots off a quick text to Alaric, asking him to take charge of the girls for the evening. It’s clear that she and Hayley have things to talk about and Caroline’s pretty sure that this is going to be the weirdest bonding session she’s ever been a part of.

They’re definitely going to need the bourbon.

A couple weeks later, once the school is quieter (they have a few kids staying over the summer, the werewolves who left a bad home situation and a witch whose family had traditions just as screwed up as the Gemini Coven’s twinicide ritual) and Caroline’s day to day duties have relaxed, she dives into research mode. She reads through everything The Armory minions had sent, papers her office with her notes. She sees avenues, possibilities, but acknowledges that she might be too optimistic. She and her friends had been stupidly lucky in tangling with things more powerful than they were. If they could prevail, why couldn’t Klaus and his siblings?

Maybe Caroline just didn’t believe in losing.

Hayley had spoken frankly about what Klaus was up too, mentioned a few things he’d imparted during their sporadic conversations and some of the things Rebekah and Freya had said. He was aimless, she’d explained, no enemy to fight, no family to protect. He hopped planes randomly, found whatever amusements he could where he landed, his regular contact with Hope the only true demand on his time.

He hadn’t sent a pony but Hope could probably live her entire life – even if she ended up with an immortal one - without having buy a single tube of paint given the crates of stuff that had arrived the day after Klaus missed her call.

It was a tactic Caroline’s own father had used once or twice and it really pissed her off.

When Alaric mentions planning a trip, tosses out Busch Gardens as an option a lightbulb goes off in Caroline’s head. She counters with Disney World, steamrolling over Alaric’s objections to the expense (hello, they literally had millions of dollars) and the distance and the crowds by enthusing about how excited all the kids will be. A quick email to Hayley nets them some additional supervision so Caroline can beg off without much trouble.

Another email, longer and more difficult, gets her into contact with Freya Mikaelson. They speak on the phone, Freya clipped and wary as Caroline asks for her help in locating Klaus. Caroline does her best to remain pleasant, figures that the paranoia is understandable. Freya tells Caroline she’ll think about it, hanging up with a terse goodbye.

Caroline texts her a link to her Google Drive, figuring that sharing info was the best way to convey that she was serious about helping and not actually interested in Klaus’ death like so many other people apparently were.

The text she gets back a few hours later is… weird. It asks for a picture and, after debating for a few moments, wondering how it could possibly be relevant, sends one of her and the twins.

All the better to look sweet and harmless and trustworthy, right?

The reply is immediate, a confirmation that Freya will help and Klaus’ current location. Caroline might do a quick, triumphant happy dance. Someday, if Freya ever warms up to her, she’ll have to press and figure out what the deal with the picture is.

For now? Caroline’s crossing her fingers Klaus stays put and rushes to pack for Greece.

Once onboard Freya had turned out to be a wealth of information. She could apparently pinpoint Klaus’ location to within a couple of thousand feet on demand. And she had access to all his financial info so she was able to direct Caroline to the villa he was renting in Ios, muttering disbelievingly at the restaurant bills he’d been racking up while giving Caroline the specifics.

It’s midmorning when she arrives, the sun already scorching and a throng of people crowding the beach. Ios is a popular party destination, she’d read. Cheap enough for backpackers with some of the best nightlife in Europe. Music drifts from all over, varying beats and rhythms meshing into a chaotic pulse that covers individual conversations. Laughter rings out occasionally, the odd loud groan of someone dealing with a hangover less than gracefully. The sand is white and inviting, the water a pretty shade of blue. Caroline stares longingly at it for a moment, wishing she weren’t here just for business.

Well, maybe she wouldn’t be. She had packed a bathing suit. Just in case Klaus was easier to deal with than anticipated.

His place is set back from the beach, down a winding path and shaded by trees. The relief from the humidity is welcome and Caroline slows to enjoy it. When she rounds the final bend she immediately sees that the door is ajar, notes a bright yellow top fluttering from the porch rail.

She presses her lips together to keep in a groan of annoyance. Hayley had warned her, kind of, but Caroline hadn’t planned on having to deal with the participants in Klaus’ descent into hedonism directly.

Assuming they were still alive.

She hesitates for just a second before stalking forward determinedly. Caroline hadn’t flown halfway across the world to turn back now. She makes no attempt to be quiet, makes sure her feet strike the polished hardwood in a deliberate staccato beat, allows the door slam into the wall when she pushes it open. She wrinkles her nose as soon as she enters, a heavy sweet smell – weed smoke and tobacco, sweat and sex, not all that dissimilar to the aftermath of a frat party – immediately assaulting her.

Seriously, couldn’t they have cracked a window?

Caroline follows the trail of clothes down a hallway, a skirt, a green patterned button up. A grey t-shirt that screams Klaus, a high heeled sandal and a flashy pair of Nikes. A pair of men’s boots that she would also bet were his, followed by jeans, cargo shorts and lacy white panties.

She’d done the math easily enough but once she enters the bedroom she’s still a little taken aback. Feels her face heat, resists the urge to avert her eyes from the tangle of people on the bed. The room is trashed, a mirror broken and a bottle of wine dripping onto the carpet. She sees that a chunk is missing from the headboard, a crack in the wall above. Not that the room’s occupants seem concerned with losing a security deposit. Klaus is a little apart, sleeping on his stomach with his arms and legs stretched out. He’s barely covered with a sheet, one of his legs and most of a hip bare. His guests are evidently cuddlers, man with white blonde hair and an abundance of freckles is wrapped around a petite, tanned brunette without a stitch of fabric to cover them. No one so much as stirs as she enters and Caroline listens carefully, picks out two heartbeats, even and just slightly out of synch, and Klaus’ - slower but perfectly present. Her temper flares hot. God, she’d been worried about him?

“Must be nice to just hang out in paradise having orgies,” she mutters. “It’s not like you’ve got a bajillion freaking years to slut around and a kid who’s only going to be a kid once, right?”

There’s a chest of drawers next to the door, a vase of pretty purple blooms resting on top.

She’s throwing it before she can consider a more subtle approach. Not at the bed, because she’s nearly certain 2/3 of its occupants are human, but she’d put full vampire force into it so it explodes against the far wall with a satisfying crash.

She has no idea what happens when the two humans wake because Klaus’ reaction pulls her focus. He’s on his feet faster than she can perceive, slamming into her, all hot skin, lean muscle and iron grip, his eyes burning gold and fangs displayed. He propels her back through the door and into the wall of the hallway.

Which is also going to need to be repaired if the crash Caroline hears when she hits it is anything to go by.

The breathe is knocked out of her on impact, her vision going hazy for a moment, and Caroline feels one quick burst of fear when his hand closes around her throat but the pressure gone before she can even think to struggle. She coughs once, rubs at her skin where it chafes a little. Klaus has stumbled back a step, watching her with eyes that are horrified and slightly bleary, with a heavy dose of confusion. She waves, which is probably lame but it’s not like she can take it back. “I probably should have considered your eons of paranoia before I went with the rude awakening, huh?”

“Caroline?” he croaks, a hand coming up to rub at his face.

“Yep!” she chirps. “Pro-tip, if you were serious about thanking me in person you’re going to need pants.”

He grimaces, “Fuck,” he bites out.

“Language,” she chides, more out of habit then anything.

A small smile plays about his lips, “That was an excellent appropriation of a prim schoolmarm, love.”

It’s said with fondness, a note of teasing, but Caroline still finds herself bristling. Maybe it’s just Klaus, the way their conversations have always been more likely to be heated than cordial. “I suppose you’re right,” she replies sweetly, “No need to be polite. Have I mentioned you look kinda like shit?”

It’s not totally true, of course. His hair’s a mess and he’s too pale, the usual dusting of stubble on his jaw now thick and unkempt. It should make him look homeless but instead it manages to do great things for his lips. And below the neck he’s all smooth skin and taut muscle and it’s taking a ton of effort not to ogle the jut of his hipbones or the planes of his stomach.

He glances down but seems completely unbothered by his nudity. “Charming.”

“I try.”

He’s silent for a long moment, contemplative. “Caroline. What are you…” he seems to shake himself, eyeing her carefully, his face growing suspicious, like he’s not sure if he trusts what he’s seeing. “This is preposterous. What did I do last night?” he mutters almost to himself. “I don’t remember…”

She reaches out and pinches him, twists the bit of skin she grasps at the inside of his elbow brutally and fights a smile when he slaps her hand away with a hiss. “Yeah, I’m real.”

“Evidently.”

“How do you even get high? You drink alcohol like its water. I’d have figured your ancient hybrid bod burned through anything illicit.”

“With a little help from some ingenious witches, you’ll find anything’s possible. But do tell me more of your thoughts about my ‘ancient hybrid bod,’ sweetheart.”

She narrows her eyes in warning even as she fights not to smile. Inappropriate flirting was a clear sign that Klaus was close to firing on all cylinders. Which is exactly what she needed from him.

Caroline keeps her eyes on his face because she can’t claim to be unbothered by his lack of clothing (or that her thoughts about his hybrid bod were all that clinical). She slips to the side, spotting that Klaus’ visitors are awake. They look alarmed, clutching having hurriedly covered themselves. She nods at them, attempting a little dignity, before turning back to Klaus and jerking her thumb in the direction of the kitchen she’d passed. “You know what? I’m going to see if there’s coffee. Why don’t you do whatever compelling or charming it is that you were going to do to get rid of them and join me in a bit? With pants. Do you have any breakfast food-like?”

The look he casts back into the room isn’t hard to interpret. Caroline scoffs, “You were going to eat them?”

He lifts a shoulder, only mildly abashed, “Well, you can’t beat the convenience.”

She grits her teeth against the urge to make a very inappropriate joke about going out with a bang. Now was not the time for her brain to mouth filter to completely fail her. She’s not here to guilt him or shame him, figures that any attempt would be disastrous. They’d done similar dances before. He’d dig in, bristle under her judgement, she’d get pissed. They’d snarl and snipe until one of them stormed off and nothing would get accomplished. She’s started the leg work but she needs help – Klaus’ and his siblings. Hayley had mentioned that Kol was involved with a witch and Caroline knew they’d need one eventually. She averts her eyes as she smooths down her dress, keeps her tone light, “I don’t do body disposal on vacation. If you’re hungry, whatever, do your thing but if you’re killing them I’m leaving. And there are things I think we should talk about, Klaus.”

He stiffens, “Hope?” he grits out.

She shakes her head reaching out before she recalls that he’s still naked and snatching it back. “Totally fine. Meeting all the Disney princesses and eating fudge last I heard. I can show you pictures.”

His posture eases and he nods. “I’d like that. There’s no food but you can order whatever you wish. There should be a menu in the kitchen.”

“Great!” she says, perhaps more cheerily than necessary. Sue her, she’s kind of excited to get started, to apply her brain to something a little more challenging that lesson plans and supply orders. “The plane food was awful. Do you want anything?”

“One of whatever you’re having is fine,” he turns to reenter the bedroom but whirls back just as fast. He seems to hesitate, his expression softening to a degree Caroline can only recall seeing a scant few times. His words, once they come are halting, “I apologize for being less than welcoming initially. It’s… good to see you.”

Is it weird that she kind of wants to hug him? She probably would if he were dressed. She lets herself smirk. “You say that now,” she teases. “Wait until you hear what I’m here for. Hint: if I get my way hybrid spring break is about to be cut short and it’ll be work time. Sorry not sorry.”

Klaus doesn’t seem all that upset, his head tipping to the side and a shoulder lifting in a shrug. It’s unlikely, Caroline knows, that what he’s been doing is novel for him. Caroline’s never had much opportunity for debauchery but she assumes that just about anything would get boring after a while. “Color me intrigued,” he drawls. He surprises her by leaning forward and Caroline stills as his lips brush against her cheek. “Just give me a moment, hmm?”

His hand skims down her bare arm, and Caroline’s flooded by the memories she’s never let herself dwell on. He’d done something similar the last time she’d seen him, in the woods while the sun had set. Her skin had lit up in response then too though she’d chalked it up to the aftermath of the multiple orgasms.

That had been a goodbye. This? This feels like a hello.