#sticks me in a feedback loop of just feeling sad like i need someone to tell me to shut up

[the-pigeon]

must... stop..... convincing.... myself...... that all of my friends....... hate me.......

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 14

Word Count: 3,417

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning, Pens, Jackets, Canes, Islanders

Notes: Well, here we are onto another part of Bubble Wrapped. When we last left this story, our reader had just had a magical date with Matt Barzal. Will she stick with him of go looking for someone new to hook up. So I’m hoping the wrap this story up in a couple more parts. As always feedback is greatly appreciated and wanted…hahaha! Luv ya all!! Happy Reading to all! Also sorry for posting this late. I’ll queue for tomorrow afternoon as well.

As soon as you said goodbye to Mat, you checked on how things were going at the hotel. Tomorrow would be another hectic day as the Canes would be moving out and the Islanders moving in, and you wanted to make sure everything was in order. By the time you got up to the suite, both Dougie and Svech were already upstairs in their room, though you found Joel over at the bar pouring himself a dram of one the most expensive whiskeys you had.

 “Don’t worry, you can bill me or I’ll have a bottle shipped here to replace it,” he said before taking a healthy swallow of the strong spirit.

 “I’m not worried about it. Pour me one if you don’t mind.”

 “Really? Never took you for a whiskey girl.”

 “My father taught me to appreciate it,” you told him taking the glass he offered, then sipping the amber liquid. “And well, this is something that should be appreciated. Sorry about the game.”

 “I’m not sure you are.”

 “And what does that mean exactly?”

 Joel eyed you suspiciously. “Please after that little scene downstairs. I’m sure you’ll be happy to be rid of us.”

 You knew that he had seen you with Mat. That he was taking it like this stunned you, for honestly, you thought Svech would be more of a problem than Joel. Taking a deep breath and exhaling it, you attempted to explain. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Joel. We never promised anything or talked about anything more after that one night.”

 “I didn’t think we had to,” he said rather harshly, and you gave him a look of warning to keep it down knowing that Dougie and Svech were upstairs. “When you share something like we did, it sort of speaks for itself.”

 “Apparently, it doesn’t.” The look of hurt on his face sent a horrible twist in your gut. “I’m sorry Joel. I didn’t think that it was anything more than just a one-time thing for you.”

 He downed the rest of his whiskey, his fingers almost white as he gripped the crystal. “I guess that’s all it was for you.” You knew you’d been playing a dangerous game with these men. Which is why when you were with Mat tonight, you thought you needed to end it. This bubble would be over soon, and you knew you had some decisions to make.

 “I don’t know what you want me to say. You never asked me out. Mat did. It’s as simple as that.” You knew that really wasn’t a valid explanation but it was all you had. “Maybe if this,” you said motioning between the two of you. “Happened at a different time or a different place, but it didn’t.”

 His shoulders sagged and you could see the defeat not only from the game but you as well, in his eyes. “And now I’m leaving in the morning.”

 “Unfortunately, you are.”

 He released the glass, and moved from behind the bar, walking so that only inches separated the two of you. “Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know.” He grabbed your waist and hauled you close to his body before his lips came down on yours. The kiss was hard and punishing, one meant to leave a lasting impression and it did. There was part of you that just wanted to melt into him, but then you pushed him back, knowing that it wasn’t right when you had feelings for another. Well more than one person actually, and to throw someone else in the mix wasn’t right. “Goodbye, (Y/N).” With that he headed upstairs, leaving you to wonder if you’d ever see him again.

 You grabbed the glass of whiskey and downed the rest of its contents. The taste of the expensive alcohol lost on you. You stood by the bar wondering how the hell you’d gotten yourself in this predicament. For years you’d watched the bachelor or bachelorette wondering how their feelings could be so torn between two people in so little time. Now, you found yourself with that same dilemma. Your heart was already torn by three men and now it ached for Joel, though not in the same way it did for the other guys. You headed to your room, locking the door behind you. The last thing you needed was Svech coming to your door in the middle of the night.

 Sleep came easily, and by the time you woke in the morning the men were all packed and ready to go. You bid them all farewell, noting a hint of sadness in both Joel and Andrei, though you pushed it away and went on with your day. By the afternoon, thoughts of the Canes were starting to dwindle as you worked towards moving the New York based team into the hotel. You saw Mat wink at you, as room assignments were given, and butterflies started to churn in your stomach.

 They had a game that night, so you didn’t expect to see Mat at all. The knock on your door that evening was a surprise, and you barreled down the stairs to answer it. “Do you always answer the door in nothing but a t-shirt?” Mat asked.

 “Um…No. I actually forgot this was all I had on. I was just getting ready for bed, but I can go change.”

 “No. Don’t. I wasn’t complaining,” he told you as he finally stepped inside, and kissed your cheek. “Hope it’s not too late?”

 “It’s not.” It was then that you realized your hair was thrown up in a messy bun and you had absolutely not one drop of makeup on your face. “I’m just surprised you’re here after moving in and playing tonight. I thought you’d be exhausted.”

 Mat simply shrugged. “Not really, kind of keyed up from the win. Did you watch?”

 You had of course, but you were also watching the Stars and Tyler, or at least you had been until Mat knocked on your door. “Of course, you played well.” He had even though he didn’t score.

 “Thanks, I didn’t mean to bug you,” he told you glancing around the suite and taking everything in. “I just wanted to stop by and see you for a minute. You know…now that I’m in the building and all.”

 The two of you were standing at the door still somewhat awkwardly. Why did this man make you so nervous all of the sudden? “You’re not bugging. Did you want to stay for a while?”

 Mat had his hands in his pockets, almost as if he was trying to keep them from pulling off what little clothes you had on. “I’d like that.”

 “Have a seat. I’m just going to run upstairs, turn off the tv, and uh….” You motioned down to your attire or lack thereof. Mat stopped you though, right as you made a move to leave.

 “Seriously (Y/N), don’t change.” His hands went to your hips and he drew your body close to his. “You look sexy as hell like this, and that’s me telling you the truth. I’m not trying to make a move or something. We can just cuddle on the couch for a bit.”

 Your arms looped around his neck, enjoying the feel of his thick muscles there. “Ok.” You kissed him then, just sweet and tenderly, half hoping that it would turn into more, but Mat pulled away before that could happen and led you to the couch. He pulled you down onto his lap, curling your body into his.

 “I thought about this all day.” He confessed.

 “Did you?”

 “Mmmhmm.” His large hands began to caress your skin and you felt yourself melting into him. “So, what were you watching.”

 “I just had whatever game was on.”

 “Oh, watching the competition huh? Should I be worried?”

 “Maybe a little,” you teased though only partly considering you did have feelings for Tyler.

 “Oh, ok,” he scoffed a little. “Hand me the remote and let me see who my competition is.” It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you found yourself giving him the control to turn on the game.  The Stars were playing Calgary that night, in what appeared to be their final game of the series if the score was any indication. “Tell me you’re not talking to Tkachuk?” Mat seemed almost offended at the idea.

 “He’s a little young for me.” Matthew Tkachuk was older than Svech, though not by much. Had the opportunity ever presented itself you may have fallen in bed with the curly-haired forward, but couldn’t see anything lasting with him.

 “He’s not that much younger than me, but I like that he’s not on your radar. So, let me see who else do we have here.” You could see him watching each line change and knew that you needed to deter him before he guessed Tyler and you’d end up giving yourself away. “Is it Hanifin? He’s a year younger than me I think.” You grabbed the remote and clicked off the television. “Hey, what’d you do that for?”

 “Because I’m not going to spend all night having you guess about someone that isn’t here in this room with me.” You threaded your fingers through the longer locks at the nape of his neck. “Especially when we could be doing so many other things.” You pulled his mouth down on yours, kissing him hard and letting him know what you really wanted now that he was here.

 Mat read your cue perfectly. His tongue swept in and took control, ravaging your mouth and stealing you of your senses. He cupped both of your cheeks, practically fusing your lips to his in a breath-stealing kiss. The two of you stayed like that for some time, neither of you making a move to take it any further, but then you felt his hand slide down to your neck and over your back. The move was subtle and gentle, and Mat’s warm hand on your back had you leaning in even closer to his body; wanting and needing more. Before you knew it, you found yourself shifting, so that you straddled his hips.

 Mat’s hands stole under the hem of your shirt, to cup the globes of your ass, and a gasp left your lips causing the two of you to break apart. “I promised myself I wouldn’t take things this far tonight,” Mat whispered, his breathing harsh.

 “That’s a pretty big promise to make without even consulting me,” you teased, peppering him with kisses.

 “I just don’t want you to think that I’m only here for sex.” The look on his face, had you pulling back. “I meant what I said last night when I told you I want more.”

 You sat back on your haunches, still straddling him and feeling his erection growing. “I know Mat. Look, I can’t promise you anything…” His wounded puppy dog eyes were slowly killing you. “Yet. I still need time to think.”

 “I understand.” You weren’t entirely sure he did, for he looked like a lost puppy.

 “I can make you one promise though.” You tilted his chin up, which had fallen down in dejection moments ago. “While we’re here in Toronto, I won’t be with anyone else but you.”

 The sadness in his eyes left, replaced by a sparkle of hope. “That’s all I can ask.” Mat kissed you then, his tongue invading your mouth, swirling with yours. This time when his hands went to the hem of your shirt they didn’t stop until he had it off of your body, leaving you clad in nothing but a lacy thong. “God, you’re beautiful.” His hands glided up your sides until they reached the undersides of your breasts. He cupped them both, squeezing and kneading the flesh in his hands, as your back arched into his palms. Mathew’s lips traveled down your collarbone, only stopping once he had one nipple between them. You moaned into the room, clutching at his scalp as he sucked and nibbled on the little peak.

 Your hips started to rock back and forth against Mat’s, feeling his erection grow against you. “Where’s the bedroom?” Mat hissed out lifting both of your bodies off the sofa. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively. “I’m not taking you on some couch again.”

 You softly chuckled at him. “Upstairs, on the right.” He was taking the stairs two at a time as if you weighed no more than a feather. You clutched at his neck dropping kisses to his face and collarbone along the way. Once he entered your bedroom, he slammed the door shut. “No one else is here…” You meant to tell him that there was no need to shut the door, but then he pinned you against it, his hips thrusting into yours and you moaned out.

 Mat kissed you long and hard, stealing your breath away. You could feel yourself growing wet with desire as your tongues mated together, mimicking what your bodies wanted to do. Mat finally pulled away, his eyes darting around the room in search of the bed. Once he located it, he carried you over to it, laying you down gently while his body hovered over yours. “You’re so damn beautiful.” You reached for him then, bringing his lips to yours, just needing to kiss him again. Mat’s kisses were intoxicating. They made you feel as if they were only meant for kissing you and damn if that didn’t feel amazing. But then they were gone, though still on your body making their way down to your breasts, before continuing on to your core.

 He slid your panties off and spread your legs, as he dropped kisses all around your pussy, evading that one place you yearned to have him kiss. Mat stripped off his shirt before kneeling in front of you and sliding you to the edge, so he could work his way up your inner thigh. You leaned up on your elbows watching, as a smirk crossed his face; a devilish grin transforming him into a kid that had been caught opening his Christmas presents early, right before his lips found your clit. “Ooohh,” you moaned out, your head falling back and your arms trembling with an effort to hold your upper body up, as his mouth did unholy things to you.

 “You like that baby?” Mat asked and you could feel him grinning against your cunt. His tongue flattened against you before you could answer and all you could do to reward him was moan out his name. You fell back against the bed, your hands clutching at the bedsheets, as he pushed his tongue deep inside you.

 “Fuck,” you hissed out, one hand threading into his locks and encouraging him to continue. His tongue was like magic, as he licked and sucked at your core. You couldn’t help your hips lifting up into him, as sensation after sensation started to rip through your body. Mat held you down with one strong arm across your midsection, still working his mouth over you. Pressure from his splayed hand on your mons rocketed through your body and you thought you were going to explode then and there, but then Mat dipped his finger inside you, only in to his first knuckle while he lapped at your clit. You were teetering on the edge, ready to break at any second but Mat wasn’t ready for that just yet. He removed his finger, coated with your wetness, and spread it all over your pussy.

 “You’re so damn wet, baby. Do you know what that does to me? How hard it makes me.” Fuck you loved it when he said things like this. His finger dipped back inside, this time all the way and you groaned out at how good it made you feel. He pumped it in and out of you a few times before adding another. “You’re so tight. Gotta get you ready for my cock, baby.” God, you wanted it. You wanted him to just thrust his dick inside you and fuck you for the rest of your time in the bubble. Maybe it was your hips thrusting into his hand or maybe Mat was just taking pity on you, but the next thing you knew his tongue was back on your clit and you were shattering beneath him. Your pussy convulsing around his fingers as they worked you through your orgasm.

 Mat gave you a second to recover, ridding himself of the rest of his clothes as you caught your breath. When you finally did, you made your way up the bed a little more, Mat chasing you as he hovered over your body. He kissed you, as you sunk back against the pillows; tasting yourself on his lips. His cock nudged at your entrance, and you bent your knees to give him easier access into you. Mat took his time sliding into you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. When he was buried balls deep inside you, he moaned into your mouth, loving how your pussy clenched around him. You hooked one of your legs around his hips so that he pressed even deeper into your core, only then did he release your lips. “Are you trying to kill me?” All you could do was grin up at him before he flexed his hips and started to move. You were lost then, floating on a cloud that pushed you closer to that slice of heaven that seemed to only be found when he was inside you.

 The two of you moved as one, and all that could be heard in your bedroom was the sound of your bodies coming together mixed with your moans. Mat couldn’t control himself, he knew he was close to climaxing inside you, yet he pushed himself to bring you to that brink with him; driving into you with a force he knew that would bring you pleasure. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he wedged his hand between your bodies and rubbed your clit, with the right amount of pressure that drove you wild. That was all it took. Your back arched, your legs trembled, and your pussy quivered around him as the orgasm hit you. At the first sign of you cumming, Mat was done, so far gone in his own climax he couldn’t think straight.

 His body still shivered from the force of the orgasm, as he rolled to his side taking you with him. You laid there staring into his eyes as he gazed back at you. “Can you stay or do you need to go back to your room?”

 “Oh, I can stay, as long as you want me.” His hand was idly stroking your hair as you drew lazy circles on his chest, so content and at peace just being there with him.

 “Of course, I want you to stay.” There was nothing you wanted more than to lay just like this in his arms for the rest of the night and into tomorrow. You felt him get a bit more comfortable, shifting you ever so slightly so that your head was now on his chest where you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

 “Well, then it looks like you got me.” You didn’t need to look at him to see the smile on his face. It was the same one that graced yours.

 As you lay there listening to Mat’s heartbeat you could feel yourself drifting off. “We should set the alarm,” you mumbled. “My phone is on the nightstand.” Mat grabbed it and went to hand it to you, but you were too sated to be bothered. “Just set it for whatever time you need up at.”

 Mat looked at the phone then and noticed the two missed calls and a voicemail there, both from the same number. He looked down at you resting on his chest, almost asleep. He should tell you, he really should, but then that ugly green-eyed monster reared its head and he found himself deleting both the calls. He waited until you were in a deep enough sleep before listening to the voicemail. He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t stop himself. Mat now knew Tyler was his competition and there was no way he was going to let him win this game, even if it meant he had to play a little dirty.  

[violetlypurple]

5 Songs - J’hatano Kayj

Ho boy, here we go, the hard stuff. Sticking to the unspoken rule of one song per artist per album restricts the heck out of what I’d like to do here, BUT ONWARD. 

While most of my aesthetic for J’hatano is more instrumental along the lines of Erutan or European folk like Faun or Heilung, I sure got some songs about feels among other things so buckle up, it’s gonna be sad. This is definitely not a coherent playlist since every song listed is a wildly different genre sorry about that.

In no particular order.

1. Cellar Darling - Hang

Off to a dark start! This one I assign to J’hatano’s outlook during and after her imprisonment, with the overall theme that even at the moment of greatest despair, there is a constructive path and a road to recovery (maybe). Most of the lyrics are apt but this passage in particular sticks out to me.

And once I tied and formed a sling I saw a bird that had a broken wing The bird was tired, could barely sing Is this pain all that my life can bring? And all it took was a piece of string Around a stick to mend the broken wing Through the forest now its voice could ring Bow for this tree now has a brand new king

2. Blind Guardian - Carry the Blessed Home

A victorious melody underpinned by the words of personal loss and disbelief is a good fit for J’hatano’s experience with her first and last up close battle as detailed in the reply to this ask, being left to only dwell upon disgust and shame while the world seemed to celebrate.

Driven insane? No What I feared the most I have faced and that's truth The grey faced is not innocent Though I cry in dismay I will follow decay I'll move on Is there anyone here Who knows How it feels to be wrong?

3. Murder By Death - Good Morning, Magpie

The Love Song(tm). J’hatano knows very well that her life has shaped her into a person that is difficult to get to know and slow to earn real trust from, let alone love and support in the usual framework of a relationship. It’s a weight she knows not just anyone can carry.

My wings are dusted With frost and cold For a little thing like you I'm too heavy a load You'll struggle and falter Amble around Just follow some other storm Cause I'll only weigh you down You carry me home My love Still you carry me home Little dove

4. VNV Nation - Illusion

I think everyone who has heard this song has applied it to something painful in their life, or just a dark time, that they wish someone had been around to say these words to them. Same applies to J’hatano.

I know it's hard to tell how mixed up you feel Hoping what you need is behind every door Each time you get hurt, I don't want you to change Because everyone has hopes, you're human after all The feeling sometimes, wishing you were someone else Feeling as though you never belong This feeling is not sadness, this feeling is not joy I truly understand. Please, don't cry now Please don't go, I want you to stay I'm begging you please, please don't leave here I don't want you to hate; For all the hurt that you feel The world is just illusion, trying to change you

5. Spiritbox - Circle With Me

J’hatano does not have many good feelings left about Ala Mhigo. It is a place full of bitter memories she had to leave behind while most of her people find it a place to return to and have hope in their future. Anyway I assigned this song to be about that, for her. Suitably heavy and moody.

Negative feedback loop I'm spinning out of control The sickly sweetness is crushing me But I wanna know If there's no heat when I escalate, the fire is cold They echo, "This could all be yours"

Feel the weight of a martyr It could all be yours if you echo birds of prey Traitor cut down the altar It could all be yours Vultures circling the flame

Whew! That was A Time!

Thanks for the tag @grandcompany​ !

[bakamoonshine]

Throne

Summary: Draco teases you, and you know he secretly cares about you too much, but you lash out at him. Idea formulated from Throne by Bring Me the Horizon.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, a little OOC, sort of a toxic relationship I guess idk, a small amount of fluff

A/N: So, I really liked the idea for this fic, but I’m not sure I executed it well lol. I really struggled with this one, it took me multiple days, so leave me some feedback and some requests!

             As you walk past the boy’s bathroom on the third floor, you hear quiet sniffling. You peak your head in, just in time to watch your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, dip his head down into his hands and let out a mangled sob. His hair is strewn across his face, robes thrown across the sink next to him, his shirt disheveled and unbuttoned at the top as he desperately tries to throw some water onto his face. Even at this distance, I can see his hands shaking. You’ve never seen Draco quite like this before – almost manic in his movements, a wildness and deep sadness in his eyes that you would have never expected to exist there. Your heart broke at the scene in front of you, wishing you could comfort him but knowing his cold demeanor would immediately return in the presence of another. You quietly closed the door and slipped away, Draco none the wiser of what you had witnessed.

***

           You take your seat in Defense Against the Dark Arts, waiting for class to start and hoping the lesson will be interesting today. You self-consciously hope that nobody notices how puffy your eyes are – you and Draco had a fight the night before. You can’t even remember what the fight was about now, but whenever you cry a lot, you wake up the next morning with incredibly puffy eyes. You watch solemnly as your boyfriend struts into the room, clearly not bothered by what had happened the night before.

“Oh Y/N, something on your mind? You really should get a hold of your emotions. It’s a bit pathetic really” Draco says, noting your red-rimmed eyes. You know he’s being more of an ass because he’s around his friends, but it still hurts. He slouches back into his chair; the ankle of his right food balanced on his left knee in a position of laziness. He looked proud of himself for what he had just said, the smirk on his face growing as his hand found its way to rest under his chin, thumb on one side and all his fingers on the other. ‘That git,’ you thought to yourself, unable to contain your frustration anymore.

           “You sit in your chair like it’s a throne, but you don’t even rule yourself,” you snarled at him. His face immediately dropped, eyes widening. The horror-struck expression he wore let you know that he knew exactly what you had seen in the boy’s bathroom earlier in the week. “You expect me to be master of my emotions, shouldn’t you expect the same from yourself? Hypocritical ass…” you huffed, trailing off at the end. Draco immediately got up from his seat and swept from the room, footsteps distinctly telling you where he was going. Groaning in exasperation, you followed him silently, not regretting your words but wishing you hadn’t been quite so harsh.

You followed Draco towards the Room of Requirement, not knowing what to expect but wanting to fix the damage you’d done either way. You hid as you waited for Draco do disappear into the room, then quickly followed him through the door before it could disappear. It looked like a giant library, but while there were books tidily stacked on the shelves, there were also books stacked haphazardly on the ground, creating a giant maze. Through one of the corridors created by the books, you could just catch a glimpse of a squishy, green armchair. You started to walk towards it, hoping Draco would be seated in the chair opening a book, when someone grabbed your wrist. You whipped around, biting off a scream as the handsome, pale face came into view, a halo of white-blonde hair surrounding it.

           “Draco,” you breathed, letting out your breath as you realized it was exactly who you were looking for. “I didn’t mean-” he cut you off with a lazy wave of his hand.

           “I know, Y/N.” He looked directly into your face when he spoke again. “But anybody who says anything against me has the wrong idea, you must know that. Every wound, mental or physical, helps shape me into the person I’m going to become. You say I sit on a throne while I can’t even rule myself – well,” he scoffs, “every scar I’ve ever gotten has helped me build that throne. I will use the sticks and stones that have been thrown at me along the way to build an empire, rebuild everything that everybody else broke along the way. They can cry me a river for all I care – I forgive them because without them, I’d have no reason to fucking fight.” By the time he’s finished speaking, Draco is panting slightly, out of breath from finally saying what he’s been keeping bottled up. I know that there is more that needs explaining, but I’m glad he’s at least let some form of emotion out, even if it’s anger.

           “Draco,” I say gently, not wanting to make him even angrier. “I know that you know I saw you in the bathroom the other day. Do you want to talk about it?” He looks up at me sharply, not expecting me to bring it up. He shakes his head.

           “I can’t talk to you about it. It would just put you in more danger than you already are dating me.” You look at him with concern, softly grabbing his arm and rubbing the spot where you know his dark mark is, trying to counter the bad with some good. You can feel him relax a little bit under your touch, so you tug on his arm to pull him closer. You move your arms up to loop them around his neck and feel him move to bury his head in the crook of your neck. You feel hot tears drip onto your shoulder and run your hand through his hair soothingly. “I can’t lose you” he whispers, voice cracking, making your heart break even further.

           “I’m yours, Dray,” you whisper back, lifting his head up to meet your gaze and wiping the tears from his face. You place a small kiss on the tip of his nose, and he crinkles his nose in response. He pulls your face to his chest and runs one hand over your hair, smoothing it down. After some thought, he rests his chin on your head.

           “I know,” he replies simply, making you worry about his family ties to the Dark Lord. Could you be in that much danger? You burrow your face further against Draco as you think ‘Would I die for Draco Malfoy? Would I die to keep him safe?’ You pull your face away from Draco’s chest and look into his pale, grey eyes, now stormy after the tears they had spilled. Despite how much of an ass he is sometimes, you know deep down that you love him. When he looks down, connecting your eyes, the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile. You immediately get butterflies in your stomach. ‘Yes…I would die for Draco Malfoy.’

[yeojaa]

( GHOST IN MY BED. )

Sometimes, hating someone is the only thing you can do. 

pairing.  jjk x (named) f!reader.

genre + rating.   rockstar!au.  e2l (exes n enemies!).  angst.  general.    

tags / warnings.  the angst is heavy in this chapter.  there’s also mentions of drunk driving, a reference to drug use, and really, just a lot of sadness.  proceed with caution! 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ and @periminkle​ i lob you both! 

wc.  2.8k

chapter one.

You’ve barely moved an inch, rooted to the spot by fear and sadness and three long years of distance.  It feels far too strange to be so close, to see him somewhere other than an illuminated screen.  You know you should say something, do something - anything - but every tired bone in your body is telling you to run and that’s something you can’t do.  Not after you’ve come so far. 

So you take a deep breath - deep as you can manage without bursting the dam that packs itself with flimsy sticks and stones - and step forward.  It feels monumental, far more than a single footfall. 

He’s watching you, carefully, as he’s always done, with awe written into every line still visible beneath bandages.  You see the way his jaw tenses, how the muscle works in agitation and hopelessness.  He’s holding himself back, much to your surprise.  You think you only recognize that because you know him so well.

And then you remember - you don’t know him at all.  Not anymore.

Because he might seem like the same boy you’ve loved for most of your life, but he’s nothing but a ghost now.  A figure from your worst nightmares, draped in white linen and gauze.  

His hair’s far longer than it’s ever been, sweeping over the sharp contours of his cheeks, past the singular scar he’d gotten in third grade.  It curls over his ears even in its dishevelled state, looking in desperate need of a cut and yet endearing all at once. The way he stares at you remains the same - intense, achingly familiar - and his smile - a little battered and bruised now - stretches like pavement, concrete and grounding.  

You hate that it does something to your heart, the delicate frame of your rib cage rattling with the way the organ nearly launches itself out of your throat and into his hands.

You take another step.  Jungkook doesn’t look away.  

“I missed you,”  he says, as if you’re an old friend, someone who’s come to hold his hand.  As if he hadn’t broken your heart into a million pieces and this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him since you managed to piece it back together.  

How you’d managed to rebuild yourself after that, you’re not sure.  You’d collected the broken bits, filled the cracks with gold, and mended it into something different.  A bit flawed and imperfect, but whole - stronger and illuminated.  You’d done that all on your own.

That doesn’t mean it doesn't still beat for him, just a little.  

A part of you aches to return his words.  It’s halfway off your tongue when you cut it off, severing it with a bite of your teeth and a resolve that just barely holds on.

You reach his side - still a good foot from the edge of the bed - and settle into the worn leather chair to his right.  It’s comfortable, surprisingly so, but you can’t find it in yourself to relax.  You’re ramrod straight, line of your spine strung like a bow.

It’s hard to look at him directly - to recognize the parts of him you’d once called yours - so you don��t, instead allowing your gaze to bounce across the room.  There are large bouquets of flowers against the few surfaces, all larger-than-life arrangements that look at odds with the barren body that’s laid up beside you.  You wonder, idly, who they’re from.  Friends?  Family?  Your heart stutters.  Fans?

There’s a bag and personal effects on the couch.  Black leather, exorbitantly expensive, embossed with his initials on the interior pocket.  The gift you’d gotten him for your last anniversary - the same one he’d nearly lost on tour despite the fact that it cost you more than you’d have cared to admit.  Something like anger simmers in your stomach at the sight of it.

When he speaks again, you’re still glaring at the bag, unable to tear your eyes from the supple material and all the memories it carries.  

“Pumpkin?”  

The nickname tears you from your reverie.  You can’t help the way you suddenly stare at him - all wide-eyed surprise.  “What?”

Something close to relief floods his expression, spilling like wet paint over the curve of his mouth, the corners of his eyes.  It spreads delight into every inch, unrelenting and unrepentant.  “I said I missed you, Pumpkin.”  He repeats himself not because you haven’t heard him but because he wants that reaction again - the one that tells him everything he needs to know.

You resent him for it.    

“Please don’t call me that.”  You wish it were stronger - that you were stronger.  It’s hard.

You know you shouldn’t love him anymore and that none of this should affect you.  After all, he’d thrown your heart into a blender with three shots of vodka and chased it down with some pills and cigarette smoke.  He’d filled all the space you’d given him with other things - riches and women and thin white lines - and he’d had the audacity to be surprised when your own sadness had slipped in, too. 

He’d always imagined you’d keep it locked up, held so closely he’d never have to face it.  You’d thought so to, really.  Hadn’t expected the way it spilled out regardless, too much misery to be kept in a little glass house. 

There was only so much you could take before it all came crumbling down. 

So, it’s hard.  You love him because he’s him and you’re you and that means more than you can possibly put into words.

“Don’t call you what?”  It’s almost patronizing, like he can’t quite believe his ears.  

“You know what.”

He scoffs - a low, broken sound that catches halfway out, muffled by chain-smoking and not nearly enough sleep.  “You never used to have a problem with it.”

“We were together then,”  you retort quietly, sandpaper grit and burnt coffee bitter. 

“Just tossing me aside then?”  

You’re not quite sure where he pulls it from - the sheer, idiotic confidence he somehow fits into his words, framing them like you’re in the wrong.  You wonder if it comes from years in the spotlight because it certainly wasn’t there before. 

“Don’t say it like that.”  What’s meant to be reproachful comes almost pleading, soft and sad and stained with saltwater.  

“Then don’t tell me what to do.”

The silence that falls is paradoxical, miserable and fulfilling all at once.  

It hurts in the worst of ways, sparking from the tips of your toes to the tops of your ears.  It feels like being outlined in neon - vivid pain in shades of pink and green that burn through your veins.  Proverbial I told you so’s curl over your ankles and around your heart, little reminders that this is who he is now and every path would’ve led you here anyway.  Parallel lines meant to converge only once before diverging once more.

“I’m sorry.”   His apology feels infinite, as if it’s meant to make up for multitudes.  “I just…”

Nothing further comes.  You don’t know what you’d expected. 

“It’s fine,”  you say, even though it’s decidedly not fine.  Absolutely nothing about this was even remotely fine.  You weren’t even really sure why you’d agreed to come.  You were still working through all your reasonings, turning them on their heads in hopes of receiving an answer other than the glaringly obvious ones that spilt out like salt grains. 

“Is it?”  Something about how he speaks, how the question seems so small, prompts you to meet his eyes.  You wish you hadn’t.

There’s an infinite galaxy swirling in his irises, a million words he hasn’t spoken.  They beg to be loved regardless, to feel even a semblance of the warmth your smile had once offered.  It breaks your heart all over again, splitting it into pieces where the cracks and crevices haven’t quite fused together fully.

“I missed you, Pumpkin.”  You don’t have it in you to rebuff him.  Not when he reaches for you - a feeble gesture that pulls his figure close, entire bruised frame reassembling like a shuddering skeleton.  He’s starry-eyed and intoxicating, drawing you into the Jungkook-shaped supernova you’re helpless against.  “I missed you so fucking bad.”

“Jungkook.”  

His name sounds like it’s about to break apart just like your heart, shattering wide open into a thousand splintered fragments.  

“Please don’t do this.”  Not again, you think.  Not after all this time.

“I can’t,”  he says and it’s shipwrecks and car crashes, misery in the form of broken teeth and battered bones and endless blue in his eyes.  “I need you.  I need you.”

It doesn’t escape you that you’ve heard these words before.  You’d tucked that memory into the furthest corner, up and above your head in a shelf that you’d never touch.  You’d folded it away into the box labelled JEON JUNGKOOK and tried to forget about it.  You haven’t been able to.

It bursts out now, bouncing around your skull and in your ears - a feedback loop that won’t stop.

“Please.”  You try again.  

He’s gripping your hand so tightly - with a strength that feels far too much for someone only a day past a terrible accident - and it feels white hot and alive.  Where his skin touches, he burns candle wax and coaxing - honeyed and warm.  You imagine you’ll peel the drippings off later and be left with scars in the form of his hands.  You wonder just how much more you can take.

“Please.”  You try a third time.  It’s feeble, frayed from holding on too long and too tight.

He hears it just as well as you. 

“Stay with me.  I don’t have anyone else.”

A part of you wonders how true that is.  Surely, he had his family - his lovely parents that you’d practically considered your own.  You can’t imagine they’d leave him here to rot. 

Your resolve still crumbles, just a little, from the topmost pillar. 

Ever the opportunist, Jungkook watches the fall of your Roman empire with rapt attention, hopeful as a new god.  If only you weren’t so easy to read - full hand laid out on the table. 

“What happened?”  You pose the question in place of an agreement, words offered in the same instance you remove your hand - or try to, anyway.  It doesn’t get very far.  He seems adamant in keeping your fingers twined, knuckles stark white and riddled with tension.  You wonder if he’s oblivious to it or if he just doesn’t care.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

So focused on the way he holds you - claims you in the iron shackle that he deems he needs - you almost miss the way his features contort, rolling through a myriad of emotion before settling into a defensive mask.  

You hadn’t expected a bared soul or a confession of all his sins - you knew enough of them already - but you’d hoped for some semblance of honesty. 

By his expression, you wonder if you’ll even get that. 

“I was in an accident.”  It’s short, terse and held tightly between his teeth.  

You don’t mean it in any way but observational.  “I see that.” 

He still takes it the wrong way, scowl fitting like a glove.  It steels his jaw and hardens the line of his mouth, the moulting of purple over and around his eye doing little to hide the storm that grows in his stare.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You can feel a headache coming on - the first pinpricks of it just behind your eyes and at your temples.  It forms in bits and pieces, a silhouette of a man that burns your retinas and makes your grit your teeth. 

“Nothing, Kook.”  It comes far more tired than you expect it to, weighed down by something you can’t quite place.  It feels like you’ve run a marathon in this small room.  You wonder if this is what it’s always like - draining and miserable and reminiscent of the hell of tenth grade gym class.

“I’m sorry.”

How many times has he said that now?  Will it ever be enough?  For him?  For you?

You shake your head, a slow gesture that doesn’t really register at first.  You’re so used to appeasing him - even three years later - and it comes of its own accord, bobbing your neck on your shoulders like second nature.  You could hold it back, but you seem just as intent on repeating yourself as he does.  “It’s fine.”

Maybe this is what the two of you are destined for - two lost lovers stuck on a merry-go-round.  

“It’s not fine.”  He’s released your hand now - you try to ignore the sudden, overwhelming disappointment that crashes into you like a tidal wave - and uses the bruised, bandaged one of his own to scrub down the side of his face.  It’s a surprisingly tired gesture, as if all of a sudden the weight of his situation has settled on his shoulders.  You barely catch the words that fumble out next, hidden behind the palm of his hand and the ink that swirls over his ink.  “I just…”

You’re hopeful for a split second.  Hopeful that he might let you in, despite the fact that you know you shouldn’t even be knocking at that door. 

“I don’t want you to look at me differently.”  It comes so small, your heart clenches in your chest. 

Then you wonder - what had he done?

“I won’t.”  It’s not a promise but it sounds like one, filled with sunbeams and reassurance.  You wish you could offer it any other way, maybe with careful regard and just the right amount of distance.  Instead, you’re committed, poker chips piled high on green felt.  All or nothing.  You can’t help it.

“I fucked up.”  

For the first time, you see him as he was those years ago - full of promise and hope, eager for a taste of the unknown.  You see him as the Jeon Jungkook you’d known and loved, vulnerability threaded through all five feet ten inches of his frame.  

You want to help him.  You shouldn’t, but you do.  “You can tell me.” 

“We just finished the tour.”  Pride colours his answer in glimmering strands of gold, threads that glint as he speaks.  Charisma oozes out of every pore, shimmering like precious stones hidden behind his molars and within his stare.  It’s easy to understand how he’s done so well for himself.  “I was… celebrating.  You know.”  You certainly don’t, but you nod along regardless.  “Things got a little out of hand.”

His attention seems far away, focused on something you can’t see.  He continues carefully, cherry picking his words.  

“I probably shouldn’t have driven.  She—”  Everything comes to a stuttering halt, his doe-eyed stare suddenly finding yours with alarm.  “—I mean, they.  Uh.”  The damage is already done.  You can feel it taking root - that same hurt you’d felt creeping into your throat before you’d stepped foot into this space.  You swallow it down as best you can, tearing your gaze from his to train somewhere on the cotton that rests in his lap.

“Go on.”

He’s stuttering just a bit, because he can’t help it.  He knows he’s been caught.  You know he’s been caught.  Gone is the Jungkook you’d once known.  You see him for all he is yet again - a poor boy dressed in leather and lies.  It hurts far more than it should.  

“Uh.  W-w-we were in, uh, the car.”  The intensity of his gaze feels like two little laser beams.  You can practically feel them burning through the top of your head as you refuse to meet his eyes.  “I was— I was drunk and I didn’t— I didn’t see the other car.”

You’ve heard enough.  

You wonder if the way you’re staring at him now is the way he’d most feared.  It must be by how his face falls, crumples like a house made of playing cards.  

“I’m glad you’re okay.”  You mean it - really, you do - but that’s the only thing you can give him.  

For his and for your sake, you need to leave.  Now.

“Please remove me as your emergency contact.”  Your voice wobbles, falling apart as you speak.  You worry the tears will follow soon after.  You can barely make out his expression, the wetness crowding heavily along your lashes and turning everything into a strange amorphous blob.  

It’s getting harder to breathe the longer you stay.  Each step towards the door feels like your head on the chopping block.  Once you cross that threshold, it’ll be severed clean off.  You’ll leave your heart in this room, with this boy who hasn’t grown a single day in the last three years.

You think he must be speaking to you but you can’t make it out.  Everything’s muffled, like you’re underwater and about to drown.  It fills your ears and steals your senses, narrowing your focus to the polished steel door handle that’s just within reach.

“I’m really, really glad you’re okay.”  It’s all you can manage before the dam breaks and you’re throwing yourself into the hallway and the waiting arms of your brother.  You don’t know how to stop the noise that rips out of your throat, wet and desperate and barely coherent.  

Yoongi was right - you shouldn’t have come.

author note.  this was quite short but it didn’t feel right with another scene added to it.  the next chapters will move the story along a lot more.  ty for reading!  💖

tag list.  @jalexa83​ 

[supernatural-jackles]

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 4

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4,473

Warnings: Anxiety, Minor Angst, Fluff, Ketch, Mentions of Cheating.

Summary:  Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

Square Filled: College AU ( @spndeanbingo​)

A/N: Part 4! I have a feeling you might be a little mad towards the end! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy reading! 

You lay in your bed, your hands resting on either side of your body as you stared up at the ceiling. You had been awake for hours. Your mind not quite shutting off to give you that sense of peace and calm that you needed. You didn’t want to get out of bed. You didn’t want to face the day ahead. You felt this heaviness in your chest that you knew was here to stay for the day. This time, you couldn’t even knock it down to first day jitters. Your nerves had nerves.  This wasn’t just the first day of school. This was the first day you showed your face after Ketch destroyed you. Not that anyone knew that.

 You knew you had to get out of bed sooner rather than later. You needed to get a start on breakfast. You were awake early enough that you could have a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. You could catch the morning cartoons, and give yourself some time to calm down before you had to leave. You only had three classes today and they were spread out throughout the day. They weren’t the most difficult either.  You finished the day at five forty-five and Dean was picking you up just after six so you could go out to dinner. That was the only thing you were going to focus on for the day. Dinner with Dean. He was on your side and that was what mattered the most. You could get through the day. You weren’t completely alone.

 It would have been a million times harder for you if you were alone. All your friends were friends with Ketch, and Jo. Everyone knew everything about each other. You were all part of the same friend group and now that you were on the outs, you weren’t going to have any of the people you had before. Hell, your own best friend was the one who slept with your now ex. Having Dean in your life was a blessing. You may have been his reason to keep fighting, but little did he know, he was your reason to keep your head up.  

 After you swam around yesterday afternoon, you made dinner together. You stuck with a simple rice and chicken dinner, and Dean even offered to barbecue it. You stayed in the for the rest of the night and watched Clueless, and half of The Blind Side before you got tired. Dean didn’t care what you watched. He was interested nonetheless. You did say that he could pick the next movie for movie night. It was nice to have someone there to watch the movie with you.

 You kicked off the comforter, knowing full well the day wasn’t going to start from where you were. You threw on a lighter summer robe that you kept at the end of the bed before emerging from your room. Your feet dragged on the floor as you made your way to the kitchen. You turned the coffee brewer on first, then grabbed a bowl for your Cheerios. You were like a walking zombie. You had no energy to do anything.

 You had everything you needed in your hands as you headed to the tv area. You took your respective seat on the couch. You noticed that your blanket from last night had been moved to the back of the couch. Dean must have cleaned up after you went to bed. He had a habit of double checking everything after you turned in. He certainly made you feel safe in your home.

 “Morning sunshine,” Dean greeted you gruffly. You turned your head to find him standing there with a bowl of cereal in one hand, and his mug of coffee in the other. His hair was sticking up five different directions. His eyes still glossed over with the remnants of sleep. He was clad in a fitted t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

 “Mornin’,” you yawned.

 “This your usual routine before school?” He questioned as he took a seat right next to you.

 “No. I’m uh - actually nervous about today, and I need a bit of a distraction,” you admitted. For the first time, you didn’t feel guilty about telling the truth about how you were feeling. You knew he was going to understand. He was the one who had stuck by you the last month. “How did you sleep?”

 “Eh, okay. I got a couple of hours in. Had a nightmare, actually,” he revealed. It was the first time he flat out told you about something like that. You took that as a good sign that he trusted you.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” You offered him, looking at him with sad eyes.

 “Just - seeing my dad die over again,” he shared. You noticed he was staring down at his bowl, not looking up at the tv or you for that matter. “It’s hard.”

 “I can’t even imagine how horrible that is, Dean. I’m sorry you have to see it over and over again, ” you breathed out. You leaned forward, placing your bowl of cereal on the table. You then reached over to grab Dean’s coffee and cereal, doing the very same. He looked at you in confusion for a moment. You moved over and wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tightly. Your lips curled up when he hugged you back. “If it ever gets to be too much, you know where my room is. You can wake me up if you need to. Nightmares are a bitch.”

 “Thanks Y/N. I needed that,” he half smiled, releasing you. You both grabbed your bowl of cereal and continued to eat. You liked that he was sitting here with you, munching away at his fruit loops.

 You managed to find a good channel with lots of morning cartoons on. The classics. Scooby Doo, Bugs Bunny, The Flintstones. It was a better start to the day and you could see by the look on Dean’s face that he agreed with you. Cartoons always cheered you up, whether it was tv or movies.

 “I really don’t want to go to school today,” you confessed. “I don’t want to see his face, or hers. I don’t want the questions. I don’t want to hear the lies he’s told everyone. I don’t want any of the drama that is sure to come with it.”

 “You know, you’re the toughest chick I know,” he started. “You decided what was best for you when you walked away from him. When you saw that he was cheating on you. You know how many people forgive someone they’ve been with for so long for doing that? You know you deserve better than to be treated like that. It will say a lot about him if he’s fed people stories and even more so if he’s got her by his side. He’s settling for much less. She’s merely nothing but a rebound. A quick lay. He’ll be done with her in a couple of months when the sex is too vanilla for him, and she want a ring like you got. You’ll be sitting there watching the whole thing unfold, happy you got out in the knick of time. Trust me, you’re way too good for Ketch.”

 “It’s just hard to think about. He was a big part of my life for three years. I know full well he can be a dick, and this whole situation proves it.” You started. “Ketch knows how to get exactly what he wants, and I’m sure you know that too.”

 “Unfortunately yes, I do know that,” he stated.  “You’d think that people would understand that by now. If he can’t get out of something. I’m sure his parents will get him out of it.”

 “Hell, or my mom for that matter. Guarantee you that my mother is spinning this as a mental breakdown. I’m sure she’s telling people that the wedding is just postponed. Anything to make her look good.”

 “Your mom is the last thing you should worry about. It’s very clear that she isn’t the one who raised you” he started. “You are polar opposites from what I could tell.”

 “You have no idea,” you whispered. “So you went to school with Ketch?”

 “Yeah, he was in my grade. We had a couple of classes together. Stayed back after graduation from what I remember. Although, I didn’t know why at first. He had one of the highest GPAs in our class. You know as well as I do that his parents are filthy rich, and he doesn’t exactly need a college degree to get a job when his parents have him set for life. I soon found out he stuck around to get younger girls.”

 “So you’re twenty-seven if I remember correctly?” You questioned.

 “Yeah.”

 “I’m twenty-five,” you swallowed hard. He gave you a knowing look. “Everyone told me what he was like growing up. He was different when he was with me. That’s why I was with him for so long. We had our issues, but he was never like people told me he was. Not towards me anyways. Not at first.”

 “He’s a dick. Simple as that. I’m glad you didn’t marry him,” he smiled at you. “You deserve way better than him.”

 “Thanks Dean. You made me feel a little better about going,” you mentioned. “Makes me wonder if any of my friends are going to talk to me.”

 “If they are your friends, then they will,” he told you. “You’re going to kick today in the ass. Then, we’re going out to dinner, and when we get home, we’re going to make some pie.”

 “I like that plan,” you nodded with a smile.

 You figured it would be easiest for Dean to take your car, and drop you off at school rather than the other way around. He was the one who needed it more than you did. He used it everyday to get to work anyways. You were at school until he picked you up. You were ready just before nine. Dean was waiting for you by the front door, a smile playing on his lips. You could do this. You could make it through the day.

 He played with the radio before taking off down the street. You wondered if any of the neighbors noticed that you had a guy living with you now, and Ketch wasn’t around anymore. You wondered if they judged you the same way your mom surely were. Ketch never lived in your house with you because he didn’t like how small it was compared to his million dollar mansion. It didn’t matter much to you what anyone really thought of you. Especially the strangers. But you knew somehow, someway, that was going to change after today.

 Dean pulled into the parking lot of the college in no time, cutting the engine. You saw people heading towards the building, and sitting outside beneath the trees and at the tables. You couldn’t help but search for the ones you knew; the ones you called your friends. That nervous feeling settling in once more. Your stomach becoming uneasy.

 “You’ve got this, Y/N,” he stated. “You are going to get through today. I’m just a phone call away. I will even come visit on my lunch break if you want me to.”

 “Thanks Dean. I’ll text you throughout the day,” you nodded. “I’ll see you later on.”

 “You will,” he reassured you. Dean brought his hand up, holding his pinky out to you. The morning routine. You smiled softly, linking your pinky with his. “Promise.”

 “Have a good day, Dean,” you winked as you released his pinky. You pushed the car door open, stepping out. You kept your bag at your side, giving Dean one last goodbye before taking off.

 The campus was huge, and that was one of the things that originally reeled you into this college in the first place. Lots of places to study. You just wanted somewhere that you could stay for long hours and avoid going home to your mom. She didn’t want you to go far. This was the furthest you could go. Far enough that she couldn’t control every aspect of your life.

 You kept your head held high as you walked to the North building where your first class of the day was being held. English Lit. A continuation of last year's course, just different books. You knew you had this class with Ketch. You were going to be damned if he even tried to sit near you.

 You stopped off at the coffee cart outside the building, wanting to make sure you had something to get you through the hour and a half long lesson. Tea was always your go to, and this morning’s choice was peppermint. The only flavour they had left. You handed over the guy a five, telling him to keep the change. You had twenty minutes until class started. You needed to get a good seat.

 You were the second one in the large room. There was a huge screen at the front of the classroom, and a projector in the middle. You figured this was going to be a big class. That meant it would be much harder for Ketch to talk to you.

 You brought out your laptop, opening it up on the desk. You wanted to be prepared for this lesson. You liked to record lectures so you could go back on them. You needed to ace this semester. You needed to get out of here. Maybe move out of town and get away from your mom for good. Maybe you’d be lucky and Dean would come with you.

 “Oh my god, Y/N!” a female voice filled your ears. “You’re okay!”

 “Hi Ruby,” you breathed out, giving her a weak smile. God, please don’t let anyone else be with her.

 “You haven’t answered any of my texts after the wedding. I thought you were dead!” she frowned, bringing her hand up to your head. “What happened? Did you get cold feet?”

 “No,” you shook your head. You weren't sure if she already knew what happened. Or if she knew way before, and Ketch had been cheating for much longer than just that one time, like he said it was. After all, all the girls that were at your supposed wedding were friends. You were a group. You didn’t want to run the risk of telling her something, and then have her blabbering back to Jo. “Honestly, I just don’t want to talk about it. I just want to finish school, and move on with my life.”

 “Jo said that you never showed up,” she told you. “Did you not-”

 “Ruby! Please,” you begged. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

 “Y/N, I am one of your best friends. You’re the only one that knows that I slept with Garth that night after one too many tequila shots. You’re the only one I trust out of our entire group of friends. Not Jo, not Anna, or Suzy. None of them.”

 “I saw Jo and Ketch,” you muttered. “In the dressing room before the wedding. I saw them together.”

 “Like-”

 “He was on top of her,” you confirmed.

 “She - she was with him on your wedding day?” she gasped, her jaw going slack.

 “I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but it certainly didn’t look like the first time,” you shrugged. “That’s why I left.”

 “He didn’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated, Y/N. You’ll find someone so much better than him one day,” she assured you. “Your mom was pissed when you didn’t show up. I thought she was going to explode. Although your dad wasn’t concerned.”

 “My mom didn’t come by until yesterday. Her and Ronald still went on their vacation. My dad knew. I texted him when I got in the car to leave,” you told her. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Jo can fuck Ketch all she wants. I’m not going to let either of them ruin the rest of my life.”

 “How are you not upset about it? You were with him for three years?” she questioned. “I know you guys had your issues, but I still thought you guys were endgame. Are you okay? Do you need someone to talk to about it?”

 “I’m dealing with it in my own way, Ruby. But I’m not going to cry over him anymore. Like you said, we’ve had our issues,” you swallowed hard. “I can’t let him ruin my life because I wasn’t what he wanted. The sooner I move on from it, the better.”

 The class was filling up, and much to your liking, Ruby took the seat next to you. You typed away on your computer. You just had to make sure everything was all ready for the class to start. The professor was getting everything set up at the front of the class. You looked up for a split second, and you swore, your heart stopped. Ketch walked in the classroom with Jo behind him. You really thought you could have handled it after your talk with Dean. But seeing them together a month after you were supposed to marry him. It was a really hard pill to swallow. Were they together? With the smile on his face, it made you wonder if they were a thing. It didn’t matter to you, you repeated to yourself. You were better off without them in your life.

 Your phone buzzed on the desk, causing your eyes to flick downwards. Dean’s name was the first thing you saw. Just like that, Ketch didn’t matter at all. Dean spent the morning reassuring you that today was going to be a good day. Ketch was a dick and he didn’t deserve a single ounce of love you poured into the relationship. He didn’t love you, and he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of a reaction from you. He didn’t deserve you.

 “Who’s Dean?” Ruby whispered with a smirk playing on her lips.

 “New friend I made a couple of weeks ago. He’s my roommate,” you told her. “He’s a really nice guy.”

 “Is he cute?” she played, wiggling her eyebrows. She would ask something like that, you thought to yourself with a smile.

 “Yes,” you nodded. “He’s really cute. But don’t get any ideas. I just got out of a three year relationship. We’re roommates and friends, that’s it.”

 “But you’d sleep with him?”

 “Ruby!”

 “What? With the smile on your face when he texted you, sure as hell was a more than a friend smile,” she teased.

 “Oh shut up.”

 *Hope your class is going good. My uncle Bobby gave me something today. Can’t wait to show you later*

  The class went by quicker than you expected it to. The professor just went over the little things you were going to be doing throughout the semester. It seemed pretty straight forward, and easy enough for you to keep up with. It certainly helped having Ruby there so you’d have someone to study with.

 When the class was over, you both packed up your stuff and headed out the doors. Ruby was heading to her next class, which started in half an hour. You had an hour until your next class and you were going to spend the time wandering around the campus. You had the time to reply to Dean’s text. You couldn’t help but wonder what his uncle gave him. Either way, you were happy he was doing good.

 The day flew by fast. By the time you looked, it was nearly six and you would be seeing Dean very soon. You managed to avoid Jo and Ketch for most of the day. Neither one of them seemed to notice you, or look in your direction. As far as you know anyways. You had to admit, you felt a little better after talking to Ruby. It was nice to know she was on your side too. For the time being anyways. Either way, it didn’t matter all that much. At the end of the day, you had Dean and he wasn’t going to up and leave you. You had a feeling he was sticking around for the long haul. He was your friend.

 Dean was parked in the same spot as he was this morning to drop you off. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him sitting in the front seat of your car. You had been looking forward to dinner with him all day. You didn’t care where you went, just that you were going with him.

 “Hey handsome,” you greeted him as you opened the car door.

 “Hey to you, pretty girl,” he smiled widely. “How was your day?”

 “Not bad,” you told him. “Happy to be free for the rest of the night. How was yours?”

 “Good. You ready to see what my uncle gave me?”

 “Hell yes! Is it cool?” you questioned.

 “Really cool,” he teased. He peeled out of the parking lot, heading down the same streets he took to get to work in the morning. He was really comfortable behind the wheel of a car from what you could tell. He went a little over the speed limit at best. Not enough to get him pulled over. He had his music playing. You wondered what exactly it could be. Was it at the body shop? Was it at his Uncle’s place? It had to be something to do with his family. After all, it was from his Uncle.

 Eventually he turned into the parking lot of the garage, parking by the entrance. You got out with him. Dean motioned for you to follow him around the back of the shop. The path around back wasn’t paved and pretty rough as you walked. Lots of rocks of all sizes. You could see it in the way he was walking that he was pretty excited to show you.

 “Ta-da!” he pointed towards what looked like a car. It had very clearly been in a car accident. There wasn’t much left of it for it to be even close to working. It had to be a write off.

 “It’s a car?” you guessed.

 “This was my dad’s,” he started. “This is the car he got in the accident with. Bobby told me that if I could fix it up, I could have it when it’s done. I mean, yeah it needs a lot of work. I have the tools here. I just need to order the materials which I have access to. I just gotta save some money off every paycheck and I’ll have enough.”

 “How much do you reckon this will cost?” you asked him.

 “Quite a bit. It’s a 67 impala. But it’s a part of my dad. I grew up with the car. It means a lot to me,” he stated. “If I start this week, I could have it done by November. I’m sure Bobby has some parts around here already that I can use.”

 “I think that’s really great, Dean. it was really nice of your Uncle to keep it around,” you commented. “I know absolutely nothing about cars, so I won’t be much help. But I can give you some money towards it.”

  “No, it’s okay, Y/N,” he shook his head. “He said I can come down on Sunday’s to work on it. If you have homework or something, maybe you could work on it here while I work on the car?”

 “Sounds like a good plan,” you agreed. “You better let me drive her when she’s finished.”

 “Of course. Only you though. Best friend privilege,” he winked.

 “I’m honoured,” you giggled.

 Dean took you to another diner that wasn’t too far from the last one. He wanted you to try something a little different this time. Expand your taste buds, as he said. You could see that Dean was doing much better than he was a couple of weeks ago. He didn’t seem as preoccupied as he was before. He smiled more often, and his laugh seemed to be sincere. You wondered if maybe it was because he felt less alone. You spent quite a bit of time together, and you were growing closer and closer by the day. You just wanted him to tell you one day that he didn’t want to end his life. That the thoughts had subsided. He said they get worse at night when he’s alone. You held hope that one day, he was going to be okay again.

 “Alright, the fries are the best here. I know you said you love fries and can’t say no,” he chuckled.

 “Wow!” you let out a laugh. “A man that actually listens.”

 “Hey! I pay attention,” he argued playfully. “It’s not that hard.”

 “Tell that to the rest of your gender,” you smirked. “Alright, fries and what else?”

 “I think you’ll like the steak and cheese sandwich. It’s pretty good,” he suggested. “It’s one of my favourites. The cheese melts perfectly on the steak every time.”

 “I’m trusting you here,” you pointed at him with a knowing smile.

 “Have I given you a reason not to?”

 “No, you haven’t,” you smiled.

 The waitress came over to you, taking your orders quickly. It was on the busier side. Most people got off work at six, and you knew a lot of classes finished around then too. Everyone had the same idea as you and Dean did, clearly. The booths were filling up, so was the counter. This had to be a good restaurant if it was this busy, you thought to yourself. You were glad you got here when you did.

 You and Dean decided to share the fries, because you knew you’d eat them all and have no room for pie when you got home later. You couldn’t get the thoughts out of your head. Ruby’s words were ringing in your ears. Dean was cute, and not to mention, he was really nice to you. Your face lit up when you got the text from him, and he certainly made you forget everything that went down in the last couple of weeks. For the most part at least. Dean was a great guy, and he deserved a lot better. You knew you couldn’t be any more than friends with him. Even if you were to develop stronger feelings than you already had. You always had a thing for guys that needed help. That was your type. He was your type, the more you thought about it. Dating was out of the question. You had no idea why it had even crossed your mind, and so soon at that. You literally just got out of a relationship. You didn’t need to put yourself in another one. No matter how hot the guy was. Now wasn’t the right time.

 “Y/N,” a familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts. The hair on your arms stood up and you swore that your heart dropped to your stomach.

 “Ketch.”

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

Part 5

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Feedback keeps me going!!! 

[shrimpanalysis]

SIMON LAURENT ANALYSIS

Simon is mostly known infamously as the Villain of this season and a murderer to boot. He seems to be very insistent about his own opinions and beliefs. Going so far as to outright deny other peoples attempts at correcting him.

Due to this he is seen as narrowed-minded and egotistical, outwardly hating being wrong and giving people this intellectual leverage over him but internally rethinking all of his views. His inferiority complex I mean pride- is what I think to be one of the major factors that causes his character regression.

His pride (No, not the group of lions) is shown throughout the season by holding his ground. Most people interpret it as him being close minded at adamant to his own beliefs but I feel like the beliefs are only the basis to his inferiority.

An example, his own hatred towards Nulls. This can be quite a weak link to bring up as everyone in the Apex has this belief. However, the way he continuously reacts to them despite them showing humanity to him as compared to Grace who has gradually seen the other side of them and starts to understand and develop meaningful relationships with them-

Simon reacts negatively the nicer the nulls are to him.(Tuba’s death)

I interpret this as his own damaged pride, he hates being wrong and the more he is proven wrong the more angry he would get. This fear of being wrong could stem from past experiences of being the butt of arguments and made a fool out of it.

Him experiencing these feelings brings himself to adopt this mentality that other people are perceiving him as an idiot or a fool, causing him to try to justify his beliefs as much as he can in order to victimize himself into thinking that everyone is against him and he is the only one that is right to boost his self-esteem which causes him to adopt this narcissistic and manipulative persona to hide his own weaknesses.

(Simon looks away from Grace displaying emotion, he would be more susceptible to mirroring the reactions of his closest friend and he does not want to show weakness.)

Due to his narcissism, he also displays what the viewers might perceive to be a lack of empathy. He does not display much compassion and can be outright apathetic to other people's circumstances, Such as his dismissal to Hazel bringing along Tuba despite her looking clearly distressed when they said she couldn't bring her and completely ignores her feelings about the subject.

He perhaps reacts this way due to his own internalized hatred of himself and displaying compassion would be showing a less hardened in his eyes as he is perhaps taught from a young age that being sensitive or vulnerable is showing weakness and he does not want people to think less of him.

Him being unempathetic also stems from his ego and beliefs as he usually displays this attribute towards Nulls specifically throughout the show which is because if he was indeed wrong about Nulls, it could cause him to start questioning his own feelings about them which is something he does not want to think about as it conflicts with his own victim complex.

Due to him not wanting to be more exposed emotionally, he lashes out in anger. Anger at himself that he projects onto his relationships with others as he is unable to understand and handle his emotions effectively, this can be caused by not having a stable guardian like figure to help him through such issues.

Simon is also shown to outwardly control his anger by kicking and punching objects.

This is shown to be counter productive as it does not allow the person to understand where their anger is coming from and only prides a temporary outlet for his aggression.

His aggressive personality can also be shown in his interest with making war replicas/models.

This can be taken as him being someone who likes being in control and feels like conflict is the only way to progress which can be found in his own toxic relationship with grace where he tries to control her, not knowing that she is her own person which ties into his lack of empathy. This trait is especially shown almost at the end of the series where he commands the Apex like a leader and donning a military general like coat.

His inability to cope with his own emotions and expressing them outwardly to others is the main reason for his attachment issues.

His own paranoia and lack of trust in Grace by invading her memories when she doesn't tell him that Hazel is a Null which shows us how Grace knows his aggressiveness and acts very secretive around him as she predicts he is going to blow up when he finds out.

Him finding this out himself causes even more hurt as he is hit with the realization the only person that he thinks that ever cares about him has betrayed him. He is alone now, a reminder of the time when Samantha left him behind.

And it angers him and forces him to project his sadness as vengeance against others such as manipulating grace and using her memories against her, causing her to be stuck in her own memories as Simon just walks away.

Put yourself in Simon's shoes, you are stuck in an unfamiliar environment,

no idea where to go and the only parental figure you trusted in this whole place was just using you for her own self interest and

your closest friend seems to be tip toeing around you.

You also feel like everyone is out to get you and that your flawed beliefs are wrong but it was the basis of keeping you sane throughout.

Not wanting to believe that any of these things happened to you, you disregard all emotion and lash out at others because you don't want to feel that any of these things are real.

It sounds like a fever dream doesn't it?

Congratulations, you are basically in denial.

I would say the beauty of Simon's portrayal in season three would definitely be the lack of context behind his actions. He is very easy to dismiss as a one sided evil character. (I don't deny it, he is one.) Due to this we don't really see him as a fleshed out individual and he feels like the Tom Riddle of the season.(slowly devolving into a villain.) His own deterioration into this ultimate descent to becoming a murderer and attempting to murder his childhood friend; the instances to solidify his own inferiority complex (the mentality of "Grace already perceives me as an evil character, what use is there to better myself when it's already too late?") Which is what I think to be the cause of his inevitable demise.

I doubt it is going to happen but I do wish that the next book will cover some parts of Simon's past. He isn't a redeemable character, and never has been. He is someone molded by his own upbringing that we do not see, the most integral parts of his development. Many people have made the comparison that Simon had just as many chances as Grace, if not more to redeem himself.

I feel like he does not need chances, he needs to build himself from the ground up and truly look deep into himself and figure out why is he acting this way. None of these chances provide him with that opportunity and this is where him and Grace deviate.

The train has improved Grace and supported much of her character development as shown in the series where he becomes more empathetic, more trusting and open to others such as Hazel and confronting her own demons in her own mind.

She also finally manages to stick up for herself after the emotional roller coaster Simon put her through.

Simon on the other hand, uses this opportunity on the train to cause much destruction and chaos. He has a disconnect with the plane of reality inside the train as opposed to real life and this stunts his development. In my opinion this would be due to the faults of the train and the limitations of the amount of people that it can help. Yes, some people get off the train and become better. People like Tulip, Jessie and Lake. But we don't really see the people that the system has failed. This is where Simon comes in, he is the very person that the train has failed and it shows how counter intuitive it is with the limited opportunities and the disregard for the different circumstances of the people in it, bundling them together.

I doubt Simon will be the first, or the last passenger to be ruined by the whole system. I do like how his character gives us an insight into something not many of us have thought of before that is; how can a train be designed to be so perfect that it can help every single person on board? It is impossible. Even Artificial Super Intelligence like One-One would have trouble doing so. Which can represent how people can only change if they want to, and if they genuinely don't they have to be stuck the feedback loop of hell.

_____________________________________________________________

Big thanks to my homeboy @useful-crew-too​ for supplying all of the screenshots for this analysis

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

A Piece of You Part 4

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Former Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: None in this one.

Author’s Note: Here is the next part. And from what I can tell you guys have been wanting this one badly! Thank you guys for being so patient with me. I appreciate it. 

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Y/N placed her bags in the trunk of her car. Fresh tears had still been running down her cheeks as she placed the last bag in and closed the trunk.

“Don’t leave.” Freya pleaded as she watched as her best friend was ready to take off. “You can hardly walk straight after that spell. Stay for the night and if you still feel like leaving in the morning, no one would stop you.”

“I can’t stay.” Y/N said with a shake of her head as she turned to face her best friend. “Not after all of this.” She brought her hand up to wipe her tears. “I’ve been so blind and I can’t even think straight.”

“All the more reason to stay another night.” Freya practically begged. She didn’t want Y/N taking off while upset, let alone still weak from the spell they had done. “I’m sure the two of you can work things out. If you want I can have Rebekah drive you to your family home and we’ll talk in the morning.”

A sad chuckle passed Y/N’s lips. “I doubt it. I just need some time on my own. Away from here. Away from New Orleans.” Freya could see how broken Y/N was at that moment. All she could do was pull her into a hug before telling her goodbye. .

“The Father doesn’t know?” The witch, Tiffany, said as she began pouring two cups of tea. 

Y/N shook her head. “It’s complicated.”

“It can’t be that complicated.” The witch was curious about what made it so complicated. 

Y/N bit down on her lip for a moment before she sighed. “I’m pregnant with a child that took numerous tries to conceive with the help of magic. Not to mention he had been sleeping around with a…frenemy of mine.”

“Okay, that is complicated.” The witch shook her head as she handed Y/N a glass. “Will you tell him?

“I want to.” She said with a nod. “He deserves to know.”

Elijah hadn’t meant to invade Y/N’s memories as he had. Her mind was still open to him after spending a majority of the night talking about Henrik. When Y/N fell asleep in the arm chair, Elijah couldn’t just leave her there. It was when he picked her up to take her to the bed did the memories flood his mind with the simple touch.

Y/N sat on the couch with a pad of paper and pen in her hand. She looked between the blank page in front of her and the sleeping baby in the bassinet next to her. She owed him this. Sighing, she began writing. 

Elijah, 

I know I left with the promise of not coming back. Turns out fate is telling me that isn’t exactly in the cards for me. I went back earlier this month. I wanted to tell you in person, but I just couldn’t. I saw you with her and I just thought of all the pain I felt and I left once more. So I’m trying this another way and I hope you understand. 

After so many failed attempts, we finally did it. We managed to bring a child into this world. I know it’s going to be hard reading about this, but it is true. We have a son, Elijah. A beautiful boy that I would gladly give my life for. His name is Henrik, just as I promised. 

.

A babbling Henrik sat in his walker as he pushed himself around the living room. Y/N’s grin was big enough that her cheeks had been hurting the last few minutes. Without another thought, she picked up a piece of paper and started writing. 

You should have seen him today, Elijah. He’s grown so much since the last time I’ve written. He started walking on his own. He just decided right then and there that he was going to take a few steps across the room. I wish you had been there to see it…

.

Y/N walked into Tiffany’s shop and tossed a stack of letters in front of her. Tiffany’s eyebrow raised as she looked at them. “What are those?”

“The letters I sent.” Y/N’s voice had sounded broken at the words. 

“He sent them back?” Tiffany asked.

“Unopened.” Y/N said with a nod. “He has no idea about Henrik.”

“Oh Y/N,” Tiffany walked around the counter and hugged her. “I am so sorry.”

But out of everything Elijah saw in the span of seconds, there was one memory that stood out the most to him.

Henrik’s laugh filled the air as he chased a few other kids around the yard. Y/N had been standing on the porch as she watched the kids. At least that was until she saw a car pull up in front of the house. 

“Henrik, Tess, Lila, I need you guys to come inside.” Y/N’s voice was loud and calm despite the fear that was building up inside of her at the unknown car. 

“A few more minutes, please.” Henrik’s voice carried over to her. 

“Now.” Y/N said as she looked over at the kids. Henrik took one look at Y/N and understood what was going on. He knew when Y/N said now, it was for his safety. She hardly spoke to them like that. 

With the other two in tow, the kids ran past Y/N and headed inside. Y/N kept her head high as she watched the car door open and out came Alric. 

“How did you find me, Ric?” Y/N asked from her spot. 

Alaric stopped for a moment taking in the woman before him. “Y/N?” He asked as he took another step closer. “I swear I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Then why are you here?” She asked, never once relaxing. 

“Would you believe I’m actually recruiting for the school?” He asked as he came to a stop in front of her. “We have a device back in Mystic Falls that shows a source of magic coming from this location. I thought I could help by offering a place at our school.”

Y/N shook her head at that information. “I’m not interested.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Alaric chuckled. “While you’d make one hell of an addition as staff, it’s actually not your power source, we’ve seen. From what I’ve put together it could be your son.”

“How did-” Panic began to build in Y/N.

“Hey,” He said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “you have no reason to be afraid. I’m here to help. I figured you of all people would know what an opportunity this would be for him.”

“Just because I know kids that are thriving there doesn’t mean it is best for everyone.” Y/N noted. “You’ve wasted a trip.”

Alaric sighed as he pulled his hand away from her. “You know, there was something about that source that had me curious.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “What?”

“It’s a lot like Hope’s.” He said as he watched her reactions. “Now I may be out of the loop on many things, but from what Hope has told me, you and Elijah were pretty close.”

Y/N scoffed and shook her head. “If we were that close Ric, I’d still be in New Orleans and not all the way out here.”

He sighed, taking a moment to rework his thoughts. “I know you, Y/N/N. I know about the tragic events your parents put you through before you met the Mikaelsons. And I know all about the stories the Mikaelsons have been through. If my assumptions are right, your son has one hell of a lineage. If the device Hope created was able to locate him, others can do the same.” It wasn’t meant to scare her. He knew what kind of dangers came with being a Mikaelson or a Y/L/N. And if he was correct in his assumptions, her child was both. 

Y/N sighed as she looked back towards the house. “Do yourself a favor, Ric. Get back in your car, and head back to Mystic Falls. We’ll be fine.” She turned and started walking back towards the house hoping he’d get the point. 

“What are you going to do when your own family finds out about him?” He called out after her, causing her to stop and look at him. “If he’s anything like Hope, I know you are already training him. But just think about it. We can have Freya and Hope help you teach him while keeping him safe.”

Y/N scoffed as she walked back over to him. “If you really know the stories of my family, you know what will happen if he goes there. We’ll bring unwanted attention back to Mystic Falls. When the time comes, I’ll be the one to decide who helps him. Not you.”

Not only Did Henrik possibly inherit his own family’s enemies, Henrik also inherited Y/N’s family’s as well. Elijah hated the thought of someone using Henrik just as they attempted to use Y/N for. 

He sighed as he placed Y/N down on the bed beside his son. Instinctively, Y/N turned over in her sleep and pulled the sleeping child closer to her. And as if Henrik had been used to it as well, he curled into her embrace before a content sigh passed his lips. 

A small smile pulled at Elijah’s lips at the sight. But it hadn’t lasted long. Just as Y/N said earlier that day, there was a reason she wouldn’t go to her childhood home. As he walked out of the room and closed the door gently behind him, he could see the several protection spells in place around the suite. 

Candles with protection sigils etched into them had been lit in several places. A long put out sage stick sat on the counter, ensuring that no one standing on the outside would be able to hear within the walls. Even the table had a protection spell in place, one that Elijah recognized fairly easily since it had been Freya’s spell. 

As he walked around the room, Elijah took in every little detail that proved even Y/N had been afraid of what was awaiting them with their return. Y/N took a risk bringing Henrik here. Their son was in more danger in New Orleans than he would be in Mystic Falls. 

Henrik’s magic was different. Y/N’s family dabbled in the darker sides of magic. And if Henrik held the potential to wield that magic, Elijah knew that anyone in Y/N’s family would be able to sense it. And if they could sense it, it would only be a matter of time before they came looking for him. 

It was with that thought that Elijah decided he wasn’t leaving them alone that night. 

_____

“Momma.” Henrik’s voice was a whisper in Y/N’s ear. His hands reached out to Y/N’s shoulder as he shook her slightly. “Wake up, there is someone in the other room.”

It took less than a second before the words registered in Y/N’s sleep filled brain. She got up out of bed quickly before pulling the charm that had been laid out next to the bed and putting it around Henrik’s neck. She held up a single finger to her lips, telling him to stay quiet, which he quickly nodded in response. 

There were a million things running through her head at that moment. All Y/N knew was that she had to get Henrik out of there, safely. The charm that was around his neck would only do so much. But it would be enough to help him get away if needed. 

Leading him over to the door, she gave him a small smile before opening the door slowly.

“Whatever it is you believe you need to do, I assure you it’s not necessary." 

Hearing the voice, a sigh of relief passed her lips before she looked back at Henrik. "It’s okay.” She said with a nod. “Just stay here while we talk.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Henrik asked not wanting to let his mother out of his sight just yet. 

She tilted her head to the door, allowing him to take a look. Henrik moved past the bedroom door for a moment before coming back. “Anything?” She asked with a small smile.

“Nothing bad.” Henrik said with a confident nod.

“That’s my boy.” She said before leaning down and kissing the top of his head. “I’ll let you know when you can come out.”

“Okay momma.” Henrik said watching as Y/N closed the door. 

“You’re still here.” Y/N’s voice was soft as she watched Elijah from her spot, her back leaning against the door. “I thought you would have left.” From where she stood she could see him standing in the kitchenette pouring batter into a pan. 

Elijah looked over his shoulder for a moment, giving her a small smile before looking back at his task. “After you fell asleep, it occurred to me how much of a risk you were taking coming back here now that Henrik is older. It wouldn’t have been me if I didn’t stay and help to protect my family.”

The words caused Y/N to roll her eyes as she pushed away from the door and walked towards him. “We are hardly even close to being a family.”

“That doesn’t mean Henrik should have only one parent looking after him.” He said as he slid the ready pancakes onto a plate before turning the stove off and looking at Y/N. “I am willing to do this on your terms. All I ask is that I get to know him.”

On her terms. She hadn’t been expecting that. While they had spent a majority of the night talking about everything Elijah missed in Henrik’s life, they hadn’t at all discussed how this was going to work between them. She expected a fight. Yet here he was just giving her control over the whole thing. 

After a moment, Y/N sighed as she came to stand beside him, her hands on the counter in front of her. “Remember yesterday how Henrik told me you were good?” She asked as she looked over at him. 

Elijah’s brows furrowed until he remembered what she had meant. During that time he had been in shock, but he had heard the words come from his son. Nodding his head, he waited for her to continue. 

“He’s got this ability to tell someone’s intentions in his life without ever needing to speak to them.” Her eyes moved away from him to her hands as they traced the designs of the counter top with her finger. “The more he gets to know the person, the deeper he can dive into that intention. While I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, he’ll know before you do if at any point you even think about turning your back on him.”

“I would never do that to him.” Elijah said as he watched Y/N begin to shake her head.

“You made that promise to me once.” She looked back at him. Elijah didn’t miss the hurt that was clear in her eyes. “You said this would be on my terms, but it won’t be up to me. You can get to know your son. I will never deny you that. Spend time with him, show him the world through your eyes. Let him see you as the man that saved me and who I fell in love with.” A sad chuckle passed her lips as she ran a hand up her arm. “But the moment he tells me you’ve changed, that’s when I’ll step in and put my foot down.”

Elijah understood exactly what Y/N had been telling him. She wouldn’t interfere with the time he asked for, nor would she make things difficult. But he knew that Y/N would make sure that Henrik wouldn’t walk away from this with a broken heart like she had.  

He placed his hand on top of her hand that was still placed on the counter. A sigh leaving his lips. “I know that it is going to take more than a few conversations for us to come close to even a fraction of what we used to be. But I need you to know that I am truly sorry for not only hurting you but making you feel that you couldn’t even trust Freya.”

“That was hard.” Y/N admitted. “There were so many things I wanted to tell her.” She paused for a moment. “To tell you. Every part of me wanted to include you and your family during the pregnancy, but every time I worked up the courage to tell you, I would think about that night. And I know you are apologizing for hurting me and I’ll accept it. But forgiving you is a whole ‘nother level.”

“I have learned from early on that your forgiveness, even your trust, is not something you take lightly.” Elijah nodded, his hand squeezing slightly on top of hers before removing his hand completely. “I would never expect you to shrug it off for my benefit.”

A small smile pulled at Y/N’s lips, disappearing a second later, as she took in his words. “As long as we both understand.” Pushing away from the counter, she took a few steps back. “I’m going to talk with Henrik, and then I’ll properly introduce you two.”

Elijah smiled. “Take your time. But I should warn you, breakfast might be cold by the time you’re done.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked back to the room. Once in with the door shut behind her, she found Henrik sitting in the middle of the bed, with her grimoire in his lap. 

“Can I learn this one?” He asked as he looked up at Y/N. 

Y/N’s head tilted as a smile grew on her lips. Walking over to the bed, she sat down next to him, looking at the spell. Her fingers ran over the page as she took the spell in. “This one wouldn’t be hard to do. If you wanted to, we could ask Freya to bring some things over and try later. But how about we talk about something first?” She asked as she gently pulled the book out of his lap. 

“Is this about who he is?” Henrik asked as he watched his mother put the book on the nightstand. “It is more than later.”

Y/N chuckled and ran her hand through his hair. “Have I ever mentioned you are too smart for your age?” Henrik just grinned up at her. “But yeah, this is about him.” She took a deep breath trying to find the right words that she needed. “You know your favorite bedtime story?”

“The one about the vampire that saves the witch?” He asked excitedly. No matter how many times, Y/N had told him that story, it had always been his favorite. He never grew tired of it. In his world of supernatural creatures, that was a positive outlook in a sometimes dimmed world.

Y/N smiled. “Yeah, that one. I was the witch that the vampire saved.”

Henrik’s eyes widened slightly. “I knew it.” He mumbled to himself and Y/N tried to hold back a laugh. “Was he the vampire?” He asked a moment later.

“His name is Elijah and he is that vampire.” She nodded. “And for a while there, after he saved me, he continued to protect me from our family that wanted to hurt me. And in return I helped him protect his family when someone wanted to hurt them. And I-we fell in love. It was a real life fairy tale to me in some ways.” She bit down on her lip a moment. “And then the only thing that was missing from our happy ending was you. And with some help of a bit of my magic, we got you.” She said with a smile. 

She watched as a look of confusion formed on his face. “But if it was a happy ending, why didn’t I know who he was?”

Y/N sighed. “Because before you were born, we got into a huge fight and mommy moved away to get a clear head. I didn’t know I had you until Aunt Tiff told me. For the longest time I tried telling your dad about you. But things got…hard and mommy was mean by keeping you away from him. And when Elijah saw us yesterday, we needed to have a long talk about you. And if you want to, he wants to spend some time with you.”

Henrik looked down at his hands and guilt filled Y/N. Maybe that had been too much to throw on him. Maybe she should have taken things slower. But she always told Henrik everything he needed to know and there was nothing she told him that he couldn’t handle yet. 

“He’s good.” Henrik said, still looking at his hands. “Right?”

“Only you will know, my love.” She placed her hands on top of his, causing him to look up at her. “If you don’t want to spend any more time with him after a while, that’s fine, okay? But it’s what you want to do. I won’t make you do this if you don’t want to. That power of yours is a great one, it will never let anything bad happen to you.”

The table had been set with breakfast. An assortment of plates covered the already small table, leaving very little space. It had been what kept Elijah busy. He had been surprised by the fact that Y/N hadn’t blocked him from hearing the conversation. To be honest, he had only caught the last part of it and it actually made him nervous. 

He now understood what Klaus had felt when seeing Hope for the first time in years. A child such as Henrik, who has known the stories of his father, was sure to have expectations. Living up to them would be a challenge that Elijah would take and hopefully live up to them. 

The tension in his shoulders released the moment the bedroom door opened. He stood in front of the table, letting Y/N take the lead on this. He wasn’t going to jump right into things if there was a possibility of making Henrik uncomfortable. 

Tightly gripping Y/N’s hand, Henrik kept himself close to her as they walked out. While normally not a shy child, Henrik was meeting his favorite person in all of the stories his mother told. To know that character that he had imagined to be so many things was his father had him nervous. But he wanted to meet Elijah. 

Y/N led him over to where Elijah had been standing. She could see the man before her was just as nervous as she and her son were. This was a big step, but if her son was ready to do it, she’d take it with him. 

Sighing, she gave Elijah a small smile. “Elijah, this is your son Henrik.” She looked at Henrik next. “And Henrik, this is your dad, Elijah Mikaelson.”

Elijah smiled at Henrik before he kneeled down to his level. He placed his hand out in a simple greeting. “It is great to finally meet you, Henrik.”

Henrik eyed Elijah’s hand before letting go of Y/N’s hand. Moving past Elijah’s outstretched hand, Henrik moved in to hug Elijah tightly. The action itself had surprised both Elijah and Y/N. “Thank you for saving momma.”

A smile pulled at Elijah’s lips as he wrapped his arms around his son. The comfort of the small arms wrapped around him had been unexpected to him, but he had enjoyed it. There were so many ways this meeting could have played out, but Elijah had been glad this had been the outcome. 

Y/N’s heart swelled at the sight before her, at the same time the guilt poked its head out as well. She never doubted for a moment that Henrik would accept Elijah into his life. But this very moment could have happened years ago if she hadn’t been so stubborn. 

“I believe your mother is very capable of saving herself now.” Elijah noted as he looked up at Y/N. He chuckled as he watched her roll her eyes at the statement. 

As Henrik pulled out of Elijah’s embrace, he began to dive right on into everything Elijah had missed in his lifetime. From the things he could remember, the details of every house they had moved into and even the magic Freya had began teaching him. 

Elijah had a grin on his face as he listened to all of the details he was giving over. Even as he stood and led Henrik over to the table to get him started on his breakfast, he listened and absorbed every piece of information he could.

Y/N watched the interaction before her from her spot. She wanted to save this moment in her mind. Henrik wasn’t upset with either of them that prevented this meeting. Henrik loved that his hero was right there in front of him, wanting to know everything about it. She loved the way Elijah had immersed himself in the conversation as if he had never missed any of it. 

She listened as Elijah began offering his input and Y/N couldn’t believe she had put this off for so long. As she watched Henrik take a bite out of the pancakes Elijah had placed in front of him, she took that moment to interrupt. 

“I’m going to let you two spend some time together.” She said as she took a few steps back towards the room. “I have a few things to get in town.” It was as she turned to continue walking that she felt Elijah grab a hold of her hand. She turned back and looked at him. 

“You don’t have to leave.” He said softly. “Have breakfast with us.”

“You need time with him.” She gave him a small smile. “I won’t be gone long.”

“Please stay.”

His words had surprised her. Not only the words but the way they had sounded to her. She nodded her head after a moment and gave him another smile. 

As they walked back to the table together, Henrik was already starting on another pancake, causing Y/N to shake her head, a smile on her face. “Slow down there, the food isn’t going anywhere.”

“She’s right.” Elijah noted as he took his seat at the small table. “There are several more where those came from. Wouldn’t want you to make yourself sick before you even start.” The eye roll that Henrik gave had Y/N and Elijah chuckling. 

“Seems your mother’s habits have been passed down.” He said as he looked at Y/N.

“Oh he’s just getting started.” Y/N grinned. “Give him time, you’ll learn he’s got more of you than he does of me.”

For the first time, the three had a meal together. It was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. This was exactly what she pictured their morning routine would be if things hadn’t changed as they had. And while she would never admit the thought out loud, she knew this was just a moment of light in the darkness that she was sure to surround them.

Always & Forever Tag: @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555

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[mypassionfortrash]

KICKS (part 8)

You and Roger finally give in to your feelings, but it doesn’t end as well as you had hoped. 

WARNINGS: Smut. NOTES: Thanks for sticking with this one – it means a lot. Sorry it’s late and really short. I’m just feeling a bit uninspired to write right now.

CATCH UP: Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven

TAGS: @jennyggggrrr​​ @sarahgurl09​​ @scorpiogemini @johnricharddeacy​​​ @brianssixpence​​ @hellohellothere12 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @internationalkpoplova @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @six-bloodyminutes @hannafuckingsucks​​ @dancingcoolcat​​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​​ ​ @inthelapofrogertaylor​​ @80s-roger​​ @just-my-sickly-pride​​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​​ @johndeaconshands​​ @loveandbeloved29​​ @toreyyyyyy @fallingprincess​​ @radiob-l-a-hblah @wineandwanderings​

Roger moved swiftly. The weight of him almost sent you flying backwards as your lips collided for the very first time. Picture perfect and just like something from a film, sparks flew inside you. Between you. Everywhere.

You clung to him. Moved with him. In a delirious push and pull. Hands in hair. Trailing down each others’ bodies. Eventually, your fingers snagged in his belt loops in a futile attempt at stability. Roger well and truly made up for lost time. He grabbed your hips and gripped your thighs. Dragged his hands all the way up your body and clawed his fingers through your hair.

It felt like a delicious eternity before Roger broke away with his pink lips parted ever so slightly. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he giggled, trying to draw in a breath. 

And then your eyes shot open. A fistful of Roger’s t-shirt in your hand, just about to tear it off. “What time is it?”

Roger slowly removed himself from you. His features dropped in disappointment.

Your heart felt like it had burrowed right to the bottom of your stomach. “Sorry… work,” you explained. 

Roger nodded and held his wrist up high enough that he could just about make out the dials. “Half eight,” he said. “Do you still want to–“

Before he could finish that sentence, your lips were glued to his again. Hopping off the work bench, you walked Roger back across the entire width of his garage. Your hands roamed every step of the way. Until you reached the Aston Martin, tucked away on the far side.

Roger gave a few playful nips at your neck. “You like the expensive ones?” he grinned.

Putting on your best doe eyes, you fluttered your lashes and sat back on the hood. “I’ve always wanted someone to fuck me on the bonnet of a pretty car if that’s what you mean. And you had better get a move on.”

Roger bit his lip and tugged down his zipper. “Fortunately for you, this one goes pretty fast.”

You lay back and spread your thighs for Roger. His breathing hitched just watching you run your fingers over the damp spot on your knickers. Just waiting for him to make the first move.

“Fuck,” he sighed, throwing himself at you. One hand tugged your underwear aside, the other grabbed the back of your neck, keeping you nose to nose with him. “You really don’t fuck around.”

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers – unrestrained and eager to please – exploring every slick, damp fold. And then he found your clit. Circle after circle felt like lightning and forced you to bury your face in the crook of Roger’s neck. God, he smelled incredible. Smoke and petrol and a hint of sweat. You could have stayed like that forever. But Roger had other plans for you.

His other hand gently guided your head back. He paused, gazing down at you. “Are you sure you’re ok with this?” 

Why did he have to do that? A pang of disappointment burned though your body. You needed him to keep going.

Roger pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m being serious here.”

“Yes, please,” you said. You grabbed his hand to try and make it move again. “Just keep doing this while you fuck me.”

Roger’s free hand wrapped around the shaft of his cock. Thick, veined and throbbing.

You looked down in awe as inch by inch Roger sank inside you while his thumb continued to tease you. Everything else in the room felt like it was spinning. 

“Feel ok?” he asked, kissing the tip of your nose.

You kissed him back and nodded.

“Lie back for me.”

Easing yourself back, you wrapped your thighs around Roger’s body. He started slow, so slow that you felt every vein, every ridge. Every time his cock brushed against that sweet spot inside you. 

You felt incredible; trembling and squeezing around Roger’s cock. So much so that he couldn’t stand up straight while he fucked you, or even focus on rubbing your clit any longer. He planted his hands on either side of your head and hunched over you, speeding up. His chest pressed against your own. “You like that?” he groaned, clawing at the expensive green paintwork.

“Yes,” you hissed. You couldn’t stop your hands from wandering between your thighs or grabbing his hair. When you were on the verge of truly sinking into another headspace, blocking everything else out, Roger took control again.

First you felt your toes touch the cold, hard concrete. Then being spun around. Soon enough you were face down, panting against the hood of his car. One leg propped up on the bumper. Roger’s fingers dug into your hips so tight that you were certain they’d leave a bruise. Every sound reverberated right to the rafters in the garage. Heated moans, and the echo of every sloppy, purposeful thrust. Delirium wasn’t far off. You could feel it building. 

He was getting close too. You could tell by the way his teeth bore into the spot between your neck and your shoulder with a muffled, guttural growl. No words needed. He needed this as much as you did. 

Towards the end, something snapped. You stared at your fogged up reflection as Roger finished inside you. But you just couldn’t let go.

He hadn’t even caught his breath or tucked his cock back in his jeans before you were back on your feet, keen to get back into the house to clean yourself up and get to work. He raked his fingers through his hair and squinted at you in the orange glow from the heater. “Did you…finish?”

You shook your head, and smoothed Roger’s shirt over your thighs. “I really should…” you trailed off, jabbing your thumb towards the house behind you. “…get ready. Work and everything.”

Roger held up his hands and took a step back. He seemed to understand.

You had only just stepped outside into the brisk morning when you peeked back over your shoulder. He stood there in the garage with his arms folded, watching you. He wore a bittersweet smile. You turned to him. “See you later?” you shrugged.

A glimmer of light returned to Roger’s big, sad eyes. “Sounds good.”

There was no other way to look at things. If Roger stopped tinkering with the Range Rover, then he would have been rallying the Aston Martin into town. But he didn’t want to look desperate. He didn’t want to take a mile when you had only just given him an inch. So he spent hours under the hood. Doing far more harm to his runaround than good. Poking at every detail of the last 24 hours in his head. 

But he couldn’t get over how soon you left.

Had he gone too far? Too rough? Did he say something?

When faced with a problem he couldn’t solve, Roger’s rage reared its ugly head. Fortunately, that only amounted to hurling a spanner across the garage when his brain couldn’t handle any more.

Wiping his hands with a rag, he called it a day in the garage. 

Thoughts of you lingered on him like your scent on his t-shirt, he couldn’t resist pressing it to his nose as he waited for the water in the shower to heat up. He needed to wash away the grime and reason his way out of this one; every stroke of his hand over his body made him burn with need and desire. Lathering the soap into his arms. Down his chest. His abdomen. His fingers curled through the wisps of hair down towards his half-erect cock.

Roger’s body felt heavy, burdened with need as he leaned against the wall. His mouth dropped open with a reserved groan when he thought back to fucking you in the garage. How touching you felt just like a religious experience; not that he believed in those. It was as close he’d get to one. His hand gripped his shaft tighter, trying to remember just how tight you felt and how you moaned for him. The scent of your hair. He screwed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to paint as vivid a picture as he could. But the details were too fuzzy. All he knew for sure was that he wanted you even more now.

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

FRIENDLY REMINDER: you’ve made it this far! Congratulations! Please, if you enjoyed reading this fic, reblog it.

You spent 20 minutes reading this for free. I spent a lot more time writing this... for nothing but the hope that you’ll share this and leave some feedback. I love writing fanfiction, but it’s really demoralising to rarely get feedback, and for tumblr’s algorithm to bury posts because no one shares them. And honestly, I don’t want to guilt you, but I’m kind of close to quitting sharing my writing on here because of it.

SO PLEASE, SUPPORT WRITERS. REBLOG FICS (EVEN IF YOU DON’T THINK YOU HAVE A LOT OF FOLLOWERS)! LEAVE FEEDBACK (EVEN JUST A KEY SMASH, DON’T BE SHY)! I’D REALLY APPRECIATE IT AND I’M SURE OTHER AUTHORS WOULD, TOO!

[alecmagnuslwb]

My Heart is a Haunted House

Read on AO3

The house before them is one of the more foreboding she’s ever seen. It’s the kind of sprawling crickety old mansions that would send Scooby Doo and Shaggy screaming into the hills. So of course they’re about to go inside of it.

“It should be easy, a quick in and out, grab the book and go,” John says entwining their fingers together and tugging her through the gates.

She’s heard him say that before, many times, and it’s almost always not true.

“Why exactly are we doing this instead of drinking all of Oliver’s free booze at the Justice league Halloween party?” she sighs trailing behind him using her free hand to keep her dress from getting too dirty.

She worked hard on her and John’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer inspired costumes this year. Her red dress and flowing coat are practically exact replicas of the ones Drusilla wore and John’s long black duster is an exact replica of Spike’s that she bought online for an amount of money she’s not too proud to admit to.

If this little outing ruins any piece they’re wearing she’s going to be so mad.

“Because I lost a bet to Richie,” he says when they reach the large door. He lets go of her hand and tugs on the knocker shaped like a lion’s mouth. She doesn’t know why he does it, it’s not like someone’s going to answer, no one’s lived here in years.

“Yeah, you lost a bet,” she says flicking her wrist and opening the door. “So why am I here?”

It’s not that she doesn’t want to help John, it’s just that this is the first Halloween in years where they haven’t caught wind of some death cult trying to sacrifice a bunch of virgins or a vampire gang taking advantage of the spooky evening to massacre a party of college alcoholics. It’s their own personal Halloween for the first time in a long time.

They get a free night to rock their kickass costumes, drink a little too much and dance borderline inappropriately together in a public space; it’s supposed to be a fun Halloween not a work Halloween and she wants to soak up every bit of it.

John chuckles looping his arm through hers and pulling her inside the dark foyer of the house.

“Because you love me and wish to support me in all endeavors,” he says conjuring a ball of light to his hand and sending it into the air to guide them to the library.

Zatanna sighs as he drags her along, “I love you. The second thing is questionable though.”

John doesn’t say anything just chuckles and runs a hand through his slicked back extra bleach blond hair. Convincing him to dye it for their costume had been easy a few kisses in the right spots and he was putty in her hands.

They follow the conjured light down a long dark hallway covered in cobwebs, furniture draped in white cloths. It all gives the house an even more spooky vibe than the outside has achieved. A few creaks and groans of old walls catch her attention, but she brushes them off continuing down the hall until the light stops directly in front of a set of large ornate double doors.

The doors are a deep dark wood, the only thing in the house that isn’t rotted, with gold sigils and ornate figure heads sticking out from them.

She recognizes some of the symbols, signs for magic and protection, a few others look a bit more dastardly and far more John’s area of expertise.

“Some of these don’t look too friendly,” she says watching as John runs his hands along the carvings.

He moves his hand in a sort of motion, “A few, but we should be fine I don’t feel any magic running through them, do you?”

She shakes her head still eyeing the door nervously and he smiles pulling the handles of the door and opening them wide. A gust of cold wind bursts out across them sending Zatanna’s hair flying back and the light that’s supposed to be guiding them sputters out. Not a good sign.

She looks at John about to say that out loud when a booming deep female voice washes over them.

“Who dares to enter my home?” the voice says and with another burst of air John and Zatanna are sent forward into the room barely staying on their feet. The lights begin flickering on and off and books start flying off the shelves.

“Fine, huh?” Zatanna says as a blur in black and white rushes past her knocking her to the ground. John attempts to rush to her side but is hit by the same blur. He’s pushed all the way back into the one bare wall groaning as his back slams into it and he’s lifted up. The boards of the wall creak violently turning and bending around his wrists and ankles keeping him in place. A rope slides loose from the curtains tangling around his face and into his mouth.

The blur zooms at Zatanna again and she rolls just fast enough out of its reach her back colliding with something hard and pointy. She lifts herself up and turns finding a stack of bare bones that are very much human and very much real.

They’re not the first people to come for a book in this library, they will however be the first to leave. First they’ll fight this entity, party their asses off and then they’ll go kill Richie for sending them in here blind.

The blur settles down in front of her and Zatanna can now see the essence of what was once a woman. Her long dark hair nearly touches the ground, her bare feet hover dripping wet and her flowing black dress whips in the air she’s circulating around them.

“You shouldn’t have come here little girl,” she growls her eyes lighting up a bright red before she reaches her long dark nails at Zatanna and sends her flying to the other side of the room. She does to her what she’s done to John securing her to the wall with old pipes and silencing her with a long curtain around her mouth.

She eyes Zatanna for a moment, Zatanna holds her star defiant and annoyed not even bothering with trying to break loose yet. The spirit hisses and averts her attention to John struggling against his bonds. She slowly hovers over to him leaving a trail of dark red water dripping from her feet as she goes.

“Such an attractive man,” the ghost says once she’s near him. She runs her long bony finger down John’s jaw her dark nails looking like they’re moment away from making a cut. “Yet, so disheveled and sad. How unfortunate.”

Zatanna works to free one of her hands. Her strongest magic may rely on the use of her voice, but she isn’t helpless like this. She focuses all her inherent magical energy to one point of her body sending it to her right arm willing it to move the pipes just enough to wiggle free.

She feels the pipes creak and move around her wrist slowly but surely working to give her space and time to get out of this mess.

It takes a moment, Zatanna’s eyes flicking up to see the spirit leaning in a little too close for comfort to John. Just as the spirit is putting one of her cold hands around John’s neck, her mouth open wide and leaning in she finally breaks a hand free from the pipes lifting up just enough to pull the curtain out of her mouth and off of her face.

“Esaeler em ylteiuq,” she whispers and she falls to the ground silently the pipes not so much as creaking as they let her go, landing on her feet like a cat. The spirit is too focused on John, taking a deep whiff of his hair that makes Zatanna cringe, to notice as she pulls an iron poker from the nearby unlit fireplace. She brandishes it like a baseball bat creeping up behind the ghost, she catches John’s eyes for a second and winks.

“He’s my disheveled, sad, attractive man,” Zatanna says earning the ghost’s attention. She turns around her dark stringy hair flipping over her shoulder. “So, hands off,” she says swinging the hot poker directly into her head.

The ghost screams and flicker in and out before disappearing altogether.

“That won’t take for long,” Zatanna says rushing to John pulling the rope from his mouth and releasing his bonds.

“Thanks, luv,” John says as drops to the ground not quite as gracefully as Zatanna had rubbing at his wrists. “Should I be offended you said disheveled and sad before attractive or am I reading into it too much?” he asks with a pout.

Zatanna shoves at his shoulder, “Shut up,” she says rolling her eyes. “We need to get this damn book, banish this spirit and-“

Zatanna freezes when she sees John’s eyes flicker behind her a look on his face that screams, oh fuck and not in a good way.

“She’s back isn’t she?”

John just nods and Zatanna turns quickly hands raising, she’s had enough of this.

“Gard siht ypeerc ssa tirips ot lleh!” she shouts flinging a black shinning burst of magic into the spirits chest. She screams immediately her body contorting and flickering in and out of being until soon enough she bursts into a thousand flickers of dark light. John grabs Zee as soon as she shatters and pulls her behind him to protect her from any gunk or dangerous feedback.

The blast leaves not a bit of proof the ghost was ever even there, just like that no fanfare or mess and she’s gone from this plane of existence.  Zatanna looks down happy to see their costumes still gleam in perfect condition. Zatanna smiles squeezing John’s hip before pulling out from behind him.

“Well now we know why Richie decided this was the favor I owed him, too scared of a ghost,” John says angrily straightening out his jacket. “Let’s find this bloody book and get out before we find out she had an equally space invading murderous sister,” he says walking over to one wall of shelves stepping over the pile of bones as he conjures another ball of light to guide them.

Zatanna heads to the far wall, she scans the spines finding the title Richie gave John and pulls the damn thing from the shelf. She stomps over to John and grabs him by the lapel of his leather jacket. She waves the book in front his eyes so he’s sees that they’re in the clear to get the hell out of there before he can even react.

“We have a party to attend,” she says pointedly dragging him out of the house so fast their guiding light can barely keep up. She seals the doors of both the library and the house with some heavy-duty magic as they go. Maybe this way if the spirit wasn’t the only thing in the house no one else will suffer the fate of those poor bones inside.  

“Next time, Richie can get his own damn book,” John says as they finally find themselves on the sidewalk again. He takes the book from her arms summoning up a quick portal and tossing the book through. Zatanna hopes it lands on Richie’s head, hard.

“Shall we?” John says holding out his arm for her, conjuring up another larger portal for the two of them. His ability, and her own frankly, to shake off attacks and monster encounters without a thought truly never stops astounding her. Zatanna smiles reaching up to fix a piece of his hair that had fallen on his forehead before linking her arm in his and happily stepping through the portal.

The party is already in full swing by the time they arrive, all the supers dressed to the nines in elaborate costumes, except for Bruce who’s wearing a tux, seemingly going as himself tonight. Zatanna eyes around the room admiring the work Ollie and Dinah, who were in charge of the festivities this year, have done. John eyes the room as well, looking for the nearest drink.

“Oh my goddess,” Zatanna says eyes glued across the room where Dinah and Ollie stand. John turns from where he’d been grabbing two large goblets of unknown liquor from a passing tray and follows her eyeline.

“Oh, I’m so glad we made it here tonight,” he says in absolute glee taking a sip from his skull shaped drink. Zatanna is too, because now for the rest of their lives they’re going to have something to hang over the heads of the great Green Arrow and Black Canary.

She grabs the second drink from John and tugs him along to greet the pair.

“Love the costumes,” Zatanna says once they reach them, John tosses his free arm across her shoulders and she leans into him with a smile. She takes a pointed sip of her drink as the pair turn to face them with wide eyes. Up close their costumes are even better.

Dinah is wearing fishnets just like she usually would, but instead of her usual blue and black tones she’s sporting a white corset and coattails and a dark wig over her usually blonde hair; Ollie’s trench coat is so accurate Zatanna is certain he stole it from one of their closets and his usually perfected goatee is gone in favor of an obvious stubble along his jaw. They make a pretty damn good Zatanna and Constantine, not quite original grade good, but good nonetheless.

“In our defense we never thought you’d show,” Dinah says recovering from her shock with a bright smile. She’s clearly nowhere near as embarrassed about this as Ollie is, which means it was definitely Dinah’s idea in the first place. “You never make it to these parties; you’re always stopping some snake demon death cult or zombie rat apocalypse.”

Zatanna and John both chuckle, both of those exact things have happened to them on Halloween before. “Finished off the death cult early this year,” she smiles. “I love the wig; you really should think about going back to your natural color.”

Dinah preens at the compliment tipping her top hat Zatanna’s way in thanks.

“You two look great as well, a perfect couples costume choice,” she smiles wrapping a hand around Oliver’s arm. “Well, second best couple’s costume.”

“Wouldn’t that technically still make us the best since we’re the genuine article?” Zatanna says with a smirk.

Dinah scrunches up her nose. “Touché.”

John snorts and reaches out pulling the cigarette from Oliver’s mouth and sighing.

“Fake smokes, come on now if you’re gonna perfect the look you’ve gotta let the chain smoking be a character guide,” he says with a teasing smile tossing the fake cigarette back at Oliver and patting him on the shoulder. Oliver finally breaks from his wide-eyed surprise and just glares.

“Come on you two, there’s a party to be had and you never get to enjoy them,” Dinah says tilting her head at the dance floor.

John tosses back the rest of his drink and then the rest of Zatanna’s before grabbing her hand.

“Eyeballs to entrails, my sweet,” he says altering his accent just slightly and quoting the character he’s sporting tonight.

Zatanna smiles a wicked smile tilting her head to John’s before pulling him out to the dancefloor, finally getting to really enjoy their Halloween.

[flightofaqrow]

mothering (on mother’s day)

qrow + Sun Wukong ( @ultravioletvoleur​ )

fighting clearly hadn’t been what was on the kid’s mind. maybe he just wasn’t thinkin’ at all; he definitely isn’t right now as words tumble from his mouth, barely coherent. qrow still doesn’t need to hear these things about his niece, but he’ll let this one slide.

Sun leans his back against the wall, tail swaying to and fro. His face spoke to the internal conflict he was struggling with when it came to this, “I was hoping I could actually… Ask for your advice?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Quick update, may wanna say Happy Mother's Day to your niece. ...Kaybye!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

qrow whips open Harbinger faster than a nevermore diving upon its prey, and fires a warning shot off as Sun makes a break for it, near missing the base of his tail.

he knows the kid well enough by now, and trusts Yang even more, than to truly buy into the implications of his statement. oh, but if playing this cat and mouse game makes the cheeky monkey so happy, qrow will absolutely go a round.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“YIPE!”

That was a much faster reaction than he’d anticipated, barely making it ten feet before the crack of exploding gunpowder rang out. There was a hole smoking in the wall in front of him- dangerously close to banana height, and Sun began sweating. He turned very jerkily, with the closest approximation of a cocksure grin he could manage through his abject terror.

“Oh, uh. D-did you… Need something?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

well, at least qrow got to make a point, should he ever actually need to act on teaching the kid a thing or two. alternatively, about picking fights one may not be able to win. a similar tough past he may have, thieves at least tended to work from codes of honor. not every struggle is the same.

he prods, sarcastic, feigned anger lining the sharp curve of narrowed eyes, sword still deployed at his side, “what in all of remnant makes you think you can just say things to me?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There is a very audible gulp as the Hunstman advances on him. Every other time they’d traded barbs, he’d gotten the sense that Qrow was something of an old glory days kind of person, who had lost their touch a bit. However, that split second action, and the pointed glare burning through his confidence like a hot knife through butter, told him a whole new story.

Qrow Branwen was what his nightmares were made of.

“Well you see I thought we were buddies and I thought you would know it was a joke I swear I haven’t laid a hand on your niece like that I would never well not never possibly in the future but definitely not right now not that I don’t think she’s attractive she’s very attractive oh but that’s not the only reason-”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tch. forever a curse, even at his best. maybe he laid on the drama a bit too thick. honestly, he thought a bit of zeal is something Sun could appreciate. he’s far too much talk still, isn’t he? all bright light and translucent beaming rays which still questioned their own substance. he might be further ahead than he seemed at first, but still has a ways to go. …kids these days.

“of course I knew it was a joke, golden boy.” qrow folds away his weapon, drops his stance, while raising a brow. he lessens his posturing, but not his attention, hand still remaining on Harbinger’s hilt in the case of some trick.

“but I also took it as a taunt, tellin’ me you’re finally ready for a real man’s brawl. heh, guess i was wrong.”

fighting clearly hadn’t been what was on the kid’s mind. maybe he just wasn’t thinkin’ at all; he definitely isn’t right now as words tumble from his mouth, barely coherent. qrow still doesn’t need to hear these things about his niece, but he’ll let this one slide.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“What?!”

He’d almost lost his stones by way of his ass for a sassback?! Their Uncle was even more intimidating now, and he was going to die on that hill. Still, though, knowing that he wasn’t actually angry was a huge relief. The tension left his body and he slumped down with a sigh-

And then he noticed Qrow’s weapon was still out and ready.

“He-hey, uh. N-no need for that. I didn’t come here looking for a fight. I actually wanted to get you riled up so we could then use that energy into doing something for her. I- I know her situation with her mom isn’t great. I dunno the specifics, that’s for her to tell me when she’s ready, but…” He trailed off, trying to find the words.

“Well, I guess… I just want to make today lively for her, instead of having people walking on eggshells around her. Make her excited and happy that today happened, rather than add it to a growing pile of disappointing holidays.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“you moron,” finally, he fully releases, instead staring dumbfounded at the other. he really did think he could just come around and say whatever, and still get his way without consequences. what single-minded, reckless, stupid drivel. yeah, qrow had been an idiot brained teen at one point, but seriously never that bad. he didn’t have that kinda energy. different plans took different tactics, did they not teach anything at Haven or Shade anymore?

“i don’t need to be ‘riled up’ to do something for my family, kid. couldn’t you just ask like a normal person? i promise you, me bein’ jazzed up ain’t the kinda lively she needs.”

eyes now round with sadness; his chest deflates; pointed corners of his mouth turn down. it’s too close to the belligerence he used to have - unprovoked, but drunk. he’s trying so hard to be better than that. for a lotta reasons, but Yang too.

he breathes in, and out, fingers running in and out over his forehead. once satisfied in processing all these thoughts, in having switched gears, he turns to Sun once more, hopefully coming off with the same rational attitude he wants in return, “so, then, turn your brain and your sense of respect on, and just tell me what you had in mind, huh?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Well… That’s kinda the thing. I was hoping I could actually… Ask for your advice?”

He leans his back against the wall, tail swaying to and fro. His face spoke to the internal conflict he was struggling with when it came to this. In truth, he’d wanted to go about this like a normal person, more than anything. Something in him, however, be it a defense mechanism or just a general need for attention he’d never really received drove him to do everything to an excess.

Truth be told, nobody hated Sun’s antics more than he, himself.

“I… I’m going to try to be serious here, for a minute. It’s- It’s not something that comes easy.” He sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m… scared. I’m really, truly scared, Qrow, of how she makes me feel. How much it would hurt to lose her, or even see her hurting. I just get so caught up in my own head that I can’t think straight, and… I’ve never…”

Another sigh. “I’ve never had a family before. So I don’t know what to do to help someone who’s mourning theirs. But I see her hurting, and I want to help, and when I came to you, I swear, I wanted to just ask, but. …That would mean… Admitting I love her.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

oh, here we go. this roller coaster again. what about his look or his life or any of his choices made him seem like someone to go to for advice? qrow barely scraped his own life together, and still dropped the pieces too many times. but somewhere along the line, somewhere in just trying to do good - for his team, for Oz, for his family, for Ruby, something must have slipped in to his very psyche, huh.

Ruby somehow always knows the right thing to do. Yang had told her.

I had good role models. Ruby had told him.

he’s cursed. and he wrestles with it every damn day. and while he’d never call it a good thing, maybe some people see themselves in that same fight. maybe he sees himself in theirs and their struggle to understand and express themselves, and that’s why even in the times he wants nothing to do with other people and their decisions, and he’s sure he’ll just mess everything up, he can’t help but listen. he can’t turn them away. doing so would do nothing to mend the wounds of a broken world. and in the end, continuing to try is the only way to stick it to Salem.

he takes a spot next to the young man against the wall, knee bending and sole kicking up as he leans, crosses his arms, turns his head to Sun and fixes his gaze on him.  

“yeah. loving people is scary. probably means you’re doin’ it right.”

qrow doesn’t know a damn thing about romance. not like that, anyway. he’s never been brave enough to face that very fear, to let someone that intimately close. almost, sometimes, maybe. somehow his chances always disappear before he’s quite there, only confirming those very fears. a great and terrible feedback loop, that. although, he can’t say such words are entirely unfamiliar; admittedly, the whole conversation is nostalgic. thrice over. he laughs, a bittersweet little huff, “…you sound just like her parents.”

that kinda love he knows, found, eventually. family. and if you ask him, they’re equally as scary to think of losing. “our family has never been the typical picket fence dream either, so don’t think you’re missin’ pieces of some non-existent normal. there’s no big secret about bein’ one, kid. you just gotta be there for each other.”

a palm-down hand raises to sweep across his body in a dismissive motion, “an’ not everything has to be some grand production to top the one before. trust me, i’ve screwed that up enough times to know.” qrow looks towards the ground, slides the toe of his shoe back and forth. “Yang, she… she’s used to people comin’ and goin’ in her life. if they come back at all. so, seriously… just go to her. be with her. she’s a tough egg, and too smart. she’ll tell you what she needs if you can just shut your giant trap enough to let her.”

[superhero--imagines]

<--- Part 3 Here!  /  Part 5 Here! (Last Part)--->

A/N: I’m going to do one more part, and then a Light + Dark ending. 

To my usual followers who didn’t come here for star wars content, I’m so sorry. Usually I make separate blogs for different content, but then when I lose interest/get busy, I neglect the blog, and then I realize I haven’t made content in a while, and then I get anxiety and keep pushing it off, and then I feel bad because I put all this effort into this project, and didn’t carry out. It’s just a whole negative feedback loop. So from now on I’ll make a separate tab for different fandom imagines, and keep a separate master list. I refuse to change my username though because I’ve had it for 4 years, and I refuse to let it go (lol). 

Anyway hope you’re having a good day :)

* “That’s so rad!” 

*Ben can’t help but smile, it’s nothing all that impressive, he just made a few flowers bloom for you

* But your smile as you walk though the garden, leaning over to smell the perfume of the hibiscus flowers:

* It’s like he hung the moon for you

* It’s well worth the trade off of his life force

* “Rad? Is that a new word from back home”

* He doesn’t miss how you freeze when he brings it up

* He hadn’t meant anything when he said it, he certainly didn’t mean to make your smile constrict like that

* “Yeah, it is”

* You get that look on your face again, the one he’s seen since childhood

* You’re eyebrows are strung together, and your hands tremble slightly

* Your eyes remained fixed on the flower in front of you

* Ben has always wondered what it is you think about when you get like this

* What he can do to ease your mind

* He rests a hand on your shoulder, his hand is so big against your shoulder, it’s three times larger at least

* Just like that you spark back to life

* “Shall I guide you to the Queen’s rose garden, Ambassador?”

* “Yes,” a gentle smile curling on to your lips “that sounds lovely”

* A part of him was worried that you had changed, five years is a long time after all

* But watching you frolic in the meadow, carefully threading small white flowers together in a crown;

* You’re still the girl he remembers

* “There!” You say, placing the flower crown on his head

* “Now you look like a prince”

* Ben feels his face grow warm, he’s sure his face is practically red by now

* “I’m a Jedi Knight, not a prince” he tells you, and you grin

* “You’re my prince and I’m your knight, remember?”

* If he wasn’t sure of his blush before, he certainly is now

* Why would you bring that up?

* But Ben isn’t one to back down

* “No, you’re my Princess and I’m your knight.”

* Your cheeks bloom with color, almost as red as the roses that surround you

* That’s an awfully pleasing expression

* “I’m not a princess, just an Ambassador” you mumble, Ben’s ego continues to swell

* It’s almost as big as his head, before promptly deflating when he see’s Poe waiting for you in your suite

* “Ambassador, I’m going to the bazaar to look for parts, would you like to join?”

* So the boy wasn’t just apart of his imagination

* He’s not quite sure how to feel, but he knows he does not feel good

* You eyes light up as soon as you hear the word ‘bazaar’

* Well, it’s not as if he can monopolize all your time

* “You’ll come with us, won’t you Ben?”

* You look up at him with stars in your eyes, and he feels that nostalgic warmth bloom inside his chest

* Then, as if you just realized he might not know who this man is, your eyes light up

* “Ben, this is Poe” you gesture to the handsome boy, with hazel eyes, and the strong nose, who’s made Ben feel bile in his throat for years now “and Poe, this is my best friend Ben!”

* He should be happy you called him your best friend, but in this situation, it just makes him feel empty

* They share a handshake, but he can feel the tension in the air

* “So did you make that light saber on your own?” Poe nods to his weapon of choice attached to his hip

* “Yeah, Lu- Master Skywalker makes us all make our own”

* Poe’s eyes are practically sparkling

* “Can you show me how?”

* Poe is actually a very nice person. Ben understands why you would want to be his friend

* “You know, it’s all about getting to that sweet spot when you’re piloting”

* “I agree, the feeling as you’re just about to leave the planet’s atmosphere-“

* “Oh, man” Poe claps a hand on Ben’s shoulder “I know”

* Ben wants to hate him, but he’s such a cool guy

* They laugh and joke all the way to the bazaar

* Ben feels a chill, and notices he hasn’t heard you say anything for a while

* You must be annoyed, you probably feel left out of the conversation

*It adds up, you probably didn’t expect to be the third wheel in this situation

*He looks over, and the slight tremor from before, becomes a blizzard in his chest

* You’re wearing a cloak, but he can still make out your expression

* Eyes dead set on the ground, your hand trembling

* You’re not annoyed, it’s worse than that

* It’s that face again

* He isn’t quite sure what to do, he can’t call out to you in this situation

* He can’t attract attention

* frosty white teeth dip into the tender flesh of your bottom lip, your hands clenched so tight, Ben’s sure there will be crescents left on your palm

*But he can’t just watch you tormented like this either

* He catches the glimmer of gold, and an idea strikes him

* His hand rests on your arm

* “Do you like it?” He motions towards the pale pink gemstone ring in front of you

*  It’s slow, but you relax under his touch

* And just as slowly the chill begins to subside, left with a comforting warmth

* Oh

* These are your emotions

* He’s felt this way around you since childhood, so he never noticed

* All along he’s been feeling your emotions

* Those times when he felt lonely, and you were a galaxy apart, when he felt this warmth

* It was you

* It was always you

* He’s tosses a gold coin to the shopkeeper, and slides the ring on to your finger

* “Ben, it’s not even my size!” Your face blooms with color, as red and lovely as the rose’s you love so much 

* He just smiles

* “We’ll get it adjusted then” he leans down to whisper in your ear, and your flush only darkens

* That expression looks good on you

* He can’t help but grin

* He slides the ring down your ring finger

* “Seems to fit fine to me”

* “Ben do you-“ you look up at him with wide earnest eyes

* “I think I got all the parts I need!” Poe interrupts, carrying a crate full of various parts

* “Let’s head back then” you mumble, wrapping the clock around you just a big tighter

* “Did I interrupt something?” Poe asks, and Ben can see from his aura he’s genuinely clueless 

* Well that makes two then

* The walk back is silent, with Poe trying to break the tension, only to recieve a one word response

* “Did you have fun?”

* “Yes”

* “What was your favorite part?”

* “All of it”

* Poe decides to head to the ship, either to give you some space, or to avoid the awkward situation

* Ben walks you back to your quarters in complete silence

* “Well, see you tomorrow morning” You tell him

* He moves to turn away, but stops

* “She hates you now”

* He doesn’t want to leave like this

* Before you can open the door, he places a large hand in front of you, smack dab on the middle of the door

* “Have I upset you in some way?”

* His hand is planted firmly on the door, a few inches above your head

* You’re so small now, he hasn’t noticed before. You’re almost a whole foot shorter than him

* When you were kids, you were taller than him

* You look up at him, with large expressive eyes, bashfully glancing down

* “N-no, it’s just, I’m just-“ you cut your own words off, toying with the ring he bought you

* He’s never seen you like this before, face flushed, shuffling anxiously

* “I’m embarrassed” you mumble, looking away from him

* “Because of the ring?” His hand moves to hold yours without even thinking, and your blush only deepens

* You really are as lovely as a rose

* “A man shouldn’t buy jewelry for a woman unless he’s in love”

* Is that all?

* “That’s fine, because I do love you” the words tumble out of his mouth before he can process what he’s saying

* He’s a bit embarrassed, but he doesn’t regret it

* He loves you, he’s loved you since he was a child and you would follow after him like a hatched newborn

* When you would throw rocks at his window in the middle of the night

* Even when you would stick your nose into all of his business

* He’s awfully fond of you, you should know that by now

* Instead you sigh, slipping your hand out of his

* “Not like that Ben,” the flush is gone, you look older when you look at him now, tired

* “Romantic love”

* What the hell has romantic love got to do with it? Love is love isn’t it?

* Noticing his puzzled expression you add:

* “You know, when you love someone so much it almost hurts you. You think about them all the time, and you miss them when you’re apart, even if it’s just for a day. And whenever something happens, they’re the first person you want to tell”

* “Have you ever felt that way about someone?” The question leaves him without restraint 

* You smile, but it’s without joy, and look at him with those same, tired, eyes.

* “Maybe once or twice”

* Ben feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach

* He doesn’t know why but the thought that you had loved someone, loved them like that, before

* It makes him so sad

* “You’re not the only person who has her heart”

* “Keep the ring” he rushes to put on a smile, but he’s sure it looks forced “consider it payment for all those years you were my knight”

* At that you laugh, and the feeling on Ben’s stomach gets a bit better

* Against his better judgment, he reaches for you hand once more, careful not to hurt you

* And presses his lips to your ring finger

* “I’ll see you tomorrow Princess”

* Ben doesn’t remember how he gets back to his living quarters, or even how he ends up in his bed

* What he does remember is the dream he had that night

* You were in a pair of lacy red panties and a bra, and nothing else

* Hair falling in wild waves over your shoulders

* You held him so well, wrapped yourself around him so well

* He rested his hands on your hips, you felt so soft

* Then, all at once, you crumble against his chest

* You’re so small, your head buried in his neck

* “Ben, please”

* He wakes up with a start, groaning when he checks under his blanket

* The perfect start to a perfect day

* Elsewhere you wake up in quite the same manner, awkward and embarrassed

* You have the soul of a 40 year old at this point, yet you’re still at the mercy of this hormone laden body

* “This is going to be a long week”

Tags: @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark​ @treestarrrrrrrr​ @treblebeth​ @crazynocturnalkiki​  @lokilover-39​

[temilyrights]

the case of us (chapter eight)

Jack Sloane x Reader

Word Count: 4658

A/N: I just kept adding more to this chapter and couldn’t seem to stop so it’s a long one (again!) 2 more chapters after this i believe and then this story will be coming to a close.  Anyway, as always, feedback is welcome and very much appreciated :)

Read on AO3

Chapter Seven  Chapter Nine

Ducking under the police tape you make your way onto the crime scene. Police officers were dotted around, and members of the public were beginning to surround the tape to see if they could spot what was happening, but you pay them no mind as you head towards the body. Jimmy’s already there when you arrive. “What we got?”

“Woman, early 20’s. Death is more than likely because of the knife sticking out of her neck.” You move round to get a better view of the victim as Jimmy talks. Stopping dead in your tracks, your whole body freezing up when you see Sam lying on the floor staring up at you. Apart from it’s the Sam you knew in college, hair dark with bright pink ends now turning red as they stick to the blood dripping down her neck. Her eyes are wide and frozen in fear and your heart hammers in your chest as her eyes bore into yours and blood begins to seep out of them and down her cheeks. The bright red standing out against her ghostly skin. 

“Y/N...” Sam breathes. You can’t do anything but watch, paralysed in fear as tears begin to stream down your face. “You did this to me. I’m dead because you were too late!” Sam’s voice is cold, matching the glare in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You croak. “I’m so sorry Sam. I’m so sorry.” Your eyes squeeze tightly shut, arms wrapping around yourself as you fall to the floor and deep sobs wrack through you. 

“Y/N.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“Y/N!” Your eyes snap open, your body shaking as you take deep laboured breaths looking around the room manically as you take in your surroundings. You’re in your living room, on the couch. “Hey, you’re safe. It was just a nightmare.” You focus on the words, on Jack’s soothing presence as she holds you close, a hand wiping the sweat-soaked hair from your face. Your whole body is trembling and you reach for Jack’s free hand, your sweaty palm grips hers tightly as you try to calm yourself down focusing on her stream of soothing words. 

“I’m...Sorry.” You say between deep breaths, voice hoarse as your body begins to relax, your heartbeat returning to a normal rhythm. You can’t look at Jack as embarrassment floods through you. You’d both been watching a movie together and you must have drifted off. Jack turns your head to face her with a finger to your chin, a kind smile on her face despite the concern in her eyes. 

“Are you ok?” You nod, unable to find the words. Jack starts to detangle herself from you, your whole body goes to protest but she only reaches for the glass of water on the table, handing it to you and easing back into the couch. You take small sips from the glass, allowing it to soothe your throat. “Did you want to talk about it?” 

You shake your head as images of Sam’s dead body flash through your mind. You both sit together for a while, Jack distracting you with light conversation, hands still tightly gripped together as your head rests on her shoulder. She only stops when there’s a ping from her phone. You can feel the hesitation in her body as she decides between staying with you or looking at her phone. It could be work so you make the decision for her, moving your head from her shoulder and letting go of her hand. Jack smiles at you before moving to the other side of the couch to her phone. 

“Work?” You croak, voice dry from not being used.

Jack chuckles as she reads the text, shooting a quick response before dropping the phone back on the couch and returning to her seat next to you. “Nope, just Gibbs.”

“If you need to go-” 

“I’d much rather be here.” Your face spreads into a wide smile, stomach fluttering with butterflies at the conviction in her tone and the soft smile she sends you. You pull yourself from the couch, desperate to get out of your clothes which now stink of dry sweat. Jack’s own shirt is stained with a mixture of your tears and sweat and your embarrassment from earlier returns.

“I’m going to go jump in the shower quickly. Feel free to grab one of my shirts that isn’t covered in my slobber.” You duck your head as Jack looks down to her shirt, surprise covering her face. 

“I hadn’t even noticed. Thank you.” You disappear to the bathroom while Jack heads in the direction of your bedroom.

When you return 20 minutes later, in a pair of comfy pyjamas, Jack’s sitting on your couch now sporting your old college t-shirt. Your heart flutters at the sight, probably enjoying seeing Jack in your clothes a little too much.

“Feeling better?” Jack asks when she notices you entering the room. Her feet are tucked underneath her and she’s drinking, what you assume to be, coffee. You take your seat and Jack hands you a mug.

“Thank you and yep, much better.” You take a sip, your suspicions confirmed, and you wonder how Jack always manages to make the best coffee. “It was about Sam, the nightmare.” Jack reaches out squeezing your hand before releasing it again. Jack was always a touchy person but tonight was a whole other level and you were basking in it, butterflies exploding through your stomach each time. “I get them occasionally, but they’ve been happening a lot more the last couple of weeks.” 

“That’s going to happen with the 6-month anniversary being tomorrow.” Jack smiles sadly. “I know I’ve already said this but seriously, if you want something, anything, tomorrow I’m just a phone call away, ok?” 

You chew your lip, the idea you’d been tossing around your head the last couple of days coming to the front of your mind. “I’m going to Great Falls in the morning, it’s the place I feel most connected to her, it brings back a lot of good memories. Do you think you’d want to join? It’d be nice to have the company. I mean if you aren’t busy or if you don’t want to that’s-”

“I’d love to.” Jack cuts you off with a soft smile. 

“Ok. Cool.” Your face lights up into a wide grin. Your head signals to the tv where the movie is sitting paused. “Do you want to continue the movie?” 

“Sure.” You press play and the both of you sink into the couch next to one another, coffee mugs in hand and despite the space on the couch, sides pressed together. 

----

“Hi, Y/N.” Robert sighs, patting your shoulder as he slowly lowers himself down onto the grass next to you despite his knee’s protests.

“Hey, Robert.” You offer the man a sad smile. “I can’t believe it’s been 6 months.” Your eyes tear up and Robert pulls you into a side hug, placing a kiss to your head.

“Me either.” You’re both quiet for a while after that. Just sitting in your own thoughts as you think about Sam. The bouquet of red, yellow and white flowers stand out against the granite headstone, you’d made sure to buy them fresh this morning and they bring a small smile to your face as you think back to the apartment you’d shared with Sam and how’d she’d always made sure to have at least one vase of fresh flowers at all times. 

“I should be going, I told Jack I’d be at hers by 9.30.” You sigh, your bottom had long since gone numb as you’d been sitting on the grass for about an hour. You pull your head up from where it was resting on Robert’s shoulder and push yourself up into a standing position, wiping the loose grass from your trousers in the process. 

“I’ll walk you to your car.” You hold your arm out and Robert uses it for support as he stands. You look back at Sam’s grave as you both walk slowly to the car, smiling sadly before turning back to Robert.

“How’s work been?” 

“Busy.” You laugh. “It’s been one case after another, which isn’t unusual, but doesn’t make it any less exhausting.” 

Robert smiles knowingly, his eyes lighting up with old memories from his time as a lawyer. He hums. “Yes, I remember that feeling...And are you seeing anyone? Jack maybe?” 

Your eyes widen in shock, steps momentarily faltering as you clear your throat. “No. Jack and I are just friends.” 

“You talk about her a lot for someone who’s just friends with her,” Robert smirks. You’d spoken about her a lot at your lunch a couple of weeks before but that’s because he’d asked about your healing lip and that meant a brief overrun of the case (and you definitely did not mention the kiss! It hadn’t been mentioned between you and Jack at all since it happened, despite it constantly playing on a loop in your head).  

“I speak about her a normal amount!” You try to protest but Robert’s smirk just widens, and you roll your eyes deflating. “Fine. I may have some feelings, but she’s my co-worker and it would be too messy if it didn’t last.” You shrug. You’d said the same thing to yourself constantly the past couple of weeks because it would be messy and you didn’t even know if Jack was interested in you in that way anyway and you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself or jeopardise your friendship. 

Robert suddenly stops, turning you around to face him with a hand to your arm and a serious expression, sadness shining in his eyes. “You light up when you talk about her, and from what you’ve said she seems like someone who’d be worth the risk. Don’t you think?” 

“Of course, but-” 

“Yes, there’s the possibility of awkwardness for a while if she doesn’t feel the same way, but Y/N… if she does…” You squeeze your eyes shut as your heart flutters with possibility. “I just want you to be happy.” 

“I know, and I am happy.” Robert sighs as you both continue walking again. Your eyes dart to Robert and then away again as you bite your lip. “How’s Felicity?” 

“She’s okay, the 6-month anniversary has hit her hard but she’s gaining control of her anger and she’s working full time again.” 

“That’s good.” You both stop when you reach your car. “I’ll see you next week.” You pull Robert into a hug and he squeezes you tight.

“Love you kid.”

“Love you too.” You pull away and with one last small smile get into your car and head to Jack’s. 

----

You’d texted Jack to let her know you were on your way and when you arrive she’s just locking up her house. Your eyes can’t help but trail over her toned legs as she makes her way towards the car with a smile. She’s wearing khaki green shorts that fall to mid-thigh, dark brown hiking boots and a simple white t-shirt. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and covered by a black baseball cap. She looks glorious and as she slides into the car, dumping her backpack by her feet, your chest flutters. “Morning.” 

“Morning. Sleep well?” You ask, putting the car into drive. 

“Out like a light.” Jack grins. “You?” 

“Eh, alright…” You shrug. You hadn’t gotten more than 4 hours sleep but you hadn’t expected any more not when you couldn’t stop thinking about Sam. Jack had left last night after the movie had ended and you’d been up for hours afterwards using your restlessness as an opportunity to finish the housework you’d been neglecting and distracting yourself with an old cold case file. Jack’s hand reaches out to your knee, a sad smile on her face.

You sniff, feeling your emotions well up and try to play them off with a laugh. “Ugh. I promise I’m not going to be a blubbery mess today.” 

“I wouldn’t mind if you were. I’m here for you today Y/N, whatever you want.” You’d usually tease her with a suggestive comment about ‘whatever you want’ but today you just offer the blonde a smile and then turn your attention back to the road. Jack removes her hand and you try not to miss the comfort of her touch. 

It’s an hour’s drive to the park so you end up putting the radio on when your conversation dulls. You listen, fascinated, as Jack sings along quietly. Her voice is so soft, and you could easily spend hours listening to her. “I didn’t know you could sing.” 

Jack’s face goes scarlet as her words trail off. She clears her throat. “Oh, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can.” You cut her off, smirking. “I’m going to have to take you to karaoke night.”

“No! Absolutely not. Singing in the shower, yes.” (You try hard not to think of that image) “Singing when cooking, yes. Singing in public? I’d rather be shot.” 

You roll your eyes at her dramatics, laughing. “Alright.” It’s a few minutes later that warmth spreads through your chest when you realise what it means for Jack to sing in your company. You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. 

----

“Oh wow, this place is beautiful.” Jack’s eyes dance with wonder as you walk the path through the tree’s side by side. 

“Yeah, it is.” You breathe. Jack’s watching you curiously and you can see the questions in her eyes. You release a nervous chuckle. “Uh, sophomore year of college. We’d just finished our final day of exams. I had my psych one, which I’d been stressing about for weeks and was convinced I had failed afterwards.” 

Jack laughs. “And you ended up passing with flying marks?” 

“3rd highest in the class.” Your cheeks tinge pink as Jack smirks, bumping her shoulder against yours. “So, Sam said we needed a break, so I didn’t wallow in self-pity. She’d been here before a couple of times and thought it might be somewhere I would like. She was right. It became a frequent hangout spot. I stopped coming after the whole Sam and Felicity situation but since she died...It’s been the place I feel most connected to her.” You shrug.

“Well, I’m honoured you’re allowing me to intrude.” Jack smiles softly. 

“Not an intrusion Jack.” You smirk. Your fingers brush against hers causing you to cough as you try to dampen the blush spreading over your cheeks. You snatch your hand away, moving to twiddle your own fingers together in an attempt to play it off as nothing, Jack shoots a curious look in your direction, but you pretend not to notice as you avert your eyes.

You both fall into easy conversation as you hike through the trees. You tell her stories of you and Sam, and Jack listens with interest. She barely contains her laughter when you tell her the story of the time you’d almost gotten lost as you’d walked off the marked path and into the trees. She tells you stories about her time in San Diego, about how her relationship with Faith was developing. You were so happy she was getting the opportunity to get to know her daughter. Jack’s face lit up with pure joy and love every time she mentioned her. 

You eventually find your way to the bridge you’d said goodbye to Sam at 6 months ago. Jack’s words trail off as you make your way into the clearing. “Oh wow.” She breathes and you watch her closely as her face lights up. She looks absolutely stunning; her mouth opens in awe as you make your way onto the bridge. The water rushes loudly beneath you, the sun shining brightly down on you both as a slight breeze whistles through the trees.  Jack tilts her head up as she closes her eyes breathing in the smell of nature and savouring the feel of the rays of sun on her face. 

“I thought you might like it here.” You smile softly and Jack turns to look at you. She looks so content, a small smile on her face as her nose scrunches up and eyes squint as the sun shines in them. She looks adorable. Your eyes fall to her mouth, glued to the way her teeth tugs at her plump lip. She takes a step closer, causing your breath to catch. Your eyes go back to Jack’s and she holds your gaze, her brown eyes shining with something you don’t recognise.

“Really is beautiful.” Jack breathes. Your heart beats loudly in your chest at her words, you can’t help but wonder if she’s talking about you or the view. She smirks before stepping away and turning back to the view as if it were nothing. Clearing your throat, you turn around too, hoping your confusion wasn’t showing on your face.

“This is my favourite place. Fewer people because they all head to the proper viewing points so you aren’t distracted by the noise of them. You can just close your eyes and breathe.” You follow the actions as you talk, taking a deep breath as you savour the sounds around you. Jack’s arm brushes against yours bringing a smile to your face. You both stay like that for a while, enjoying the sounds with your arms pressed against one another, you don’t think you’d ever felt such peace. 

You make your way down closer to the river. Finding a space free of people, you sit on the large rocks and both eat the lunch you’d packed. Afterwards, you head back, deliberately taking the longer route to Jack’s place, not wanting the day to end, and if Jack notices she doesn’t say anything.  

Before you know it you’re back outside her house. Popping open the boot of your car, you follow Jack as she fishes out her bag, shutting the boot with a click as she slides her backpack on. “Thank you for today.” You say awkwardly. 

“I had a great morning, thank you for inviting me.” Jack leans back against the boot of your car and you have to make a conscious effort to not let your eyes trail down her body.

“I’ll see you Monday then.” 

Jack’s head tilts, brows furrowing as she pushes herself off your car. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m off to San Diego tomorrow.” 

Your smile falters “Oh, no you didn’t. How long for?” 

“They want help on a case, so it depends how long it lasts. Shouldn’t be more than the week though.” 

You really shouldn’t be upset at the prospect of not seeing Jack for one week. “Oh, well, I hope it goes well. Maybe you’ll even get the chance to go surfing again.” 

Jack hums, her face lighting up. “A girl can dream, but if I do get the chance, I’ll make sure to send photos.”

You clear your throat, face heating up as images of Jack surfing in a tight wetsuit fill your mind. Jack’s smirking as if she knows exactly what you’re thinking. Which totally isn’t a possibility...right? “Right...Then I’ll see you soon. Let me know when your flight lands.” 

“Will do.” Jack grins, waving goodbye as she makes the way up the path to her house and you get back into your car. 

----

Apart from a few texts on Sunday, which were just Jack confirming she’d gotten to San Diego safely, you hadn’t heard from her and it was now Wednesday. You hadn’t realised just how used you were to seeing Jack most days until now. You kept expecting her to appear in the bullpen or be waiting in the observation room when you arrived. Yesterday you’d automatically made your way to Jack’s office to drop off her morning coffee only to be reminded she wasn’t here when you couldn’t open her office door. You missed her, missed seeing her face. 

You could just text her, you should just text her but you were trying to hold out just to prove to yourself that your feelings for the blonde weren’t getting out of control. It wasn’t working and every minute the urge to text her was growing stronger, your eyes constantly going to your phone in the hopes she’d text first. 

“Are you even listening?” Your eyes snap away from your phone and to Ellie who’s sitting opposite you, brows raised. The rest of the team had gone home for the night but you and Ellie had gotten into this cold case and before you knew it, it was 2 hours later and you were sitting on the floor in the middle of the bullpen eating Chinese food and discussing theories. 

Your face heats up as you flash her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. What were you saying?” 

“Just text her.” Ellie rolls her eyes. 

“She’ll be back in a few days and I don’t want to bother her.”

“I think it’s literally impossible for you to bother her.” Ellie quips. “Anyway, she’d probably appreciate the distraction. Apparently, one of the Agents she’s working with is driving her up the wall.” 

“You’ve spoken to her?” Ellie’s brow shoots up in a way that says ‘seriously’. Your duck your head. “Right of course you have.” Because she isn’t avoiding Jack to prove a point to herself. “I’ll message her later.” 

Ellie rolls her eyes, smirking. “Sure, you will.” She looks to her watch, eyes widening in surprise. It prompts you to do the same and it shocks you when you see it’s already 10 pm. “Alright to call it a night?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” You both tidy up, throwing away the packaging from your food and cleaning up the files you had lying around before both making your way to your cars and home.

You type about 5 different messages before settling on Hey, how’s San Diego going? Simple. Casual. You knew you were overthinking this all way too much but you couldn’t seem to stop. Slipping your phone into your pocket you situate yourself in your living room with your freshly poured glass of wine. You put on the tv but you’re only half watching as your eyes constantly flick to your phone to see if Jack’s responded. You’ve nearly finished the glass when she finally does.

It’s alright. Tough case but the hotel I’m at has the best room service so I’m making do. How’s DC?

Do they do pancakes? Room service pancakes are somehow always amazing. DC’s pretty much the same as always. It’s been weird not seeing you around the office though. You hesitate adding the last bit but click send before you can think it through too much. Your eyes widen in surprise when instead of a response your phone lights up with Jack’s caller ID. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey. Is this ok? It’s easier than texting.” You smile. You didn’t think it was possible to miss someone’s voice.

“Yeah, of course.” Your voice is too giddy. “So, pancakes?” 

“The pancakes are glorious, I had them this morning.” Jack laughs. Rustling sounds through the phone as Jack moves, settling back into her bed. You empty the last bit of your wine in one gulp before filling the glass again. “Were you at the office late?” 

“Gibbs let us go at 8 but Ellie and I were there till 10, got too invested in a case file.”  

“Sounds about right. Of course, you were.” Jack chuckles affectionately.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I heard that there’s an agent that’s been a joy to work with.” 

“Talking about me, huh?” Your cheeks heat up, was Jack flirting? When you don’t respond Jack laughs. “But yes, Agent Pierce. He’s lead agent on the case and not exactly happy that I was asked to assist. Huge Ego.” You can practically hear Jack’s eye roll. 

“Sounds delightful. If he’s not letting you help, you’ll just have to come home early.” You bite your lip knowing your voice is too hopeful. 

“Missing me already?” Despite her teasing tone, you can tell she’s actually curious about the answer, maybe even a little hopeful. 

“Of course. I told you, it’s weird not seeing you around the office.” You’ve had too much wine, there is no way sober you would have let that thought pass your lips. You should be pushing this conversation back to safety. Not talking about missing Jack! She’s quiet, just her breathing sounding through the phone. You swallow roughly, gripping the phone tighter in your hand.

Jack’s voice is quiet when she talks “I miss you too.” Your cheeks heat up, a smile you can’t control blooming over your face. Jack clears her throat. “He’s finally beginning to realise I’m just here to help and not to undermine him or make his life difficult.” Jack yawns loudly, trying, and failing, to muffle the sound and you laugh. 

“You should get some sleep.” 

Jack hums. “Probably, but I’m enjoying this.”

“Me too, but you’re only going to regret this when you’re tired in the morning, I don’t want to get the blame for grumpy Jack.” 

“Hey! I don’t get grumpy!”

“Sure, you believe that.” Your voice softens. “Seriously, go and get some sleep. I probably should too. It's nearly midnight here.” Even as you say it you know it sounds weak; you’d speak to her all night if you could. 

Jack sighs. “You’re probably right. We should do something-” Jack cuts off, a loud knock sounding from assumingly, her hotel room door. “Sorry, one sec.” Jack removes the phone from her ear. It rustles as she makes her way across the room. Your heart is fluttering in your chest. ‘We should do something’? Does that mean a date? 

Your thoughts cut off as you hear voices through the phone. “Seriously Sloane. It’s not even 8.30 and you’re in your pyjamas.” 

You laugh. Images of Jack in pyjamas floating through your mind. Maybe she’s wearing the ones she wore when she stayed over. Or shorts, you could see her sleeping in shorts, especially considering the hot San Diego weather. Maybe the expensive silk ones you could get, probably in blue or red. Cute and sexy, like every goddamn thing about the women. You groan, frustrated at yourself for letting your thoughts wander.

“Hey, sorry. It’s Izzy. She's demanding we go down to the bar for drinks.” Jack sighs. 

“Oh, Izzy’s in San Diego?” You swallow roughly. Jack hanging out with her ex-girlfriend, totally normal and not something that should bother you.

“Yeah, apparently she’s here to visit some old friends-”

“I am! I didn’t even know you were in San Diego until Lewis mentioned it yesterday.” 

“-And ‘coincidentally’ ran into me today when I was getting coffee.”

“Ok, that was planned, but I knew you’d ignore my calls if I suggested we meet up. You’ve been surprisingly hard to contact the last couple of months.” Bitterness seeps into Izzy’s tone. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Have a good night, Jack.” 

“And you. Get some sleep. Breakfast at the Diner on Monday before work?” The hope radiating through Jack’s voice brings a smile to your face. 

“Sounds great,” Jack says one last bye before ending the call. You sigh, draining the remainder of your glass before switching your tv off and heading to bed. 

You try to ignore your swirling thoughts. Was Jack flirting with you tonight? Or was that just hopeful thinking and the effects of the wine. Izzy and Jack were barely friends and Jack had mentioned before that they were long over. That their relationship wasn’t much of a relationship anyway. You were surprised that they hadn’t been seeing each other though. Groaning you pushing your thoughts away. It was no use agonising over it all. Jack would be home in a few days and then everything would be back to normal. And normal was good. 

[artificialqueens]

Overpowered Part 1 (Branjie)- athena2

A/N: It’s here! Thank you to everyone that read and gave feedback on Powerless, you really inspired me to keep this story going. Thank you for continuing on this journey with me! I really hope you enjoy this first chapter, and I would appreciate any comments or feedback you have!

“It’s good to be back, baby!” Vanjie roars, and Frost smiles in agreement. Her smiles come easier now. She doesn’t have to force them like she used to, when spreading a grin across her face was like trying to cut through stone.

The October-orange leaves blur as Vanjie speeds by in the black car she’s named Bertha, and Frost wishes she had about three more seat belts.

“First night back on patrol, let’s do this!” Vanjie continues. “That song should be playing. You know, the one that plays in the movies when people walk all bad-ass like?”

“You mean ‘Back in Black’?”

“That’s the one! That should follow us wherever we go.” Vanjie cackles out the window and Frost grins even as her leg bounces with nerves.

Vanjie puts a steady hand on her thigh. It calms her somewhat, but at this point she thinks she’d be calmer if that hand was on the wheel. “You’re gonna be fine, baby. Just follow my lead,” Vanjie promises.

She parks the car in an alley with a ladder that leads to the roof a Mexican restaurant. “So, we just kinda hang here for now,” Vanjie dangles her legs over the edge of the roof. “It’s nice up here, and Silk calls if she gets any hits on her satellite.”

The view is nice. The city vibrates with life, lights twinkling in the streets below, people humming in the distance, but they’re 30 feet up and there’s no way Frost is sticking her legs off the roof. She crosses them instead, dropping her hands into her lap.

It’s cool outside, and maybe it’s the soft breeze, caressing her gently, or the moon shining off Vanjie’s waves, making her face glow, but Frost doesn’t think she’s ever felt more whole, more in love with Vanjie and the world. Maybe even with herself.

“I used to look for you, you know,” she confesses, high on moonlight. “Once I finished my missions for the night, I’d walk around, hoping I’d find you. It’s like I could think a little clearer when you were there.”

She remembers those nights, when talking to Vanjie was the only thing that felt real in her hazy mind. The only thing reminding her she was still alive.

“Really?” Vanjie smiles at her, eyes kind and warm. “I used to do the same thing, I ain’t gonna lie. When Silk said she spotted you, I used to run, girl. At first I wanted to catch you. Then I kinda just wanted to see you. It was nice, you know? Having someone who understood, I guess.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” She leans in, a hand on Vanjie’s shoulder. She closes the gap between them, lips craving Vanjie’s–

“Bank robbery on 19th,” Silk crackles in their ear comms.

“Great timing, Silk,” Vanjie grumbles.

They race to the bank and Frost keeps her focus on Vanjie. I’m a good person. I deserve to be forgiven. Nina’s words swirl in her brain, but she struggles to make them stick as Frost reminds herself that Vanjie would have been driving to stop her just months ago.

Vanjie hops out and begins teasing the robber, and Frost stands against the car like a magnet is holding her there. She knows Vanjie doesn’t need her help, but she should be offering instead of standing around like an idiot. Vanjie punches him in the jaw and it’s like she’s punched Frost, her mind rattling. Vanjie should be punching me. I’m bad like him. She takes a breath. No, that wasn’t me.

Vanjie pulls handcuffs off her belt and attaches the bank robber to a pole before having Silk call the cops. She leads Frost into an alleyway.

“Brooke,” Vanjie says quietly, and Frost listens. “I know where your mind is going, but try not to let it, okay? Self-blame won’t get you anywhere. Believe me, I know.” She puts her hand on Frost’s cheek, fingers smoothing over her temple. Vanjie is probably the only other person who does know how it feels, and she listens.

She nods.

Vanjie grins. “Come on then. We got more assholes to stop.” —

It’s the day before Vanessa’s birthday and Brooke makes a solo trip to the animal shelter while Vanessa is at the base. It’s the first time she’s gone anywhere alone, really, and her neck is damp with sweat despite the cool air.

She tries to unclench her fists, to stop jumping at every noise. She knows everyone from the lab is gone, but last night she dreamt that they caught her and woke up screaming so loud her throat is still scratchy and every door slam and footstep is the General here to take her away.

Her ears fill with the barks and howls of the shelter and she relaxes. She knows just the dog she wants, a tiny brown and white puppy named Riley whose yips are almost too loud for such a small body to contain.

She keeps looking at the dog and grinning the whole way home, never in her life thinking she’d have someone to give a dog to.

Vanessa is going to love him.  —

Even though Vanessa’s birthday isn’t until tomorrow, Brooke just can’t wait.

The second Vanessa gets home, Brooke runs into their spare bedroom, where she’d hidden Riley. “Be good for your mommy,” she whispers, scooping the dog into her arms.

Vanessa’s jaw drops open, but all that comes out are sputtering gasps when Brooke puts the dog in her hands.

“Is it okay?” she asks frantically, chewing her lip. “I know how much you liked the dog you had as a kid and I thought you might want one now…”

“Oh, Brooke,” Vanessa breathes. “He’s perfect.” She kisses his nose and strokes his fur. “I love him.”

They spend the night sprawled on the living room carpet, introducing Riley to the cats and letting the animals crawl all over them.

“We got a regular Noah’s ark in here,” Vanessa laughs, nudging Henry’s paw out of the way to plant a kiss on Brooke’s cheek.  —

Vanessa wears a long white gown, ring sparkling on her finger. The sun is a halo behind her but her smile is even brighter, and the “I do” flies out of her mouth before the minister (Nina, for some strange reason) even finishes talking. Brooke leans down and kisses those warm lips–

Brooke opens her eyes. Vanessa’s sleeping, in her pajamas rather than a wedding dress, and the only sun strains to be seen. It’s just past 6, and she should sleep longer but knows she won’t be able to, her body buzzing and her mind wide-awake in anticipation of the party and what she wants to do after.

She pads into the kitchen, feeding the pets and starting on the cake for tonight. She’s slowly becoming more comfortable in the apartment, slowly losing her fear that someone will take her away from it. She doesn’t hesitate as she reaches for the flour and replaces the butter in the butter dish, which she would have never done without asking before. It feels like home, and Brooke allows herself to feel it.

The chocolate cake is in the oven, buttercream is chilling in the fridge, and she’s finishing up the birthday pancakes when Vanessa shuffles in, her pajama pants decorated with ghosts and bats.

Vanessa takes in the mountain of bowls, measuring cups, and spoons piled on the drying rack and her eyes widen in alarm. “You didn’t have another nightmare, did you? I should’ve heard-”

“No, it was a good dream this time.” She steers Vanessa to the table.

“Happy birthday, Ness,” she tests it out, burying her lips in the waves at the top of Vanessa’s head.

“Thank you, baby,” Vanessa tips her head back and cranes her neck up for a kiss.

“This is real maple syrup. I saw it in the store and I really wanted it. It feels like…like a memory? Like I know I’ve had it before?” she attempts to explain, passing the bottle to Vanessa.

Vanessa nods, taking in the colorful plate of fruit she’s laid out on the kitchen table. “You went all out on this, huh?” she asks, piling strawberries on her plate.

Brooke blushes. “Anything for you.”

They both have the day off and Vanessa helps Brooke with the cooking. She pulls out a battered recipe box that she holds with deep reverence, the cards written in neat, looping cursive, and Brooke knows without Vanessa telling her that it belonged to her mother.

They spend the day in the kitchen making all of Vanessa’s favorites, rice and beans, and enchiladas, and macaroni and cheese, and they move around each other with such grace it’s like a dance, with such ease it’s like breathing.

Like they were each an extension of the other’s body, and maybe even of their soul. —

A’Keria and Silk barge in promptly at 7, and Brooke is calm. She is calm through dinner as they regale her with stories from their early days fighting crime, including the night Vanjie got chased by a wild boar that escaped from the zoo.

She is calm as she brings the cake out to oohs and aahs, calm at the absolute butchering of “Happy Birthday”. She is calm as she plucks the candles out, wax soft and warm, as she slides the knife through the chocolate frosting–

A little blonde girl with green eyes beams at her gigantic chocolate cake, seven candles glowing in the thick frosting. A kind woman with similar eyes smiles at her, tells her to make a wish–

Her fingers remain stiff as the knife is pried out of her hand, a glass of water pushed into it seconds later. She lifts it to her mouth numbly, letting out a relieved sigh as her surroundings refocus and she sees Vanessa has brought her to the kitchen.

“My mom,” she explains hoarsely. “I think I saw my mom.”

“Oh, Brooke,” Vanessa soothes, rubbing her back. “Are you okay?”

“I think so. I-I just never saw her before, and she’s…well, you know…” she trails off, choking back a sob.

“But it was nice,” she continues. “I think I look like her a little.”

Vanessa smiles, sadness clouding her eyes. “I’m happy you got to see her. I just wish the flashbacks didn’t take so much out of you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I hate when they happen in front of everyone, they must think I’m-”

“Brooke, they know what an amazing person you are. This doesn’t change anything. And I better not hear any apologies from you on my birthday,” she warns, face stretching into a grin.

Brooke laughs and lets Vanessa lead her back to the dining room.

Silk and A’Keria look concerned, but there’s nothing unkind in their expressions. This doesn’t change what they think of me, she reminds herself.

“Vanessa’s been talking about this cake all week. She makes you sound like damn Martha Stewart. We gonna try it or what?” A’Keria demands, and Brooke cuts the cake.  —

Vanessa marches into the living room with a slim box under her arm and the grin of a tiger stalking prey on her face.

“Don’t think I forgot, hoe,” Vanjie thrusts the Monopoly box at Silk.

“Oh, shit,” A’Keria mutters. “Brooke, you got more wine? Hell, I’ll take the whole bottle.”

“Is this a thing?” Brooke asks, giving A’Keria the wine while Silk and Vanessa set up the board and pick pieces like military generals planning a battle.

“This is kind of our birthday tradition. Oh, my child. You have no idea what you’re about to witness. If you got anything valuable in this living room, you might want to put it away.”

Brooke’s not sure if A’Keria is serious, but she grabs the vase that was Vanessa’s mother’s and stashes it in their bedroom just in case. She settles on the rug as A’Keria drains another glass.

The next two hours are a war like Brooke has never seen. She’s pretty sure actual war is tamer than this. The board is held together with duct tape and covered in suspicious red stains; some of the cards are singed around the edges and the shoe piece has been replaced with a hot pink Barbie heel. Brooke’s been enlisted to hand out money, as the most trustworthy of the group, and has two paper cuts on her fingers from Silk snatching it out of her hands. A’Keria sports a dime-sized bruise on her arm after Vanessa pelted her with dice. Silk uses her wad of cash as a fan and a weapon when she owes someone money. A’Keria hides her money beneath her ass (Vanessa yells that she can fit the entire Federal Reserve under there). Brooke feebly sticks hers in her back pocket and Vanessa stuffs her shares down her shirt, ruthlessly collecting payments from the others. Brooke wonders if they’ll be here until Christmas when Silk and Vanessa both launch the board a little after midnight, propelling money and game pieces across the apartment and prompting a 10-minute argument over who actually flipped it first. A’Keria is blissfully drunk (she’s already spilled some on the board, another battle scar) and helps Brooke pick up the game pieces, some of which have scattered all the way to the bathroom.

Vanessa is still insisting Silk cheated when she heads into the bedroom. She pulls off her sweater and tosses it to the floor, and Brooke knows now is the time.

Brooke stands nervously in the doorway. She unbuttons her shirt with shaky fingers, reminds herself that Vanessa has seen her scars before and doesn’t care, doesn’t think any less of her for them. Nina’s told her several times that the scars from the bad things the lab did don’t make her bad, don’t make her any less deserving of love. But the fear still remains that Vanessa won’t want her.

“Um, there’s one more thing I want to give you.”

Vanessa’s eyes go wide as she realizes.

“Brooke, you’re sure? We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, or because you think you have to.”

“I’m sure.”

She’s never been more sure of anything.  —

Brooke collapses onto the pillow breathlessly, Vanessa doing the same.

“Was it okay? I don’t know if I’ve ever…I don’t remember, anyway-”

“Relax, Mary! Brooke, it was amazing. It was everything. You’re everything.” She presses a kiss to Brooke’s cheek before wrapping her in a warm, sleepy embrace.  —

“Ow! What the hell?”

“What is it?”

“I stepped on a fucking Monopoly racecar!”

“I knew we were missing a piece!” —

There’s only days until the new recruits arrive and Brooke’s whole body is tense, like she’s expecting some blow to come. It’s that second when your chair tips too far back, and you’re desperately clawing at the air, trying to regain your balance before you fall backwards.

Only she’s stuck there.

In three days she brings cookies, brownies, and donuts for everyone to eat at the base because she just can’t sleep, not even when Vanessa holds her. What little sleep she does get is plagued with nightmares of being back at the lab, needles piercing her arm and the General laughing in her face.

“Why do you think you’ve been anxious, Brooke?” Nina’s voice is kind across the desk.

She looks down at her lap, like a kid called on in class when they haven’t been paying attention.

“There’s no right or wrong answer,” Nina says gently, like she’s read Brooke’s mind.

“P-probably…probably because the new recruits are coming Wednesday?”

“Why do you think you’re anxious about that?”

Now that she’s admitted the fear out loud, the floodgates are open and the worries come rushing out. “Because I don’t know them! How do I know I can trust them? What if they find out about me and think I’m bad? What if they don’t like me, or they think I’m crazy or weak or something? And then they’ll tell Silk, and she’ll realize how bad I am too.”

She chews on her nails and Nina passes her the squeeze ball she keeps on her desk for when Brooke gets fidgety.

“You’re none of those things, Brooke, and I’m sure these new recruits will see that. I do think your fears are valid, but keep in mind that Silk wouldn’t have picked anyone she didn’t think was trustworthy.”

Brooke nods, the ball compressing under her grip. It makes sense when Nina puts it that way.

“They also don’t know anything about your past. Your information is your information. They won’t know anything unless you want them to, and it’s fine if you don’t want them to, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, now that you’ve gotten the worries out of the way, I want you to imagine this going well. What are some good things that could happen?”

Nina’s asked her to do this before. It’s supposed to help her stop catastrophizing and focus on good outcomes. “Um, they might like me?”

“Good! What else?”

“Maybe I’ll like them?” Her voice grows steadier. “And maybe we’ll be friends, and if I did decide to tell them about me, they wouldn’t care.”

“That’s great, Brooke! I want you to think of those when you start to worry, okay?”

Brooke nods. Maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad.  —

Nina’s advice gets her through the next day, but Wednesday comes and Vanessa grips Brooke’s sweaty hand in her own as A’Keria leads them to the conference room to meet the new girls.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Vanessa assures her as they walk in.

“This is Scarlet and Yvie,” A’Keria gestures to the two women talking to Silk in the corner. There’s a certain intimacy between them, the same intimacy Brooke sees between her and Vanessa.

Scarlet’s bright red hair glimmers like copper. She seems confident and unbothered, and it’s a little unnerving to Brooke, the way she stands there like she owns the place. But her smile is wide and warm, and her eyes are kind as she shakes Brooke’s hand.

Yvie is nearly as tall as Brooke, with long, lanky limbs that Brooke thinks would contort like a Slinky. “You can just call me Yvie, you don’t have to use the code name,” she says quickly. “Silk told me I had to have one, but I don’t really give a shit about the secret identity. Then you got this one here-” she throws an arm around Scarlet fondly “-who puts her own damn name in the superhero name.”

“So what are you hoes’ powers?” Vanessa demands.

“I scream like a bitch,” Scarlet deadpans before bursting into laughter. “No, seriously, my voice has sonic vibrations that knock people out.”

“I see shit,” Yvie adds. “I’m like, lowkey psychic, I guess? I see visions of stuff that happens, and I try to save people who are in trouble. But it’s not always super-specific or anything.”

“And we know all about you two!” Yvie continues and Brooke’s heart beats like a drum in her ears. They know.

“Fire and ice, how fucking metal is that?” She turns to Vanessa. “Does your head catch on fire like Hades in Hercules? Also, y’all should totally give me your birth information so I can do your astrological charts,” she crows excitedly.

Brooke breathes a sigh of relief. Then it hits her that the only information she has on herself and her birth is in an untouched folder stuffed in her dresser, because as much as she wants to know she just can’t bring herself to open it.

“Don’t mind this one. She loves to talk.” Scarlet rolls her eyes, but the love in them is clear.

“So, I think we’ll start the meeting now-” Silk starts.

“Anyone else hot in here?” Vanessa interrupts, gathering her hair into a ponytail.

“You’re always hot, girl,” A’Keria says.

“Damn right I am,” Vanessa shoots back, and Brooke snorts, feels some tension crest out of her shoulders. Vanessa slips an arm around her waist and just the weight of it is an anchor.

“Your hair,” Yvie breathes, leaning in and getting a good look at Vanessa’s face, like she’s suddenly seeing her for the first time. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“Um, there’s no easy way to say this, but I had a vision last night of this girl, and you’re her. And in the vision, you, well…”

“Spit it out, Mary.”

“You were dead.”

[alleiradayne]

The Dance

Summary: Sam has a visitor in his dreams Square Filled: Dream Visitations Warnings/Tags: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Hopeful Ending Characters/Pairings: Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy (Saileen), Gabriel, Chuck (mentioned) Word Count: 1,302 A/N:  For @heavenandhellbingo​. Beta’d by @atc74​​. Eileen. Deserved. Better. Song: The Dance by Garth Brooks

Blindingly bright light seeped through his eyelids as Sam squinted and stirred in his bed. He had barely fallen asleep, hours of restless tossing and turning robbing him of slumber. Regret plagued him, filled his mind with ceaseless visions of her body, mangled and misshapen. She had been so alone, and when she had needed them most, they had failed her.

He had failed her.

The light continued to pester him, growing brighter until Sam opened his eyes. Opaque, diffused white surrounded him, endless, as though he drifted in a cloud. He tossed the sticking sheets from his sweating body and swung his feet to the floor, the cold marble of his room in the Bunker still there. But what of the rest of his room? Had he gone blind?

A buffeting of wings ruffled his hair before he heard his voice. “You're dreaming, Sam.”

Over his shoulder he saw Gabriel stood beside his bed, wings fading as they folded. “Why am I dreaming?”

“Uh, well, humans dream to help them process and catalog what they…” Gabriel paused when he saw Sam's crooked brow. “You meant this,” he said as he gestured to their surroundings. “I couldn't really think of a place for you two to meet. Not like you had a favorite restaurant or anything normal people do.”

Sam glared at him. “What are you talking about? How are you even doing—you know what, I don't even want to know, can I just… go back to sleep?”

Gabriel rounded the bed to sit beside him. “I think you might want to stay lucid a bit longer. There's someone here that wants to talk to you.”

When Gabriel turned with his crooked smile, Sam followed his gaze and gasped.

“Hey, Sam.”

Whole. Brilliantly beautiful. And happy. Eileen stood three feet from him, so full of life, and yet Sam froze. Gabriel looked between them a moment, but when neither of them moved, he stood and spoke. “I'll uh,” he paused as he motioned to nowhere in particular, “leave you kids alone.”

Sam righted his hair in the wake of Gabriel's wings, but his wide eyes never left Eileen. She waited a breath longer before asking, “Sam? Are you alright?”

He should have done it ages ago. He should have taken the chance when she was alive. He leaped from his bed and crossed the space between them in a single step. He had to make up for lost time, and given such a rare chance, he would not squander it. With both hands, he cradled her head, and Eileen met him half way, chin tilted and lips ready. Her arms flung around his back as she clung to him, and when his lips found hers, Sam wept.

He poured every ounce of his guilt and regret into that kiss, desperate in his need for forgiveness. Sobs heaved his shoulders as he enveloped Eileen in his arms and held her flush to his chest. How had it come down to nothing but a dream? Real, she felt so real in his arms, on his lips. He had to do something, something to make things right. Eileen deserved nothing that had happened to her, least of all her death.

That had been his fault.

“Sam,” Eileen started, her lips against his, “stop blaming yourself.”

He held her at arm’s length, lost in the depths of her dark brown eyes. With a sniffle, he wiped away his tears as he spoke. “How? If you had never met me, you’d still be alive.”

Tender fingers carded through his hair as Eileen smiled. “That banshee might have finished the job if you and Dean hadn’t showed up.”

Funny, even in death. “That’s not true. You had that hunt completely covered,” he said as he curled a stray lock of her golden-brown hair behind her ear. “Dean just likes playing the hero.”

She snorted at that. “And you don't?”

Oh, how he missed her wit. “Maybe. Still, you didn’t need one,” he stated with a crooked smirk.

“No, but I didn’t mind having two,” she teased. “Besides, it was worth it. I wouldn't trade having met you.”

He wanted to laugh. But insidious thoughts stripped him of any mirth he might have felt. “I wish I'd have gotten your letter sooner. You could have stayed with us. In the Bunker. I could have—”

“Please,” Eileen interrupted. “Don’t feel sorry for me. You couldn’t have known what the Brits were up to.

“But I should have,” he insisted as he parted from her. Frustration gripped him like a vice as Sam paced, his mind muddied by turbulent thoughts. When he found his bed remained solid amidst the cloudy white that surrounded them, he sat upon it and prayed for clarity. “I should have known they would go after everyone we cared about. They took my mom, for fucks sake. Of course they’d come after you.”

Eileen followed him to his bed and sat beside him. “I meant that much to you?”

It pained him so to see the doubt in her eyes. “You did. You still do,” he replied as he took her hand, so small in his. What he wouldn’t give, what he wouldn’t do to see her alive again. The thought terrified him.

“I don’t have much longer,” she said. “Gabriel might be the most powerful archangel left, but even his ability to manipulate time and space is limited.”

Grief weighed so heavy on his heart, he felt it might burst. He had to say goodbye. Again. He opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat, unable to give them voice. He knew what would happen next. He would fall asleep, then awaken to remember only a brief glimpse of their final moments together. No matter how deep he delved, he couldn’t find the courage to say it.

Because deep down, he knew the truth. He had no desire to ever say goodbye to Eileen.

“It’s okay, Sam,” she sighed. Her fingers twitched as she spoke. “Rest. You’ll find a way tomorrow.”

Blurred by the fresh tears in his eyes, Eileen’s sad smile wavered, and Sam drifted, lost in a roiling sea of distress. Down he wandered, buoyed by the current and rocked gently to sleep as he lay back in his bed. Eileen never left his side, her hand still in his as he succumbed to darkness once more.

“Goodbye, Sam,” he heard. “I’ll see you again soon.”

In the intervening hours, Sam slept, soundless and undisturbed. No other visions came to him, not even his typical nightmares. Rest he had not experienced in years revitalized him so that when he awoke at six o'clock the following morning, he headed straight for the Library.

A pot of coffee, at least twenty books, and an hour of cross-referencing later, Sam stumbled upon the information for which he searched. But it had not been in any of the books or files or marginal notes. The answer to his nagging question had lain buried in a newly minted memory.

I’ll see you again soon.

That moment resurfaced as his mind wandered amidst the books. Looped, it repeated endlessly as he focused on one, tiny detail he had missed the night before.

Her fingers twitched as she spoke. “Rest. You'll find a way tomorrow.”

Not a way to say goodbye. A way to never say goodbye. Her fingers had moved so quick, it was no wonder he had missed them in the moment.

Hellhound. Ketch. Loophole.

Brilliant as ever, Eileen had figured it out on her own. She only needed him to execute her plan.

Sam raised a brow as he scanned the Library, and, once positive that he was very much alone, he spoke.

“Hey, uh, Chuck? It’s Sam. I’ve got a question for you…”

Tags: @atc74 @hannahindie @bevans87@meganwinchester1999@plaided-ani-on-hiatus@oneshoeshort@jonogueira@andkatiethings@elfinmox@wonderfulworldofwinchester@princessofthefandomrealm@just-another-busyfangirl@jmekitchens@81mysteriouslyme@dolphincliffs @seenashwrite@meowmeow-motherfucker

Reblogs and feedback are awesome. If you want in on the tags, send me an ask or a DM!

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN HEAVEN AND HELL BINGO MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

[firebirdsdaughter]

Random Writing… Tid… Bit?…

… Okay, I don’t even know what this is. It just… Popped out! DX

… No wait. That’s… A really weird image.

So! Why don’t I subject everyone to this, instead?

Well, this is whacky.

Random scene from a random timeline that will never happen in show.

Literally features a dialogue summary of the last Tidbit I just wrote.

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There was a long silence.

“Okay…” Aruto said, finally, leaning forward on his knees, clasping his hands together. The woman sitting across from him gave him a suspicious look, but didn’t interrupt, so he continued. “… Can you give them back?”

She blinked at him. “You’re asking if I can give Horobi back his emotions?”

There was an incredulous tone to her voice, but he nodded anyway, even though he saw Isamu rolling his eyes out of the corner of his vision, and Yua shaking her head. “Yes.”

The woman gaped at him for a moment, until she realised he was completely serious, throwing up her hands. “No! They were never a part of his original programming! They’re not some code I can stick back in.”

At that, Isamu snapped out of his usual exasperation with Aruto to shift forward in interest. “What do you mean?”

The woman shifted uncomfortably, grinding her teeth together. Eventually, Yua came closer well, leaning on the back of the sofa. “You’ve got immunity now, remember? And that man doesn’t ever need to know you were here.”

The woman shot her a small glare, but sighed. “Horobi was intentionally designed to hate humans.” She explained, haltingly. “Where other HumaGears are programmed to support and assist…” She trailed into another deep sigh. “He didn’t choose the name Horobi himself. The boss gave it to him, so that he could ‘never forget what he was.’ People who interacted with him were instructed to keep their distance, make sure he kept a negative view of humanity, and to make sure that he never thought of himself as anything more than that.” She rubbed her hands together anxiously. “He wasn’t just a HumaGear. The boss wanted him to be a…”

There was a sharp thud as Isamu’s fist connected with the wall. “… A weapon.” He growled. “They wanted him to be a weapon. So they mistreated him to build resentment.” He punched the wall with his other hand, too, head dropping into his forearms. “Damn ZAIA…!” There was a sour edge in his voice that made Aruto strongly suspect he was thinking about the way Thouser had manipulated him, too.

Looking even more unsure of herself, the woman nodded. “Exactly. Horobi is, essentially, a carefully crafted WMD.” She looked down at her fidgeting hands. “I don’t know what exactly they did to him. I was just programming. But it… It sounded bad.”

Isamu was glaring daggers at her now, and Aruto wasn’t sure if he should be worried Vulcan would take a swing at the the woman, or glad that he was this angry on behalf of a HumaGear’s mistreatment.

Yua on the other hand, like always, was much harder to read. “… I see.” She murmured softly. “Thouser creates Horobi, and therefore MetsubouJinrai.net, in order to create an massive incident that he’s secretly in control of…”

Aruto blinked at her. “Eh?”

She gave an irritated sigh, but propped her hands on her hips and clarified, “Thouser deliberately created the threat so that he could be the one to step in and stop it—effectively disgrace Hiden for not being able to deal with it, and make himself and his company the hero.” Her mouth twisted. “All that damage. And I nearly…”

“We nearly helped him do it.” Isamu grunted from her left, not breaking his glare at the former ZAIA programmer. “Don’t bump me off the guilty list.” She gave him a look that was slightly annoyed—but also partially grateful.

“But something went wrong. His creation reached singularity despite his programming.” Izu brought them all back to the point, her level gaze never having left the woman. The HumaGear secretary tilted her head questioningly. “You stated that ZAIA created Horobi. How was Jin created?”

The woman hesitated for a long time, taking several deep breaths before answering. “… That’s just it. We… We don’t know how it happened. Something… Somehow, despite everything, Horobi… Something changed. One of the theories that came up was that he saw the humans interacting around him, and realised he was…” She choked on the word. “… Realised he was lonely.” Another nervous swallow. “Be we don’t know for sure. It was amazing how he managed to keep it from us—he worked nights, figured out how to hack the cameras and give them a feedback loop. We found a whole damn library of clips he’d been giving them to hide it.” She raised her hands to rub her face briefly. “Then, after he finished, he had Jin hide somewhere in his rooms during the day, when the staff came by.”

“… How did you find him?” Yua asked, very quietly.

The woman pursed her lips in a frown. “… He attacked a researcher. It was on the routine ‘conditioning’ visits, and…”

“He attacked the person hurting his family.” Aruto finished for her sombrely.

The woman didn’t nod, but she didn’t disagree, either. “I was…” She shook her head as she searched for words. “… Amazed. It was the first time a HumaGear creating another HumaGear had ever been heard of. And Jin was so advanced, in a way. He looked like an adult, but acted like a child, more personality than any other…” She trailed off again, her expression darkening. “But the boss was furious. Wanted him destroyed. Horobi went nuts, started shouting not to hurt him, called him his son.” Her hands rubbed together even faster, and she started picking at her nails. “Boss… Said he had an idea. Sent me out with Jin and ordered me to wipe his memory.”

“And you did?” Izu asked, with an edge to her tone that was unidentifiable.

“It’s not like I wanted to!” The woman’s voice broke. She looked frantically at Yua. “You know what he’s like!”

Yua, however, shook her head. “No. I left Thouser when he tried to make me cross the line.”

Tears pricked at the woman’s eyes—and Aruto did feel a little sorry for her, Thouser didn’t give the impression of someone who would be lenient on disobedience, but this had had had massive consequences. “What happened?” He asked firmly, trying to sound like his grandfather and bring the conversation back.

The woman’s jaw clenched, and she huddled into herself, but she continued. “… Daybreak happened.” She murmured. “The ForceRisers hijack a HumaGear’s main programming. Results can vary—they can reset it, alter it, magnify a particular program, or completely override to with something like a single command.” Her fists were clenching so tightly her nails were leaving marks. “He used it to drive Horobi berserk. Almost the whole facility was destroyed.” She sighed again, a slightly thoughtful one. “He came for Jin. I didn’t expect that. Even though his mind was overridden, and he was operating on his original core directive, he still came. I only survived because I had the sense to get out of his way.” She looked around at them. “Emotions were never part of his original design. He somehow… Taught them to himself. Through Jin. When the boss put the ForceRiser on him, it purged everything it deemed ‘unnecessary.’ He literally cannot feel.” She shook her head. “I can’t just put them back in him. He’d have to learn them all over again.”

Yua folded her arms. “And his relationship with Jin has already suffered for it, so that’s probably not…”

“That’s what you think.” Isamu muttered, straightening up. Turning on his heel like a soldier, he started toward the door.

Yua turned after him. “Where are you going?”

He came to a half a few steps from the exit. “It’s just the emotions he lost, right?” He asked the woman with clearly faux cheer, deliberately ignoring Yua’s question. “He still remembers that he made Jin, just not why, or how it felt?” Looking utterly bewildered, the woman nodded. “So.” Isamu clicked his fingers. “We just force him to remember.”

“Remember?” Aruto asked, rising himself, completely not following Vulcan’s logic. “How?”

Isamu sighed thoughtfully, then glanced at Yua. “Yaiba, why did you ditch Thouser?”

She hesitated. “… Because he wanted me to frame you for murder and then kill you.”

He pointed at her like she’d just answered the winning lottery question. “Exactly. Life or death decisions.” He turned and started toward the door again.

“So… What?” Yua demanded, starting after him. “What makes you think you’re going to be able to do this, that you’re the person for the job?”

Isamu stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “… Because,” He told her levelly, without turning around. “… Feels like I owe it to him. One of Thouser’s weapons to another.” Looking over his shoulder, he gave them all a tired, sad smile. “Like we’re the only ones who can almost understand each other, you know?” Then, with a nod, he vanished out the door.

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As you can see, I do like me the idea of Isamu being deliberately manipulated by Thouser/Yua’s mystery boss in the name of… Well, here, essentially using him as a weapon. Taking his hatred and fear of HumaGears and stoking it to help raise the stakes of the incident or something, or as a method to clear up evidence, or as canon fodder, whatever. And Isamu is pissed to learn of him doing something similar to Horobi.

Of course, none of this is gonna be exactly canon. There is a chance for the ‘Isamu (and maybe Horobi? Please?) being manipulated’ somehow, but it would not be exactly this, not at all.

Also this is way later in the series when both Wolf Dad and Cheetah Mom are on Grasshopper Son’s side. Also the thing that I wrote Yua leaving Thouser’s employ for… Feels possible. Like, for all she and Isamu fight and he drives her crazy, I don’t get the impression she’d be willing to kill him, and might even be disgusted by a plan to frame him for something as bad as murder. So, it seemed plausible.