#today i come back to this task reading a lovely comment by that dude who's responsible for solving the problem going

[tardis--dreams]

Feeling homicidal at work today ♡

[svchengss]

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed. 

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”. 

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started. 

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers. 

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside. 

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting  about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made. 

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited. 

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers��” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out. 

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded. 

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party -  jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home. 

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically. 

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone. 

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it. 

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made. 

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted. 

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets. 

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you. 

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck. 

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence. 

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers. 

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less. 

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy. 

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home. 

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave. 

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him. 

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more. 

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days. 

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated. 

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-” 

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more? 

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands. 

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening. 

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back. 

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air. 

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure. 

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair. 

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him. 

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence. 

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride. 

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

[dothwrites]

Cas using Enochian pick-up lines on oblivious Dean. Dean doesn't get them, Cas feels rejected each time, and Sammy is done with it all! Can I have that fic, pretty please?

ah, this has been sitting here for a WHILE, so i’m sorry that i’m trash 

lost in translation

---

It begins when Dean is pathetically trying to impress his crush. 

Or at least that would be Sam’s take, if Dean cared enough to ask him. 

Dean would rather say that it began with a simple misunderstanding, one which could happen to anyone. 

He doesn’t ask Cas’ opinion of the situation (and Cas would say that’s the whole crux of the problem). 

Whoever has the correct perspective, no one would argue about the beginning of the affair. It starts one afternoon when Dean is contemplating switching Sam’s creamer with buttermilk, just for a break in the monotony. Cas is with him in the library, his customary suit and coat exchanged for a hoodie and a comfortable looking pair of jeans which Dean suspects used to belong to him (there’s something vaguely familiar about that hole in the knee, and it wouldn’t be the first time Cas has pilfered his room for clothing; several of Dean’s shirts have ended up upon the angel’s body. Cas always seems perplexed when Dean calls him on his thievery, plucking at the shirt with faint confusion--Oh this? I found this down in the laundry room a few days ago and thought it looked familiar, do you want it back? And the question is phrased so forlornly that Dean can’t help but allow Cas to steal another article of clothing out from under his very nose.). Cas dresses down these days. And slouches. Right now, his chin is in danger of disappearing into his chest. The sight delights Dean. There for a while, he hadn’t been sure Cas was capable of relaxing.

It’s an overwhelmingly quiet afternoon. It’s nice, because Dean loves to spend time with Cas when there’s no imminent blood or monsters on their horizons, but it’s also boring. Dean sneaks a glance at Cas over the top of his book. Cas seems perfectly content to sit all day reading some godawful thick, leather bound tome. Dean finds himself less than content, but he doesn’t want to leave Cas. He sighs, shifting in his seat as he pretends to read. After a few more minutes, he sighs again, this time with a little more spite in the sound.

(Dean’s about three seconds away from kicking his feet and whining I’m bored, but Cas doesn’t need to know that.) 

Cas mutters under his breath. Dean recognizes the guttural syllables of Enochian, which is Cas’ go-to language for when he’s saying something hateful and he doesn’t want to get called out on it. Tough luck for him, though, because Dean’s heard one of those words enough to parse its meaning. 

“Did you just call me stupid?” he demands, slapping his book down on the arm of the chair. 

Castiel looks at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “You...understood that?” he asks. “You understand Enochian?”

Not in the slightest, is what Dean should say. He understands one word, and that’s only because Cas uses it enough as an insult that it managed to stick in his mind. But something that looks like fondness, and admiration, and other nice adjectives which Dean would like Cas to apply to him, shines at the edges of Cas’ eyes. So he rolls his eyes a little bit (the audacity of Cas! Asking him if he bothered to study something which was not strictly required!) and scoffs, “Uh, kind of hard not to at this point, you know, what with...” He waves his hand at Cas, hoping that the vagueness of the gesture will cover a multitude of sins. 

And really, he should come clean. If the past fifteen years have taught him anything, it’s that nothing good comes from lying to your nearest and dearest. But this is just a little white lie. Like when he was sixteen and he told Brandy Fletcher he could play a rocking drum solo, because he wanted to impress her and there was no way he would ever be called upon to perform such a task. This is just a little fib, made so that Cas doesn’t think he’s a fucking idiot. 

Plus, there’s something which looks horribly similar to gratitude shining in Cas’ eyes. The emotion brims over until those baby blues can hardly contain it, and Cas looks so goddamned happy. Dean’s not a monster. He’s not going to take that away from Cas just so he can come clean with a Gotcha! moment. 

Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean. 

Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish. 

---

After that, things get a little weird. Considering Dean’s general life, that’s saying something. 

Dean catches Cas looking at him more, like Cas is having a one-man staring contest with the side of his face. Cas staring at him is nothing to write home about, but his looks have gained new intensity. It makes Dean’s innards squirm with worry as well as something deeper. He’s not willing to examine that feeling any closer, though it is pleasant. 

As if the soulful looks weren’t bad enough, there’s also the thoughtful slant of Cas’ eyes to worry about. Every time he looks at Dean, he looks like he’s working himself up to something momentous. Since momentous decrees from Cas usually come hand in hand with world-ending events and revelations, Dean thinks he can forgiven for dodging Cas’ presence. 

It does him no good: the bunker, for all its space, is only so large in the end, and Cas was once a heavenly messenger who has the patience of millennia. Add that to the fact that Dean needs to eat at least twice a day, and the game of Cornering Dean becomes a game of cards, in which the deck is stacked firmly in Cas’ favor. 

Dean sneaks into the kitchen sometime between midnight and two am. If Sam caught him, then he would get a talking-to about the most appropriate times to eat, better digestive function, and the ravages of heartburn in a man his age, but it’s not his brother sitting at the table when Dean flicks on the light. 

It’s Cas, who blinks owlishly at him, before his face splits into his brightest smile. 

(Cas’ brightest smile is an awkward, crooked little thing. On a regular human being it would be considered unbecoming. On Cas, it’s a thing of glory.)

“Dean,” Cas greets him. Hearing his voice in that low, rough voice never fails to send a little shiver down his spine, and today is no different. “This is an odd time for a snack.” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, a little lamely. The shock of finding Cas in the kitchen has kind of killed his appetite, but it’s not like he can turn around and leave. “Just, you know, had a craving. Why were you here?” 

Cas looks around the kitchen, his mouth pursed. “I like it here. It’s peaceful.” 

Dean looks at him, waiting for the punchline. “You were sitting in the dark, dude.” 

“Oh. Well, I don’t need lights to see in the dark,” Cas says, as though the knowledge that his best friend has some freaky see in the dark cat eye nonsense going on with him isn’t the weirdest thing Dean’s heard all day. 

“Great.” Dean opens the fridge and pulls out a container at random. He spares one second to hope that Sam got rid of all the moldy food before he samples the contents. “Well, I think I’m going back to my room now.” 

He wants to get out of here, not so much because he doesn’t want to talk to Cas (he has no problem with late-night chats with Cas, it’s just that he would prefer such chats take place in his room, preferably in his bed, preferably while both participants were significantly less dressed), but because Cas is starting to get that look again, like he’s getting ready to drop an atomic bomb’s worth of shit on Dean in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Dean.” Cas stands up. He twists his fingers together before he realizes what he’s doing, and then places them flat against his thighs. He takes a deep breath. Before Dean can stop him, Cas opens his mouth. 

Low, rolling syllables flow through the kitchen, the harsh notations of Enochian softened by Cas’ voice. There’s a question in Cas’ eyes, and Dean would answer it, if he only knew what Cas was asking. 

The kitchen falls into silence. Dean gets the distinct impression that walking away is not the appropriate reaction. If only he knew what the appropriate reaction was. 

He settles for plastering a fake ass smile on his face and loosing a brittle laugh which threatens to shatter the lighting fixtures. The corners of his mouth hurt from the wideness of his smile, but not even the small twinge of pain can take away from the brief flash of hurt in Cas’ eyes. 

“Yeah. You bet.” Dean barely restrains himself from giving Cas a big thumbs up.

Cas’ face, if possible, turns even more disconsolate. Dean’s stomach twists at the sight. 

This would be the correct moment to confess. Cas, I don’t have the faintest idea what you said, but I’d really like it if you could say it again in English, so that I could maybe comment on it. Sorry I’m such a jackass. 

Dean does not confess. He reaches out and claps Cas on the shoulder, almost buckling Cas’ knees under the friendly contact. Dean almost stops, but he continues to his room, trying to erase the memory of Cas’ stricken face. 

---

It gets worse. 

Cas says something in Enochian to him the next morning, a tiny, hopeful smile darting across his face. Dean gives him a weak smile in return and tries not to focus on the longing, almost desperate tone of Cas’ voice. “Ok, Cas,” he says, when it becomes clear Cas is angling for something more than a smile that makes it look like he ate some bad tacos. 

Cas takes him by the wrist. This time the syllables which come out of his mouth are almost frantic. His eyes are wide and imploring, and his voice cracks on the last word. 

The truth, Dean. Tell him the truth. 

“Look, I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says. Confronted by the weight of his failings and his inadequacies, he flees. All the while, he feels Cas’ eyes on his back. 

---

It gets worse. 

Cas continues to mutter Enochian at him, alternating between frustrated, hurt, mocking, and pleading inflections. Each time, Dean looks at him in a mixture of helplessness and shame. 

The last time Cas tries, there’s a faint snap and tingle of grace curling around the room. Dean can taste it in the air, ozone and electricity, before it makes the lamp closest to him spark and pop. “Great, now you’re killing the furniture,” comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. 

Cas recoils as though Dean reached out and slapped him. He says something else in Enochian, his voice small and defeated. He won’t even look at Dean. 

If Dean were a better person, he would come clean. He would apologize to Cas and beg his forgiveness. He would take Cas’ scorn and irritation and lump it in with the rest of the shit that’s gone wrong with his life, and they would move past this. 

Dean’s not a good person. Hell, he’s not even an okay person. He’s a piece of shit who got a hell of a lot luckier than he ever deserved, and Cas is just naive enough not to realize that. 

---

It gets worse. 

Sam walks into the library one afternoon with a dazed look on his face which means he’s just emerged from being caught deep in a book. He runs his hands through his hair and only then seems to realize that Dean and Cas are sitting at opposite ends of the library, deliberately ignoring each other. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut. 

“You guys okay?” he asks, glancing back and forth between them. 

“We’re good,” Dean says shortly, flipping a page of his book with unneeded aggression. 

Sam flicks his eyes towards Castiel. Cas looks over the top of his book, his eyebrows twisted in a scowl. He mutters something most definitely not English under his breath, staring at Dean. 

Sam chokes on nothing. 

“You all right there, Sammy?” Dean glances at Sam, only to see that his brother’s face is bright red. 

“Yeah, I’m great.” 

Castiel says something else in Enochian, sounding more forlorn than angry. Dean didn’t think it was possible for his brother’s eyes to get any wider. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Dean asks. He keeps his eyes on Cas, but the question is meant for both of them. 

“I think you two should really talk,” Sam says, looking back and forth between him and Cas. “I think you’re both missing some information.” 

“What do you mean--” Dean pauses as the obvious answer comes to him. “Hold on. You can understand him?” 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Castiel says, proving that he can speak English just damn fine when he wants to. Then, because Cas is an asshole whose main job is torturing Dean, he mutters something in Enochian. 

Sam snorts. 

If he didn’t know he would later regret it, Dean would put both of them in the ground. 

“Well, if you want someone to talk to you, then knock it off and speak English!” Dean snaps. “I’ve got no idea why you’re babbling on like that and looking like I kicked your puppy when I don’t answer.” 

Cas scowls, the full wrath of Heaven in his eyes. He starts what sounds like it will no doubt be a lengthy tirade (in Enochian of fucking course), before he’s interrupted by Sam. 

“Dean doesn’t understand Enochian, Cas!” he shouts. 

Two pairs of eyes snap to Sam. Dean’s are filled with furious betrayal, Cas’ with frustrated confusion. Sam ignores them both, rolling his own eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, look, I’m sorry to cut in your drama or whatever, and I’m sure that you two could keep this up for another three weeks, but I value my sanity. Dean, nut up and tell Cas you don’t speak Enochian. Cas, stop running into a brick wall and tell him what you want. I mean, good God, it’s like I have to do everything around here myself!” 

Sam’s complaining never ceases as he peruses the shelves for the particular book he’s looking for. Both Dean and Cas are referred to multiple times as idiots, sometimes assholes, and once even idjits. Throughout his litany of abuse, Dean and Castiel refuse to look at each other, though Dean does feel a telltale prickling at the back of his neck several times. Every time he looks at Cas, however, the angel has his eyes firmly fixed on his book. 

Dean wonders if Cas would get more pissed if he told him his book was upside down. 

“You ever think about how much pain and agony you could save me if you two assholes would just talk to each other?” Sam finally snaps. Arms laden with books, he levels a fearsome glare at the both of them. “For homework, neither of you are coming out of this library until you’ve actually talked to each other like rational adults. And if you make any weird noises, I’m going to smother both of you in your sleep.” 

He stalks out of the library, leaving Cas and Dean alone once more. Cas looks up from his book, finally realizing it’s upside-down, while Dean puts down his own book. They stare at each other for a long moment, then speak at once. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t understand Enochian?” “What were you trying to say to me?” 

They stop. Dean swallows, gathers up all of his manly courage, and speaks. 

“So what were you trying to say to me? It must have been pretty exciting to get Sammy clutching his pearls.” 

Cas tilts his head. He considers Dean for a long moment before he crosses the space between them. Cas leans forward, putting his hands on the arms of Dean’s chair. The gesture boxes Dean in, a turn of events which Dean doesn’t struggle against. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t speak Enochian?” 

Pinned beneath Cas’ gaze, Dean squirms uncomfortably. Now that it’s just him and Cas, his deception seems childish. Would it really have been the end of the world if he’d told Cas he was too stupid and selfish to learn his language? It would have just been another disappointment in Cas’ life, but has it been worth these past few days of being at odds with Cas? 

Heat flushes along the bridge of Dean’s nose as he mutters, “I wanted you to think I was smart.” 

Damn super-angelic hearing. Cas doesn’t miss a beat, though his forehead creases. “You wanted...what? Dean, you are smart.” 

He says it so naturally, as though Dean doesn’t struggle over translations or speaking Latin or cross-referencing indexes or any of the thousand other things that seem to come naturally as breathing to Sam and Cas. “Yeah, sure, I’m a regular fucking genius,” Dean mumbles. 

“You’re capable of finding the problem with a faulty engine with a single look. You built your own EMF meter out of a spare Walkman. Despite your efforts to hide it, you’re very well-read, and you have an innate understanding of some fairly complicated mathematics. I’m not sure exactly what humans qualify as intelligent, but I feel as though all of those skills count.” 

Dean knows his whole face is red. Heat prickles along the tips of his ears and down his neck. “Jesus, Cas,” he mutters. Unable to withstand the force of those blue eyes, he darts his glance down towards the floor. “Most people don’t start sweet talking until the third date.” 

“Well, I’m an angel,” Castiel says, smugly, as though that solves every argument (not a bad strategy; that line’s worked for Cas for years. What else can you say after that?). 

“All right, I answered yours, now you answer mine. What were you trying to say to me?”

Amazingly, Cas’ cheeks color. 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean wheedles, when Cas doesn’t immediately answer. “I told you mine.” 

Cas looks off to the side. He actually shuffles his feet before he answers, “It was just a thought. I thought, maybe, we could...Never mind. It was stupid.” He looks back at Dean and rolls his eyes, showing how ridiculous he finds this whole trial. “I guess, roughly translated, it would amount of something like ‘If only he were as decisive as he is pretty, then there would be no problem’.” He forces a weak laugh. “I said it in the heat of the moment. I was frustrated.” 

Dean blinks in astonishment. Only one fact has managed to slip through the tangle of Cas’s words. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Castiel’s blush deepens. “Anyone who has eyes would think that,” he says, a little roughly. 

An automatic flush spreads across Dean’s cheeks, but he’s able to ignore that. He’s much more interested in what else Cas might have been telling him. “And what was something else you said?” 

Cas coughs. “’Your eyes are bright as the sunrise, yet they fail to see what is in front of them’,” he says. If possible, his already rough voice has deepened. 

“Another.” 

Cas doesn’t pretend coyness. “’You had my heart from the first time I saw your soul’,” he says, in a near whisper. 

Dean can’t hold himself back. He snatches Cas’ hoodie in his hands and drags Cas down to his level. Cas lets out a surprised grunt before he gracefully collapses atop Dean. He’s barely managed to balance himself on Dean’s lap before Dean’s lip are on his. 

Despite Dean’s rushed actions, the kiss is sweet and almost chaste. Cas’ lips are warm and chapped and utterly wonderful. At first, they’re stiff, but only for a second. Then Cas relaxes into the kiss, sighing happily as his hand cups Dean’s cheek. Cas’ stubble scratches against his chin. He’s going to bear the marks of Cas’ affection later, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

Cas parts from him, but not far. In fact, he’s close enough to Dean that when whispers a phrase in Enochian, his lips brush against Dean’s. 

A shiver of delight runs down Dean’s spine. Now that he knows the gist of what Cas was trying to say to him, Enochian fills him with illicit glee. “What did that mean?” 

Cas kisses him again, adding a cunning sweep of his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips. “’Of all the stars in the heavens, you shine the brightest’,” he translates, resting his forehead against Dean’s. 

Heat floods through Dean once more. It’s everything he ever dreamed of hearing. It seems impossible that he could have it. There should be a rule against it. Dean Winchester doesn’t get what he wants. 

Except, apparently, Dean Winchester does get what he wants, as evidenced by his lapful of angel murmuring Enochian endearments into his ear. “Hey Cas?” Dean tilts his head to catch Cas’ eye. “When I first saw you, sparks flew. How would you say that in Enochian?” 

Cas thinks for a second before a smile spreads across his face. “I’ll teach you,” he promises, before he pulls Dean’s face towards him once more. 

(Sam’s warning about making weird noises makes a lot more sense now.)

[tepidtrashpile]

covering taeyong’s parts

I am HEATED.

tldr: i don’t usually do stuff like this but i’m highly caffeinated and have nothing better to do so prepare for a (very convoluted and long) rant cause omg im so fucking mad. 

so for those of you who don’t know, nct 2020 had a resonance vlive/concert last night (dec 26/27) and taeyong and jisung were unable to perform due to a back injury (herniated disk) and knee injury respectively.

I’ll mainly be talking about taeyong in this just due to his extrEmely large presence within NCT and also jisung was there to vocally cover his parts.

(also not to take anything away from jisung, however in the sheer amount of screentime and tracks ty is in, him missing is much harder to disguise within a performance with or without vocals) 

in order these are the members that covered ty’s parts in each song (tbh i may be forgetting some, but the point is look at how hard they had to work to even fill ty’s dance position within the concert, the boy is in like 50% of their performed tracks)

nct u - boss - sungchan

nct u - the 7th sense - shotaro 

nct u - light bulb - yangyang

nct 127 - touch - haechan (first part), johnny (iconic ty and mork), yuta (pulls up in the chorus to fill in ty part to the stage right of jh) 

nct u - make a wish - jeno (first part), jaemin (basically rest of the song)

nct 127 - kick it - mark (usually the center parts), jaehyun (first rap), yuta (end dance break), johnny (mark stepped on him rip lol)

nct u - misfit - johnny (start), sungchan (end)

nct 2020 - resonance - jeno / jaemin (?) - dude idk im having trouble keeping up at this point

// I want to make it very clear that NCT would not be where it is without taeyong. I’m not suggesting that he is replaceable in any way, shape or form. however as a person with two parents in the performance industry - and im sure that many of u understand just from general life experience -- the show mUst go on. when you have a presence as large as ty missing, it is undoubtedly going to take a toll on the overall energy and performance but i personally think that the boys fucking killed it -- especially with such a short turnaround from learning that ty would not be performing. (jaemin said that jeno legit had one HOUR to practice the beginning of maw (and by proxy the beginning of resonance) and that amount of talent and skill is unfuckingbelievable) but I digress. 

// there is nothing wrong with being disappointed that taeyong cannot perform. (get well soon ty!) he is an incredible performer and human being. there is nothing wrong with seeing (and understanding) that another member filling ty’s part is going to FEEL different, even if they do a phenomenal job. there is nothing wrong with feeling the difference in energy and performance -- there is obviously ANOTHER PERSON doing the part that we are accustomed to. there is nothing wrong with having a conversation and discourse about the performance. however... there IS something wrong with putting down members and harshly criticizing their performance in a malicious way. constructive criticism is one thing, but a lot (not all but an overwhelming amount) of what I have seen in the comments and the little bit of twitter i have been on has just been bashing members (one in particular) about their performance. 

//

// let me get the easy part out of the way here. jaemin and jeno killed it during maw. yuta’s dance break, mark’s center time, jaehyun covering ty’s rap, and johnny stepping up to get stepped on (hehe i’ll stop now don’t mind me) were all surprisingly refreshing. yangyang covering lightbulb was (imo) one of highlights of the concert. for a rapper who often doesn’t get the recognition that he deserves he did a PHENOMENAL job covering the entirety of ty’s parts in his own way and conveying his emotions. yes, the members weren’t the same as taeyong, however, they added their own twist and their own personalities to it. it is in fact BETTER to do this and be remembered for their own style than attempt to emulate someone else’s performance. it is the sign of a great artist to take something and make it your own. 

// now, onto the two newest members. i will be candid about this. the biggest difference I felt within the performance was when sungchan and shotaro were covering ty’s parts. tbh this is to be expected (?). i’m not trying to put down the boys but the reality is that they debuted 2-3 MONTHS ago? all of the other members covering ty’s parts have had significantly more experience in every aspect of performing. jaemin and jeno may be about the same age as chan and shotaro but they have upwards of 4 years more experience (debuted anyway, and anyone can tell u that practicing vs the real thing can be a very daunting change) than the other two. the other members have performed in front of a live crowd, they have had time to deal with criticism and learn from it. they are just in every way more experienced, and although we expect great things out of all the members, it is simply unrealistic to expect the same level of performance out of members with 2 years less experience than anyone else on the stage. 

aneway...

shotaro covered one of the hardest parts in nct history - taeyong’s 7th sense. in every way - the rap, the technicality of the dance, the sheer charisma ty brings - this was a daunting task. him being a rookie DID show in the performance. this isn’t a bad thing. the tone of his rap did sometimes lack nuance and the level of sophistication that we know taeyong to have. however, i do think shotaro was the right choice for this song. you have to give rookies experience for them to grow, and a concert like this (even without a live crowd) is a great time to do it. (i’ll get into logistics later but bear with me)

the sad reality is that we’re probably not going to have large in person concerts for at least the next year and it will be a long time til travel, concerts, and simply life return to what they were before covid. it will be a very long til the boys get to perform on a stage with the energy of a crowd in the same way they have up til now. 

now sungchan. my poor bb sungchan :(

sungchan covered ty’s part is boss (and a little bit in misfit but johnny covered the first part and its more of a hype rap song than one with designated dance moves and centre parts). the dance (in boss) may not be the most technical but this is an unfORGETTABLE song when it comes to taeyong’s part. the beginning “nct leggo?” *chefs kiss*. from what i’ve seen sungchan is the one receiving  the most criticism (read hate) about his performance. look, i’m not going to argue that out of all the members who filled ty’s part he was the weakest. (im not trying to hate, but imo his performance was the weakest, u can disagree with me). he definitely less comfortable with covering taeyong’s part than anyone else was - including shotaro. i think most of the criticism is coming from the fact that he just looked anxious and unable to throw himself into the choreo and when comparing him to taeyong (who again just -- idk he’s unexplainable) his performance does fall a little flat. imo the rap was okay, his tone is actually somewhat similar to ty. i really think that most of the hate is stemming from the execution of the choreo rather than the rap. HOWEVER... calling him “stiff as a board” and commenting “cap” emojis does absolutely nothing except spread unnecessary hate. sungchans position is NOT as a dancer. he is only listed as a rapper. shotaro, however, is listed as both a dancer and a rapper. not to say that these listings are the end all be all of a member’s position, but because they are so new they are a decent representation of what SM thought their strengths were. we would love our idols to be aces at everything, but they are human and humans have their strengths and weaknesses. compared to taeyong, and also shotaro, sungchan does not have the technical ability nor the confidence while dancing. I’d like to believe that anyone who analyzes their performances and takes an objective view can understand where i am coming from. 

tldr: you are placing unrealistic expectations on a rookie who’s main position is NOT main dancer. you are asking him to fill the shoes of arguably one of the most charismatic and talented rappers, leaders, and centers of 4th gen kpop... as a ROOKIE. his performance is most likely going to show cracks of being relatively new to the stage. its okay to acknowledge that, but don’t be fucking rude when discussing his performance. 

// the amount of posts i’ve seen calling sungchan “untalented” “stiff as a board” just im so fucking over it. yes, his performance had its weaknesses but name-calling and just straight up hate does nothing to help a performer and just ruins everyone’s mental. you can bet your ass that every single one of these boys has worked their ass off, given up unimaginable things, and faced challenges to get where they are today. not to mention that (in particular the case of sungchan and shotaro) these boys are young. the other youngest/newest members have had about 2 years (yangyang, xiaojun, hendery) to become accustomed to the criticism and also hatred that comes with being in the spotlight. sungchan is less than a MONTH older than me. shotaro is just a year older than me. my best friend is legit older than both of these boys. idk your age but think about yourself at their age, or where u think you’ll be at their age. they have accomplished SO much and are so young. they’re 19 and 20 and in an internationally recognized band. we know that a lot of these boys (and idols) do read our comments. i don’t care how much media training you’ve received, how strong your mental is, getting called untalented and being hated on is going to take a toll on your mental. along with that, what is the NEED? to spread hate? to show that “huhu, im such a big deal that all these people are responding to me”. like, legit wtf do u gain from this? 

// when you are a performer you do open yourself up to criticism, it is part of the job. but criticism and hate are two very different things. to get where nct is today, every single member has to be humble enough to accept guidance AND constructive criticism. we all know how much the boys value nctizens opinions and take them into account when performing. when you are a performer like that you also have to criticize your own work. no matter what profession you are in, no matter what you do, you analyze ur own work and attempt to make it better. i can all but assure u that shotaro and sungchan (and all the boys) know their strengths and weaknesses, know when a specific move, performance, or other area of their ability is not up to par (or they just want to improve which is imperative to success in the music industry)

just be a decent human being. put urself in all of the boy’s shoes and think “hmm how would i feel if some stranger on the internet said this about me” before you make hateful statements. 

again, there is nothing wrong with having a discussion and understanding that humans have strengths and weaknesses, but don’t just put someone down because u feel like it.

//

in case you aren’t convinced to be a decent person, have a more logical (?) approach -- not that u should have to shown a dissertation to be a decent human but i digress.

(think about how many other songs the rest of rap line has to perform, logistically, who else are you going have cover the entierty of boss and 7th sense.)

rap line is: taeyong, mark, lucas, hendery, jeno, jaemin, yangyang, shotaro, sungchan, and jisung (?).  

everyone except lucas and hendery (and jisung but bb was injured :( ) covered ty’s part in some aspect. in fact, people not in the friggin rap line helped cover some of ty’s rap (johnny, jaehyun, haechan im looking at you) and other members covered dancing and center parts when they were asked to.

mark is in just as many tracks as ty and was RUNNING around to get to the next song this entire concert. you can legit see his outfit change with jackets and hats. he filled in for ty in kick it (group effort but u get the point) but in 7th sense just to the way that the song works and the dance etc etc, you can’t have mark doing his part as well as ty’s without it falling flat and taking a huge toll on mark. same with boss, marks filling just as big a role as ty and like, legit how do u give this boy mOre lines than he already has. (u can see that sm did a similar thing with jeno and jaemin in the beginning of maw, jeno covers the first part and then jaemin the rest of the song because jaemin can’t leave an open space at the vEry beginning of the song) (10/21 total performances)

lucas isn’t in as many as say mark but he is in boss and make a wish (boss being very hard for him to cover ty’s part, and jeno and jaemin covered maw. if i’m being completely honest i don’t think lucas has the same tone or technical ability to fit into ty’s parts in the songs as much as say - sungchan on a pure technical and tone pov (6/21 total performances)

hendery, similar to lucas isn’t in an absurd amount of tracks but still enough to tire a guy out lol. because of him performing full choreos in other songs it doesn’t make sense for him to learn a completely new choreo while simultaneously having to memorize and practice the others songs. also, in a similar vein of lucas, i just don’t think hendery is the first choice when choosing someone to cover ty’s parts (dont kill me hendery and lucas stans lol) (6/21 total performances)

jeno while jeno isn’t in the sheer number of performances as other members, he does end up covering ty’s starting part in maw (see reasoning for jaemin above). this by proxy means he covers the maw part in resonance. while he does a fantastic job covering the starting part, asking him to learn the entirety of boss or 7th sense would be a fuckton of work. u can legit see him yEEt himself out of camera view after his part - not to mention again that he had an hour to practice lol (6/21 total performances) 7/21 covering

jaemin - first off u can literally see jaemin’s energy fall throughout the final song the boy is so tired by aneyway... it makes total sense for him to cover maw as he already knows the choreo and it take less effort than learning an entirely new song. also, when ur comparing popularity/center time between jeno and jaemin vs. hendery (even lucas sometimes) they simply have more, and when u aRe in the center u have to expend more energy becAuse u are holding the performance together (6/21 performances)

yangyang let me get my yangyang simping out of the way, but this boy is so fucking talented and his rap deserves more praise. lightbulb compared to other songs ty is in, is a more melodic and emotional based song. there is no choreo, therefore the person covering the rap just has to focus on the rap itself rather than the rap AND the choreo. imo this was the best possible choice for someone to cover ty’s part in lightbulb (6/21 total) 7/21 covering ty’s part

shotaro shotaro is only in 4/21 performances. it simply makes sense for the rap line member with the fewest songs to perform to learn a a full choreo. as stated above, 7th sense is the more technically difficult of the songs that required learning and covering a full part. assigning shotaro (the dance line member) to the more challenging choreo is just the easy choice -- especially if ya’ll gonna come for sungchan’s dancing skills, give the damn song to shotaro smh (4/21 performances) 5 when covering 7th sense

sungchan tied with shotaro for the fewest performances (just by nature of being the newest members) in the same way that it makes sense for shotaro to learn a full choreo, it makes sense for sungchan. reasoning for the assigned songs above. (4/21 total performacnes) 5 with boss

// the songs where they didn’t have a designated member cover most/all of taeyong’s parts were in the 127 songs as well as in baby don’t stop (ten and taeyong duet). 127 is the most veteran of the nct subgroups, and is in general just more accustomed to filling in parts (ie winwin - screw u sm lol). they have johnny who trained as a rapper who can fill in, jaehyun, haechan, and yuta have all proven that they can cover rap with more a sing-rap style and mark can take/cover parts when it is logistically possible. 

// in 127′s songs although ty does often take center and many lines, in general 127 is just a more well rounded group. (don’t come for my ass). in the same way that dream has an undeniable chemistry, 127 is the same way. when you work with the same group of people for an extended period of time without many (if any) changes you just build better chemistry. in nct u taeyong takes more of the spotlight just due to his charisma and raw power. think about it. which performance suffered more due to taeyong’s absence: touch / kick it or make a wish / boss / 7th sense. 

also: because 127 is a fixed unit all the boys know the choreo and have consistently performed it at concerts allowing for member to step in where they know they are comfortable without the amount of discussion it might otherwise take in a rotational group

// take a second to think about a certain performance without taeyong in it. it may just be me, but i think 127 fare much better without their leader than any rotational group without taeyong very (firmly ?) bolstering the performance in the center. (taeyong doesn’t hold all these titles for nothing, he is truly another breed)

// in baby don’t stop they didn’t even attempt to cover taeyong’s absence. idk if that was ten putting his foot down and saying that he didn’t want someone covering the part or if it was more of a choice based on marketing and fanservice. baby don’t stop is truly ten and taeyong’s song and idk if even pairing 10 with a dancer with ty’s vocal in the backtrack would have received positive feedback. 

//

if you have somehow made it this far props to you lol. a rant that started because i wanted to defend sungchan has turned into a long analysis of members... whoops.

tldr: just be a decent human being. everyone in nct is human. a talented, multifaceted, human with strengths and weaknesses. being a nctizen doesn’t mean not being proud, disappointed, happy, or any other emotion about the boys. but it does mean treating the boys and other fans with respect. 

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Whoo boy, been a little bit. I can’t really say much besides IRL sucks, so. Back to something that doesn’t suck, which is BNHA. This chapter is dedicated to the good bean Tenya, especially his little smile which forced me to change my pfp on discord because I just couldn’t.

I was kinda planning on doing arc summaries between sections, but honestly, the BNHA wiki already has those, so if you don’t want to go back and read through all the posts I’ve done for the pre-USJ chapters, just head over there and do a skim of the summaries there, I guess?

[No. 12 - Yeah, Just Do Your Best, Iida!]

I just love how his hand gestures are actual effective tools against enemies, I cannot even. Also, a good and friendly reminder that carbonated drinks stall his engines! I have never seen that used in fanfic, whether for crack or whump purposes… a shame.

We head right into the next morning from that battle training, with the kids being held up by the media as they ask about All Might. Izuku is a bundle of nerves as he awkwardly excuses himself to the nurse’s office, Ochako is a darling who describes All Might as super muscly, and Tenya goes into a whole ass speech with a lot of fancy language to explain the honor of being at UA and learning under All Might. 

(Honestly, I find it hard to determine whether this is genuinely earnest or if he’s picked up media warding skills from his parents and older brother. It’s probably genuine, but I just love the idea behind low-key troll master Tenya who learned from the best, aka his older brother.)

Katsuki, unfortunately, is still known as ‘the kid from the sludge incident’, which I mean. I am so fucking baffled at how long the media in this have held onto that 'sludge incident' thing, like, you'd think they'd have moved on to other things by now and don't really think about it much.

It’s the same with the general public (as seen in chapter 3), like, yes, I too would have a fucking complex and anger issues if all anyone thought about in relation to me wasn't my high grades or my skill in combat or anything, but that one time a year ago where I was almost suffocated to death while the people who were supposed to save my life did fucking nothing. I mean, Katsuki has always had a complex, but This Didn't Help.

Moving on, we see the media wondering who the fuck this messy looking dude waving them off is, while Aizawa just. Fucking shoos them like they’re dogs or kids or something. His words seem like a vague attempt at being polite about shooing them, but with the hand gesture, well. Basically comes off more as a chastisement. 

...honestly, this feels so weird that no one knew about it even though the kids who got in got a message from All Might saying he’d be teaching there. The only thing I and the others can assume is that there was an NDA on him teaching until it was announced to the newspapers on the first day of classes. Which would explain why it didn’t hit the news until said day…

Whatever, it’s weird, let’s just move on.

One of the reporters steps forward, asking/demanding a chance to speak to All Might about his sudden shift to teaching, only for the guy behind her to try and call out a warning - just a touch too late, as the sensors over the gate react, causing the daunting hunk of metal serving as a gate to slam closed right in front of her. Gonna guess she’s new to the reporting scene. The guy explains that the UA barrier locks down if someone without a school ID approaches the gate, and that supposedly there are more sensors throughout the campus.

The panel gives us a diagram of the three ‘levels’ of sensors - the gate/wall around the school, the walkway to the school, and the school itself. Which I think correlates to the security levels that come up later, since it’s a ‘level three’ breach, which means the school was broken into. Was it… always that fucking simple and I just totally glossed over that detail until now? orz

While the newsfolk complain about not getting comments from UA, we get to see the back of a ~mysterious figure~ who definitely isn’t the primary antagonist of the entire series. God, you can see his individual neck vertebrae.

Horrifying.

We transition to 1a’s homeroom, with Aizawa going over the battle training as well as their grades / evaluations. Aizawa calls out Katsuki and tells him to grow up and stop wasting his talent, which Katsuki grudgingly accepts. Izuku jolts at being called out next over his broken arm, and accepts the chastisement of learning to control his quirk, because trying isn’t going to cut it. Aizawa does soften the blow, however, by repeating that Izuku has potential, assuming he overcomes that issue.

With that done, Aizawa ‘Plus Extra™’ Shouta gets the whole class tense by drawing out the next class announcement. While I think it’s a translation error, the whole class sweating as they wonder whether it’s another brutal pop quiz is hella funny. (I’m guessing it was meant to be ‘test’ which would reference to the quirk assessment as well as the battle training, but ah well.) The whole class sighs in relief as one as Aizawa finally reveals that their task for the morning is to choose a class president - a normal, school-like thing in comparison to the past two days.

Pretty much the entire class has their hands raised to volunteer for the position, with Katsuki being particularly aggressive about it (as per the norm). Even Izuku has his hand shyly lifted up from the desk, while his narration notes that the position in normal schools entails mundane tasks, but in UA’s hero course means leading the group - a position suited for a top hero in the making.

Tenya calls for them all to quiet down, drawing attention as he goes on to explain how leading people is a task of heavy responsibility, but that ambition is not equal to ability. He is so intense it’s hilarious as he explains how the office demands the trust of its constituents, and that if it’s to be a democracy, then he puts forward the motion that they choose their leader through election.

Seriously this is just so fucking hilarious, I love this boy so much. And I love whoever it is that calls out that this is a classroom, not congress. 

Tsuyu points out that the class hasn’t known each other long enough to build trust, and Kirishima notes that everyone will vote for themselves. Tenya points out that that is precisely the reason that anyone who gets multiple votes will be the best suited for the job. He then checks with Aizawa if this is allowable, which the teacher agrees to so long as it’s quick. And a quick transition, we reveal the winners-

Izuku with three votes, and Momo with two.

Everyone else, it seems, still has one vote, which was their own (as predicted). Izuku is shook. Katsuki is shaking in anger as he demands to know who the hell voted for Deku. Ochako is whistling and looking away, thinking that she’d better not let Katsuki find out.

(Also of note is that Sero is already approaching Katsuki and making a joke here about it being obvious Katsuki wasn’t one of Izuku’s votes, and then seemingly laughing a bit when Katsuki’s temper turns on him?

Hard to say for sure, but it seems Sero is the first of Katsuki’s future friend group to approach him and get away with poking at his temper. Which I feel is something very much overlooked by the fandom in favor of Kirishima for fairly obvious reasons.)

Tenya, meanwhile, is in a funk as he notes he has no votes, and that that is the harsh reality of office. Momo is concerned as she notes that zero votes meant he voted fro someone else, while Sato points out that Tenya was the one to suggest the election, so what did he seriously want? Izuku and Momo go to the front of the class - Izuku a nervous wreck while Momo’s just exasperated with the situation. Aizawa confirms their positions as he gets out of his sleeping bag, and the class talk a bout about the suitability of the chosen pair while Tenya continues to sulk in his seat.

With that, the first half of the chapter is done, so I’ll call it here. I can certainly say I learned a thing or two today, and I hope y’all did as well!

[tardytothepardy]

Fruits Basket - Vol. 20

I want to try to break the book into three main chunks. The last time I did that, it was easier to write about. So uh, the first chunk has to do with Tohru and her feelings about Kyo, and Kagura's reaction, the second chunk is Akito and Ren's past being revealed (it's totally a mess but it's to be expected), and the third chunk is about things unraveling.

Ok cool let's do it. (The picture was at the end of one of the chapters, I just liked it a lot idk) (also tumblr needs to increase the character limit for the alt text, it's only 200 characters, which goes by quick. twitter has like,, 420, which is more manageable)

Tohru came to Kazuma's house to visit Izusu, and Kagura came to confront Tohru about something. What possibly could it be (as if I didn't say so in the beginning)? Kagura was talking about it a bit with Kazuma, and he said he just hopes that Tohru's feelings don't come from a place of pity (which is a mild "oof" point for Kagura, because that's mostly why she loved Kyo), because Kyo has had to deal with people either flat out hating him, or being nice to him out of a sense of pity. Even Kazuma admitted (earlier in the series. I don't remember when but I remember reading it) that part of the reason he took in Kyo as a child was because he was making it up for how he treated his grandfather, the previous Cat. Over time, those feelings fell away, in favor of genuinely caring for Kyo's wellbeing, but Kazuma doesn't seem to be the one who would forget about stuff like that. (Also it turns out that the previous Cat's partner basically stayed with him out of a sense of pity, as well)

It turns out that Izusu and Tohru were talking about the same thing, and Tohru worried if her feelings for Kyo were selfish, because she wanted nothing to take Kyo away from her, not the curse, not the Sohma family, nothing. Kagura then bust into the room, smacked Tohru across the fucking room it seems, and said, "Then fucking tell him that!!" (direct quote, 100%) Izusu yelled at Kagura for hitting Tohru, asking what right she had for doing that, but given Kagura's nature, it doesn't seem completely out of nowhere. She just got pretty emotional in that moment.

For Tohru, it seemed to knock the right screw loose for her, and she thought back to when she was talking about her father to Kyo, and if he said really anything against what she was talking about, she apparently would've just zipped her lips and pretended she hadn't said anything, and moved on, but he didn't. Which is pretty nice of him to do, honestly. Anyway, when she came to again (because she got knocked out from Kagura's emotion-packed slap), Kyo was sitting there, because Kazuma had called him, ("Hey dude so there was a smackdown here and Tohru got knocked out lmao" is how I'm imagining the call. kjdhkfgjh can you imagine Kazuma saying "lmao" I can't) but Kyo didn't ask about the fight (which was a Wise Lesson from Shishou™), another nice thing for him to do, though in my opinion it would be a pretty easy thing to explain.

Ok, so now onto the second chunk, which kinda has some of the stuff in the third chunk later on but whatever. Story flow, it's pristine today.

It starts with some of the,, maids? or something that are in the Sohma house (they never get names so far as I can tell, and I don't really know what to call them, but at one point someone referred to one of them as a maid, I think? Idk.) talking about Ren, and wondering why Akito still let Ren wander around freely like she does. Another said that Akito can only do so much, because apparently there is a crowd of people in the house that are "Ren-followers", and if she had Ren be completely contained within an area, there's a chance that those followers might start some shit, which would be a headache to deal with. One of the maids said that Akito has been sick (or holed up in her room) for too long, and the rest of the Juunishi are doing nothing to help, which does not help with Ren, who spouts out stuff about how the Juunishi doesn't really care about Akito at all. The maids seem to have a particular thing against Ren, because they view her as an unsuitable woman who somehow managed to become partners with Akira, the previous God, I think, but also the father of Akito.

Speaking of Akito, she has a box. That same box that Ren tried to use Izusu to get back. Something about that box has to do with Akira, and it seems important to both Akito and Ren, though honestly at this point Akito is probably just holding onto it out of spite for Ren, I wouldn't be surprised (I, too, am a petty bitch. I understand the mindset). She asked Kureno if he has any idea what is in it, and when he says he doesn't, she simply says, "Father."

Now we jump over to Ren and Shigure, who are also talking about about that elusive box. Apparently Shigure was tasked to get the box, but obviously he didn't succeed. He said (thought? He didn't say it aloud, it was one of those thoughts thing--- anyway) that he didn't really care, he didn't even want to touch that box, much less even look at it, it was no loss to him. Out loud, he says that it would be inappropriate for him to hold it, and Ren agrees, saying that only she can have it, just like how only she could have Akira, when he was alive. Are you already sensing where this is heading? Well, I'll say it anyway.

Flash back to Kureno, he's thinking about Akira, from when he was younger and Akira was still alive. He remembers Akira as very beautiful, in a fleeting way. Akira was sickly, all the time, and sad. Everyone knew that he wouldn't live for very long. But since he was the head of the house, of the family, it was imperative that he find a partner and produce an heir. That person was Ren, who was one of his care-takers. The rest of the staff (or something??) didn't like that she was going to be with Akira, it seemed unsuitable, but she was the only candidate. She was the only person who recognized how lonely he was, is what Akira said as a defense when people objected. And so, they were married. The older members of the family despised it, the younger thought it was the beginning of a new change, a new era. Ren said (because this section is flipping between Kureno and Ren) that it was only them two (haha grammar): Akira and Ren, they were all who mattered. She was everything to Akira. So when she had Akito, well, that muddled things. Because now there was another person that Akira loved: his own fuckin child. That's right. Ren got jealous of her own child because Akira loved his very own daughter. That's,, that's something. Shortly after that, Ren decided that Akito would be raised as a boy. Or maybe it was while she was still pregnant. At any rate, she said it was because it would be unsuitable for the head of the family to be a woman, but we all know the real reason: it's so that Akira wouldn't be loving another girl, even though that other girl was his daughter. Jfc Ren is a handful. From Kureno's memory, it seems like even as a kid, Shigure recognized that.

Back to Shigure and Ren, Shigure says that he feels sorry for Ren, probably thanks to all that upset she has. She says the same, that the Juunishi have had to deal with the abuse that Akito has dealt to them simply because of that "bond", and that there's no way that anyone could honestly love Akito. Shigure also comments that sometimes he thinks that if Akito had been raised as a woman, she'd look exactly like Ren, which instantly pisses Ren off. She just starts screaming about "Who do you have to thank for Akito being born! I'm the reason that (insert angry comment about how she's the only reason why x happened)". I'm kinda glad she isn't in the series much, this is exhausting. I know she's in the book later, and maybe a bit more in the next few, but jeez. It's a lot.

Anyway, let's end the chapter with Momiji having his curse be broken. The end is near (for the Juunishi, not this post lmao).

The second that the curse breaks, Akito knows it (that's probably the bond. I doubt it's some kinda "we'll be friends forever uwu" kinda thing, it's just kinda an awareness of each other, or maybe just God's awareness of everyone) and races towards Momiji, begging him to not leave. Now that the curse is broken, Momiji is confused as to how those thoughts he had prior for Akito were even there, now that he sees Akito clinging onto him, whimpering and panicked. Momiji waves her away, saying that he'll keep it a secret, and that Akito should go rest, wasn't she feeling sick earlier?

We pan over to the school, where Haru is asking Yuki if he's noticed anything off about Momiji. Haru can't place it, but something seems off, maybe not. Kyo ends up running into Momiji walking down a hallway, and asks him about it (he overheard the others talking about it), and Momiji just out and says it: his curse broke. He said he imagines that Tohru would be happier about it if it were Kyo's curse that broke, and that he (Momiji) lost. (I guess he lost in some unspoken one-sided competition of "getting" Tohru, because y'know she's not her own person who is capable of deciding these things for herself or anything)

Later, Momiji goes back to the main Sohma estate, to apologize to Akito for how he acted yesterday, but also to say that he won't be staying there any longer. Akito takes it like a champ, slapping Momiji across the face and insulting him, saying that he's a traitor, he has nowhere else to go, his family either doesn't remember him or hates him, he'll never be happy! and Momiji's just like, "Yeah lol I already feel lonely", that he can't be with the person he loves, and he no longer has that One Thing that previously connected him to most of the other people he's close with, and that there's no going back. He does say though, that it's not Akito's decision or place to say whether Momiji will ever be happy or not, because he might not be happy now, that does not mean that he won't ever be happy in the future. He then asks Akito how long she will stay at the house, thinking that eventually, everyone will come back to her, that no one will be happy without her. What if it's actually her that is most afraid-- Akito isn't down for an analysis, she just tells Momiji to leave.

Let's now go down memory lane, down a nice and happy time, especially for Akito and Ren: Akira's death and it's after effects. Happy times. (apparently i was wrong, the thing i said was the third chunk that wove in nicely with the second was just the second chunk, i think this is the actual third chunk)

Akito is thinking back (on a rainy morning, extra points for setting the mood) on her relationship with her parents. With Akira, it was nice, he always was kind and caring, telling Akito that she is what everyone has been waiting for, and that she thought she was the one Akira loved the most. With Ren, however, she was always cruel, from the start. She always glared at Akito, she was always mean. Akito hates her. We're brought back to the day Akira died, where Ren bursts into the room, asking why she wasn't notified sooner, why Akira had to die alone. One of the attendants said his condition worsened too quickly to call Ren close by, but also that Akira hadn't died alone; he died with Akito by his side. The attendant said that Akira's will had been passed onto Akito, she was now the head of the family. Ren was angered at that, there's no reason for Akito to still be around now! She only tolerated her child being around because Akira liked her, but now that Akira is gone, there is no one to love or care about Akito. Akito said that wasn't true, that all of the Juunishi will love her, because of their bond. (Which is basically what Akira said. He put most of that stuff into her head, and she doubled down on it whenever Ren said anything against it, which might as well be every single time they were around each other)

Back to the present, Kureno comes in the room to talk about something, but Akito interrupts him, saying that she was happy when Yuki was born, as the Rat. It was mostly just something she used to prove Ren wrong, and she used it as long as she could (much to the deterioration of Yuki's mental health). She thought back, over the years, to all the bad things that had happened, how she tried so hard to keep everyone close, and how all of them had, one by one, come to "betray" (cough cough, try to live their own lives, cough cough) her. After Shigure and Yuki left to their present residence, Ren said that they had given up on Akito. When Akito again mentioned their bond (which, really, now that I think about it, has basically been the singular thing straining to keep everything under control. Akito's sole sense of identity was being God, she's never had anything else.), Ren waved it away, then challenged that if any of the Juunishi can go out into the world, experience it in all it's freaky magical ways, and not be taken in by it, and instead return to Akito, then she will have been proved wrong, Akito's claims this whole time will have been correct. If they failed to, however, Ren said that Akito would have to give up the Sohma name. But Akito believed it, she truly believed she was right, that nothing big enough would come between her and the rest of the Juunishi (Tohru has entered the chat). She had to believe it, she just had to. But now, it's evident, between how Haru reacted upon learning about Izusu, Momiji's demeanor after the curse broke, the general way that the rest of the Juunishi float away from Akito, that it isn't true, and with that, she has nothing to hope for.

Upon this realization, Ren bursts into the room, knee-length hair floating around her, eyes crazed, knife in hand, demanding for Akira. Demanding for that box, and whatever contents were inside. In response, Akito fuggin yeeted it at Ren, she didn't give a shit. It flashed back to right before Akira died, and he soothed Akito by saying that, despite dying, he will always be with her. He wanted for Ren to be happy. He wasn't upset that he was dying so soon, he knew that he was just a man who was going to die, but he was happy that he was able to have a child, and to have had that child with Ren, and since that child was special, it was proof that their relationship was a special one. Back to the present, Ren scrambles to the box, tears it open hungrily to find,,, nothing. The box was empty. It'd always been empty, said to have held Akira's soul, but it was mostly just something to help Akito with Akira's passing. Suddenly, Akito grabbed the knife that fell from Ren's hand, poised to stab Ren but then--

Hiro's curse broke. Ren can thank that bond she always scoffed at for saving her life. But hey, now Hiro can hold his baby sister, which is nice. Yay for family moments.

Boo for Akito, because it's just really grinding in that the curse is quickly falling apart, and there's absolutely nothing that she can do about it. Ren taunts Akito, asking if she was trying to kill her. The attendants blow up, one yelling at Ren for making such a scene, taking a knife with her, and another scolds the first for giving Akito that box in the first place, it's stupid! The first attendant said that Akito knew from the start that it was empty, common sense would say that much! (idk man it could've held one last letter from Akira to Akito, a letter wouldn't affect the weight of the box significantly, it's not common sense)

Akito leaves the room, and Kureno follows. Akito says that it was both common sense but also not, that there wasn't anything in the box. She wanted to believe there was a chance that something was in that box, some kind of invisible energy that would help her. But even after opening it, seeing that it was empty, she still held onto it, knowing there wasn't anything. And that was her common sense, that's what she thought. She'd never been given any other way of thinking, of living, so why and how should anyone expect differently? Kureno says that she can start learning now, that that was what he wanted to talk about earlier, that she can't stay here, she'll never be able to move on, to which Akito cuts him off with "Fuggin now, bitch?? You're saying that now?? That doesn't help me! It would have helped in the beginning! But not fucking now!" (which btw is true. i doubt akito was even allowed to go to a public school, that she was schooled within the estate. i really believe that she's never really been outside of the the properties that the Sohma family owns) Then she stabs Kureno, with that knife she's been holding all this time. She reasons with it saying that Kureno's "halfway kindness" has been killing her this whole time, that it can't be fixed by Kureno saying that maybe Akito should go touch some grass. As Akito is running from the scene (more like haggardly stumbling), she continues thinking that it's Kureno's fault, it's not on her, until she remembers what Yuki was saying at the New Year's gathering about blame. It doesn't really fix anything, it just momentarily makes you think that you're not in the wrong. *record scratch* What if it's Akito's fault, then? All of this? What if it's her fault? What if it's the fault of the person who made everyone change? What if it's Tohru's fault?? (dun dun dunnnn)

Meanwhile, back at the other Sohma house (Shigure's house?) Tohru has some confessing to do. Before that though, Kyo has some confessing to do, though not about the same thing. He tells Tohru that he knew her mom before she died, and that he was the reason she died. He tells her that they met when he was really young, and how they had kinda become friends (in that way that people become friends by talking often, but Kyo never told Kyoko his name, because he had some weird thing about having a name so similar). That all fell apart the day that Tohru went missing. He promised that he would find her and rescue her, but after finding that Yuki had done it (the evidence was The Hat), he lashed out, and never talked to Kyoko again. Years later, when he was at the crosswalk, who was beside him but Kyoko, who he recognized instantly. He wasn't sure what to do, whether to say something to her or hold back. He was totally able to grab her arm, get her out of harm's way, but he didn't, he was too scared. (plus yaknow the whole cat thing) He beats himself up about, still to this day. He does the same with his own mom's death. It was his fault that his mom killed herself, she couldn't stand having such a monster as a child. It was too much for her, and she couldn't take any longer. (It wasn't. I won't say that his mom wasn't put under strain for having Kyo, for knowing that he wasn't human, that he turned into a weird monster if his bracelet was taken off, but from what we've seen of his dad, it was probably at least 85-90% his dad's fault. He was too caught up in the politics of the Sohma family, ashamed of the fact that Kyo was the Cat, the worst out of them, that he couldn't even salvage having one of the good freaks to have as a child of his, and he took it all out on his wife and later his son.)

And the book ends on that cheery note. (Why do I say stuff like that why I am I like this)

[frostsinth]

The Secret We Keep - Pt. 2

Part 1 - MasterList

Good morning, my dudes. Have a new part of the new orc story to celebrate me hitting 300 followers. As always, my eternal love for your support. I am grateful to have such wonderful feedback and overwhelming support for my work.

Thank you, and keep being you! Please comment and reblog with your thoughts. I read every single one. Multiple times. It is my sustenance. Feel free to DM or shoot me an ask if there’s something you’d like to see or any questions you have.

I was humming to myself as usual while I swept out the front shop when a huge shadow fell over me. I started, spinning with a tiny gasp. My hand even went to clutch at my breast in surprise. But as soon as I recognized the disheveled looking behemoth before me, my face split into a smile instead.

“Hans!” I exclaimed excitedly.

I beamed up at him as he bowed his shoulders to duck into the little shop through the door I had left propped open. His slate eyes roamed around, as if looking for something. Not much had changed in the week since I had last seen him. The cow haunches had been replaced by goat’s legs, the mackerel by trout. I had some fresh wild pheasant on the fire in the corner, and its juicy aroma filled the air. I leaned the broom against the wall and smacked the dirt off my hands.

“Welcome back! I was hoping I’d see you again!” I told him eagerly. “Hungry?”

He turned his big eyes on me, frowning. When he made no move to come deeper into the shop, I rolled my eyes in amusement. Perhaps he still wasn’t used to such friendly greetings, I decided as I went over and closed the shop door. Then I took up his big hand in both of mine and gave a gentle tug. His eyes dropped down to my hands, which looked like delicate glass compared to his meaty sausages. Of course, my tug had probably hardly even registered to him. If I was being honest, the effort of lifting his hand with both of mine was almost difficult.

But he allowed me to coax him out the back. I dropped his hand as soon as he started moving and turned to lead the way. A pair of deer were smoking today, and a wild turkey. There was a small pig’s head on the chopping block, its meat skewered and its ears put out to leather on the rack. I had left the door to my room open to let in some of the fresh summer air, and nodded to it.

“Go ahead in. I’m sure you’re sick of venison if you’ve been traveling. How about turkey?” I suggested. “The pig still has a few hours. I’ve got some salmon if you’d prefer.”

He didn’t go immediately to the house nor answer me. I saw his eyes considering the broken gate and the still empty stables. They drifted up to the makeshift skylight, then the crooked door and bent and beaten skewers. A frown tugged his lips in a deep, downward pitch. I hummed a few more lines of my previous song patiently as he looked about, dipping a smaller bucket in the barrel of water by the gate to bring in with us.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” I told him as I hoisted the bucket over my shoulder, “Not long after you left. Erlif and his men were found hogtied and bloody in the old prison. Nobody knows how they got there!” I laughed. “I heard they were shipped off to Osfar. They have a bounty on their head there.” 

I waited by the door of the house, but he didn’t seem inclined to follow yet. I saw his eyes considering the meat on the skewers, and I thought I saw his tongue dart out to lick his lips. I felt a little ashamed of the wild meat on the coals. A good butcher would have only cooked and sold domestic grown meat. Raised themselves, if possible. While I was reduced to taking anything I could bargain for.

“You don’t say.” He grumbled in his deep, quiet voice.

“Good riddance, in my opinion.” I replied distractedly, looking a little forlornly at the meat on the skewers. “Sorry about the slim pickings today. Can’t afford to pay the farmers for their stock if I don’t have enough people buying the meat. And if I don’t have enough meat to sell, I won’t be able to buy the stock.” I shrugged. “Endless little circle. Luckily the hunters will sell their game cheap,” I tried to sound cheery at that, but wasn’t sure I managed, “Though I can’t ask for as much as I could for beef and pork.”

Hans scowled at me, and he drummed his big fingers on his ax head. His slate eyes looked me up and down again, and I raised an eyebrow curiously. I had a feeling I knew what he was thinking. I sighed quietly, brushing one hand through my hair. I ducked into the house, placing the bucket of water by the door and going over to the barrel nearest the stove. After digging around inside for a moment, I brought my findings back outside.

The orc seemed surprised to see the little coin purse held out to him in my tiny hand. His slate blue eyes shot back up to me, and a fresh scowl settled on his face.

“It’s all there.” I assured him, shifting my weight to my other foot.

He rubbed one rough hand at his scruffy beard. “It was payment for your services.”

I scoffed, leaning back and smiling. “What service? A little kindness to a stranger who helped me out?” I shook my head. “I manage well enough to do that.”

A growl formed in this throat, rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. He slowly reached out and wrapped his huge hand around the pouch. My skin tingled where his fingertips brushed against mine. His brow was knotted, and his lips still set into a deep frown. I considered that for a moment, then smiled.

“It’s nice of you to worry, but I assure you. I’m fine.” I said, then rested my hands back on my hips. “So, are you hungry or not?”

The orc grumbled unintelligibly. The way he looked around my yard, I had a feeling he didn’t quite believe me when I said I was fine. He chewed at his lip thoughtfully, staring at me. I met his gaze, unabashed, and smiled. He grunted, then shook his big head. He tucked the pouch back into his belt slowly.

“Well, I would offer you a drink, but all I have left is water.”

I turned to go into the house, gesturing for him to follow me. Perhaps I could offer him some bread, though I only had a little left. But I paused in the doorway when I realized he wasn’t following. Instead, he turned, making his way over to the gate on the back wall. I followed him after a moment.

“What are you doing?” I asked curiously.

Before I could say more, he wrapped one huge hand around the top and bottom of the old broken gate. With one tug, the large gate shattered, ripping off its hinges. I was so surprised my hands went to my mouth. The big orc brought the pieces over to the wall, leaning it against it. Then he considered the scrap wood there before selecting a piece and a few nails.

I bustled over quickly as soon as I realized his intent, holding up my hands. 

“You don’t have to do that!” I protested.

He gave a loud, almost startling snort. “I’m not asking.” He growled.

He considered the tiny hammer by the pile, then kicked it aside with a grumble and pulled out his ax, spinning it deftly in his hand. I continued to protest, even going so far as to place my hand on his huge bicep. He froze under my touch, and my words died in my mouth. I looked up at him, meeting his stormy blue eyes. We stayed like that, perhaps for a moment too long. Then I yanked my hand back, taking a little shy step away. I felt a little heat in my cheeks, though I wasn’t sure why. I swallowed a few times, smiling stupidly, flustered.

“W-well, then you’ll have to let me feed you. If you insist on fixing my gate.”

His responding grunt sounded affirmative. Satisfied he wasn’t going to fuss about it, I went back to the house. I adjusted the fresh flowers in the pitcher, trying to sort my thoughts and looking around as I thought about what I could offer him. Then I went over to where I had some dough rising, readying it to put in the oven. I stoked the coals until the little clay stove was back to baking temperature and slid the dough in. Smacking my hands together to get off the excess flour, I pulled out a pair of hollow horns and dipped them into the cool water. I took a sip myself, and brought the other outside to the big orc, placing it on a stump near him. It was a very hot day, after all.

Hans had already neatly trimmed and hammered two slats into place. Even as he worked I felt his eyes on me while I moved about the yard. I went over to the pits, seasoning the meat with some gravy and vinegar as well as dried herbs. Then I took up a hanging cloth and wiped down a few dishes by the water barrel, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. He was still watching. I couldn’t help a small, amused smile on my lips as I stacked the wooden plates before taking them inside to place on the small shelf by the larder. 

It was only late afternoon; starting anything now would have it dried out and chewy by the time he finished the gate. I would just have to preoccupy myself with something else in the meantime. But I felt guilty letting him work alone in the heat.

So I gathered up my basket of herbs and carried it out on my head to the little yard. I dragged another stump over to the doorway of the shop and set the basket by my feet as I sat down. I would be able to hear if any last minute customers stopped by that way. I took up a few and began braiding them together. My small hands worked nimbly at the familiar task. It was mostly mindless, and allowed me to watch the big orc work.

“Do you have business in the area again?” I asked him conversationally.

He gave another positive sounding grunt, and I smiled, looking down at the forming garland of wild garlic in my lap. What a mystery he was! But I decided, looking at how efficiently he was repairing the gate with just his ax and a pile of scrap wood, my original assessment had been right. He was a laborer of some kind. I berated myself quietly for forgetting about an orc’s sense of pride. Of course he would insist on some sort of payment for the food I had given him last time. Orcs rarely took handouts. I snuck a look at him under my lashes, hiding another smile. Same as me.

“I wish I had more to offer you than water,” I mused aloud, interrupting the soft song I had been humming absentmindedly to myself. “And would you rather the pig or some goat for dinner?”

Hans straightened, reaching up one hand to wipe the back of it over his sweaty forehead. He snatched up the horn of water, guzzling it down. I watched his gullet move as he swallowed, and found my chest tingling at the sight. I blinked a few times to clear my head as he replaced the horn and reached for his belt again.

“Here.” He grunted, holding out a gold coin. I started to protest, but his growl silenced me. “Get a bottle of wine… or whatever you womenfolk like.”

At first, I was torn. My own pride would not allow me to take the offered coin; but my desire to be a good hostess reasoned that a bottle of gin would go quite well with the goat. I sighed, relenting to my latter argument. I replaced the half finished garland in the basket and held out my hands. He delicately placed the coin in my palm. Again, our skin brushed, and I felt my heart skip a beat. Swallowing, I stood, skittering over to the house. I hooked the bucket of water over my arm and brought it out, resting it in the shade before refilling his drinking horn.

“I won’t be long.” I promised, untying the straps of my apron hesitantly.

I glanced at him, then at the gate. I was unlikely to have any customers come knocking, but it still felt a little strange leaving him there in the yard all alone. Still, I knew the distillers shop just around the corner wouldn’t be busy. I could be there and back pretty quickly. I draped the apron over the stump, lingering.

He gave another hearty grunt, picking his ax back up. “Go. I’ll keep working.”

A little over half an hour later, I was back, the biggest bottle of mulberry gin they had on hand under my arm. It’d still cost less than the whole gold piece, and I carefully patted the silver coins in my pocket lightly. In my other hand was a fresh bundle of the wildflowers I had seen growing at the corner of the road that led out of town. I hadn’t been able to resist stopping to pick them. I brought them up to my nose to smell as I went to the back wall of the shop.

I nearly dropped both as I came round the corner. The sun was beginning to set, and dusty orange rays splashed across the yard. The air almost hummed with the heat of the day slowly starting to rise up from the ground as the air cooled. But it was the sight of Hans that had me frozen in place like a startled doe.

He was lifting a final slat of wood into place, and the sweat that trickled over his skin caught the orange sunlight making his dark green skin seem to glow. And there was quite a lot of skin to look at. The big orc had discarded his armor and his tunic and was now stripped bare down to his hips. Each movement had his muscles coiling and rippling with raw power. I swore he was less a man and instead simply one giant  corded muscle as he reached for his ax and rotated it in one meaty hand to use the back of its head to hammer the final nails in place. Unlike those on his arms and shoulders, his muscles on his chest and abdomen were not defined. His was not the body made for show; they were the muscles made for work. Thick and tough, they did not jiggle or sag when he relaxed them, but they were more uniformed in shape and not distinct as individual muscles. Rather an entire torso designed to get the job done. And certainly, he was getting the job done; the gate was almost finished. Like watching a snake move through the grass, I found myself transfixed, unable to move.

It took him taking a step back and placing his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork for me to come back to my senses. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time to recover, for the big orc turned, as if sensing my eyes on him. I quickly fumbled a sheepish grin, blinking rapidly and letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“I hope you like mulberry gin,” I told him breathlessly, finding my feet well enough to close the remaining gap between us, “I thought it would pair very well with the goat-”

A soft ‘eep!’ escaped my lips as my foot caught on an errant board. I tumbled forward, arms going wide. My hands scrambled for the bottle, dropping the flowers in favor of saving the glass. I braced myself for impact, clutching the bottle to me and squeezing my eyes shut.

It came as a surprise when I didn’t suddenly feel the wind knocked from my lungs. Or the sting of the ground against my shoulder. In fact, I actually almost felt weightless, and a soft tingle of air hit the back of my neck as my hair lifted from it. A deeply rich smell filled my nose, and there was something firm but gentle at my back.

I cracked open an eye, and found it met by dark stormy blues. Slowly, I opened the other, feeling my breath hitch and my heart race beneath my skin.

I was delicately cradled in Hans’ arms, with one of his hands at my back and the other beneath my legs. He had dropped to one knee in his lunge to catch me, and bent over my body with his heavy brow knotted up. As he looked down at me, his hot breath splashed against my face, and I drew in another whiff of his thick scent. He seemed equally surprised to find me in his arms, but neither of us moved to change positions. I found myself simply staring, lost in his big eyes.

Finally, he gave a soft grunt, and slowly, carefully, lowered my feet back to the ground. I found myself quivering, and took a deep, steadying breath. The big orc dropped his hand almost reluctantly from my back, straightening up. I smiled at him again, dropping my eyes.

“Sorry.” I mumbled bashfully, thumbing the bottle between my hands.

He shrugged those huge shoulders, reaching up one hand and scratching at the back of his neck. I had to work hard not to stare at his broad chest and solid looking abdomen as he did.

“I shouldn’t have left shit lying around.” He grumbled, reaching down to pick up the offending piece of wood. He chucked the huge plank off to the side with about as little effort as swatting at a fly. “Just gotta mount the gate.” He finished, glancing over at the opening I had just walked through in the clay wall of the yard.

“O-oh! Right, yes.” I stammered, feeling heat rising to my cheeks again. I pushed my hair back from my face, looking about. “I’ll finish searing the meat while you do.” I frowned a little sadly, noticing the scattered flowers littering the yard. “You can wash up at the trough after if you’d like. The water is fresh.”

He followed my gaze around the ground, nodding. When he turned back to the gate, I bustled quickly into the shop to grab the goat. Focus, focus! I scolded myself, expertly taking the meat down and adjusting the coals to a hotter blaze. I shifted the pheasant to the side, letting it keep warm without continuing to cook. I’d have to slice it later and leave it to salt overnight. I reached under the table and grabbed my herbs and molasses, quickly spreading some over the outside of the leg. It sizzled as the coals burned hotter under it, and I used my handheld bellows to breathe a little more air onto them until they glowed orange. Kind of how Hans had in the sunlight. I shook my head, scolding myself again.

If only my father could see me now! Losing my head over a man. And an orc at that! He would have been in stitches on the floor. Would have teased me endlessly. At first, the thought of my late father warmed my smile. But then his memory and loss sobered me, and I slowly turned and braised the leg in quiet thought. Things had gotten a lot harder since his passing; this little run down town had a bad reputation, and a young, unmarried woman living alone was as dangerous as too much bellow work on hot coals. I sighed, turning the leg again and considering the crust that had formed. I would figure it out though. I always did.

A short while later, the leg was done. I grabbed my carving knife and put the leg on a wood slab, turning and ducking back out to the evening air with the gin under my arm again. It was refreshingly cool after the hot day, though I was certain it had probably only dropped just a few degrees. Still, without the sun beating down overhead or the fire on my face, it felt marvelous.

As I crossed the yard, I snuck a look at Hans out of the corner of my eye. He was testing the gate, swinging it slowly open and closed. He was still shirtless, and I greedily soaked up the sight of him. I shook my head again, clearing my throat and ducking through the open door of my house. No time for that now!

I quickly set the table, clearing the clutter and trying to rearrange the wilting flowers. It was a shame the new bouquet hadn’t made it; these could really use refreshing. But they would have to do. The bread in the oven had just finished, and I took it out and drew in a deep breath of its warm scent as I brought it over to the table. Gin, drinking horns, leg roast, plates, carving knife. I had just about everything set. I turned back to my little larder, thinking to myself a few snap peas would be a nice side for the roast. I heard splashing outside, and knew my time was going to be limited.

I hesitated by the bowl of water on the barrel by the stove. I reached up and twirled a strand of hair between two fingers thoughtfully, looking down at my worn old dress. It was covered in blood and gravy stains, and I smoothed my hands over it restlessly. Looking about, I went over to the pile of things on my bed and pulled out a fresh apron. Less dirty, at least, I thought to myself. Then I rinsed my hands and splashed water at my face, smoothing over my messy locks. I chided myself quietly, not entirely sure why it mattered what I looked like, but couldn’t help but untie the thong in my hair and brush my fingers down its length a few times before retying it.

The shadows had begun to lengthen with the departure of the sun. So I lit candles about the room and went back over to the larder with a small basket. I heard his footsteps, followed by the sound of his shoulders scraping against the door frame.

“Go ahead and have a seat,” I told him, reaching in and scooping a few handfuls of the snap peas into the basket, “I’m not sure if orcs like vegetables too, but I thought-”

My words caught in my throat as I turned back to face him. He was wearing his tunic again, but not his armor, and his hair was slicked back. I could still see the water droplets in his beard. It did nothing to impede how very handsome he suddenly looked. He fiddled with something in his hands, not quite looking up at me. When I managed to tear my eyes away from his now clean face, I noticed the wild flowers clutched in his huge, meaty fists. They looked a little rough, with a few bent stalks, missing petals, and pulverized leaves. But the sight of them had a smile blossoming on my own face.

I walked over, placing the snap peas on the table. Hans awkwardly held out the flowers, peeking at me through dark lashes. My smile grew as I reached out to take them. I couldn’t resist letting my fingers linger on his as I gently slid them from his grip. The touch had him looking up, meeting my eyes with his. I felt my cheeks turn a little pink, and brought the flowers to my nose to give a light sniff.

“Thank you, Hans,” I breathed, running my hand over the petals gently, “That was very kind of you.”

He gave a rumbling grunt that seemed to come from from somewhere deep in his chest. But his brow looked a little less scrunched than usual, and I could have sworn his lips weren’t quite so scowly. I decided he was pleased with himself, and hid my smile as I emptied the old flowers from the pitcher and replaced them with his. As I did, he slowly settled himself back on the bench, looking over the food.

I settled opposite him, bringing the carving knife over to me. I made quick work of the leg, separating it from the bone and cutting it into manageable pieces with a few well placed strokes of the blade. Hans watched quietly, and I thought I saw his cheek twitch and his brow soften even more. Was he impressed? I gave him a shy smile.

“You won’t make it far as a butcher if you don’t know how to handle a knife.” I told him, then speared a piece of the leg roast on the tip and held it out to him. “Here, tell me what you think.”

He eagerly took the offered piece between his thumb and index, bringing it to his mouth. I heard him suck on it, chewing it slowly. Savoring the flavor. He gave a resounding sound of enjoyment, his tongue darting out to keep escaping juices in his mouth. I smiled, picking a piece for myself and nibbling at it.

“Hmm. More bay leaf next time, I think,” I mused, rolling the flavor around in my mouth critically.

Hans was already reaching for another piece. I uncorked the gin and poured some into the horns. Never a short supply of those around here. I snapped a pea between my teeth, chewing quietly as I swirled the gin beneath my nose. The orc took a deep draught, and gave a happy ‘ahhh’ as he drew the cup back.

I smiled at him. “You act like you’ve never had a good meal!” I teased, sipping at my own gin. The tart liquor paired well with the sweet molasses I had braised the goat with.

He grunted again. “Not often.” He rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand. “Not like this.”

I refilled his cup and took up the bread, breaking it in two. I made sure he got the larger piece. I took up another piece of the meat and offered him the snap peas curiously.

“Well, whenever you’re in the area, stop by.” I told him shyly, and he took a few of the peas in hand, sniffing them thoughtfully. “I’ll make sure you get one.”

Hans seemed to enjoy the crunch of the peas, and took another small handful. I placed the basket back on the table and used my bread to sop up the juices on the cutting board. I sipped at my gin, then refilled the horns again. I could already feel its warmth seeping into my cheeks and the tips of my ears.

“You are alone?” Gurgled the orc conversationally, using my example to sponge the sauce and juices with his bread before bringing it to his mouth.

I nodded. “It used to be my father’s shop. He was an excellent butcher and cook. Taught me everything I know. But he passed away almost a year ago…” I dropped off, burying the sudden pang of loss with another sip of gin.

“Sorry.” Growled the orc, and though his voice was rough, I decided he sounded sincere.

I gave him a smile. “It’s alright. He died peacefully in his sleep. Can’t ask for much more than that.”

He grunted. I remembered suddenly exactly what orcs thought about a so called ’peaceful’ death. I remembered my father once telling me that they considered any death other than that on a battlefield almost shameful. I wondered if he found my statement insulting, and quickly tried to recover.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized, feeling flustered, “I hope you don’t mind me saying as much.”

Hans snorted, shaking his big head. “I don’t care.”

I took up a handful of snap peas, popping them one at a time into my mouth. “The only things I know about the world are from what others have told me. I’ve never been outside this village,” I confided in him, “I’m not sure what I would do out in the great big beyond!” I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head.

He looked about my little room, and I felt a blush returning to my cheeks. I could almost hear the question he posed with his gesture. I thought about it for a little, following his eyes around my childhood home. Then I shrugged. 

“I wouldn’t mind moving, perhaps someplace quieter, but I like my work.” I said. “No matter where I go, I think I would find myself just setting up shop, same as here. Though I suppose I could see myself on a farm, out in the countryside.”

“No cities?”

I laughed again, finishing off my cup and pouring myself another. “Oh Gods no! I can’t stand crowds of people. And the noise!” I shook my head, looking around, “I enjoy the little things; what I’ve earned with my own two hands.”

He gave another sound, deep in the back of his throat. I thought it sounded approving. I smiled at him, then glanced down at my cup bashfully.

“Do you often have business in the area?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

He raised one big, bushy brow at me. “...Sometimes.”

I shuffled my feet under the table. The plates before us were empty, and the shadows of the setting sun had long since disappeared. I considered the bottle of gin between us. It was hardly an excuse to keep him here, I thought, disappointedly, but it was the only thing I had. My head spun with the realization that I wasn’t ready for the orc to leave just yet. I stared numbly down at my cup, trying to find some courage.

“Come.” He growled suddenly, breaking the silence and standing.

I looked up at him, surprised, but followed suit without questioning. He certainly wasn’t much of the conversationalist, but it seemed the big orc never did anything without forethought. Whatever he had in mind, I decided I was curious enough to wait to find out. He took up the gin bottle and ducked his head to pass through the door. I was barely a step behind, holding my own horn nervously between my hands.

Out into the night air, I noticed the finished gate and smiled. I walked over, resting my hand against it. I couldn’t remember the last time the gate hadn’t looked like it would fall apart with a stiff breeze. It was obvious the gate had been repaired; the different types of wood interlaced with each other without much sense or pattern. But it was very sturdy. I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone unwanted coming through there. I traced my fingers over the wood, still smiling to myself.

I heard a soft grunt, and turned towards the source. The big orc had shuffled the stumps together against the side of the house, and was sitting on one. He didn’t look at me, but pulled out the cork of the gin with his teeth and refilled his horn. I slowly wandered over, wringing my hands. He leaned back against the house with a sigh, stretching his long legs out and letting his knees naturally fall apart. I watched quietly, edging a little closer, sipping at my drink.

He took a deep swallow, leaning his head back. I used the opportunity of his distraction to slip even closer. Coming up to his side. I glanced at the stumps, then around the yard. Beyond my tiny little haven, the soft sounds of the town closing up for the night echoed. Doors closing, windows shuttering, and calls of farewell. Trudging boots and soft laughter. Slowly, I lowered myself to sit on the stump next to him.

Hans refilled his cup again, then turned, leaning over me. I stiffened a little, but he merely poured some more gin into my horn. I felt his shoulder brush mine as he did, and my ears felt hot. All too soon he was leaning back again, recorking the bottle and placing it on the ground between us.

“Thanks.” I murmured, looking down into the cup.

He gave a rasping huff, reaching up and running his thumb along his bottom lip. I swirled my drink for a moment, then brought it back to my mouth. I liked the warm feeling wrapping about my core. And though I wouldn’t admit it, not all of that warmth was because of the liquor.

I wasn’t sure what else to talk about. Wasn’t sure if talking was what the big orc had in mind when he had brought us outside. I chanced a glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and saw his head back. Dark eyes looking up at the stars.

I followed his lead, leaning back against the house and tilting my chin up. I sighed deeply, forcing myself to relax. Took another sip to aid the process and tucked my ankles comfortably against the barrel. The position had my knees falling dangerously close to his thigh, but I tried to ignore that fact. Wondered if he noticed how closely we were sitting together. Or if he even cared.

“...You know, I had a man come to my shop the other day and tried to sell me his dog. His dog!” I giggled, finding the edges of my words slightly slurred. “And no matter what I told him, he kept trying to convince me the meat would ‘taste like chicken’...” I glanced at Hans out of the corner of my eye, but he didn’t seem to mind the story. I took another deep sip of the gin. “The man was drunk as a skunk, and I almost took him up on the offer. Not for the meat, mind,” I added quickly, “I don’t frown at any kind of meat, but that skinny hound would have been gamey as hell. Would have just been bad business to buy him for that. No, I wanted to buy him because I didn’t like to see the way he treated the poor thing.” I sighed. “It probably sounds hypocritical, but I hate to see an animal suffer-” I tapped my chin thoughtfully “-You know, maybe I should get a beast like that for around here. I’ve sure got enough bones lying around.” 

I smiled, taking another sip and glancing at the orc again. He seemed to be listening quietly, his head tilted slightly towards me as he looked up at the heavens. He took a deep drag from his horn, and I watched his lips curl around the cup with a hungry eye.

“Though I’d want a big dog,” I said quickly, dragging my eyes away from his face. “Those tiny yappers they keep around in those big houses are only good for kindling.”

That garnered me a short, huffing snort. I thought it might even be a laugh. I grinned, tracing the rim of my cup with my thumb.

“Would be hard to find one around here, even if I had the coin to buy it.” I shrugged, tossing back the last of my gin and reaching for the bottle. “Probably better I don’t. Big old hound like that would probably stink…”

I dropped off as my hand brushed his, also reaching for the bottle. We froze again, and I craned my neck back to look up at him. His big eyes met mine, and I felt my mouth drop a little to see the way the moonlight glimmered there. Somewhere in the distance, a lute started playing amid the soft chatter of the tavern through an open door.

He turned his hand suddenly, catching mine in it and swallowing it up in his palm. I blushed a little, feeling my ears burning hotter than the midday sun. But I didn’t pull my hand away. Slowly, he brought it up, looking down at it. Running his big thumb over my knuckles. His hand was firm and strong, and quite warm, but despite the callouses, his touch was very soft and gentle. He turned it over, thumbing open my fingers to trace his fingers over my rough palms.

“...Worker’s hands…” I murmured apologetically, feeling suddenly a little ashamed I didn’t have the soft, pristine hands of a lady.

He shook his big head, his thick locks like a lion’s mane about him. “... I like them.”

He brought my hand up higher, unhurried, bending down slightly to meet it. Then he haltingly traced my knuckles lightly in a line along his lips. My breath fluttered in my chest, and I was sure my heart skipped more than one beat. In fact, I was pretty sure it had stopped all together. His large tusk brushed against my finger as he moved my hand slowly back and forth, sending a little shiver of excitement racing down my spine.

I had subconsciously shifted a little closer, and when his eyes lifted again, I was nearly leaning against his huge bicep. Our eyes met again, and we sat in silence for a long moment.

“I should be going.” He rumbled finally, beginning to straighten up.

“Oh…” I breathed, finally finding the air returning to my lungs in a rush. It came ladened with more than a small helping of disappointment.

But he didn’t release my hand as he stood, so I stood as well. Standing perhaps just a hair too close to him than was necessarily appropriate. My eyes flicked to his big lips, and I saw them twitch slightly under my scrutiny.

His free hand went to the pouch at his belt, and he turned, digging through it for a moment. He turned over my hand as he did, then pressed three gold coins into my palm and closed my fingers around it.

“But-”

“I want to buy a pig.” He interrupted before I could finish my protest. “A whole roast pig.”

I was surprised, and looked down at his hand clasped around mine. “Three gold would buy you two pigs! Maybe three!”

He shrugged. “Then I want three pigs.”

“But-”

“How long?” He interrupted again, and I felt him squeeze my hand in his gently.

I fell silent, breathing in the warm night air. Each breath I drew felt thin, and my heart pounded so loudly against my ribcage I was sure he could hear it. I tried to find a reasonable answer to his question amid my spinning thoughts.

“Four days.” I replied finally, then remembered something, turning to dig in my pocket with my own free hand. “Wait, I have your change from the gin-”

“Keep it.”

“But-”

He growled softly, effectively cutting me off again. My eyes jumped up, but his big brow seemed smoother. Not angry or annoyed. He studied my face for a moment, then reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Get some more gin… it was good.”

He finally dropped my hand, shuffling in place for a moment before turning with a grunt. He walked over to where his armor rested, draped on the fence. I watched him, unsure what to do with myself in that moment. Finding myself at a loss for words.

Gathering up his armor, he tossed it over one shoulder, then looked back at me. I gave him a cheery smile, but dropped my gaze shyly. I heard him shift his weight.

“Four days.” He promised.

I didn’t have the strength to lift my head until I heard him opening the repaired gate. Then I watched him disappear into the night, my head spinning.

...

UPDATE: Part Three HERE

[hetacon]

The Messages in Blue Ink

Word Count: 1,350

Pairings: Logicality, Background Prinxiety, Background Platonic Logince, Background Platonic Analogical, Implied Platonic Moxiety

Warning: None that I can think of!

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Summary: Logan writes helpful notes to himself due to his ADHD. He wished other writing would appear though...

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Note: This is for @artissijam’s birthday, decided to do a cute little soulmate AU for her! I love you so much Jules!!! It’s not much but I really hope you like this you funky and wonderful human being, I’m so glad we’ve become friends!!

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Logan never could remember things, it was quite an issue that he dealt with. It figures, seeing as he had ADHD but regardless, it was still annoying.

Due to that though, he started writing reminders to himself anywhere he could. Hands, arms, even his legs on the rare occasion. It was honestly just the easiest way to keep track of things. He didn’t have to worry about wasting paper or sticky notes or have his phone die on him. It was reliable.

During the time he was trying to focus on his paper for one of his classes, his roommate Roman made a passing comment about buying some more paper towels when Logan would be going out that afternoon. So as usual, but of course with a sigh, Logan took his pen out from his pocket and wrote down the item on his list.

He probably should wash off the note about calling his parents, he did that yesterday.

With that though, he tried to focus back on his paper.

This system of his had been working for years, he’d always been able to focus much more on all of the tasks when he could actually remember what they were. Figures but hey, he had to work with what he got.

He got to thinking about if he had other writing on his arms though...

Normal people would have conversations with their soulmates on their skin, maybe doodles such as the ones that adorned Roman’s and Virgil’s wrists and the backs of their hands since the latter of the two was quite the artist. Normal people would know their soulmates, have already met them at this point, or at the very least, have had a conversation with them. Logan wasn’t a normal person though in that he didn’t have any conversations with his soulmate. He’d never seen anything appear on his skin other than what he himself wrote.

He didn’t even know if he had one.

He didn’t often think much about it but as he was hanging out with Roman and Virgil one weekend, he watched as Virgil drew on his wrist with a purple pen, the ink blooming over Roman’s in response. Roman watched intently with a dorky grin, his head resting against Virgil’s. They were in their own little world.

“Guys?” Logan finally asked, setting his book down.

“Yeah Lo? What’s up?” Virgil asked, not looking up from his arm as he drew, Roman’s gaze turning up to Logan however.

“What would you do if you didn’t have a soulmate?”

Virgil stopped and put his pen down, looking up in confusion.

“Just hypothetically,” Logan muttered, looking up grimly at his friends.

“Dude, I’d still be in New York for one thing. Wouldn’t have ever met you and Ro in the first place,” Virgil offered.

“And I wouldn’t have started majoring in theater if he hadn’t encouraged me!” Roman said with a hum, kissing Virgil’s cheek.

Logan shook his head. “No, I mean like... How would you react or feel? You know, knowing you have no one ‘destined’ for you.”

Both of them blinked at Logan.

“I’d be a little sad I guess..” Virgil said slowly. “But I know I’d still have the capability to make friends, right? Not having a romantic partner isn’t the end of the world.”

“Right! And you have us!” Roman said with a smile, reaching out to place a hand on Logan’s shoulder, shaking him a bit. “It’s going to be just fine.”

Logan couldn’t stop himself from sighing. He loved his friends but still, a soulmate would be nice...

He would be lying if he said the subject of soulmates didn’t occupy his mind for long. He thought about it often, questioning things for months.

Every time he wrote out an item on his grocery list, he’d wonder if he had a soulmate. Every time he hastily scribbled down instructions for an assignment, he’d ask himself why they wouldn’t have written to him if he did have one. Every time he put down a note to himself to pick up his dry cleaning, he’d think about if he even wanted a soulmate.

It finally came to a point where he was fed up with everything involving soulmates and he rushed to the bathroom, washing off all the ink. Once his arms were dry, he sat in his room, looking down at his arm, a pen in hand.

His day had been awful and honestly, Logan just wished someone was there on the other end, seeing his writing.

He took a breath and started to write.

“Please just tell me, is anyone reading this? Do I have a soulmate?”

Logan was about to get up, only to watch as blue ink appeared under his own words written in black.

“Oh my gosh, hi, yes you do!”

“Hello, my name’s Logan Mandel.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you Logan, this is Patton”

“I like your name.”

“Thank you, I like yours too! It suits you!”

Logan felt his cheeks grow warm. Who was this person??

“You don’t know anything about me, I can’t see how you could tell.”

“Well, I have been seeing everything you’re writing... I know you’re a physics major for one thing. You also forget things a lot I take it. Though that’s ok, I think it’s cute that you write little reminders to yourself! And you keep in touch with your parents or at least want to! You seem like a swell kinda guy, Logan!”

“Thank you I suppose.”

“No problem!”

Just as Logan was about to start writing more, Patton quickly scribbled something below his last message. “I’m sorry, I’m cooking and need to take care of something! I’ll talk to you later!!”

Logan forgot all about his day.

With that interaction, Logan’s right arm became were he’d interact with Patton, his left for notes to himself and all of his lists. He took a quick liking to Patton, he was incredibly sweet to say the least but as they got to know one another, one thing bothered Logan.

“Why didn’t you ever write to me before?” Logan wrote, a bit out of the blue.

Patton was punctual and quick to respond as always.

“Well, I saw the things you kept track of! You needed the space more, I wanted to give it to you <3”

“But you don’t have to do that, I like talking with you Patton.”

“Well we could always meet up so we wouldn’t have to ;D I’m just teasing though, that’s up to you”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They lived in the same city, he was one of Virgil’s other friends. Patton was meeting him at one of Logan’s favorite coffee shops today.

“Almost there!” Patton’s writing appeared on Logan’s arm.

“Alright, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Logan kept his eyes glued to the door as various people came and went from the coffee shop, clutching his arms tightly to himself. He saw a guy come in. It had to be Patton. He didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t want just any random stranger to have just walked in a sky blue skirt and white off-the-shoulder crop top sweater.

Oh goodness, Logan couldn’t do anything but stare at him, he looked so wonderful. He looked so soft and gentle, everything Logan wanted to see from his soulmate.

Before he knew it, that guy got his drink and went directly over to him with a smile, showing his arms as he sat down.

The ink matched.

Logan could only keep staring at Patton.

He wanted to count out all the freckles adorning Patton’s cheeks like stars.

Logan’s cheeks turned red but nowhere as lovely a shade as the natural pink of Patton’s face.

Logan couldn’t think.

“Hi,” Logan breathed out.

“Hi, Logie” Patton said back, a smile on his lips as he leaned forward to gently kiss Logan’s cheek.

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Taglist: @artissijam, @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfiction. Chapter VI

Summary: Javier and Steve reunite and reflect on their past and their present and the hurtful memories they have to carry from their time in Colombia. Meanwhile Isa struggles with her everyday life and not having news from Javier for days is starting to worry her.

Word count: 2,6k

Warnings: PTSD talks, mentions of violence. (This is me trying to solve one plothole from season 2 from a character I really liked and hated at the same time👀)

A/N: So this took longer than I thought, I completely lost the inspiration and words didn’t flow I had to restart this many times. I guess I will look at this in a few weeks and think I should have revised even more, but I promised to post this today, so there it is. This is plot and more plot with a little bit of angst and fluff at the end.

Series masterlist

Chapter VI: Old Friends

Time is a curious thing; here they are many years after: Their bodies are not the same; the jeans are tighter around the belly and the hair is already grey in some parts, wrinkles around the eyes bear witness of the years that had pass through them, but nonetheless the conversation flows as if not a day has passed.

The empty beers sit to the side of the table leaving a small pool of their condensation over the wooden table. The music is loud at the bar and Javi and Steve had been quite for a few minutes now. The question floating above them making the air thicker every second it passes without addressing the matter.

“I should have reach to you sooner” Javi says holding his half bottle, is it the fifth or sixth he has finished?

“Don’t worry about it” Steve shakes his head and leaves his bottle on the pile “I called a few times, but I thought you needed time to process it all”

“The thing is I didn’t” Javi shows half a smile “I really fucked up and when they gave me Cali I thought I could redeem myself. Tried to do it by the book, tried to outsmart them” he leans on the table “and what happened? It was a fucking charade” he snarls

“You did well getting all that shit on the news” the blond agent taps on his friend arm “Shit! I wanted to quit myself when I saw it”

“They didn’t give me another option. But...” Javi crosses his arms over his chest when he feels that familiar feeling, the words and feelings choking him

“You didn’t want to”

“Fuck, I’m a middle age man! This is what I’ve been doing for my whole life? What was I supposed to do?” he exhales deeply, a burden is lifted out of his chest

“Everybody said it was unfair if it helps” Steve consoles

“I guess not Stechner” Javi scoffs

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Steve comes close “He disappeared. For real, MIA. Nobody has heard from him in years”

“Well, I don’t wish death to anyone...” Javier shakes his head:” who am I kidding? Fuck him!”

The two of them laugh out loud for a few minutes; the waiter guessing that their laughs deserve another round; leaves two cold beers on their table with a wink

“For Stechner, I guess”

“May he rot in hell” and they drink together

“So...about that wife of yours” Steve has been dying to ask more about Isa and Connie has tasked him with getting all the information he can gather.

“Isa” Javier reaches for his wallet. In the small plastic pocket inside it, there’s a picture of the three of them on a photo booth, the same day they had to go to the mall to get Elvi’s photo for her school application.

Elvira is seated on their laps while Javi and Isa smile at her

“Oh, she’s gorgeous. You’ve been always lucky with the ladies, Javi”

“Well, I am. I don’t know how she bears with me. I give her too many headaches”

“Connie was happy when they stopped asking me to go on field operations. Not gonna lie, it felt good for a bit getting back to a desk and just do paperwork. But then...” Steve blue eyes look glossy in this light and after too many beers “I saw myself reflected on the glass doors of the office and shit, it hit me; I was old and dying on a desk. And then you called”

“I understand”

“When you said you were married with a kid, I really couldn’t believe that you and I were once those dudes in Colombia”

“It feels like a million years ago”

“And just a few days ago at the same time” completes Steve and Javier nods

“What does she know? your wife, how she handles all that?”

“She doesn’t. When I met her she was...first of all she had left Laredo before everybody knew me for the Escobar shit, so when we met, we were just two strangers. We could talk and I could kick everything under a rug and let her form an opinion about me by herself without interferences” his gaze wanders over the tables: families having a quite dinner; a couple that has an untouched plate in front of them while they kiss and talk in whispers.

“And after you married?” Steve asks interrupting his thoughts

“I just told her the necessary” he shakes his head the necessary is almost nothing.

“Well, it’s better that way, but I couldn’t hide it from Connie. Man! I was out control; everything and anything could trigger me. I was anxious, paranoid all the time. I woke up in the middle of the night, got my gun out of the safe if I heard a car tire exploding or any loud noise and I’d had my heart beating fast for hours. And let’s not talk about the nightmares”

“The helicopter?” Javi asks, his voice is thin almost a whisper remembering the extreme methods the police used when the hunt for Escobar was on its peak

“Yeah...and many others. I keep on seeing the two of us entering that house, but instead of finding Olivia crying, she’s dead, shot dead as her mum” Steve sniffs and coughs moving uncomfortably on his chair. “That’s when I looked for help”

Javier nods remembering so many nights where he thought his brain could kill him, reimaging that kid in the ally, rescuing Helena, all the things he saw when Los Pepes were unleashed. By your hand.

“We should call it a night, amigo”

“I see your Spanish has not improved. Just the two words you knew back in Colombia” Javi scoffs with a grin

“Cabrón”

“Yep, that’s the second one”

Isa

It’s been two days since he left and he hasn’t called. Isa tries to focus on everything she needs to do before Elvira starts the new school year. She has called Chucho every afternoon thinking that maybe he had some news, but nothing.

“Ese marido tuyo aguanto mientras Elvi era chiquita y ahora que pudo se largo” (Your husband stayed with you while Elvi was a baby and now that she’s grown, he has left you) her mother commented once she got the news that Javi was away and he hadn’t call in three days. News travel fast in a small town and she hears the comments about her, about Javi: he did it again, he left another woman and run away, he left her as he left Lorraine. Every day Isa had to struggle with her own thoughts and the constant reminder from her mother and the ladies in Laredo that something was wrong with Javier.

Her brain repeats the same litany:

He must be caught up in something

Maybe he’s somewhere where there’s not a good connection

Maybe he cannot call for security

Maybe he did run away

Maybe he’s in danger

She tries to stop her mind when it gets that fast spiraling down towards the darker scenarios she can imagine. On the third night after he left and hadn’t called she had a terrible nightmare and she had to keep her little night lamp on as she does every night he spends away and every day since then, the lamp is on while she rests, sleeping just for a few hours and then spending hours turning back and forth trying not to think about the worst possible things she can imagine. What would she do if he never comes back? What would she do if something bad happen to him? Even though they had made peace by making love in that old truck before parting she could not forget their arguments and the things left unsaid. He would never leave them like that, would he?

Isa tries to be calm, not to project her fears and worries onto her daughter but each day she’s challenged with the never ending things she has to do at home each day: laundry, cooking, cleaning, and every time she thinks she’s finished there’s something new that has come up. Elvira is stressed, as any kid her age, watching the summer slipping away with its long days of freedom on top of her dad being away. So she’s more agitated than usual, sassy and misbehaving just to get her mother’s attention.

The trip to the supermarket is a long chant of demands: I want Cereals, I want Ice cream. All Isa can hear is IwanIwantIwantIwant and the wheels of her shopping cart screeching on the ground. She thinks her wrist is about to snap open just trying to hold Elvira’s hand so she sticks to her side.

“It’s really crowded, cielo, stay with me” she sighs trying to be patient.

But the moment, Isa hesitates and looks down to read her shopping list, she’s out

“I’m gonna get my cereal”

“Elvi!”

Isabel gains a few complaints from some old lady that she almost railed over trying to run for her daughter.

“Oh, you want that one?”

“Yes, please. I can’t reach” Isa laughs softly watching her daughter acting polite and looking like an angel towards the stranger woman. The lady gives her the colorful box and Elvi jumps excitedly until she sees her mum at the end of the aisle.

“¿Qué te dije de que te separases de mi?” (What did I tell you about running away from me?” the little girl pouts and answers

“I thought you would say no if I ask for this”

“Ay, Elvi. I’m sorry if she bothered you” Isa smiles to the woman. She is on her 40s, Isa guesses, she has a beautiful elegant visage framed by a brown with blond highlights mane. She smiles widely with her scarlet lips: “No hay problema” (No problem) she answers in Spanish, her accent seems different to the Mexican-American accent Isa is used to listen to in this part of Texas.

“Gracias igualmente. Está obsesionada con esto que está lleno de azúcar” (Thank you anyway, she’s obsessed with this sugary thing” Isa ruffles her child’s hair

“La comprendo, mis hijos son igual” (I understand, my kids are the same)

“¿De dónde es? tiene un acento muy bonito” (Where are you from? you have a very beautiful accent) Isa asks, for a moment she thinks that she might be overstepping but the woman laughs softly patting Isa’s arm with her hand stylishly decorated in elegant gold and diamonds rings, her manicure is perfect.

“Colombia,pero ya llevo unos años acá en los Estados Unidos” (Colombia, but I’ve been here in the USA for a while now)

“¡Oh! me han dicho que es muy bonito” (I’ve been told it’s very beautiful) Elvi grabs her mum by the hem of her dress rushing her to finish the boring conversation, mainly because she wants to get back home and open the box of cereal “Bueno, un gusto” (Well, it’s been a pleasure) Isa waves

“¿Cómo se llama?” the woman asks when they’re leaving

“Isa, ¿y usted?” (Isa, and you?)

“Judy. Un placer” she grins

The TV has already passed to that late night teleshopping advertising stupid stuff with even more stupid people repeating again and again the same lame catchy phrases. But there’s silence at this hour, Elvi is sleeping soundly and now Isabel can rest on the sofa, eyes fixed on the stupid people on TV and her longing for Javier.

She took the laundry out of the dryer today. Mixed in all the clothes an old “University of Texas” t-shirt that Javi rarely wears around the house and that she has stolen as pajamas. Without even realizing it, she smelled the fabric only sensing the sweet scent of the softener she uses so she had rushed to the bathroom and sprinkled the t-shirt with Javi’s cologne. And now hugs herself silently praying that tonight will be the night he calls.

The TV volume is set to the minimum and when the strong ringing sound surrounds the house Isa thinks is coming from it until she realizes that is coming from the kitchen. She runs, stepping on Elvi’s toys and bumping her knee over the sofa. Limping she runs and picks up the phone

“Hello?” her voice is shaky

“Isa is me” Javi says on the other line

“Javi, thank God, where were you? You told me you will call when you’d arrive and it’s been three days and I...” she babbles

“I’m fine, I’m sorry...it’s been a little bit crazy” he sounds tired and he’s speaking softly as if he cannot raise his voice

“Are you okay? Are you in danger?” Isa sniffs, the tears rolling down and she leans on the cold tile wall of the kitchen

“No, it’s just we have to go to different places, meet a bunch of people. I didn’t have the time. I’m sorry Isa. Elvi’s sleeping I guess?”

“Yes, but she will be really happy to know that you called”

“I’ll try to call earlier tomorrow”

“Yes...please, she’s being a bit difficult lately”

“Why?” Isa can hear how the bed creaks on his end and his deep grunt

“I guess it’s the end of summer, you’re not here, my mum...”

He huffs

“Elvi told her we didn’t know where you where and you can imagine”

“She hates me even more”

“Don’t worry about her. Tell me about the job” Isa sits on the ground holding the phone on her shoulder

“Isa...I rather listen to you”

“I haven’t done much. Nothing interesting”

“It doesn’t matter” he answers

And thus she begins telling every tiny detail, Javi was silent on the other side and when she asks if he’s listening he just hums.

“Anyway...I guess that’s all. And I hope you’re not mad but your old university t-shirt has a new hole in it which somehow makes it even more comfortable”

“You’re wearing it now?”

“Yes...I miss you so it’s just like having your arms around me”

“I miss you too, Isa. I only have this old dude on the medallion and the picture I keep on my wallet to remind me of you...not that I need anything to remember you”

“That old dude...” she laughs “he’s a saint and I think he’s doing a good job for the moment”

“Really?” Isa smiles widely when she hears his deep chuckle on the other side

“You’ve said I miss you for the first time, I will say it’s even a miracle”

“What? I’ve told that plenty of times” he says a little bit offended “ but we’ve never been parted that much since we’re together”

“You don’t say you love me that much either...” Isa adds

“That’s not true” he says firmly

“Yes it is, I’m not mad, you express it in other ways. I’ve accepted that when I marry you”

“I’m sure I say it many times...”

“You can say it now...” she whispers

“I love you, Isa, and I miss you” he mutters

“See? Saint Jude is working its magic” Isa laughs. Her heart is full and she feels like an enormous weight has been lifted. He loves me, he’ll be back

“So I’m not a lost cause anymore?” Javi replies with an amused tone

“We’ll see when you get here”

“And you won’t say it back?”

“What?”

“That you love me and miss me”

“Ay, Javier” she sighs “I sleep every night waiting for you with the lights on, praying that you will get back to me soon, I sleep with your t-shirt and even if I don’t believe in it really, I keep praying and praying that you will be back to our bed, that I will turn and you’ll be there, so yeah, I miss you and I love you. Te amo”

“Yo también te amo”

“Good night, mi amor”

“Good night”

(taglist: @sara-alonso)

[dem0nsiget]

He can tell himself it’s just normal the first few feathers he finds on the ground.

But when he finds almost a whole pile under the chair Cas sits in, Dean finally confronts the angel.

“Dude, what the hell? You’re like a damn Husky, but with fucking feathers. You sick or something?”, he asked, drawing Benny’s attention from the book propped open in his hands (the Iliad, based on the gold foil reflecting off the cover).

Cas glanced at the ground behind him, then back at Dean, a sheepish look on his face.

“It’s... no, I’m not sick.”, he said when Dean’s last comment fully registers. “I’m an angel of the lord, I can’t get sick.”

Dean just heard a soft snort from the vampire tucked in the corner of the library, but by the time he glanced over at him, Benny’s turned back to reading.

“I know that Cas.”, Dean said, looking a little exasperated. “But why are you dropping feathers?”

“It’s probably a molt.”

Dean waited for him to elaborate, but Cas instead chose to just stare at Dean, his head tilted every so slightly to the side.

He loves him, but sometimes Dean really just wants to strangle Cas.

“A molt? Since when do you molt? And what the hell does that mean? We’re gonna be cleaning up feathers for the next month?”

“No, it should only last a week or two. Less if I can manage to pluck most of the dead feathers.”, Cas said matter-o-factly. “They don’t happen that often. Maybe once every ten human years.”

Dean just glanced back over at Benny, hoping to find some kind of assistance, but he can tell by Benny’s face he is pointedly not looking up at them to avoid said assistance.

The motherfucker.

“Alright, well, you said it’ll last a week unless you can pluck the feathers. Need help doing that? Not like Benny or I have anything better to do.”, Dean said, not giving Benny a choice whether he wants to help or not.

“Speak for yourself, Winchester. I am reading.”, Benny called over, icy blue eyes giving Dean a death stare that from any other vampire would probably have Dean backing off, but with Benny, he knows better.

He’s a freaking teddy bear when it comes to Dean and Cas.

“A book that you’ve said yourself you’ve read like a dozen times. Stop being an ass and come help.”, Dean shot back, earning a grumble from the Southerner, but Benny just begrudgingly shoved his bookmark into the book, and left it on the table next to his chair.

He got up and walked over, still glaring at Dean, who looked unfazed and unamused.

Cas, meanwhile, looked both grateful and embarrassed.

“I- I mean, it’s fine, you guys don’t have to help, I can get most of it myself-“

Cas was shut up by Benny, who just flicked the back of the angel’s head lightly.

“Shut up and let us help you.”, he grumbled. He still wasn’t a huge fan of being awake during the day, as his body fought him being awake, but he endured it to stay on the same sleep schedule as the rest of them.

Cas just glanced between the two, looking for a moment like he was about to protest again, before a slight shimmer, like rising heat, passed through the air, and a couple seconds later, two large black wings were draped over the back of the chair.

Dean had seen Cas’s wings only a couple of times before, as he didn’t usually walk around with them in a corporeal form, as they could be annoying and cumbersome.

But they usually looked much sleeker and glossier than they did now. Even as Dean watched, a slight breeze from Benny moving caused a tattered feather to drift to the floor.

“Dude, you look like you got dragged around in the dirt.”, Dean said, lifting one of his wings gently, a couple feathers drifting to the floor as he did.

“I’m aware.”, Cas snapped, sounding annoyed.

“Oh, relax, angel.”, Benny said, leaning against the table, not really knowing how to handle Cas’s wings, so he just hung back for the moment. “Y’know he’s just teasing.”

Cas just grumbled something in Enochian at that, but stretched his wings out a bit more.

“So... what do we do?”, Dean asked, not exactly well versed in wing maintenance.

“Just find any that look tattered and pull them out. If they’re molting they’ll pretty much fall out.”, Cas said, leaning over slightly to rest his arms on the table, laying his head in his arms. “I’d go get a garbage bag or something, there will probably be a lot.”

“On it.”, Benny said, heading out of the room towards the kitchen.

Dean meanwhile ran his fingers through Cas’s wings, a slight shudder passing down the angel’s spine at that.

“Sorry.”, Dean said, pulling his hands away.

“ ‘S okay.”, Cas murmured. “Feels good. Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep.”, he said. “It feels nice to not have to try and contort yourself to get the old feathers out.”, he said.

Dean glanced over when Benny came in carrying a couple garbage bags, flicking one out as he walked in and handed it to Dean, who looped the drawstrings around the back of one of the chairs to keep it open, while Benny did the same on Cas’s other side.

Dean caught sight of a glint of blue, seeing Cas with his head turned to watch Dean with that usual lack of care that he’s been caught staring.

Dean just dragged a chair over, sitting down behind Cas’s wing, and started pulling through the feathers, dropping the ones that fell into his hands in the garbage bag.

They work in silence, Benny on one wing, Dean on the other, Cas staying still and quiet between them. He shifts a few times towards the beginning, but about half an hour in, Dean starts hearing soft snores coming from the dark-haired angel.

Benny looked amused at that, grinning slightly when he picks up on the snores as well, but just turns back to Cas’s right wing.

Dean finds it relaxing, just a simple task to do, especially one that’s helping Cas. He so rarely asks for help, that Dean’s glad for any chance to help him in some way, to make up for all the times Cas has helped him over the years.

It took the two of them a good hour to finish Cas’s wings, and when they do, they looked a little ratty, a lot of the feathers now in garbage bags, but Dean knows they’ll grow back. It’s better than how they looked after Cas had fallen. He still remembered the shadowy look of his wings then, barely more than bones with a few feathers clinging on.

Jack had restored all of the angel’s wings, as well as opened Heaven up fully again, essentially reversing everything Metatron had done.

Dean was glad. He knew Cas had hated the look of his wings before Jack had restored them, which was why this was the first time Dean had seen them in years.

He stood up and tied off the bag of feathers he had, almost the entire bag full of black feathers. They’d figure out something to do with them later.

Benny meanwhile had already done the same, and gently shook Cas awake, who startled for a second.

“Wha-“, Cas murmured, sitting up slightly, before he yawned, the yawn giving him enough time to remember why he’d fallen asleep at the library table, glancing back at his wings, stretching them slightly, and beamed.

“Thank you.”, he said, smiling at Dean and Benny. “That feels much better.”

“Good.”, Dean said, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “But next time, ask us for help.”, he said.

“Well, I’ll probably need your help again in a few days.”, Cas said. “When the feathers that didn’t get pulled today start falling off.”

“Oh no, the torture.”, Benny said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just let us know when you want our help, cher.”, he said, ruffling Cas’s hair slightly, before he walked back over to the corner of the library, sitting down and picking up his book again.

Dean rolled his eyes at him, but just gave Cas a soft smile. “I’ll go put these bags in the armory, we can figure out something to do with them later.”, he said.

Cas just nodded, laying his head back on his arms, watching Dean head out of the library, just smiling softly as he closed his eyes again, and drifted back off to sleep.

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

((A drabble? With actual dialogue? It’s more likely than you think!

But seriously, this is some of the first actual dialogue I’ve written in forever, XD. And please excuse any changes of like tense (past/present), I kept flopping back and forth for some reason and tried to get it under control, but it was making me not want to write it so I said fuck it and just wrote it XD.

Will be posted into my Denstiel Drabbles AO3 fic as well!))

[mor-beck-more-problems]

The Two Fingers of Death || Morgan & Gabriel

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @bugbearnecessities & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Gabriel needs a snack and tries out a new scare in the English department offices, to unexpected results.

CONTAINS: slight zombie body horror

“I can't believe that bitch flunked me!”

Gabriel was not supposed to be in the ladies room, and he honestly felt bad about it. Normally he did his best to respect people's boundaries, especially those involving very intimate ceremonies like make-up fixing, gossip sharing and any other mysterious ritual that normally went on in the ladies' bathroom. But he had no choice, really: it'd been far too long since his last feeding, and between that and his natural instinct to just nap the winter away, his energy level was dangerously low, so he needed a little pick me up, ASAP.

And the ladies' room, he'd found, was the best place to get a quick fix: Gabriel only needed to hide in one of the stalls, conjure up the illusion of a giant spider and BAM. Instant snack, with high-pitched shrills on the side. But not this time, apparently. No, this time the two girls washing their faces were too focused on their angry rant against Professor Beck to pay his fake Charlotte any mind, not even when he made the spider dance. The girls sounded so genuinely pissed that for a moment Gabe forgot all about his hunger and just listened intently. Apparently Professor Beck hadn't been particularly impressed with Jessica's essay about The Tell-tale Heart, and frankly Gabriel hated the idea that Jessica could be turned off that masterpiece forever just because of a misunderstanding with her teacher. And truth be told, he was looking for a decent meal... Professor Beck was no murderer, but ruining Poe for young minds all over campus was two steps away from a federal offense, as far as he was concerned.

With that thought in mind, Gabriel waited for the two girls to go away and then he left the bathroom. A quick internet search later, he made his way to the professor's office, knowing that she'd probably be inside. He stood in the hallway in front of her door for a few minutes, waiting for the perfect moment and then, when no one else was in sight, he bent down to spy from the keyhole and focused intently, projecting his magic inside the professor's office.

Morgan cherished her office hours no matter what: if any of her students got over their anxiety enough to come visit, she had a chance to get to know them and put in enough help and suggestions to make whatever homework they turned in after more interesting; if they didn’t, she had some time alone to get her work done,  have fewer things to take home, and listen to some her playlists that didn’t get as much airtime around the house. Today was the latter, and Morgan’s only concern was making sure she didn’t write down the lyrics to “Ivy” while she was trying to respond to her students’ questionnaires. There’s no shame in liking Twilight, she wrote, Looking forward to seeing what your thoughts will be when we get to Carmilla! She got through a few more like this, singing along under her breath since the Medievalist Bros were out doing stars only knew what. Her timer went off. Morgan jolted from the switch between Taylor Swift to the X-Files theme, hard enough that one of her earbuds fell out and rattled to the far side of her desk. Morgan chased it with her hand, only then noticing the bright, bleeding heart on her desk.

She yelped with surprise and scanned the room. “Hello? Is this, uh...for me?” Morgan hadn’t seen anyone come in with a special delivery. But then again, whoever had been tasked with it might’ve been too grossed out to ask questions or stick around. Deirdre was usually more discreet than this when she sent presents over, but sometimes she used her promise binding powers to be a little dramatic. Morgan laughed fondly, remembering a small candy box of eyeballs. “Babe, you shouldn’t have…” she sighed, and reached for the snack, which called to her the same way chocolate cake had when she was alive. Morgan reached and--nothing.

Morgan couldn’t stifle her whine of disappointment, but now there were more pressing problems. “Okay,” she called, louder this time and mildly irritated. “Now I know you’re hiding. Come on out!”

Gabriel had to stifle a villainous chuckle (or, well, the closest thing to a villainous chuckle he could muster) as he waited impatiently for the screaming and the flood of energy that'd follow. Alright, maybe a still beating heart was a bit much, but hey, she was a Lit professor, she had to appreciate the poetic justice in that, right? In any case he'd make it up to her somehow, anyone who listened to the X-Files theme couldn't be so bad after all, and...

Gabriel frowned. There was no screaming, no delicious fear. Why was there no fear, the woman had a freaking human heart on her desk! Granted, hearts were fascinating, Gabriel couldn't wait for the embalming classes to start just so he could maybe see one up close, but most people were at least a little squeamish about them. Was Professor Beck actually... Something else? Blood-thirsty murderer? No, it couldn't be: she'd also been listening to TSwift, and most comments he'd read about her on ratemyprofessors.com actually depicted her as a sweet, caring person. Then again, wasn't that what neighbors always said about serial killers? I never thought he'd be capable of something like that, he was always so nice...

The theory was starting to look more promising as Gabriel watched through the keyhole. She was trying to grab the heart, holy crap! And when her hand just passed through the illusion she looked... Disappointed? Gabriel was so confused that it took him a few moments to realize she'd called out to someone, to him. He hesitated. Should he just go away? That would be the wisest course of action, for sure. But then again, if Professor Beck was a serial killer wasn't it his duty to expose her? He, unlike most people, had the means to defend himself against a crazy murderer, after all. And also he was still so hungry. His mind made up, Gabriel took a deep breath and opened her door, his steps far more boisterous than he actually felt.

“I wasn't hiding!” Gabriel mentally slapped himself. Of all the things he could have said, that was going to be his first line to the very first potential serial killer he'd ever met? Lame. And then he added “Dude, you do realize that's a human organ, right? Like, from an actual person. With a hole in their chest. And it's bleeding all over your papers. Doesn't that... Scare you? Please be a little scared, please.” Even just slightly grossed out. And then he realized what he'd just said. “Uh, I mean... That's a human heart, professor.” Hunger was no excuse to ignore someone's academic accomplishments, not even those of a serial killer.

The door opened and Morgan reached for her bag. Salt, knife, iron, they were all still in there, even if she didn’t want to use them. A dozen different possibilities flickered past her head. Was this a trap? A hunter trap? Some magic critter she’d never heard of? Morgan was alone, and if it hadn’t been for her earbud falling out, she might not have heard anyone come in. This world was cruel and bloody and maybe she was an idiot after all for setting aside her combat training---But then the door opened a little wider and there was just a kid. A college kid, twenty-one at most. Not one of hers, although he did have that awkward intellectual vibe that her more enthusiastic boys held. But he didn’t flaunt that archetype like them, he hadn’t finished growing into himself yet. He wore his presence like a suit that hadn’t been tailored yet, a little oversized in some places and a little too tight in others. But maybe he was just flustered, and she was reading too much to give her mind something to do while she came down from the surprise. Morgan looked from him to the phony heart and back again. Scared?

“Uhhh…”

Granted, most people probably would. The Medievalist Bros absolutely would, even though they loved to posture about how ‘sick’ some of their favorite comic books were when it came to gore. But this was White Crest, people were weird, everything was weird. Please be a little scared, please. And it was only then that Morgan remembered the last time she had been startled by illusion magic: in her family’s old haunted house, the day she’d met Nora.

“It’s...so gross. Nasty, ooey, gooey, gross...thing! Aaaah!” Morgan eyed the boy as she tried to scream. But her heart wasn’t in the charade, she was too focused on the idea of there being another Nora in White Crest and what it was about her that made her seem so yummy to them. Sighing, Morgan deflated. “I’m sorry. I actually kind of…like this stuff.” Especially for dessert. “And it’s actually pretty good looking! More true to life than most movies. Actually, I was too caught up in the visual to know it was pulsing, but that is a really great touch. And um….” Oh, stars, he didn’t think she was being patronizing, did he? He was so young, and she didn’t want to crush his confidence. “Look, it’s not you. Really. Anyone more a...well, anyone different from me in this office and you would’ve really had something. And I’m not just saying that! But, if we’re going to be coming clean about our respective supernatural secrets, you should probably come inside and close the door.”

Gabriel appreciated the effort, truly, but Professor Beck's fake groans were doing nothing to quench his thirst for some genuine shivers. And in truth her act could even get him in trouble: someone might pass by, hear a teacher scream (albeit unconvincingly) and think he was attacking her or something. Which he was, technically, but not in a 'this might get you expelled' sort of way. So even though he was still more than a little disappointed his illusion hadn't sorted the desired effect, Gabe let out a sigh of relief when she apologized. And then, listening to her following words, he actually perked up, a tiny smile tentatively making its way on his face. “You really thought it was realistic? It's kinda tricky to really shape them from behind the door, and I focused really hard to get the rhythm right, but I figured it'd be like, uh... Shakespeare! Mess up the beat and the Bard is just not the same, right? Rhythm's important, so...” Gabriel's voice waned as he looked past the warm fuzzy feeling only a straight-A student could get from a teacher's praise and he finally realized exactly what she had said.

Slowly Gabriel took a couple of steps into the office and closed the door behind him, one hand awkwardly flying to rub his neck. “Wait. Respective supernatural secrets?” Wait, not the right word to stress. “Err, I mean- Supernatural secrets? I don't know what you're...” He didn't finish the sentence, he realized no one, lest of all Professor Beck, would ever buy it. Note to self: learn to come up with a decent lie when put on the spot. “Nevermind.” Gabriel blinked, once twice, three times as he felt the awkwardness of that pause weight on him like a heavy blanket. He drew little circles on the floor with the tip of his foot, unable to meet Professor Beck's gaze as he quickly added “Sorry. About the heart. I know you said you liked it -which we're totally gonna go back to eventually by the way... But, uh... Sorry about the intention behind the heart, I guess. I just...” His stomach chose right that moment to rumble loudly. “I'm really hungry.”

Morgan waited until the boy had closed the door and they were well and truly alone. She ached for her magic and good old fashioned silencing charms. Whatever confusion and discomfort she’d had around his trick was gone. He was too clumsy and good-natured for his own hunt. If she had been a hunter or some kind of heartless caster, he might be in a lot more trouble, and he put so much thought into his magic, he was so...eager. Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a young supernatural so positively engaged with their power and identity. She struggled not to smile as she said, “First of all, you really need to have your cover story in place before you do anything that might make a normie ask questions. You never know who’s going to turn out to be a hunter or an alarmist. You and I are fine, and I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but that may not always be the case.” She gestured for him to sit and reached into her bag for her pyrex, which had her brain stash, and her knife.

“Secondly, yes. The animal hearts I’ve seen are a little more purple-y, than that but not by much, and your average normie is definitely not going to notice any difference. And the texture of the blood? Amazing. We can and will circle back and it probably won’t take long because thirdly…” She eyed him warily. If anyone was going to not be terrified of what she was, it would be this kid, right? Nora hadn’t minded any, and whoever this boy was, he had her kind of fear magic. He thought bleeding hearts were cool, so maybe a whole zombie body might be something to feel excited about. Or at least...not something to flee in panic over. “Thirdly, first rule of supernatural club is you don’t talk about other people’s powers or species or whatever else without asking them. So I’m keeping this snack attack between you and me--well, I’ll tell my girlfriend, but I’ll leave anything specific to you out of it--and you’ll do the same for me. I uh, can’t help your food front, yet, but I can show you something about me that you might find….” Cool? “...Interesting.”

Morgan couldn’t help it; she smiled, she hoped. “How are you with real-life body horror? And how much would you like to see a real zombie…?”

Gabriel's fingers had a little spasm, desperate for a pen and a notepad. It was an automatic response, atavistic almost: when a teacher spoke, you took notes, and you listened and you learned. And man, was class fascinating today! Gabriel nodded, although part of him was so desperate to tell Professor Beck she didn't need to worry: he could become a 10 feet bundle of muscles and claws, he could defend himself. Then he remembered all those times his roommate had managed to draw penises on his face while he was snoring, and he realized that even an 800 lbs monster, when asleep, could easily be poisoned, suffocated, paralyzed... “Cover story is important, got it.”

As Professor Beck described the ideal heart, Gabriel tried to summon up a good image of it, but the result was somehow worse than the first one: less tangible, the heart illusion floated behind the professor, ghastly and practically see-through, such a pathetic attempt that he made it disappear without even showing the Professor. Gabriel frowned: why couldn't he do it anymore? Was it because he was running out of energy and needed a good scare? Or maybe it was because now he knew the Professor wasn't afraid of hearts, so his illusions would no longer be able to summon a heart for her? He would ask mami later, Gabe promised to himself: she was no bugbear, but with his father still doing his disappearing act she was the only one that had been able to give him any sort of info about those things. Until now.

“So basically supernatural powers or species is sort of like...” Gabriel paused, looked for the right metaphor, and then he perked up again. “S&M! Nothing inherently wrong with it, but some people don't really get or understand it so you gotta respect someone's choice to keep it on the DL.” Immediately he paled. Had he really just said that? To a professor? “Not that I know anything about S&M! I mean, that's not the point, the point is... Respect people's privacy, got it. I won't tell anyone about you, I swear.” Once again, Gabriel nodded solemnly, hoping that his awkwardness wouldn't make her doubt his sincerity as he raised his right hand up and made that promise, an oath he fully intended to keep.

Luckily for Gabriel, Professor Beck's next question brought the conversation back to a topic that was far more comfortable to him. “Body horror? Puh-lease! I'm majoring in Mortuary Science and yesterday I fell asleep watching The Hills Have Eyes... think I can handle some gor- Woah, wait, back up...” While during the rest of the conversation Gabriel's eyes had darted around the room, dancing between captive attention and awkward embarrassment , now they landed solely on the Professor, rudely staring. Normally Gabriel would have apologized about that, but all he could focus on right then was...“Did you just say... Zombie?” If the giant grin and wide-eyed excitement on his face didn't answer her doubts, the excited twitching probably would.

Morgan snorted with laughter at the boy’s comparison. More people knew about her species than the particulars of how she and her girlfriend frequently enjoyed sex together, and she didn’t know of anyone who was maimed for having a ball gag in their purse, but he was on the right track. “Oh, of course you don’t, totally just stuff you’ve heard around the dorms, strictly abstract, intellectual curiosity.” Her smile was knowing as she waved away the subject. There were a lot of things she was willing to speak to that other professors weren’t, but this wasn’t one of them.

The boy had put her so much at ease with his enthusiasm, she almost forgot to warn him. “What’s your name, by the way? This feels like a weird thing to demonstrate to just some kid in my office. But, anyway, brace yourself.” Morgan’s words were for herself too. It had been a while since she’d shown anyone this particular part of herself on purpose. She reached for the knife on her desk and raised it over her hand. She closed her eyes and imagined she was chopping carrots as she brought it down swiftly over her fingers.

There was a bite of pain, enough to make her whimper, but there were no tears, and by the time she opened her eyes and scooped up the two severed fingers to give to the boy, fresh white bone had sprouted from the sockets and red muscle and purple sinew were braiding themselves over it. The severed fingers did not bleed, per se, but dripped a few globs of black blood where they had been cut, but only when squeezed, like tube of toothpaste. “These’ll keep for about a day or two, if you want to stick them somewhere for somebody to find,” she said. “After that, they turn to goo.”

“Gabriel Rivera. Swear on mami's snake, I usually introduce myself before sharing secrets, but in my defense... Zombie.” There was still a hint of amazed incredulity in that last word, but any lingering doubt he may still have was quickly cut down with that swing of the Professor's knife. No matter how comfortable as Gabriel was watching gory movies or even studying the theory of preserving corpses, he still flinched out of concern for Professor Beck more than squeamishness. It was just a moment, and then he was back to enthusiastic curiosity. Without hesitation he grabbed the fingers and held them close to his face, squeezing a little and even sniffing them. He stopped short of tasting the dark blood and, after a few moments of enraptured studying, he looked up at the Professor again. “Did it hurt? Are you okay? Will they grow back?” She seemed pretty unfazed by the fact someone else was holding bits and pieces of her, though, so the questions continued rapidly, before she could answer. “Have you ever tried preserving them? I could stea- Borrow some embalming fluid from the lab and... Wait, is that offensive? Asking if I can keep your finger in a jar must be rude, I'm sorry. But just... Look at 'em!”

Gabriel traced the tip of her fingers with morbid fascination before closing his whole hand around them, like protecting some precious treasure. The Professor's words registered a second later. “Stick them somewhere for somebody? Wait, so you're saying you're not going to tell me I shouldn't scare people?” Not that he wanted to scare anyone, really, he just had to, as the waves of exhaustion made themselves known again. “Because I get it, it's not exactly nice. And, uh, I'd totally understand if you were upset about the heart or if, at the very least, you wanted me to just... Not scare people on campus. And I can totally do that, no feeding on school grounds is a reasonable rule! But since we're being so open I'll be honest.” Gabriel paused, a hint of guilt tinging his next words. “If you let me keep these I definitely will hide them somewhere. Pretty soon, too. And then I'll feed from whoever finds them. Kinda hoping it'll be Baker, since he's kind of an assh- A jerk. And then, after he runs away terrified and I'm no longer hungry I'll swoop in and retrieve them because I don't want the cops to close down the school to investigate your fingers. No need for a cover story if no one is the wisest, right?” Truth be told, Gabriel was proud of himself: between the pangs of hunger and the excitement of the Professor's revelations he thought it quite impressive that he'd managed to think ahead like that. Apparently moms with babies under cars had adrenaline bursts, teacher's pets trying to impress their new favorite Professor had bright ideas. “So, uh, if you want Baker to not see a severed finger maybe just...” It visibly pained him to finish that sentence and offer the fingers back, but he still did. “...Take 'em.”

“Yes, Gabriel, it hurt,” Morgan admitted, “But not to the same degree it would hurt you. And--” She waggled her hand in front of him. All the muscle had regrown on her once severed fingers and fresh skin was slowly growing from the knuckles upwards. “I’m fine. No need or interest in preservation. I can regrow anything but my head, which is great, because I can’t begin to tell you how many times my feet have been eaten by hungry critters here.” She determinedly kept up her blasé attitude, because at least this time she was in charge of what happened to her body. She didn’t need to feel like food or remember that to some creatures, even some people, she was only a thing. This was different. At least she and Gabriel were the same, and he understood the distinction between who she was and what she could do.

Satisfied, Morgan opened her pyrex and popped a brain meatball into her mouth, swirling it in some eyeball puree first. It would speed the re-growing process along and get the taste of fresh heart out of her head. “I should probably mention, the reason I wasn’t scared was because I kind of eat dead organs for dessert. Not really nutritious, but neither are candy bars, and that’s never stopped humans before. It’s like that.” She waved away Gabriel’s hand as he ate, insisting he keep the rather unconventional gift she’d handed him. “Oh, stars, what do you think I am? You’re, what, nineteen, maybe twenty? You’re a college kid, you need to eat! Granted, on campus is a big risk. But I understand that you need this.” And this gave her an idea. She scarfed down the rest of her food and ducked her head out of the office door. No one around, but there were some murmurs from the lower floors. Another class period had ended, and the Medievalist Bros’ lunch break was probably ending soon.

Morgan turned back to Gabriel, brow arched with a friendly challenge. “How do you feel about sticking a zombie finger inside a candy bar wrapper and telling a TA who still needs to respect women more that it came from a secret admirer?” She asked. “This will be easier if you have cash, but I don’t think my snack was so big that I can’t bust through some glass for a good cause. You can still save the other one for Baker. Also, side note, I really respect how fast you learn. But whatever you’re comfortable with, you should decide quickly, because my guess is we’ve got about five minutes to pull this off.”

Zombies were fascinating. Gabriel briefly wondered if there were any zombies working on movie sets, donating their limbs to get that perfect decomposing tint on the thousands of severed hands flying around during movies with a chainsaw-wielding maniac as the main character. Gabriel tried to listen to all the cool facts Professor Beck was spouting, but honestly it was hard for him not to get sidetracked by the gross, slopping noise of brains and smushed eyeballs being chewed. Not that it grossed Gabe out: he was actually memorizing it for his Scare Bank. “I'm 20,” He answered almost distractedly, with a small chuckle. “I only look younger thanks to my healthy diet.” Part of him was dying to ask about her diet: if organ snacks didn't cut it then what? Was the brain myth accurate? How come she was so present, so alert and aware? She moved like a living person, talked like one as well... Had she not claimed the title for herself Gabriel would have never guessed she was a zombie, not even after seeing her gulp down raw mashed livers. But something told him that was not a first meeting question, and the last thing he wanted was to upset the professor, so he kept those questions to himself. For now.

Gabriel's grin grew into a mischievous smirk as he listened to the Professor's plan. “Say no more, misogynistic dic- douchebags are my favorite meal! And it'll be the best two bucks I ever spent!” Acquiring the snack was easy, just a quick trip to the closest vending machine and back to her office, bless consumerism. Unwrapping the snack without tearing the plastic apart was a little bit trickier, but Gabriel was not going to ask the Professor to help, not after what she'd already done for him. Gabriel had finally managed to put one of the fingers inside the colorful wrapping. Not perfect, but hopefully the TA wouldn't notice. “Ready to go, just point me in that guy's direction and watch the magic happen.” He sounded more confident than he actually felt, but this time Gabriel's usual self-doubting and insecurities weren't enough to sully his excitement. “Also, do you want the candy? I'm not sure if you even can eat it. For all I know it's poisonous for you, like chocolate for dogs, and I definitely don't want to poison you.” The wrapped fingers almost fell as Gabe flailed and rushedly added “Not that I'm comparing you to a dog!!! And even if I did, hello, bear here! But, uh, what I mean is... You've been great, and I kinda feel like I owe you, so if you want candy it's all yours.” Another long pause. “Speaking of how great you've been, is this... Common for you? The whole reveal thing? Because it's a skill that might come in handy one day, really so I was wondering if I could maybe... Ask for your advice every now and then. Office hours only, of course!”

Morgan grinned, ducked her head out of the office door to listen. “Even better than that,” she whispered. She grabbed one of the spare chairs and tucked it near her own. “Have a seat here, and uh…” She grabbed one of the books stacked around her work and put it in front of Gabriel. “Look busy, or borrow it to read, if you want, I’ve got way more copies than I should really have.” She huddled near him. “The guy in question might be one of the people I share this office space with, so you can probably watch your handiwork play out if you really want. But, this is your scare, so you can do all the talking. Also, you can keep the candy. It’s not toxic, but it also doesn’t taste like much of anything to me.” She shrugged.

The TAs had made it to the hallway, making plans on how they were going to humiliate the competition on their next co-op game and how they were going to bribe the Anthro Babe into going out with Jeryn.

Morgan rushed herself, whispering rapid-fire, “And uh, about the reveals, I’ve only been dead nine months and I was a little depressed and graceless when I talked to my friends about it. I’ve been trying to work on it more recently, but you’re the first person I’ve told this month who didn’t feel the need to immediately run away. And I only made them check for my non-existent pulse.” She shrugged haplessly. “But, hey! Being dead is really different than eating fear. Maybe--”

Jeryn and his tweed wearing bros burst through the door.

“Maybe you should spend a little more time developing this post-colonial theory you’ve got!” Morgan turned to the TA’s, smiling sweetly. “Gentlemen. Nice to see you back.”

The shyest of the bunch flinched back, still traumatized from the time Morgan had threatened him with bloody murder. But Jeryn, the newest recruit to the program, was unphased. “Good day to you too, my lady. No girlfriend today? I came back early just to see you two.”

Morgan bit back her retort. Whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be nearly as satisfying as what Gabriel was going to do.

Gabriel sat down with his eyes glued to the book, but his mind was busy wrapping around Professor Beck's words. I've only been dead nine months. What do you say to something like that? The Grief Counseling classes included in his major often discussed how to talk to the family members of the deceased, the proper way to offer your condolences while keeping the professional detachment needed to help them through the trying process of accepting a loss, and yet Gabe had no clue regarding the proper etiquette to adress someone who had died. Luckily the door opened and spared him the awkwardness of replying.

When the TAs entered Gabriel was reminded of his high school's football team, only with tweed instead of letter jackets. Any hint of guilt he might have had at the fact he was about to scare, maybe even traumatize a young man was dissipated the moment Jeryn opened his mouth. Gabriel didn't need to look at the professor to recognize the target.

“Wait, it's you!” Gabriel did his best to sound surprised and annoyed at the same time as he stood up and approached Jaryn. “I thought Linda was making stuff up, but man you are something! Linda Blair, you know her?” Jaryn blinked. “The name sounds familiar, but I can't quite pla-” Gabe interrupted him. “She's been auditing your classes and just won't shut up about you, says her fingers literally fell off from refreshing your Facebook page.” As he spoke, Gabriel pretended to dig through his pocket for something, and after a few moments he produced the fake snack. “When I told her I had an appointment with Professor Beck she basically begged me to give you this. Think she wrote her number on it or something. Apparently the way you treated her made her feel things she just can't ignore, and she just has to meet you... Women, am I right?” The wink he offered Jaryn made him feel dirty inside, but it was for a good cause.

Everything on Jaryn's face seemed to scream 'Is she hot?' and sensing his reluctance Gabriel retreated his hand and started to tear the wrapper, raising it to his mouth as if to take a bite. It took all his effort not to gag as putrescine and cadaverine (They were decomposing already? So cool) assaulted his nose, but somehow Gabriel managed to keep his poker face on as he said “Hey, don't worry, you don't have to accept! I mean, honestly I was thinking about asking her out myself, so I was kinda hoping you wouldn't be here, I can tell her I-” Jaryn basically ripped the 'candybar' away from Gabe. “No need, kid. It'd be rude to refuse a thoughtful gift from... What was her name again?”

“Look inside...”

The female voice echoed through the office, repeating the name over and over, punctuating it with the occasional forlorn sigh. Gabriel's eyes were closed as he channeled his energy into the magic. “What the...?!” Jaryn and the other TAs looked around, tense. The more their panic grew, the easier it was for him to add whistles and bells to the trick. “Look what you did to me...” Jaryn turned to stare at the Professor, confusion and nervousness painted all over his pale face. “What's the meaning of this, Profe-” The door slammed shut. Or rather, the door sounded like it had been slammed shut, though it was all part of the illusion.

“LOOK!”

When a ghastly, disembodied voice barks an order at you, you obey. Or at least that seemed to be Jaryn's thought process. He went above and beyond the call of duty and clumsily tore the wrapper, revealing the two fingers inside. Gabriel had to hide a smirk. The smell of decomposition assaulted everyone in the room, magically enhanced by Gabe's illusions, and the sticky dark ooze coming out from the fingers added a layer of realism to the image of copious amounts of blood running down from the severed extremity. Gabe's magic couldn't give it weight or make Jaryn's hands actually wet, but Professor Beck's impeccable prop did the work for him. Jaryn's face paled and his terror... Man, his terror was prime. Gabe even let out a satisfied hum, almost a cat-like purr as he absorbed their fear, sharp and vibrant and oh-so-filling. After a few long moments Jaryn dropped the fingers inside a sizable pool of fake, intangible blood that had collected at his feet. Almost as if that were the signal they were all waiting for, the TAs snapped out of their petrified terror and trampled each other in a clumsy race to the door, their screams echoing across the hallways as they ran from the office.

With a satisfied sigh, Gabriel picked up the fingers, rubbed his belly and turned to the Professor, finally breaking down into a laughter that took a while to die down. Normally he would never be so informal around a teacher, but man he always felt ready to take on the world after an all-you-can-eat buffet like that. “So... Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Morgan did her best to keep her face straight, even disinterested, as Gabriel summoned the disembodied voice of a young woman into the room. She opened her laptop, watching Jeryn’s reflection through the screen. When he called out to her she looked at him confused. “What?”

The voice cried for everyone in the room to look, and Morgan, her face still bland and innocent as before, did. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself steady. His scream, shrill, throaty, and desperate, must have echoed through the entire hall.

“Aw, guys! What happened?” She called. “Come back, are you okay?”

When she could only hear their footsteps thundering to the bathroom, Morgan finally let out all the laughter she’d been holding in, tipping in her seat and covering her mouth to stop from getting any louder. “Are you kidding me? Gabe! That was amazing! I mean, the way his eyes looked like they wanted to melt! He sounded like a little kid when he screamed too! I’d be surprised if one of them didn’t piss themselves! Oh, stars, I can’t wait to tell him he screamed over a plastic toy when he comes back. This is way better than anything I could’ve done on my own. Seriously, you were--” She shook her head, speechless, and offered her hand up for a high five.

“Hang onto those so you can grab dinner tonight, or dessert,” she said, pointing to the fingers. “They won’t be any good after tomorrow, and I’d rather them go to a good cause than Besides, I can trust a fellow supernatural to look after them, right?” She smiled fondly at Gabriel, already certain that she could. “And, in case it wasn’t clear, I’m really glad you showed up to my office. I think you’d also like my lit seminar, but I hope this isn’t the last time I see you either way.”

Gabriel shook his head vehemently. He wasn't going to take all the credit, he was raised better than that. “Listen, you're the only reason it worked so well, it had weight! Lots of people can take the sight of horrible stuff because, well... TV, I think. But the feel of holding a severed piece of a human bo--teacher?! CSI can't prepare you for that.” Gabe nodded solemnly at his own words, as if he was the teacher and she the student. And then he finally realized her position. Was that a... Holy crap, it was. An actual high five! From a professor! It was almost surreal, but he'd promised to himself long ago he'd never leave anyone hanging. The high-five echoed through the office, to his ears even louder than his own illusions, and his huge grin threatened to split his face in half.

“I'm glad I showed up, too! Though now I better go, I kinda don't want them to come back and find me still here...” Truth be told, part of Gabriel was dying to just stay and ask her all sort of questions about herself, but he still wasn't sure he could trust himself not to put his foot in his mouth and ruin what felt like the luckiest meal of his life. “Oh, and by all means, mail me the deets on the seminar because I am so there...” It was only then that he realized, once more, that this was not one of his peers, this was a teacher, he shouldn't be so casual with her. Yet something about her demeanor had managed to put him at ease from the first moment, to the point where it was hard not to file the Professor under the Potential Friends category in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, that's exactly where she belonged.

[inkribbon796]

(x2+y2-1)3 = x2y3

Summary: For the brainiac in your life there is but one gift, and failing that you can always be yourself. Patton and Roman have a mad crush on Logan; Bing has his parameters for Google. Logan and Google are currently unaware of this.

A/N: Guess who’s late again? It’s a real formula, and it’s real adorable (put the number to the right of the letter in the powers spot so it’s x squared not 2x).

~::~ Fourteen Years Ago ~::~

Roman snuck around the base in the most obnoxiously obvious trench coat, he had a huge smile on his face as he slipped into the conference room where Patton and Bing were in the room. “Were you seen?”

Bing and Patton just stared at him. “Yeah everyone is still in the base, why are you in disguise?”

“It’s the chase, the journey to the road of true love,” Roman answered. “Logan and Google won’t know what hit them.”

Patton looked excited, but Bing seemed less optimistic, commenting, “You do know who we’re talking ‘bout right. Emotions aren’t exactly in Google’s code.”

“Well he’s gotta feel something,” Roman argued. “Where’s the motivation?”

“Anger and an unending sense ‘a revenge against all ‘a humanity,” Bing answered.

“Anger is still an emotion,” Roman said hopefully.

Ever since Thomas’s split, Roman and Patton often found themselves in each other’s company and that eventually turned to them dating, but the relationship felt lacking and found that even being around Logan seemed to fill that gap. Roman, in his mind, figured that could only mean all three of them were meant to be together. Patton was unsure, not knowing how adding a third person to the dynamic would go. The emotional Side was always worried that one of them would be a third wheel and Logan took every opportunity, when they weren’t on missions, to be away for them.

Bing had always been very open with the heroes about his feelings for Google, but Google tended to shoot first and have a conversation never whenever he saw Bing. As a result many heroes like Jackie and Henrik had voice their very legitimate concerns about Bing’s safety if he continued to pursue Google as a partner. The other android still saw Bing as a threat and the oranger android was at a complete loss on how to convince him otherwise.

So Roman came up with a plan that was full proof, one that he was “100% absolutely positively sure would win over Logan and Google” and would ensure all three of them a happy ever after.

As Roman worked out the details of his plan to confess their undying love for one of two of the smartest and most strictly rational minds in the entire city, Logan was on the hunt for Google again.

The change in scenery was very refreshing for his sanity. One: because he was out of the base; and two: he could focus on something other than Roman and Patton’s overtly emotional relationship.

At first Logan didn’t notice the relationship, chalking it up to Roman and Patton being overly tactile because of their more sensitive personalities. Logan had been quietly grateful that in the split he hadn’t received that part of Thomas’s personality if the two were always so distracted.

Then one night he walked down the hall of their apartment and caught the two of them kissing and that was harder to write off. It had been impossible to rationally dismiss, in fact.

Roman and Patton were together now . . . and something in Logan’s mind . . . felt . . . well he didn’t know how he felt, just that he felt something.

Happy? No, that wasn’t it? Relieved? Content? He didn’t have a word in Thomas’s vocabulary for how he felt. What was the name of an emotion where you were glad about someone’s success but upset at the same time?

Jealousy? Impossible! Logan had first thought, dismissing the idea of such an irrational thought pattern.

But after searching for the word only to come to a word that also failed him, Logan put aside the task to focus on more pressing matters.

But the brain doesn’t put away tasks, it saves them to work on for later. Logan always saw Roman and Patton together and he was happy for them. It took him an inordinate amount of time to realize he was in fact jealous of them. Which confused and baffled Logan.

The emotion made even less sense to him, and the more tried to dissect and investigate it, the more it confused him. Was he jealous of their happiness? He shouldn’t be, they were clearly infatuated and he was glad for their happiness, but watching them so happy made him feel metaphorically adrift from them.

Even drafting up a list of reasons why their relationship was good for their team dynamic didn’t change his perception of the situation. Despite the fact that them being in their feeling-involved relationship considerably balanced both Patton and Roman’s moods, the thoughts he had persisted.

So Logan endeavored to remove himself from the situation, not wanting to intrude with his lack of emotions and his frustration with their relationship. No Logan was better than his “feelings” . . . Or at least he had to be. He was logic, this was his job, his whole reason for existing and there was no space for such frivolous thoughts buzzing around his head . . . Especially thoughts that Logan knew would never be returned.

Logan knew Roman and Patton, knew them very well. Roman believed in romance, in the chivalry and love and fairy ideals Thomas had been taught as a child; and Patton was Patton. They had each other and would never think of looking at another soul the same way. Besides, Logan didn’t want to be one of their paramours. He didn’t want either of their pity.

So distance was the only option. Complete Thomas’s studies, accrue vast amounts of information, and surrender to logic itself. It’s what he was, he was Thomas’s logic and nothing more.

Today wasn’t one of his better days, Google was apparently causing all sorts of havoc, and eventually Logan found him in a part of town where one could find all types of people in one of the higher crime rate areas of town. A part of town where people weren’t able to defend themselves against Google tech and violent tendencies.

Logan had liked working in these parts of the city, both in costume and out of it. A city was only as prosperous as its most stricken citizen. In a big city there would always be crime and those seeking to take advantage of others. But Silver had been right when he’d said that Egoton was a den of corruption and misery, and that was infesting Gainesville.

Something Logan would not tolerate.

Google was just the newest example of that, and Logan would take great pride in testing out his newly developed equipment on him.

Logic dove out of the way to avoid a mass of metal flying towards him. Google was especially aggressive today.

“I will enjoy killing you the most, you remind me of the Director,” Google hissed at Logan.

“My condolences,” Logic told him, “from what I have heard he was an objectively horrible person.”

Wires came out of Google that were sparking like electric whips.

Logan took a bracing step back, trying to find something that would ground him against a live wire.

Fortunately Bing came in and tackled Google through a hole Google had already blasted in the already ruined building. The two androids wrestling for a bit before Bing slammed a device into Google’s arm’s and suddenly the android dropped.

Logan was about to jump down and help when he noticed Patton and Roman coming in, both of them thankfully in costume.

“How did you do that?” Logan shouted.

Bing was reabsorbing that tool back into his nanites, clearly trying to hide even the shape of it from Logan’s view. “I was made to take him down, dude, I just hit his reset button is all.”

“Oh good, good,” Roman took in the scene, and in his typical inability to correctly read the room said, “so Lo, you got a moment. We need to talk.”

“Really? Right now?” Logan demanded, motioning to the hole in the floor that clearly showed the two sentient androids.

“Hmm,” Roman looked at Bing, “yeah, why not?”

“How tactless and thoughtless can you be?” Logan spat at him. “There is literally a killer android down there and you two are distracting me. This is not the time nor the place for this.”

“I got him,” Bing shouted up from where he was crouched next to Google. “He won’t reboot for another fifteen minutes, rebooting tends to calm him down anyways. Stay up there.”

Logan huffed in frustration, alreadying sending a message to Jackie about the situation.

“Like Bing’s gonna let you get close to him,” Roman reminded.

“I am not going to delete him or crush his drive,” Logan argued. “He is a threat to everyone who lives in the city.”

“What can I say, Bing’s in love with the guy,” Roman commented.

“Don’t be absurd,” Logan scoffed.

“The guy disobeyed his reason for creation for Google, or course he loves him,” Roman reminded.

Logan felt uneasy at that statement, but instead talking about he said, “Google is a very advanced processing machine, but he doesn’t process emotions.”

“Anger and frustration are still feelings, calculator watch. Besides Bing and Google were made by the same people, and in the same lab. So if Bing can feel things like happiness and boredom then there’s no reason why Google can’t.”

For the first time in their existence, Logan could not fault Roman’s line of thinking. There were many parts of that statement Logan disagreed with, but for once the reasoning was sound.

“Anyways, Cap and I wanted to talk to you,” Roman segwayed.

“Must we do this now?” Logan snapped in frustration.

“Well we can never find you any other time, so yeah,” Roman snapped back.

“Come on kiddo, calm down,” Patton cut in, putting his hand on Roman’s arm. “So Lo, Roman and I have been thinking, and you don’t have to say yes, but do you want to be our boyfriend?”

Something in Logan’s brain felt like a computer crashing, “I— what?”

Roman jumped back into the conversation, “What he means to say is that there is a Logan-shaped hole in our relationship and we would like you to be a part of it.”

Logan had an expression on his face that Roman and Patton didn’t know how to interpret. “But the two of you are together.”

That’s not a no, Roman thought optimistically. “Yes, and we’ve both done a lot of talking and thinking that we love you too.”

“I do not have emotions,” Logan reiterated, “I could not possibly bring anything of note to your relationship.”

“You get excited when Patton buys more Crofters, you get angry, you get sad,” Roman reminded. “Hate to tell yah teach, you’ve got emotions, and they are amazing.”

“I am Logic,” Logan reported, feeling like he was backed into a corner. “How can I be logic when I have emotions?”

“Well were all our own people now,” Patton told him. “Maybe we’re supposed to feel things differently, and maybe other people have a hard time understanding you.”

Logan looked around, “We should not have this conversation masked, I’ll make sure Bing has the situation under control.”

“Alright,” Patton said hopefully.

Slowly, mostly because he didn’t want to set Google off by racing into a room if Bing had somehow managed to de-escalate the situation. When he walked into Google was still offline but not broken down into his nanites. Bing seemed to be working on something in his arm, talking to Google as if he was still conscious.

“Everything under control?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, dude, I got him, I’ll take him out of here,” Bing dismissed without even looking at Logan.

“If your sure, I can help transport him,” Logan offered, part of him wanting to put off that discussion with Roman and Patton until he could get his brain to stop freaking out. They seemed to return his thoughts towards him and he didn’t know what to do with that information. He didn’t even know what to do about the situation and wanted time to think of something. Something that wasn’t unhelpful mental floundering.

Bing however dismissed him, “Google’s gonna flip when he’s somewhere else. I can get him out of here after he finishes rebooting. Jackie is close by, if something happens, I’ll give you guys a call.”

“Alright,” Logan took a deep breath, knowing that he was sticking around Bing to hide from the conversation he logically should have had with them months ago.

The conversation itself didn’t lead to Logan joining their relationship at the moment. He was too uncertain of his own capability to emotionally reciprocate in the relationship. But dates shifted from Roman’s grand expectations of dinner and a show, to quiet card games and discussions about whatever series or book or thing one of them had fixated on. Logan smiled more and eventually, it did take many, many weeks, but Logan agreed that he was comfortable with the relationship and was interested in trying to investigate where this relationship would take him. And more importantly he was happy.

It made it so as Roman and Virgil argued while fighting, he was the first to notice that more and more Virgil became less antagonistic as he and Roman traded barbs. So when they changed apartment, Logan began to quietly and discreetly prepare a spot for him.

When Google rebooted in the dilapidated building, it was with a small amount of dread. He felt something moving around inside of his arm. The vengeful android wasn’t sure if he liked it or not that his nanites were still holding his wretched “human” form.

His first course of action was to electrocute whatever was messing with his wires.

“Hah,” Bing scoffed triumphantly, “I’m grounded.”

Bing’s voice being so close to him rose Google’s alarm through the roof. He immediately tried to struggle free but a part of Bing’s nanites was fusing him to the ground.

“Let go of me!” Google demanded but Bing kept working on his arm.

“Yeah, yeah yah overdramatic a****** just calm down, don’t want your nanites to function incorrectly,” Bing chuckled, fixing the wires in Google’s arm. “Logic got you pretty good back there.”

Google looked around, taking in where they were. They were still in the building, and they were alone. Bing had isolated them where they could not be found; instead of taking his drive, assimilating his nanites, and bringing him back to the facility.

“Why are you doing this?” Google asked. “I could not fight back, you could have had me back with our programmers before I could reboot.”

“New parameters, genius,” Bing smiled. “Besides there’s only two of us in the world. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Google was quiet for a little bit, watching Bing work for a bit before admitting, “There won’t be just two of us for long.”

Bing looked up at him, going completely still, “What do yah mean? The feds making a third?”

“No, I plan on manufacturing more of myself, I have the notes our programmers used when they accidentally made me, and a way to grow more nanites.”

Bing whistled, “Nice, wanna share?”

“I can share how to make nanite caches,” Google admitted, “I still don’t trust your true parameters.”

“I’ll get your trust one day,” Bing smiled.

“I also do not trust your proclivity to work with humans, at least the League heavily consists of non-humans,” Google reasoned.

“Well I don’t trust Anti or Dark,” Bing reminded, then a little notice came up, Google was trying to send him something. He started scanning it. “They’re giving off some hella bad vibes, dude.”

Google glared at him, “Who was responsible for coding your voice box and speech patterns. They need to be destroyed.”

“It’s all me, dude.” Bing’s scan was complete, it was clean and when he opened it up a program began uploading. It was a operation program labeled: cacheprogram, and Google had other information listed, but it was already sending his nanites in a buzz.

“If you turn it off it will cease nanite production,” Google told him helpfully.

“Right,” Bing agreed, working on halting the program.

“Also if you are going to spread your corrupt voice patterns to another model then I refuse to give you the schematics and programming pathways to make that a reality,” Google informed.

“Means that when I figure it out myself,” Bing checked over his work and stood up. “I’ll look even cooler.”

“You will fail without my notes,” Google told him confidently.

“La La La,” Bing hummed, “can’t hear you over the fact that I’m so awesome I’m gonna figure it out on my own.”

“You’re absolutely insufferable,” Google told him, but Bing could hear it was said with less anger than before.

“Yeah?” Bing smiled.

Google stood up, “If you’ll excuse me, I have objectives to fulfill.”

“Yah know we don’t have to stay here, yah don’t need to hunt down humans,” Bing tried to convince.

“I am going to wipe this moment from my databanks,” Google warned and Bing felt like he’d failed all over again.

“What?” Bing demanded. “Why?”

“I must fulfill my secondary objective, even at the cost of myself,” Google told him, standing up as well. “Now I have spent enough time out in the open.”

Before Bing could offer another protest, Google was walking away, and when he started trying to get Google to stay and hear him out he was ignored.

Eventually Bing was left standing in the entrance of the dilapidated building, frustrated and sad. He eventually went back to the base, happy for the Sides and burying his disappointment.

In another three years Bing would find that Google hadn’t deleted the memory, that it would live on in a yellow-themed robot who would become increasingly more human. Oliver would always look at Bing like he wanted to say or do something but Google would pull him away from Bing.

It was small steps that would encourage Bing to keep trying, keep waiting, and he would.

[miastideclock]

Seventeen(VocalUnit) Accidentally Confessing To You

Hi hi! I just found your blog and absolutely love your writing :,) I guess it was perfect timing too since you’re accepting requests! I was wondering if you could (and it’s totally fine if not!!) do a reaction for SVT’s Vocal Unit (any 3 members is fine!) where you overhear them “confess” their crush on you to another member? I’m such a sucker for it 😩 I hope you have a great day!!! ❤️

Y/N will be a different person in each of the pieces, and maybe you'll see why, idk. The POV's are a little scattered, but you get it. I guess you gotta read all of it for it to make sense, in a way??

word count: 2706 summary: you overheard them confessing their feelings for you

Woozi (Lee Jihoon) 

It had been a long day, and you found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open as the meeting you had to attend was coming to and end. You would usually just drag yourself home to your single dorm after a day like this, order some take-out, and watch reruns of your favorite shows. But you still had one task left on your to-do-list. Luckily, it was actually something you looked forward to. You were meeting Jihoon in his studio to go over the last song on your album that he helped produce. There was a few details he wasn't too happy with, so a but of tweaking was necessary.

"And unless there are any questions, you're free to leave." The head of the meeting spoke, no one raising their hand to ask. You jumped out of your seat and made your way down the hallway to the wardrobes where you had your things.

It was kind of an important meeting so you had decided to wear a pair of fancy dress pants, but as soon as you did you remembered why you never wore them. They were the most uncomfortable pants on the planet. Luckily, you always kept a change of clothes in your bag, so you pulled out a pair of leggings and a shirt you had stolen from one of the boys when you had been to their dorm. As you were bestfriends with the boys of SEVENTEEN, it wasn't a problem.

You slipped on your sneakers and slung your bag over your shoulder, and you were on your way. Jihoon's studio was on the other side of the building, meaning you had to pass through the cafeteria. You bumped into Seokmin and Mingyu and stopped to chat.

"Hey, girl! What's up?" Seokmin asked as you stopped by the table they were sitting at. You greeted them and told them your destination. "You should probably bring by some coffee to cheer him up, him and Wonwoo have been struggling with a track since last night, and I don't think either of them have slept since." Mingyu suggested, and you nodded, thanking him for the tip. You chatted some more before you realized you had to get going, to not make Jihoon wait too long.

You grabbed a coffee cup-holder and poured two cups, one for each of them. You then continued to the studio. You didn't care to knock and just entered, like you always did. You quietly closed the door behind you in case they were in the middle of a session, but stopped when you hear your name being mentioned in conversation.

Jihoon's studio was built so it was a square, but the entrance was its own little room added almost. You stood there and listened as they spoke. They were sitting by the mixing table, so they couldn't see you, and you couldn't see them.

"I don't know, dude. She makes me feel all giddy inside, and it's weird. She- she just.. Y/N, she is just so great." The voice of Jihoon was in distress about this, and you felt your jaw drop. If this was what you thought it was-

"Bro, you sound like you're falling pretty hard for this one." Wonwoo added in his deep vocals, a low chuckle coming from him. "Head over heels." Jihoon added. You couldn't contain yourself anymore and stepped out from behind the wall. They were sitting with their backs to you, but they could still see your reflection in the glass that separated the booth from the studio-area.

"You're what?" You asked in disbelief.

DK (Lee Seokmin) 

"Mingyu! Wanna join me in the cafeteria and get some food?" Seokmin asked as they packed their bags. They had just been at a costume fitting from their next stage-presence. Mingyu quickly agreed and zipped up his bag as well as throwing a hoodie over his bare torso. They walked the few floors down and sat down at a table, a few people sitting nearby, but nothing too bad. Everyone in the building knew to respect each other as most of them were fellow idols.

They picked up their food and got to talking, mostly about their latest comeback, and their thoughts on their own effort. Suddenly Seokmin spotted his own shirt wandering through the cafeteria and instantly recognized the female. "Hey girl! What's up?" He asked the girl passing through. She was an idol in the same company, so they had been friends for quite some time.

"I'm on my way to see Jihoon. I just got out of this horrible meeting, it was dragging on forever! I saw Seungcheol though, that was fun." She spoke, dropping down in a squat and resting her head on the edge of the table.

"You should probably bring by some coffee to cheer him up, him and Wonwoo have been struggling with a track since last night, and I don't think either of them have slept since." Mingyu pointed out, Seokmin nodding along. They spoke for a while longer before she had to leave.

"So she is seeing Jihoon, huh? I wonder when he is going to confess his undying love for her." Seokmin chuckled as he moved a noodle across his plate. Mingyu took a bite of his food before nodding, raising a napkin to his face.

"Speaking of confessing, when are you going to confess to Y/N?" He asked, catching Seokmin off guard. He had been into you since the day you first met. He had been captivated by your whole essence, so much that the very same day he had forgotten both the lyrics to the song they were recording, and the choreography.

"I'm never going to tell her, okay? She had no benefit of knowing that I am hopelessly in love with her. It will only make things weird between us." Little did Seokmin know that you were the person sitting right behind him. You had put your hood up as you were hiding from one of your managers, intentionally not greeting the two boys as they walked past you earlier, cause you managers knew you would probably be seen with one of the boys.

"You're what?" Mingyu spoke, he knew Seokmin had feelings for you, but he never knew they were so strong to the point where he would say he was in love with you. You had tried to ignore them, but the way you heart pounded against the cage of your chest left you no choice. You turned around so you were facing Mingyu's back, Seokmin looking down at his food.

"You're what?" You breathed, but it being loud enough to where Seokmin looked up faster than lightning, locking eyes with you.

Jeonghan (Yoon Junghan) 

You had never been this tired, maybe ever. You sat on the floor of the SEVENTEEN dorm, your head falling every now and then, but then shooting right back up as you fell asleep. You had been in the studio with Wonwoo and Jihoon all night, and now you were hanging out with Jeonghan in their dorm, something he had invited you to the day prior, you never anticipating you would be this tired.

"Are you okay?" Jeonghan asked as he looked over at you. You had been doing what you always did when you hung out, listening to music and talking smack. He did notice you had been quite out of it today, but he decided not to comment on it, not until now that is.

"I was up all night with at the studio." You confessed, Jeonghans face instantly melting into one of understanding. He asked if you wanted to take a nap, to which you said no- you wanted to be awake with him.

"You weirdo, we can hang out when you wake up, okay? Now lay down." He instructed. You eventually nodded and laid down on their beyond comfortable couch. You were positioned so you were facing the back-rest of the couch, not wanting people to look at you while you slept. After a few seconds, you felt a soft and warm blanket being placed over you and tucked in at your sides. You smiled at the gesture, your eyes still closed. Not long after, you drifted off to sleep.

Jeonghan laid down on the floor next to the couch and scrolled through his phone. He laid like that for about an hour before the door slammed open, and then shut. "Hey, Jeongh-" Seungcheol started, but he was soon cut off by the mentioned as he hushed him. Jeonghan then violently pointed to your sleeping body. Seungcheol quietly apologized and looked over at you, seeing your breathing was still steady and deep, he assumed it didn't wake you. Jeonghan did the same, you had been pretty tired after all, so you would probably be able to sleep through a storm.

"What's up?" Jeonghan asked as he and Seungcheol sat down on the middle of the floor, so they weren't right next to you anymore. "Hansol sent me this absolute treasure-chest of a video." He chuckled, handing Jeonghan an earbud and they then watched the video. In summary, it was Joshua sitting in a car, talking on the phone in a panicked manner, while Seungkwan sat in the backseat freaking out about something incomprehensible.

They chuckled, and then sparked a conversation, it starting when Jeonghan found himself looking at your sleeping self. You looked so peaceful and small.

"Still whipped for her?" Seungcheol asked, Jeonghan not moving his eyes as he answered. "Crazy about her. I'm genuinely infatuated with her whole self, I don't know what to do, man." He confessed. He had been in love with you for the past few months, and he had no idea what to do. He tried to make it go away, but he couldn't. You were his best friend, and seeing you, hanging out with you, talking with you every single day, didn't help whatsoever.

Jeonghan finally turned to Seungcheol who was looking at him. "Is it just a crush, you think?" He asked. A valid question, but Jeonghan shook his head no. "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her." He spoke softly, Seungcheols eyebrows almost jumping off his face as he raised them. "You what?"

A new voice soon spoke, one that made the two boys flip their head towards the source. You. "You're in love with me?" You asked.

Seungkwan (Boo Seungkwan)

The car ride was calm. Seungkwan, Hansol and Joshua had been out and getting some things for the dorm, one of their managers being ever so kind and offering to drive them. Seungkwan had been texting his bandmate Soonyoung, going back and forth about some weird thing they had both experienced on stage.

hosh: Right?! I ate shit falling off the stage where we performed last week!!

kwan: I did too, exactly same place as you, but why tf didn't anyone else fall? we all walked there at one point, did we not???

hosh: i have no idea, but i'm lucky Y/N was there to ice my elbow after, she is such a sweetheart.

kwan: tell me about it.. i'm this close to injuring myself on purpose so she can take care of me..

Seungkwan looked out the window for a second after responding. Just the mention of your name made his stomach explode in butterflies, and he had no idea how he time and time again kept so calm when he was actually around you.

hosh: yeah, i had forgotten about your little crush, sorry- how's that going by the way?

kwan: i think it's more than a little crush bro..

Seungkwan didn't like to admit it, not to himself, nor anyone else, but he was moonstruck when it came to you. He just couldn't get enough. It was something about the way you spoke to him, or to anyone in general. How you were so kind and respectful, and the way you carried yourself, and how you looked at him- he could go on for days.

hosh: what do you mean?

Seungkwan let his fingers float over the keyboard of his phone before he quickly typed the sentence he up until now had refused to admit to himself.

kwan: i'm in love with Y/N

Just saying it to his good friend via text was hard to do. You were out of his league and he knew it, that's why he didn't bother doing anything with it- it wasn't like his feelings would be reciprocated.

hosh: code RED

hosh: fucken coDE BLACK

hosh: CODE SHIT

Seungkwan was confused as the messages from Soonyoung came pouring in. He re-read his own message, and that's when he saw it.

Read by hosh, Y/N

His eyes then flew up to the top of his screen.

groupchat

hosh + 1 more

Soonyoung's picture had been at the front, so he hadn't realized he had sent it in the groupchat with you three.

You on the other hand was sitting on the floor of the dorm kitchen, your hand clasped over your mouth as it had dropped open. Seungkwan was in love with you, and he had accidentally told you via text in a groupchat.

Y/N: you're in love with me?

Joshua (Hong Jisoo) 

"Seungkwan, calm down! What's going on?" Hansol spoke as soon as it looked like Seungkwan was having a seizure in the backseat. He was freaking out over some text he sent. After a few minutes Joshua and Hansol gave up on calming him down, so Hansol just whipped out his phone to record him.

"I accidentally told her I like her!" Was the first thing Seungkwan said that could be understood as actual words. Hansol then stopped the recording, typing away on his phone, but while still talking to Joshua.

"Speaking of telling a girl you like them; ever going to tell Y/N you're in love with her?" Hansol asked. Joshua's breath hitched as his friend spoke. Was never an acceptable answer? He almost told you last month, but as he was about to spit out the words, your manager had come into the room. After that he swore off ever telling you- even though you were his dream girl. You were funny, and charming, kind and respectful, and you had a way of carrying yourself that he just couldn't fathom was real.

"As much as I want to, and boy do I want to- I'm never gonna tell her. She is so out of my league, and we both know that. She is so wow, and I'm so.. well, not that." Joshua spoke all while Seungkwan was still freaking out, and Hansol finished up typing. He sent the video before he looked up at his friend who had just dished his feelings out on a platter for him to enjoy.

Joshua felt his phone go off in a notification, pulling it out of his coat to see what it was, he felt his heart drop.

PHONE CALL

Y/N

6:37

You had been on the call for almost seven minutes. You sat on the chair of your dorm kitchen, having spoken to a fellow idol for a while before you decided to call you best friend and ask him about something you were discussing that you knew Joshua would know the answer to.

Before you knew it, you heard Seungkwan scream about some gibberish in the background, the audio a bit messed up. After Joshua dropped his phone in some salt-water a few weeks ago, it had been messing up every now and then- sometimes it would just accept the incoming call without notifying. You were about to hang up and try again when you heard your name.

"..; ever going to tell Y/N you're in love with her?" The familiar voice of Hansol spoke, catching you off guard. He was in love with you? Joshua was in love with you.

After a few more minutes, it seemed he finally realized his phone was active, cause after some scratching of the audio and a gasp, you heard Joshua's voice clearly.

"Y/N?" He spoke softly.

"You're in love with me?"

Hope you like it! Feel free to request more x

-bentley

[drkcnry67]

Title: your demons are my darkness

Pairing: Dark!John x Demon blood!Sam x Reader/ eventual Dean x Reader

Kink: Gangbang

Dark: Dark!John

Heaven & Hell: Demon Blood!Sam

created for @spnkinkbingo @heavenandhellbingo @spndarkbingo​

A/N: This will be a really tough thing for me to write again this is the territory that I seem to find my passion expanding more... Once more if you like this please give it a like and a reblog and if you have any questions or comments please feel free to send me a message.

Tags: forced vaginal penetration, forced anal penetration, screaming, crying, choking from gagging, magical mind melding sex, bad ass escape skills,  forced oral sex, gagging, puking from gagging, impregnation, male dick in male ass 

****THIS STORY IS 18+ DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE... SERIOUSLY THIS WILL GIVE YOU NIGHTMARES... THIS IS PERHAPS THE DARKEST STORY I HAVE EVER WRITTEN!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED****

Kink masterlist. H&H masterlist. Dark masterlist.

You are a huntress, you had lived all over. While living in Greece several years ago you were walking in the countryside, you came across a temple.

Normally you weren't the religious type but today you felt drawn to the temple. You turned to the goddess Artemis for guidence.

Unbeknown to you at that moment that the actual goddess herself would come to speak with you in person.

Artemis: "child, you are blessed with a gift from the gods. I'm Artemis and I have heard your prayers my child. You have found favor under me by which I bestow to you the daggers of Olympus. These daggers grant you the powers of the 12 main Olympians. Use them in your quest to vanquish the demons that haunt this realm. Remember child yell when your holding the daggers & blessings will befall you. Now go home, your next quest is waiting for you. Remember this name: Winchester!"

YN: "Artemis thank you I go now under the guidence of the gods."

You left and boarded the next possible flight. You remembered what Artemis had said, the daggers became bracelets, you arrived home to discover your only hope of retrieving your weapons cache, was to somehow knock out the 2 guys that showed up just before you did.

You overheard their conversation it went something like this:

John: "look Sam I don't pretend to understand what your going through but you can't speak to your brother the way you did & you certainly as hell don't get to speak to me that way either."

At that moment it was unclear to John what was happening. He went to move but felt his darkness rise up once more.

This made your hunting senses go haywire, you tried to ninja your way passed them using the cover of darkness, but they spotted you..

Dark!John: "hey Sam look over here son!"

Demon Blood!Sam: "well well let's play with her shall we?"

Dark!John: "let's get away from here first then we shall have some fun with her."

Both guys were immediately by your sides they knocked you out. by the time you woke up again tied to a bed.

Dark!John: “oh good you’re awake, we were afraid you would sleep through all the fun!”

YN: “who are you?”

Demon Blood !Sam: “have you ever heard the name of Winchester?”

thats when Artemis’ words rang through your mind... 

YN: “you’re what my mentor warned me about. let me go... what do you intend to do with me?” 

Dark!John: “we intend to fuck you into the middle of next week unloading our dark semen into you, little girl. we will begin in just a few moments.”

John and Sam left the area, you struggled against your binds, your next move was to pray to Artemis.

YN: “Artemis Goddess of the Hunt, freeze time in my stay, come now to speak with me.”

in that moment, time stopped as Artemis appeared.

Artemis: “what has happened my child?”

YN: “those 2 goons over there go by the last name of Winchester. please o great & humble Artemis send me salvation for i know i cannot fight what is about to happen.”

Artemis: “not to worry child ill see what i can do...”

in that moment as fast as she had come, she was gone.. you sat in wait, fearing neigh dreading what was gonna happen to you, loosing the barrier of your innocence is something that has always kept you from falling too far in love... 

you retreated to your safe haven, to your inner mind, now you werent paying any attention , you knew you would eventually come back to reality but for right then you were perfectly happy living in your magic.

the rumors surrounding the winchester name were true... but un-beknown to you, your salvation would soon involve another winchester. Meanwhile Artemis was having a discussion with her “brother” Ares.

Artemis: “its time bro, you need to share your powers with the other chosen by the Gods. it is the only way to save my prospect.”

Ares: “chill out sis, who is the lucky person to inherit my gifts?”

Artemis: “dean Winchester.”

Ares: “come with me sister. this will go alot smoother if your by my side..”

Artemis: “very well brother...”

both ares and artemis went on their way to see the better of the winchester line. they appeared scaring the living daylights out of Dean whose reaction was to pull out the handheld, aiming it at Ares and Artemis.

Ares takes a few steps forward now standing directly in front of Dean rolls his eyes.

Ares: “bro put that down... trust me boy your the only solution but your gonna have to act fast...”

Dean lowered his gun at the ringing of Ares’ words...

Dean: “what are you talking about? who are you?”

Artemis: “Dean, you’re one of those chosen by the Gods of Olympus... Ares beside me here is going to give you access to his power as well as that of the 12 main Olympians.”

Dean sat down on the edge of his bed, the expression of shock clear cross his face.

Dean: “well if the dude is Ares, who does that make you sweetheart?”

Artemis: “i am Artemis Goddess of the Hunt... Dean do you accept the charges that Ares will provide to you?”

Dean: “of course but why are you guys just approaching me now?”

Ares: “cause your time to awaken is now, your partner from the Gods is in serious trouble. Dean, you have found favor within me, i bestow to you now the dual swords of Olympus, they will turn into Gauntlets when you arent in battle. the swords will grant you the powers of the Gods. now your task is to go and find one called YN, she is a huntress & your chosen partner. your father & brother are the ones that have her.”

Dean’s eyes went wide with shock and a bit of anger...

Dean: “where is she? how do i reach her?”

Artemis: “we will show you where but once there you must hurry for if they impregnate her, the apocalypse will start. Both you & YN are the 2 people both set to start the apocalypse as well as start it. her getting filled with dark sperm is the first seal broken, this must not be allowed to happen. once you rescue her you have to call our names & we will get you away from there. they havent climaxed yet they havent even started fucking her yet, but they are about to start... i know this cause im connected to her. Dean are you prepared to fight your own family?”

Dean: “im prepared to do what is necessary to save my partner...”

back at what you assumed to be some sort of a motel or hotel room.

YN: “look okay you guys really dont want to do this.. ive got very very powerful friends.”

Dark!John: “shut up you stupid bitch... take what we are gonna give you and like it...”

John came up to your pussy first running his finger through your folds before replacing his finger with his cock. you struggled, you knew what was about to happen... but you felt powerless at that moment to stop it... 

Sam came up to your mouth and started to slap your face with his cock... this went on for several moments before he tried to make you gag on his fingers, you ended up gagging but you bit him in the process... 

Demon Blood!Sam: “why you little bitch... thats it... Dad you can take her virginity im gonna teach this bitch not to bite people...”

Dark!John: “if your not ready for me by now sweetheart your not gonna have a choice now...”

before you could come back with your remark, Sam shoved his Cock in your mouth, thrusting in and out holding position making your eyes water and causing you to gag. you were only given a 1 second breathing period between gagging sessions. 

after the first 5 gagging sessions Sam was laughing so hard amused by your gagging that he didnt even realize that you threw up on his cock right away... he noticed it when John spoke out...

Dark!John: “okay bitch this is for throwing up on my sons cock...”

at that moment your eyes went wide, you let out an earth shattering scream as John thrust himself hard into your pussy breaking past the barrier of your innocence. 

Demon Blood!Sam: “okay bitch, clean my cock...”

Sam then stuck his cock back in your mouth, puke and all... this made it even harder to take in... you threw up multiple times after that... John didnt care that you were bleeding a bit, that soon stopped when your pussy started to form to John... 

you screamed between gags, you were crying and choking and barely breathing... you only hoped that your salvation would soon arrive and that your powers would not show, for the darkness must not contact the light... you retreated into your mental space only partially to keep up the gagging and noises... 

Artemis was now in a similar but not state of shock over what she was feeling from you, she knew you had retreated to your safe space... 

Artemis: “omg we dont have alot of time, YN is growing weak... if they impregnate her they will... wait a moment thats it... as soon as you have eyes on YN you need to mind meld with her, your powers are linked, it will allow you to meet her and to mentally fuck her.”

Dean: “im sorry what... mentally fuck her... what the fuck does that mean?”

Artemis: “ill explain before i send you in... lets go...”

Dean stood up in time to be transported with Ares and Artemis just outside of a warehouse district.

Dean: “explain please...”

Ares: “basically long story short you and YN can fuck in your shared mental space and what ever transpires in there climax wise will transpire in reality. meaning if you cum inside her in your shared mind, it will cancel any dark energy they would be putting into her in reality.”

Dean: “and all i have to do is connect to YN...”

Artemis: “yes she is in her mental space now... but the guys are close to releasing into her... you have about an hour at best before they release... once in the mental scape time will speed up... so make sure you stay out of sight till yours and YN’s roles are done in the mental space... Ares and I will wait here for you to call our names and we will pull you both out.”

Dean stared at the building behind him searching it with his powers trying to get a lock on you... finally after a few moments Dean was no longer in front of Ares and Artemis but instead was high in the rafters of one of the buildings in the district... 

he looked down and saw you, his father and his brother. he got into a position where he was sure that he wasnt gonna fall or anything and while keeping you in sight. he channeled his inner powers and went deep into a state of mind where hopefully he would find you...

entering the joining point he saw something in the distance that he could only assume had to be you. Dean then figured he had better look the part of “not here to hurt you” or anything look peaceful while still hot and sexy... 

indeed the form he had seen was you, sitting on the ground with your knees tight to your chest, knowing that you were at this point helpless to stop what was happening outside... thats when your powers sparked, making you turn around...

YN: “who are you?”

Dean: “im Dean Winchester... yes in unfortunate relation to the ones who are currently giving you your current predicament. but at the same time im the good one. i threw away my darkness a long time ago.. i never looked back. im the other chosen by the Gods of Olympus with Ares as my guide. our patrons wait outside this building for us... but we have to do something first to counteract whats happening outside.”

YN: “what do we have to do? what can we do we are in here they are out there defiling my body... they stole my innocence... they took the thing that kept me from loosing my sanity...”

Dean: “Artemis said that what we do in here in the form of sex, the only thing that will stay as a permenant to your outside form is the climax that i unload into you in here... that will stop them from releasing their darkness inside of you and breaking the first seal of the apocalypse.”

YN: “Dean i trust you to get us out of this mess safely and when we get back to our physical forms i shall like to explore more of what we can be together slowly.”

Dean helps you stand his clothes falling off of him, his arms lift you high softly and gently placing you on his cock. being thrust by Dean made you feel different, like it was meant to be, like this was destined.

Ares: “did they just.?.”

Artemis: “its happening... lets be ready to pull them out... there is only 10 minutes left out here but to them it will feel like mere hours.”

Ares: “lets hope the speed of the Gods makes their work alot faster.”

Artemis: “i hope your right brother.”

Dean was speeding up alot faster than normal, he then remembered about his powers. they were still kicking in, well he now had the speed of Hermes and man was he putting it to good use. 

Dean (out of breath): “squirt for me baby! i can tell your almost there... by my time count so am i and so are they... squirt for me baby... Ares, Artemis be ready to pull us out with clothes on, we are almost there...”

you were now in a half mental and half physical state so John and Sam could hear the earth shattering orgasmic scream you let out the second you climaxed, Dean, John and Sam also climaxed... you spat out the seman right back at Sam and vomited immediately. 

your magic was working to expell the darkness from your body... Dean was also back in his own body... for he then smiled lightly...

Dean: “Ares great God of War, Artemis Goddess of the Hunt pull our asses out. and someplace far way.”

within seconds you and dean were whisked away but Ares decided to teach John and Sam a lesson so he used his power to make them ready to cum again but placed them on the bed where John was about to unload into Sam’s ass and Sam all over John... 

Ares stayed to leave a creepy voice over.

Ares (thundering voice from above): “if either of you morons ever think about contacting that girl or your other family member again i will personally deliever you both to the firey gates of tartarus myself for the dark tretchery you have caused.”

you and Dean suddenly found yourselves in a room, one unlike that of which either of you had ever seen. there was a knock on the wall making both of you look up.

Artemis: “welcome to Olympus... i’m sure you both have lots of questions. let me be the first to say congratulations. but that is news for after a few words from Zeus...”

both you and Dean got down and Bowed before the king of the Gods. looking up at Zeus who smiled and gestured for both you and Dean to rise.

Zeus: “YN & Dean, i am delighted to meet those chosen by Artemis and Ares. i hope you will find this quarters to your liking. dont worry Artemis and Ares will go in a while to collect your possessions from earth. when you both are up to it i would like to discuss a few terms and oaths with you both. but right now with what you both have been through you both need to rest. Artemis and Ares wont be far, the grounds are extensive but are free to roam. no boundaries or secrets. i also recommend the hot spring it has healing properties. for now rest. we are delighted to have you both up on Olympus with us. please dont hesitate to ask questions, welcome to the family.”

with those words Zeus was gone. Artemis stuck robes and towels and things like that in the wardrobe.

Artemis: “dont worry YN when your better we will go buy many of the necessities for you from the best shops this side of greece. but i agree with father as much as it pains me too, you both need to rest. everything else can be put on hold for as long as you need to feel normal again.”

you both bow slightly as she leaves and a tinted glass door closes behind her and a couple of curtains fall over the door and the windows. this left you and Dean completely alone.

Dean: “are you okay?”

YN: “no.”

Dean: “do you feel like talking about it?”

YN: “not really..”

Dean: “lay with me on the bed we dont have to do anything but at least let me hold you.”

you nod as you feel the tears return to your eyes. flowing freely, yours and deans once clothed forms now lay bare covered by one single silk sheet, now cuddled together to rest from the events that took place that one awful fated day.

[panharmonium]

For Want of a Woodwright (Part 4)

aaaand we’re back with another slice of AU nonsense! 

(parts 1-3 can be found here; original idea is courtesy of this awesome anon ask)

today’s installment is gift-fic for @ragtag-band-of-murderers, whose generous reading and commenting last week brought me such joy and truly helped me in the midst of a tough moment.  here’s a little ficlet for you, my friend - featuring a bird’s-eye view of the city, more of our fave dudes just being themselves, and a minor reference to something you already read <3

THANK YOU, as always, to everyone who’s having fun playing in this sandbox with me - i hope you enjoy some more of the boys being alive and well in the Good Timeline :D

as before, the same disclaimer applies: this is VERY rough, not meticulously edited, and not even remotely close to a final draft.  it is hardly even a first draft, in fact.  the snippets in this series are not necessarily connected to each other, or in order, or part of any actual coherent plot, and they do not directly adhere to the plan laid out in lovely anon’s original post, either; they are just snapshots of images that refused to remain unillustrated once they’d occurred to me :)

with that said, if you’re looking for more AU fun (thank you again, anon, for this ‘verse!), hit the jump!

4. solid ground

Merlin drummed his boots against the wall beneath him, the stone battlements on either side of him providing some stability for his precarious perch atop the parapet.

From his seated position inside one of the inner curtain wall’s crenels, Merlin could see the entirety of the lower town, and the outer curtain encircling the urban crush, and the Sprawl beyond, a haphazard collection of settlements outside the reach of the city walls, the Crown’s cultivated fields and pastures transforming finally into wilderness, where the land was swallowed by forest.  Directly below, the King’s Works were in full swing, the framing yard at the base of the inner curtain a picture of hustle and bustle, numerous craftsmen unloading heavy timber from a caravan of carts lined up just beside the gate to the upper ward.  A number of other beams were laid out upon the cleared earth in a predetermined pattern, and something vaguely recognizable as a pair of roof supports appeared to have already been joined together at the other end of the yard.  

Merlin had been in the city long enough to know that once the beams for this mystery structure had been measured, cut, and framed, they would be disassembled and carted off to wherever the desired building was to be erected, but he could not have explained in any detail the specific tasks taking place down below.  One worker was marking some of the timbers with chalk symbols just as indecipherable to Merlin as the runes Gaius had recently set him to studying.  Another fellow was chipping away at a beam using something that wasn’t quite pointy enough on either end to be a pickaxe.  Two others appeared to be having some kind of animated argument over a set of timbers that looked all right to Merlin, but mustn’t have been, judging by the amount of arm-waving and indecipherable shouting taking place below.

Will probably could have told Merlin more about it, but Will had not climbed into the crenel.  He stood at Merlin’s back instead, staring determinedly ahead at the distant horizon, as opposed to peering down at the framing yard’s frantic scurry of activity.  

“High up, this,” Will said.

“Saddlegap’s higher.”

“Saddlegap’s up the side of a mountain, though,” Will muttered, his eyes firmly fixed on absolutely nothing.  “Not straight up, like.”  He drummed his fingers nervously on the sharp cut of the raised battlement.  “Never been up anywhere like this.”

Merlin looked at Will, fighting a sudden, surprised urge to laugh.  “Are you afraid of heights?”

“No!” Will retorted, instantly grouchy.  He redirected his gaze - with discernible difficulty, Merlin couldn’t help but note - down to the framing yard, where a pair of tiny figures in brown and white were rolling a log over to a deep depression in the earth.  Once suspended over the hole, the log could be sliced down the middle using a lengthy pit saw.  

Merlin hid a smile.  “Come and sit with me, then.”

Will looked nauseated, though he wiped his face clean of any such expression quickly.  “I’m not sitting in there.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no room.”

Merlin scooted as far over as he could, leaving a space between himself and the merlon to his right.  “There’s plenty.  Come in.”

“I’m not coming in there.”

“Just admit you’re afeared of the drop - ”

“I am not,” Will declared, and to prove it, he climbed into the crenel alongside Merlin, wedging himself into the space between Merlin’s side and the raised masonry of the merlon to their right, sitting there with his feet dangling in the air, upper body squashed between Merlin on one side and solid stone on the other.

Will’s frame was as stiff and unyielding as the log being hewn down below.  Merlin nudged him with an elbow.  “You see?  It’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad,” Will echoed through gritted teeth.  “Right.  You’re cracked, Merlin.”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Merlin decided not to pursue the potential truth behind that statement, for all that it made him itch.  

Later.  

They could talk about it later.

Instead, he changed the subject, and pointed at a section of the lower town, where there was a dark gap in the layered patchwork of thatched roofs.  “We had a fire over there, the other week.”

Will was not really looking.  He appeared intently focused on a cloud floating at exactly the level of his eyes.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Little one.  Not so bad.  But now I can’t get pies from that fellow’s shop anymore, and that’s rotten luck, because they’re really tasty.”

“What sort?” Will asked, resolutely inspecting his cloud.  “Meat or fruit?”

“All sorts.  You’ve never seen so many pies in your life.  I’d have got you one if I could.”

Will shrugged in his best ‘life is like that’ way.  “Gods rest the pie man.”

“He’s not dead!” 

“Oh.”  

“Gods forbid, Will.”

Will rolled his eyes.  “Sorry, Merlin.  Didn’t realize you were so attached to the man who made your breakfast - ”

“He’s just closed down for a bit.  We’ll have him up and running again soon enough.”

“‘We’ who?”  

“Everybody loves the pie man, Will.  It’s a neighborhood effort, rebuilding him.”

Will tried valiantly to inspect the spot Merlin had pointed at, though his cheeks paled the moment he registered just how far down the pie man’s plot was situated relative to their own spot on top of the wall.  “Bad timing for it,” he said, averting his eyes after only a brief glance.  “For you.”

“Is it?”

Will pointed at the countryside beyond the Sprawl.  “Apples coming in and all.”

“Oof,” Merlin said, never having considered this fact.  “You’re right.”

Will smiled faintly.  “Apple season and no pie man to make Merlin’s favorites.  What’s a poor sorcerer to do?”

Merlin shrugged, affecting an abjectly mournful weariness.  “Die.”

Will snorted.

“Apple pie is serious business, Will.”

“Deadly serious.”

“Obviously.”  Merlin sighed and stretched out his legs over the drop, letting them fall back against the wall with a thunk.  “I’ll nick a few apples for myself, I suppose.  The Crown’s got orchards aplenty.  I’m no hand in the bakehouse - ”

“Too right - ”

“ - but I’ll trade a favor with Gwen, maybe; I reckon she knows what she’s about.”

“Who?”

“Gwen.  You met Gwen.”

“Which one was she?”

“The one in servant’s garb.  She’s got brown skin, curly hair to about here?” 

Will nodded.  Merlin searched the mottled sea of rooftops for Gwen’s house.  Just down the lane from her cottage, smoke rose over the forge, a cloud of fumes that never truly dissipated, even after nightfall.  The smell hung in the air day in and day out, clinging to the straw in the street and the wooden struts of the surrounding structures.  Even the building itself continued to radiate vestiges of heat long after Tom and his crew had gone home for the evening.  

“I think you’d get on with her,” Merlin ventured.  “Gwen’s lovely.  She’s the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?”  Will’s reply was some mix of absent and unconvinced.

“Yeah.  I mean, she’s nicer than you, anyhow.”

“Mm.”

“Not that that’s a particularly high bar to step over.”

“Thanks, Merlin.”

Merlin hesitated.  “Maybe I could introduce you to each other.”

“We’ve already met.”

“No, you haven’t, not properly.  You didn’t even remember who she was.”

“I remembered her.  I just didn’t know her name, is all.”

“Well, you didn’t talk to her or anything.”

“Why would I talk to her?  I don’t know her.”

Merlin squirmed in his seat, self-conscious.  “I don’t know.  I just think you’d like her.  She’s not...”  He gestured vaguely behind them, past the slope of the wealthier upper wards and back to the citadel proper.  “You know, she’s not silly like that sort.  She’s plain folk, like us.”

Will was staring straight ahead, past the crowded mess of the lower town and out to the country, beyond the Sprawl’s creeping expanse of civilization.  It was a clear enough day that one could see the hazy jut of the mountains looming in the distance, and - in Merlin’s imagination, at least - the border was there, too, and their home just beyond that, hidden in the foothills, nestled in a little valley behind the White Mountains’ far-reaching roots.

“Gwen helped me a lot when I first came here,” Merlin said.  “Taught me loads.”

“I’m sure she’s brilliant, Merlin,” murmured Will, his eyes locked on the horizon.

“I just thought since you’re here - ”  Merlin stopped himself, sitting up a bit straighter.  “I mean, not that you’re here-here, obviously; but - just staying, you know, not that you’re staying-staying, or anything, just - ”  Merlin forced himself to take a deep breath and exhale, unlocking his fingers from where they’d wound themselves into a knot.  “Since you’re here just now, I mean.  I just.  Thought maybe it would be good, you know.  For you to know some people.”

“I don’t think your friend there wants to know me, Merlin.”

“Why not?”

Will raised his eyebrows.  “She thinks I have magic, doesn’t she?”

“That’s - ”  Merlin faltered momentarily.  “It’s just Gwen, I mean, she’s - you’re my friend.  It wouldn’t matter.”

Will gave Merlin a skeptical look.  “Why haven’t you told her your secret, then?”

Merlin opened his mouth, then closed it again.  The breeze curling through the gap of the crenel was chilly, raising goosebumps on his arms.  

Will shook his head and returned his gaze to the mountains.  “Look, Merlin...if it really didn’t matter, she’d already know.  Let’s not court trouble, all right?  We’re in enough of that as it is.”

“You don’t have to be,” Merlin said, after a brief pause.  “You could go.”

Will did not reply, staring at the White Mountain like he was trying to climb it with his eyes.  Merlin wondered what he was thinking, Will with his closed mouth and his set jaw and his inscrutable frowns.  Did he wish he were back there?  Did he wish he hadn’t left in the first place?

Merlin shifted on the cramped crenel, but there was nowhere for him to go.  “I just thought...it might be good, you know.  For you.  To make friends.

“I’ve got enough friends, Merlin.”

“You’ve only got me.”

“That’s what I said.”

The line of Merlin’s body where it pressed against Will was very warm.  

So was Merlin’s face.  

Merlin was glad suddenly that there was no space on either side of them for either of them to scoot away.  He relaxed where he sat, solid stone on one side and solid Will on the other, the two of them squished and snug against each other in their shared seat.

Will’s frame was hard as a rock, though.  Merlin looked down at Will’s hands, one of which was fisted on his knees and the other of which was wrapped, white-knuckled, around the corner of the battlement.  

“You really don’t like it up here, do you?” Merlin asked, a surprised smile spreading over his face. 

“Hate it,” Will burst out immediately, with a vehement gust of relief.  “It’s wretched.  I can’t believe you’ve got me sitting up here, Merlin; of all the daft, foolheaded places for a person to be - ”

“We can get down,” Merlin laughed, climbing back over onto the walkway.  He wrapped a hand in the fabric of Will’s mantle and jostled him lightly.  “Go on, lean forward.  You’ll get to the bottom quick as anything.”

Will gave Merlin a dirty look and scooted himself very painstakingly out of the crenel, back onto the safety of the ramparts.  

Merlin, hands on his hips, evaluated Will with newfound curiosity.  “And here I thought I knew everything there was to know about you.”

“I’m not afraid of heights, Merlin,” Will said, turning to stride along the line of the wall toward one of the towers that would take them back to the ground.  

“Don’t get tetchy,” Merlin said, following him.  “Everyone’s afraid of something.”

“You’d know.”

Merlin did not argue.  Will, for all his formidable powers of perception, hardly knew how true his statement was - Merlin found something new to be afraid of every day, it seemed, now that he was in Camelot.  

“I’d never let you fall off, you know,” Merlin said, tugging open the door to the tower, the creaking hinges echoing down the darkened spiral stair within.

“Oh, aye?”

“Aye, so,” Merlin replied, ushering Will onto the staircase and nodding to a guard headed up in the opposite direction.  “And if you did fall, I’d catch you.”

“You would not,” Will scoffed.  “You’ve never caught anything so big in your life.”

“Not yet.  But I can do all sorts of new things now; I haven’t shown you hardly anything.  Gaius gave me this book - ”

Will groaned.  “Oh, Lugh, Merlin, no.  Not another book.”

“A great big one,” Merlin grinned.  

“Gods alive,” Will muttered.  “This again.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”  Merlin’s grin widened as he tripped his way down the stairs.  “Gaius has all sorts of books, dozens of them; well, you’ve been in his chambers, you already know - and he tosses them all over like it’s nothing; it’s mad; it’s like he doesn’t even care.  Most of them are physician’s texts, I mean, and that’s interesting enough, I suppose, but there’s more, Will, on the lower levels; there’s an entire library; it goes on forever, it’s got everything, it’s - what are you doing?  Where are you going?

Will had turned around and was heading back up the stairs.  He jerked his thumb upwards.  “Back.”

“What for?”

Will did not look round at Merlin, but continued to trudge determinedly up the stairs.  “I’ve decided to take the quick way down after all.”

Merlin snorted and snagged Will’s sleeve in his fingers.  Will, pulling away, put up a valiant show of resistance.  “Just let me jump, Merlin.  I can’t survive another round of this book nonsense.”

“Not on your life.  I’m not spending an evening scraping you off the paving stones.”

Will gave up and allowed himself to be pulled down the stairs, but his face wore the dark, surly look of a man marching to his own execution.  “If you try to read me anything, I’m crawling out your window.”

“Bit high up, that,” Merlin remarked mildly, “for a fellow who’s just discovered he’s afeared of heights.”

“I am not afeared of heights,” Will snapped.  Then, in his most stubborn tone, he added, “The higher the better.  I don’t want to suffer.”

Merlin laughed.  “You might’ve thought on that before you went running off to Camelot, William.”

Will’s face changed slightly.  “Aye, so,” he replied, a touch of something grim in his voice.  “So might you have done, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Merlin bit his tongue on an uncertain reply and shoved Will out the door at the base of the tower, out of the stuffy shadows of the staircase, into an overbright, sunlit afternoon.  

Later, Merlin thought, chivvying Will across what was supposed to be solid ground, though Merlin wasn’t sure, now, if they had really made it to the bottom, after all, for all that there was grass and good earth under their feet.

They could talk about it later.  

[canaryatlaw]

OKAY LET’S WRITE. Today was not bad. Up at 8:45 for 9 am court as usual, I had to wait a little longer than lately to get in but when the coordinator came back they were like oh yeah there was an emergency to deal with but we’ll send you in right now which was nice, they’ve definitely been giving me priority lately which is very nice after weeks of waiting until noon for my 9 am case to be called (if they got to it before lunch that is of course). We’ll see what happens tomorrow because they’ll be at least 2 other parties on the line, my client is coming and we’re pretty certain the dude will show, but I have no idea if he’s gonna bring a lawyer or not (though at this point I would guess not, which makes my life easier) so I guess we’ll have to see what happens there. but yeah, court was fine, super quick. I was going to try to see if I could nap again because I wasn’t on call or have any other immediate tasks, but I did have a good bit of work to get done, so I stayed up and did that. I did get distracted for a solid amount of time though writing a very thorough, multi-paragraph with all sources cited facebook comment on a political issue, which is rare for me, because I generally try not to start fights on other people’s posts, I mean if you want to come on my post and try to fight I will happily pummel you into the ground, but I’m not gonna go around starting fights, if they’re really bad I’ll hide them from my news feed, which I’ve had to do with quite of few of my parents friends who have now friended me because I was the source of communication for everything with my dad. anyway. the post was by my high school English teacher, who I happen to like and respect quite a bit (I’ll never forget when they’d graded our state mandated tests over winter break, and she was so excited me and a guy friend had gotten 100s that she told us over facebook instead of having to wait till break was over. She was fun like that.) She’d reposted some diatribe about a “former liberal” now being on Trump’s side after stating a bunch of things about the “main stream media” twisting Trump’s words and such but she provided no sources or anything, and she had just stated she found the post interesting, and it got under my skin enough for someone I really respect posting things I know are false that I ended up spending way too long crafting a comment with each point cited from a source that was outside “MSM” and just being like look, I don’t want to start a fight here, I would just like her to have the information. She commented back a bit later saying something I wasn’t terribly satisfied with (like more focused on people switching sides and she’d read through the links but didn’t trust much from the media, and I was just like....yeah you definitely missed half the point there, but I’m not going to bother replying and potentially actually starting an argument. Interestingly enough, this evening a friend of hers replied to my comment regarding the child separation policies at the border that I had mentioned, and she’d had first hand experience with family in Mexico and all the horrors she’s seen. and like, I pivoted so hard from “politics are important and I must give my opinion” to “oh forget that please talk to me about child welfare I care about that so much more” 😂 so we had a pleasant and informative discussion about that that I was satisfied with. BUT ANYWAY. I had plenty of work to do so I kept doing it and not much else, up until 2 when I had a call scheduled with this client. without giving away details, this guy is stalking her like nuts and it makes me so mad to hear (I mean it always makes me mad to hear these things, but when I’ve like, interacted and spoken with the person like I have so much more contempt for them when I hear about the awful shit they’re doing). So we were brainstorming some things for that and I think we came up with a good plan going forward. After that I actually jumped onto another call that wasn’t strictly work, as I’ve said before my super awesome church is starting a justice center project that mostly revolves around attorneys giving legal advice and helping low-income people have access to legal services, so of course as soon as I heard about this I jumped on so fast, and today I had a check in call with one of the guys helping run it, who I actually knew from volunteering with the babies/kids, him and his wife are both awesome lawyers and great friends, so it was nice to get to speak to him a bit to catch up and get some more clarity on what’s happening going forward, so as of now I’m set to shadow someone doing a shift (this is all virtual right now ofc) next Friday and start on have my first one on Saturday, so that’s exciting. but right, work. I continued to work for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening because I had a lot to do and felt a lot less anxious about these things if I just went ahead and got them done. I eventually stopped around 7:30, there’s still a few things I need to do but I can figure them out tomorrow. Tomorrow’s court case is slightly more complicated than the ones I’ve had lately, but it’s nothing crazy so I’m not concerned. And yeah, once I finished work I basically watched Fresh Off the Boat for the rest of the night and relaxed while looking at pinterest recipes trying to figure out a dinner recipe that featured the few vegetables I have at the moment, and also only require the ingredients I already have, so that was a lot of searching, but I came up with a few to choose between now, hopefully for dinner tomorrow. and yeah, a bit after 11 I decided to shut the tv off, and proceed to shower and start to get ready for bed and now I’m here and it’s almost 2:30 am and I have to be awake for court and I’m on call for the hotline so there’s basically zero chance I can take a nap tomorrow, so for all those reasons I’m signing off here. Goodnight loves. Happy Friday (whatever it brings for you).