#they probably have a dead bird that got stuck in there somehow but they don’t actually know where it is so they just pretend they don’t care

[arolesbianism]

Opens my palm

[astroyongie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*: Messages From Dead Love Ones ⋆.ೃ࿔*:

NOTE: Hey guys ! I am finally weekend and have the time and the right energy to do this reading. However I need to make disclaimers so please read thoroughly before engaging with the reading

This is a reading for people who have lost loved ones. I have tried to channel with energies, so please keep in mind that maybe you might not feel attracted to any pile or if you do and the message doesn't make sense then it wasn't meant for you

The readings contain the appearance or who the person was and the message they have.

BE AWARE! some of the readings mention the way of death and thus there are TWs.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Into the reading ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Close your eyes and breath. Let go of everything. once you feel ready look to the piles and chose the one that is calling you.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑ Pile 1: Amethyst .𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑

Appearance/ Who they are: 

I channeled 3 persons for this pile

The first one is someone who passed from disease. It happened fast, without notice (the disease) and the family had to prepare themselves for it. This person foresight their death, they knew the moment they were diagnosed that it would be their end and deep down they have accepted it. I feel like this person could be older, but honestly whatever resonates with you. I also have water sign energy either in sun or rising, but this could be trivial to only some of you. 

The second person was someone very clever, someone who had high studies, that were well educated and from a good family. I can’t really know what they have passed from, as they only gave me their identity which was very important to them. There’s Aquarius energy, however again, this is trivial only to those who resonate. 

The third person is someone who died unexpectedly. Probably an accident (could be a car, at work, suicide as well or any type of accident really that took their life. They haven’t given me much info about who they are since they were pretty much in bad shape when they died. 

Message: 

Your person wants you to move on, you to make peace with yourself about their death. They don’t want you to keep sorrowing for something that was inevitable and written in the stars. They feel very bad that you are putting so much energy into things that are no need for. Move on, that’s what they want. 

They miss you so much but they are also already in light. They aren’t stuck between the veil and they have already moved on with their energy for the beyond so that’s one of the reasons they don’t want you to keep worrying about what they are, how they are. They are okay, they are with loved ones and in peace. 

The little bird is significant because this person tries often to reach to you through a bird shape. Whenever they want you to feel reassured they appear next to you In such form, so be attentive to your surroundings. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑ Pile 2:  Eye of Tiger .𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑

Appearance/ Who they are: 

I channeled 4 persons for this pile

This person is someone who died in a foreign country. This could be an immigrant person or perhaps someone who went on vacation and met their ending or even a soldier. I feel that for one person here this could be someone who died on an airplane. I got here fire energy as well.

This person here is somehow heartbroken, this could be someone who was an ex to you (either romantic or friend or even someone of the family that you didn’t speak to). But one thing is sure, they loved you much. 

Interesting, this energy is filled with financial value but they are also someone close to family. For many this is someone from your family, perhaps a grandparent, uncle or even a parent (most were financially well). They were someone who taught you so much and they have died before they could give you everything they had 

The last person I channeled was also someone from your family, but contrary to the other person, this was probably someone masculine, with a lot of authoritative energy. They had also a lot of money but they didn’t use it for the good. They were for you, someone egoistic that only cared for themselves. 

Message: 

The message is simple and even if you don’t want to hear it or believe it, they want you to know that they are proud of you, they are proud of what you have achieved and proud of everyone in your family (so if you have anyone in your family that is still mourning them, please tell them, that they are proud of everyone). They listen to your prayers, to your thoughts and they wish they would have had more time on earth by your side

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑ Pile 3: Black Obsidian .𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑

Appearance/ Who they are: 

I channeled 3 persons for this pile

They were someone sick for quite a while and they had to go through so many transitions that they have left their identity behind (I sense cancer here for some). They have suffered a great deal, they had so many memories and emotional baggage with them and even at their end they weren’t able to fix everything before leaving. 

Okay, this is interesting, here we are speaking of someone who died while having dementia (could be any type of dementia syndrome, to be honest, from Alzheimer's to Body of Lewis, to mix dementia). They were just there, roaming aimlessly in life while their mind was already disconnected and navigating into other worlds. They passed without pain, or at least they don’t remember having pain 

The last person I channeled was someone who had eye problems, some could be blind or have big issues with their sight. They also suffered from dementia and mental confusion so it’s interesting that most of the people with this condition came to me through the Black Obsidian. 

Message: 

They want you to know that they are okay. They have suffered so much while on Earth and how they have found peace and they just want you to know that they are okay. They enjoy the fact that you guys still think of them every now and then, but they want to make sure that even if they will always be by your side that you know that they are okay!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑ Pile 4:  Aventurine .𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑

Appearance/ Who they are: 

I channeled 4 persons for this pile

Here we have a woman, a strong one, someone with wit, independent and unbiased by everyone and everything. This was a very important figure in your life, maybe a mother, an auntie or your grandma. They are quite funny yet very stern in their energy 

The second person is probably someone who has passed on a car accident or at least on anything that involves automobiles in general. They didn’t see it coming, it just happened and they died shortly after if not in the same moment. 

A loved one here, for many, this could be a spouse, someone you have loved romantically or it could also be a sibling you were ever close with. In any case you love this person and this person loved you (and still does). 

The last person I channeled for this pile was someone who suffered from terminal illness and death was just there awaiting for them in the corner. They didn’t fight much their illness, they knew they had to die and they wished to do it with dignity. 

Message: 

They want you to talk to them, to tell them about your day and your life. They have left the world too soon and are kinda of sad not to be able to live and experience things so they want you to sometimes talk to them about your days so they can cherish and feed on that energy 

Most of these energies come to you in the form or course of warmness. They try to connect with you through warmth, so for example, if you suddenly feel a warmth touch or have burning ears, that might be them 

These people have also tried to talk to you through dreams, and while some of you might dream of them others still haven’t found the right moment to do so. Invite them in and also tell yourself that they are there to protect you against the terrors of the night. They try to send signals to you through dreams 

And finally, they want you to be positive about life. They know things aren’t easy and life sucks, but so does death. They haven’t been able to experience all the pain and all the love, and they wish you to live to the fullest and to be happy 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑ Pile 5:  Aquamarine .𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑

Appearance/ Who they are: 

I channeled 2 persons for this pile

We have here a woman who passed away, someone who lived with many issues inside the house. For someone, this could be a woman who died at their husband's hands or they would be someone who during their life had multiple issues with their husband. I don’t know how they have died, but their death feels heavy and sad 

The other person channeled is probably a friend of yours, someone you have known in school, university and for someone even at work. But it was someone who liked you a lot and you both had an amazing connection before they died. 

Message: 

The message is pretty clear and many people around them are still mourning their passing. If you aren’t mourning them anymore, they are. And if you are still mourning them, well, they are mourning themselves as well, because they think their death wasn’t fair at all. But it was necessary for them to move on. They are with you through these periods and they want you to know that they listen and share your pain. This is an energy that still suffers and will need some time before traversing the veil

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑ Pile 6:  Carnalian .𖥔 ݁ ˖🔮₊ ⊹๋࣭ ⭑

 Appearance/ Who they are: 

I channeled 3 persons for this pile

The first one is a loved one, again this is a very close family so a parent or a sibling or anyone you consider family but it can also be a boyfriend/girlfriend, spouse or someone you loved very very much with such a strong and deep connection. 

The second one is someone who has died from mental illness (so suicide or overdose is probably the main event of their death). They have suffered so much during their time on the earth and gosh the energy is just so heavy that it makes my head go fuzzy 

The last person channeled was someone close to you, that had much success in their life but they never had the opportunity to actually live through their success because they have died way too young 

Message: 

They are scared that you will forget about them, that you hate them for the fact that they left you. They want you to know they are sorry but also that they are still here for you and that you can still talk and count on them. They are just so sad and so frightened that their memory will fade

Communciation is really the key, I feel like these energies really want to connumicate with the persons they left behind because of guilt they have in their heart. It’s so heavy that I cannot read it properly (it’s also many people). But basically, they want to reach out 

[moncey-imagines]

Disneyland Trip Headcanons | Sans x GN!Reader

IT TOOK A REALLY LONG TIME BUT HERE IT IS LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND BINARYLESS BUDDIES!!! PART TWO!!! this time papyrus is in it teehee

!!THIS HAS NOT BEEN PROOF-READ OR EDITED!!

no warnings here hehe, this is part two of this fic.

* Really? I mean, yeah! Of course papyrus can come!

* YIPPEE! I CANNOT WAIT TO DISCOVER THE WONDERS OF DISNEYLAND!

* Ah- Were you standing there the whole time?

* YES! JUST IN CASE YOU SAID YES TO ME TAGGING ALONG!

* Why?

* i told him to.

* But why?

* TO KNOW WHEN TO START PACKING!

After Papyrus’ excited and frantic observations and questions the whole trip there, you were excited to have your skeleton boyfriend and his brother experience the park.

* WOWIE! WHAT IS THAT?

* Sleeping Beauty castle?

* LIKE THE MOVIE SLEEPING BEAUTY? CAN WE BE PUT UNDER A SLEEPING CURSE TOO? JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIE?

* Um…no, that would be dangerous to guests I think…

* bummer.

* SANS, YOU DON’T EVEN NEED A SLEEPING CURSE! YOU FALL ASLEEP EVERYWHERE!

* what was that, bro? sorry, i took a quick nap.

The questions from Papyrus, as silly some of them could be, really tested your knowledge in a really fun way.

* WHAT IS HIS NAME? WHAT IS HE DOING? WHY IS HE LOOKING AT US THAT WAY?

* That’s the Hatbox Ghost, he’s just standing there but there is a theory and a book supporting evidence that says that he’s scaring you out the window, where you fall to your death in the graveyard, and that’s why all the ghosts after are dancing and celebrating.

* WHY ME?

* Well, it’s nothing personal against specific guests, he just kind of…wants another ghost in the house, I guess?

* this is probably a personal attack against my bro. we gotta destroy him.

* NO, BROTHER! AS OFFENSIVE AS PERSONALLY CHOOSING ME WOULD BE, WE CANNOT DESTROY HIM! WE WOULD BE KICKED OUT OF THE PARK!

* Papyrus is right, we could even be arrested…

* shame. guys already dead, and we would get arrested for killin’ him again? Society.

* SOCIETY INDEED, BROTHER…

* Society…

Despite his questions being fun, Papyrus easily wore you out. Thankfully, he, somehow, had a very weak bladder, leaving you and Sans alone waiting for him often. It was a nice change of pace, even for just a moment.

* Here’s our snacks…

* what’d ya get?

* Well, I got beignets and mint juleps, enough for all three of us.

* mmm, those smell good…

* They’re the same things Tiana made in the beginning of Princess and the Frog! Due to both the beignets and the proximity to Critter Country, they turned this place into Tiana’s restaurant from the movie.

* oh, yeah. the one at the end that looked like a big boat, right?

* Yeah…have you been watching Disney movies?

* yeah, paps really wanted to marathon them. I also watched a few extra just to keep up with your facts.

* Aw…Sans, that’s so sweet…

* it’s no skin off my nose.

* Hehehe…bonehead…

During particularly long lines, Sans chose to ride your back. He’s not very heavy at all, really just the weight of clothes and bones, so he wasn’t much of a hassle to hold.

* REALLY, SANS? POOR [Y/N] IS STUCK CARRYING YOU BECAUSE 15 MINUTES IS TOO LONG TO STAND FOR YOU?

* It’s okay, Papyrus, he’s really light…and it’s nice to be so close to him…

* OH! IT’S A ROMANTIC MOMENT! BEAUTIFUL! I WILL TURN AROUND AND LEAVE YOU LOVE BIRDS TO YOUR ROMANCE!

* romantic, huh? consider me a certified heart throb then.

* Already considered. You make my knees weak…

* you send shivers up my spine.

* You rush my blood to my cheeks…

After a while, you heard Papyrus crying, muttering about how beautiful your love was. You also realized he was handed a lollipop by some random kid and had begun eating it.

* Papyrus, where did you get that?

* A GENEROUS HUMAN GIFTED IT TO ME!

* Huh?

* THAT ONE!

* That…child?

* YES! HE SAID HE LIKED MY OUTFIT AND GAVE ME HIS LOLLIPOP! I COULD NOT SEND THE POOR BOY AWAY WITHOUT A GIFT OF MY OWN, SO I GAVE HIM OUR BEIGNETS!

* aw, i wanted to eat those later.

* It’s okay, I have more.

* where?

* Secret…

* secret…

* SECRET!

* i think he’s passed out. Shame he didn’t get to see the fireworks.

* It’s okay, we’ll come back sometime.

* today was really nice.

* It was…

* oh, here, i bought this for you.

* Wow…is this…

* yeah, you said it was your favorite ride…i saw the plush and thought you should add it to your collection.

* When..?

* when we were walking, i saw it…i snuck away at some point to shortcut over and get it for you.

* Aw…thank you, Sans…I love you so much…

* i love you too.

HEHEHEH THIS TOOK FOREVER IM SO SORRY HOPE EVERYONE LIKES IT!!

[ragdollrain]

On Saturday, I had the fortune of seeing Beetlejuice the Musical live at the Marquis theater running on nothing but a few hours of sleep, black tea, borrowed french fries and a vegan brownie. All of the main cast was the same except for Adam, who was played by the very talented Graham Stevens. A few things stuck out to me in this performance, so here they are!

I’ll start by saying the audience had a great time and the cast absolutely killed it (as usual). People seemed to go especially wild for “No Reason” -- almost every one of Delia’s lines throughout the show got a laugh from the audience. There was a standing ovation at the curtain call, it was amazing. 

- Alex flipped the bird at the audience at least 3 times throughout the show. It was hilarious and very quick and subtle each time.

- Sad puppet show: “Noooooo! I’m only 11 years old! There’s so much I wanted to do!”

- During Fright of Their Lives, he jumped at Barbara’s first “primal scream” before settling down and looking disappointed. 

- “Or dress like a baby!” “What the shit, Adam?”

- The line “nobody’s like me,” after Fright of Their Lives was delivered in the saddest way possible. The man sounded like he was crying -- he stepped away and said “sorry” in the smallest voice. The audience literally “awwed” at him, it was such an experience. The “fuck you guys” after that was also delivered quietly through tears. This made his invisible reprise on the roof so much more depressing, you could almost feel it in the room. 

- I can’t remember exactly which other lines were delivered this way, but there were a few moments before Fright of Their Lives that matched up. Overall he really played up that aspect of Beetlejuice.

- After That Beautiful Sound, two of the clones ran off the stage through the staircase on the aisle (I was right at the edge), and one of them was SCREAMING laughing and it was the funniest fucking thing.

- When Beetlejuice announced he was going to marry Lydia, before saying it was a green card thing, the skeletons and the clones made the confused Scooby Doo sound. “Ruuh?” I have no idea if this is the norm but it made everyone laugh and it was great. 

- During Creepy Old Guy, as Lydia’s veil was being unraveled and Adam was pulling him to the side, he leaned over and tried to kiss him. Twice. He was rejected both times and stumbled away. 

- Are you familiar with that post about the audience reacting to Beetlejuice’s death as though a real person was stabbed live on stage? Yeah.

- When Juno appeared, rather than freezing in fear he appeared to be possessed by her. She pointed in his direction and his arms went up, and he moved to try and tug them out of place. 

- The audience responded to “Look, Lydia! Now we both have dead moms!” in many different ways. They were silent for a moment, then a quarter of them booed, another quarter laughed, and I think a few people cheered and clapped. 

Side notes

- After the line “the sound of clean white shorts going brown!” a guy behind me said loudly to his friend that he didn’t get it. 

- Someone yelled “gross” in an angry way at Charles and Delia making out with each other.

- My friend referred to Lydia as “Linda” after the play. This isn’t about the performance but people need to know. 

Overall, everyone was incredible! I’m so happy I got to see it -- I didn’t think I would be able to but I did. I’m glad I saw it exactly as I did too -- being very familiar with it already and having this build-up beforehand because you already love it. And you don’t miss any lines, so there’s no potential for you to get lost or confused with the plot. I didn’t think I could get *more* into it, but somehow I did. Seeing this More Baby Than Bastard Beej will probably affect how I write him, too. 

[imagines-fandom]

I love you, dumbass (Daryl Dixon x reader)

Note- this is going to be a long imagine

Pairings- Daryl x reader, Glenn x platonic!reader

Summary- Daryl and reader get into a fight before he leaves for the hunting trip. they don't make up until after the herd took over the quarry.

Warnings- usual walking dead violence, swearing, arguing, brief mention of nightmares

The thought of telling Daryl Dixon the only person he has left in this world was handcuffed on a roof in the big city made me sick. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if that was me. Probably beat the shit out of whoever left him.

The thought of us leaving on bad terms was soon to follow. Whenever I volunteer to go on runs with Glenn or do anything remotely dangerous, he’s very quick to tell me no. He tells me no as if he has that authority over me. Instead of brushing it off like I usually do, I snapped.

I tried nicely to tell him off. I wished the words had come out that way. Daryl and I have grown close over these last 3 months. We’ve bonded over hunting and having shitty childhoods. I no doubt developed a crush on him. I think at this point everyone knows but him. He isn’t the best with girls...or people in general.

When you break down his walls, you get to see a different side of him. I see a sarcastic, sweet, protective man. Let’s not forget his good looks. His ocean blue eyes never fail to give me butterflies. The group sees the short fused, stubborn and hot headed side of him. He’ll say what comes to mind not caring who hears it. He’s a lot like his brother, Merle.

In the end, I decided to skip out on this run. I woke up covered in sweat from an unpleasant nightmare. I was the only one to die that day from getting stuck in a group of walkers. I decided to stay back. Jacqui took my place. Only one good thing came out of that day. Lori’s husband, Rick, reunited with her and Carl.

They thought he was dead this whole time. He suffered a bullet wound to the abdomen. Since the world ended, no one was there to take care of him. Somehow he pulled through. I’d be terrified if I woke up from a coma to a shitshow like this. I woke up bright and early the next morning. It’s kind of hard to sleep in a tent with a million birds around you.

Everyone was eating breakfast and getting a start to their day. That was until screams of children filled the air. I grabbed my knife as I started to sprint to the source of the screams. Several people were running alongside me. Jacqui was watching them at the edge of camp. A small group went to check out why everyone was screaming. In a tiny clearing next to a couple of boulders, was a walker.

It was hunched over the neck of a deer. The deer had multiple arrows sticking out of it’s thigh. They were Daryl’s arrows. We took out the walker before it could eat anymore. We started to hear rustling behind the boulder. The bushes started to shake. We all got ready to fight the possible walker, or walkers, off.

Daryl walked out from behind a boulder. He paid no attention to us. “Son of a bitch. That’s my deer,” he yelled. He walked over to the walker. “It’s all gnawed on by this deceased, motherless bastard.” He kicked it a few times.

Dale sighed,

“Calm down, son. That’s not gonna help.”

“What do you know about it, ol’ man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to on golden pond? I’ve been tracking this thing for miles.” He crouched down next to the deer. “Do you think we could cut around this part right here?”

“Wouldn’t risk it,” Shane mumbled

“What a shame. I got squirrels that'll have to do.” He walked towards camp shouting for Merle.

Shane called out to Daryl as we followed behind him. “Hold up a bit, will you? I need to talk to you about something.” Daryl stopped to wait for him. I held my breath as I watched them. Shane started to explain everything then Rick joined in. He threw his squirrels at Rick as a distraction to punch him.

Shane side-checked Daryl onto the ground. Daryl, of course, had to pull out his knife. He stood up to swing it at Rick a few times. Since Rick was a cop, he knew how to handle this. Both him and Shane did. They had him to the ground in seconds. Rick calmly explained what happened while Daryl was catching his breath on the ground.

T intervened to explain that he stopped to padlock the door shut on his way out. It led him to believe Merle was safe from them. Only a few could fit in the narrow hallway at once anyway. Rick was going to go with Daryl into the city to get him. I grabbed my bow as I made my way towards the truck.

“You ain’t going.”

“What? Daryl, you need help-”

“Nah.” He walked off.

They waited a few minutes to start talking Rick out of it. It wasn’t just Merle he was going back for. Rick dropped a bag full of guns and ammo in the middle of the street. We needed that more than anything. We did need it just in case anything happened. Glenn, Rick, T and Daryl were going. I was banned from going thanks to Daryl.

Daryl was growing more impatient by the second. They loaded into the van before driving off. The rest of the day went by slowly. That was until Amy and Andrea caught over a dozen fish. All of us were going to bed on full stomachs. I don’t think that’s happened in the 3 months we’ve been here. Everyone couldn’t stop thinking about the fish fry.

The smell was amazing. We were all buzzing with excitement. We all gathered around the fires. We were all sitting around the fire, eating and making jokes. Amy got up to use the bathroom to which we continued the conversation without her. Minutes later, she came out of the RV complaining about us being out of toilet paper. It fell silent for a second as she was waiting for a response.

A blood curdling scream erupted from her. We turned around to see a walker taking a bite out of her arm. Several came out from behind the RV. Everyone erupted into screams. It was hard to tell what was going on. I quickly fumbled for my bow. Shane and Morales were helping the weaker fighters and kids up the RV.

The walkers around there were already well into camp. People were screaming and running all over. It was hard to see who was what. Gunshots started coming from the other side of the camp. The group was back. They had the bag of guns and ammo that Rick went for.

When the walkers were dead, we all stood in front of the RV. Andrea sobbed out for her now dead sister. Amy was bit a second time in the neck. She lost way too much blood. I noticed Glenn hyperventilating off to the side. I tightly pulled him into a hug.

“You’re ok, right? No bites?”

“I’m good. How about you?”

“Shaken up but fine. How did the city go?”

“Merle cut his hand off, cauterized the wound, escaped the building, and stole our truck. We ran into a group taking care of old people. They had me hostage.” I pulled away to look at him. “Let’s not talk about it. Go find Daryl.”

Where the hell was Daryl? I didn’t even see him yet. I quickly walked around camp calling out his name. There was so much commotion that I wasn’t hearing anything back. I sped up hoping to see him. I sighed in relief when I saw him taking out a walker.

“Daryl,” a sob got caught in my throat. I don’t know where that emotion came from. He dropped his gun as he started to make his way to me. I ran up to him jumping into his arms. I took the leap of faith that I have wanted to for months. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to kiss him.

When we pulled away, I tightly hugged him.

“Let’s never leave each other when we are mad. I love you too much to lose you.”

“So you love me?” I looked up at him to see a wide grin on his face.

“Yes. I love you, dumbass.”

“I love you too, idiot.” He leaned down to kiss me again.

[hmspogue]

Outer Banks season 2 Official Trailer shot-by-shot rundown

A comprehensive post where I scream about analyze the entire trailer frame by frame for clues, theories, and plot. Just my own opinions and general tin foil-hatting

These are screenshots from Netflix’s trailer for Outer Banks season 2. I do not claim or own any of these.

note: this post is tagged as a long post if you wish to avoid having to scroll until your thumbs break.

“My old man used to tell me, ‘it’s best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom’.”

(Putting all of these shots together since they’re scenes we already know but-) Holy shit, okay let’s just....start off like this I guess, damn.

“'Trust me’, he said...”

Kiara looking back and forth between the boys like this really just feeds the headcanon I have that her form of grief this season is going to be her trying to hold it together for their sakes (and eventually just snapping).

JJ just looks fucking furious someone give these kids a hug? I already know this scene is going to ruin me.

“You can always go...”

JJ back working at the hotel. He looks literally so angry again in this scene I could see him self destructing at work and losing his job? (Please do not be isolating yourself you beautiful son of a bitch even though I know you’re going to).

Pope in the Twinkie (costuming wise they all are in warmer looking clothes for some of the shots, so just confirming it’s a little bit into the school year when this all takes place).

“Lower”

Big John was real big into pep talks, I see. (seriously can you imagine Big John having this conversation with like 8 year old John B after he fucking dropped his ice cream cone or some shit I shouldn’t be laughing).

I’m just-

These poor kids, I wanna know how the police all the way down in the Bahama’s knew about them?

Their calves....

“RUN!”

Are going to be so fucking jacked by the end of this season I stg.

Fuck you.

“The gold from the Royal Merchant....it’s here.”

For a while, I had thought that maybe they didn’t even make it to the Bahama’s at the front of the season and ended there (because everyone had been filming in there). But I guess they’re going to be making two trips.

If I were a bird from this POV I’d shit right on that house no questions asked.

oooooh ho hokay. Just so we’re clear. Ward Cameron not only get away with murder and about two dozen other felonies, but-

“Half a billion.”

HE STILL FINDS THE GOLD IN THE CRAIN HOUSE AND GETS TO KEEP IT?

Not the polo with the snap back, I just know this man has a playlist called Sad Boi Hours that is just Juice WRLD’s top 5 songs on Spotify and he tells his friends they wouldn’t know the underground artists he listens to.

Sh, you have lost screaming privileges. Go inside and take a nap maybe.

“John B, we are fugitives in a foreign country.”

So, previously, I was talking about how I was confused how they would still be trying to find him is everyone thought he was dead, but here the wanted poster clearly says “presumed lost at sea”. I think that will be interesting to see how the Pogues all interpret that. 

Especially because they already had a memorial for John B and everything, I wonder if there will be any part of the Pogues holding out hope that they both could still be out there OUCH.

I’m going to circle back to this, but it looks like John B and Sarah are going to get separated for a little while in this man hunt, I could see my idiot himbo son trying to sacrifice himself so Sarah can get away but in reality just....stranding her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Oh, sweetie....

“Well, Sarah Cameron, I do stupid things all the time without realizing it.”

The volume of his self awareness is astronomical. sir, that is your whole character summed up in your own words.

GOD, IT’S ME AGAIN. PLEASE LET THEM LEAN INTO COMPLETE HIMBO JOHN B THIS SEASON I’LL DO ANYTHING-

nyyooooOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

“Hold on!”

The complete abject terror I would feel having John Booker Routledge driving get-away and then saying the words “Hold on” while reaching fro the gear shift? The english language fails me. 

Sarah, bestie, I’m so sorry.

I just wanna know-

what the plan or objective was in this situation. What was the reason for being this dramatic.

Rest in piss, bozo <3

“Ward’s still out there...”

Okay, same conversation they were having as before. I wonder what makes them decide they need to get back to the OBX for this tho.

“I can clear my name. This can all be over in one shot.”

It looks like Topper watching this but way more concerningly, correct me if I’m wrong but this 100% looks like....John B gets caught. And the DEATH PENALTY?! He did have a mug shot for the fliers in s1 and the one above but he was never brought in? Plus he just looks super dirty and dishevled in this one so I-

Jail break anyone?

I also still want to know if they’re going to go with a Topper redemption arc this season. like, does he know more than he should just from being around Rafe and his big fat mouth? Is he going to help out the Pogues even if it’s just for Sarah?

This shot just suddenly made me really sad. The thought of this all started because Big John left one last thing for his son to find, his literal life’s work. And when it all started, it was just a fun adventure John B and his best friends were going on together and having fun with. Then it all got dragged to absolute shit and turned into what it did, including the remaining 3 Pogues thinking that this treasure hunt took their two best friends away from them. And it’s nothing like Big John intended it to be.

Why my eyes wet?

Now we’re edging into what I was talking about earlier with John B and Sarah getting separated.

“If you think there is anything I wouldn’t do...”

Once again, John B is no where to be found. Also, just in case y’all didn’t already know or forgot Ward is an actual psychopath.

I believe this one of the new character, played by Jontavious Johnson (Stubbs). Based on the voice over it lowkey sounds like they’re implying Ward maybe hired Stubbs and Cleo to find and bring Sarah back. My theory would be I bet they do go to retrieve her, but she somehow convinces them that it would be more beneficial for them in the end to be on the Pogue’s side instead.

Miss Girl you gotta be keeping your head on a SWIVEL. Especially when you’re a FUGITIVE of the LAW-

“...you haven’t been paying attention.”

My guy, who are you clarifying this for?

It’s what you deserve for monologuing.

in all seriousness, the idea of them coming to face to face with Ward in Nassau after thinking they finally escaped him is genuinely terrifying.

“SARAH!”

It kind of looks like they’re either hiding their faces or covering their noses? I don’t know maybe it was from some tactic to get away from Ward.

What did I literally jsut say about yelling privileges, you unhinged mother fucker?

“I’m calling the shots now. I’m driving.”

The following progression of scenes made me actually snort-

“I can’t drive stick.”

PLEASE THE FINGER GUNS LAUNCHED ME INTO ORBIT I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

Alright, so now it looks like we’re in Charleston. This is the same scene with Heyward’s truck that got leaked from BTS (read: JJ and Kie shoulder touch).

One of the main things that stuck out to me in the following scenes which, you will see, is it lowkey looks like Pope is kind of heading up this part of the operation, or even going in alone? The following clips are just very Pope focused. 

I don’t know what it means, it’s just an observation.

“John B was not the only one that Ward double-crossed.”

LIMBRY-

Bro, we have been hearing about this woman for literal months and I just have....so many questions? 

Who the hell is she? How is she connected to Ward? Why is she in South Carolina instead of the OBX? How do the Pogues even learn about her and how to track her down? How is she meant to “help” them? GAH I JUST WANNA KNOOOW. I already know I don’t trust her though and no I will not be offering up supporting evidence.

Sir, that is my son please unhand him.

“I think you know what I want.”

.......no? But feel....free to explain yourself?

The print on the paper is the same one that’s on the ceiling tiles in the following scene. Obviously, with a key on it that most likely goes to the place a few shots from now.

Hell yeah, son, let’s get SLEUTHING.

“The treasure belongs to the Pogues.”

DAMN STRAIGHT.

Bestie’s I’m not going to lie, I stared at this frame for a solid 10 minuets and I have no idea what it says on there I’m sorry. Someone in the comments is welcome to enlighten us.

“We gotta find it first.”

I can’t tell if that’s just dirt or if he hurt his head? But he look GOOD right now for one thing. For another, same outfit as the one in the Twinkie from the beginning of the trailer.

Look at her. LooK AT HER! LOOK! AT! HER! I MISSED HER SO MUCH even in that damn smiley face top that continues to haunt my waking hours she is in it so much and it stresses me out for literally no good reason I’m sorry-

I could literally cry right now and I think that speaks volumes to how little we actually see him genuinely happy. Have I mentioned how much I love that red hat?

Also, probably not that important, but this is not from the same scene as the shots of Pope and Kiara were. This is from the next one-

“Woogity-woogity?”

“Give me some woogity, baby!”

Yeah, this pushed me over the fucking edge, the way that they’re actually happy and laughing? The fact that they kept woogity-woogity and made it A Thing? Yes.

I am, however, going to be intentionally ignoring what appears to be the very intentional stagingof having such an obvious space between where Kiara and Pope are sitting adn where JJ sits, even including the level they’re sitting on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to face those implications right now. Thank you for your time.

Yes yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE ME ALL OF THE SCENES OF THEM ACTUALLY GETTING TO BE TEENAGERS AND JUST BREATHE AND LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT BE RUNNING FOR THEIR FUCKING LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!

before Rafe comes in and literally starts shooting because they can’t breathe for more than 7 seconds but we’ll....get to that.

They refer to Sarah as a Pogue this season or I burn Netflix to the ground. Your move, Jonas.

50 bucks says John B is driving the Twinkie again for the first time since being back.

I deadass think the Pogues JUST got Sarah and John B back and they’re just having the time of their life. Kie was in her smiley face outfit when Pope was in this one a few clips ago, and I still hold to the belief that that one still they released of JJ and Kie hopping over a fence is the Pogue reunion so-

Ward? I have no idea what he’s looking at behind the wall paper and I’ll be so honest I don’t care my eyes are only seeing Pogue content right now.

“This is a map of the whole island.”

This fit, when will John B learn how to operate buttons, stay tuned for season 5. Also my previous theory of this being their reunion outfits and stuff because Pope is in the back in the same jacket as before.

The plot thickens and so has JJ’s hair, Rudy drop the shampoo brand.

Please, dear God, tell me they’re back in the sex church. For @jiaaraa sake.

Kiara, your Madison is showing.

Okay, I really did try but all I can make out is Something to the tomb begin something something.

You’re welcome.

I am no expert but I do not believe boats operate on land.

John B looks like he is in the same outfit here that is in his mug shot we saw on the TV screen so I have a sneaking suspicion this is where he gets caught. 

“John B is back-”

Once again with the damn sexual tension that’s always between Barry and Rafe in every scene they do are we about to kiss right now?

“-it’s him or me.”

First of all, no.

Second of all, I’m just....so very confused about this time line this season. It kind of looks like Ward and Rafe follow and find Sarah and John B in Nassau (unless those scenes by the truck were actually back in the OBX). So did they....go to Nassau, then just come right back when they did? I’m just confused.

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.

Literally when will you stop at this point I am begging you. 

This looks like the same scene the Pogues were, ya know, literally just having a good time at so fuck me, I guess.

Yeah, no, it’s going to be a no from me, I’m just going to pretend like I’m not seeing this and moving on.

I have simply no idea what is going on here or who that is on the bike but maybe JJ? Maybe Luke even? I think that’s JJ’s bike. 

The sewer scene. The SEWER SCENE-

For months sicne that tiktok leaked this damn scene has been genuinely all I could think about. So (obviously) it seems like they’re sending Kie down into the sewer to go do seomthing and things go horribly, horribly wrong. 

If you haven’t seen the tiktok, essentially all it was was JJ and Pope screaming and trying to lift up the man hole cover while Kie is begging for them to hurry from inside. I’m cheating a little bit as this isn’t a shot from the trailer but this picture was posted and it’s from the same scene.

I’ll just....leave this here. Back to the trailer shots.

Nice. Also, same shirt as mugshot.

Hey, um, what? 

Kiara’s car, she’s driving, I can’t tell who’s in the back seat or the front.

Holy God what is going on and how can I as an audience member put a stop to it?

So, same scene as we will see and was in the teaser but, for some reason, they’re all jumping off of a giant ass boat into the little life raft where it looks like JJ gets hurt later but don’t you worry we’re getting to that.

JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE THEY BOTH LOOK SO DAMN GOOD AND THEIR LITTLE SMILES SPARE ME-

Cleo 🥵

I’m so excited to see her arc and what it brings this season you guys have no idea.

Please for the love of God be about to get Ward Cameron’s ass like he deserves literally punt him into jail right from Tanny Hill.

Sarah at My Druther’s with what looks like a bloody bandage on her side? Same outfit she’s wearing when they’re running from the police on the beach and she has the bandage there too so. Interesting. 

Topper hugging who I’m pretty sure is Sarah, being a general douche because he’s clearly looking at John B like 😏 

Clips like these serve to remind me just how many of my worldly posessions I would gladly give up to be able to punch Topper Thorton in the throat one time. 

I think this is Cleo jumping off the boat with Pope after John B and Sarah. 

Absolutely busting a lung at Pope’s form in this one.

John B and Sarah waiting in the life raft, still Cleo and Pope coming after them. The obvious next question is where are JJ and Kiara. The scene I’m sure you all have been waiting for is coming up and clearly takes place in the life raft as well.

So, I really think JJ and Kie get left for last, something horrible happens as they’re trying to jump (my head instantly goes to JJ maybe like pushing Kie out of the way and getting hit on the head instead or even just some accident). 

And, oh my GOD a scene of him falling off the boat after it happens and Kiara diving in after him immediately, having to desperatly try to stop him from sinkingand get to the life raft holy shit-

Girl CATCH HIM?????

Because why wouldn’t this be Rafe’s fault. Part of me wonders if this isn’t related to JJ being hurt.

I am going to try and unpack this as calmly as possible because behind my computer screen I am vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass but respectfully.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS TIAUEWFHLAILA

Okay, so scene wise, JJ’s hit his head somehow (probably while he was jumping with Kiara) it looks like and now they’re back on the raft. 

In my opinion, this is either:

A) JJ is in really, really bad condition after getting hurt in the jump and they’re not sure he’s going to make it. So this is a “Please stay with me, stay awake, please don’t die” hug OR

B) They very narrowly just avoided a deadly situation (my first thought is JJ hits his head while jumping, passes out in the water, maybe almost drowns but Kie and the others get him onto the life raft in time) and this is more of a “Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re safe now, we’re okay” hug. 

I honestly lean more to the second one based on the little bit of Sarah’s face we saw in the background. To me, it almost looked like she was smiling thru tears, which, fits way more with the second option than the first. 

Anyways. Moving on before I burst a lung again.

(also, before anyone comes at me, no, I’m not happy JJ is hurt, obviously.  

(Once again, arrest outfits). You can still see the bandage but it looks like Sarah’s limping now too so...good Lord give the girl a break maybe?

Everything in this trailer just went to shit so fast I think I have whip lash, can we go back to the Pogues hanging out and being happy now pkease I liked those scenes.

“I get it. You guys are scared.”

“No.”

She’s cute but, uh, hello sewer scene outfits. Seems like them planning to do whatever the hell they were going to do in the sewers but the boys are starting to get cold feet as maybe they should but hind sight is 20/20 I suppose.

“It’s kind of cute.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should’ve just led with that.”

I will never be able to express how much I adore Pogue banter and general dumbassery and I have a feeling this season will not be lacking in either department

I high key don’t think these two are actually going to be there for this scene to go down but I’ll let it slide this time because-

They do be kinda cute.

It both feels like I’ve been waiting for this damn show for 3 years and also like I just watched season 1 last month explain that to me. 

Either way holy shit. I missed this dumb show and these dumb kids so much it physcially hurts and WE GET THEM BACK IN T-MINUS 16 DAYS.

Also. Where The Hell Is Wheezie Cameron And When Will She Have The Rights She Deserves.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Were you the person who had a post about "what if Rayla had died on the mission and Runaan had lived"? I was thinking about that... is there a possible scenario where Rayla had escaped with the egg and princes the same way as in canon, but Runaan and the other assassins had survived and now believed Rayla was dead and both somehow missed each other? The angst possibilities from Runaan's end, at least until he got back to Silvergrove, but even then he would angst over having 'abandoned' Rayla...

You know, I don't remember making a post like that, but I can tell it's an angst I could get behind, so maybe I did?

Fam, I love a good honest misunderstanding, oh man, those are great! Very tasty stuff. So let's see here... oh gosh this really took off, huh? Yas.

________________________

"Runaan, please," Rayla begged, planting herself between her mentor and her new allies the human princes, "this is a miracle, a chance for peace."

"No," came a smug, raspy voice from behind her, "it's not."

Rayla whirled in surprise. How had the dark mage gotten free of her manacle so quickly?

Claudia stood beside Callum, smirking confidently and holding the primal stone she'd just stolen back from him. But her smirk dropped at the sound of Runaan's bowstring. A green-fletched arrow whispered past Rayla's shoulder, headed for the dark mage's heart. Rayla's eyes widened as she realized she was about to watch her first human die.

"No!" Callum held his sketchbook in front of Claudia's chest. Runaan's arrow punched through it with a heavy thunk. Claudia, Callum, and Rayla stared at its poison-dipped broadhead in shock. The deadly metal fell just short of cutting through Claudia's tunic.

Rayla spun back to face the older assassin. "Runaan, wait-" But he was already loosing another arrow. Rayla cut it out of the air.

"Callum!" Ezran called plaintively. Bait, perched in his hair, croaked too.

"Get out of here," Rayla told the humans. "And keep that egg safe." She spared Claudia a single glare.

Runaan began striding closer, and he whipped another arrow from his quiver and nocked it. Rayla knew he'd loose that last arrow before he got close enough to use his swords instead. And that, she did not want to see at any distance. Not when so much else was at stake!

"That's far enough, elf," Claudia called threateningly. She held up the primal stone and began to chant in Ancient Draconic. The air started to crackle with lightning.

"Claudia, wait!" Callum shouted. He grabbed her wrist again, but this time, the primal stone wobbled and fell as they both scrabbled for control of it. Rayla gasped, watching it tumble. Neither of them were going to be able to catch it. She suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to, either. She shot Runaan a regretful, pleading look.

Runaan's arrow loosed. With everyone in motion, Rayla couldn't be sure if Callum would be in his line of fire when it arrived. She folded her swords and turned her back on her mentor, squeezed her eyes shut, and stepped into its path.

"Rayla!" Runaan's voice cracked the air like a whip.

"Rayla, look out!" Ezran shouted.

The primal stone hit the stone walkway and shattered.

The first massive gust of wind struck Rayla and tumbled her just as Runaan's arrow found its mark. With a cry of surprise, Rayla rolled across the high stone walkway, flanked by Claudia, Callum, and Ezran, who was somehow still holding onto the egg. Rayla thumped against the parapet and scrabbled for a grip against one of its crenellated edges, feeling her feet kicking in midair while a screeching gale scattered everyone and everything that had been on the castle roof a moment ago.

Runaan stood on the other side of the walkway, barely on his feet as he braced against the wind. His ponytail whipped like an angry snake, but his face was full of pain and alarm. "Rayla!" he shouted.

"Runaan..." Why was her voice so weak? Shouldn't she want his help?

Crumpled against the crenellated wall below Rayla's tenacious grip, Callum, Claudia, Ezran and Bait huddled together for dear life.

"Rayla, this isn't what I wanted!" Runaan shouted over the wind. He tried to stagger toward her through the strongest of the winds, but they only shoved him back against the far parapet.

"Claudia, help her!" Callum called.

But Claudia was distracted by the alarming amount of rainbow-hued magic that had begun crackling off the egg of the Dragon Prince. "What's happening?" she blurted.

"Help..." Rayla called.

"Fine, I'll help her, then!" Callum stood in the storm and reached for Rayla's hands.

Another arrow zipped past, whirling madly off target in the howling wind. Callum flinched back, then grasped Rayla's hands firmly. "I've got you!"

"And I've got him!" Claudia said. She pulled a glowing orange thing from her bag and started chanting, and she squished the orange shape until it oozed meatily between her fingers. Its gory remains caught fire, quickly swelling to a fervent blue heat that made the princes flinch away.

"No!" Rayla's grip slipped in shock, but Callum braced his feet hard and held on tight.

Then Claudia threw it, just as the storm grew an eye of calm.

Runaan was already leaping high with his swords in his hands. The fireball landed directly beneath him. Rayla's last sight of her mentor, as the blast struck Callum and forced her hands free of his, was of Runaan's tumbling, silent figure flying back over the outer wall of the castle and vanishing into the fury of the storm.

Was he coming to save me, or to kill me? she wondered as she fell too, engulfed by the same winds that took him. She closed her eyes, expecting to meet her fate, but a fluffy and overstuffed cart of hay had other ideas and Rayla flopped safely down into the courtyard.

Her first instinct was to jump up and go find Runaan. But then she remembered: his side of the castle roof had a much farther drop. She'd finished climbing it herself not an hour ago. And with all those rocks dotting the river, she couldn't imagine how he'd survive such a fall.

"Oh no... Ethari, I'm so sorry," she murmured brokenly.

But the storm was only growing stronger, and the rainbow lightning up on the roof grew brighter and brighter. Rayla stared in awe and amazement. Was the egg... hatching?

A newborn dragonling would need more protection than an egg. She scrambled out of the hay and darted through the wind, trying to find her way back up. Before she could, though, the storm wore itself out, and she ran into Callum, Ezran, and Bait as they bolted down a curving flight of stairs.

Rayla whipped out her swords. "Where's the dark mage?" she demanded.

"She ran to find her dad," Ezran said.

"Yeah, , but after she got giant heart eyes and squeed over the baby dragon," Callum added, looking starry-eyed in a conflicted way.

"The wot?" Rayla asked.

"Look!" Ezran opened his coat and showed her a cuddly, fluffy dragonling nestled quietly against his chest.

Bait grumbled, but Rayla gasped in delight and held the dragon's little face. "Oh, he's just so cute! Why is he allowed to be so cute?" she demanded playfully.

"His name is Zym," Ezran said.

"Hello, Zym," Rayla said quietly, ruffling his soft fluff. The dragonling sniffed at her hand and licked it, and then he nipped at her binding ribbon, pulling it off. Rayla stared at it in shock, allowing Zym the opportunity to nibble off the other ribbon, too. "Huh," Rayla mused. "Guess these things were just decorative after all."

They ran to the bottom of the stairs and began to hurry toward the main gate. "But what about Dad?" Ezran asked, looking worriedly at the uneven towers.

"He'll be alright," Callum said. "He has the finest guards in the kingdom defending him."

"Yeah, of course!" Ezran piped up.

Without Runaan, the others won't stand much chance, Rayla thought angstily. They'll soon fall too, if they haven't already-

"Rayla, uh..." Callum gingerly touched something stuck in the back of Rayla's hoodie. "You've got something on your back. Ez, go hide for just a second, okay? I need to help Rayla with something."

"...Okay, but hurry," Ezran whispered, as he darted into a shadowy tunnel. "Bait, no glowing, he didn't mean that kind of hiding."

"It's an arrow," Callum murmured to her, once Ez was out of earshot. "Is it, um, does it hurt? I didn't want him to have to see any blood or anything..."

The arrow. Rayla straightened her shoulders to see if she'd actually been hit. "I think it just missed me," she said lightly, not wanting to think about what would've happened if it had pierced even one more layer of clothing and scratched her skin with its deadly poison.

Callum tugged it out of the cloth and awkwardly offered it to her. Rayla took it and stared for a moment. The arrow's shaft had broken when she fell, and it dangled like a felled bird in her grip.

Runaan. He'd fallen, too. Probably permanently. Rayla's shoulders slumped, and she added, "I... We need to hurry. They'll be comin' for us soon, and it's a long journey to Xadia."

"Rayla!" It was Callisto, perched overhead in full Moonshadow form. "Where's- It's done?" he blurted, interrupting himself. His eyes locked onto Rayla's wrists.

A clamor of guards ahead drew his attention, and he leaped toward them, staff at the ready. Rayla grabbed Callum by the arm and ran, snagging Ezran's sleeve a dozen steps later. "Don't look back," she hissed, shifting into full Moonshadow form mid-stride. They didn't need to know she was only talking to herself.

In a few minutes, they reached the forest. Its cool shadows swallowed them whole, and they ran all night. There was no reason to wait anymore.

***

Runaan woke to gentle hands pulling him from the water. He coughed himself awake and sat up slowly, holding his head. When his focus returned, he shot an alarmed glance at the sky and saw that the Moon had nearly set. "We must hurry-" he began, trying to stand.

Four sets of hands pressed him back onto the grass.

"Easy, Runaan," Callisto said. "It's done. It's over. We can go home."

With wide-eyed disbelief, Runaan checked Callisto's wrists, then Andromeda's. Then Ram's and Skor's, too. Their binding ribbons were indeed gone.

A strange sort of lightness flitted through Runaan's chest, heady, intoxicating, and refreshing, erasing his injuries--or his perception of them, at least. His reward for a job well done. The ribbons around his biceps loosened and turned red before drifting to the grass as softly as newly fallen leaves.

Runaan reached back for his shadowhawk arrow and found his quiver gone. No... Ethari's arrow! He scanned his squad's expressions hopefully.

"Sorry. We couldn't find it. But we did find your bowblade," Skor said, offering it.

Runaan took it gratefully, feeling a bit of calm returning along with the familiar weight in his hands.

"We did it. We actually did it," Andromeda said as she got to her feet. Her smile beamed like the Moon. "I can't wait to get home."

"Unless Runaan needs a moment first," Callisto said mildly.

"No, we should leave now, and we should hurry," Runaan said. "Without the shadowhawk, the Queen of the Dragons will be waiting on my personal word. I should not keep her, not in her condition." The rest of his team stood immediately, and he took the hand Callisto offered and stood with focused effort. "We only need to make one stop along the way."

But the rock he'd parked Rayla on was empty. And so were the next dozen rocks. "You're certain you saw her?" he said, clasping Calisto by the shoulders, turquoise gaze boring into his eyes.

"Aye, clear as moonlight," he replied. "But only for a moment. And..."

"What?"

"The human with her pulled your... a-an arrow... from..." Callisto looked aside awkwardly.

"If she took even a scratch..." Andromeda breathed.

"Shh," Skor hushed her.

The assassins went quiet, waiting respectfully.

Runaan's eyes widened. He thought he'd struck true when Rayla stepped into the path of his arrow. Then he thought he'd missed, when she survived long enough to cling to the parapet and call his name. Then he thought the explosion had taken her. Then, hope again, only to have it ripped away one final time. He knew how terribly deadly his chosen poison was. His face froze in a mask of pain, and he shut his eyes. He felt like he was falling from the parapet again, except this time, there wouldn't be any merciful oblivion to put him out of his misery at the bottom. There'd never be a bottom to this fall from grace.

Ethari gave me one job. And I failed him. Does he know yet? Did he watch her flower sink?

Runaan gulped and gritted his teeth. Mourning would have to wait with all his other feelings. He still had a job to do.

He stood straight, gripping his bowblade, and met everyone's eyes, one by one. "We run for home. Ethari can make me a new arrow there. Move out."

They flowed into motion, and Runaan let them take the lead. It was only logical to track and follow the other elves, he reasoned, since he was having such trouble seeing the forest clearly through the tears in his eyes.

[borkthemork]

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on. 

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent. 

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep. 

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted,  letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did. 

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock. 

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful. 

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this. 

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

[mythicamagic]

“Call it a truce”

(For the prompt if you’d like)

They'd crossed paths eight times now inside the godforsaken maze. Naraku had placed them under some sort of spell- Kagome wasn’t totally sure if her friends were also somewhere inside. It had all happened way too quickly. One second she’d been fighting alongside her comrades- the next, waking up inside a bizarre hellscape.

Sadly the only person she’d seen thus far was Sesshoumaru of all demons. When they’d first bumped into each other- blue and gold had narrowed- both quickly turning in the opposite directions.

Gradually, however, time wore on. A continuous mist obscured every corner of the black maze, its towering walls strangled by twisting, thorny vines. Red skies hung overhead, a barrier likely preventing Sesshoumaru from flying upwards, otherwise he would've escaped by now.

Kagome had just one arrow and one weathered bow. No food, and no water. Just the clothes on her back and strung out nerves, wits starting to fray at the edges. Her footsteps sounded too loud in the empty space. The mist kept rolling, making her paranoid- imagining salivating demons and evil spirits haunting her steps.

Am I going to die in here?

Gritting blunt teeth, Kagome let out a frustrated noise- wrapping her hands around the nearest thorny vines and letting reiki burst free from her fingertips. Maybe she could just blast her way through the wall. Pink light glowed like a signal flare, shimmering and giving her a brief taste of renewed hope.

“It will not work.”

She frowned, registering Sesshoumaru’s acerbic tone. Just as he’d said, when her holy light died, the thorns remained.

Kagome glanced over her shoulder, finding him closer than expected. She shifted warily to maintain some distance. They’d refrained from talking so far during their encounters in the maze. This was unexpected. And worrying. If Sesshoumaru was out of options, things were dire.

“Flying is a no go, I’m guessing?"

He stiffly nodded in response, head tilting back to gaze hatefully at the high walls. Kagome shivered, wrapping both arms around herself. “Damn it. I have no idea what to do. I can sense Naraku’s youki but it's everywhere so there's no chance of pinpointing him. It’s soaked into the air like gasoline."

"I am also unable to locate the wretch."

Kagome blinked, glad he was reciprocating conversation.

"We're locked in a spell or under a curse, I’ve got no doubt about that. I just don’t know if these are our real bodies or not…”

Were they trapped somewhere mentally? Caged like birds?

Sesshoumaru levelled a look down to her hands, gesturing with a claw. “The cuts do not hurt?”

Kagome blinked, flexing her fingers. She hadn’t even realised they’d been pricked by the thorns. “N-no.”

“Then it appears he has either somehow trapped us within a space that has absorbed our conscious minds or put us in an area that dulls the senses. Perhaps a keeper box of some kind," Sesshoumaru said easily, as though he did this all the time.

Kagome’s heart pumped at a dizzying speed. Keeper box. She'd been in one of those before. The face of sage Tokajin came to mind. “Crap,” she whispered.

"Unpleasant memories, miko?" a lofty, entertained tone brushed her hearing.

Kagome sneered half-heartedly, "it's nothing."

Sesshoumaru's eyes glowed, smiling. As if he could see right through her. "Hn."

“We gotta get out of here," she said dismissively. "Since this is Naraku we’re dealing with- I doubt just finding the centre of this maze will let us get outta here and break the curse, and knowing him there’s no exit.”

“Hn, and yet I can think of nothing else after trying everything."

Kagome gave him a sweeping glance over, swallowing. She hadn’t seen him since he’d nearly killed Kohaku- still thankful he’d released the mind controlled boy.

They were still technically enemies despite a shared goal of killing Naraku.

Steeling herself, Kagome took a breath. She then boldly stuck a hand out towards him. “Let’s work together. We haven’t got much choice. Call it a truce.”

Silence.

Kagome chanced a look at his face.

Sesshoumaru merely stared at the offered hand unblinkingly. Kagome giggled weakly. “A-ah, you shake it. It’s an ‘across the seas’ type of gesture to show we’re sealing a deal.”

Interest livened his animalistic gaze. He briefly seemed considering, perhaps wondering about her origins. Long fingers unfurled from his palm, clasping her hand strongly. The shock of skin to skin contact and sharp claws nearly jerked Kagome enough to rip her hand free. She forced herself to stay still, feeling a surge of something shoot down to her toes.

He was warmer than expected. It surprised her that callouses roughened his palm, likely from years of swordplay. She'd always figured he was too inhumanly perfect to have such a thing. Sesshoumaru blinked slowly, remaining locked in a stare. For a moment, Kagome dumbly admired his pretty white lashes.

She caught herself staring and briskly shook his hand, prying her fingers free before gesturing to several pathways, cheeks red. “S-so which way?”

Mokomoko’s soft fur caressed the bare flesh of her lower thigh in passing as Sesshoumaru stepped towards one. “I have yet to take this path. Stay close, troublesome miko," he threw over one shoulder. "I will not slow down for you.”

“Please don’t. You walk slow enough as it is,” Kagome griped, following.

---

Demons began littering the narrow, claustrophobic spaces within the maze. Kagome had to duck and weave around Sesshoumaru as he killed them with acid or fierce swipes of his claws. It forced them to get up close and personal, occasionally plastering miko and Daiyoukai together.

His scent wafted into her unwilling nose more than once- masculine and sharp, reminding her of thunderstorms. Since she couldn’t use her reiki with much finesse yet and the close quarters put her archery skills at a disadvantage, Kagome tried her best to be helpful.

“Behind you!” she’d yell, ducking under his arm before grasping his sleeve. “On your right!”

Sesshoumaru dispatched enemies without argument or complaint, calmly moving on once they lay dead.

As time dragged on, Kagome’s legs began to ache from the endless walking. Her stomach grumbled near constantly. Her limbs and body were becoming weak.

She didn’t breathe a word about it- though noticed Sesshoumaru’s lingering attention. Turning a corner, she stumbled, an arm catching her around the waist, steadying.

Kagome’s belly fluttered, and she quickly straightened. “Thanks.”

“Hn.”

They book occasional breaks, but respite was near impossible with the continued droves of enemies. After what she could only guess to be at least 17 hours- though it felt like days, they finally arrived at the centre of the maze. Exhausted, Kagome kept a hand buried within mokomoko to keep her upright, leaning against the stability he offered. They’d shed a lot of restraint about touch around hour 9 of their journey.

As first suspected however, there was nothing in the middle of the maze. Just a plain space with a single fountain. They hadn’t come across a single exit either.

Kagome’s knees quivered a little, “d-do you have a plan B?” she rasped, throat dry. What she wouldn’t give for some water.

Sesshoumaru stared grimly ahead, slowly lowering his calm attention to her. If she could hazard a guess, he was likely thinking he could survive. He’d weather the storm of hunger and dehydration much longer than she.

“I suspect the reason Naraku lingers is because he predicted I would kill you,” his velvety voice was completely at odds with his words.

Kagome stiffened, leaning slightly away from the warmth of luxurious furs. “...That would make sense,” the admission slipped out, “he’s a sadistic prick. He’s probably watching us right now, getting his kicks from seeing us struggle.”

Sesshoumaru turned to her, lifting a clawed hand. The sharp points gleamed. They could tear through her supple flesh and bones with ease. Kagome had witnessed it enough times to know.

Rendered completely exhausted though, she had little room left for fear. She stared at him blandly, falling quiet.

He arched a brow, resting those deadly claws against her flushed skin, gradually unfurling to hold her neck. “You will not resist?”

“I’ve never taken you to be the kinda guy who would take the easy way out,” Kagome muttered, raising her chin. “Am I wrong?”

Was it her imagination or did his pupils dilate a touch?

She shivered, feeling the pads of his fingers drag against the nape of her delicate neck, thumb resting at her throat.

“No,” he rumbled softly, gripping tighter and drawing her in closer. “But since we have an audience, miko,” his voice lowered, “let us give him a show.”

Blue eyes widened- seconds before lips crashed to hers. Kagome gasped- and a sinuous tongue took advantage, shoving inside to plunder her mouth. Sensation slammed into her gut. Suddenly she was immediately aware of everything. The warmth of his palm, the dry rub of his callouses along her neck. The goosebumps rising on her flesh. How his tongue skilfully played, twined and slid against her own- and she found herself responding.

His lips were hot and quick across her own, firm and yielding and then parting to meet her tongue with his anew. Kagome’s breath shuddered. Her entire body thrummed. She found herself touching the fine, soft locks of silver hair behind his ear, strands running through her fingers like water. Their mouths broke apart, and Kagome could only give a breathy gasp as he sucked along the bent arch of her throat.

“Behind me, to the left,” he whispered, kissing her flesh bruisingly hard.

“I know,” she panted.

It happened quickly. They moved in sync- Kagome reaching for her bow and nocking her single arrow while Sesshoumaru turned, angling her to fire at the faint ripple in the sky they’d both sensed the second they’d kissed.

While the blazing firework of pure holy energy streaked into the air, the Daiyoukai followed its progress, flying with Kagome in tow. She held on around his shoulders, praying with all her might it would break through.

Her arrow pierced the demonic barrier- shattering the weak spot immediately. Sesshoumaru broke through, leaving the world of red skies and unsolvable mazes behind.

---

Kagome sucked in a gasping, strangled breath, shooting upright.

“Kagome! She’s awake, guys!”

Putting a hand to her head, she looked to her side- only to be greeted with the sight of Sesshoumaru sitting up from the ground, both of them having been sprawled out. Around them, battle raged. Inuyasha was fighting diligently, swiping madly at continuous rounds of regenerating tentacles.

Miroku and Sango seemed to be on guard duty, having been defending their unconscious bodies. Shippo immediately buried his face in Kagome’s arm, holding onto her. “You’ve been asleep for a good hour after you were both hit by that attack! Naraku kept trying to kill you! Ah- I’m so glad you’re safe!”

Kagome comforted him with a few gentle pats upon his head, murmuring softly. The shifting of weight caught her attention, and she watched as Sesshoumaru stood. He sneered softly to himself, “I do not know why you saw fit to protect this one, but I did not need your aid, humans.”

“I told ya!” Inuyasha shouted from somewhere in the distance.

“We couldn’t let you be absorbed by Naraku or he’d be even more formidable,” Sango griped.

“What my friends mean to say is- you’re welcome, Lord Sesshoumaru,” Miroku amiably smoothed over the situation.

Sesshoumaru grunted, securing his swords in place. Then, slowly, his eyes lowered.

Kagome exhaled a shuddering breath. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, cheeks burning with all the voracity of a fever, chest light and heavy all at once. Sesshoumaru’s gaze fell to the subtle parting of her mouth, before looking her in the eye for just one more lingering moment. He then moved out from behind the protection Sango and Miroku offered, racing headfirst into battle.

He just did it to break the spell, that’s all.

He’d kissed her to help flush out a weak spot from their enemy, which had opened from Naraku's shock- having lost brief control of the spell. Thinking about it as anything more than that would be foolish.

Shaking herself, Kagome followed suit. She grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow, pushing down all confused thoughts and sensations that Sesshoumaru’s wicked mouth had elicited- entering the fray alongside her friends.

[godofsexdrugsandrocknroll]

On A Tropical Island

Jaune: Great. Just great. Now I’m lost and all my friends are missing too! I’m too angry to be depressed!

Neo: *Head pops out of the sand, spitting it everywhere*

Jaune: Oh, even better. Now I have company. This can’t possibly get any worse! *Ignores Neo glaring*

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

Jaune: Stop following me! You’re a bad girl!

Neo: *Cocks eyebrow*

Jaune: *Blushes* Not what I meant! I mean you’re evil! And all you’ve done to help so far is poke me with a stick! *Is poked with a stick* Dammit, stop that!

Neo: *Pokes him in the butt instead*

Jaune: OW! That’s not what I meant you menace!

Neo: *Preens at being called a menace*

Jaune: And stop trying to be cute, too!

----------------- 

Neo: *Tapping bare foot*

Jaune: Okay, so maybe my sense of direction isn’t the best. *gets The Look* Alright alright already, jeez. We’re back where we started, your shoes, your jacket and my armor are now forever lost to the wilds and it’s not my fault!

Neo: *Stares*

Jaune: *Shifts guiltily* Okay maybe it is, but if I had a map *Neo crosses her arms, reigniting The Look™ * we’d still probably be lost since the rest of team RNJR banned me from the map after reading it backwards and upside down.

Neo: *Nods firmly, taking the lead*

Jaune: For the fourth time.

Neo: *Turns, gapes in shock, shakes her head and grabs him by the hand*

Jaune: *Offended* Hey, I’m not a child! I won’t get lost!

Neo: *Looks at him through her eyelashes*

Jaune: *Sighs* Okay, fine. But only because getting lost in a weird jungle is way worse than getting lost in the grocery store at 14.

Neo: *Stops, removes belt, ties end around his wrist and grabs the other end*

Jaune: *Starts whining*

----------------- 

Jaune: Dear diary *ignores Neo’s pointing and silent laughter* today is day 17 on the worst island to ever exist. Butthole and I -- OW, SHIT-FUCK-SHIT! I really hate that you sharpened your stick into a spear! Fine, Neo and I finally have a a good system in place for food. We’ve got our firepit, Neo turned my armor we found into a pan, one pot and a skillet, my impeccable home economics have saved our asses and we’ve got a spit for roasting things over the fire!

Neo: *Munches happily on roast rabbit*

Jaune: It’s really working out! Neo’s great at the spotting and tracking, I get to use the spear to hunt and there’s plenty of these really stupid semi-intelligent rabbits that seem to have a language of their own that are really good when you cook ‘em just right. *Pauses* I think they might have stolen my shirt though, I haven’t seen that thing in like four days.

Neo: *Mentally reminds herself to burn the eye candy’s shirt before he finds it*

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

Day 28

Jaune: Ow, stop kicking me! I said I was sorry!

Neo: *Jumps on Jaune, bites his ear*

Jaune: AAAGGHH!!! Dammit Neo, how many times do I have to tell you not to bite me! It’s not my fault that seagull stole your hat! In case you hadn’t noticed, it stole Pyrrha’s sash too!

Neo: *Jumps off him, gestures emphatically*

Jaune: I know, you angry little troll! *Instead of attacking him again, Neo just stares at him sadly* I-I... *sighs* I know. I know. I really wanna kill that thing too. It’s...it’s all I had left of her too. All you had left of Torchwick. But we’re stuck here. We can’t find my friends and this island is huge.

Neo: *Nods unhappily*

Neo: *Jabs him with her stick spear*

Jaune: Yeah, we can kill any seagulls we see. *Neo blinks, considers trying to get her point across but nods*

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

Day 49

Jaune: How do you set everything on fire! I told you we needed just enough to warm ourselves!

Neo: *Lunges at Jaune, leaves fire to burn*

Jaune: *Is strangled*

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

Day 54

Neo: *Admires Jaune’s ass in jorts*

Jaune: I still don’t understand why you had to ruin my jeans. Tossing the boots into that bottomless pit, I get. My feet thank you. Uh, except when I keep stepping on sharp rocks and twigs. But really?

Neo: *Points at him, hand fans herself and panics, shaking her head rapidly*

Jaune: *Oblivious, insulted* Yeah, yeah, I’m sweaty! Fine, fuck having pant legs! I wanna get scratched and bitten by those weird little blue people again!

Neo: *Blinks, shakes her head in exasperation and relief*

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

Day 59

Jaune: I can’t believe you committed genocide because those blue people stole your top! Neo, they just wanted a tent!

Neo: *Glares murderously at Jaune, covering her frilly pink and white bra with her hand and arm*

Jaune: *Gulps* I-I-I-I know! It’s upsetting, but murder isn’t always the answer!

Neo: *Uses free hand and makes bunny ears*

Jaune: Hey, those rabbits might be really stupid but they’re super mean spirited! One tried to drop a rock on my head and don’t you dare say it’d be an improvement!

Neo: *Startled, laughs*

Jaune: *Sheepish, laughs too*

Neo: *Continues laughing, eventually noticing Jaune has stopped and is red in the face, wide eyed*

Neo: *Notices she moved her arm and Jaune is staring at her chest*

Jaune: *Notices Neo’s glare and red face* W-wait, hold on a minute now, I didn’t mean to--

Neo: *Glomps, bites his nipple*

Jaune: *Girlish screams that can be heard for miles*

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

Day 72

Jaune: No, put the berries down. You can’t just keep eating fruit all the time, you’re already very small and need to keep yourself healthy if you don’t wanna lie rotting as a corpse on this island forever.

Neo: *Grabs a huge handful of berries, shoves them in her mouth smugly*

Jaune: Dammit Neo, stop being so bratty! I’m only trying to help! *Grabs Rabbit jerky* Now do your body good, open your mouth and eat my meat!

Neo: *Gags, chokes, spits mushy berries out and kicks Jaune in the solar plexus for the phrasing*

Jaune: *Wheezing* I swear I didn’t mean to OH X-RAY AND VAV, SAVE ME!

Nearby Seagull: *Hearing the abyssal, shrieking screams of the Tall One, flies off in terror and decides to move the family nest*

Neo: *Biting, kicking, punching and pinching*

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

Day 88

Jaune: I can hardly shave Neo, if you don’t remember my sword’s a jagged piece of sharp metal these days!

Neo: *Shows off shaved armpits, shows off shaved legs having long since created shorts from her capris and shows him a wooden knife*

Jaune: I should be concerned that you’ve created another stabby, but somehow -- GASP! *Actually gasps, clutches his beard* No! You wouldn’t!

Neo: *Grins*

Jaune: Please don’t, beloved friend of mine.

Neo: *Touched*

Jaune: What? We are. I mean sure you bite and attack me way more than most normal people do but you did save me from that rabbit mercenary group that tried to use a swinging log to splatter my brains against a tree. You might’ve been a bad guy once, but it’s nearly been three months and you’ve more than proven yourself. And I can’t really not call you a friend when I feel guilty about how I treated you.

Neo: *Smiles, undoes her bra*

Jaune: Wait, WHAT!? *Neo jumps on him and smiling happily, gives his cheek a kiss and starts shaving* WAIT NEO NO, THAT’S NOT FAIR YOU CAN’T USE BOOBIES AS A WEAPON LIKE THA- *Neo shakes her body side to side* -GGRRRGGG! That is so cruel. You’re the worst friend ever. I’m glad you have to sit on my ribs and not my lap because that would be even worse.

Neo: *Continues shaving*

----------------- 

Day 146

Jaune: *Using his semblance* See, what’d I tell you? They get smarter! No way are those little demons gonna fall for the same trap twice.

Neo: *Lets Jaune heal the bloody bite marks from a rabbit, squirms*

Jaune: Stop it, you’re fine. *Kisses healed hand* Booboo be gone!

Neo: *Blushes brightly, stares wide eyed*

----------------- 

Day 179

Neo: *Spinkicks boulder about to crush Jaune*

Jaune: Thanks Neo! *To a small, derpy looking anthropomorphic rabbit* Your wretched plan is foiled you vile creature from the deepest pits of hell! Now do me a favor and get stabbed!

Neo: *Spins away, clutching her beating heart as the sound of a vicious goring occurs*

Jaune: Another day, another dead rabbit! Oh look, there’s more! *Offers the Spear of Ultimate Stick to Neo* You wanna eviscerate the next couple?

Neo: *Wonders what this feeling is*

----------------- 

Day 187

Jaune: *Gaping stupidly at Neo’s perfectly lit fire* W-wha? How!? Two months ago you lit my hair on fire *brushing hand through short, unstyled blondeness* but n-now...

Neo: *Smugly roasting bird meat*

Jaune: *Scoops Neo into a hug, spins the wide eyed mute* I understand how Dad felt when I finally learned to tie my shoes in the 6th grade now! I’m so proud, Neo! OW!

Neo: *Spits Jaune’s shoulder blood out, turns away blushing*

Jaune: Still proud. *Notices Neo blushing, deliberately not looking at him* Uh-oh. *Quietly, to himself* Oh no. I recognize this feeling. Ohhh shit. Okay, what the hell Jaune!? You see her boobs and you feel awkward about your boner for three days, but she looks all cute and embarrassed and that’s what does me in!? What kind of bullshit is this!?

Neo: *Oblivious, cupping her cheeks and cutely twisting back and forth*

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

Day 219

Jaune: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Neo: *Silently screaming at the top of her lungs*

Jaune: OH MY GOD NEO WHY THE FUCK IS HE SO BIG!? *Looks fearfully back at a 12 foot tall, musclebound, derpy looking anthroporphic rabbit sprinting at them with rage in its unthinking eyes*

Neo: *Frantically mimes stabbing*

Jaune: NEO, WHAT THE FUCK, I THINK HE’S TOO SWOLE FOR HUSHABYE!!!

Neo: *Heart flutters at Jaune’s name for their spear*

Giant Rabbit: ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!

Jaune: *Ears ringing*

Neo: *Points at Jaune’s crotch, mimes stabbing*

Jaune: *Pales* THAT’S PROBABLY THE MOST EVIL THOUGHT YOU’VE EVER HAD IN YOUR LIFE! *Neo pouts, mimes it again* I’M JUST SAYING, NOT JUDGING, LET’S DO IT! *Uses semblance*

Neo: *Commits murder most foul*

Jaune: *Whips out the wooden knife* I’M SO SORRY FOR THIS, YOU OVERGROWN FREAK OF NATURE! *Jumps on the screaming body of the mutated rabbit, starts stabbing*

~~5 Minutes Later~~

Jaune: *Covered in blood, wipes forehead* Phew. Killing something this big really takes it out of you.

Neo: *Covered in blood, staring at Jaune wide eyed*

Jaune: Kind of a shame he looks basically human. Save for his stupid head, I guess, because I kinda don’t wanna eat anything that’ll make me feel too cannibally. *Puts hand on chin, blood drips* But I kinda think this is like the Final Boss of those rabbits. Maybe chop his head off and put on a pike like you did with that poor little blue guy that seemed to be the other blue people’s chief? *Nods resolutely* Yeah, gotta establish dominance and fear in those godless little fucks. *Looks at Neo* What do you think, NeeeMMMMPPPHHH!!!

Neo: *Glomps Jaune, shoves her tongue into his mouth*

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

Day 237

Neo: Gakgh gakgh gakgh!

----------------- 

Day 243

Jaune: Oh god, yeah, fuck yeah, you like that don’t you? *Grabs Neo’s hair*

Neo: *Likes that very much*

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

Day 249

Jaune: *Waggles knife* So, uh, aim for the kidneys?

Neo: *Nods emphatically*

Jaune: Huh. I guess I’ll test it out on Cinder. Thanks honey. *Kisses cheek*

Neo: *Swoons*

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

Day 251

Jaune: *Naked, washing grumpy Neo’s hair* I really mean it! I am so sorry. Just, well, uh...okay, you give amazing head and I wasn’t expecting you to go for the balls. Or, uh, the other thing, but well, um *sighs* look, the taint thing was just really unexpected and I’m really sorry I came in your hair! *Blushes*

Neo: *Can’t help but be proud, leans into his hands*

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

Day  268

Jaune: Is there no end to your flexibility!? *Chokes on air* Nope. Guess not.

Neo: *Doing the splits smugly*

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

Day 274

Jaune: And that is why, despite what people say, Immortal Konflict is superior to Road Combatant!

Neo: *Nods seriously*

Jaune: Wanna play when we get back to Remnant, maybe after we kill Salem in her sleep or something?

Neo: *Nods excitedly*

Jaune: You’re the best! *Kisses temple* Ow, why are you hitting me, I thought you liked kisses!?

Neo: *Liking forehead and temple kisses but not wanting to admit it*

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

Day 296

Jaune: *Cumming inside*

Neo: *Toes curl, signing ‘I Love You’ over and over again*

Jaune: *Panting* God I love you too, Neo.

Neo: *Gapes, signs*

Jaune: *Panting decreases* Uh, yeah? My Dad has permanent hearing damage from his Huntsman days. Some chick had a mortar-giant cudgel-battering ram weapon and you can guess about how well that went.

Neo: *Signs more*

Jaune: I-- *realizes* ohhhh. I get it. Uh, I didn’t even think about it. You never signed so I figured you never learned. Ow, my ass!

Neo: *Stops pinching his ass, signs again but slower*

Jaune: *Blushes brightly* Um, yeah. I did. Is that-- *Neo flips him onto his back, kissing him and rocking her hips*

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

Day 338

Jaune: *Contently holding Neo* This really was the last thing I expected to happen. *Neo nods as she leans into him* I...I don’t think I can ever really not miss Pyrrha, or despise Cinder from the bottom of my soul.

Neo: *Signs rapidly that she feels the same way, that she misses Roman*

Jaune: Yeah. I know. *Clears throat* But I think it’s okay. I mean I didn’t expect this to happen, but I’m glad it did. *Snuggling occurs* We’re gonna get out of here. We’re putting Cinder in the dirt. Then we’re gonna do the same to Salem. Then buy a house.

Neo: *Signs*

Jaune: I’ve kinda been a country boy my whole life. It’s up to you *is headbutted* OW! *Neo rubs the back of her aching head, signs, Jaune rubs his chin* Then it’s decided.

*Enjoying each others presence*

----------------- 

Day 362

Weiss: Actually, the amount of slashes in the trees could just mean some new terrible creature of ridiculous origin could have made this area of the forest its stomping grounds.

Blake: *Flatly* As long it’s not the flying piranhas with steel teeth that drip acid, I’m fine.

Ruby: *Shudders* Please don’t remind me! I’m suppressing, Blake! Do you want to ruin fish sticks and mustard for me!?

Blake: *Grimaces* Yes.

Yang: *Ignores the bickering* Not gonna lie Weiss, after that giant crocodile with the crown and the cape and the penguin with the hammer, something a little more normal and horrific sounds just like home. *Adjusts cheetah print bikini, shifts hips under her grass skirt*

Weiss: *Eyebrow twitches* Right. Home. Which you clearly miss. *Eyes Yang’s flawless tan*

Yang: Huh? Well, yeah! Not to devalue the disaster we have waiting for us when we get back but I’m dying for a cheeseburger and a *in singsong* Strawberry Sunrise!

Ruby: *Cutting off Weiss and ignoring a fuming Blake* It could be Jaune though!

Weiss: Yes, possibly, but you have to consider the fact-- *Steps around tree, goes silent at the sounds*

Neo: *In a mating press clutching her feet, biting her lip and then silently moaning*

Jaune: *Going so hard he’s clapping Neo’s cheeks*

Weiss: --that maybe those living, spiny fruits got us again and we’re all on a very bad trip. *Can’t look away but wants to*

Ruby: *Blushes furiously*

Blake: *Covers nose, turns away*

Yang: I really wanna be there for our boy but *ignores Jaune’s cursing, Neo’s nodding and Jaune pushing in deep and creampieing the silently screaming mute* a really big part of me wants to punch him in his stupid face. Really!? Her!?

Blake: *Muffled* You sure you’re not just salty that it’s Neo?

Jaune: *Awkwardly, wide eyed but happy* Oh. Guys. Hey! Hi! *Weiss screeches as Jaune stands, Neo breathes heavily but grins smugly*

Yang: Nope. Not at all. *Clenching fist*

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

Day 363

Yang: Okay. I’m cool with whole... *gestures at Neo and Jaune holding hands*  thing, because honestly I’d have to be a condescending and arrogant bitch to look down on you because of that, but really?

Ruby: Yang has a point, little blue people and psychotic but also really stupid rabbits and their super-duper-strong Daddy Rabbit? And you killed them alllll oh wow. *Staring at something that Jaune pulled from a bag* That’s a weird looking skull. *Whispering* Why does he have a skull!? Oh no, Neo really did corrupt him and not just with that!

Yang: *Gapes, recovers slowly, sarcastically* She is such a good influence on you Jaune.

Jaune: *Grinning* I know, right? I mean imagine if Neo wasn’t here with me! I probably would’ve survived but I would’ve been so depressed that I’d probably be coming back eyeless and with a ton of PTSD! And maybe a quirky catchphrase!

Yang: Because that’s important. *Rolls eyes* Besides, you couldn’t pull off a catchphrase to save your life.

Jaune: *Face goes slack, contorts stupidly in a scream* BWAAAAH!

Team RWBY: *Jerks*

Neo: *Bites Jaune’s pinky*

Jaune: OW-OW-OW! Take a joke, Neo!

Yang: No, yeah, pretty much on the shrimp’s side.

Weiss: I have no idea what that was but never do it again.

Blake: *Forgives Jaune and Neo for their crusade against the rabbits*

Ruby: *Giggling at the derp face Jaune made*

Jaune: Fine, fine, you win. *Pouting* Using their war cry would have been so insulting to their memory though.

Neo: *Smiling, kisses Jaune’s cheek, signs that he’s a big baby*

Weiss: Getting back to the point though, we didn’t think Jaune would be in nearly as good shape as he’s in now. In that regard I feel we owe Neopolitan a good deal of gratitude.

Blake: And like it or not Yang, having her not just be an enemy of Salem but actually on our side?

Yang: Yeah, well--

Ruby: Plus he’s happy! And I think he kind of needs it. *Sadly* We all do. A-and if Neo is what makes him happy, then I think I’m happy too.

Jaune: *Touched* Rubes...

Ruby: It hurts, Jaune. But I can’t imagine...well, I can’t imagine if it were me. So it’ll take time but the best thing I can do here is be happy for you and get us outta here! *Pumps fist*

Neo: *Signs rapidly*

Jaune: *Grins* And make Cinder and Salem unalive! And in the days leading to that, make them wish they were already dead!

Ruby: *Uncomfortable at the bloodlust* Umm...

Yang: Ah fuck it, you speak my language like that and I can’t stay mad at you! Let’s do it! *Slaps Blake’s ass*

Blake: *Yelps, blushes and glares at Yang* Is this really the time for that!?

Weiss: *Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her eyes squeezed shut* Ah, the onset of a pounding headache. Truly the gang is back together again.

----------------- 

Day 365

Jaune: Kinda conveniant that exactly one year after falling into the mythical island of who knows where we find ourselves back in the real world, isn’t it?

Neo: *Hand on her hip, staring at him*

Yang: I’m with the midget. *Grass skirt swishes* Are you really about to complain we’re free of that hellhole?

Weiss: They have a point. After everything we fought there you’d think you would be more appreciative.

Jaune: I am. It just seemmmmpph! *Is kissed by Neo*

Neo: *Happily shuts Jaune up*

Ruby: Alright, let’s do this!

*Action pose except Yang’s tan, in a cheetah fur bikini and a grass skirt, Jaune has a handful of Neo’s ass and Neo is grabbing Jaune by the hair, clearly using tongue and Hushabye is aimed in a slightly red faced Blake’s direction*

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

I got the chance to see the RWBY finale today and rather than be depressed and think about Penny, I decided I’d go ahead and write a Silent Knight fic instead. It’s all over the place but really, that’s to be expected since I went in with no plan. I know people are already bitching over on Reddit about Jaune possibly getting attention, but like with most people who dislike a character I decided to pay them no mind whatsoever.

Because honestly, with Dragonslayer never happening I’d be perfectly fine with Jaune x Neo.

As for this entire thing, I had way more fun with it than I should have and I hope anyone reading it has just as much fun as I did writing it.

Oh. And yes, there were plenty of Rabbids and Smurfs harmed in the creation of this lengthy drabble.

[yikesharringrove]

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

-

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot. 

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation. 

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot. 

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real. 

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side. 

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling. 

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.” 

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline. 

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it. 

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy. 

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door. 

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him. 

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night. 

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up. 

It just felt like a slap in the face. 

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch. 

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head. 

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss. 

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something. 

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage. 

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes. 

Because fuck Billy. 

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker. 

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face. 

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you. 

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back. 

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington. 

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green. 

Come and get sheetfaced. 

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up. 

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit. 

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life. 

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted. 

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her. 

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far. 

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off. 

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again. 

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass. 

-

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again. 

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends. 

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit. 

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children. 

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends. 

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest. 

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali. 

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night. 

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town. 

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time. 

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.  

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him. 

Fucking sunshine. 

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug. 

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket. 

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen. 

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair. 

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd. 

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl. 

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house. 

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. 

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye. 

Not like Steve has. 

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name. 

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one. 

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early. 

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer. 

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion. 

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion. 

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick. 

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside. 

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed. 

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag. 

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky. 

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?” 

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?” 

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips. 

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say. 

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay. 

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit. 

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window. 

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering. 

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire. 

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid. 

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands. 

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light. 

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully. 

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile. 

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

[heliads]

Hometown Memories

Sam Wilson left more behind in Delacroix, Louisiana than just his sister and his family home. Sometimes, memories of the past come more frequently than you’d expect.

masterlist

Sam’s only about half an hour from the harbor when he thinks he sees her.

By all accounts, it shouldn’t make sense. Not every rusted, dented car has to be hers, not every flash of a smile could belong to her. Sam hasn’t seen her in years, and even the memories of them are scarce and far between. Yet with every mile closer to his old home, Sam can’t help but remember. 

The car comes and goes beside him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s already lost in thought.

There had been a girl one street over and four houses down. She was only there half the year, her family always off on work trips and dragging her along. Sam always looked up when he heard the roar of a car’s engine down that road, just in case it was her. Most times it wasn’t, and he’d go back to whatever he was doing before with slightly less fervor, but sometimes it was, and he couldn’t help getting up just to make sure. Just to see if he was right.

She always ran down to the docks when she first arrived back home. You could tell it was her even from a distance, even when her back was turned. She’d jump down onto the wind-washed wooden slats, and pause for a second, letting the sun drown her whole. She’d stand still, and then by some magic she would be able to tell Sam was there and turn around, smiling. 

Back already? He’d ask, and she’d smile. We can only stay away for so long. They were young then, elementary schoolers then teenagers always returning to the water to escape from everything for just a second. Sam chuckles now to think of it. What he wouldn’t give to go back to those days, when the largest troubles seem like nothing now. But, he concedes, he wouldn’t truly be able to go back. You can’t turn back the clock forever, and the past must always stay in the past. That being said, Sam can’t seem to shake the habit of reminiscing.

Y/N L/N was one of many friends Sam made on the docks. She was also the only one like her, in a class entirely by herself. Sam can still picture the smile that flashed onto her face at anything and everything, like any small sunrise or happening was cause for a celebration. In times of worry, Sam sometimes wonders what she’d think of him. Does she know that he’s the Falcon now? Has she put the two together to realize that the broadly grinning boy from the boats is the same man with metal wings and a duty that never seems to stop growing heavier?

To be honest, if she saw him moping over the past she’d probably laugh. She’d cover the smile with her hand a second later, as if trying to force herself to stay serious, but it wouldn’t work for long. Her eyes would dance with the glint of laughter, and then the corners of her mouth would tug up as if they couldn’t stay sober for much longer. He’s seen this exact look before, been witness to the moods that changed like the tides.

Sam can remember one day in vivid history. He’d flopped down onto the beach, and seconds later, a pair of sand-tapped footsteps appeared next to him. She’d sat down, curious, and he’d explained himself. Some worry, some trouble that seemed to swallow the world whole. It seemed major to him, of course, but Y/N could never stay worried for long. You could never catch her with her guard down, her impulses always dancing away from you. 

That’s what made Y/N herself, after all. Never serious for a second. Her parents used to click their tongues and mutter about how she’d be brought down hard by the real world. For some reason, this thought makes the smile die away from Sam’s face. What would she be now? After the Blip, after everything that they’ve been forced to go through, would she have that same carefree smile? The idea of her burdened down by worry, her brow creased as it never had been before, seems so utterly unreal that Sam realizes he doesn’t know what to do if he sees it true. The Y/N of his memories is so different from the Y/N of today that for a second he doesn’t know if he could recognize her at all.

The Y/N from that day would have laughed at him. Of course you’ll recognize me, she would say, I don’t look that different at all. That’s basically what had happened that afternoon, anyway. She’d found a way to spin his troubles into a better light, to give him hope. Then she’d stood up, offering a hand and betting that she could race her sailboat around the coast and make a better time than his boat. She’d been right, but only because she managed to time it so that Sam got stuck behind a group of kayakers that he couldn’t ditch for the world. 

When he’d complained of this, she’d just laughed and said that they hadn’t set any rules about trapping your best friend behind the slowest paddlers on the planet, so she didn’t intend to start now. Sam had considered this for a second, then burst out laughing. You’ll regret that in our next race, I promise. You’ll be so far behind me you’ll need a second boat. Sam can’t remember if his vow held true or not. They’d had countless races, some won and some lost. The outcome rarely mattered, anyways- it was worth it from the second Sam looked across the prow of his boat and saw Y/N, cheeks whipped by the wind and a look of giddy concentration on her face. He’d partaken in a thousand races just to see her smile.

Sam doesn’t know why he’s thinking about her so much. In truth, they hadn’t had that many memories to share. If Y/N was only there half a year, and they were busy most of their days, they didn’t see each other often at all. Yet somehow those few moments were even the better for it, because they were stolen away despite all the work and hubbub of the usual days. 

The signs for Delacroix, Louisiana, are coming up into view now, and Sam turns off onto his exit. Maybe he keeps thinking back to those sunlit days because he’s guilty over how they ended. Sam had left Louisiana for the Air Force, trading out the tide lapping at the beach for heavy artillery fire and too many friends gone. Sam had thought that he’d have more time before being shipped off, but then he’d gotten the call late one night telling him he’d be expected at the base the next day.

So, early that next morning Sam had driven off to the regular crowd of well-wishers. Just before he had ducked into his car, he’d seen Y/N standing at the edge of the group. He’d moved towards her, but she was always one arm away or his path was intercepted by a kindly, too talkative neighbour. Just when he’d reached her, he was being pulled away again lest he arrive late. He had never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

Sam can still see that road before him, see Y/N standing in the edge of his rearview mirror. She’d watched him go for as long as she’d thought he could see her, then turned and walked away. Her steps were sure, her back straight against the chill of the morning air. Sam had stayed in Afghanistan for years, and then spent most of his time in Washington, D.C. after that. The few times he’d visited the Louisiana docks, she was never there or never saw him. That was that, and slowly the memories of the two of them faded from his mind. If he saw her at all, he would have no idea what to say to her.

Sam is saved from conversation by the true reason of his arrival at his hometown. He’s not here to see old friends, or ghosts of his past, he’s here to help his sister Sarah. Sam feels twinges of regret when he sees the new worries creasing her eyes, the new burdens that he should have been there to fix. How do you solve the problems of the years when you were dead? Even the experience of the Avengers can’t help him there. There are two battlefields he must face, Sam realizes, and he’s only replaced one with the other.

Sam’s helping Sarah carry some boxes from the boat to the house. As they walk the faded slats of the docks, though, he can’t help glancing at the turned heads of passing neighbours for any signs of a familiar silhouette. When they cross the roads, he listens for that telltale roar of the engine. Sam does his best to be discreet, but Sarah must be paying attention, because at last she turns to him with a teasing grin.

“You’re looking for her, aren’t you?” Sarah doesn’t have to say a name for Sam to know that she’s talking about Y/N. Who else would he be looking for? Sam nods, eyes still trained on the distance. “I have regrets about how I left. She’s one of them.” Sarah nods, falling silent for a second. “She is here, you know. You were lucky with timing. You’re not the only one who seems to want to spread your wings.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “If that was supposed to be a Falcon pun-” Sarah busies herself with the latch on the door. “I thought it was pretty good. Not that much of a bird-en.” Sam groans. “That was awful. Is this my punishment for not being here as often? I get hit with the bad jokes?” Sarah drops her boxes off in a corner of the room, pointing a finger at him even as she begins to laugh. “That’s not a punishment, that’s a blessing. Keep it in mind.” Sam chuckles in spite of himself. “I’ll do my best.”

As the sun sets on the horizon, Sam finds himself heading back to the family boat. Some part of him is hoping that Sarah will reconsider selling it, that she’ll think of all the family history and be swayed to save it. But Sam knows that the memories aren’t the problem, it’s the bank. You can’t afford to keep the memories of the family boat fresh in your mind if you can’t afford the cost of the boat itself. Sam steps onto the boat, feeling the familiar sway of wood on the water. He stares out at the horizon, at the blue lines of tides and fishing boats returning late at night. Maybe Washington did good things for him, but Sam has a special place in his heart for his hometown.

He stays there a while longer, running his hands over the worn wood paneling and the photos still tacked onto the walls. At last, he relents and leaves, stepping out into the gold drenched sunset of the docks once more. Sam is just turning to step off of the wooden slats when he nearly bumps into someone and turns to check if they’re alright. The apologies die on his tongue when he recognizes the woman. It is Y/N, of course. Sam doesn’t think he could truly step foot back at the bay without seeing her again.

She looks just like the girl from his memories. Her eyes are older now, carry more memories with them. Her parents would be happy, she seems to have learned to scrap by in this contest of a world just like they’d hoped. Yet even with the passage of the years, she still has that glint in her eyes, the one light that could never truly disappear even as she grew up.

She doesn’t have to consider him a moment before a smile curves her lips. “Sam Wilson?” Sam returns her smile, something like relief blossoming in his chest. He hadn’t considered that fear before- maybe it would be worrying if he didn’t recognize her, but something about her not knowing him would be worse. He didn’t think of it before because he was so caught up in the past, but knowing that she knows him is enough to calm a wound he didn’t know was there.

He must have stood there silent for too long, because a slight uncertainty bubbles up behind her eyes. “We used to hang out when we were younger. I’m-” Sam cuts her off. “Y/N L/N. Don’t worry, I couldn’t forget you if I tried. You were always the best with the boats, remember?” Y/N laughs at that, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you’re evidently still the kindest boy to walk these shores. I didn’t know you thought I was the best.”

Sam chuckles. “I didn’t need to say it. Remember when you beat my motorboat in your sailboat?” Y/N smiles too, her eyes glowing as she thinks back to that day. “All because of a trick. I was so proud of myself for trapping you back behind those kayakers. Sometimes I can stand tourists after all.” Sam groans. “It was terrible. I had to explain myself to everybody why I upset so many newbies in boats.”

Y/N’s smiles deepens. “You upset them? It’s not like you mowed them over and left them struggling in your wake.” Sam shudders. “You wouldn’t have known by talking to them.” They stay silent for a moment, reveling in the chance to soak up the old memories, then Y/N speaks once more. “It’s not like you’ve been the worse for the years. You're getting up to some pretty important things, I hear.”

Sam sighs. “It’s certainly an experience. Some days I have to shake my head and wonder how I got into these rooms to speak to these people.” Y/N clicks her tongue. “You know, I’m not entirely surprised. You’ve always had a knack for standing up for people, this is just that at a bigger scale. You and your big heart, always finding a way to look out for more people.”

Sam’s gaze softens. “That’s one way to look at it. Sometimes I worry I do more harm than good.” Y/N places a hand on his arm, the comforting gesture somehow connecting the two of them in a way that words could never manage. “I have a feeling you’ll figure it out. You’ve got a good heart, Sam Wilson, and I’d count on a good heart a thousand times before anything else.”

Sam offers her a hand as they both step off the docks and back onto solid ground. “Will I be seeing you around?” He asks, and Y/N tilts her head. “I don’t know. I never plan on staying long, but I could make an exception.” Sam feels oddly pleased at this. “For an old friend?” Y/N looks back at him, the smile hitting him like a sunray. “For the girl who never got a chance to say goodbye.”

When they go their separate ways and Sam walks back to Sarah’s house, he can’t tell whether or not Y/N feels the same way about him. There will always be more chances to see her again, to remember her little phrases and changes in expression. This is part of going back, of making the commitment to his family and his home and his past. If Sam wasn’t here to see Y/N again, he wouldn’t be here at all. Tomorrow brings with it another day, and Sam has a good feeling that he’ll be waiting for a hometown ghost to take his hand once more.

[yanderecandystore]

How about some yandere!giant headcannons please?

(Yes I took the lazy route when drawing this, and if you see people you don't recognize it's because I decided to put my friends in it-)

(( I also had drawn Mikudayo and Miko because I just thought it was funny to make them considering the time I had mistaken them for each other-))

TW/tags: gender neutral reader // I'm gonna make the giant male because you didn't really say giantess? So I'm assuming it's male/gender neutral pronouns // being treated like a doll/pet // kidnapping // language barrier cause I'm yearning- // very generic giant story // delusional thinking // slight stockholm syndrome

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Don't even ask me, y'all read about eldritch creatures so a giant is literally no big deal- [Yandere!Giant x Reader - Headcanon]:

Oh dear, oh goodie, oh Lord-

Does anyone need a bit of context? Maybe a little storyline to start with? I could just go straight to the good stuff though??

Listen- I could pull out so many mother fucking posts under the category of Yandere Giants- Almost all Eldritch content in my blog involves the height difference of: vewy tol x vewy smol UwU

Anyway- Malos, the giant of our story. I'm going to go very generically since I didn't want to say something that could possibly not be of your taste boo-

Malos is your classic troublemaking giant, the type of which you would hear about in fairy tales created to scare the human folk all around your kingdom. All those stories talked about the world beyond the clouds, the giant's kingdom, living their lives in wealth, very far from the ground below where humans (their "favorite delicacy", allegedly) lived.

The one thing that all those stories shared in common was the violent behavior of the tyrants above, their arrogant and greedy nature mixed with the horrifying sightings of giants who would somehow find their way to get on land, specifically targeting a small town to torment. Many have said to have faced a big beast walking around in the woods, some would claim that they actually fought a giant or two, although there is no way to confirm such bold claims of being true.

Were you a common townsfolk who got themselves too far into the woods? An adventurer finding their way into a town surrounded by mystery? Or were you perhaps a noble who by terrible misfortune, had their carriage be stuck during a heavy storm in the dark of night?

It doesn't really matter which one you choose, considering that what happens next would be inevitable. You get lost at the dead of night, the townsfolk not even being able to comprehend how someone can simply disappear like this. You would wake up at a place you couldn't even begin to recognize, it was a very well decorated room yet none of it felt familiar to you.

Maybe it was because of how fancy and modern it was compared to what you were more accustomed with on land, or maybe it was the simple fact that everything in this room was awfully huge compared to you. It took you quite some time to realize that you were not only on top of a massive bed- But that you were trapped inside a bird cage.

Before you could question whether you were having a hallucination or not, your joyful captor made its way inside the bedroom. With such a blissful expression that makes a chill run down your spine- He was so big, it was obvious your captor would have been a giant considering your current location, yet it still shocked you for some reason.

Much to your dismay, your captor does not speak the same language as you, which made you scream at him to free you and put you back where he found you. You have noticed he wasn't understanding a single word coming out of your mouth the moment you started crying at the giant, begging for mercy in fear of what could be your destiny here.

Yet here you were, just- Being observed by such gentle eyes, concerned of your current state. He could talk and shush your cries all he wanted, but you couldn't understand a single thing he meant, the only certainty in this case being the fact you ain't getting out of here so soon.

Malos isn't evil, even if you can't understand what he says- You can tell he is very gentle with you, maybe because he sees how scared and panicky you are, or because he sees you as a pet- Who knows?

He did give you a lot of signs of seeing you as possibly just a "pocket companion", a pet and a doll, someone he could take care of and take wherever he wanted. You noticed how there was no one else who lived with him, maybe he was that lonely and desperate to find a friend that he took you- Without considering your actual feelings on the action.

You weren't too small compared to him, you were basically the height of his hand- A small doll to him, just for him. Whatever life you used to have could be kissed goodbye at this point, because even if you wish everything could go back to normal, that ain't happening, boo.

Malos loves dressing you up, giving you little trinkets to use, giving you small portions of his own food, hearing you make all those lovely sounds he doesn't understand one bit off yet it is still willing to try and comprehend it. He is a very skilled crafter, you know? He knows how to create small toys that will make wonderful gifts for you, at least in his own mind.

Whatever situation you were in that would have brought you to meet him, he would have thought the same thing regardless of what background you could choose for yourself- In Malos eyes, you were lost in the cold of the night, looking so lonely and in need of someone's attention, which he could relate to since he was also lonely and looking for company.

Malos is quite delusional, he has his moments where he has to face reality as a lonely toy maker who kidnapped a human to be his little companion. In these moments of lucidity, he will look at you as if he was lost, as if he was searching for an answer- A confirmation of his actions.

And looking at your cute small little self, confirms his beliefs. You were lost, he was also lost- Yet you found each other, and that's all that matters for him.

After being faced with so much love and attention, considering how weeks and months have passed since he got you here, it's not hard to imagine you feeling more comfortable in his presence.

His skin is so much warmer than yours, his rough hands hold you with such care- It's hard to not give yourself in to his gentle touches, to his incomprehensible whispers, he has such a smooth voice that is hard to not enjoy listening to it.

You didn't plan this to happen- But on each day that passes by, you start feeling like being taken care off is way better than having to fend for yourself down there with the other humans. His company has been so heartwarming, and it hurts you the times he has to go out and take long periods of time outside his house, probably selling his toys or even buying more food for you two.

It's so unfortunate to think that you, someone who was once a person, was now submitting to him and enjoying being treated like this- You would curse at yourself for being so weak, so desperate for his affection, to the point you enjoy being petted and loved as a doll.

With Malos, you could ignore the voices screaming at you to get yourself out of his house in the clouds, but whenever you were left alone locked inside a doll house he built, you would cry yourself to sleep until you could ignore your conscience telling you how much of a failure you are.

If Malos was somehow aware of this confusing thoughts inside you, he would try his best to calm you down, while also pulling you closer to the confirmation that he is here to help you, to take care of you and that there is no shame in you liking him as well. He already loves you so much, he just needs you to do the same for him.

However, Malos isn't always gentle with you- Not only is he easily excited, but he is also easily angered, very childishly. His outbursts are never on you, but rather on the things around you. You can feel the table under you shake whenever he has his temper tantrums, you can see him taking away some of your items as a form of punishment in case you have been acting up.

He would also give you an ice shoulder for some time if he felt as if you were in need of apologizing (even if he didn't understand your language, he could still see through your mannerisms if you were truly sorry or not). He wouldn't ignore you for long, considering how he is also very touch-starved, which leads into the next point:

Malos loves petting you, and touching you. You're soft and squishy and so charming to hold- How can he not love you to bits??!

He gets very confused sometimes, he isn't sure if he sees you as a small pet-like companion, or as a possible- Well, partner. His adoration towards you will start to twist into actual romantic interest, and I warn you to be careful darling-

The moment he sets his mind into something, it's nearly impossible to change it back.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[thepartyresponsible]

For the wip ask (they all sound very interesting ngl it was hard to pick just one!) LostSteve

lost steve! yeah, so. what if shield defrosted captain america, and he broke out and just...kept running? what if they lost him? what if he ended up hiding out in tony’s tower, away from the fight for long enough to get his feet underneath him?

this fic is mostly about steve and tony finding each other first, so they can form the heart of the avengers, instead of the fault line that splits the team in half. here’s the first part of it.

                                                          —  

There’s an alert from Nick Fury that Tony chooses to ignore, for the sake of his convenience and Fury’s ongoing character growth. JARVIS announces its arrival and then diligently reminds Tony about the message twice before Tony tells him to mute it until morning.

“If it’s really that important,” he says, “they’ll just send someone to break in anyway.”

Which is why, on some level, he’s not at all surprised to find a man sitting on a couch in his penthouse twenty-seven hours later. He will admit to being caught somewhat off-guard by the specifics of the situation, though, because Steve Rogers has been dead for longer than Tony’s been alive.

“Zombie?” Tony asks. “Hallucination? Oh, clone? Are you a clone?”

Steve Rogers looks at him the way people look at wax sculptures. Like he’s interested in the details of the creation in front of him, but doesn’t believe for a second that what he’s looking at is real. “Mr. Stark,” he says, politely. His voice is deeper than Tony would’ve guessed.

“Robot,” Tony theorizes. “Sexbot? Updated Trojan Horse? If I let you inside me, are you gonna--”

The man’s brow furrows, and his mouth twists down, and his eyes are too sad for circuitry. No one would code that kind of grief.

Tony pauses for a moment, rocks forward onto the balls of his feet and then back onto his heels. He studies this intruder carefully. Someone sent him a Steve Rogers lookalike in a white t-shirt and stained khakis. He’s hale and healthy, built like a god, but his feet are bare and dirty.

Bloody, too. There are bloody footprints on the carpet.

“Wait,” Tony says. “Wait. Who the hell are you?”

There’s a long beat of silence. The man on his couch just stares at him, eyes tracing over Tony’s face, his shoulders, looking at him like he’s starving for something. He’s quiet and small, somehow, in a way that doesn’t relate at all to the amount of space his body takes up.

And then he stands, light and graceful on his bloody feet. His jaw tightens, and his shoulders pull up, and he’s an American Hero, suddenly and decisively, like he’s made some kind of choice about it.

“Mr. Stark,” he says, again, “I’m Captain America.”

And he is, Tony thinks. The same way that he’s Iron Man. Because once you put on that kind of armor, whatever else you used to be is irrelevant.

                                                           —

He’s Captain America, and he’s back from the dead. SHIELD had him and lost him, and Nick Fury wants Tony to go looking for him. That’s the message he left with JARVIS over a day ago. And Tony can’t imagine he was the first name on their list, which means Steve Rogers has been alone in the wrong century for an unknown but considerable amount of time.

“Hey,” he says, calling out from where he’s slouched against the kitchen island, watching Captain America dutifully eat through every scrap of leftovers Tony had in the fridge. “How long have you been here?”

“I was born here,” he says, through a mouthful of fried rice that he hides behind a napkin. He chews, swallows, and jabs his fork over Tony’s shoulder. “In Brooklyn.”

Tony knew that. Of course he knew that. He memorized everything about Steve Rogers back when he thought he could become enough like him to make Howard consider him worthwhile. “No, I mean,” he says, waving his hands, “in this century. How long have you been--- Jesus. I dunno. Awake? Aware? Unfrosted flakes?”

Steve blinks at him. He stares for a second and then ducks his head, stirs his fork through the open takeout box in front of him. “Spent a couple days,” he says. “Looking around.”

Looking around. Steve Rogers, unwitting time-traveler, barefoot in New York. What had he been looking for? Why did he come here?

“Why didn’t you get any shoes?” Tony asks, instead of any of the more complicated questions.

Steve tucks his feet under his chair. He washed them half an hour or so back, walking uneasily into the bathroom Tony showed him and then locking the door behind him, like he thought Tony was some kind of pervert who would bodyslam through the door to catch a glimpse of him sudsing up his bare ankles.

“Didn’t have any money,” he says, surprisingly mulish about it.

“You couldn’t smash and grab a pair of Sketchers?” Tony shakes his head. “If you get lockjaw, you’re gonna have to tell Fury you caught it from somewhere else. Fuck’s sake, when was your last tetanus booster? 1943?”

He shrugs. He doesn’t seem concerned. He’s busy eating his way through enough calories to keep your average winter-starved grizzly happy.

It’s hungry work, coming back from the dead. Tony remembers the unholy things he would’ve done for a cheeseburger.

“Didn’t have any money,” he repeats, scraping his fork around the sides of the takeout box, diligent and serious, like it’s the very last scrap of food he’ll ever get.

Tony clears his throat, hip-checks the counter to heave himself to standing. “I’ll get you some cash.”

                                                           —

There’s a weird moment, when Tony gives him the money. It’s just a few hundred dollars. He’s not Tony’s problem, not his project raised from the dead, but he still doesn’t want to give Steve Rogers the means to get himself truly lost in a world he doesn’t know.

Five hundred dollars will get him some food and somewhere to sleep for a few days, but it won’t get him far enough out of SHIELD’s orbit to get himself in trouble.

He looks up when Tony gets close. There’s a well-worn wariness in his eyes. He watches him the way a dog from a bad home might watch him through the bars of the shelter’s kennel. Resigned instead of hopeful, like he knows how this goes, like he knows he can survive it.

“Here,” Tony says. He leaves the money two chairs away from him, within easy grabbing distance. “And I have shoes your size, if you want to borrow them.”

“I don’t need that,” Rogers says, pointing at the money.

Tony lets his mouth tip up sideways, smirks like this is the part of the whole situation he finds truly unbelievable. “You’re going to come into my house,” he says, “uninvited, unannounced, and then you’re going to refuse to accept my hospitality? Rogers, what would your mother think?”

There’s a stall point in Roger’s stare, like watching a bird fly into a window. There’s a moment, right around the word mother, when those blue eyes blank out, and Tony’s just staring into empty space.

“She didn’t,” he says, and it’s fascinating. He’s stitching himself up right here at Tony’s dining table. Tony can practically see it happening, vertebrae stacking up, pulling him taunt like a needle tugging on a thread. “She never liked charity.”

Tony is familiar with pride. He has something of an overabundance himself, although he comes by it honestly. He knows hurt pride hates an audience, so he looks away.

“I imagine she hated the idea of you starving, too,” Tony says. “Probably worked very hard to make sure that didn’t happen. Going to waste all her work now, Rogers? Seems ungrateful.”

He’s half-taunting by the end of it. He’s not sure why. He finds weak points like a magnet finds iron. Sometimes he doesn’t even know what he’s pulling on until after he’s accidentally ripped out someone’s heart. It’s not one of the traits he’s proud of, but, like his pride, he knows where it came from.

Rogers glares at him, but he hooks the next takeout container over anyway.

“I’ll get those shoes,” Tony says. JARVIS has already measured; Rhodey left some boots that should fit.

Steve doesn’t say anything, but, when Tony comes back, the money is gone, and so is he.

                                                           —

Tony doesn’t tell Fury a damn thing. If Fury lost a national icon, that’s his problem. And anyway, Tony’s still not completely convinced that the blonde who materialized in his penthouse was actually Steve Rogers and not some kind of really confused, really well-built homeless man. Or a stripper.

Tony’s never actually met a stripper who showed up in khakis, refused to disrobe, and then ate ten pounds of takeout before silently disappearing, but he’d be willing to pay another five hundred dollars for a repeat performance.

He figures out how the maybe-Steve got into his penthouse. He upgrades the security, but he tells JARVIS to let him in if he ever comes back. He’s not sure what he’s hoping for, but he’s too curious to lock him out.

                                                           —

There’s a bit of nothing that kicks off in New York, some Hammer tech that goes haywire. Tony puts it down like the cheap knockoff that it is, but he gets stuck in debrief with Phil Coulson afterwards, because he’s not quite quick enough to abandon the scene after the fight’s over. In his defense, he was holding a car above a partially-trapped bicyclist, and Coulson caught him before the EMTs could finish disentangling her.

He makes it back to the Tower after an hour of mostly-wasted time. Steve Rogers is sitting at his dining table. Tony bites back the ludicrous urge to “honey, I’m home!” him.

“Hey,” he says instead, as he steps in from the balcony, stripped down to the skintight suit he wears under the armor. He didn’t expect company. “You get something to eat?”

Steve seems somehow offended by the question. “I didn’t break in here and steal anything,” he says.

“Okay,” Tony says, moving past him. “Well, that’s a gold star and an empty stomach for you, Rogers. We’re all very proud.”

“It’s not my food,” Steve tells him. If he had hackles, they’d be raised. Tony wants to pat him on the head, but only because he’s always had a sort of neurotic tendency to see how hard people bite before he decides whether to trust them.

“Yeah, and a twenty-dollar grocery bill is really gonna break me,” Tony says. He takes a smoothie out of the freezer. “You want pizza? I’m gonna order pizza.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment before he shrugs. “I could eat,” he says.

“Great,” Tony says. He has JARVIS order three pizzas, because he wants at least half of one for himself, and Steve Rogers is a human garbage disposal.

Steve takes a shower while they’re waiting. He asks first, which Tony supposes is the polite thing to do, and he takes his backpack with him, like he’s worried Tony’s going to steal his wallet.

“You know,” Tony says, when Steve remerges, wearing another knockout set of some grandpa’s Goodwill khakis and button-down shirt, “you keep showing up like this, and it’s gonna get harder for me to lie to Fury about having no idea where you are.”

Steve flips open a pizza box and carefully selects a slice. His hair is wet and neatly combed back from his face. He’s handsome from a distance but damn near devastating at close range. Tony takes another bite of pizza, hopes it’ll help swallow back the urge to sink a few grand into war bonds.

“Fury’s the guy with the eyepatch?” Steve doesn’t settle into a seat. He takes his pizza and wanders over to the window, stares out at the skyline.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Tony says.

Steve makes a face. Tony can see it, dulled and faded, in the reflection on the glass. “He’s persistent,” he says, slowly. Not like it’s a compliment.

“Yeah,” Tony says, again, “that’s him.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Tony finishes his slice of pizza, eats another one. There’s an ache in his right shoulder from being wrenched around by Hammer’s ridiculous creation, and he should be icing it, but he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve Rogers here.

He’s never liked looking human in front of an audience. His problem has always been that he couldn’t figure out how to stop. At least, not until he built his armor.

Steve comes back when he’s out of pizza. He’s catlike in his wariness, in the way he seems pissed at Tony for daring to exist in his proximity.

“That fight,” he says, apropos of approximately nothing at all. “Earlier.”

“Oh,” Tony says, rising out of his chair and moving toward the bar, giving Steve the room to loom over the pizza like he’s defending his kill. “You see that on the news?”

“Saw it on the street,” Steve says. “Heard the screams.”

Heard the screams and came running. So he’s still in the hero business. Fury will be happy to hear it.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” Steve tells him. He sounds angry about it. At Tony, not the situation. “Where’s your backup?”

“Backup,” Tony repeats. “Cap, c’mon. Read a newspaper. I work alone.”

Steve Rogers looks up from his pizza perusal just long enough to roll his eyes. It should feel like a slap across the face, and maybe it does. However it feels, Tony likes it. Wants more of it. There’s always been something grounding in being dismissed, like Tony’s never known where he stands until someone shows him how he doesn’t measure up.

“Is that supposed to be impressive?” Steve asks. “Men who work alone die alone, Stark. And they’re not very effective when they do.”

Tony knows he’s meant to be offended. He is, probably. But he couldn’t bite back his smile for anything. “I think I liked you better when you called me ‘Mr. Stark.’”

“Seems to me,” Steve says, “you want everyone to call you Iron Man these days.”

“Oh Captain, my Captain,” Tony says, “surely they had that line about glass houses in the ‘40’s?”

Steve frowns at him. “I never asked anyone to call me Captain America.”

“And yet,” Tony says, tipping a bottle of whiskey his direction, “that’s how to introduced yourself to me.”

Steve gives him a look like he thinks Tony’s being deliberately obtuse. “That’s who I am,” he says.

Tony rolls his eyes and flips a tumbler right side up. “But when I start using a stage name,” he says, “suddenly I’m a narcissistic asshole who doesn’t--”

“Do you think,” Steve says, looming up suddenly, shifting gears like something mechanical, going battle-ready with more decisiveness than a faceplate clicking down, “that anybody spent years, spent—I don’t know. Millions of dollars? Do you think anybody did that for Steve Rogers?”

Tony’s caught wrong-footed. He did it again. Drilled until he found the nerve, cut until he broke the skin.

“I think you don’t get one without the other,” Tony says, trying now to soothe. But he’s not very good at it. His instincts don’t run this direction. His whole life, the only things he could ever repair were machines.

Steve shakes his head. He steps away from the pizza. He looks around, eyes zeroing in on his backpack.

“Stay here,” Tony says, sidling out from behind the bar, whiskey now in hand.

Steve straightens up like a cobra, like he’s going to spit venom in Tony’s face. Tony wants to put his mouth on him, which is probably only half because he’s always been hellbent on his own destruction. The other half is that Steve Rogers is beautiful like something made in a lab for aesthetics alone, carefully designed for universal appeal. Tony likes to tell himself he has a taste for the exclusive, but the reality has always been he wants exactly what everyone else does.

“You don’t want SHIELD to find you,” Tony says, “then stay here. Trust me, this is the last place they’d think to look.”

He’s not standing between Steve and the exit. He was careful about that. Whatever SHIELD might think about him, he doesn’t have a death wish. And also, when he’s thinking about it, he’s not usually deliberately an asshole. It’s just that, most of the time, he’s not thinking about it.

“Why should I trust you?” Steve asks.

Tony shrugs. Hell, he has no idea. “Why’d you come here? The first time. When SHIELD lost you, you came here. Why?”

“I went home,” Steve says, argumentative, all squared shoulders and tight jaw. “I went to Brooklyn. But it wasn’t there anymore. None of it was—I couldn’t find…”

He trails off, shakes his head, sharp and agitated, a horse bothered by a fly. It’s hard to look in his eyes. There’s something in them that Tony doesn’t want to see. It’s like watching a statue bleed.

“I heard there was still a Stark in New York,” Steve says. “I read about you. I thought maybe you’d--”

“You thought I’d be like Howard,” Tony finishes for him. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I thought you’d be like me,” Steve says, which doesn’t make any sense at all.

“You,” Tony says. And then, a little helplessly, “What?”

Steve looks away. He shrugs, looks back. “I saw the suit,” he says. “On the news. I saw what it can do. I didn’t think--- things have advanced a lot. I didn’t understand. I thought Howard had…”

Tony squints at him. “You thought Howard did a Rebirth redux and tested it on his kid?”

“I thought a lot of things,” Steve says, snappy. “It was a very confusing couple of days.”

Tony can imagine that it was. “So you thought I was Rebirthed, and you wanted--”

“I didn’t want anything,” Steve says, and there’s that flash of exposed nerve again, that look like a sinkhole in the backs of his eyes. “That’s not the point.”

Tony takes a sip of his whiskey. It settles, warm and sweet, into his stomach.

I didn’t want anything.

I shouldn’t be alive, unless it’s for a reason.

Tony holds the tumbler out. Steve needs the warmth more than he does. “Here,” he says.

Steve takes it, seemingly on reflex. “I can’t get drunk,” he says.

“Well,” Tony says, circling back toward the bar, “not with that attitude.”

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 2 (Nessian AU)

A/N: DO inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse and Swearing

1957 words | Part 1 | Read on AO3

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

Cassian was waiting. And waiting. And waiting. He waited for the day he would forget the woman’s face. He waited for the day he could close his eyes without seeing her blue-grey eyes blazing in anger. He waited for the day he wouldn’t burn his bacon because he was thinking about her.

He had mused, how the face of a stranger was branded into his mind vividly. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered if they’ve known each other before or have seen each other somewhere, anywhere before the day in the mall—even if on photographs or at an event or at another shopping mall. Still, he desperately wanted to forget about her. He wanted to forget that she ever existed. He wanted to forget their encounter in the mall that day. He wanted to forget everything about her, even though deep down, he knew what he wanted was far from forgetting her.

But he couldn’t afford this. He couldn’t afford to think about her at all times. He was getting distracted at work. His part-time job as a martial-arts instructor and as a sommelier was in a precarious position if it went on like this. He nearly tore one of his student’s muscles in his centre and got at least 5 orders wrong at the restaurant he was working at.

On a Saturday noon, Cassian decided the best way to clear his head was to dive into a war book or reread Secrets Of The Sommeliers for probably the millionth time.

* * *

Nesta flinched at the sudden ping of the oven timer. Again. She’d been thinking about him again. This was the fourth time in the whole week when she burned her cheese sandwich and she was getting so tired of this. She urgently needed a way to stop thinking about him. To stop seeing his insufferable grin whenever she closed her eyes. To stop thinking about him at almost all times.

It struck her as odd, the fact they didn’t even know each other’s names but she kept seeing his face as if they’ve known each other before. She gasped. What if they had known each other before? What if they were probably neighbours from Nesta’s old house or classmates or maybe they went to the same college. Nesta shook her head.

But why should she care? No, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care what his name is or if he even has a name. She doesn’t care if she’s had the misfortune of seeing him before or if that was the first she’s seeing him. Or so she kept telling herself. She couldn’t afford to have him occupy her thoughts. She had better things to do. But all these excuses weren't enough to stop her from still thinking about him.

Nesta looked at her clock. It was a Saturday, almost noon. Maybe reading a spicy book or two will help.

* * *

Cassian loved the House of Wind library and bookstore. They had a variety of books in almost any genre. He'll admit though, that some of the librarians here are better left alone. He was lucky he came here often and therefore knew a handful of the merrier librarians. He made a beeline for his favourite section, books related to wine, best books for sommeliers.

On his way to the shelves he had committed to memory, he realised that there was a big poster about their annual Free Premium Membership Fest where 20 fortunate, early birds would get their membership card updated to premium with a number of privileges. Cassian's whole being was elevated. He missed the last fest they held and had been waiting for the next fest. He wondered how he could forget such an important thing. Oh. Right. Of course. A certain lady was occupying his thoughts. He sighed. He forgot about that too.

He was quite disappointed when he reached the counter. The fest started yesterday and the computer stated that there was only one person left till 20. What truly disappointed him was that Clotho wasn't at the counter as she usually was. Maybe she'll be in the—

“If you're done staring at the computer maybe you could deign to move so it can really serve its purpose of being a public property?” Cass froze. He'd know that voice anywhere. This was the voice taunting him at all times. “And if you have coffee in your hands, I'd suggest you turn slowly.”

He smirked. So she knew who she was talking to.

“Well, looks like the damage would be lesser this time since your clothes aren't white,” he observed.

“I figured black would hide stains caused by ogling, clumsy people better than white,” she said. “Now, if you could move, I want to register for the Membership Fest.”

“Register? What do you mean by ‘I want to register for the Membership Fest’?”

“A register, you know,” she teased, “Something like a form where you fill your details if you want to join something?” She smirked at his glare.

“Well,” he said, “if there is a register let me fill it first.”

“Because your ego is bigger?”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he dead-panned. “I came here first.”

“Here as in the counter or the library? Because I’m pretty sure I stepped into this library first.”

Cassian quickly checked the database where the information of all members appeared. He turned back to her with a self-satisfied smirk. “The database shows otherwise, sweetheart.”

She scowled. “I don’t believe you. You might’ve tampered with the information.”

He moved slightly to the side to give her a better view. Her scowled deepened.

She rounded on him. “You,” seethed. “You did—”

“Hello,” a new, shy voice said.

“Hey, Gwyn,” they both said in symphony.

A look of surprise crossed over her features before it faded away. When the woman turned to Gwyn, she wore a huge smile. “Oh, look, she smiles,” he muttered, earning him a glare.

“Is the fest still on?” Cassian asked.

Gwyneth Berdara, one of the joyful librarians here, said, “Unfortunately, not. We just got our 20th member.”

Cassian’s face fell. He noticed the same of the woman too. Gwyn, always the optimistic one, said cheerfully, “Maybe we could reserve one for the both of you next year?”

They both murmured their assent before Gwyn offered her farewell and went back to the staffroom.

The woman turned back to him. “This is all your fault,” she hissed and stalked out of the library, leaving Cassian more confused than ever.

* * *

Nesta went to the library to find solace or at least a semblance of it. Seeing the man there, however, left Nesta more rattled than she would care to admit. Rattled, and angry. Angry at the universe for giving them these unfortunate encounters. Angry at him for following her wherever she went. Angry at herself for feeling such futile emotions. Angry at her body for reacting to him.

She was also upset that she didn’t get a free premium member cr

Nesta was so occupied with her thoughts and emotions that she didn’t realise she was taking the wrong route. She wasn’t familiar with this part of Velaris. She also didn’t realise she was being followed. It was distinct, the sound of hushed breathing, of the soft thuds of footfalls. The footsteps sounded heavier which most probably meant it was a man. She couldn’t really be sure, though. This was a person who was not experienced in stalking but was trying hard enough.

Nesta knew she shouldn’t panic but couldn’t help the bout of fear that crashed through her. Nesta tried to stay calm. She tried to make sure she didn't quicken her pace. She tried, cauldron, she really did. But her fear was slowly overpowering her senses. She felt the urge to run away from her stalker.

But that wouldn’t be wise. Running away from her stalker isn’t a good choice. It wasn’t smart. Who’s to know he wasn’t armed? What if he was faster than her? What if her stalker was faster than her? He might be stronger too. He could over power her and cage her in. She didn’t even know what his motive was.

Then, Nesta made a ridiculously huge, dumb mistake. She turned to an abandoned alley. At least it looked abandoned. She let out a frustrated breath. Running away was at least better than getting stuck in an alley. So much for ‘that wouldn't be wise’. She looked around, trying to get a sense of where she was or if there were any means of escape, however meager it might be.

Suddenly, she was slammed to the alley wall. The rough cold stone was unforgiving and unyielding under her cheek. Her windpipe was closed off and she was struggling to get some air in. She fought to get free but her captor —a man, as she guessed— was too strong. Somehow, his hands felt familiar to her. As if she were long acquainted with this person’s touch.

“What do you want?” she gasped out.

He chuckled, the sound grating through her very bones.

“My little Nesta,” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting the shell of her ear. “Ever the stubborn one.”

That voice. It was one that she couldn’t forget as hard as she tried. Tomas Mandray, her ex-boyfriend, was someone not easily forgotten.

“Tomas,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to be nice. Not now, not after how he treated her. “What the fuck do you want? Let me go.”

“I see you haven’t changed at all.”

“I can say the same of you.”

“Mhm. You broke up with me and then you called the police. Got me stuck behind bars for two fucking months.”

“Good riddance,” she muttered.

He slammed her head against the wall. Hard. Blinding pain shot through her. He yanked her hair so hard she was afraid chunks of it came out. Her head only throbbed harder.

“Manners were never your cup of tea,” he hissed.

“You were not that kind either. You were an empowering, possessive bastard and I don’t regret watching you grovel to the police for freedom for one fucking moment and I won’t ever.”

He growled and slammed her head against the wall again. She cried out and was pretty sure she heard something crack. She felt the metallic tang of blood on her lips, streaming from her nose freely.

“Oh, you will. You’ll regret everything. Every. Single. Thing. For your whole god-damned life. I’ll make sure of it, bitch,” he promised.

He tightened his grip on her hair that sent another wave of agony through her. She caught the glint of something in the fading sunlight. A knife. Of course he had a knife.

He had a knife while she was a mess, kneeling on an alley, completely at the mercy of one of the people who hated her the most. Pathetic. So, so, pathetic. She hated herself for whimpering. She hated herself for being this weak. She hated that she had gotten panicked enough that she turned to an alley, where no one would know.

Here, in this unknown alley, with the person she hated the most, Nesta Archeron was going to die. She was going to die a death as unknown as the place she was in. Maybe even without her sisters knowing. Shit. Her sisters. If only she showed all her love to sweet Elain and brave Feyre, if only she even went to meet her brother-in-laws, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, maybe things would’ve been different. She closed her eyes, fighting the emotion in her throat. I’m sorry Elain, Feyre, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, I’m so, so sorry, was the last thing in her head before she felt acute pain and succumbed to the dragging talons of oblivion.

taglist:

@im-someone-i-guess @shadowsinger07 @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele

[penguinkinggames]

“Cerebos: The Crystal City” Actual Play Part II: Reconstruction

This is the second in a series of posts recounting a session of actual play from Cerebos: the Crystal City, currently crowdfunding on Kickstarter. The first part can be found here:

https://tumblr.penguinking.com/post/646498084013195264

This session was conducted on March 20th, 2021, with Matthew Dorbin as GM, and Amelia Gorman, Ashley Flanagan, Will Mendoza, and Kevin Snow playing. The events of play were recorded by Zach Welhouse.

When last we left our travelers, they’d just reached their first Stop, a city lost to the desert. Its only inhabitants are skeletons with manes and beards made of precious metals. Researchers from Inferno Heavy Industries have a great interest in these conductive skeletons, nevermind the living passengers.

The unresolved Danger from the Events on the train has made this Stop more perilous. The train Danger is reduced to 0, and the Events resolve in a way that makes sense for the story, but their impact increases the Stop Danger.

Stop Actions: Inferno Heavy Industries Outpost #7G

A Stop consists of a single round of Stop actions; each traveler will act once before the train moves on.

The Lady in Blue saunters over to the Inferno Heavy Industries scientists and learns they’re looking into a new phenomenon! When no one’s looking she Seizes an Opportunity to start nicking bone silver and supplying it to the ants. Although this raises tensions between the scientists and the ants, fewer skeletons threaten the passengers.   Initially the Lady in Blue rolls a setback, but she uses the Nick of Time trait attached to her gun to reroll one die. With a partial success, she pulls off the heist of the evening. The Stop Danger lowers to 4, but the lure of her criminal past intensifies. She gains one Momentum on her gun.  

The Lonely Seafarer approaches the danger from a more diplomatic position, badgering the lead ant with Morse questions: “Do they have a qualified Death Ray Engineer? Where did they receive their certification? I’ve never heard of the issuing institute? Try me.”   It’s a partial success. Several ants, unused to the heavy question, drop their cargo and flee. She reduces the Danger to 3, but gains one Momentum on her hat. It turns out she’s a person who is used to ordering people around. Or she’s a person with a very important hat. Either way, she’d better hold on to that hat and the authority it represents!  

Tinderling is a woman of action! While everyone else is resorting to thievery or tricks of rhetoric, she lays into a mob of electric dead with her fists and her bird bone sewing needle.   It’s another partial success. She reduces the Danger to 2, but decides to take Damage as her consequence. The skeletons don’t go down without a fight.  

The Unqualified Robot has never been in a situation like this -- at least as far as it knows! While everyone else is stealing, speaking, or swashbuckling, it rifles through its collection of face plates for an appropriate emotion. Finally, it decides on a bug-eyed expression of alarm. It waves its arms, attempting to communicate the danger posed by the skeletons to the scientists, who are now more concerned with studying the sentient ants.   Failure. The scientists ignore the robot, one of them knocking it to the ground like it’s an inconveniently placed chair. While it’s down, ants seize the opportunity to pilfer some more components. The Unqualified Robot takes its second Damage. It scrambles to recover the most important bits, but reattaches them in an inhuman configuration. Somehow this feels right, like whatever it’s becoming is more correct than what it was.

Despite the Unqualified Robot’s poor efforts, the travelers lowered the Stop’s danger enough for the night to pass uneventfully. The ants wander off with whatever they can carry while the scientists handle the remaining skeletons.

They travelers leave without consequences; however, it wasn’t a relaxing stay and they don’t get a keepsake. If they wanted to leave the worksite with a souvenir, they could have risked spending more Traits to reroll their partial successes or addressed the events plaguing the train before it stopped. Some Stops are naturally more dangerous than others, so luck (and certain Conductor abilities) also impact the outcome.

Some time later, possibly another day, the travelers enjoy lunch in the dining car, paying with Inferno Heavy Industries scrip.

Fourth Round of Train Actions

The Unqualified Robot shares a flashback with Tinderling while Tinderling eats. Tinderling had been admiring its face plates, and it was certain it had seen her rail spike before.   Back in the City by the Sea, the Unqualified Robot was unable to sell the gadgets it had been created to sell. To earn oil money it started scabbing at a factory while Tinderling marched the picket lines outside.   One day Tinderling confronts the Unqualified Robot while it’s pushing a wheelless wheelbarrow full of trash past the picket: “There has to be a better place for people like you. Or robots like you. You have better things to do than sell your soul to this company. If you have a soul? Or sell your labour!”    At this point, the Unqualified Robot only owns smiley face slides. So it smiles. Tinderling hands it a rail spike: “Throw it! Show it who’s boss!” The robot weighs the spike in its hand and uses it to scratch angry eyebrows onto its faceplate. Then it throws the spike through the factory window. In the ensuing riot, the Uncanny Robot is badly injured.   As a result of the shared flashback, Tinderling’s rail spike gains the Rabble Rouser trait. The Unqualified Robot’s expression slides gain Angry Eyebrows.

The travelers are shocked back to the present by a cheerful announcement from the conductor: “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about this. We’re just coming up on the Rail Labyrinth. Seems it’s time for my annual performance review. Worst case, I’m fired and we’re stuck in here forever and die.” The mess of competing tracks from before was nothing compared to the snarl of dead-ends, different gauges, and switchbacks the train enters.The Rail Labyrinth is a Danger 3 Event. The conductor could probably handle it on her own, but it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

The Lonesome Seafarer looks pensively through her broken spyglass to Engage the Event and sketches a few suggestions on a napkin. When it comes down to it, land navigation is like sea navigation, only easier. It’s an Inspired Success, which reduces the Danger to 1. She rushes her chart to the conductor, who’s going at her charts with specialized tools. “What is this?” the conductor asks. “It’s the way out of here!” responds the Seafarer. “Take a right, take a left!  

Tinderling is unconcerned by the Rail Labyrinth. She’s been keeping an eye on the Unqualified Robot, who’s been taking a beating. In a way, she got it into this mess, so she does what she can to repair the damage.   It’s been collecting bits of scrap to enhance its body. She offers her rail spike. It wielded the spike with conviction once; maybe now it can serve a different purpose. The bond of camaraderie is strong like steel.   Tinderling rolls an Ugly Break to give away her touchstone. She gains one Contemplation, but also gains one Momentum to her burnt match. She has to hold on to the fire and anger that set her on this path, or else all her sacrifices will have been for nothing. If she gives that away, someone will probably take it as a symbol of hope, peace, or something altogether too soft. The Unqualified Robot gains a new femur, which means it’s more human, right?  

The Lady in Blue observes the Lonesome Seafarer’s burst of action and authority. She’s like a different person when she’s giving commands! Did the spyglass help her focus? The two travelers catch eyes and the steel labyrinth flashback into one of wind and waves.   The Lonesome Seafarer is adrift without the guidance of Second Mate Scurvy. No one else in the crew will stand up to her in the helpful-but-confrontational way that Scurvy did so well. She grows harsher in her methods, challenging the crew to fight back. None do.   One awful night, she thinks she sees the ghost of Scurvy mouthing guidance. What’s that he’s saying? It’s either “Don’t mind me,” or “Come find me!” “Scurvy, that’s unhelpful!” the Lonesome Seafarer says, worrying she’s talking to a delusion. “Sorry! I’m a ghoo~oost,” Scurvy responds. The Lonesome Seafarer’s spyglass gains the Tunnel Vision trait.

Fifth Round of Train Actions

The Rail Labyrinth isn’t so bad, once everyone gets used to the sudden stops and jerks. Progress slows, so they turn to idle conversation.

Tinderling strikes up a conversation with the Lady in Blue. Something about her shabby finery suggests she may be an ally in the coming revolution. Take that burned handbag, for instance.   The Lady in Blue flashes back to when her bag was burned. She’s sitting in a car outside a bank. Alarms are going off inside and the building is on fire. Isabelle (not her real name) rushes out and tosses a handbag full of money into the car.   “Was fire part of the plan?” the Lady in Blue asks. Fire was not part of the plan. This was supposed to be a simple heist, but she escalated to arson. One of these days she’s going to get somebody killed. The next morning, Isabelle and the cash are gone. Two people died in the heist, turns out!   The empty bag gains the Score to Settle trait.

Two more flashbacks means it’s time for a new Event. Inferno Heavy Industries keeps on piling on the training exercises. The conductor alerts everyone to the newest sights: “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We’re entering an area of particular geological interest. If you look out on either side, you will see the site of the second part of my performance review. We are now entering Cactortle Canyon.”

Cactortles are large, friendly beasts. Trains are a novelty and a chance to scratch their itchy backs, making Cactortle Canyon a Danger 3 event. The Rail Labyrinth is still hanging in there with Danger 1, setting the total Danger at 4.

The Unqualified Robot starts throwing junk from its bag at the cactortles. Only by divesting itself of the signs of its former life can it find new purpose. Even better, it means throwing things at wildlife that are threatening to ram the train. The Robot’s Engage an Event roll is abysmal (1 + 3), so it takes a swig from its flask and uses its Drowning Sorrows trait to upgrade to a partial success (4 +3).   This is a moment of triumph, but also one of somber self-reflection: “I’m most successful when throwing things.” The Robot gains a point of Momentum on its sack of gadgets.  

The Lady in Blue values a clean plan with no complications. She ties a rope around her body and climbs onto the train’s roof. From the raised vantage point, she’s able to see the way out of the Rail Labyrinth. She rolls a success, lowering the Rail Labyrinth’s Danger to 0.   Since the Lonesome Seafarer and the Lady in Blue both contributed to lowering the Rail Labyrinth’s Danger, one of them will receive a keepsake of the event. The GM rolls a die and the Seafarer reflects on her newfound respect for infrastructure engineers. They can be right jerks! The keepsake also provides one rank to her Navigator trait.  

The Lonesome Seafarer and the Lady in Blue are a good team. They guided the train through the Rail Labyrinth with flying colors. It’s almost like being back at sea. Something about their teamwork is familiar.   The pair share a flashback where they decide to set out for Cerebos together. The Lady in Blue may have seen someone who matched Scurvy’s description, while the Lonesome Seafarer has heard tales of the Lady in Red. It’s not so bad, traveling together.   The Lady in Blue’s hat gains the Tying up Loose Ends trait, while the Seafarer’s coat gains Old Friends Not Forgotten.

The Lady in Blue and the Lonesome Seafarer have both experienced three flashbacks. The players talk among themselves to determine which of the two stories they want to see take center stage. After some back and forth, they decide the Lady in Blue’s tale of revenge is the most compelling, so she becomes the story’s Seeker.

The other travelers weigh in on the Lady in Blue’s dilemma. Do they want to be Saints, encouraging her of the righteousness of her quest to bring an end to her sister, or are they Demons, forces of caprice and change?

The Lonesome Seafarer is a Demon: she’s not one to support the killing of a long-lost family member, as she’s been looking for one of those herself, in a manner of speaking. The Unqualified Robot is a Saint. It’s been radicalized by its journey, and violence has been more effective than words in producing optimal results. Tinderling is likewise a Saint. Sometimes people need to make hard decisions to clear ground for a worthwhile future.

From here, the journey embarks upon its final leg: the Lady in Blue has been identified as the story’s protagonist, and the others will act in their capacity as Saints and Demons to shape how her story ends. In the third and final post in this series, we’ll see what end that is!