#sorry i just hate how he lies the whole freakin time

[frostnerd]

I’m playing another run through of DA:I to romance Solas just to see what it’s like but ewwww i hate this bold traitor

[shirtlesssammy]

6x02: Two and a Half Men

Then:

Sam Winchester’s back from Hell

Now:

A woman runs with her baby from an unseen assailant in her house. She gets herself and her baby under the bed and they stay as quiet as possible. She sees her dead husband on the floor and can barely keep it together, but does, just in time for the assailant to pull her out from the bed, leaving the baby to watch the carnage. 

Dean, Lisa, and Ben start unpacking their life in their new home. 

Sam checks out the murdered couple. The baby is missing.

Dean orders pizza for lunch, disregarding Lisa’s earlier promise to Ben that they’ll check the neighborhood out when they go out for lunch. 

Sam confers with Grampa Campbell about the case. Something weird is happening with babies. Sam doesn’t see it, but notices that the house has a security system that wasn’t set off by the invader. They have a lead. 

Dean wanders into the garage to find Ben messing around with a shotgun from Baby's trunk. He makes it VERY clear that Ben will never shoot a gun. 

Ben wants to do what Dean does. Dean turns on the ol’ John Winchester charm and yells at Ben to shut up about the gun. Ben backs down and walks away, dejected. 

Samuel has found another family that has the same security system --and fits the profile of the previous victims. Sam heads out to find them. 

Lisa confronts Dean about his altercation with Ben. She wants to know what’s up with Dean. If they killed what was after them, why is he acting like this? She gets that he’s trying to protect them, but he’s scaring her. 

Sam gets to the couple’s house only to find them already murdered. He follows bloody footprints through the house. 

The murderer pops out at him and they fight. Sam slices him with a silver knife, and the wound hisses. The assailant runs away. 

While Dean secures the perimeter that night, Sam calls needing his help on a case. Dean insists that he’s out. Sam tells him something so interesting that Dean meets him. 

Sam saved the baby!

The next morning, Dean hands Lisa a gun, tells her to salt the doors and windows, and takes off to work the case with Sam. 

First on the agenda: shopping for baby supplies. As they’re checking out, the baby starts wailing. Neither brother knows what to do --and here I want to question what the hell Dean’s thinking. Sam has an excuse re: no soul, but Dean, you’ve taken care of a baby before. Anyway, they keep looking at the poor thing like it has two heads. 

A nice woman comes up to coo over the baby and asks his name. Dean answers, “Bobby” and Sam answers, “John”. Yep, the baby is named Bobby John. She offers to change his diapers for them. Dean glances over at a security monitor and sees that her eyes are glowing. 

Dean declines. More specifically he says, “Give me the baby before I stab you in the neck.” Bold. The lady takes off running with Bobby John. Sam wrestles the baby from her while Dean full body tackles her to the ground. She plays the old lady card and security comes after Dean. He runs. 

Sam and Dean need to get off the road, especially since the shifter caught Sam’s license plate and is now a cop tracking the number.

At a motel, Dean changes Bobby John’s diaper and then hums him to sleep with Smoke on the Water. EVERY TIME I’m sorry to say this just makes my brain emit a low, steady brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

For Tender Dean Science:

Okay, I’ve rebooted. 

Sam - who has spent the whole time seated in front of research material - is impressed at Dean’s fatherly chops. But like, HE RAISED YOU, SAMMY. You must at least be able to logically analyze your memories? Dean chalks up his skillz to his recent experience parenting Ben. “I know he’s not my kid, but lately I’ve been feeling like...yeah, he is.” He’d like to raise Ben better than they grew up. In related news, do you ever want to just chew off your own arm???

Soulless!Sam informs Dean that moving Lisa and Ben from place to place is just as bad as their own fractured childhood. 

Sam pushes Dean to consider that his paranoid behavior is turning him into their father. I do like that Sam is helping my girl Lisa out with the traumatized man living in her home but DAMN, SAM. While Dean broods over his failures as both a father and a partner, Sam realizes that the dad in the recent deadly home invasion is still alive. He heads out, leaving Dean to dip his finger in whiskey and let Bobby John have a taste.

Bobby John’s dad is...not bereaved. His wife was cheating on him and got pregnant. (So apparently she deserved a gruesome death? Huh. Good to know, dude.) She denied she was cheating, telling him that he’d come back early from a trip and they’d had sex. It’s fun how the layers of trauma this cold open woman goes through just get worse and worse. 

At the motel, Dean’s relaxing on the vibrating bed when there’s a wet explosion from the crib. It’s not a poopy diaper! When he peers over the crib, Bobby John’s an entirely new baby. (He’s the baby on the diapers box and I really hope those parents got to keep that prop!) Sam calls with a new theory - the baby’s father is a shapeshifter!

Bobby John gets cleaned up just in time for a shady manager to knock on the door and demand to be let in. The shapeshifter cop from earlier bursts in just as Dean unlocks the door. He’s there to bring the baby to “our father,” whomever that is! They engage in fisticuffs, until Sam arrives and shoots the shifter.

Later, they’re driving off with Bobby John to find a safe haven for the little tyke. “I didn’t even know they had babies,” Sam says, of shifters. “I thought they were just freaks of nature - like, X-Men style.” Gurl, please. He refers to Bobby John as a monster, but Dean insists that Bobby John is just an innocent baby. If I had a dollar for every time this show danced around this point only to fuck off and forget it in the next episode, I’d have a lot of dollars. 

Sam suggests bringing Bobby John to the Campbells to raise, which Dean thinks is a monumentally poor idea. (I’m Dean/Cas endgame BUT imagine society if Dean had brought Lisa a shapeshifter baby to raise!!!) Sam “not all hunters” the Campbells, then says that Samuel is like Dean. This is...not the slam dunk argument Sam thinks it is. “I’m a freakin’ head case,” Dean rebuts and it is a SOLID REBUTTAL. Still, they head to the Campbell’s compound.

And it is a literal compound, with armed guards standing patrol at the metal gates. In the grim main building, cold Campbells circle Dean and Bobby John like sharks. All the Campbells look like they’re one step away from taking a knife to the baby. Dean refuses to hand over Bobby John to any of the “family.” Sam asks to hold Bobby John. Sam then immediately turns around and hands Bobby John over to Samuel and I CHEW MY OWN ARM OFF I HATE SOULLESS!SAM sometimes. Dean wants to know what the plan is now.

All the dark looks shot between the Campbells make me want to scream, and then weep. 

Dean’s worried about the Campbells wanting to study Bobby John (in the mad scientist way) and Christian Campbell laconically comments that Dean’s mind goes straight to torture. When Dean demands an explanation, it’s revealed that the Campbells know aaalllll about Dean’s torture time in Hell. 

The Campbells also fantasize about what a great hunter a shapeshifter will make. Samuel demands that Dean trust him, and then interrogates Christian about his baby-making failures with his wife. He offers Bobby John to Christian. “The crap I do for this family,” Christian mutters as he takes the baby. READERRRRRRRRRS, I hate him.

Outside, a dog yelps. Dean and Sam flee for the panic room with Bobby John while the Campbells load up with weapons. A shapeshifter arrives, wearing Samuel’s face. They tranquilize him after a fight, and try to take him prisoner. 

The shifter heads down to the panic room wearing Sam’s face, tosses Sam across the room, and then just...shimmers himself into Dean’s form. 

The shifter pins Dean against the wall, cutting off his air until he passes out. He then takes Bobby John and calmly walks out. 

Later, they all reconvene after the fight. Samuel reveals that the shifter was an alpha shifter, who spawned all the other shifters. “The lore” also says that an alpha can sense their babies anywhere. 

As Dean and Sam walk out to the car, Dean goes over the details of the hunt. He wants to know if Sam registered what the shifter at the motel had said about his “father.” Sam lies incredibly poorly, but Dean puts it all together. If Sam knew the alpha was on the hunt, then he would have known that he would come after Bobby John. Dean wants to know if he was using the baby as bait. Sam plays it off - he just thought the Campbell compound was the safest place. UGH DOUBLE UGH at all the terrible layers. 

Samuel has a brief phone call, complaining to an unknown boss about how hard it was to try to take the alpha shifter prisoner. 

Back at Lisa’s, Dean frets about the best way to keep Lisa and Ben safe. He acknowledges that he’s been acting like a prison guard. “You tell yourself you’re not gonna be something...my dad was exactly like this. All the time. Scared the hell outta me.” Lisa tells him that she knows one thing: 

She looks at him, and sees someone who wants to hunt. But she also tells him that he sees himself as “some bad, awful thing. But you're not.” She proposes that Dean head out to hunt with his brother, and stop by when he can. Maybe they can have it all!

Dean smiles a real, honest smile in the garage as he pulls the car cover from Baby. Smoke on the Water plays us through a truly gratuitous hot rod close-up of Baby. The curves! The headlights!

For I’m Just Gonna Give You Two the Room Science:

Dean is back in town!

Baby Quotes:

So either we've got monsters grabbing babies to make baby stew, or we've got a bunch of psychotic yokels grabbing babies to make baby stew. Either way, it's baby stew, which is bad

You think I speak baby?

I've never seen a baby monster before

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[greenpanda-djg]

Lars

Okay feel free to disagree but someone on twitter set me off.

I relate to Lars and love him as a character he is an asshole and is pretty verbally abusive BUT in the show he has never harmed a fly he is more a coward than anything. To me Lars was just a kid in a bad place who just couldn' socolise to save his life.

Now Ronaldo and Sadie.

These two are the mose VILE human beins in SU the most worst of all? Is how everyone ignores the shitty things they've did and blame Lars.

It is awful.

So Ronaldo, Sadie, Lars investigate a house- it has a gem in it and the house eats Sadie so what does Ronaldo do?

He picks up Lars and almost feeds him to the house where Lars could potentially die.

Again Ronaldos ex-best friend sacrificed for a stranger he just met.

Another, Lars had self-esteem issues and didn't have much confidence in his body, has footage/photos of him getting hurt and in his case embarrsing and told Ronaldo "No I don't want the whole world on the internet to see me like that."

Did Ronaldo care? He was going to do it anyway so Lars destroyed the pictures and ROnaldo got pissed?

Like dude he said no- take no for an answer.

ROnaldo ALSO knocked out steven [I thought it was a rock/some say potato] BUT the fact that Steven was knocked out WITH a black eye for Garnet and the others to save Steven only coz he dressed up as 'snepple' Snake people. Ronaldo was unhinged!

Then sadie, the gaslighting Gatekeep Girlboss hereself.

There was a movie called "Hole' with Kiera Knightly, a girl looked her best friend and some guys in a hole for days JUST so she could get with the guy she liked, Kiera died, so did the others until it was just her, the guy and HIS best friend, the guy killed his best friend because he opened up a fizzy drink and when she admitted to locking them in and that she could've opened the door the whole time he went berzerk and almost killed her.

She was the murderer who got away from it.

And SADIE trapped Steven a CHILD with Lars and UNWILLING PARTICPANT on an ISLAND just to get close with him and she DID she made him vunerable and emotionally dependent on him and when he was like "SAdie you knew where the portal was the whole time what the fuck?" The episode framed it as if it was LARS being unreasable.

But sadie was limping, beaten up hurt her arm she was Hurting herself and didn't see how that was unhealthy that she put herself through that for a guy?

That is some anne wilkes shit.

And the fact the Steven was pursuaded to think it was LARS who was the problem that HE was the one just not being open when really Lars probably picked up that Sadie was a fucking Physcho and it was great that he stopped being friends with Ronaldo from day one becayse that guy just [ugh I freakin hate him so much- except his kid brother and dad are cool]

So yeah hate Sadie, also she BITCHED that Lars wasn't there and that she was doing extra shifts because Lars was [I'm sorry?] in space? And yeah he freakin DIED AND TURNED PINK!

But No it's his fault coz it's always his fault!

Also SHe lied about the island, but Lars in DANGER so when Lars lied to hang out with friends? Because they're still in school and maybe he wanted to have fun?

So she has Steven give him those spicy rock things that had lars spitting fire he could've burned his throat to shit and Sadie was blaming Lars AGAIN for LYING????

What. The. Fuck???

And after that episode Lars stopped hanging out with the cool kids, coincidink? Maybe- I don't know what the SU crew were thiking.

Weird how this show is talking about relationships, and being HEALTHY and talking about your feelings.

But Ronaldo and Sadie are the most narcicisict characters [and from someone who had gaslighting 'friends' and ruined relationships because of it and even saw a youtubers in depth story of going through something similair] It seems obvious to me that ROnaldo/Sadie sucks.

So why is it that the fandom hates Lars and praises Sadio/Ronaldo to the high heavens I just don't get it and don't want to.

okay I'm done

[bibislut]

A Girl Walks Into A Tower

After finding out her best friend is actually Spider Man, Leena's whole world changes. Enter: a meddlesome billionaire, some flirty super soldiers, and one (1) stubborn God of Mischief. Throw in a real need for better communication, a game of spin the bottle and a whole load of banter - and you'll have yourself a real good time at Stark Tower.

Also known as Loki is hella sexy, hella moody and really freakin' stubborn. Featuring: Peter Parker being the cutest, Sam Wilson being a cheeky bitch and a little bit of being a bad ass on the reader's part.

This work has explicit language, sexual content and some mentions of blood / violence, so please take this into consideration before reading!

Word Count: 19,260

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1

You couldn't help but close your eyes as you took the stairs up to your apartment by memory. You'd lived here for nearly a decade now, and the 9 flights' every creak and whine were ingrained in your memory by now, and the 10 hour shift you'd just done could be felt in every muscle: you couldn't help but rest your eyes for a moment.

You finally reached your landing and opened your eyes only to find Peter Parker dozing against your door frame, dried blood staining his skin from his hairline to his eye. The seventeen year old often came to you for a stitch up, not wanting to frighten his Aunt with his injuries. You frowned down at his snoring form and hitched your bag better on your shoulder, crouching down to place your hand on his cheek. "Peter." you whispered, not wanting to startle him. The teenager opened his eyes with a dopey smile.

"Hey, Lele."

"Hey idiot, let's get you inside." You couldn't help but return his warm smile as he shrugged off your attempt to help him up - you always forgot how strong he was. You pulled your keys from out of your pocket and opened the door. Dropping your bag to the floor, you flicked on the lights and shut the door behind Peter, watching him limp to your kitchen table.

"What happened this time?" you asked as you rolled up your sleeves and washed your hands. You reached for a flannel from the bottom drawer and ran it under the hot water.

"Just some kids from school."

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew the teenager would be picking at his lips like he did every time he lied. You knew he'd never tell you what really went on before he turned up to your apartment - he never did. You rung out the cloth.

"I swear to God Peter, if I come home one day to find you dead on my doorstep, I will resurrect you just to kill you myself." You couldn't help the motherly tone that clipped your words, despite only having a few years on the boy. Peter winced both at your words and at the pressure you applied as you wiped away the blood. As you cleaned the wound, you were relieved to see that it wouldn't need stitches, but there was a good chance it would scar. You frowned.

"I know, I know! I'm sorry Leena..." He surged forwards to wrap you in a tight hug and you sighed into his hair. You'd known him since he was 6 and you were practically family now. His uncle and your dad had died the same year, your mom joining them a few years ago. You'd always looked after each other, silently vowing protection over the other with each funeral attended. A loud banging at the door pulled you both apart, and you looked at each other in silence as you went to the drawers and pulled out your handgun, Peter walking into the shadows as was protocol (though you had never had to follow it before).

You were a good shot, but Peter was much more quiet and agile - a surprise attack suited him well. You don't know when you'd both become so jumpy, perhaps it was when Aliens began ransacking the city in 2012, or when the murders on the news became more frequent, or when... It didn't really matter. The world was a shit storm, and you'd let hell freeze over before you let anyone you loved get hurt because you weren't prepared.

You looked through the peephole to see someone you most certainly would not have expected. You turned to whisper to the shadows where you knew Peter was. "It's Tony Stark!" Peter emerged quickly, pushing you out of the way to unlatch the door, leaving you gaping like a fish.

"Hey, Mr Stark!" He threw himself at the billionaire, wrapping his arms around him. The businessman-turned-superhero patted the boy's back. The dirt that covered Peter smeared across the obviously expensive navy suit, but neither seemed to care.

"Good to see you alive, kid. Friday said you had some injuries and when I looked on your suit tracker you weren't in your apartment." He pulled Peter back to stare at him sternly. "Care to explain?" You looked at the two of them in shock. Since when had Peter met Tony Stark? And since when had they become so obviously close? The worry etched across the philanthropist's face certainly seemed genuine enough.

Peter turned to look at you anxiously. "I was with Leena, I stopped a robbery a couple blocks away, but they must have got me because I was bleeding, so I came here. She does a great job of cleaning me up, and I didn't want to scare Aunt May, you know how she wo-" he babbled, looking between the two of you, but stopped as Tony made a 'zip it' motion. You frowned at Peter's words; since when did he stop robberies? You put the gun you forgot you had been holding in the waist pants of your jeans and stepped forwards, offering your hand, which was far steadier than you expected.

"I'm Leena, I've known Peter since we were kids."

Tony shakes your hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, Tony Stark." You look between the two of them as awkward silence begins to fill the air. You turn to gesture towards your apartment.

"Would you like to come in?" That was what you were supposed to do, right? Offer hospitality? You shook your head quickly to yourself. What the hell was going on?

You lead the way for the two guys, but put a hand on Peter's chest. "Go wash your hands before I catch you putting dirt in the wound I just cleaned." He offers you a salute as he turns down the corridor.

You make your way back to the kitchen to find Mr Stark lounging at the table in the spot where Peter had sat. "Tea or Coffee?" you ask. You wonder for a moment if the month old dollar brew in your cupboard is even worth offering.

"Coffee, black, one sugar." He offers you a thankful smile. You turn around and pull out three mugs, one tea, one coffee and one hot chocolate for Peter. "I bet cleaning up Mr Friendly-Neighborhood-Spider-Boy gets a bit tiring." The billionaire offers as a replacement for the silence. You stiffen, turning to stare at him.

"What?"

He curses under his breath “He didn't tell you?" The business mogul suddenly looks panicked - a glaring contrast to the confident man you'd seen on TV.

You snap your neck to look at the now-frozen Peter Parker standing in the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face.

"What the flying fuck, Peter?!"

***************

You woke the next day at noon, not as rested as you'd hoped after you'd spent most of last night arguing with Peter. You had to admit you were proud of him, and it did make a lot of sense now that you thought about it. His constant 'fights at school', how light on his feet he was, how agile, how strong he was. You were kind of pissed that you hadn't figured it out before to be honest. You had had a hard time believing it all, but once Peter pulled his suit from his stash behind the couch, you didn't really have a choice but to accept the truth. Tony Stark had also been quite nice to talk to, and the way he treated Peter as his own was so great to see. He'd always needed a father figure. Tony had watched the two of you with rapt interest, seemingly pleased to meet someone so close to Peter. After a while Peter fell asleep on the couch, his head on your shoulder and you and Tony had mouthed your goodbyes. He'd woken up about an hour later and you gave him a hug as he climbed through your window to sneak back to his own apartment.

You sat up and stretched, stifling a yawn as you padded down the hall to the kitchen. A big yellow envelope hung from your letter box and you grabbed it curiously.

EVICTION NOTICE!

"Shit!" You cursed loudly, tearing it open. You knew the landlord was a slimy bastard, but you couldn't believe he was kicking you out. He was a selfish layabout and owned a few of the apartments in the building, yours being the nicest and largest. Knowing him, he probably wanted it so he could move in with his new girlfriend. Of course, he didn't say that in the notice, only that you had two weeks to pack your things and go.

*****

You'd spent the whole day at work lost in your thoughts, barely noticing the caffeine crazed customers around you.You didn't have enough saved to move anywhere decent, yet alone pay the first month's rent upfront as most landlords wanted. You couldn't move in with family - they were all dead or on the other side of the country. You didn't really have any close friends, only your work colleagues. That left Peter's place - but you knew they didn't have a spare room and you certainly couldn't squish everything you had into their living room.

You were still racking your brains by the time the last customer left the coffee shop at 9.55PM, and you hurried to wash their cup and sweep up, locking up and leaving. You trudged through the bitter cold of late-October the five blocks back to your building, bumping into the spider-boy himself in the foyer. You began walking up the stairs together, but found Peter frowning at you as you realized he'd asked you a question. You blinked at him.

"What?"

"You alright Lele? You seem distracted."

You pushed your hair out of your face with a grimace. "I'm being evicted."

It was Peter's turn to blink at you. "What?"

"That bozo, Ethan, is kicking me out." You tried to keep the childlike petulance out of your voice but failed miserably.

"Oh, shit. What are you gonna do?" You hated to be the reason for Peter's worried expression.

"I don't know. I'll figure something out though Pete, I always do." You kissed him on the cheek and patted him on the arm as you reached your perspective doors. "Goodnight, Pete."

Friday was usually games night, but he seemed to understand your lack of excitement without you having to explain. You threw him a grateful look and went your separate ways.

Read the rest on Ao3

[kurlyfrasier]

Spaghetti Girl (Part 2/3)

Dean x Reader

Synopsis: Ok so I had a really good description but lost it so.....yeah. Can’t think of words right now. Will add synopsis later...This is one of my favorite SPN fanfics I’ve written, so please read!

Word Count: 1790

Warnings: none

You had no idea Dean had a tender smile playing on his lips as he watched you dance. If one could really call it dancing. But it was good exercise and ten times more fun than your everyday workout routine your doctor had you on in an attempt to keep your symptoms down. 

Speaking of which, you would have to tell the boys you needed to split for a couple of weeks to go for your check-up, refill your meds, and probably get your yearly MRI done. The thought had you unknowingly stop dancing mid-song, a frown marred your features. How would you go about telling Dean you suddenly had to leave? You had no family, none who were blood related, anyway. They were the only hunters you really knew, so you couldn’t claim you were visiting another hunter. Maybe you could tell him you found a simple case. No need for them to come along. Maybe you could slip away. It’s not like Dean would really notice. He had made it clear he doesn’t like you anyway. 

Snapping your fingers, you strode out of the room, deciding that you’d tell Sam you would be gone for a couple of weeks and slip away that night with Dean none the wiser. Perfect! Then Sam could tell Dean you had to leave for whatever reason. That was, if he even noticed you were gone. For now, you would pack and find Sam.

Packing took less than ten minutes. You had decided to only take the essentials, a couple of books, and your trusty weapons duffell that barely left your side, just in case. You decided not to worry about your missing Nicholas Sparks book. You could always buy another one anyway. Sam, on the other hand, took a few minutes to find. When you did find him, you were surprised to see him in the kitchen. Alone.

“I thought Dean was making dinner?” You asked, slowly stepping into the room, eyes roaming for Dean, worried he would pop out any second and ask questions you didn’t want to answer. There was no way you could lie through one of his interrogations. The mouthwatering aroma of beef and red sauce didn’t even penetrate your senses, you were so nervous.

“Uh, he was,” Sam looked over his shoulder and continued when he didn’t see Dean with you. “He is, really. He had to step out for a sec. Looks like he made our famous Winchester Pasta Sauce too,” he smiled. Maybe he could help his brother out a little. He did seem a bit desperate earlier.

“Oh good. About him stepping out, I mean. And the sauce. Sounds delicious,” you babbled. Taking a deep breath, you continued. “Anyway, Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta leave tonight. I, uh, have someplace I have to be. Is it okay if I leave most of my stuff here?”

“Yeah that’s fine. Y/n, you know you’re welcome anytime and that room will always be yours, right? You’ve been here for a few months now. I was hoping you were thinking of this place as your home.”

“Yeah, yeah. It is. I just wanted to make sure, thanks.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions as you awkwardly stood there, rubbing your hands up and down your hips. A sad attempt at wiping the sweat off your clammy palms. That happened when you were nervous… or lying. Or anytime you felt distressed, really.

“So, where are you going?”

“Denver,” you lied. You were actually going to St. Louis, but you didn’t want Sam to have to lie to Dean. This way if he asks or goes looking for you -which would happen with your luck- Dean won’t find out what’s really going on. Then he’ll never know about your neuromuscular problem and you’ll be able to continue hunting with them. You knew it was stupid, really. You knew hunting wasn’t the smartest thing to be doing with your disease. Not smart at all actually, but you felt like you were really helping people and that felt good. Nothing was going to keep you from ganking creeps and killers if you had any say in the matter. Not even the Winchesters. Luckily you caught the disease early on, so for now, your symptoms haven’t completely disabled you. Make things difficult? Yes. But you haven’t gotten to the point where your limbs don’t listen at all.

“So, why Denver?” 

“Change of scenery,” you shrugged. “I like the Rockies. It’ll be a nice vacation and Dean won’t have to be on his toes around me all the time.”

“I don’t think Dean minds having you around, y/n.”

“It’s okay, Sam, really. Some people just don’t click, ya know?” Even though you had wished that Dean would notice you. Or at least talk to you. Or that you would grow on him over time, like asparagus. Nobody really likes asparagus the first few times they try them.

“You gonna leave after dinner?”

“Yeah, tonight. After you guys go to bed.”

“No goodbye, huh?” Sam chuckled.

“This is my goodbye, Tallboy,” you smacked him playfully on the arm. “I just figured Dean isn’t going to care one way or the other. So instead of making him wish me luck and say goodbye, I’ll just slip out.” You smiled sadly. You think Dean and yourself would get along well if he gave you the chance. You both love classic rock and you’re both great hunters. He always makes you laugh when he deigns to tell jokes in front of you. Not that he ever tells you the jokes. “Besides,” you continued, “I’ll only be gone a couple of weeks.”

Around the corner in the hallway, Dean’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. You were leaving. You were leaving that night and you weren’t going to tell him goodbye. Had he really made you think that little of him?

He had followed you to your room earlier, watched you pack and wondered what for. Now he knew. 

Without warning he walked into the kitchen as if he had no clue about the conversation. “Hey.”

“You’re back,” Sam stated the obvious, noticing immediately something was wrong, but kept silent about it as he moved away from the stove. “Uh, I went ahead and added the sauce.”

“Yeah, thanks man.” Dean was furious with you. Not that he had any right to be and he knew it. Which only made it worse. He wanted a nickname. He wanted you to tell him goodbye, for you tell him about your medical stuff. He wanted you to talk to him about books and movies and music and- well, everything. Yet all he had done was make everything worse and now, when he finally decides to show you he wants you- needs you, really- you’re leaving. For two whole weeks. He was going to lose his mind without you around. It was hard enough making you partner with Sam on hunts. At least in those situations he would be within hearing distance. But Denver?

“Spaghetti will be done soon, y/n, if you wanted some,” Dean said, unable to face you. 

If you wanted some? Of course you wanted some. There was no way even Dean didn’t know spaghetti was your favorite food of all time. Actually, maybe there was a chance he didn’t know. Considering he always seemed to go out of his way to ignore you.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll go clean up real quick,” you said, slipping out of the kitchen. Sometimes Dean could seriously be frustrating. Maybe it was time you started thinking about leaving the Winchester’s bunker permanently. Obviously only one brother wanted you there, as much as you wished it wasn’t so, and it wasn’t the one in charge.

“That was-”

“A disaster, Sam. A complete and total disaster.”

“Well, as long as you-”

“Know? Yeah, I know. I heard every freakin’ word, Sam. Every. Word.”

“Oh. It’s only for a couple of weeks, Dean.”

“Only!? I’ve already wasted three months! Possibly ruined any chance I have.”

“I doubt that. Y/n’s naturally forgiving. We can come up with a plan while she’s gone. A whole new Dean.” Sam moved his hand in front of him as if he was reading the words in the air.

“Or we could follow her and make up a plan on the way.” Dean poured the sauce in with the noodles and started mixing aggressively.

“Follow her?”

“Yeah. To Denver.”

“You mean St. Louis.”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “I mean Denver. That’s what she said.”

“Yeah, but she was lying. You’d know that if you were in the room with us earlier. There’s no way she’s going to Denver.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Dean whisper-hissed as he heard you walking their direction from down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Both Winchesters were sleeping as you tiptoed through the halls. You had put your bags in your old Wrangler while Dean finished up the spaghetti. And by bags, you meant all of them. You were leaving the Winchesters for good. Never to return. You were sad about not telling Sam to his face, but a letter would have to suffice. There was no way you were going to go one more day in Dean’s presence. You have no idea what you ever did to him, but that man really didn’t like you. He only tolerated you because you and Sam got along so well and you knew it. But now you had to get to your check-up with Doc.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, shaking his brother awake. They had decided after dinner to head out after you in the morning. Sam had put a tracking device in your phone the first week you stayed at the bunker. So following you would be easy. “Dean! Wake up! She’s gone. Like gone gone.”

“Gone?” He shot up, clothes still on from yesterday. He didn’t want to waste even a second when they were to head after you.

“Yeah, she left a letter. Dude, she really thinks you hate her.”

“Give me that,” he snatched the paper out of Sam’s hand and sat up to read.

Sam,

I’m sorry, but this is a permanent goodbye. I know we get along splendidly and you make me feel very welcome, but Dean can’t stand me. I’m done making him feel uncomfortable in his own home. For that’s exactly what the bunker is for you guys.

I’ll miss you Tallboy. I hope you both live long lives like you’re meant to because the world would be nothing without you guys. Be careful out there. Maybe someday we’ll meet up again. 

Thanks for everything,

Y/n

P.S. Let me know if you find my book

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3

[highgaarden]

in the woods, somewhere; He doesn’t want to tell her that he is tired of haunting her, that years have passed and the world is creaking with the weight of them, and that he loves, he loves, he loves her—

written for @klaroline-events​’ june kc bingo + ghost 2021 words, canon-divergence, romance 

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In another city in another country in another world, almost, a dead girl scrubs her dead lover from her skin in bubbles that smell of lavender and bergamot, eucalyptus and lemon oil. She wants new skin, a skin that has been taught to forget all things skins were sometimes sentimental about: silly things like the learned touches on her knees, the feeling of lips in the hollows of her, the cold of whispers in the swoop of her ribs.

She mourns the loss of her body, her heart, how they yearn to be covered by a man so burdened with age he should be ugly from it, but he is beautiful, beautiful, and she mourns him, too. Mourns the love she had planted in his chest like a garden grown from twigs and other broken things. Mourns his churlish grins, the quick of his fingers winding in her hair, mourns the ache in her teeth whenever he shows her his wrist like a quiet, quiet secret.

She mourns him, she buries him, and then she sinks lower into the water to drown in her pretty petal ocean.

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As all fights go, Caroline could hurl a vicious one, with fists and kicks and screams and bloodshed, but Klaus can deflect and duck and appear and vanish. When he comes back she is always curled in a corner, throat hoarse and nails bleeding, and he is always sorry.

“I love you,” she’ll say.

“I want you to die,” she’ll say.

And he always says, “No you don’t. No you don’t.”

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Somewhere dark and green, Klaus kisses her, a suffocating she has not felt since Katherine had pushed her last breath out of her. He holds her to a tree and curls his fists into her hair and fits himself against her so well, and there is an unravelling inside her.

She stumbles out of her stupor, dazed and blinking, and he looks back at her like he doesn’t quite know what’s happened either.

“That was a really stupid promise you just made,” she says breathlessly, for want of something to say—her lips are trembling, her knees.

“I know,” Klaus says, so brilliantly rueful. “Gods, do I know.

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A story needs a beginning, a middle and an end, but the story of Caroline and Klaus, the dead girl and her dead lover, start in the moments in between. He already knows her name when he meets her on her second deathbed, and the sound of him already puts pinpricks in her heart.

“I know you,” she says.

“I’ll heal you,” he says.

“And then I’ll be yours, and then my friends will die, and then the world will end.” She’s stubborn, once-golden curls a flaccid yellow on coiled around cracked lips. “Leave the poison in me. I’m dead anyway.”

He sends her a gaze so intent and curious one could forget that he is the one who put her in this bed to begin with, who put fangs in her and veins around her best friend’s eyes and a knife in Elena’s chest. He hovers over her like a ghost, flicks the bell on her charm bracelet like he expects choirs to erupt. He looks at her fondly, like they’ve known each other for years.

“Stop that,” she snaps. “You don’t get to sit on my bedside on my freakin’ birthday and harp at me about roses and cities I’ll never see, about music I’ll never learn the names of, about food I can’t even enjoy because all I crave now is blood.” She coughs, probably spittles over him some, but whatever, she’s dying.

It resounds in her like a gong, and she claws desperately at her sheets, wants to call for her mother, doesn’t want Klaus’ face to be the last one she sees before she bites the dust, kicks the bucket. She wants the sooth of her mother’s fingers in her hair; instead she gets the apple-white of Klaus’s brandished wrist.

“Go ahead,” Klaus says invitingly. “It tastes just like wine, I’ll bet.”

“I hate you,” she says, she cries. She’s so close she can taste it festering in the gaping maw in her neck, the one that’s bubbling with the scent of poison and wolf. “I want to die.”

“No you don’t.” He props her up against him, cradled almost gently in his arms, and she feels his hands in her hair massaging, she smells his wrist like her last supper laid out before her, and her mouth waters. She parts her lips, her fangs push out, she’s so miserable and she’s so hungry. “No you don’t.”

+

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+

In the woods, somewhere:

Klaus had told her about cities greater than God and cathedrals that swallowed you whole. She supposes one day she’ll see them with her own eyes, not in his mouth, always wondering which ones were made up truths and which ones were lies meant to lure her out of this town.

She looks at him, and she’s been told that it isn’t good to look at Klaus Mikaelson the wrong way, or the right way, or in any sort of way, but when Caroline looks she pierces, she wants, and she takes. She takes his heart and his teeth and his blood, collected in little vials in the grooves of rotten roots, and he tries not to look pleased.

It is a strange sort of understanding that they have, that the trees listen to. She is older now, but still young enough to know that nothing lasts forever, not really, and Klaus – Klaus just wants her to remember him when she leaves.

“Absconds,” he corrects himself after a fashion. “Like a lady in the night, gone forever.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” and it’s a promise as much as it is a confession to misery, “because somebody needs to keep Elena from you.”

Klaus looks thoughtful. “What if Elena doesn’t need keeping?”

“You mean: what if you killed her.”

And Klaus grins then, his eyes crinkling, his hair curling around his perked ears. “You are an absolute delight.”

“Flattery isn’t a ticket to massacre, buddy.” Caroline picks her way expertly through the dead roots in the forest floor, the muck of flattened leaves and jagged little stones. “She’s almost eighty, her birthday’s next week, and you are not writing her into your twisted little recipe book of Easy Make Hybrids, Holiday Edition.”

In this page of the book they are friends, somehow, and I’m sure you’re wondering how they end up the way they do—but as all good romances go, there is never a clear distinction when one crosses that threshold, is there? Caroline will wonder this herself, one day, in her perfumed tub in her smarting, raw skin.

“I do like you,” Klaus says, and Caroline wonders, too, if this is a step up from I fancy you. It’s a boyish admission, shy, almost – she peers at him sidelong, and scoffs.

“Flattery!” she announces to the woods. It rustles in agreement.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Klaus says reproachfully. “Why won’t you consider my offer?”

Caroline stops in her tracks, suddenly, and he almost bumps into her if not for the isms that make up the vampire parts of him. She turns now to properly look at him. Klaus looks at her the way he always does, like there is something stirring just underneath the stillness of him, the slow beat of his undead heart. And she asks, honestly, “Aren’t you tired of haunting me?”

“Not for a minute.” Klaus tilts his head. “What if I promised to stay away from Elena?”

“You’ve made this promise before.”

“What if I promised to stay away from you?”

And this, this catches Caroline’s attention. He looks like he means it, and there troubles the part of her that is always trying to catch him in a lie, the part that longs to just try him, to call his bluff. She is older now, she’s no longer a prey to disillusionment, but Klaus—he is older now, too, but the world no longer marvels at it. Everyone’s older now.

“What do you want?” Her eyes narrow. Her heart races.

Klaus hums, Klaus smiles, and Klaus says: “A kiss.”

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When Caroline says Klaus is terrible at keeping promises, what she really means is that he keeps them.

She counts the vials of his blood, counts the different ways they catch sunlight.

She counts how many days have passed.

How many years.

Some twenty years later Elena dies, and she moves to a different city in another country in another world, almost, where the cathedrals swallowed you whole. Whether the sketch of rooftops around her were greater than God she doesn’t know, but one day Klaus finds her in a little café in the oldest part of the city and he sweeps her up and he kisses her the way he had in those woods so long ago, and this, if she had payed attention to anything other than the part of his teeth and the taste of his tongue, this is the beginning of their undoing.

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“I love you,” she says, vicious like her temper, spiteful, because these are words that aren’t true and Klaus knows that.

“No you don’t,” he says, and he tries to shush her, tries to cover her mouth, but the words keep coming, and he pushes away.

He doesn’t want to tell her that he is tired of haunting her, that years have passed and the world is creaking with the weight of them, and that he loves, he loves, he loves her—

“And if you’ll stop being stubborn you would shut that pretty mouth of yours and just listen—” His hands shake and he stills them with a quick flex, “I did not kill Regina, I did not order anything on her—”

“I did not spend a hundred years in Mystic Falls to watch Elena’s great-granddaughter fall prey to the kind of shit she went through,” Caroline hisses through her teeth. “You knew. You knew about Regina and you didn’t tell me—”

“Because you would have gone back,” Klaus says, furious and miserable, and – and just listen, love, listen—

“And if I had, she wouldn’t be DEAD!” She roars, and these are words that Klaus doesn’t understand, tears she’s shedding not because she’s seen the face of her friend die for the umpteenth time, but this. This is proof that Klaus, no matter what he says, no matter what he does, he will always be the monster she’d met on her second deathbed, will always put pinpricks in her heart.

Klaus reaches for her but she slaps his hands away, the room spinning around her with names Klaus finally sheds: Tristan, Genevieve, Marcel, an old curse, a new prophecy, the weight of the full moon, Regina. Regina, the final doppelganger, the last of the Petrova legacy.

“You couldn’t just let it go,” she whispers.

“We’re the same, Caroline,” he whispers back, and her heart breaks.

+

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This is not the ending, nor is this the beginning, but this is Klaus and Caroline sitting in the same room they had sat in so long ago, her second deathbed and his first lie. Only this time, she is holding a match.

Everyone they know is dead, after all.

“This way, we can start again.” She does not shake when she exhales.

Klaus says nothing, just breathes her in, eyes bright and wet and disbelieving - he loves her. The dead girl and her dead lover dance slowly in the middle of the room, the flame flickers between them, wavers, but never goes out. She could drop it any time, and the idea torments him as much as it tickles.

And then everything is on fire.

Caroline holds her hand out and he takes it, and she leads him out of there, tears drying on her face, the tail of his coat simmering and singed. She has new skin, she tells him, and he has new blood in his veins, and she’ll bet that it will not taste like wine.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.13

Keith came out the shower doing his best drowned rat expression to date. With the towel around his shoulders, Lance wondered if Keith was protecting his neck, or preventing his shirt from soaking through. Having already showered, Lance had a glass of blood wine in one hand, and his phone in the other, dinner plans having gone out the window while he was busy playing with Keith

“Do you want the good news, or the bad news?”

Keith crossed his arms, Lance having to stomp down his compulsion to go dry the younger males hair off with a towel

“What?”

“Well, remember my friends from the other night, yeah, Hunk’s going to be here in about 20 minutes to pick us up”

“I’m not going”

“You don’t even know where we’re headed to”

“I don’t care. We’re not going”

It didn’t escape Lance that “I” had turned to “we”. He figured the hunter wouldn’t trust him to go out alone, and if he hadn’t been totally awol from his normal life he would have been turning down the invitation for some serious self pampering time

“Sorry, but you see, when my friends want to hang out, I don’t turn them down. You need to go get changed into something more bar appropriate”

“We’re not going. We haven’t finished talking. You turned me, and I need to know more”

With the number of times Keith had accused him, Lance felt like he’d know Keith far longer than a week and a bit... God, he couldn’t even remember if it had been a week, Keith’s idiocy was spreading

“And I hear I was thinking you’d finally gotten a clue. We’re going, because I’m invited. I’ll go on my own if I have to, but I had the feeling you’d freak out and think your prey was running away”

Keith’s emotions flickered across his face, obviously arguing mentally about the fact he couldn’t say no, and nor did he have the power to stop Lance

“Fine, but only so I can make sure you don’t turn anyone else. If you so much look like you’re going to bite someone, I will decapitate you”

“Excellent. I think I should have something in wardrobe that’ll fit. I’m guessing you like black on black”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“You’re wearing a black onesie. Some people might be into that, but at a bar, that suit’s a crime against fashion”

“It’s not made to be fashionable”

“No, it’s made so you can be all “bump in the night”. Blargh. Go change already”

Keith told Lance at least several times that wearing his clothes had been forced upon him. Lance wasn’t sure why, when Keith had chosen his own wardrobe out of what was available. In ripped skinny legged black jeans and a black silk button up, Keith looked passable. Lance chalking up the weird sensation of wanting to pat Keith’s butt to the fact he too was recovering from being poisoned. Keith was soooo not his type, never mind the fact the guy was a freakin’ human, Keith hated him with a passion. Nope. Keith didn’t look good in his clothes, nor would he look better out of them. Lance was just... going through a lot. That was it. He was not getting suckered in by those piercing purple eyes, or the way Keith’s collarbones peaked out of the shirt. The blood in his body had enough to deal with, without it deciding it needed to make a trip down south over absolutely nothing.

Leaving Blue feeding her face on wet food, Lance headed for the door, back tracking to grab Keith by the wrist and drag him along behind him. Keith was starting to object all over again, but Lance wasn’t having it. If he had to socialise around drunks, then the punishment should be shared by Keith for being so goddamn hot and stupid... mostly stupid with a dash of stupidly hot sprinkled on top, kind of like unwanted chilli flakes. Lance was feeling pretty confident in his own outfit, blue jeans, white shirts and cropped tan jacket, but Keith had one upped him without even trying. Maybe Keith would get laid and lose some of his prickliness? The anger loaf needed to let that anger go, and turn into that beautiful emo butterfly hidden inside his cocoon of douchery. Towing Keith out the house, Lance left the alarm off in case Shiro came back. Explaining Keith’s presence seemed a hard enough challenge as it was, explaining why Shiro was breaking into his house... that was a whole other kettle of fish.

*

Lance had been lied too. There was no bar, they were in fact in Platt, running a rehearsal of Hunk’s date with Shay on the weekend. Picking up Pidge, she’d thrown herself into the back of the car, hand narrowly missing Lance’s junk in her rush. Oogling Keith, Pidge had elbowed him as she buckled herself in, all Lance could do was offer a shrug. Hunk’d already been shocked enough for the three of them, Lance lying his arse off saying Keith had offered to stay a few days and help Lance take photos of his house as he was thinking of repainting. The photos were for the online lab thingo where you could upload your rooms and pick colours there. Yep, those were the words he used too, technology was forever changing and he openly admitted he missed the days before social media... other than the cat videos and memes.

With Keith having no cash, Lance paid. Choosing gold class tickets meant the food was included, and the seating private. The hunter looked spooked by human interaction, Lance ordering steak dinners for the pair of them because damn if he wasn’t in the mood for some budget dead cow. Buying the biggest coke they had, Lance enjoyed the fact that the mix ratio was whack with more syrup than soda water, the straw ending up chewed on before they’d even made it into the screening room. Lance wasn’t sure about the movie selection but with Hunk and Shay going to see the one rom-com playing, Lance steered the group away from buying tickets for it so his bestie and Shay could enjoy seeing it for the first together.

Taking their seats, Lance wound up between Pidge and Keith. Pidge immediately started playing with the chair remote, and Keith sighed in annoyance. Leaning in, Lance kind of felt bad that they hadn’t wound up at a bar. Keith would have been able to have a few drinks and kick back, then find someone to take to the bathroom and work that aggression out. Just because he hadn’t done the do, didn’t mean Keith wasn’t a seasoned professional

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know we were going to see a movie”

“Whatever”

“I’m serious. I didn’t know. I would have dressed warmer if I did, and would have insisted you put a jacket on”

“I’m not a kid”

“I know you’re not. I just feel bad. I was hoping you’d be able to relax a little...”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore”

“Okay, but I really am sorry”

When dinner came out, Keith poked at until he finally gave in, pretty much wolfing it down, half an hour later Lance had to excuse himself to the bathroom, finding Keith gone when he returned. Taking his seat beside Pidge, Lance leaned in

“What happened to Keith?”

“He said he needed the bathroom. Didn’t you see him?”

“No. How long ago did he leave?”

“Not long after you... Dude, what’s your deal with him?”

“My what?”

“Your deal. What’s he still doing here?”

“I asked him to take some photos of the house for me”

Pidge crossed her arms

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing”

“Who said I’m lying?”

“You did. I know you, and I know when you’re lying. Something’s off with Keith, and you’re acting really weird”

“I’m not acting weird”

“Are you two dating? Is that why you’re being weird? You feel like you can’t talk to us...”

“No! No, no, no, no, no... ewww. No. I’m not dating him, he’s a stranger”

“A stranger you bring to a movie night with your best friends”

“It was either leave him the house or bring him with me”

“So he’s staying with you, like, staying staying?”

“Only for tonight. Shiro’s going to pick him up. I’m thinking of repainting the living room closer to its original colours, and I figured having a fresh set of photos would work”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

Pidge’s words went right over his head, before looping back and slapping him in the face. Pidge had had her feathers ruffled by Keith “taking” what would have been her “job”

“Because, my Pidgeon legged friend, you would start hunting for ghosts in my house, then try to steal Blue as you left”

“You’re dodging the question”

“I’m not dodging the question. I only asked him because he’s a professional. You’re still my number one tech guru. I’m sorry I’ve been sick and haven’t been able to hang out, but I’ve missed my gremlin. No one can replace my little anger muffin”

“You’re a wanker”

“So I’ve been told”

“Has your cold when passed? You still look pale”

“Yep. Clean bill of health from the doctor. Just the usual take it easy for the next few days, fluids, sleep, platonic dates with your best friends, the usual post cold instructions”

“I’m still shocked you’ve got Keith staying with you”

“I’m shocked too. But I keep telling myself it’s only for a few days and soon it’ll all be over”

“Dude, he was wearing your clothes”

“And?”

“Lance, you know I’d never judge you for your sexuality...”

Lance laughed, him and Keith simply too ridiculous to even go there

“It’s definitely not like that”

“Are you sure? I mean... I’ve never seen you like this...”

“What? Invaded by a photographer?”

“No, not like that... I mean... like, he’s wearing your clothes, staying at your house... it’s not like you”

“Keith didn’t have any clothes that weren’t a crime against fashion, or acceptable at a bar, which I totally thought we were going to, thanks to a certain someone. Nah, he’s just staying a couple of days then Shiro is going to pick him back up and that’s that”

“Something still feels off”

“Pidge, I promise I’m okay, and I promise Keith and I aren’t in some whirlwind romance, or whatever that brain of yours has thought up. I’m actually pretty sure he hates me, if that makes you feel any better”

“Nope. It just makes it weirder... Should we be worried that he hasn’t come back?”

“Nah, I’ll go see if I can find him. Dude’s got the social aptitude of a rockmelon. He probably peopled himself out and is having a sulk”

“If you say so. Now go away, I’ve already missed part of this riveting plot”

The plot wasn’t riveting. It was badly thought through and designed for the masses. Like most things...

Keith wasn’t in the cinemas entrance hall, nor the bathroom, Lance heading outside to search for him. Not at the front of the cinema, Lance was starting to get pretty annoyed with his missing idiot. The last place left to check was the parking lot, where he found said idiot cornered by three men. Great... just... great. He took his eyes off him for two minutes and he’d already wandered off into trouble. Walking over to stand just short of the three strangers, Lance eyes Keith who had his arms crossed, scowling at the group

“Heya, fellas. Something wrong here?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You know, just a concerned citizen. You’ve got my friend cornered, so if you could just see it in your hearts to let him go...”

Lance stepped back, escaping being hit in the face as the stranger bared his teeth. What the fuck?! Was Keith dense as fuck? Or did he think he had the skill to take on three idiots

“Your wallet or you life”

“Seeing you’re getting neither, I suggest you run along home”

“What did you say to me?!”

They hadn’t even had to go to bar to find trash. Lance sighed as he pulled out his phone

“Well, we are living in the age of technology. This miraculous little device lets me call the police when people like you start messing with people”

“You won’t get the chance”

“We’ll see”

Avoiding being attacked was laughable. His attackers had like zero grace, they must instead rely on numbers to look “intimidating”. Each swing that didn’t connect made them madder, their “leader” pulling out a small blade, as Lance danced around them. Putting the phone to his ear, he made as if he was calling the police and not his home phone

“I’m going to kill you...”

Raising his pointer to his lips, Lance hushed the man

“Didn’t anyone teach you its rude to interrupt someone on a phone call?”

If someone was watching, the would have found the way the three morons were falling over each other hilarious

“Yes, hi, I’d like to report an attempted robbery at the front of Platt Pictures. There’s three guys that have bailed up two men...”

Dropping down to dodge the punch thrown at his face, Lance swept the leg of the leader, snatching his blade out his hand as the man’s eyes widened for the millisecond as he fell

“Yep. There still here... I’ll wait. You guys should probably run if you’re going to. Cops are on their way”

The look in the leaders eyes was something feral, spitting like it made him cool, the man wiped his mouth

“I’ll get you for this”

“I’ll be waiting, but I won’t be holding my breath. Also, I’ll be keeping hold of this blade of yours. Evidence and all that. It’s amazing this fingerprint technology...”

“Forget it, lets scram!”

When the leaders two goons split, the man pushed himself up, running off like the coward he was. Lance giving them a little wave as they did. Ending the call to his house, Lance slipped his phone back in his pocket, before holding out the blade to Keith

“Here, a souvenir of our time together”

“I could have handled that”

Lance rolled his eyes

“Never said you couldn’t. Anyway, take it. You seem to like knives and I’ve got no use for it”

Keith frowned at the offered knife

“But the police...”

“Aren’t coming. Let’s just say I have a job where I need to keep my name squeaky clean”

“What the hell?!”

Lance sighed at Keith

“What? Do you want me to call them? I totally can, I remember all their facial features”

“You didn’t do me a favour...”

“Never said I did. Oh, you totally skipped out on movie night. Do I want to ask why you’re not inside pretending to be scared like everyone else”

“The movie was shit”

“Finally, something we can agree on. But, Hunk and Pidge are trying to be friendly with you, so leaving is kind of a dick move”

“They don’t even like me”

“They might if you’re not out here hiding. Also, Pidge thinks we’re dating, so come on darling, we’ve got a movie to finish”

Lance took Keith by the wrist. Socialising wasn’t about to kill him

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dragging Keith’s along, Lance spoke as they walked

“Well, that’s a long story. You see a long time ago a little boy was turned into a vampire. He grew up to become a lawyer, living as human like as he could, as he tried his hardest to give back to humanity so no other little kids got hurt. He never fed from a single person, took a lover, or like harmed any one more than what you just saw... You could say things were going well for him and he was happy. That was until two hunters crashed into his little corner of the world. He was forced to drink blood from an actual person for the first time in his life. Which upset him, because he felt he’d lost a little of the humanity he wanted. Now he’s trying his hardest for a stranger who wants him dead, and refuses to listen to him, because he’s some disgusting, revolting, beast that deserves that’s not even fit to be on the bottom of your shoe”

“That’s just it, why are you trying?”

“I don’t know, and that’s what’s getting under my skin”

Dragging Keith the whole back to their seats, they got there in time for the heroic ending where the main character saved the day. Hunk was sobbing, Pidge had gotten herself some skittles and was attempting to catch them in her mouth as she made a mess around her. Seeing they’d mostly missed the film, he and Keith remained standing there until the credits started and Pidge called “time to bail”. Ditching holding Keith’s wrist, because he’d honestly forgotten he had, Lance wrapped his arm around Hunk’s waist

“Good movie?”

“She was so brave...”

“I know, man”

Pidge cuddled up to his side until Lance looped his other arm around her

“What did you think?”

“It sucked. There were so many plot holes. I want my money back”

“Aw, never mind Pidgeon. It’s over now”

“That’s 133 minutes of my life I am never going to get back. You and Keith are arseholes. You missed most of the film!”

“Are we arseholes, or are you cranky we escaped?”

“You’re both definitely arseholes”

“Now, to be fair, Keith hit his people limit of the day. You’d never know, for all his conversational skills, but he’s a lot like you, Pidgeroonie. He gets very tired of people fast, and cannot do the brain without the coffee”

“That’s because people fucking suck!”

Pidge’s loudness caused the people walking near them to stare, staring was awkward forever one involved, Lance didn’t want the night to end awkwardly

“Okay, that’s enough exposure to the public for one night. Why don’t we grab something and head home? I’ll even pay”

“Yay! I want a super sized slushie. I should have thought of it sooner. I wonder if that slushie place with the weird flavours is still open”

Hunk groaned

“You’re making me do city driving?”

“Dude, relax. It’s night time, meaning there aren’t as many people on the road. Consider it practice for your date”

Hunk blushed, Lance laughing happily

“Don’t be mean to him, I’ll drive. Pidge, you’re in directions. Hunk, music, naturally, Keith, you get to sit in the back with Pidge and make sure she doesn’t get up too much mischief”

“What? Why?”

“Because I said so”

*

Keith opted to stay in the car and be a buzz killer as the three of them rushed to the slushie store. Minutes from closing, they were those annoying customers that all retail staff dread. Pidge was in heaven as she eyed the walls of flavour, Lance paying and limiting her to two without added energy drink. Hunk went for bubblegum flavour, Lance for strawberry. Keith hadn’t come in, but part of Lance didn’t want him feeling left out. With all the scowling faces Keith had pulled since they’d met, lemon was ruled out as a potential flavour, instead he went for iced coffee labeled as being lactose free. Keith might not be the nicest person in the world, but that didn’t mean Lance was going to be a douche over something Keith couldn’t control. He knew the man liked coffee, so it was the most logical choice. Pidge ended up unable to decide. One abomination made of orange, pineapple and mango, the second strawberry, bubblegum and coke. Making sure he’d left the woman behind the counter a very generous tip, Lance ushered Pidge and Hunk back to Hunk’s car, a little proud of himself when he got Keith’s door open with his foot in the door handle. Glaring up at him, Lance beamed in pride

“I got you one”

“I don’t need one”

“Yes, you did. It’s iced coffee, lactose free. Consider it an apology for venting on you earlier, if you need an excuse to take it”

Handing Keith the drink, Keith eyed it in suspicion

“Dude, it’s fine. Legit went from the machine to the cup then out to you. Pinky swear and all that. If you don’t want to drink it, I won’t get offended. I just thought it’d be nice to include you”

“Whatever. Thanks and stuff”

“You’re welcome. Let’s get you back home away from all these people so you can take a nap”

Keith’s expression soured, Lance was sure he was going to have the iced coffee slushy thrown at him, so shut the door quickly. Keith wouldn’t be a big enough douche to ruin Hunk’s interior. Hunk was a human, someone Keith was supposed to protect, meaning hurting his feelings had to go against whatever code hunters were bound to. Being caught up in everything going on, Matt came to his mind as Lance opened the driver’s door, his heart sinking. He hadn’t thought about Matt all night. Pidge had probably spent the whole night missing her brother and wishing it was him at the movies with them instead of Keith. He didn’t want to seem down, but it was hard to perk himself up now that he’d remembered he didn’t know how to act around Pidge. Climbing into Hunk’s car only made his heart ache more as Pidge and Hunk bickered over her flavour combinations. There was a code of privacy within VOLTRON, so he couldn’t enquire into Matt’s status. He couldn’t do anything to help Pidge with her Matt situation except for maybe confirm he was alive, which Shiro had already confirmed. Goddamn Shiro. He was ruining his night and the man wasn’t even here.

[ravn-87]

Ask submitted by: @sensual-red-siren

Hey beautiful! I would like for you to answer questions, 8, 16, 25 and 30 😘

I hate that Tumblr didn't tell me this was submitted. 🙄🙄 I'm sorry, I didn't see this sooner. 😚😅

--------------+-

8. How would you describe your fashion sense?

I'd happily wear him (James McAvoy),

him (Ludi Lin),

and him (Will Yun Lee). 😏😎😎🔥

😜😜 jk.

I'm really bad at knowing the exact names of the styles, all I can do is basically point, "ooooo"and grin (and envy 😅😅). But my Pinterest is loaded with things I like. And much of it for different reasons. Sometimes I'll save a pin simply because I like the just the fabric, or cut of the design while hating the pattern, or I like the color combination while hating the design altogether.

I do like comfortable, but modern, and tasteful - classy would be a perk. 😁✨ Me personally, I overheat easily which causes headaches that I've lived with all my life, even as a kid I was real sensitive to overheating and it would get me sick. So I like wearing layers. Lots and lots of layers - simply because you can mix and match and of course, shed!! 🥵

I also got into the whole layer accessorizing where you can wear removable sleeves, or leg warmers, or collars. So I've taken to liking open-back dress shirts, or razor back tank top under shirts, with layer shirts over it. I also like boat neck or off-shoulder tops. Not big on collared shirts personally, but if it's a nice style. I do love dresses, they are so comfortable, and some even surprisingly warm. Preferably with a fitted waist. I was never big on princess bell-skirt ball gown style, but more the elegant flowy thin skirt evening wear. But also - if I could dress like her: I'd be happy.

Also, if it were possible for me to pull these off in a cute way, that would be awesome:

I also have a thing for trench coats, simple light makeup, some awesome lip color, and alternative jewelry (ear climbers, piercings, arm cuffs, cute thin rings, gold tattoos, ).

16. Who is your favorite celebrity?

Gaw I have so many.

I looove Lin-Manuel Miranda - in how creative and intelligent he is but more importantly how kind and encouraging and warm and light-hearted he can be. I love his philanthropy and how he treats people. He never looks down on anybody and he's so playful. I think he's amazing!

James McAvoy - another sweet and intelligent guy with a sassy streak that's hilarious. Gosh I'd love to joke around with him for a while. He seems like a ton of boyish fun. He comes from humble background and never takes his fortunate life for granted. He's incredible.

Gal Gadot - she's so elegant and feminine and still an amazing actress. I love how she portrays classy personality and still such a kid herself. She's a cutie.

Mike Shinoda - I've admired him since I knew who Linkin Park was. Another self-made artist in my aspects, still supportive and makes it a point to connect to humanity and stays grounded, whether it's loyalty to his fans, his band's integrity all through their career, or pairing up his non-profit with other organizations to help hard hit societies. He's humble, he's energetic, he's deep, and power-driven without the ego. I hope his career spans more decades.

Bruce Lee & Jet Li - honor, discipline, respect, integrity. just amazing to admire and look up to as humans. Need I say more?

Noel Fisher - self-made actor, super driven, holds a philosophy I totally feel. I love his energy, I love his personality, and his Bad ass Mickey & Mikey send my spirits and heart soaring. I love who he is and how free-spirited he is and his dynamic acting skills. He reminds me a lot of James McAvoy in a few ways.

There are so many more, even ones who hold my greater admiration, but those are ones right off the top of my head.

25. DC or Marvel? I was a hardcore Batman girl as a kid (and guilty at the age of 8 - desperately wanted to be Catwoman, still want to be Michelle Pfeiffer because my gosh is she amazing, even today!), And I can't help but like men with deep dark streaks but heavily intense moral integrity. So I was more familiar with DC as a kid than I ever was with Marvel, although I wasn't too familiar with a lot of comics back then. But you have to admit, whoever is running the Marvel Hollywood franchise is A FREAKIN' GENIUS!!! They make it both super witty, and humorously sarcastic while still carrying the epic heaviness of a superhero persona in all of their movies. This freakin' franchise has literally held hollywood hostage with amazing captivation, I don't know how they do it, but they're phenomenal at it. But. Personally, even if the DC world isn't quite translating in the same fashion

....😅 I'm still a DC girl.

30. If you could go back in time, what would you do?

Exercise more. I mean seriously, I think that right there is the core bane to all of my other problems - not tending to my energy levels and keeping me active. I really needed to devote more time to that. I'm trying still....

My phone holds my attention hostage more than a lot though. I'm completely guilty about that. Not cool. I certainly know if I had exercised more, my life would be a whole lot different with probably a whole lot less headaches. I need more devotion to that than to anything else. I know it may sound shallow - but the manner in which I conduct my life, if I'm honest, comes down to the willpower in managing my daily habits and making much wiser and more disciplined decisions. I know I would have a lot less regrets in regard to opportunities I skipped out on because I wasn't feeling the best.

Daily habits. It's the daily habits that either rescue or kill us. :/

Also, I seriously wish I had this frame:

I admire athletic women.

Thank you for sending these! I had fun with them. 😁😁😁😘🍧

-------------

Per this ask post:

[1000roughdrafts]

Family Secrets: Chapter Twelve

A Danger to Ourselves and Others

Summary: Feeling like you now have it all, someone shows up to shake your world with new information about everything that’s going on. 

A/N: *insert something about how mobile sucks and I’m on mobile blah blah blah* 😉

Warnings: 18+ fluffy smut, vaginal penetration (sorry mom), fluff, but alas nothing good ever lasts, I’m so sorry (aka angst) also, spoilers for season 8, episode 7 are in this chapter :) 

W/C: almost 2.8k

Masterlist/summary

Previous Chapter

“What a waste of freakin’ time,” Dean groans before flashing a rigid smile at the waitress as she refills the coffee mugs. “Twenty-four freaking demons and not a damn clue about the keys.” 

“I wouldn’t say a waste of time, Dean,” you say sweetly as you pour creamer into your cup. “At the very least we took out twenty four demons and I’d say that’s worth something.” 

“I guess so,” he says in a grumpy pout. 

After stirring your coffee, you set the spoon on a napkin and lean your elbows onto the table. Wrapping your hands around the mug to collect it’s warmth, you look over at Dean, “so where do we go from here, then?” 

He heedlessly shrugs, “go to bed and start again tomorrow.” 

Sam moves his eyes across the table, his eyebrows turned down into deep thought. With the exception of a few sentences and his order, he’d been silent today. 

“What’s up with you, Sammy?” Dean leans in, “you look pissed,” he says. 

Sam looks between you and Dean, “how are you guys just fine with this?” He scoffs with a slight shake of his head and squints his eyes. 

Dean sips on his coffee, “whatcha mean?” 

“This whole not talking, or - or even remember each other for almost twenty years and then jumping into this weird obsession you have with each other. The visions, the - the alternate universe, all of it! I’ve never seen you like this before Dean, it’s like you’re turning into the same person, but becoming two different, and very strange people at the same time. 

With his scoffing and eye rolling, mumbling things under his breath the last two weeks, you’ve had enough. “We’re happy together, Sam. Why is that such a problem for you?” you shout just a tad too loudly for a diner. 

“It’s not a problem, Y/N. I do want my brother to be happy, believe me. I just,” he takes a sharp breath in. “I’m worried that this is not of your own accord, that this is leading to something dangerous,” he shakes his head, sitting up straight. “You said it yourself, Y/N, maybe something bigger is at play, something messing with us. I mean, you two hated each other just over a month ago, and now - now it’s like none of that ever even happened.” He shrugs, “I just think we need to be careful, that’s all.” 

“A lot has happened between then and now, Sam,” you say, “things have changed, feelings have changed, and I assure you Sam, that we all want the same thing.” 

“Sam, your concerns have been noted” Dean derisively smiles with a short nod, pulling a twenty from his wallet, he sets it in the center of the table. 

The hotel door creaks as you open it. You peer into the darkness as the glow of the television lights up the wall. The soft murmur of the actors voices in the background, combining with your chimerical steps into the room, gives you a sense of peace. Dean and you kick off your shoes before looking at each other. 

His eyes oscillate between yours to your lips before he smiles, taking one small step towards you. Feeling his hands soften around your face is enough to send an electric rush throughout your body. Your eyes fall shut as your body relaxes completely under his touch. 

His smile spreads while he watches the muscles in your face ease, and he admires your fastened smile, lazily bringing your face closer to his. He waits until the last second to close his eyes, as to not miss a single moment of your twitching and excited lips. 

You throw your hands onto his hips, leisurely massaging his sides and sliding your hands up to his shoulders. Shoving off his jacket in one fluid motion, you wait to hear it drop to the floor before bringing your hands back to the bottom of his shirt. He grunts softly, twirling you around and breaking the kiss to guide you to the bed, gently pushing you onto it. 

Without removing his eyes from yours, he peels off his shirt agonizingly slowly, tossing it behind him. He runs his thumb against your lips, holding your jaw in the palm of his hand before letting it slide down the side of your throat and onto your chest.

With the tips of his fingers, he pushes you onto your back before climbing over you. Kissing your body on his way to your lips, an icy hot sensation runs through your veins as you writhe beneath him. Your hands fly onto his back and up his shoulders before they fall to unbutton his jeans. 

Kneeling over you, with your legs between his, he pulls you up towards him, so you’re sitting on the bed. Putting his hands at the bottom of your shirt, he massages your stomach before pulling it over your head. 

With a smile, he allows you to fall back against the bed, kissing his way from your collarbone to your belly button. You’re no longer in control of your breathing, or thoughts for that matter. You’re not even sure who the thoughts are coming from, him or you, but for the first time you feel like you’re really on the same page. 

After shimmying your pants down, he keeps his eyes on you as he wraps his hands around your ankles and sending shivers up your legs. He slowly runs his hands up from your calves to your hips, causing your back to arch. His lips turn up into a half-smile watching you squirm under him. 

Growing tired of his teasing, you grip onto his face and yank it towards you, your lips pressing tightly against his. He sets his palm on your stomach, slowly bringing it to the top of your panties. Moving his hand in an up and down motion over your clit, a sound escapes you in a pant, and it thrills him to slip his fingers under the band, pulling them down your legs. 

He positions himself on top of you, pulling away from the kiss to gaze into your eyes. Speckled green dances in his eyes like stars on a clear night, and you nod. He enters slowly at first, inducing a gasp of pleasure from the both of you. Melodically and rhythmically, he pumps into you. He starts off slowly, taking his time to learn and enjoy your sweet spots.

When you let out a soft cry, he quickens his pace, and it doesn’t take long from that moment for you to climax, sending transcendent spasms throughout your body as you gasp out. His eyes stay planted on your face as he continues, and kisses you to conceal is moans when he peaks. He lies on top of you as you catch your breath. 

You lightly kiss his neck twice, tightening yourself around his dick. He inhales sharply, the breath coming out as an airy moan. Putting his hands on either side of you on the bed, he props himself up to admire you. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face. 

Putting your hand on his cheek, you let it glide down his chest and abdomen. He closes his eyes, lips opening slightly as he lifts himself out of you, letting out final whispers of pleasure. He kisses you once more on the cheek before falling onto the bed at your side. By the time his head hits the pillow, and arm wraps around you, you are sound asleep. 

Not sure of how much time had passed, you wake to a pounding at the door. Both of you jump out of bed, rushing to get clothes on. Standing behind Dean, he opens the door. A strange, scruffy man with ruffled hair and a dirty, torn up trench coat stands next to Sam. 

“Cas?” Dean asks, face fallen in surprise. 

The man in the trench coat sits leaning forward in the chair across from Sam with his arms resting on his knees, hands folded together. Dean leans against the wall, his arms crossed on his chest and a frown on his face. It’d been months, but you’ve seen that look before. You know exactly where his mind is at, and not just because you can read it, but you’ve been in the same position as Cas. 

Cas looks between the two of them, thoroughly examining their faces as if he’d never get the chance to again. 

Coming out of his mental abyss, Dean looks down at his feet, “yeah, uh,” he wipes the corner of his eye. “I gotta be honest. I-I-I’m thinking, how the hell did you make it out?” He’s speaking softly now, but scrunches his face to hold the anger back. “I mean, I was there. I-I-I know that place.” 

Cas nods somberly. Dean hasn’t talked much about his time in purgatory, but he didn’t need to. You’ve seen small glimpses of it in his dreams, the blood and gore, the way Dean wasn’t so much fearful of the monsters but afraid of what he was really capable of. They’d crept into your own, and you had no intention of bringing that up any time soon. 

“I know how we had to scratch, and claw, and kill, and bleed,” Dean closes his eyes with a small shake of his head, “to find that portal and make it through and it almost finished me.” 

Sam, with his concerned expression, glances from Dean to Cas, waiting for a response. Cas has a world behind his eyes, a world of hurt that he seems to be holding back. 

“So, uh...” Dean throws his arms into the air, “so, how exactly are you sitting here with us right now?” 

If looks could kill, he’d be a stew, you can’t help but think, a slight smile on your lips that’s only noticed by Dean. He glares in your direction, a silent warning to keep even your thoughts quiet. His eyebrows press down into a deeper frown as he puts his attention back on Cas. 

“Dean,” he sits up in the chair, “everything you’ve just said is completely true,” he pauses, holding his eyes to Dean’s, “and that’s the strange part,” he shakes his head. “I remember endlessly running and hiding from Leviathan, and then I was on the side of the road in Illinois, and...” he moves his eyes to the floor. 

“And that,” Dean starts, “that was it?” 

“Yes,” Cas says, and after a long pause, he sighs. As if reluctantly, he looks up at Dean, “there’s talk among the angels,” he says, eyes shifting over to you, “about you.” 

“What? Why?” Dean jumps in protectively. 

Cas sighs, “I don’t know, but they’re... very worried. They said I’m the only one to prevent you from making any mistakes.” 

“What kind of mistakes?” 

“I can’t say,” Cas admits, shaking his head. 

“What do you mean you can’t say, Cas? You can’t just bring something like that up, and not tell us what you’re talking about!” Sam butts in. 

Cas’ eyes soften, he switches his gaze between you and Dean before looking back at the carpet, “all I’m permitted to say is,” he looks down into his hands, “many eons ago, your souls were once one. That person was adamant about achieving the highest point of spiritual development, but there is a limit, an amount too great for a single human to possess. Upon your death, the soul was split in two. Dean, you have one half and Y/N has the other,” he says, looking up at Dean. His voice lowers, “your souls have been searching for each other ever since, and now that you’re reunited,” he sighs, “it has the potential to kill both of you, or others,” he says, eyes flitting up at Sam as if he’s the only one with a voice of reason, “many lives are at stake here,” he says, practically begging. 

“Okay,” you plop down onto the bed, and focus on the wall beside you, “why should be believe you?” 

His eyes meet yous, “when the two halves make union, they feel as though they’ve known each other their whole lives. They are in tune with each other, can read each other’s minds,” you and Dean share a wide eyed glance, “metaphorically speaking, of course,” Cas adds. 

You awkwardly chuckle, “metaphorically, right.” 

Cas presses his eyebrows down with a slight tilt of his head, “yes, metaphorically.” Standing, he continues, “the person you used to be was in search of answers to things that cannot be answered, and the angels feared that your union would lead to the search of those once again. They’ll be hunting for you,” he focuses his attention onto Dean, “and they won’t let anything get in their way, nor stop, until they find you.” 

“Why?” you ask in a shaky voice, fidgeting with your hands. He doesn’t answer, though he doesn’t need to. You feel it deep down, the ‘why’. It’s why all these people are after you, after Dean. It’s why they wanted the two of you to meet. There are no missing people, it was all just a ploy to get you two to come together. “Looks like you were right, Sam,” you say bitterly, tears in your eyes as you meet his sorrowful gaze.

The boys jump in with their ‘what ifs’ and ‘how abouts’, and you ignore everything, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind you. 

Dean, following quickly behind you, puts his hands on your arm, pulling you towards him to keep you from pacing. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” 

“’What’s wrong’, Dean?” you scoff, “did you go deaf? Were you listening to anything he said in there,” you bark. “All of it is wrong. This is just... the fate of the world is literally sitting in our hands, and that has ‘bad idea’ written all over it.” 

“This isn’t the first time Sam and I have dealt with something like this, and you know what? Everything turned out okay.” 

“No, you know what? Sam was exactly right,” you spit. “We’re just a danger to ourselves and others.” 

“No, come on. You don’t really believe all that, do you?” Both of his hands are on your arms now, forcing your body to face him. 

“Yes, and so do you, Dean, because deep down, you feel it,” you sigh, “you can’t keep things from me.” A tear slips down your cheek. 

“I don’t deny that,” he says, tightly turning the corner of his lips down. “But I’m also not gonna deny how I feel about you, Y/N. How I’ve never felt this way for another person before and you’re out of your freakin’ mind if you think we’re just gonna give this up because of a little bump in the road.” 

Pointing a finger at him, “and you’re out of yours if you think I’m putting lives at risk for love,” you tap a foot and fold your arms. 

“So, what? You’re just done with everything now?” 

You press your lips together, trying everything you can to keep the tears from coming down. A few slip by, and you quickly wipe them away with your fist, “I think so,” you say, without looking him in the eyes. 

“You’re just gonna leave all over again?” 

You nod, turning away. 

“Yeah, Y/N, just keep running from all of your problems, and expect them to solve on their own. News flash; they won’t,” he shouts. When you turn to face him, he points a finger at you, his face is pressed together. “Must be real nice to think ‘gee, this isn’t goin’ the way I want it to, better just give up!’ Well, that’s not how life works, sweetheart!” The veins in his neck protrude as he yells, “I would give anything to live a normal life, but I’m not the person to just give up when shit gets tough.” 

You step towards him, “don’t you dare come at me like you’re mister ‘never have I ever had a weak moment’. I’m not giving up, I’m not running away. I’m trying to make a decision, a difficult decision, that will save lives, not take them.” 

“So this is it, then?” he says, eyes full of defeat. 

You give a small nod, and he rolls his eyes, pushing open the door of the room while keeping his squinted eyes on you. “Sam. Get Y/N’s bag, she’s leaving.” 

Coming to the door, Sam’s face drops and his eyes widen, “what? Y/N, why?” 

“It’s final, Sam, her mind is made up,” he says, glaring at you before pushing himself through Cas and Sam to walk back into the room. 

You feel a pang in your chest watching him walking away. 

“You can’t just leave, Y/N,” Sam begs. 

“I can, and I’m going to. It’s for the best.” 

Cas rests a hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam looks up at him as he nods, “she’s right,” Cas looks back at you, “you’re making the right decision, Y/N.” 

Next Chapter

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[just-jordie-things]

Menace - Peter Parker

word count: 7939 warnings: swearing, attempted assault summary: (y/n) develops a bit of a crush on Spider-Man, and Peter Parker develops a bit of a crush on (y/n) (a/n): can we pretend mysterio didn’t drop peter parker’s name in FFH? ok cool thanks

Breaking News: Not-So-Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man?

Spider-Man vs… New York City?

The Next Tony Stark - He’s Not The Hero You Think

SPIDER-MENACE

(y/n) threw the papers down on the table angrily.

“This is bullshit!”

“(y/n)! Language at the table, please?” Her mother sighed, a bit disappointed but not surprised.  “What’s wrong now dear?”

“These papers, they’ve got it all wrong!” She exclaimed, earning a very tired, and very confused look from her mother.  “They’re saying that-that Spider-Man’s a bad guy, that he does more bad than good in this city and it’s just bullsh- crap.  It’s crap, sorry”

“If you hate it so much, why don’t you become a reporter? Hm?”

(y/n) glared playfully at her mother.

“And be corrupt with the rest of them?” She sneered.

“Alright, easy there tiger.  Drop the papers, get up and get ready for school”

And (y/n) did follow the instruction, but she didn’t forget about the lies in the news. ___

Peter was stopped on his walk to school, his eyes catching the newspaper stand just a block away from it.

He groaned internally as he flipped through the incredibly exaggerated article about how Spider-Man is ruining Queens, and that he should “give up his day job”.  Peter of course knew that this shouldn’t change anything for him, that he should remain doing his patrols and keeping the city safe, even if they didn’t appreciate his help.

But seeing this headlines every day was starting to get him down on himself.  There had been some destruction, and some innocent people had gotten hurt, but he was trying his best to do what he can to protect them.

There’s always going to be haters, Peter told himself, something Happy had told him a year ago.  As long as you don’t give in to them, they can’t bring you down.

Happy wasn’t great with advice.  Unless it involved using lines from Christina Aguilera songs. ___

“Dude, have you been on the Snapchat News page lately?” Ned said as soon as he saw Peter that morning.

“Good morning to you too” Peter mumbled back, too busy with putting his things away in his locker.

“Everyone hates Spider-Man now!” Ned exclaimed, and Peter whirled around, shushing him harshly.  Last thing he needed was for everyone who hated Spider-Man to know the identity under the mask and hate him too.  “It’s crazy, ever since Mysterio- Beck- posted that fake video about you executing the drone attack, people have been going nuts about how terrible Spider-Man is!” Ned said quieter.

Peter shut is locker and hit his head against it.

“I hate my life” He grumbled.

Ned pulled him back by his shoulder and they walked together to their first period class.  

“Not everyone hates Spider-Man, it’s just a hot topic right now, you know?” Ned said quickly, feeling bad for crushing Peter’s spirits.  “I don’t, May doesn’t-”

“That doesn’t count, you’re my family, you have to say that,” Peter whined.  “I just… wish people looked at the whole story, yaknow? I’m trying my best”

Ned smiled and nodded, knowing fully well that Peter puts his all into being Spider-Man.

-

“And now even the Post, the freaking Post is trashing on him-”

“(y/n), babe,” Michelle cut her friend off from her seemingly endless rant.  “I love you, most of the time.  This is not one of those times”

(y/n) rolled her eyes but chuckled, going back to eating her lunch.  Okay, so maybe she got a bit carried away with her anger towards the recent headlines regarding Spider-Man.

“If I have to hear one more word about you thirsting over Spider-Man, I’m gonna lose it” MJ went on.

“Okay okay, I get it,” (y/n) laughed.  “But I’m not thirsting, I’m just… upset for him.  He’s a hero, you know? He deserves the same amount of respect and understanding as anyone else-”

“You’re doing it again” MJ monotoned, and gave her a bored glare.

MJ happened to know that Peter Parker, who was sitting at a table away from them, was the man under the mask.  She felt for Peter because of the heat he was under with the press, but the way she saw it was that he knew the truth.  And as long as he knows he’s a good guy, then who cares what the papers say?

“Sorry,” (y/n) said sheepishly.

“Babe,” MJ sighed, she only used that nickname ironically.  “You know some people right now are really against Spider-Man? Just cause the papers told them that they should be?”

“That’s not true!” A guy at a table behind them spoke up, having heard MJ’s statement.  MJ rolled her eyes, but (y/n) furrowed her brows and waited for him to continue.  “He really is a bad guy! All these ‘problems’ he tries to solve, just causes more problems!”

(y/n) narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

“Actually… no” She stated, but the guy started talking again anyways.

“You know he initiated that attack at the senior trip to Europe?” He went on.  “And all that construction they’re doing downtown? Why do you think that is?” He asked aggressively.  “Because of all the destruction that he’s caused, the useless fighting-”

“Okay, stop,” (y/n) spoke up now, unable to listen to the crap he was spilling.  “Do you realize that if he wasn’t out there ‘uselessly fighting’ as you so stupidly put it, that the crime in Queens would increase by tenfold? Hm?” She raised her brows almost threateningly as she stared down the boy.

MJ chuckled and went back to her food, enjoying the entertainment her friend was providing her.  She has definitely taught her how to debate.

“And I have this theory that Mysterio was actually the one behind-”

“You just think he’s cute,” The boy rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand, as though telling her she could stop trying to argue with him.  “You don’t give a shit about Spider-Man”

With that, he turned around in his seat and gave up talking to her.

(y/n) gaped, staring at MJ with wide eyes, silently screaming about how ridiculous that was.

“I swear to fucking-”

She didn’t even finish her curse before abruptly standing up from her seat, and shoving it in under the table.  The slam was loud and echoed across the cafeteria, gaining more attention.

“(y/n)?” Michelle said under her breath, watching as (y/n) grabbed a fistful of mashed potatoes with her bare hands, along with a carton of milk.  “Woah hey what the hell are you-”

But (y/n) had already stormed over to the other table, where the boy she’d just argued with was now snickering with his friends.

“Hey!” She shouted.

More heads turned to see what was going on.

And just as he looked over to her, he was met with a  hand to the face as she smashed the potatoes against him.

“Fuck you, you ignorant prick!” She hollered.

An echo of ohs surrounded the cafeteria, everyone now watching the scene unfold.

MJ laughed and clapped her hands.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” The boy stood up from his chair, wiping the food off his face as he grimaced at her.

(y/n) opened her carton of milk, and promptly dumped it on his head.

She never got the chance to say anything before the cafeteria monitors dragged her off to the principal’s office.  But she didn’t have anything else to say.

Even though she was forced to the office, MJ clapped and cheered the whole time she was escorted out of the cafeteria. ___

“You know he initiated that attack at the senior trip to Europe?”

Brian Miller’s voice was a pest in Peter’s head.

“Great, now really everyone’s talking about it” He grumbled, stabbing at his food angrily.

“Come on, Brian’s a dick, don’t listen to him” Ned said reassuringly.  He was right, Brian ‘Miller Light’ was known for being a Grade A Tool™ .  And Peter knew that he shouldn’t get upset over what someone like Brian thinks.

“Do you realize that if he wasn’t out there ‘uselessly fighting’ as you so stupidly put it, that the crime in Queens would increase by tenfold? Hm?”

He did however, perk up at that.

Literally, Peter sat up in his seat and swiveled his head around to see (y/n) (y/l/n), one of MJ’s friends, standing up against lame-ass-Brian.

A smile pulled on his face as he listened to her fight for Spider-Man.

“Hey, hey,” Ned blindly motioned his arm towards Ned to get him to listen to what was going on as well.  “Did you hear that?”

Ned looked over to watch the argument, and chuckled when Brian called her out for having a crush on him.

“Did you hear that?” Ned shot back at Peter.  “You’ve got a real admirer- holy shit is she-?”

“Did she just pick up-?”

“Ohmygod Peter she’s gonna start a freakin- food fight-!”

The boys could barely finish their thoughts, eyes trained on the scene as (y/n) stormed over to Brian, shouting right in his face, and then hitting him full force with the potatoes.

“Holy shit!” Peter shouted, hands flying to his head in surprise.

Sure, he knew people still believe in Spider-Man, but not that much.

“Dude the monitor’s coming over, she’s so getting detention for that!” Ned was excitedly shaking Peter by his shoulder, which only got rougher when they watched (y/n) dump milk over Brian’s head.  “Dude!”

Ned and Peter weren’t the only ones watching her outburst, practically the whole cafeteria was fixated on seeing what was going to happen next.

But nothing did happen.

She dropped the milk, and shortly after was grabbed by the arms and taken out of the cafeteria, likely to go straight to the principal’s office.

As soon as she was gone, the room was buzzing excitedly about the spectacle.

“I can’t believe… I can’t believe that just happened,” Peter said, turning to sit in his seat normally, facing Ned, a shocked expression on his face.  “She just did all that… for me”

“I know right! Wow, she’s so crazy, that was so cool” Ned gushed, shaking his head and grinning wildly.

“But like… why would she go through all the trouble for me? She doesn’t even know who I- who Spider-Man is” Peter continued rambling confusedly.

“Hey, losers,” MJ set her tray down next to Peter and invited herself to finish her lunch with them.  “You guys talking about (y/n)?”

“Yeah.  Peter’s losing it” Ned replied, making MJ chuckle.

“I’m not losing it… I just… didn’t know she cared so much about Spider-Man” He shrugged lamely.

“Seriously?” MJ groaned.  “She spent all day complaining about the papers, in fact, she’s spent the last few months complaining about it.  She’s like your biggest advocate”

“Really?” Peter asked quietly, eyes wide.

“Oh yeah,” MJ answered.  “Really, she loves him”

“Really?” He repeated.

“Well she wouldn’t go getting a detention over anyone” MJ rolled her eyes, so beyond done with this conversation.

But now Peter was running on overdrive, and all he could think about was how (y/n) had gotten a detention for him.

He purposefully lagged in the halls so that he was late to his next class, winding himself a detention after school. ___

While she didn’t want an after school detention, (y/n) did not regret any of her actions.

But maybe she did a little bit when she walked into the classroom that detention was held in.

Luckily she recognized a familiar mess of brown curls, and sat down next to him.

“What did Peter Parker do to get himself a detention?” She grinned over at him, and he (all too excitedly) turned to her.

“I-I was late to Spanish,” He told her sheepishly, and (y/n) giggled a little bit, nodding her head in understanding.  “We can’t all be as badass as you, I guess”

She laughed louder at that, earning a glare from the detention monitor.

“Quiet”

(y/n) and Peter shared an awkward smile, and then she pulled a book out of her backpack to keep her occupied for the rest of the hour.

But Peter didn’t want her to not talk to him the rest of the hour, he’d landed himself a detention just so that he could talk to her for Christ’s sake.

So he did the next best thing to talking.

He wrote a note, folded it up, and flicked it over to (y/n’s) desk.

She looked over to him and quirked a brow, but unfolded it.

I’m really bored

(y/n) stifled a giggle and pulled out a pen, writing back to him.

It’s literally been a minute

And that’s how it started.

The two spent an entire hour passing notes back and forth.  They talked about everything, class, friends, gossip, but most importantly, Spider-Man.

(y/n) had written half a page worth of why she thinks the press is the real bad guy, and how much it bothered her that they were tearing down Spider-Man.  MJ had been right, she was Spider-Man’s biggest advocate.

By the end of the detention, they’d swapped phone numbers and Snapchats.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” He’d asked nervously when they walked out of the school.

“It’s only four o’clock Peter, I don’t think I’ll be mugged between now and three blocks away,” (y/n) said with a big smile, enjoying the pink blush that dusted his cheeks.  “But thank you though”

“Y-yeah, yeah.  So I’ll… see you later then” He waved awkwardly and she nodded.

“See ya Peter!” She called, walking in the opposite direction to her own place.

And the more she walked, the more she thought of him.  She’d always known Peter, he was one of MJ’s friends so they had a mutual connection, but they’d never been around each other like that before.  She didn’t know he was so…

adorable. ___

Peter was doing a late night patrol a few days later.  There wasn’t much going on, but you can never be too safe.  Besides, he enjoyed the breeze has he swung alley through alley.  The later he got, the less he expected to see.

However, he didn’t expect to see (y/n) herself, wandering down the sidewalk with her backpack on and a plastic bag in her hands.

“Karen, what time is it?” Peter called out to the AI.

“12:06, Peter” Karen responded instantaneously.

“What the hell is she doing out so late?”

And before he could think it through, he swung down to the street, and tapped her on the shoulder.

He really should’ve thought it through, because she screamed and spun around, about to punch him in the face when she saw who it was.

“Oh my god, Spider-Man” She breathed out in surprise, eyes blown wide and she almost had a panic attack right there.

“Yeah, uh, it’s me,” He did jazz hands.

Stupid stupid stupid why did I do that?

“What’re you doing out so late?” He asked, and (y/n) held up her grocery bag.

“Late night snack run?” She said weakly, a nervous look on her face.  “I’m kind of binging a show right now and uh… ran out of goods”

Spider-Man laughed, and she found herself relieved at the simple reaction.

“Alright, that’s fair.  Not as sketchy as it looked”

“As it looked?” She repeated, “What, are you following me?”

“N-no!” He stammered out quickly.  “Of course not I-I just saw you walking by yourself in the middle of the night, and I try my best but that doesn’t mean Queens is the safest place in the world” She laughed at his rambling and nodded.

“Okay, seems fair,” She said amusingly.  “Not as sketchy as you sounded” She teased him by mocking him.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked, and she didn’t answer right away, a strange feeling of deja vu coming over her, before he spoke again.  “It’d make me feel better if you let me”

(y/n) nodded, a soft smile tugging on her lips as they began to walk together.

“You think I would’ve gotten mugged?” She asked.

“I don’t know what answer you want to hear, so let’s just say you definitely won’t now” Spider-Man answered.

“Not being mugged tonight sounds good to me,” (y/n) said.  “Hey, can I ask you something? I want to win an argument against my friend, and also be able to brag that Spider-Man walked me home… do you think that I would be jumped at say… four o’clock?”

Peter was smiling so hard under his mask, his cheeks hurt a little.

“Well, that depends where you’re walking,” He explained, and went on to label all the streets he had the most trouble with.  None of which were the ones she passed on her way home.  “Is that good enough to brag to your… friend?”

“Honestly, this whole night is good enough,” (y/n) said almost bashfully.  “That’s my complex right there” She pointed just up the street to where she lived.

“Good, I can proudly say I got the damsel home safe” Spider-Man said, and they both laughed a bit.

“A damsel huh? I was walking home from 7-Eleven” She argued, and stopped at the steps to her apartment complex.

“Who knows what could’ve happened if I wasn’t there to escort you?”

“Mhm,” She hummed, awkwardly standing at the entrance, and not wanting to go inside just yet.  “Hey, uh, before you swing off I should tell you… uh... I just wanted to say that I think what the press has been really harsh,” She said sweetly.  “I know that kind of thing probably doesn’t bother you, but it shouldn’t, cause, yaknow, you’re a hero and all that”

She was mentally kicking herself for getting so flustered.

Spider-Man nodded in response, having a hard time finding the right words.

“Thank you, (y/n), that really means a lot,” He told her.  “It was nice meeting you, but try not to wander around Queens so late, alright? That’s how accidents happen!”

And suddenly he was swinging off, and out of sight.

Leaving (y/n) to wonder how he knew her name if she’d never told him.

When she finally made it back to her room, she put her binging on pause to make a very important call.

“MJ, I have to tell you the craziest thing” ___

“Peter Parker, you’re the biggest idiot to ever live,” MJ smacked Peter as soon as she saw him the next day in class.  He rubbed the back of his head while she went on.  “(y/n) told me all about her cute little encounter with Spider-Man”

“She did?” He asked hopefully, an adorable smile on his face.

“She sure did.  Especially the part where he knew her name” She stated, and suddenly Peter’s heart wasn’t fluttering, but was dropping to his stomach.

“She did?” He asked again, much less happy.

“Uh huh.  Hope you can figure that shit out Parker, before she puts two and two together and realized how Spider-Man knows her name”

Peter nodded rapidly, and began to come up with a plan. ___

MJ agreed to convince (y/n) to join Peter and Ned at lunch that day, and (y/n) had happily agreed.

That was about as much of a plan as he came up with.

“Trying for another detention today?” MJ asked when (y/n) had sat with them.  (y/n) rolled her eyes but smiled playfully at her friend.

“No,” She answered.  “I’m minding my business from now on” She shrugged.

“Detention was that bad?” Ned asked.

“No, Peter was there, so at least I wasn’t stuck there alone,” She smiled sweetly at the boy, who ducked his head to hide his blush.  “But it’s not like I want to go back either”

“Mhm I’m sure your new boyfriend Spider-Man wouldn’t appreciate you being such a rebel” MJ teased.  (y/n) scoffed out a laugh, but there was no hiding her blush.

“Boyfriend?” Ned repeated, kicking Peter under the table.  But (y/n) shook her head dismissively.

“She’s just messing around,” She mumbled, embarrassed.  “She’s been doing it all morning”

“Well, when Spider-Man himself walks you home in the middle of the night…” MJ trails off.

Ned already knew the whole story, because Peter had called him at one in the morning to excitedly ramble about how he got to take (y/n) home.  But, he played along anyways.

“He what? Why didn’t you tell us right away!” Ned said excitedly, urging her to tell the whole story.  (y/n) was smiling adorably and blushing, twirling her fork around her food as she shyly but happily told him about it.

Peter could feel his face getting hot as she was gushing about how kind and funny and awkward Spider-Man was.  Her cheeks were pink and her smile didn’t leave her lips the whole time she spoke.  It was really cute, actually.

“Sounds like Spider-Man has a crush on you, babe,” MJ said, raising her eyebrows towards (y/n), who immediately began to fluster at the statement.  “He walks you home, knows your name”

The girl sent a wink and a smirk in Peter’s direction that luckily went unnoticed by (y/n).

“Yeah, that was so strange,” (y/n) commented, her focus shifting to the one off part about her night.  “I could’ve sworn that I hadn’t told him my name, but who knows, I was so frazzled by actually meeting Spider-Man himself, maybe it just slipped my mind” She shrugged, and took a drink of her juice.

“Or maybe Spider-Man often escorts young women on the streets late at night, and he knows them all by name” MJ suggested with a mischievous smile.  Peter scowled at her, but (y/n) shrugged again.

“I dunno, maybe…” She thought about it, but shook her head.  “But he didn’t seem like that.  He was… different”

“I’m not like other Avengers” Ned teased, earning a laugh from the group.

“Really though,” (y/n) giggled.  “He was normal, like it could be anyone under the mask, you know?”

She looked to Peter with an excited sparkle in her eye, and he couldn’t help but nod along in agreement.  He was glad that she’d sat at his table today so he could hear last night’s events in her point of view.

“And oh my god, I almost forgot,” (y/n) grinned and leaned over the table slightly towards Peter.  “Spider-Man told me the streets I walk to get home don’t have that much crime happen on them, and I don’t need to be walked home from school”

He knew this, of course, he’d been the one who’d told her.  But he played along anyways.

The blush was authentic, however.

“W-well okay then s-sorry for trying to do the respectful thing” He teased, and she laughed with him, squeezing his arm playfully before going back into conversation with MJ. ___

Coincidentally that night, Peter saw (y/n) sitting on the fire escape while he was doing his nightly patrol.

He eagerly swung over to her, feeling giddy when she bit her lip to keep from grinning at him when he landed on the railing.

“Stalking me now, Spidey?” She asked, but he wasn’t fooled by the bold and flirtatious words, able to see the blush on her cheeks.

“Maybe I am,” He said, and she smiled at him from where she sat with her back leaning against the rails.  “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” She giggled and nodded at him.  “That’s alright”

It was quiet for a moment as she pulled her knees to her chest to preserve some warmth.

“So, are you… working right now?” She asked, and he shook his head, sitting across from her and leaning against the opposite rails.

“Nope, just wrapped it up,” He told her.  “I was gonna head home but I saw you sitting out here so… I thought I’d stop by”

“That’s cute,” She smiled at him, and suddenly the suit felt very hot.  “My friends now have an ongoing theory that you escort a lot of… damsels…”

“You told your friends about me?” He asked coyly, but (y/n) just chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“Of course I did, you’re Spider-Man? I had something to brag about?” She reminded him, and he waved a dismissive hand.

“Sure, sure, I’m sure that’s it,” He said.  “You’re sure you don’t just think I’m cute?”

And there it was again, that feeling, like a lightbulb going off in her mind.

“You just think he’s cute, you don’t give a shit about Spider-Man” Brian Miller’s words replayed in her mind, and she froze up for a moment as she looked at the masked hero across from her curiously.

“Hm,” She hummed, tilting her head to the side as though it would help her identify why this feeling hit her like a tidal wave.  Did he see her cafeteria meltdown? Does the man under the mask go to Midtown?

Does she know Spider-Man?

… does Spider-Man know her?

“What?” He asked, drawing her from her wild running mind.  “What was that judgemental hum for?”

“Judgemental?” She questioned.  “It wasn’t judgemental”

“Sure sounded judgemental” He mumbled, kicking one leg out and propping the other knee up.

“There’s just something… it’s dumb” She bashfully shook her head and looked away, deciding against telling him about the gut feeling she’d gotten twice now.

“What is it?” He asked her, but she shook her head again, too embarrassed by it.  “Oh come on, tell me,” He put his hands together pleadingly.  “Who else am I gonna tell, huh?”

She looked at him skeptically, still unsure if she should tell him.

But she knew deep down she was going to give in anyways.

“There’s something very familiar about you” She admitted softly.

Peter thought he was having a stroke.

“You did meet me last night” He told her, only half joking.  She shrugged, looking away for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts.

“More than that,” She finally spoke again.  “Like I… like I know you”

“You do know me” He answered, and she giggled at his awkwardness.

“Calm down Spidey, I don’t know your secret identity.  Don’t get your onesie in a twist” She teased him, and he hit his head back against the rails of the fire escape with a defeated sign.

“It’s not a onesie,” He groaned, making her laugh.  “The mask is seperate” He added in a quieter voice, and she only laughed more.

“I’d like you if I met you” She told him boldly.

“Y-you would?”

“Mhm,” She nodded, pulling her legs closer to her chest and propping her chin on top of her arms.  “Absolutely” She said in a quieter voice.

She could tell he was smiling under his mask.

“I’m not so sure…”

“Why not?”

“I’m….” Spider-Man trailed off.  Peter, if you tell this girl that you’re a loser, then I’ll hate you forever, he thought to himself.  “I’m not like this in real life, like at all”

“What do you mean?” She asked.  “You’re not nerdy and anxious all the time for no reason?”

Okay, so maybe I am like this in real life.

“Fair point, because yeah,” He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.  “But still I’m not like… I don’t know let’s just say we wouldn’t run in the same crowds”

“What crowd do you think I run in, Spider-Man?” (y/n) asked, curious to see what he thought of her.

“Cool edgy kids” He answered pretty much right away, and she laughed, knowing he’d gotten MJ spot again.

“I wouldn’t say cool” She said quietly, eyes downcast shyly.

“Really? But you’re the coolest” He argued, and she giggled like a little girl, a hand covering her mouth to stop the ridiculous sound.

“Cut it out” She said quietly, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering around the more he spoke.

“Oh come on, there’s no way you aren’t like… the most popular person.  You’re that girl, like from the movies” He went on, and (y/n) covered her face with both hands, cheeks rosy and the giggles came back.

Peter loved this reaction.

“You’re adorable” He told her, only making it worse.

“Okay okay, enough about me,” She ran her hands through her hair, and tried to collect herself.  “What crowd do you run with then?”

“I… I don’t know what you’d call it” He said sheepishly.

“Try,” She shrugged.  “I’m just curious to know more about you, Spider-Man”

“Okay then I’d say I run with the… outcast nerd crowd” He answered honestly, but (y/n) scrunched up her nose and shook her head in disbelief.

“Not with those muscles you don’t” She pointed out matter-of-factly.  Spider-Man genuinely laughed at that.

It was quiet between them for a few moments, before (y/n) sighed, and stood up to stretch.

“It’s late,” She said softly, sadly.  “I should get to bed” “Yeah, I should be going” The masked hero agreed, and stood up as well.

She gave him a gentle wave before sliding open her window to crawl back into her room.  But before he could leave, she leaned back out of it.

“Spider-Man?” She called.

“Yeah?”

“Am I… am I going to see you again?” She asked hopefully.

He was grinning as he leapt up onto the rail, going into a crouching position as he looked back at her.

“Maybe if you’re out here again, around this time…” He trailed off suggestively, and (y/n) grinned at him, nodding in agreement.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” She mused, fingers tapping against her windowsill with excitement for tomorrow night.  “Goodnight”

“Goodnight, (y/n)” He said softly, waving slightly as she shut her window, before he left her fire escape.

Fuck, he thought, I really like this girl. ___

(y/n) took a long drink of her coffee before setting it on a shelf in her locker to collect her books for the day.  After the night she’d had, she wasn’t able to get much sleep, her giddiness to see Spider-Man again tonight kept her mind buzzing and toes wiggling seemingly all night long.

A few rows down, the familiar sound of a hand hitting the wall of lockers hard echoed.  She glanced over briefly to see MJ interrogating Peter.

Zipping up her bag and grabbing her styrofoam cup of coffee, she headed down to meet up with her friends, and see what was going on.

“Morning guys,” She greeted, barely able to get the words out without yawning.  “What’s all the commotion about?”

“N-nothing, no commotion” Peter told her in his usual awkward way of speaking.  She smiled gently at him before turning to MJ.

“Why’re you pickin’ on Peter, MJ?” She asked with a sign, knowing that she was teasing him about something.

MJ turned to Peter with raised brows for a moment, then promptly looked at (y/n) with a shit eating grin.

“Parker told me if I did the Calc homework, he’d do the AP Chem homework and we could trade,” She lied effortlessly.  “And now, he’s not pulling through with his end of the deal”

(y/n’s) eyes flickered over to Peter, as though asking if this was true, and the boy shakily nodded.

“You can just have mine,” (y/n) said with a shrug, handing her coffee to Peter as she took her backpack off to pull out her AP Chem binder.  “Here,” She handed the homework to MJ, and put her bag back on, taking her coffee back from Peter with a sweet smile.  “Problem solved?”

“Yep, thanks babe” MJ said before turning around and leaving the two in the hall.

“You alright?” (y/n) asked Peter, a concerned crease between her brows.  “I’ve never known Peter Parker to forget to do homework”

“Y-yeah,” He stammered out.  “I’m good, it just slipped my mind, must’ve been too busy last night or something”

“Oh? Hit a lot of crazy parties?” (y/n) teased, smiling playfully at him.  He chuckled, shaking his head and gripping the straps of his backpack tightly.

“Sure, let’s go with that”

She giggled before jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

“I should get going…” She said hesitantly.

Although she found herself just wanting to be around him some more, just to talk for a few more minutes.

He nodded, and she turned to head off to class.

“Oh, hey, (y/n/n)?”

She looked over her shoulder as he called out her nickname, one that usually only MJ used, when she wasn’t calling her babe.

“Uh… thanks, f-for covering for me” He said nervously.

She grinned and nodded at him.

“Yeah, no problem, Pete” She replied, and then left for class. ___

“I know, I know,” Peter threw his hands up defensively as MJ sat across from him at the lunch table.  “I’m a dumbass”

Last night, Peter started a groupchat with both Ned and MJ, so he could tell them both all about his time with (y/n).  Ned cheered him on and encouraged him to go see her again tonight, while MJ tended to-

She smacked his arm.

She tended to do that.

“You really are,” She grumbled in agreement, looking over her shoulder to see (y/n) had just walked into the cafeteria.  “(y/n/n’s) coming in, but we’re talking about this later Peter, because you’re about to mess up a whole lot of shit with how reckless you’re acting”

Peter nodded, fiddling with his hands.  He knew she was right, he knew that there were only two ways that this would end.

One, he falls more and more for (y/n), and continues to see her as Spider-Man, which only puts her in jeopardy of bad guys tracking her down and god-knows-what happens, winding up hurting the both of them.

Or two, she finds out that the Spider-Man that she has heart eyes for, is boring old Peter Parker, and she never wants anything to do with him again, which also gets them both hurt.

He couldn’t think of a long term solution that worked out.

“Oh look, it’s the spider’s advocate!” Brian Miller laughed and pointed at (y/n) passed his table.  She flipped him off and kept walking, but apparently Brian wanted more attention than that.  “Always so classy (y/n).  What, nothing to throw at me today? Or have you decided to grow up?”

“Go fuck yourself, Miller Lite” She bit back at him, poison laced in her words.

Peter, Ned, and MJ were all watching as Brian and his friends teased her as she passed their table, but thankfully she kept walking, knowing better than to escalate the situation.

“I’d rather you do it” Brian said, getting up from his seat and reaching out towards her, snatching her wrist so she’d stop walking away, and face him.  The other boys at his table oohed and ahhed like a bunch of idiots.

“Oh shit,” Ned coughed, and moved his head to the side to see (y/n) and Brian better.  “Peter are you- Peter?”

Peter had already gotten up from his seat and walked right over to the two, forcing Brian’s hand off of (y/n’s) arm and shoving himself in front of her.

Ned and MJ shared a shocked look, before looking back at the two.

“Sit back down, Brian” Peter said.

“Or what Parker, are you gonna hit me?” Brian stepped closer to him, but Peter put a strong hand on his shoulder, and forced him down into his seat.

Brian was taken aback with the immense ease Peter Parker had just used to put him back in his seat.  His wide eyes went from his hand, up to his face.

“If you get up from this seat, then I’ll hit you” He said seriously.

Brian didn’t say anything, just swallowed thickly and nodded his head, avoiding the weird looks from his friends.

Peter turned back to (y/n), hand on the small of her back as he walked her over to their table.  She seemed just as lost as Brian had, looking from Peter, to Brian who actually looked scared, and back to Peter again.

“W-what was that?” She asked him in a hushed voice.  He looked down at her, and then straightforward.

“He was being a dick” He answered.

(y/n) gaped like a fish out of water, shutting her mouth after realizing she had no idea what to say to him.  There was nothing to say.

“Thank you” She whispered instead, almost shyly.  Peter nodded at her.

Nobody talked about it for the rest of the lunch period, much to (y/n’s) relief.  However, she kept finding herself staring at Peter, until he’d catch her and she’d look away, only to look back again a few moments later.

She didn’t realize it, but the lightbulb feeling of deja vu went off again. ___

That night, Peter stalled on his trip to (y/n’s) after he finished patrol.

Realistically, he should end this now before it can really get out of hand.  Lying wasn’t one of his strong suits, especially when it came to people he cared about.  And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt (y/n).

But he really liked her, and he really wanted to see her.  And she liked Spider-Man, not Peter Parker, so this was his only chance to be with her.

About a block away from her complex, he stopped, and crouched on the roof of an insurance firm.

Pulling his mask off, he took a deep breath, and tried to gather his thoughts.

“Why did I get myself into this why would I torture myself like this?” He mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair before looking down at his mask.

He messed with the material all the while thinking of his situation with (y/n).  Just as he was about to pull his mask on and swing over to her place, to tell her that he can’t come by and see her anymore, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Something was wrong.

On instinct, he looked down to the ground, seeing a girl walking along the sidewalk, rather quickly.  And the bulky figure of a man following close behind her.

Peter pulled his mask over his head, alerting the AI to zoom in.

“It’s (y/n) (y/l/n), Peter” Karen told him.

He couldn’t believe it.

But sure enough, it was her.  She looked nervous, and hurried.  She knew that she was being followed.

“Who is that following her?” He asked, turning to focus on the man stalking after (y/n).

“Brian Miller, age seventeen”

(y/n) looked over her shoulder, seeing the man still following her, and she picked up her pace even more, breaking into a light jog.  This only upset him, and he ran after her.  Unfortunately, he was faster, and easily caught her, and shoved her against what felt like a brick wall, she wasn’t sure, she hit her head too hard to really determine what it was.

“You embarrassed me today”

“What the hell do you want, Brian?” She tried to sound tough, but the words came out in a scared whimper.

“I want an apology, a proper one” He pressed his arm against her throat, and she coughed uncomfortably, both of her hands trying to push his wrist off of her so she could breath.

“What’s the matter with you?” She asked in a strangled voice.

“Yoink!” Before she could blink, Brian was practically flung off of her, backwards into the opposite wall of the alley he’d dragged her into.  (y/n) collapsed to her knees, hand coming to her neck shakily as she tried to catch her breath.  “I was just about to ask the same question!”

For half a second, she thought it was Peter, but she glanced up to see Spider-Man, who now had Brian webbed by his hands against the opposite wall.

“Brian Miller, what are we going to do with you?” The hero tsked, before webbing his legs to the wall as well.  “Do I alert the police, or let you rot here for a couple days and see how long it takes them to find you?”

Brian jerked his head forward as though to spit on Spider-Man, but the hero was too quick, and webbed his mouth as well.

“Much better” He brushed his hands together as though he’d done his work, and walked over to (y/n), helping her to her feet.

“Thanks” She mumbled out.

“Here, hold on tight, alright?”

He took her arms, and wrapped them around his neck, before securely holding her around her waist, and then swinging off out of the alley.  (y/n) yelped, not enjoying the feeling of flying at all, instead opting to press her face in the junction between Spider-Man’s neck and shoulder, until she felt him land on solid ground again.

Peter had taken her a few streets away, just to be more private and away from Brian.  He brought them into a more secluded alleyway, and kept his hands on her waist until he was sure that she wasn’t going to collapse again.

“I’m sorry, I got there as soon as I could-” He began to apologize, but (y/n) shook her head, prompting him to stop.

“It’s alright, I’m alright now,” She assured him.  “Thanks to you” There was a shy smile on her lips.

“Did you know that guy?” He asked lamely, since he already knew the answer.

(y/n) nodded shakily, biting her lip before opening her mouth to find the right thing to say, but she just exhaled deeply.

“Yeah…” She trailed off, hanging her head like she was ashamed of it.  “I might’ve picked a fight with him once and he… he uh…”

“It’s alright,” Spider-Man shook his head.  “It’s okay you don’t- someone’s coming”

Before she could comprehend what to do about that, he’d taken her by the waist, pulled her against him, and shot a web up to latch onto a fire escape staircase, keeping them out of the headlights of the passing car.

When it had passed, he slowly let them back down, setting her on her feet and hanging upside down in front of her.

“I really hate that” (y/n) told him with a forced laugh.

“Hate what?”

“The whole… swinging thing”

He chuckled, and for a long moment, she just looked at him.

“I should probably thank you properly, huh?” She asked softly, before stepping closer to him.

“Y-you already thanked me” He stammered, but she smiled that adorable smile, finger gently brushing over his face, before sliding to his neck to find the hem of his mask.  He had told her it was separated from the rest of the suit.

“You did save my life though…” She murmured, stepping even closer as she slowly pulled the material up his neck, revealing his chin, and lips.  She respectfully stopped at his nose.  Her eyes flickered from his lips down to the eyes of the suit, and then leaned in to close the distance between them.

Her lips were soft, even softer than Peter could’ve imagined they felt like.  And she tasted sweet like bubblegum.  If he wasn’t hanging upside down right now, he’d wrap her up and pull her closer to him.

When her fingers grazed the skin of his cheek, he didn’t think anything of it besides how comforting the warmth of her skin felt against his.

(y/n’s) heart was doing somersaults, in complete disbelief that she was kissing Spider-Man right now.

But she couldn’t help herself.

Her fingers brushed over his cheek, and the world seemed to go in slow motion as she pulled the rest of his mask off without disconnecting their kiss.

Once it was off, she opened her eyes, to see Peter Parker, still hanging there with his eyes closed, his mask being off not yet processing in his mind.

It was clear when it did though, his eyes opened fast and they were wide and scared, and he lost his grip and fell from where he hung.

“Peter?” (y/n) murmured out, brows furrowing as she watched him scramble back up to his feet.  She looked down to the mask she held in her small hands, and then back up at Peter Parker, with his messy hair and pink swollen lips.

It made sense now.  The odd feelings she would get when he was around.  She had known him.  And he knew her too.

“I-I can explain,” He spoke quickly, afraid that she was about to storm off and never speak to him.  “Please let me explain, (y/n)”

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t run away either, so he went on anyways.

“Look I- I didn’t mean for this to happen, I’m sure you’re hurt and I wasn’t trying to deceive you it all just kinda happened,” His hands were flying around as he rambled on.  “-and I know you probably hate me for lying to you but I just- I really like you (y/n), but you liked Spider-Man not Peter so I just thought that maybe I’d just continue to see you as Spider-Man and oh my god this sounds so awful right now-”

(y/n) stepped forward, taking his hand, and tentatively placing his mask in it.  Peter squeezed the material hard in his fist, knowing this was the part where she walked away.

But she didn’t.  She just looked at him, admired him.  And then reached up to fix the mess of curls on his head, brushing a few strands away from his forehead.  Finally, she looked him in the eyes, dropping her hand.

“I liked Peter Parker first,” She told him faintly.  “Spider-Man was cool and all… but he’s overrated, don’t you think?” She was still whispering as she teased, a smile tugging on her lips.  “I think Peter Parker is way cooler than him”

He stared at her in astonishment, absolutely blown away by what was happening right now.

“You do?” He asked, and she nodded, her eyes crinkling from the smile on her face.

“Yeah, I do,” She murmured back, eyes glancing back down to his lips, and then his eyes.  “I especially like the part where I get to see his face” She told him with a small giggle, and he laughed as he stepped forward, taking her face in his gloved hands.  (y/n)  clasped her own hands around his wrists, leaning her cheek into the gentle touch.

“Could I… Can I kiss you again?” He asked, already leaning in close enough that her nose bumped into his as she nodded.

Peter leaned down, sealing their lips again, and feeling her smile against him.  He gave her one more small peck before pulling away.

“Can I take you home?” He asked quietly, and she nodded again.

“Only if we can walk, I never want to swing up there like that again” She stated, making Peter chuckle and nod his head.

“Alright, deal”

He walked her all the way home, pulling his mask on almost all the way as he dropped her off at the door, so that she could still kiss him one more time before saying goodnight.

“Go terrorize the streets some more, menace” She teased him when they parted, and she pulled his mask down to cover him up again.

“Very funny,” He monotoned, making her giggle.  “Goodnight, (y/n)”

“G’night, Peter,” She hummed back, and smiled as he squeezed her hand, before disappearing up into the air.  “Go get ‘em tiger”

___

taglist:  @writings-and-stuff @rofromtheashes @tomshufflepuff @steve-avengers-rogers @vibhati123 @dark-night-sky-99  @hollandhours @drakonwild @imofficiallyobsessed

xoxo ~ jordie

[deathstunt]

beetlejuice: the musical sentence starters.

‘we have only each other.’

‘scripture tells us: sorrow not, for we do not walk alone.’

‘you’re invisible when you’re sad.’

‘nobody understands.’

‘grownups wanna fix things.’

‘is it being greedy to need somebody to see me and say my name?’

‘holy crap, a ballad already?’

‘sorry to barge in.’

‘let’s skip the tears and start on the whole, y’know, being dead thing.’

‘if i hear your cell-phone ringing, i’ll kill you myself.’

‘we should have carpe’d way more diems.’

‘i do this bullshit, like, eight times a week.’

‘just relax, you’ll be fine.’

‘drink your fifty-dollar wine.’

‘full disclosure: it’s a show about death.’

‘everybody gets on fine here.’

‘every show i do, like, a ton of coke.’

‘jesus, pass the dramamine.’

‘we’re all on a hit list.’

‘hey, that’s just statistics.’

‘there’s a giant snake here!’

‘how you doin’? ...not good.’

‘death is taboo, but it’s hardly something new.’

‘there’s nothing medical professionals can do ‘cept maybe just bill you.’

‘that’s the thing with life, no one makes it out alive.’

‘gosh, it’s awful, aint it tragic?’

‘blah, blah, bible, jesus magic.’

‘namaste, you freakin’ posers.’

‘i have mastered the art of tearing convention apart.’

‘look at this crib!’

‘i know to the untrained eye, it’s boring.’

‘why do you polish your crib when you don’t have a kid?’

‘are you willing to take the next step?’

‘the world will never wreck you.’

‘together, let’s leap off the cliff.’

‘why rush?’

‘soon enough, our hopes and our dreams will be crushed.’

‘what about global poverty? what about world peace?’

‘no habla español, dos cervezas por favor.’

‘what’s the point of having children if we’re covered in debt?’

‘see, i wasn’t kidding!’

‘i’ll be your guide!’

‘jesus, i can’t spell.’

‘let’s all get naked!’

‘i understand that it’s a lot to process...’

‘lucky for you, i dropped by.’

‘i’m like a ghost-zombie jesus!’

‘i think we’re a perfect fit.’

‘come on, let’s make out a bit.’

‘it’s the perfect day to die.’

‘i need a little help here.’

‘i’m probably talking to myself here.’

‘i’m a bunch of broken pieces.’

‘it was you who made me whole.’

‘hurry up, get happy.’

‘forget about your mom.’

‘he wants me to smile and clap like a performing seal.’

‘you won’t believe the mess that we’ve become.’

‘you held my hand and life came easy.’

‘i want something to believe in.’

‘wake me when i’m twenty-one.’

‘daddy didn’t lose a mom.’

‘i’m running out of hope and time.’

‘i’ll go insane if things don’t change.’

‘whatever it takes to make him say your name.’

‘you couldn’t frighten a fly.’

‘you are super polite, middle class, suburban, and white. well, all of that is finished tonight.’

‘i want scary faces, now go!’

‘sever a head, preferably someone you know.’

‘don’t be so vanilla.’

‘would a little anger kill ya?’

‘c’mon, drop your panties!’

‘i’m trying to fill you... with wisdom and skill!’

‘you gotta make ‘em see you!’

‘raise the stakes by punching a baby.’

‘they’ll be quaking in fright!’

‘you’ve got some evil deep down inside you.’

‘what fills you with rage? being mean to a pet? chefs who use too much sage when they make their noisette?’

‘well, there’s lot there to use.’

‘maybe this time pretend like you mean it.’

‘i want freedom.’

‘i know that beggars can’t be choosers, but do they have to be such losers?’

‘why god, slash satan, did you send these bed wetters?’

‘even, like, a tax attorney would’ve been better.’

‘well, that was a soliloquy, so you’re the one who’s being rude.’

‘that needy pervert was right.’

‘let’s haunt this bitch!’

‘i’m sure we can haunt our own house.’

‘the universe is more than just space with no end.’

‘think positive, act positive, you are a child of the earth!’

‘science makes no sense.’

‘who needs evidence? go with your feels!’

‘crystals speak to me.’

‘everything happens for a reason.’

‘be a beacon of light in the world.’

‘gee, i hate to break it to you...’

‘the pacific islands are sinking, but negative thinking is hardly the cause.’

‘you think life is all unicorns and rainbows ‘cause you’re bored.’

‘positivity is a luxury that few can afford.’

‘one day, you make wake up alone.’

‘be prepared to take your eggs and freeze ‘em.’

‘sounds like terrible things can happen.’

‘god, it’s mortifying.’

‘what’s the point of even trying?’

‘nobody said life’s fair.’

‘by the time you read this, i will be gone...’

‘there’s nothing for me here. i’m alone, forsaken, invisible.’

‘that makes two of us.’

‘you could use a buddy, don’t you want a pal?’

‘don’t end yourself, defend yourself!’

‘together we’ll exterminate, assassinate!’

‘go ahead and jump, but that won’t stop him.’

‘i’m on the bench, but coach, just put me in the game!’

‘being young and female doesn’t mean that i’m an easy mark.’

‘i’ve been swimming with piranhas, i don’t need a shark.’

‘yes, life sucks, but not that much.’

‘be a doll and spare the lecture.’

‘really, it’s a flattering offer...’

‘it’s not as if i’ve lost my mind!’

‘he can help, we found him on yelp!’

‘every word is the truth.’

‘that was possession.’

‘what do i need you for?’

‘hold up, girl, i’m your pal!’

‘i know, i went a little hard on the sell.’

‘he was already dead!’

‘the three of us alone can wreck dad’s evening.’

‘together we can make a grown man weep.’

‘it’s our house now, kid!’

‘it’s not their fault that they’re overprotective.’

‘you could be killed by a random sneeze.’

‘everything’s gonna work out.’

‘i’m just gonna ring the bell of this creepy looking house.’

‘no one gets molested by a gothy teen.’

‘maybe i should come back another time when your parents are home?’

‘the sound of a scream is music to me!’

‘you wanna answer it this time?’

‘don’t oversell it, act natural.’

‘i don’t live here, i’m dead.’

‘we’re ruining lives.’

‘no more condescending adults hanging around.’

‘take it and trash it, burn it or smash it.’

‘we have to adapt to survive.’

‘we’ve got nothing to lose!’

‘i was driving lamborghinis, slipping super-dry martinis, and the tiniest bikinis on a yacht, but i was depressed.’

‘i had such low self-esteem, i was a mess.’

‘if i only knew the truth back then, i wouldn’t have had my little accident.’

‘don’t cheat on the one you wed.’

‘why did it take death to see happiness was up to me?’

‘if i knew then what i know now, i would’ve laughed and danced.’

‘life is short, but death is super long.’

‘whichever path i choose i lose, you know.’

‘you always saw life as a game, but since you left it sucks to play.’

‘is this the end you meant for me?’

‘i promise, i’m never gonna forget you.’

‘it’s messy, but they’re all that i have.’

‘i’ll make the best of being flesh and bone.’

‘now, i really love creepy old guys.’

‘hey baby, smile!’

‘one of ‘em loves me and wants to be mine.’

‘i’m a creepy old guy!’

‘i’m so happy i could cry!’

‘girls may seem disgusted, but we’re actually just shy!’

‘you know, i am older, but i’m glad i waited.’

‘fix his hair, get him prepared for armageddon.’

‘sure, the groom’s out of a tomb.’

‘she’s marrying a creepy old guy.’

‘have you guys seen lolita? this is just like that, but fine.’

‘i know that on the outside he’s disgusting...’

‘even on the inside, he’s disgusting.’

‘i found me a wife.’

‘i was ignored, but now i’m adored.’ 

‘cause i exploited, tortured, and lied.’

‘give it up for my underage bride!’

‘i can’t believe some cultures think this kinda thing’s alright.’

‘doesn’t he deserve a chance at life?’

[psychosistr]

Hermit’s Heart- Pt.2

Summary: After Caesar’s death, he’s prepared to enter the after life and pass on..however, as always, a certain Joestar derails his plans. With a simple, impulsive gesture, Caesar changes his own fate and becomes Joseph’s unseen guardian.

Notes: So, apparently on my birthday I like making myself sad and decided to share that sadness with others. Enjoy the prequel to the previous part that seemed to make everyone cry as much reading it as me when I wrote it xD

-First Part-

Caesar sighed as he watched Joseph go about his daily business with the real estate firm. Watching Jojo work had its interesting moments, certainly, but, for the most part, it was simply tedious. You think he would be used to it after nearly fifty years of watching after the other man, but there were still times when he would get bored.

It really wouldn’t be so bad if he could actually TALK to his friend, he had thought several times in the past. Unfortunately, that was part of the curse of being DEAD.

With another sigh, Caesar reclined back in the air around him weightlessly as he recalled the years leading up to this point…

There had been the fight against the pillar men, Aztec gods that had sought a way to become immortal and unstoppable. He and Joseph had trained to defeat them, and to save Joseph’s life in the process. Tragedy struck, however, when Caesar decided to go off on his own to fight the pillar men after a rather nasty argument with Joseph. He had lost horribly against Wham, the pillar man holding the antidote needed to save Joseph’s life. In a last ditch effort to save his friend, Caesar had managed to snatch the antidote from Wham before giving up the last of his energy to protect it and make sure Joseph’s life would be saved.

When he awoke some time later, he quickly discovered that he was, as he is currently, dead. He had been floating above the ruins, apparently on his way to the afterlife. He had almost made it to a portal of bright light when..distantly..he heard someone calling his name.

“…Caesar..” He knew that voice..

“Jojo..?” He looked back down, listening for that familiar voice again.

“Fight alongside me, Caesar.” It was definitely Joseph’s voice. It had a resolve to it that Caesar had only ever heard when the Joestar was about to do something that was both foolishly reckless and kind-heartedly selfless at the same time.

“Jojo, don’t you dare get yourself killed!” Caesar yelled while taking off towards Joseph’s voice. Finding out he could fly was a bit of a surprise, but, he supposed, it made sense seeing as he was floating when he woke up. He also found that he could go through solid surfaces such as floors and walls, making it much easier to find Joseph.

What he witnessed sent a swell of affection straight to his no-longer-beating heart: He saw Joseph fighting against Wham in a chariot race, Caesar’s headband tied around his head. He noted that the antidote ring was still in one piece, but decided he would be angry about that later if Joseph didn’t survive the fight.

Luckily, he did, with Caesar watching and cheering him on the whole time. His headband was destroyed during the fight and it soon materialized around his own head again, ending up right where it belonged. Caesar watched with pride as Joseph finally consumed the antidote. He was relieved that his sacrifice had not been in vain- Joseph would live.

Of course, there was the still the battle with Kars that almost dispelled what little relief Caesar had felt over Joseph’s victory against Wham. Kars had proven to be a much more challenging and underhanded opponent. Joseph almost died quite a few times before finally sending Kars flying off into space. However, the chunk of earth he had been on quickly plummeted towards the ground.

Caesar looked towards Joseph, wondering how he would find a way out of this. To his surprise, however, Joseph merely lied down on the rock with a content smile on his face.

“Caesar..” Joseph called his name, not once opening his eyes. “Guess I’ll be seeing you soon…”

“Jojo..” Caesar reached out to touch his friend, but his hand went right through him. “No..no, damn it!” He yelled while trying futilely to grab onto the brunette. “Don’t you dare give up now! I didn’t die just so you could join me here! You have to live, Jojo!”

His attempts at getting Joseph’s attention were all in vain, sadly, and Caesar feared the Joestar really would perish without trying at all to save his own life.

Luckily, it seemed the universe had other plans as the rock fell into the sea and Joseph was later picked up by a fishing boat. After that he was taken back to Italy and placed under Suzi Q’s care. She turned out to be a wonderful nurse, her and Joseph clearly enjoying each other’s company just as much as when Caesar was around. He had to admit, though, that he was a bit jealous watching the two of them. They looked like they would make a great couple.

“A couple…” Caesar said one evening while watching Joseph sleep. He reached out, his hand phasing through the sleeping Joestar’s cheek before he pulled it back to make-believe he was actually touching his face. “I guess you’ll be getting married soon..moving in together..having a nice big family…” These were all things that Caesar himself had wanted to have one day, but had given up to safe Joseph’s life. While he would never regret giving up his life for Joseph, there was one thing he did deeply regret. “I wish that..I could have been the one to experience all of that with you…” It was a foolish dream, he was aware- society was very adamantly against those kinds of relationships. Yet, even knowing this, he had still fallen in love with the foolish but clever man lying before him now. With a depressed sigh, Caesar rose to his feet. “Perhaps it is time for me to move on. You’re in good hands here and you no longer need me by your side. Arrivederci..amore..”

He walked over to the window nearby and looked outside. He could still see that glowing portal from before, hanging in the sky like a second-moon. He instinctively knew that that was where he was supposed to go- where he should have gone days ago.

As he started to phase through the wall, a quivering voice caught his attention. “Cae..sar…” He stopped and looked back towards the room’s only other occupant. Joseph’s brow was creased and he was fidgeting under the covers. Was he having a nightmare? “Caesar..” He said the other man’s name again, his arm that wasn’t in a cast reaching out in front of him like he was trying to grab something. “Please..don’t..go..”

“Jojo..?” Caesar frowned and walked back over, sitting beside Joseph on the bed and trying to grab his hand. “Joseph, you need to calm down, you’ll hurt yourself again if you fall out of the bed.” He knew the other couldn’t hear him, he never could, and his hand just went right through him, but he tried nonetheless.

“Caesar..I’m..I’m sorry..” To Caesar’s wide-eyed astonishment, there were tears forming in the corners of Joseph’s eyes. “I’m sorry..Caesar..I’m sorry..come back..please…Caesar..!”

Caesar frowned, hating that he was unable to do anything to ease his friend’s pain. “Jojo…” He wrapped himself around Joseph’s body in an attempt at a hug, his forehead pressing against the larger man’s tenderly. “Joseph..wake up..”

It could have been a coincidence. It could have been a power that Caesar was unaware he had. Either way, Joseph’s eyes shot open and he sat up immediately (Caesar moving out of his way instinctively, even though he knew the other would just go through him), his hand reaching out in front of him desperately. “CAESAR!!” He was panting heavily, wide eyes looking around like he was searching. Apparently not finding what he wanted only seemed to upset him further and the normally proud Joestar curled in on himself with a choked sob. “Caesar…”

“Jojo..” Caesar replied with a pained look. He hated this. He hated not being able to comfort his beloved friend. Hated not being able to wrap his arms around him for real and tell him that everything would be okay. All he could do was sit there and watch his friend come undone.

“Jojo?” A gentle voice questioned from somewhere behind Caesar. He turned his head and saw Suzi Q in the room’s doorway with a lantern, a concerned look on her face. She walked further into the room. “Jojo, is something wrong? Did the stitches pop again?”

Joseph sniffled and rubbed at his eyes with his uninjured hand. “I..Never mind, it’s nothing..just..go back to bed, Suzi…” He didn’t look up at her, merely stared at his legs under the blanket.

“……” She walked over to him instead and set the lantern on the nightstand by his bed before gently wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. “You were thinking about Caesar, right?”

Caesar was just as surprised as Joseph to hear her guess it right so easily. “!!”

She looked down at him with a sympathetic but sad smile. “I heard you saying his name. It’s okay, I miss him too.”

Joseph looked up at her for a while before his eyes looked back down again. “Promise you won’t think any less of me if I tell you something weird?”

Suzi shook her head and sat down by Joseph on the bed, Caesar moving around to the other side so he wouldn’t feel so crowded over there. “Of course- I can keep a secret!”

Joseph gripped the blankets under his hand tightly, unable to meet her sincere smile and patient eyes. “I……I loved him…”

Caesar stared at Jojo in surprise. “Joseph..? You..?”

Joseph continued, unaware of the man in question hearing every word of his confession. “I don’t know when it started..but..at some point..I fell in love with him. I know it was stupid- he was a freakin’ Casanova and always showed off how easily he could get anyone he wanted, so why would he choose someone like me? Still..it happened..to top it all off, I didn’t even figure it out ‘til we had that stupid fight and he stormed off to go fight the pillar men all by himself..” He brought his hand up to his face and covered his eyes. “I was so worried about him..I thought, if I caught up to him, then maybe we could work things out and I could tell him then…..but..then we found his headband..and I knew I’d missed my chance…” His shoulders shook and Caesar could see tears leaking out from under Joseph’s hand again. “I loved him..hell..I STILL love him..and-and now..he’s…” He broke down into a fit of sobs again and Caesar’s heart broke more hearing it.

“Jojo..” Suzi wrapped her arms around him again, holding him as he cried.

“It’s not fair, damn it!” Joseph sobbed in her arms, his whole body trembling with the force of his emotions. “Why’d that idiot have to go and die like that?! Why’d he have to leave me alone?! He should’ve been the one to live, not me!!” He gave a broken sob and clung to Suzi. “He was the one who could’ve married a cute girl and had a nice family and actually DONE SOMETHING with his life! Lisa Lisa said it herself- I’m probably gonna end up dead or in jail, so what good is it for someone like ME to be alive while HE’S dead?!”

“Idiota..don’t talk like that..” Caesar was choking back tears of his own. “I wanted you to live so that you could have those things, too..you deserve them just as much as me.”

“Joseph..” Suzi’s voice was sweet and kind, as it always was. “Caesar cared about you, too. He had a funny way of showing it, but we all saw it. He probably wanted you to grow old and have a good life with the people who love you.” She carefully put her hands on Joseph’s head, a few tears in her own eyes as she spoke. “I…I know I can never take his place..but..I promise I won’t leave you alone. Okay?”

Joseph sniffled and looked at her. “Suzi..” He loosened his grip on her and let his forehead rest on her shoulder. “You think you’d be okay with a guy that’s still hung up on someone else?”

“Of course I would.” Suzi said while gently patting his head. “As long as that guy could care about me a little, too.”

Joseph managed a small smile and a broken laugh while holding onto her. “I think that’d be pretty easy.”

Caesar watched the pair embracing on the bed, feeling more than a little envious. However, despite his jealousy at not being the one to hold and comfort Joseph, he was relieved to see that he did have someone so understanding. Very few people would have been so okay with the one they cared for harboring feelings for someone else.

Still, as he watched the two of them, he could feel the sadness coming off of Joseph in waves. “Jojo.” He placed a hand on the larger man’s back and stroked it gently. He felt his resolve building and voiced it aloud. “Even if you can’t see my face..even if you can’t hear my voice..even if you can’t feel my touch..I’ll stay right here beside you. After all, you asked me to fight alongside you and I still haven’t gotten the chance to do that.” He let his head rest against Joseph’s back and closed his eyes. “Until we get to see each other again, I’ll wait right here by your side.”

And Caesar had done just as he promised, even now, fifty years after his life had been cut tragically short.

Through the decades he had watched Joseph get married, start a family, give up his hamon training, and slowly age into an old man as one-by-one his older relatives passed away. Joseph had traveled the world and seen many exotic and unusual things thanks to the Speedwagon Foundation. A while ago, he’d traveled to Egypt and met a fortune teller that told him about a mystic presence known as a “stand” that embodied the user’s soul. It had been a shock for Caesar to see the fiery red bird appear, but Joseph had apparently not seen it. The whole time, Caesar had a feeling that the fortune teller, and the bird-like spirit, were aware of his presence with how they kept glancing in his general direction.

Now, though, Joseph was done with traveling for a bit and back in New York to continue his day-job. It was a monotonous day-to-day existence, but Caesar was not one to break a promise- even if the one he promised had never actually heard him.

“Hurry up and finish already, Joseph. You always take forever doing your paperwork..” Caesar nagged the brunette while changing his position in the air to a cross-legged one.

He couldn’t explain it, but lately he had been feeling a bit…anxious. Something had been pulling at the back of his mind, giving him a sense of paranoia and unease that something might happen to Joseph if the old fool wasn’t careful. It made him nervous whenever Joseph was outside of his home or by himself in public. Caesar’s eyes often scanned the area for threats, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything should Joseph be attacked.

“He is in danger.” A voice spoke to him suddenly and without precedence.

“?!” Caesar’s head shot up and he looked around for the source of the voice. The only one in the room besides himself was Joseph, and the phone wasn’t turned on at the moment so it couldn’t have been a phone call. Plus Joseph seemed ignorant to the voice’s words, simply going about his business as usual. “Who said that?!” Caesar questioned while looking around but staying close to Joseph.

“He is in danger.” The voice repeated. It was an odd voice, seeming to come from all directions at once. It sounded like every voice Caesar had ever heard in the background of a crowded room and yet like nothing at all. It was unsettling yet calming at the same time. “Joseph Joestar is in danger. His whole family is.” The voice continued. “They will soon face an ancient evil that seeks to end the Joestar line forever.”

Caesar felt like the voice was telling him the truth. He looked at Joseph with wide, worried eyes. “Joseph..he can’t fight like he used to..if something as powerful as the pillar men attacked him, he may not survive..” Fear and concern bubbled up within his chest. There had to be some way to warn him! Some way to protect him from such a threat!

“There is a way to save him.” The voice spoke calmly. “He will need someone to fight at his side and grant him guidance in these trials. Should you be willing, you may become his strength to ensure his survival.”

“I’ll do it!” Caesar responded without hesitation and complete conviction in his words.

“Do not agree so readily.” The voice warned him. “For if you choose this path, there is no going back. You will lose much that may not be reclaimed for many years to come..”

“I don’t care!” Caesar’s conviction did not waver in the slightest. “I already gave up my life for him! I would gladly give that and anything else up for his safety! Just tell me what to do and I will do it!”

“Very well…” The voice relented. “Touch his hand and you shall be transformed into something he will need in these coming days: A stand. He was not born with this ability, nor was he exposed to the source for it..however, the enemy of his bloodline has gained this power and caused it to awaken in others who share that blood. Those, like Joseph Joestar, will need guardians to become their stands since they do not possess them already.”

Caesar did as he was instructed and touched Joseph’s hand, grasping it as much as he could without going through it. “Jojo…” He felt a rush of energy spreading outward from where his body was touching Joseph’s, shooting up his arm and into his chest. “This time..we will fight together.”

He closed his eyes as the energy burned through him. It was an odd sensation, like his long-dead veins were burning while his every muscle was simultaneously being split apart. Strangely enough, it didn’t hurt, it was simply…odd. The feeling spread over every part of his body from his head to his toes, leaving him feeling oddly loose and shifty by the time it was all over.

When he opened his eyes again, he came to the odd realization that he wasn’t exactly sure WHERE his eyes were. He looked at himself and discovered that his body had unraveled into several thorny, purple vines. Many of them were spread out in the surrounding area, simply lying in wait to be moved as Caesar realized after a bit of focusing. The main part of him, the part that held the greater portion of his consciousness that could loosely be called his “head” was focused into about three or four vines which were growing out of Joseph’s hand.

As he focused on where his no longer visible “eyes” were looking, he noticed that Joseph was looking at him with a perplexed expression. “What the hell..?”

Caesar moved one of his vines back and forth to test if Joseph could see him. “Jojo? Joseph, can you see me?” Joseph’s eyes followed the vine, meaning that he could indeed see him. “Ah! You CAN see me! Jojo, it’s me- it’s Caesar!” Caesar was so excited to know that he had a way to interact with his old friend again. He tried moving one of his vines to touch Joseph’s face and was even more elated to find out that he could actually make contact with him. “This is great! Joseph, there is so much we need to-!”

Joseph continued to look at him with a confused expression, using his other hand to carefully touch the vine that had just touched his cheek. “Woah..this is cool..but, still, what the hell are you??”

Caesar’s good mood fell almost instantly. “Huh? What are you talking about? Jojo, it’s me!” A thought occurred to him as he watched Joseph examining his vines carefully. “You..You can’t hear me…”

He felt like his heart (wherever it was in this mass of vines) was breaking all over again. It was so unfair…after all this time..Joseph could finally see him..he could touch him..but he couldn’t even let him know who or what he was…he was so close, yet still so far…

While Caesar was wallowing in the bitter feeling of despair over his current predicament, Joseph grabbed a camera from a drawer on his desk. “This is so weird..I wonder if it’ll show up on film..?” Caesar felt some of his vines shifting over to Joseph’s other hand, coming out of his hand in the same way his main ones were on the other side. This startled Joseph and caused him to grip the camera harder. “Woah! Ah, shit!” He swore as it started to crack.

Caesar felt an energy racing through him, similar to what he felt when his body changed. “Ah!” He gasped (though there was no telling where his mouth was like this) as the energy seemed to link him to Joseph’s mind.

He saw flashes of thought, memories of the fortune teller he’d met in Egypt. Then he felt a pull on another part of his mind- while one half was staying connected to Joseph’s thoughts, the other half was seeing things in another location. He saw the man that Joseph was thinking of- he was in the middle of performing a tarot card reading for a group of children along the side of a road. That image froze in his mind and the energy within him spread through the vines, into Joseph’s hands, and then finally into the camera he was holding.

The camera shattered completely in Joseph’s grip, but, from the wreckage, a single photo was printed out: It was the image of the fortune teller that had been in Caesar’s mind.

Joseph put down the camera’s remains and picked up the picture with a look of shock and awe. “Woah! This is crazy! I was just thinking about how Avdol might be able to explain this to me!” He looked back down at the vines on his hand. “Did you do that?”

“I..I think I did..?” Caesar replied despite Joseph being deaf to his words. He was pretty sure that was his doing just now, but he still had no idea HOW he did it. This would take some practice and experimentation from both of them to figure out the full extent of Caesar’s new form and powers.

While he would have preferred a form that allowed him to speak to Joseph, or at least allow him to be recognized, Caesar still hoped this new power would prove useful to Joseph in whatever bizarre challenges he was about to face.

[rocknrollmj]

Who Are You? Part 3

A/N: sorry this one is a bit long! If you want to be added or removed from my tag list let me know!

Xo MJ

—————————————————————

I unlocked the door to my place, the light I had left on illuminated the apartment. It was small but cozy, it had a small bathroom, a living room with a couch, a coffee table and two armchairs, a half kitchen half dining room and a small bedroom. It wasn’t much, but since I wasn’t one for company, it was all that I needed. Klaus let out a low whistle as he stepped inside.

“Wow. Nice place!” He immediately collapsed on the couch, I rolled my eyes as I took off my boots and walked over to him.

“Do you want something to drink? Tea, coffee, water, maybe some mouthwash?” He faked looking offended, before properly sitting up and answering me.

“Do you have any vodka?”

“No”

“Whiskey?”

“Nope”

“Rum?”

“Not a drop”

“Do you have ANY kind of alcohol in this place?!?!”

“No” I simply replied, he groaned and lied back down on the couch, flailing his limbs like a small child with a temper tantrum.

“Whyyyy notttttt?” He whined, I rolled my eyes once again as I made my way to the kitchen.

“Not old enough to drink asshole.” Though my back was to him as I walked away I could tell he was glaring at me. I got two glasses down from the small cupboard from over the kitchen counter, I walked over to the sink and filled both glasses with water. After turning off the tap I took the glasses and walked back into the tiny living space, I placed one of the glasses on the coffee table and walked over to my favourite armchair with my own. I curled up like a cat, knees close to my chest, as if I was scared that someone might attack me. We drank our water in silence, well more so me, I took a few sips while Klaus downed his in one. Placing the glass back down with a soft thud, and shaking his head like a wet dog.

“WOO! I forgot what water tasted like! That shit’s good!” I recoiled more slightly into my chair with the loud noise. Brother or not, I was still slightly scared of him.

“So, are you gonna tell me how we’re related?” I quietly asked, I thought that it was silent in the apartment before, but with that question even the clocks stopped ticking. Klaus sighed and for once I could see how tired he looked, he seemed to have wrinkles even though he was young. He suddenly looked as if he aged 20 years with a single question.

“Yeah, I guess I should. No point in putting it off any longer.” He checked his jacket pockets for what I assumed were his cigarettes, but when he found the carton he realized that it was empty.

“Shit.” He muttered, he sighed again before standing up. He began pacing.

“You know the story of how The Academy started correct?” I nodded, I knew the story well, every kid my age did. The Umbrella Academy were legends in the city’s eyes, and no one dared to disagree.

“Well it started when our mother, that slut, agreed to sell me to the psychopath Reginald Hargreeves. Fast forward a few years and she met your dad and they-” he made a rather crude gesture, as I grimaced.

“And then 9 months later badabing badaboom! You were born!”

“Why are you telling me the story of my birth? I know how it goes, I was there.” He slowed his pacing, he looked slightly annoyed, yet oddly proud.

“Gee, with a comment like that I can tell that we are definitely related.” I glared at him from over the top of my water glass before taking a sip.

“Anyway, when you were born she freaked right out, I mean sure she had sold me but what was she gonna do with you? She couldn’t support you, your dad had screwed off with someone else, just like mine. Seems to be a family tradition. She had no money left, she had spent it all recklessly, on fancy things that she didn’t need, on drugs, whatever. So she pawned what she could for the first few months, but again she spent it recklessly and had to do something. She tried getting a job but no one wanted to hire a junkie, so she did the only thing she could…” he trailed off. He looked sadder than I had seen him all night, I looked at him, concerned but also curious.

“What happened?” He took another deep breath and gestured to my glass of water, indicating that he wanted it. I gave it to him and took a few shaky sips.

“The only thing that she could do in her eyes… was to try and sell you to Reginald Hargreeves. Just like she did to me.” I felt the room freeze, I couldn’t breathe, I felt tears brim my eyes, Klaus refused to look at me. I had a million thoughts and feelings. I mean, I knew that my mother wasn’t the best. But she was still my mother. Would she really try to sell me?

“I’m sorry” Klaus spoke after a while, and I could tell that he meant it.

“We can stop for tonight if you-”

“No!” I cut him off, a little more harshly than I meant

“Sorry, please tell me what happened.” Klaus nodded and continued, he sat down on the couch, took another sip of my water and went on.

“She took you to the academy, tried to convince him that you were born on the same day, just a few years later. Therefore you might have powers like me, he just laughed in her face. I remember peeking through dad’s office door and watching the scene unfold, I couldn’t believe what she was doing.” His grip on the glass tightened, his face became angry.

“She tried to sell you like you were a piece of junk at a yard sale. All because she couldn’t get her shit together. She tried to put you through all the pain, and the torture that I went through, just to get more money!” He started yelling, I could see tears starting to form, but he blinked them away before they could fall.

“Anyway of course dad said no, she then offered you up as a maid, or a test subject. He just laughed at her and told her to get out. He never wanted to see her again, but I did. I may have only been a kid but I knew that I wanted to see you at least once. So I snuck out one night, came here, she just snarled at me, asked me what I wanted. I said that I wanted to see you, she let me in, it’s a good thing that she was high, otherwise she never would’ve agreed to do that. And then I saw you, lying in a little crib, I asked what your name was and she said she didn’t know yet, she had just been calling you sprout. Since you were so freakin small. I held you for what seemed like seconds, but then when I looked up it was morning. I put you to sleep and ran back to the academy, of course the others knew what I was up to, but unfortunately so did dad. And boy oh boy did he give me hell for it.” He chuckled at the memory, but after catching a look at my horrified and

concerned face, he stopped and gave me a soft smile.

“And then after that I never saw you again, I wasn’t allowed anywhere near this place. But I had always hoped that I would get to see you again, and I did. And that is where our story ends!” He finished dramatically as he finished the last bit of water from the glass. I just sat there, I didn’t realize that my mouth had opened during the story. It may have been crazy but I believed him, and every crazy word that came out of his mouth. But one question still lingered in my mind, and I needed it answered.

“Why now?” Klaus looked at me with a tilted head, reminding me of a confused puppy.

“Why now what?”

“I mean, why now? Why after all this time have you come for me?” His face hardened.

“Because I couldn’t see you at the funeral, she didn’t want me there, but someone needed to look after you. Better than she could.” My lips tightened at the mention of the funeral, I didn’t like talking about my mothers death. She had died of a heroin overdose 4 months ago, I didn’t like talking about it. Especially since I was the one that found her, I was the one who called 911, who organized, spoke at and attended the funeral. Since I barely had any family, I was the only one who spoke, it was a few old people that I had never met and some of her junkie pals that honestly just came for the free food and alcohol. No one offered to take me in, not that I would’ve gone anyway. So the landlord, who was a friend and always had a soft spot for me, let me keep the apartment. Ever since then I had been alone, but I was fine with it, I was almost 18 anyways so I could stand being independant.

“I’m sorry by the way, I may not have known her that well, but you seemed to come out ok.” Klaus finally spoke, taking note of the expression on my face.

“Whatever. It’s not like she would’ve gone out any other way.” I muttered snappily. He looked slightly taken aback, but let it slide. I glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Jesus Christ it’s 4am!” I exclaimed, rising from my chair quickly. I gathered the two glasses taking them to the kitchen and giving them a quick rinse before putting them on the small drying rack.

I walked back to the living space, I almost forgot that Klaus was there, he looked at me expressionless.

“Ummm, I hate to cut this whole family reunion thing short, but I’m really tired and that’s just a lot to absorb.” Klaus nodded in agreement.

“I understand. It’s a lot, I know. You should go get some sleep.” For the first time all night he actually seemed calm. I began heading to my room before hearing him talk again.

“Hey!” He called. I turned around on one heel and faced him. He had a sheepish yet imp like look on his face again.

“Look it’s really late, and I don’t really wanna go back to the academy at this time. Could I sleep here?” It took me a second before I finally nodded, he raised up his arms and let out a soft ‘yesssss’.

I went to the bedroom and grabbed a blanket and a pillow from the bed, dragging them over to Klaus.

“Oh thank you dear! You’re the best host ever, you know that.” I gave him a tight lipped smile and a nod.

“There’s only one bedroom, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch.” He nodded before letting out a small chuckle.

“Sweetheart, I’ve slept on concrete floors before. As long as I don’t have to walk anywhere tonight I’ll sleep in the bathtub tonight if you tell me to.” I let out a soft laugh, it seemed to comfort him, the fact that I was finally laughing.

“Goodnight Klaus”

“Goodnight Y/N.” I closed the bedroom door, thankful that I didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. I fell asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

@sparklydeanclampalace

@emeliecyr

@multifandomgirl16

@the-one-and-only-celine

@parkersinfinitywar

@hailshurricane

@the-killer-queenie

@georgique-unique

@rosehargreeves

@gabriella-superwholock-universe

@steampowerednightvaler

@multifxndom-umbrellxs

@ahwou

@my-dark-happy-place

@and-your-mother-that-slut

[amnachil]

To the Perfection Chapter 1 Part 11

I’m a little late (like always) but here is the next part !

Thomas Friday February 22

"To me, it looks like hazing." mumbled Cody.

Will you shut up already ? He was so annoying.

"We made a bet." replied Jo��l. "And I lost. Thomy wants me to carry his stuff for a week, and I'll do it. I'm a man of my word."

It was what Thomas had demanded after the bet. To be honest, it was just a way to humiliate the cocky lad. Maybe this way, he would understand he wasn't that great.

"You sure are a stupid and exploited person. Like a slave." retorted the dark-haired lad. "And where is Ilhan ? We are supposed to work on our assignment together..."

"You're always exaggerating." smiled Thomas. "I will go get Ilhan, just wait here."

Their friend was still in the lockers room. The ginger joined him in silent, and watched him discreetly. Apparently, he had some troubles to close his pants. Ironic. Thomas had more than succeeded with Ilhan. This one looked out of shape, with a soft and doughy belly which was hanging over his clothes. Most of his t-shirt were too tight now, and showed pretty well his new curve. All their classmate had noticed the gains, but since Thomas had asked them to be quiet, no one had made fun of Ilhan. Not even Joël, now that I think about it.

"Are you coveting me ?" asked his friend when he glimpsed him.

"Not really. Cody is starting to get impatient."

Ilhan mumbled something inaudible. He wasn't really happy about his growing waistline. But he couldn't control himself anymore. He was completely under Thomas's control. A true piggy slave.

"Dude please stop joking with all that..." begged the poor feedee. "You don't realise how bad this is, do you ? It have been one month and I'm up to 79 kg (174 pounds). I gained 6 kg (13 pounds) ! My grades are dropping, coach told me to get back in shape, my parents made me see two doctors and I feel like a piece of trash. This is not funny, stop smiling please."

The ginger only laughed. A warm, sweet laugh which could appease even the angriest person alive.

"You're freakin' out for nothing." he explained cheerfully. "As long as you please me, what's the matter ? You're here to make me happy, got it ?"

Since Ilhan didn't answer, Thomas came closer. His face became scary. His eyes shows rage. Around him, the atmosphere became terribly frightening.

"Your whole purpose is to fulfill my desire." he repeated slowly. "Do you got it ?"

"Su... Sure." whispered a more than scared Ilhan. "I'm... I'm fine and I'll please you, whatever you want."

"Nice."

On his way home this evening, Thomas thought about what happened during this month. He was fond of Dan, there was no doubt about that. At start, he had thought it was impossible for him to be in a relationship with his crush. But now, he was seriously considering it. First of all, Raphaël was far away most of the time, and he couldn't control them. Besides, Thomas was learning to be more dominant, because he understood it was the kind of personnality Dan liked. He's a submissive guy. I can get him, I know that. So he was bossing Ilhan and Joël around. He started to appear more in class event, and to lead the whole 12th grade. They were all licking his boots. As a bonus, Dan couldn't stop himself from eating. He was always stuffed. I can't even imagine the amount of calorie he's gobbling daily. Needless to say, the junior was now fat. He had said yesterday he was weighting around 90 kg (200 pounds), that was to say a gain of 8 kg (18 pounds) in one month. That's impressive. But Dan didn't show any will to stop, and Thomas neither. Usually, he wasn't in favor of too much fat, because it was kind of unhealthy, but now he hoped Raphaël would be disgusted. Thomas's phone rang suddenly. He picked up when he noticed it was Cody.

"Thomy." this latter began with a hesitant voice. "Can we talk about something ? I'm worried about Ilhan. He looks really down these days."

"At this hour, for real ? Look, I know you're always worried about our friendship and all but c'mon, you're starting to get annoying."

A silent followed.

"Sorry..." whispered his friend. "I just wanted to talk with you since you are..."

"I'm not a shrink or whatever." cut Thomas. "If Ilhan or you have problems, go see someone else, I don't care. Stop being such a leech Cody, and just leave me be. Clear ?"

"O... Okay."

Thomas hung up, pretty upset. What a waste of time. Ilhan is perfectly fine, and you're just being annoying. And Raphaël who is coming back tomorow. Damnit, that make me so mad !

Dan Saturday February 23

I look like trash. He didn't find a single shirt pullover loose enough to hide is belly. He had to worn sweatpants, since only they fit. He had shaved and dressed his hair, but he still felt ugly. Since Shirley had told him the harsh truth, he was seriously thinking about it. Why on earth Raphaël, a national player loved by tons of people, was dating someone like him ? He's handsome, bright and gifted. Everything he tries is always a success. I'm nothing in comparison. His boyfriend was coming back today, but these thoughts prevented Dan to be excited. Besides, to get distracted, he hadn't found any other way than stuff himself until he was barely conscious. He started the day with a more than copious breakfast which left him unable to move. Afterwards,he would gorge himself as much as possible in order to not think about anything else. Thomas helped a lot. His friend was always reassuring and sweet. He also encouraged him to eat more. No wonders I'm almost obese. Dan hadn't attend his lessons since wednesday. He didn't visit Darren, nor went outside the house. He just stuffed himself. And the more he was doing that, the more he felt unworthy of Raphaël. And of course, the more he thought that, the more he ate. He heard the door open. He's here. His boyfriend was here. Raphaël entered in the room with a smile, but when he saw Dan, he frowned.

"I know." mumbled miserably this one. "I'm out of shape and downright fat. This is bad because it's dangerous for my health and it's wrong for your public image."

The ginger opened his mouth, but his boyfriend continued.

"I know, the place is a mess. I didn't do the housework and there are wrappers everywhere. Plus it smell awful. You hate it, I get that."

"Dan..."

"I know, I skipped most of my class and I gonna fail this year. I'm a stupid lazy fatass and you definitely deserve better."

"Dan."

"Yeah, I know, my sister is doing illegal stuff and I'm having her back. It makes me a criminal, and this is very bad for your career. And I know I've been spoiling Thomas too much and he does litterally whatever he wants. I'm an horrible brother, an horrible babysitter and an horrible boyfriend. I should just leave."

Raphaël suddenly put his cold hand on his belly, and Dan let out a not very manly cry.

"Dan, can you stop that ?" he asked (ordered). "I don't understand what is going on ?"

It took two hours for the junior to explain what he had in mind for a few days. He decided to be honest with his feelings, and told everything to Raphaël. Thanks to his boyfriend, this moment went well. They went to the bedroom, and lied down onto the bed. There, the ginger gently cuddled his lover while this one confided. Once he finished, Dan felt relieved. Get all this off his chest felt nice.

"I'm sorry." commented Raphaël. "I was so focused on Thomas, I didn't pay enough attention to you. I should've see you were feeling overwhelmed..."

"But I just spent about two hours telling you I'm not worth enough to..."

A cold stare made Dan quiet. Okay, not my turn to talk anymore. His boyfriend definitely was authoritarian.

"Let's be clear." stated Raphaël. "I love you, and I want to be with you. Nobody else. We're together for more than one year and half and I loved you for even longer. I never thought you were unworthy. Please trust me."

Dan nodded slowly. He knew his boyfriend was sincere. He also noticed his hands were freezing.

"Besides, I feel way better when you're around and I miss you too. I mean, I'm happier with you, because you made me feel comfortable. And to me, you're not stupid or lazy. I think my family counted way too much on you."

The junior lowered his eyes. I know you're trying to confort me but... Seeing Raphaël so nice made him feel even worse. He was here, complaining and whining like a baby, while his boyfriend was already an accomplished celebrity.

"Dan stop that please."

Surprised, the junior glanced at Raphaël. This one was impassive. He had a cold look, but he seemed hurt. Or annoyed, Dan couldn't say.

"Stop what ?" he prudently asked.

"Thinking of me like if I was perfect. Please, don't do it."

His tone was deeply honest.

"Just... look at me." he ordered. "I want to comfort you but I can't show any facial expression. I'm as cold as ever, just as an impassive doll. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm not a moving statue just because I can't express my feelings like everyone else. But I do feel. Right now I feel helpless, insensitive and aloof. I don't like that."

Dan looked at him, surprised. He had never voiced his feelings like that before.

"I know what people say : I'm awesome, smart, good-looking and all..." continued Raphaël. "But does that mean I must always be perfect ? I can't do it Dan. For real, I can't. Don't think that of me too."

The brown-haired lad put an hand on Raphaël's head.

"Hey love. It's okay."

His boyfriend seemed tired. Really tired. He slowly closed his eyes.

"You're right, you're not perfect and neither I am. But we truly are better together. I'm sorry I worried you. I'll do better from now on, and when I have doubts, I'll talk to you okay ?"

He noticed Raphaël had fallen asleep. Dan decided to let him rest, reassured to know their relationship was fine. I'm very lucky to have him... Maybe he doesn't want to be perfect, but to me, he's truly the perfection.

To be continued

Some feelings here. Dan is one self-conscious dude, but Raphaël is here to make him feel better. Btw Raphaël only wants to be treated like a normal person. He knows he’s different (who the hell can emmate such a cold aura ?) but he doesn’t want to be considered special.

As for Thomas, his ambitions are getting the best of him... Beware of the unleashed feeder !

[dianadragonfly]

“His Last Vow” commentary

I do want to listen to the commentary of Moffat et. al, but I couldn’t get through a few minutes. I just can’t parse it at all. I need to find transcripts. On this whole 3 season set, only one episode had commentary with Martin and Ben. Disappointed. 

Wait..these are vaults. FILES! Places where he keeps his information. Is the memory palace at the end a lie? I never understood how he could blackmail without actually having the original documents.

I remember vividly thinking CAM had some sort of google glass when I first watched this episode. Red herring. Well done, Moffat and Gattis. 

Ugh, the way CAM holds Lady Smallwood’s hand ... ugh. Licking her? Ugh. The unspoken threat of rape is there. He can violate in any way he wants and she cannot stop him. 

John dreaming of Sherlock while lying with Mary. Huh? Nightmares of Afghanistan haven’t been mentioned since episode 1, season 1. So to dream of Afghanistan AND Sherlock? Is this to drive home that he misses the battlefield and excitement?

“There’s nothing wrong with me. Pretend I said that without shouting.” That’s the exact same delivery is “Damn my leg! Oh my god, I am so sorry.” That not pausing between two very different statements and very different tones of voice. It’s awesome and hilarious. Again, season 1, episode 1. 

“It’s a tiny bit sexy.” Mary, I love you. Why?!? WHY?!?

What’s up with the dream colors/out of focus and slow-mo? I think it’s meant to show how things look if you’re on drugs but John has no reason to look at the world like that. He’s stone cold sober, right? Is this evidence of the alibi theory?

Ohhh. Fandom has brought up how much John acts like Sherlock here with Wiggins. He’s sarcastic and superior. He’s channeling inner Sherlock here. 

“Well, I’m not NOOOWW.” I love that moment. 

Mary as the pissed off soccer mom driving all the boys home cracks me up. 

“Shazza?”

Damn Molly!!! That’s quite a slap. I’m so proud of her here.  

No one does a pissed off sniff like John. 

Smoll Sherlock in chair.

“Are you trying to put me off?”

“God no, I’m trying to recruit you.” Sounds like Episode 1, Season 1 again.  

So there is much speculation that John is jealous of Janine. I think it makes perfect sense that he would be shocked and slightly taken off guard by the fact that Sherlock has a girlfriend without it necessarily being sexual/romantic jealousy.But I’m not ruling it out. He is so -- confused--. I think I need to switch back to commentary to see what Gatiss, Moffat, et all say.   (I actually went and listened to the commentary. I found these amazing transcripts here. They said that there was an original cut where John looked jealous and they recut it. John’s supposed to be stunned but approving. I don’t think so. I think he’s both excited for Sherlock and feeling left out. If the lesson in “The Empty Hearse” and “The Sign of Three” was that no, Sherlock, everyone just doesn’t stay in place when you leave them, John is learning that now and he does not like it.) 

(Twitter is not the audience, says Moffat. Uh, yah they are,) 

OOhhh White shirt Benedict is my favorite Benedict. 

The expression on both faces as they talk. . . so funny. I think maybe John is slightly relieved? Sherlock becoming Sherl, being domesticated, messing around in the bathroom with a hot chick. . . 

“Dinner, yeah.” John is so funny when they are kissing. He’s not listening to a word, still thinking about Sherlock and Janine. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not pleased to see you.” heheheheheh

Wouldn’t it have been uncomfortable for John to have something that long and hard in his pants this whole time? I’m talking about the tire iron, pervs. 

With the blu ray, I can pause and read the text. Sherlock isn’t mentioned as John’s pressure point. Strange. I think it’s obvious that if you wanted to get to John, getting Sherlock would be easier than getting Harry. 

At least John’s porn preferences are normal. Whatever that means. It should say “Reads Johnlock smut on Ao3″

Apparently so are Sherlock’s although I highly doubt it. 

Seriously? Redbeard again? Dropped so artlessly? 

The pissing in the fireplace ... even Sherlock doesn’t even know how to act. A show of dominance that my Jack Russel would approve of. So fucking funny, 

“Mary and I think seven. See you later.” Again, so funny.. Sherlock and Mary talk even when John and Sherlock don’t. Mary, again, WHY?! You were so awesome. 

This is a beautiful building. 

“Human error.” Oh Sherlock, you bastard!

John’s face!!!!!   Fandom says he’s jealous. I think he’s appalled. He knows exactly what Sherlock has been doing with Janine all along now and is horrified. 

How did Mary get into the penthouse?

I remember yelling so loud when I first saw this episode!

Oh, that was a kill shot. Later Sherlock says it wasn’t but the fact is he actually DIES here. 

So I’m now watching a scene and then listening to/reading commentary. They said the sliding plant is “just to screw with everybody.”  Really? That’s mean. 

Back to scene 4 without commentary on:

John’s face is just joy when he tells Mary that Sherlock has just woken up. But that look on Mary’s face -- no freakin way that it was a warning shot. She wanted Sherlock to die. Maybe she subconsciously wasn’t as lethal as she could have been but she wants him dead. 

Poor Janine! I do like this little scene though. She gets her revenge. But are we supposed to believe she spent the night naked in his bed and then climbed into the bathtub with him and they didn’t have sex? Um, no. 

“I know what kind of man you are.” Seen by fandom as “I know you’re gay.” Supposedly supposed to read, “You;re really a good man at heart and you shouldn’t have lied to me.”

He looks actually -sad- when she leaves. That little blink of realization. And he turns -down- the morphine. 

Oh shit. That moment when John -knows.- John does that with a look. 

-- interrupted here of course. Will do later. --

Okay without the creators’ commentary: I hate hate the projection of Mary shows up on the building facade. I think I start to lose faith in the Sherlock world at that moment. That’s my first time when questioning the director’s and writers’ choices actively interfered with my enjoyment as I was watching it — setting the stage for season 4.

I’m Home from school sick with my daughter AND I’m a mess because I just discovered the Pins and Needles series of fan fiction and stayed up too late reading last night. I dozed off and woke up in time for Tarmac Hell.

Because I have not had my heart pierced by enough arrows today.

[thetirisfaltheatretroupe]

[Script Archive] Hellthreequel: The Third One

<<The following is a play that has been retired from the Tirisfal Theatre’s library, and will only reoccur for private events for the foreseeable future. This script has been placed here so that those who enjoyed the play or wish to perform it themselves may do so. Credit for this comedic performance goes to the Tirisfal Theatre Troupe>>

<Scroll to the bottom for trivia about this play, as well as our original poster!>

<CAST: Garrosh Hellscream, Wrathion, Kairozdormu, Grom Hellscream, Kargath Bladefist, Durotan, Blackhand, Ner’zhul, Kil’rogg Deadeye, Gul'dan, Mar’gok’s Emissary>

<Thrall enters the stage and bows, then begins the opening narration>

[Thrall]: Hellscream… <he shakes his head.> If ever there was a greater mistake for a Warchief, I cannot possibly think of it.  

He escaped justice in Pandaria and fled to an alternate reality, where he was eventually found building an army from the Horde of the past in a land my people.. thought they would never see again.

<he runs a hand down his beard and looks down a moment before looking back to the audience.>

Yet.. was it fate, I wonder, that brought him down before this army could do any real damage?

Or was it just that they were all so very -stupid-?

Ladies and gentlemen, the final chapter in the Hellsqueal trilogy: Hellthreequel: The Third One! Enjoy!

<he bows and leaves the stage>

<The scene opens with Garrosh and Kairoz arriving in a ‘flash of light’ to Nagrand’> <NOTE: Invisibility potion before entering the stage, get in position, and as soon as said ‘flash’ effect happens, cancel the invisibility buff and begin> [Wrathion]: BEHOLD! What our discoveries upon the Timeless Isle have yielded! Through the chaos of the twisting nether, we have warped time and space itself, and created a branch on the tree of time that bore fruit! This fruit…DRAENOR! Uncorrupted. Untainted! Ripe with a powerful race of orcish legends to face off against the Burning Legion itself! [Garrosh]: <scratches his head> Wait a sec, who the Thok are you?

[Wrathion]: Why, I am the one who DOUBTLESSLY crafted this ingenious plan to spirit you away to this alternate timeline! Son of Deathwing and SAVIOR of Azeroth!

Your military charisma will sow the seeds of a grand new Horde! One that will surely be strong enough to square off against the Burning Legion!

[Garrosh]: …so we’re planting a garden? [Kairoz]: <turns to Wrathion> I hate you so very, very much for this. [Wrathion]: Oh what, you think you could come up with a better plan? [Kairoz]: Actually, yeah. I do. Because you’re incompetent. And he’s incompetent. [Garrosh]: Actually, I’m just hungry. This wobbly wibbly wimey timey stuff is murder on the old gut – got anything to eat? Not big on fruit.

[Wrathion]: Look, maybe Garrosh has a point here, Kairoz. Perhaps we are all simply…hungry.

<wrathion claps his hands together>

Yes. I’ll go and get us something to eat, then we can discuss our plan over our meal and a game of charades. Won’t that be FUN? [Kairoz]: It’s really difficult to take the son of Deathwing the Destroyer seriously when your voice cracks that high. [Wrathion]: I’ll just…<points off stage> Go grab us some sandwiches or something… You two have at it for a bit. <walks off stage, sulking> [Kairoz]: <turns to Garrosh> Alright, punk. Listen up. You’re obviously an idiot and a blow hard who can’t be reasoned with. But I need you to throw a wrench into Wrathion’s plan. [Garrosh]: Well, I mean…I guess I could. Only problem is uh…

[Kairoz]: <raises an eyebrow> Well? What seems to be your malfunction, Hellsqueek?

[Garrosh]: Hey, that’s Hellsqueal…I mean Scream! [Kairoz]: And that’s the title drop.

[Garrosh]: Whoa whoa, leave the fourth wall alone! It’s been through enough! [Kairoz]: Answer my question already. What is your issue with me? [Garrosh]: </rudes> Well, I just don’t like your FACE! [Kairoz]: The feeling is mutual, Hellmoan. But I have an idea that I think will work out better than Wrathion’s. Best part is, it’s something even you can’t screw up, BECAUSE it involves you screwing up! Would you be interested? [Garrosh]: Hrm…screwing things up IS what I do best. And momma Hellscream always told me to stick to what you know. What the Thok, I’ll do it!

[Kairoz]: Grand. All you need to do, is deliver a very important message to your father, Grom Hellscream. I-- [Garrosh]: My father? <sobs> MY FATHER IS DEEEEAD! WAH HAH HAH! [Kairoz]: No, no he’s not. Not in this era. [Garrosh]: Wait, huh? Daddy lives?! OH! OH THAT’S GREAT!

We’re gonna go fishing, kick a few gnomes off of cliffs, we’re gonna go Mechano-hog riding, and then we can go to the Darkmoon Faire and ride the little sandbox tigers together! Ooooh, oh oh and camp the Darkmoon Deathmatch too! Oh this is gonna be a great day! [Kairoz]: No no, listen. You need to tell him that everyone on the other side of the Dark Portal is in cahoots with the Burning Legion.

[Garrosh]: Wait, so you’re telling me to tell my dad, who in this era is still a primitive orc from a time when we were neck deep in superstition and so easily fell for the Burning Legion’s lies that the entirety of Azeroth is the demons…

..thus throwing both worlds into an inter-dimensional and inter-space time conflict that could result in...

...thousands of pointless deaths on both sides, repeat the same shit that corrupted my people in the first place, and paint my father once more as a villain in the eyes of history? [Kairoz]: Um… well…yes. Actually. <clears his throat>

That was astonishingly well phrased, Hellmumble.

[Garrosh]: What was well phrased? [Kairoz]: What you just said. [Garrosh]: What did I just say? [Kairoz]: That…that bit about how you telling your father that they are agents of the legion is-- [Garrosh]: <breaks into sobs> DADDY IS DEEEEEAD! Wahaha! [Kairoz]: <sighs heavily> Look, we’re going full circle again. Are you in, or are you out? [Garrosh]: <sniffs and dries his tears> I’m in. [Kairoz]: Good, good. Then remember that no matter what Wrathion says, you’re still to-- [Garrosh]: <turns away> On second thought, I’m out. [Kairoz]: …okay then, perhaps you’d rather-- [Garrosh]: Nevermind, definitely in. <nods> [Kairoz]: Dammit, Garrosh, you’re not a freakin’ cat. [Garrosh]: Fine, fine. I’ll go along with your plan, Kel’thuzad. [Kairoz]: It’s…Kairoz. Kairozdormu. How did you get Kel’thuzad out of―nevermind. Alright, let’s shake on it. Put ‘er there. <holds out his hand> [Garrosh] Okay! <slams his axe into Kairoz’s chest> Oooh! OH! Oops, sorry, I thought you meant―ohhhh… [Kairoz]: You…freaking…nimrod… [Garrosh]: Oh sheesh, that’s a lot of blood. Oh um… Better uh…get out of here before that Wrathion kid comes back. Um…so yeah, we’ve got a deal and uh…take care of yourself. I gotta split.

[Kairoz]: UGggh…

[Garrosh]: UM! I MEAN! I have to cut this short―

[Kairoz]: Aggh…

[Garrosh]: WAIT NO! Let me just get to it, chop-chop-- [Kairoz]: JUST LEAVE ME ALONE TO DIE! PLEASE! NO MORE PUNS! [Garrosh]: Sheesh, no wonder they axed your character so early. Alright, time to go get a slice of vengeance. <exits the stage> [Kairoz]: In my dying moments…what have I unleashed upon the universe? Am I but a cogwheel in the mechanisms of time, forever obscured and greyed upon the golden backdrop? Or did I serve as the spark that lit the flame? Time will tell. Time. Will. Tell. <dies> <Wrathion enters the stage with 2 hoagies in his hand> [Wrathion]: Alright, I was out of tuna, but I did manage some extra Elwynn ham while we were packing the picnic basket. Nothing says teamwork like a team lunch and― <he spots Kairoz’s corpse and drops the sandwiches> By my father’s monolithic chin! What the Thok happened here?!? <he looks side to side, shrugs, and stuffs Kairoz’s corpse in some bushes> Better get out of here, I am NOT going to be taking the fall for this one! <sneaks off stage> <END SCENE>

<Thrall returns to narrate>

[Thrall]: Wrathion was never found. At least, I think.

Garrosh found himself in a strange and yet familiar world, where Draenor was whole, and yet nothing seemed the same as it were.

Thinking himself above Kairozdormu’s plans, he located the Warsong Clan, after stumbling stupidly in the wilderness for some time.

His… sense of direction was never the best... You could put him in a room and tell him to move forward and he'd probably fall straight into the ground instead.

Soon, he stood before Grommash Hellscream, the Chieftan of the Warsong Clan, and..

His own father. However, as he would soon learn, the strangest thing about this world..

Was yet to be revealed. <Thrall leaves. Next scene opens with Garrosh kneeling before Grom> [Garrosh]: Wha…huh? Where am I? I feel like we’re missing some context here. [Grom]: Well, stranger, to better explain your current situation, you um… kind of happened to burst into my Warsong War Tent, screaming something about your father, then you collapsed, woke up, and repeated the cycle. Twice. [Garrosh]: Huh? OH! Oh wait wait, Warsong? I’M Warsong! We’re totally like…family or something! [Grom]: Uh..wait, hold on a moment. I need to get my glasses. [Garrosh]: Glasses? [Grom]: Mhm. One moment. <Grom reaches into his loincloth and puts a monocle on>

There we are. Now I can see you perfectly. Ah, you have the markings of the Warsong upon you. That’s uh…very good. Very, very good. Now we can spare a few expenses with the cleanup since we don’t have to eviscerate you. <Grom turns and waves off stage> False alarm, boys. You can uh…put the mops away. <he returns his focus to Garrosh> Anyway, you’re no Warsong I’ve ever seen. Hrm. Hope you, ahem, have a good reason for being here. [Garrosh]: <rises> Hrm…uh…oh, I had something tell you. It was kind of important. OH! Right! Demons! [Grom]: Care to be a little more specific there? [Garrosh]: Yeah uh…demons and uh. Something about blood, and a really bad drink.

And then there’s this portal that…things come out of. Oh, and there’s this awesome planet called Azeroth that has like tons of resources and stuff you can take to empower the clans to fight against the demons. [Grom]: Hum. I can uh…tell you’re not exactly the…brightest of individuals, but let me see if I can piece together your story.

You’re telling me that there is another world inhabited by demons or demon associates, rich with resources and land, and to unite the clans in order to seize control of this world for the betterment of our people…

…and prepare for the possibility of an invasion from said demons? [Garrosh]: …wait is that what I said? [Grom]: And a bad drink. Well, Gul’dan did send me a missive about some kind of destiny earlier, perhaps that has something to do with him. We’ll deal with that later. Seems like we’ve got a bit of work to do. [Garrosh]: We do? [Grom]: You’re ...kind of a boneheaded little guy, aren’t you? If what you’re saying is true, and considering the chain of events that have unfolded recently, I’d say it’s time indeed to unite the clans.

I uh…have a job for you if you’re willing. [Garrosh]: <throws his hands in the air> Why does everyone want me to do jobs for them? Huh? What ever happened to people getting jobs from ME? [Grom]: I promise not to berate you on your enormous jaw line if you promise to stop whining. [Garrosh]: DEAL! [Grom]: Good. Then I need you to come with me. We’re going to gather the clans, starting with the Shattered Hand. <walks off stage> [Garrosh]: <stands there and picks his nose> My jawline isn’t bad…it’s just big enough to block a few dozen arrows. [Grom]: You uh..might want to get your ass in gear. [Garrosh]: <grumbles> Coming! Sheesh, way you boss me around already you’d think you were my dad or something. <They leave, next scene starts> <The next scene begins narrated by the narrator. Grom and Garrosh approach a hut with Kargath Bladefist sitting in front of it. Thrall bows and begins narrating the scene> [Thrall]: And so it was, The grand idiot Hellscream and his father, whom he was too stupid to realize at the time was in fact his father, made their way to the home of  legendary Kargath Bladefist.

Kargath was the most fierce gladiator of the Highmaul coliseum and chieftain of the Shattered Hand, a clan that was known to be...pretty savage. What Garrosh didn’t know was that this would be the beginning of a journey ridden with harsh trials, actual effort, and strange otherworldy accents. Hrm…why does that sound so familiar? <Narrator shrugs and leaves the stage> [Grom]: Alright, Garrosh. I’d like you to let me do the talking, if you don’t mind. [Garrosh]: Wait, then why did you even need me to come here? I could have been watching my goblin soaps―erm… I mean, crushing our enemies! [Grom]: That’s uh…well and good, but I need to be able to point to you when Kargath asks me who this prophet who informed me of this ‘Azeroth’ is. You understand. [Garrosh]: What’s an Azeroth? [Grom]: …I’m uh, just going to give you the benefit of the doubt and presume you hit your head as a child. [Garrosh]: Yeah, that’s probably for the best, not gonna lie. [Grom]: Hm. Well. Anyway. <turns to Kargath>

Lok’tar, chief of the fearsome Shattered Hand. I’ve come to you with dire news. Gul’dan plans to betray us at the summit. [Bladefist]: <grunts and rises to his feet, speaking in a deep, gravelly tone> Well that’s pretty Thokin’ savage of him. Just, y’know, not in the cool way.

Not surprised though, guys was always kinda a giant ogre sack. Uh…oh yeah, speaking of… who the hell is the walking phallus? <gestures to Garrosh> [Grom]: Oh, him. Uh. He’s the uh…prophet that came from another time and place to warn me of Gul’dan’s treachery. [Bladefist]: And you’re just gonna uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…roll with that, right? [Grom]: That would be the plan. Yes. [Bladefist]: <takes a deep breath> Yeaaaah I'm not gonna lie, this sounds like the kind of crap Ner’zhul would make up. Not really you, Grom, never really pegged ya for a uh… for an ordinary Grokoff like that. But hey, I’m always up to kick some ass. That’s doable. [Garrosh]: …hey uh…can I pull you aside real fast here? [Grom]: I’m kind of busy, Garrosh, can it wait?

[Garrosh]: NO! [Grom]: <sighs> One moment, Kargath. [Bladefist]: Naaah, it's whatever, not like I was doing anything with my day.

Hey, I’ll go get the rest of the guys while you deal with this giant clefthoof pile. We’ll all meet you at the Warsong place with that big ass campfire indoors, maybe dice up a coupla ogres and give it a paint job. <waves and walks off stage> [Grom]: Alright, what? [Garrosh]: So uh…not sure if you noticed. Really don’t want to alarm you but… [Grom]: But? [Garrosh]: <points in the direction Kargath walked in> That guy’s only got one arm. [Grom]: …yeah? [Garrosh]: It’s gross! In my Horde, we’d just execute the weak and injured who couldn’t fight to my standards. Well, that assumes I had standards, but…point stands. [Grom]: I uh…assure you, Garrosh, Kargath is definitely the kind of chief we would benefit from the favor of. That, and he’s a grand warrior, I can assure you. As for your ‘Horde’, well, I guess we can see why you’re here, now. There comes a time when we need to learn from our mistakes and iron them out. <turns away> Iron. Iron. Hm… Iron.

Horde. Iron Horde, okay, someone write that down. <walks off stage> [Garrosh]: <stops in his tracks> …but…it was my idea. I should get to name it. <walks after him> <Scene ends> <The next scene opens with Garrosh and Grom gathered before all the Warlords> [Bladefist]: So I went out and gathered these Grokoffs while you two were busy makin’ out or something, buncha time wasting pieces of…pieces of shit. [Grom]: Good. That should allow us to get a start on the task at hand. Garrosh, I want you to meet my fellow chieftans. You already know Kargath. [Bladefist]: Bite me, gronn scrotum. [Grom]: Over here we have Chief Blackhand. He leads the Blackrock clan. [Blackhand]: Ands I haves the most sexiests accents of any orcs. [Garrosh]: …why does he sound like that goblin I ordered pandaren food from and tipped with a booterang to the head? [Grom]: Kilrogg Deadeye, lord of the jungle and the Bleeding Hollow. [Kilrogg]: Eeh, more like lord of the deence reely, not much for lordin’ over mosquitoes and stuff. Suckin’ all the blood outta them veens of mine, really bites when yer tryin’a geet a buzz. [Grom]: Here is Durotan, lord of the frostwolf clan of Frostfire Ridge. [Durotan]: <in a REALLY high pitch voice> Ifs yous gots an ass, I’LL KICKS IT! [Garrosh]: Hey, you sound like Blackhand sorta. Cept really squeaky! Are you two brothers or something?

[Both Blackhand and Durotan]: Nos relations.

<Both of them stare at one another for a moment and blink> [Blackhand]: Stops copies mes. [Durotan]: No yous stops copies MES! [Blackhand]: You stops copies MES, you bigs boar piles! [Durotan]: Wells you knows whats they says, immitamations ams the best forms of flatteries, so I guess yous ams just beings really nices to mes. [Garrosh]: …wow. And here I thought I talked like a moron. I can forsee this getting annoying really quickly. [Grom]: Now that we’ve uh…done role call, I think now we should move on to the most important matter at hand. Gul’dan is-- [Ner'zhul]: AHEM! [Garrosh]: I think the wind just talked. [Grom]: Hrm. Oh, of course. I completely forgot. That’s Ner’zhul. Shadowmoon chieftan. Anyway, as I was say-- [Ner'zhul]: Oh thok you, sthtuck up ath-hole! I’m tha betht there ith at thhhhadow magic, so fathe it – you need me. [Garrosh]: <wipes off his face> He spat on me like three times just trying to say shadow. [Kilrogg]: Must be a new experience, meeting someone dumber’n you, eh big guy? <nudges Garrosh> [Garrosh]: Yeah, how does it feel Kargath? [Bladefist]: <grunts> Go uh…jump of a damn cliff or something, I dun really care, whatever… [Grom]: Let’s uh…remember why we’re here now. We’ve got to focus, boys. Gul’dan plans to deceive us at the summit coming up.

We need to teach him that nobody, um, pardon my language, ‘thoks’ with our people and gets away with it.

Make an example out of him. Honestly, it’s the best move, considering if we don’t, he’s likely to cause…utter panic and havoc anyway. [Ner'zhul]: Ugh…Gul’dan things he’s shoooo cool with his fancy green magic and thtuff. [Bladefist]: Yeah but uh…that shit ain’t easy to deal with. Like uh…it burns.

Pretty bad. Y’know, like…fire or something. [Blackhand]: Yeahs, excepts the fires cans actually damages me! I used to haves a full heads of hairs, then I calleds hims a rylakk's flacid you-know-whats. Then IT HURTS MES! [Durotan]: And its ams nots the best ways to cooks your boar meats. I trieds once and gots a tummys aches. I does nots recommends its, unless you likes your meats super spiced.

[Garrosh]: Oh, OH OH! I have a plan! I have a plan! [Grom]: Well, considering your insight into the future, Garrosh, I would say you have the best chance at coming up with a successful plan. I’ll uh…put my faith in you for this one. [Garrosh]: Yeah, it’s gonna be great! No no, just follow my lead, okay? Every last one! First, we build giant…

Metal…

Balls! [Bladefist]: …yeah, this plan’s already sounding thokkin’ stupid, but I ain’t got nothing better to do this afternoon.

<end scene>

<The narrator comes on stage>

[Thrall]: Garrosh then told them of the technology he’d amassed in his rule over Orgrimmar. He spent days and days trying to figure out how they worked – until finally, he found the power switch... It was then that he knew just what he had to do. And on that fateful night, when the orcs were supposed to be corrupted by the demon blood offered by Gul’dan, the very same that plagued my people, something quite different happened than what history originally foretold! <Thrall leaves the stage> <The scene opens with Grom and Garrosh walking to the summit together. Garrosh is wearing a cloth hood> [Grom]: I’ve been uh…meaning to ask. Why? [Garrosh]: Huh? Oh, why the sexy hood? It’s to make me look mysterious and build up my musk and sweat. [Grom]: Neither of those applications seem very well thought out. How do you think that’s going to help us in the fight against Gul’dan? [Garrosh]: It’s supposed to help? [Grom]: Nevermind. He’s already here. I can smell him from where I stand. [Garrosh]: Huh? Oh, that’s just me. I haven’t taken a bath since before the last play we did. [Grom]: Well, we’ll uh…have to have a chat about that later. Here he is…in all his unholy, befouled foolishness. <The sky rains green fire and Gul’dan appears in a blaze of fel glory> [Gul'dan]: Whoohoooo! I’m Gul’dan, the Lock and Roll orc! I TAINT ARCAAAAANE! [Garrosh]: He puts his taint on a cane? That’s gotta hurt. [Grom]: No, he taints arcane. From what you told me, that’s what this ‘fel’ is, right? Honestly, it sounds a bit easier to roll off the tongue, so we’ll have to patent that.

[Garrosh]: Nah, for some reason I like “I taint arcane”! Lets me get to know the guy better! Like what his hobbies are. Do you think he likes playing cards?

[Grom]: Let’s make this quick. What do you want from us, Gul’dan? [Gul'dan]: <approaches Grom and Garrosh> Kek kek kek kek yayeah, I just want you to drink this here green stuff and join my army of the depraved and fel touched! I TAINT ARCAAAANE! [Garrosh]: We heard you the first time, and that STILL sounds uncomfortable as hell! [Grom]: Well uh, let’s consider the ups and the downs. From what you told me, Gul’dan, this drink will give us phenomenal strength and power. [Gul'dan]: That’s kek kek kek kek right, baby! C’mon and join the legion – we got all sorts of demon hunnies here to cuddle with when you’re rulin’ over creation! <walks up to Garrosh and whispers> Seriously, man, LOTTA arcane! Turns ya all green and stuff! [Garrosh]: Just call it fel! It SOUNDS cooler than a cane’s taint! [Grom]: Hrm. Great power. Power is something all orc legends have, this is true, BUT…what, Gul’dan, do we have to give in return? [Gul'dan]: Aw, it ain’t much baby. Just a lil’ bit of…

KEK KEK KEVERY THING! [Grom]: Huh. Well, I was afraid of that. Judging by the uh…unfair and one sided contract involved with being enslaved to a force of universal tyrants, I believe it is in the Iron Horde’s best interest to refuse your offer.

[Garrosh]: Hrmph. I liked Garrosh’s Horde better… [Gul'dan]: Awww, come on, baby! You know you wannaaaaa! [Grom]: No. And if you call me baby one more time, what we do to you next will hurt a lot more. [Gul'dan]: What do you kek kek kek mean? [Garrosh]: <turns off stage> NOW! <Kargath, Blackhand, Durotan, Ner’zhul, and Kilrogg all come on stage and encircle Gul’dan, then begin beating him up>

NOTE: All target him and use ‘the pigskin’ in close proximity to make it look like they're beating him up> [Kilrogg]: Teek that ya green arse! [Blackhand]: Yous ams nots my REAL DADS! [Durotan]: This ams for the wolves, you big bloated broccolis! [Ner'zhul]: Yeah, and don’t forget who thent ya runnin home to yer mother! [Grom]: Alright, boys, that’s enough. Load him into the Iron Canon. [Gul'dan]: <twitching> Kek kek kek whaaaa?! No no no, anything but the canon, baby! I’ll do anehthing! <they walk Gul’dan over to the appointed ‘canon fire’ spot and Gul’dan gets loaded up. NOTE: Gul'dan actor must have obtained Darkmoon Cannon toy) (Additional Note: Canon is mispelled on purpose, explanation in Trivia)> [Ner'zhul]: FIRE IN THE THOKING HOLE! [Gul'dan]: THIS WAS NOT OUR KEK KEK DESTINYYYYYYYYYYYY! <gets fired out of the play area> [Garrosh]: Yes! My plan worked! My plan that I so carefully cooked up! NO ONE could have thought to shoot Gul’dan out of a cheap canon! I’m such a genius! [Kilrogg]: <grumbles> Anyone else wanna fire dis guy outta one’a dem canons too? [Durotan]: I mean sortas, cuz WOW-WEE he’s a dingbat. [Grom]: Boys, boys. Stop. No more fighting, okay? We should celebrate this union of the clans overcoming Gul’dan’s treachery.

Oh, and uh…Ner’zhul, gonna need you to retrieve his unconscious body wherever he lands. We kind of still need it to rip over a dimensional gateway through time and space. [Ner'zhul]: Thoking theriouthly? Thith blowths… <Ner'zhul exits in the direction Gul'dan was fired> [Grom]: Now let’s all go and celebrate our success with a big barrel of cherry grog. Then afterwards, discuss how we move forward. [Kilrogg]: Eh, sounds kinda borin, but…there’s booze involved so count me in I guess. <the warlords all leave the stage, except Garrosh> [Garrosh]: <sighs heavily> Me me…<sigh> Pick me... <walks after them, unenthused> <end scene> <The next scene opens with the Warlords all at a meeting of the minds…or lack of minds, rather> [Grom]: Alright, so brainstorming session. How can we drive the Iron Horde war machine ever forward? Let's toss some ideas around, chop chop. Let's move.

[Ner'zhul]: Well I think we should justh call the Dark Sthtar, kill them all and enslave their SOULS--!

[Bladefist]: Damn it Ner'zhul, we told you to close your mouth when you speak, Thokin spitting everywhere...

[Blackhand]: Yeah, no ones really gives a shits anyways, Ner'zhuls. Why ams you even HERES?

[Durotan]: I gives a shits!

[Blackhand]: You takes a shits ams more likes it.

[Bladefist]: Yeah, you...<grumble> Damn tryhard, always trying too hard and shit...

[Kilrogg]: Oh wait, now that I theenk of it, Kargath, you had a friggin' awesome idea earlier, deedn't ya?

[Bladefist]: Huh? Oh, oh, yeah I was just thinking that...if I we like all had blades or something for hands, we wouldn't be disarmed, uh...yknow?"

[Blackhand]: Jah, likes I coulds puts my hammers on my hands and I could go FWOOSH BOOM BURN CRUNCH, TAKES THAT IMPREGNATORS MAR'GOK!"

[Durotan]: Oooh, ands Is coulds puts myselfs an extra axe on my hands whats could helps me chops firewood without havings to hauls it around likes a dead animals!

[Bladefist]: Yeah like, you wouldn't have to Idunno, pick it up or whatever cuz it's always there.

[Ner'zhul]: Yeah but--

[Blackhand]: No one CARES, NERZ'ZHULS! <chucks a prop at him (NOTE: Tree trinket from Stormheim is perfect for this – no one expects it>

[Grom]: Boys, I've told you this before. We cannot replace all of your limbs with blades. Oh, and they're right, Ner'zhul, no one really cares.

[Ner'zhul]: Thok…

[Bladefist]: Aw come ooooooon, why nooooot?

[Grom]: Because then you wouldn't be able to walk or pick things up.

[All of Them]: ....soooooooooooooooooooooooooo?

[Garrosh]: Alright, I've got a better idea. What if we all...just focus entirely on making tons of single use, really expensive and time consuming to construct and barely better than a large catapult explosive Iron Stars?

[Grom]: Hum...I...hardly think that would be an efficient use of resources, especially when you brought over schematics for far more uh...impressive machines.

[Bladefist]: Look, Grom, we'll make a deal with you.

We promise to stop asking to have weapons grafted onto our limbs - except for me, because I'm above all this - IF...you make all those Thokin’ Iron Stars, cuz that sounds savage as thok. Only good idea he's come up with, really.

And...OOH OOH, make a big ass canon too that we can fire it out of!

[Grom]: Um...sure, I suppose a massive canon and siege carrier of some sort could be made. It would certainly help bringing along our various turrets and--

[Bladefist]: No no, see, that's the best part - make this thing ONLY a big canon to shoot Iron Stars with.

And like, make it only go forward, so when people see it coming, they're like "Ooooooh. Ooooh noooooo! Everythiiiing in this general direction is screwwwwwwed!"

[Grom]: Look, if you allow me to have a few smaller defensive canons mounted to it, will you shut up about it?

<The Warlords all nod>

[Durotan]: Hey, cans I names it in that case? I wants to names it after my mothers wolves whats dieds when I was just a boys.

[Grom]: Fine, what was the wolf's name?

[Durotan]: Worldsbreakers.

[Blackhand]: You ams lyings, your wolfs had pansy ass name like White fangs or some shits!

[Durotan]: Hey don'ts you calls hims that you big melting rlyak dongs! I'LL KILLS YAS!

[Kilrogg]: I dunno, I kinda like Worldbreeker and stuff. But can we paint fleemin' stripes all over it and stuff?

[Garrosh]: I'd prefer the name "Garrosh's Idea". Since it was MY idea!

[Bladefist]: Hell no! We may as well call it the Grokoff's left nut if we're gonna do that.

[Ner'zhul]: HYEAH! Or the Pain in my Asth!

[Grom]: Garrosh, perhaps you should let me have the floor. [Garrosh]: But it's MY IDEA!

[Grom]: <points off-stage> You've done enough, now go.

[Garrosh]: <cries and walks away, stomping his feet and throwing a fit> Was MY idea! MINE! Nobody talks that way to me, ARGH! <kicks a marmot into the crowd, use marmot toy from Valley of the Four Winds>

[Kilrogg]: Gee there, you...kinda think we hurt tha poor guys' feelings?

[Bladefist]: Are you kidding me? That douchebag's been nothing but whine whine whine since he first showed up. Build a portal thiiiiis, unite the clans thaaaat, waaah waaah waaah!

[Grom]: Hrm. Well, to be fair, you guys, without Garrosh, none of this would be happening right now.

[Blackhand]: Yes, but withouts Garrosh nows we can actually takes the plans and makes it GOODS! I did not sees him suggests anythings after the Worldbreaker that woulds have covereds the glaring flaws it hads!

[Durotan]: OH, wow-wees! You guys ams usings my name ideas after alls? <gasp>

Oooh I'm so happyyyys!

[Bladefist]: Look, bottom line and I'm gonna level with you...<pauses and throws his arms to the side, the Bladefist prop flying into the crowd>

We can't work with this dildo! He smells like he came out of a clefthoof's asshole, tries to turn good war plans into shit war plans, has this fetish for giant steel balls of flaming glory, and he keeps drinking the Thokin kafa!

[Grom]: We wouldn't even be having this conversation right now if not for Garrosh. Now look around you and see this? See this Iron Horde we've made?

It's all because of him. Now I suggest you all be mature and not try to screw things up. We still need his help.

<Ner'zhul opens his mouth to speak>

[Grom]: And no, Ner'zhul, you're not more useful than he is. I suggest you reflect on that for a moment and think about what you were about to say.

[Ner'zhul]: ....THHHHHHHHHHHHHHOK!

<end scene> <Thrall enters the stage, with Garrosh moping by the edge> [Thrall]: Garrosh finally came to a grim realization that…No one liked him! <He shrugs.> …well, it was a realization to -him-, you must understand. Garrosh sat all alone with pitiful self under the skies of Nagrand, until he was soon joined by his father. There, he realized humility for the first time in his arrogant stupid life. <Thrall bows and leaves> [Garrosh]: <sniff> No one gives me credit for anything anymore. [Grom]: <approaches from off-stage> Garrosh. Mind if we uh…have a little talk? Little man to man, as they say? [Garrosh]: <sniff> No… [Grom]: <sits down next to Garrosh> Look, I understand you came here to warn us of this invading legion, and help us mount a counter-strike out of the honor in your heart. But we’ve got a job to do here. Everyone has to play their part, you hear? [Garrosh]: <sniff> No. [Grom]: Are you just going to say no to everything I say in an attempt to emotionally wall yourself off from what is happening right now? [Garrosh]: …n…ye…maybe.

[Grom]: What I’m trying to say is…despite how hard I've been on you, we need you. So with that said, I’d like to give you a gift for helping us out. [Garrosh]: <sniffle> Is it a pony? [Grom]: A what now? [Garrosh]: Oh, right, see, Azeroth has these things called horsies and there are smaller ones called ponies. I can’t explain why but I REALLY want one.

My own…little…pony. [Grom]: That’s….fascinating. Anyway, no, I want to give you control of the Warsong clan while I act as Warchief of the Iron Horde. [Garrosh]: <eyes widen> You want to appoint me Warchef so I can cook all the delicious food for the Iron Horde? I could be…the IRON CHEF! [Grom]: Ahm, no, not exactly. What I mean is-- [Garrosh]: I ACCEPT! [Grom]: <shrugs> Good enough for me. Alright then, Garrosh, I trust you to lead us to victory. [Garrosh]: Hah, you underestimate me! I’ll be the best Warchef ever! <end scene> <Thrall returns to the stage and bows> [Thrall]: He was not the best Warchef ever. Nor ….Warchief for that matter.

He stayed in Nagrand for many months as the rest of the Iron Horde prepared for war without him. It…did things to him. And he soon regretted his decision. In time, a vangard from the future – that is to say, our timeline - came to bring Garrosh back to Azeroth to face justice. It didn’t exactly end well for Garrosh…

<he pulls out his mace and straightens up> <Thrall bows and enters the stage. Garrosh and Thrall face each other down for the last time> [Thrall]: It is time to answer for your crimes, Garrosh. I’m going to end what I should have ended long ago… [Garrosh]: No. NO NO NO, stop taking credit for everything I do! [Thrall]: …I’ll wait till your impending tantrum is over. [Garrosh]: <points> I am sick of this blame game! Credit where credit is due, this is NOT your fault! It’s mine, ALL MINE! And I love it! [Thrall]: You…hit your head on the way over here, didn’t you? [Garrosh]: <paces back and forth> All these years, I was built up by you, from the moment we met in Nagrand. You told me I was destined to follow in my father’s footsteps. Well guess what?

I DID! And it was all me. [Thra;;]: No, Garrosh. You are not worthy of calling yourself the son of Grom. [Garrosh]: That’s the thing – do you even KNOW what Grom was really like? You practically just met him when you started hailing him as a hero! Spent what, a few weeks with him, tops? See, I’ve gotten to know the real Grom over the past few months. He’s a freakin’ deadpan! Always business, never “Hey son, you wanna go fishing?” and “THOK YEAH I WANNA GO FISHING!” Then he dumped this job on me just to keep me away from the action. Seriously, I haven’t seen a fight in WEEKS!

Just sittin’ here with my thumbs up my ass, ordering around these primitive Warsong warriors who were too stupid to work the tech we’re using in Tanaan! I can’t even get them to clip my thokking toenails properly! WHAT KIND OF BASS AKWARDS PEON CAN’T CLIP TOENAILS?! [Thrall]: …I am…not going to lie, I feel very uncomfortable right now. Should we just…continue this later or…? [Garrosh]: NO! We end this now! And I’m going to slay you. I’M going to be the one to get credit for killing the mighty Thrall! And you’re going to bask in the irony that you made me what I am, dammit! [Thrall]: …so it IS my fault? [Garrosh]: No, it’s mine! [Thrall]: Okay, then there’s not much irony for me to bask in, there. Gonna be honest. [Garrosh]: Fine, then it’s your fault! [Thrall]: No, because you chose your own destiny. [Garrosh]: LA LA LA LA, DON’T CARE, FIGHT TIME! [Thra;;]: Alright, alright. Just to be clear, these are traditional Mak'gora rules, right? Just weapons, no armor, just loincloths, maybe some...oil and low lighting- or…?

<he starts to unbuckle his belt> [Garrosh]: I don’t have TIME to take off my pants! Fight now! [Thrall]: Gotcha! MOCK'gora it is then. <Use Akunda's Firesticks if outdoors around the stage. Otherwise, be creative with this one. A storm opens up around the stage, and Garrosh stares into the sky at it> [Garrosh]: Oh… oh damn, I should have specified… [Thrall]: Any last words, Garrosh? [Garrosh]: <puts up his middle finger> Thok you, and thok the horse you rode in on!

<Garrosh is struck and dies dramatically> [Thrall]: At last.. It is over, the rein of <sniffs the air, gagging > Oh...Oh spirits.…I- BEUGH- made him smell even worse! Now he smells like BURNT worg ass.

Ohh....Ancestors...I need to go over here..

<he walks off to the side to catch his breath.> <Thrall leaves the stage, scene ends> <After the stage has been cleared, Thrall comes onto the stage one final time and bows> [Thrall]: And so...Garrosh’s tale had finally ended. But the legacy he’d set in motion could not be undone.

As the Iron Horde began to lose to the Vangard that followed Garrosh, Grom was meeting with an emissary of the Ogre Empire when he learned of how the Warlords were failing… <Narrator bows and walks off stage. Enter Grom and the Emissary of Mar’gok> [Grom]: Alright, so for Mar’gok’s cooperation prior to his fall, we’ll allow you all to continue hosting those coliseum games so long as you agree to advertise via the Iron Horde’s new logo. I’m thinking of slapping it on every seat in the house. [Ogre Emissary]: Uh…da sorcerers not gonna like dat too much. Dey tink it look dumb... [Grom]: Well you can tell them it was your idea then, and that you already signed the papers for them. Also tell them that if they to improve negotiations in their favor, they should come to these meetings themselves. [Ogre Emissary]: Hrm…OKAY! Sound good! Anything else you need me tell dem? [Grom]: Yes. Tell them to have their forces take baths more often. We’re savage, not animals. Mar’gok would agree if he were alive.

[Ogre Emissary]: Dat sound like bad idea… [Grom]: Again, tell them it was your idea. <Kilrogg bursts into the room> [Kilrogg]: Hey um…theenk ya should see this here report from tha field, Grommy boy. [Grom]: Not now, Kilrogg. I’m in the middle of ogre negotiations. You know how taxing it can be to lower my intelligence enough to negotiate with them. [Ogre Emissary]: HEY! Dat not nice! [Grom]: Well it was your idea, big guy. You uh…may want to just point those fingers at yourself. [Ogre Emissary]: Huh? Oh, me not very nice. [Kilrogg]: Um…just so ya knows then? Blackheend is dead. [Ogre Emissary]: …me sensing lots of tension. Me go now. [Grom]: Hrm. Probably for the best. We’ll continue this another time. <The ogre nods and leaves> [Grom]: So Blackhand fell in battle? [Kilrogg]: Well, in battle aaand about three floors through that feency foundry of his. Can’t tell if he did it himself or someone just hit ‘im REEEEEALLY hard through that there floor of his. [Grom]: Huh. That’s…quite a sizable loss. Without the foundry, we can’t make more weapons. Inform Kargath right away to salvage any weapons we’ve distributed to the Spires of Arak and bring them to our forces in Tanaan.

[Kilrogg]: That’s another thing. He’s uh…dead too. [Grom]: What? Kargath Bladefist? That doesn’t seem plausible. [Kilrogg]: Yeah, died in the arena against some small army. Was like…ten…or thirty people or sumpin like that what took ‘im down. Kinda cool, actually. I was watchin’ the whole thing, was badass. [Grom]: You…watched one of your fellow Warlords die? [Kilrogg]: Yeah? Gotta entertain myself with sumpin, right? [Grom]: Ugh…well maybe we can ask Durotan to-- [Kilrogg]: Oh uh…yeah, about that, shortly after our meetin’, he started having second thoughts about joinin the Iron Horde, and uh…called yas a giant assmelt and left with his middle fingers held high, went beek home. Not gonna lie, I think he was just here for the kickass war banner. We should probably just pretend he was never there. [Grom]: Hrm. Well, that’s not a terrible loss I guess. The others, yeah, but we can survive without the Frostwolf clan. What of Ner’zhul? [Kilrogg]: He’s dead too. [Grom]: Unsurprising. Did he at least die with dignity? [Kilrogg]: Kinda hard to have dignity when you get killed by five grokoffs in your own dimension of void powers. [Grom]: This…this is a pretty unrecoverable loss. Please, allow me a customary moment of silence for my men. [Gul'dan]: <enters> KEK KEK KEK KEK YAYEAH! Gul'dan gonna make ALL your dreams come true, Grom baby! Hows about you guys come and take some of this here sweeeeeeeeet fel blood? Oooooooooooh! <Gul'dan places a cauldron between them (NOTE: Goblin Gumbo toy is best, but flask cauldron or dragon feast works>

[Kilrogg]: OOH, PUNCH! [Grom]: You’ve got to be―who the hell let this guy in?! We told you before, Gul’dan, we don’t want your damned poison! [Kilrogg]: No no, you see man, it’s bloodbooze, gotta get it right. It’s booze made of blood that makes ya all strong and freaky and stuff. [Grom]: I don’t care what it’s called, frankly. Garrosh told us it would enslave us, and-- [Kilrogg]: Oh, yeah, forgot to tell ya uh…he’s dead too. [Grom]: …so you are literally my only high operative in the Iron Horde now? [Kilrogg]: Hey, I uh…I’m just teelin’ it like it ees. [Grom]: <deep breaths and rubs his temple> We’re literally on the cusp of ruin here, and all I have to help is Kilrogg Deadeye. What do you even DO?

[Kilrpgg]: Well I uh…lots of…stuff, I mean I can…do a little jig? Would that make ya happeh? < Kil'rogg /dances>

I mean, I’m great at drinkin’ games. Watch, I’ll prove it! Betcha anything I can chug that bloodbooze no sweat! [Grom]: No, wait, KILROGG DON’T! <Kilrogg takes Gul’dan’s felbood and chugs it>

KILROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGG!!! [Gul'dan]: CHUG CHUG CHUG! Kek kek kek beautiful, baby! [Kilrogg]: <belches fel> See? Wasn’ so beed, just a bit spicy is all, I mean I can hold my liquor. Though I do kinda have this urge to serve Gul’dan now, and the legion. I mean, aside from that, I’m fine. [Grom]: <kneels down> Kilrogg…you idiot. [Gul'dan]: You can’t kek kek kek win, Grom! My fel drink is just too good! I TAINT ARCANE! [Grom]: I have lost…everything. [Gul'dan]: Aww, it’s okay Grommy baby, cuz you still got uuuuuuuus~! [Kilrogg]: Yeah, I mean why not just drink it yourself? This shit feels thokkin’ great, my bulging Bleeding Hollow dangledonger ain’t never felt so big. You gotta try this, it’s…It’s just good, man, try it. <suddenly Ner’zhul appears floating as a ghost> [Ner'zhul]: FINALLY, Got thith plan to thokking work! Now I’m an immortal thpirit and can command the armieth of the DAMNED without ever getting hurt mythelf! It’s a pretty good plan if I do thay though mythelf. [Grom]: <shakes his head at Ner’zhul> Too late, Ner’zhul. Far too late. [Ner'zhul]: <looks over at Kilrogg who grins and waves> Aw THOK no! I did not intentionally die to make mythelf one with the void JUTHT to have thith happen! I’m calling my agent! <floats off stage> [Grom]: I uh…better follow him. I’m his agent’s agent, so… <sneaks away> [Kilrogg]: Huh…hey uh…shouldn’t we go after them? [Gul'dan]: It’s kek kek kek cool, baby! We’ll get ‘em some other time! <walks off stage> I TAINT ARCANE! [Kilrogg]: Hey, works for me. And uh…to all you slackoffs in the audience, I take fan mail in booze-a-grams and vouchers for brew of the month. <Scene ends, all leave the stage>>

<Thrall enters the stage> [Thrall]: And thus ended the tale of Garrosh Hellscream. His charred remains forever forgotten in the place in which is tale began, those many moons ago...

Except in another timeline entirely. One that we will likely never have to see or speak of again..BUT!

His legacy endured. For it was due to him that we fought and bested the Legion, just that it was a lot sooner and lot more costly than we would have hoped!

And as we fight on into the future, Horde, never forget...

<Hellscream suddenly ‘floats’ onto the stage as a ghost and waves then /dances, the narrator points at him>

<Thrall points to Garrosh very sternly and then looks to the audience.> It was his fault! SERIOUSLY! THOK THIS GUY! [Garrosh]: Hey, at least people are going to remember I actually did this one, right? [Thrall]: <facepalms> For the love of....THE. END! THAT’S IT! NO MORE! HELLSQUEAL ONE, TWO, THREEQUEL, NO PREQUEL! NO SPIN OFF, NO VERSION WHERE WE GET TO SEE HOW I'M DOING.WE’RE DONE! THAT’S IT! -SHOOS- IT’S OVER! YOU CAN ALL GO FIGHT NOW! WE’RE DONE, THERE’S NO MORE! THAT’S IT! NADDA! DONE! <Thrall wanders off screen muttering>

[Garrosh]: <looks to the audience and shrugs> Hey, at least I made it interesting, right? Good night, Snorehowl bless, and don’t forget to poke holes in all your rubbers…

Rubber ducks, that is. Thok ducks.

Uh…

<he waves at the crowd>

Later.

<Garrosh’s ghost vanishes (use invisibility potion)> <END>

TRIVIA

Hellthreequel was originally part of Hellsequel, but realizing the play would last far too long and there being more we wanted to do with the courtroom scene, we split the plays. Regardless of this fact, it still took years for us to actually have the cast size needed for this play.

Hellthreequel boasts the largest on-stage cast requirement of any of our plays, with the largest scenes having anywhere between 7-8 characters needed on stage at a time. Some scenes made it impossible to have the proper numbers, so we wrote flexibly in those scenes, such as the first meeting of Gul’dan, so we could drop our numbers when needed.

This play was only ever performed twice. Since we were retiring the first two, however, we felt it would be improper to keep this one around too, since so many jokes build upon references from Hellsqueal and Hellsequel.

In our last run of this play, WoW’s very own in-game cinematics project director Terran Gregory attended the show, and even recorded a portion of the play on his Twitch channel! Needless to say it was a surprising honor!

Many (see; Almost all) of the jokes in Hellthreequel regarding the Warlords was based upon the fictional Death Metal band “Dethklok”, and their show formally on Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim block “Metalocalypse”. The personalities of the main cast of that show were given to each of the Warlords, but we made sure to write them in a way where their banter and lines were still funny out of context. Even the poster, done by @shamanofthewilds much like Hellsequel’s poster, was a reference to it!

Kargath Bladefist was “Nathan Explosion” (Kargath Orcsplosion), the gravelly voiced vocalist of the band.

Durotan was “Toki Wartooth” (Durotoki), the happy-go-lucky animal petting ‘why the hell is he even with these guys’ member of the group.

Blackhanz was “Skwissgar Skwigelf” (Blackhanz). Contrary to some crew member’s confusion as to why the blonde, long haired guitarist of Dethklok would be played by a bald orc, we added a line about how Blackhand used to have hair, which is actually true. Also, Hanz’gar and Franzok kind of opened the gates of hell by introducing out-of-setting accents to the Blackrock clan, so we had fun with it.

Kilrogg Deadeye was “Pickles the Drummer” (Kilrogg the Deadeye), the booze and drug addled drummer and voice of reason, but not by much.

Ner’zhul was “William Murderface”, the bass player. Just based on what he plays, one should gather what the joke was.

Grom was “Charles Offdensen”, the straight-faced, no-nonsense business minded manager of the band.

And of course, Gul’dan was Dr. Rockzo, the rock and roll clown. He does cocaine. 

Speaking of, many of the quirks of Dr. Rockzo’s zany behavior was added to Gul’dan, including his catch phrases, and adapted of course to the WoW setting. “K-k-k (yeah)” became “Kekkekkek”, effectively the same sound, but referencing the in-game language barrier, and “I do cocaine” was changed to “I taint arcane”, since fel is technically tainted arcane energy. That, and “I do fel” didn’t seem to have the same appeal.

Despite these massively out-of-world references, as with any references we put into our plays, we worked hard to make sure they made sense in-character, but also gave ourselves freedom enough to have fun with it. While Hellsequel was Atos’s favorite overall, Threequel remains Atos’s favorite to have written.