#you can even call her pushy but reckless???

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

So your opinion on Sokeefe and Fitz like YES EXACTLY. .... What are your opinions on the contents of Keefe's character itself?

Tehe thank you <3

I'm SO glad that post was well received, because I was sweating BULLETS.

To preface this post, I must admit I have been a Fitz girlie since day one. A lot of my issues with Keefe stem from the WAY he is written, and the way the narrative favors him and justifies him. Fitz comes into play, because Fitz and Keefe are used as narrative devices to contrast one another. However that was not always the case. In the earlier books, when they were still close friends, they agreed on a lot and seemed to know each other well. And then BOOM- Neverseen hits, Keefe is super reckless (even if his heart was in the right place) and is immediately forgiven for it. He became a fan favorite, and thus the decline in Fitz's original character begins. Shannon had to ruin Fitz's character to prop Keefe's up in the later books-- which comes off as supremely lazy to me. And I just cannot get over the complete character assassination of Fitz. Which again, not really a KEEFE issue, but more so my beef with the writing and execution.

That was a giant preface. I'm sorry. anway-

In previous posts about Keefe, I've gone over the way he often airs out and announces Sophie's emotions to the room, and he uses the fact that he can feel her emotions to get her to share secrets with him that she otherwise wouldn't. This is never seen as a bad thing, but when Fitz- who is not privy to Sophie's emotions- asks her how she's feeling or for her thoughts, it's suddenly 'invasive' and 'pushy'.

I've also gone over how Keefe lets Ro, his bodyguard, just verbally insult and berate Fitz, his supposed best friend, and never comes to his defense. Keefe- while consumed with his own issues, is often dismissive of others' issues. Which I don't blame him for- but he's never held accountable for it.

With quotes like (and I'm paraphrasing) "Yeah but you get to go back to perfect Vacker Land when all is said and done"- this was directed at Fitz when Fitz was trying to bring perspective and comfort. I believe this happened in either Neverseen or Lodestar. He also refuses to relate to Fitz or meet him in the middle on any issues ever. When Fitz points out that they both have traitors in the family, Keefe is quick to scoff and dismiss this olive branch.

Another moment is when he tells Tam that the role of "Mommy/daddy issues is taken" and in inadvertent ways, pokes fun at Tam's coping mechanisms. in front of everyone.

And then you get moments, like in Flashback, where Fitz directly tells Sophie he doesn't feel like he's allowed to be hurt the way he is- because he doesn't have it 'as bad' as other characters. <- huh wonder where that comes from.

Just not a great look imo.

I am also just really tired of the 'I use humor to hide how broken I am' archetype often found in literature. And while it may be relatable to many people, and a reason why he is a favorite- I'm just tired of seeing it, and I think it could have been done better. But it is a middle grade series, so of course it's a bit dumbed down.

I also get annoyed when Keefe butts in to any moment concerning Sophie because he just HAS to get a word in. He HAS to prove why he 'Knows Foster best'. All of the characters do this to an extent, but he does it the most and it's like- STAWP PLEASE.

Keefe is also just... blatantly mean in his own POV? Especially towards Fitz. He calls him boringly perfect, mentions how he wants to punch him, internally agrees with Ro's jabs etc-

and the other half of his POV is just ruminating on his sucky life and the 'cute worry line between Foster's brows'

and maybe I'm not being fair to him. Because LISTEN- I don't want him to be a perfect character. My issue is that he's obviously NOT perfect, but the narrative never makes him out to be imperfect. It runs circles around itself justifying him and his actions- but doesn't offer the same grace to any of the other characters besides Sophie.

[aingeal98]

hello hello! i saw your post and need your thoughts and verdict (hypothetically) for yhk in the last chapter. what would yjh and hsy do once kdj woke up, what if he never woke up and remains unreachable to them after all the effort?

thoughts on doksoo/ joongdok centric and which (poignant) scene makes a neuron lit up and go ah, them. and makes you go crazy, like, every single scene might as well an orpheus and eurydice-d, such as that "cancel your skill, kim dokja"

DHGFVJDFGV sorry you're just such a joy to read on the tags as you go through the story on tumblr since the yhk tags are most often then not, lifeless

Aaaaa thank you for this it's a fun ask! :D

Personally I believe Dokja woke up. Both because I want a happy ending for them and because I wouldn't put it past yoohan to track down and kill everyone who read orv and imagined a sad ending. But also I think him waking up is only the first step. There's no way things aren't complicated afterwards because Dokja will feel guilty for putting his friends through the trauma of losing him and his friends will try and convince him that he deserves love and they don't mind but at the same time the trauma is real and it's there. So it's going to be a long road to helping him forgive himself even if they all have done so already.

I feel like YJH would be pushy at first. Like this is the guy who became a terrorist rather than try therapy. He wants to find meaning through Dokja, to ask Dokja how he's supposed to live now, and that's a lot of pressure that none of the others will want to fall on Dokja's shoulders. Which I think will be good for HSY because it let's her fall into the comfortable zone of yelling at YJH for being terrible at expressing himself and ignoring her own terrible emotions as much as possible in the mean time. So I kind of see it like:

YJH & HSY: Screaming clawing kicking biting each other outside the hospital because HSY thinks YJH is being too pushy with Dokja and YJH thinks he's helping both of them by asking Dokja for guidance and HSY is getting in the way of his recovery.

Sangah, calmly pouring herself and Dokja tea inside his hospital room: So I spoke to your mother today and she'll be here soon! Oh don't worry about those two they'll probably only break a few bones.

But then if he never did wake up... I don't think either of them would be able to truly move on. I think they'd keep hoping that he would get better and the longer he doesn't the more the likelihood grows that one of them snaps and comes up with another reckless life threatening plan to increase the odds of his recovery. I'm not sure what it'd be but I like to think HSY is the one that snaps first this time. Just goes up to YJH like "hey are you ready for me to subject you to more horrendous torment for the slim tiny chance that it could make Dokja wake up" and YJH is like "naturally".

Whether they actually succeed or whether their plan is so terrible and hopeless that Sangah has to step in and force them to accept he's gone (an impossible task but she'll push them as close to the acceptance stage of grief as she possibly can.) I'm not sure. Either way it'd be fun to read about. I haven't looked into the side stories yet but I'm curious if they might make me change my mind about any of this. For now this is how I imagine it going down anyways.

Doksoo are insane and they consume my every waking thought. Reading the webtoon after the novel is so crazy because HSY really shows up as this random villain and no one including her has any idea that she's one of the three most important people in the universe. Like she's just a little fella. A prankster who's pranks sometimes involve murder. And the way she and Dokja are so unimpressed by each other and have no idea how much they'll end up loving each other... I feel like rereading any early doksoo interaction is going to come with extra loud clown music like even Dokja calling her a plagiarist and Sooyoung being like ugh you're such a cliche like oh you dumbasses. You have no idea.

I enjoyed both doksoo and joongdok's early banter a lot like it always added a ton of energy into every scene. But the moments it really clicked for me was the whole reincarnation island arc for doksoo. Like reading his narration about Sooyoung it's like ohhhh my god he's down bad. He's as in love as I am. He doesn't even realise it but he is so enamoured by her. Like that was the moment I could see the potential for them to become as important to each other as they did. The foundation and foreshadowing was done so well, not one bit of their relationship progression felt unearned.

And then for joongdok I think it was their divorce era that really got me on board. Like they were fun in the early stages but once Dokja is convinced there's no going back and is actually emotionally vulnerable and honest with YJH and YJH gets to vent his own frustrations about being nothing more than a character... It really solidified their bond for me. It brought Dokja down to YJH's level rather than the reader he was trying to be to YJH's character. Plus we get HSY dying and traumatising Dokja for once instead of the reverse. It's what they deserve.

Also punisher and transfem YJH and everything that's implied in the novel and how that would add to to her dynamics with doksoo. Haven't gotten any solid thoughts on that yet but the concept is slowly taking a grip on me.

So yeah after the reincarnation island arc I was so fully on board with this ot3 and every single Orpheus moment that followed hit right into my heart.

Sorry this is so long and barely scratches the surface alsjsjdhdh. I'm still processing everything but man. What a story. What a trio. Wretched mirror soulmates with toxic codependency my beloveds.

[inhcritance]

harry & mj !

SEND ME A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU… || Accepting

Childhood friends to ship, the investigative reporter and the heir to a corrupt company. What more could we ask for?

Who’s the cuddler?

I feel like this is a difficult one, at least at initiating... but I feel like it might be Harry, slightly more often, once he's confident enough with the relationship.

Who makes the bed?

Either Harry or whoever wakes up later. Harry likes seeing things tidy and he will make the bed if it's unmade without thinking too much of it.

Who wakes up first?

Probably MJ. Harry has no notion of healthy sleeping habits, so unless he's needed early at Oscorp, or they are doing something together -or simply agree to enjoy the day together... or the night- he's probably either going to bed late, or waking up so early it doesn't count as having slept.

He's probably the one cooking breakfast most often, though, because the moment she moves, he probably wakes up, and he likes cooking.

Who has the weird taste in music?

Probably Harry. He listens to a lot of music while in any of his labs, and he's more than once tried putting on random discs or radio stations just to see if he likes the music.

Who is more protective?

I'd say Harry, because he's a worrier by nature, but he tries very hard to leave it at worry and never step into control (because he knows how stifling that is, and he refuses to be controlling himself).

This said, it might be a close call, given their history and Harry's situation and occasional recklessness.

Who sings in the shower?

MJ. Harry doesn't sing in the shower by himself, but he could be coaxed into singing.

Who cries during movies?

I'd say MJ, because Harry can be very stonehearted with media. And no, those are not tears, MJ, he's just having some emotions-

Who spends the most while out shopping?

Harry. No doubt about it. Both on clothes, because he's vain and likes designer fashion and, above this all, dressing rich is just one of his many tools, for all that his style is not particularly extravagant... but also because he likes treating himself and the people he cares about, if they let him, and he has a persona to keep.

Who kisses more roughly?

MJ starts the rough kisses. Harry continues them, especially at first in their relationship. As he grows more comfortable, it grows into an even split.

Who is more dominant?

In their daily life, I'd say that MJ. She's the most direct of them both, while Harry is both very determined not to be pushy nor controlling, and far more given to acting indirectly. He's also very in love with her determination, so he's very happy being the chillest one in the relationship.

In the bedroom... it probably takes a lot of figuring out each other's boundaries before they get there, but MJ can definitely coax out Harry's more dominant side and after that it's him more often than it's her. Until that point is reached, though, it's MJ too.

My rating of the ship from 1-10.

9 out of 10. Chef's kiss. Lots of potential there.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3374

i woke up today at like 10:26 feeling great! catalogued how i felt and immediately fell back asleep.

woke up around 11:something to a phone call, which was from my therapist, so i woke up for that. talked to her about the con plague i'm suffering from as well as a friend i need to set boundaries with. she helped me think about the situation and equipped me with knowledge i did not previously have so i can do a better job when i need to reinforce those boundaries i once set a while ago. but so far, im okay.

unfortunately, when i got up out of bed i did not feel as good as i thought i did. but i did shower today, which was beneficial. helps to be clean.

i gotta wash some laundry tomorrow. my comfy stuff is dirty.

anyway, i had soup for lunch and came back upstairs and napped for a while. i've been trying to tell my mom to stop doing things and to actually rest, because she's sick, but she hasn't been listening to me a lot and is doing stuff anyway. so i think today she finally caved. she was supposed to go to the dentist thursday. she called and told them, and they rescheduled for her. she napped today. she's the type of person to power through an illness and by doing so makes it last six times longer than it should. so i'm trying to get her to stay down for more than a day or two because getting better is not something you can simply will your body to do when you have an autoimmune deficiency. lady's got lupus for god's sake. just stop, ma. stop. go back to bed. sleep. she doesn't sleep well, either, so that sucks too.

the good news is that i see what she's doing even though nobody else does. and i know what she needs to be doing because i'm 31 years old and basically have her immune system, plus i've been around her for three decades. so like, mom. you gotta stop running yourself into the ground. you'll get sickER, and then you'll STAY sick. which is the last thing you want. she hates being sick but she gets sick and stays sick for a long time because of her habits.

but i'm pushy with her when she gets sick. "go back to bed. now." "call the dentist and reschedule. they're not gonna wanna see you if you're sick." "get someone else to take her. you're SICK." constantly reminding her that she is, in fact, sick is something that she needs because she says shit like "i'll be better tomorrow morning," or "i'll be better in two days."

yes manifesting is one thing and the power of will of a human is another thing, but healing from illnesses is something entirely different. dad gave you a blessing? okay, so are you gonna help yourself by going to the doctor, or are you gonna rely on sky daddy to fix it?

so that's what i've been dealing with on top of trying to feel better.

my sister is also sick. but mom got sick before i came home, so i didn't give con plague to her. i probably gave it to my sister, though, even though she avoided me. her symptoms sound like mine. but i have health insurance. it's too risky in this country to not have health insurance. i hate this place. i'm gonna fuckin file for medicaid for the two of them. they need insurance. if something happens to james, then what, huh?? goddamn.

i may be reckless and a dumbass, but i have the sense to have health insurance to help me take care of the consequences of my dumbassery.

sigh. didn't really mean for this to turn into a rant about health.

but seriously, guys. whoever is reading this, make sure you've got health insurance and that you take steps to help yourself. if you live in the US, it's FAR too dangerous to live without insurance. medicaid is low-cost or doesn't cost you a dime. you can get doctors appointments, dentistry, glasses, specialists, physical therapy, and mental health therapy, along with medications to help you if something ever does happen. local state governments have their own applications, but if you search on the page for the department of health and human services (DHHS), you should be able to find links and stuff to access it.

if you don't qualify for medicaid because you make too much, the healthcare marketplace will often give discounts so insurance is only $10 a month or something. it really depends. i have to fix my application tomorrow because my medicaid ended today. having both was a good cover just in case it got ended because of my new job, but now that it's just the one, i gotta change it and hopefully they'll change my monthly premium.

anyway.

get health insurance!!

for those who live in single-payer systems, what is your favorite part about it? besides the fact that you don't have to ridiculous bullshit of american insurance lmao

also yeah, i still feel shitty. not as shitty as before, but still not great. my head is still fuzzy and thinking is hard. which isn't fun. but i'll be taking mucinex sinus day stuff with me so i can take it and function at work when i go in on wednesday. i can't afford to not go in. womp womp.

anyway. i didn't get to talk to joel today, but that's mostly because i was completely out of it for like 80% of the day.

and my hair is weird so i need to get it fixed but i don't want to cut it because i want to grow it out again, but i hate leaving it this awkward length. bleh.

i could use a thousand-dollar trip to the mall or barnes and noble. or both. they're right across the street from each other anyway.

[grimescum-2]

the teensy tiniest of updates on her :o3 backstory, personality and a few design concepts under the cut!!

🎀 her name is Claudine Boutet. she was born on august 1st of 1922 and is technically (iirc hellsing takes place in 1999) 77 years old :o9 but she was bitten at age 32

🎀 ...though she does not act that way. she's jolly and confident with very little being able to change that, though she can be serious when the situation calls for it. she can be a bit overbearing but she'll turn it down if she feels that she's making people uncomfy

🎀 hates people who're uptight and "can't have any fun", in her own words. she also doesn't take kindly to insults on her career

🎀 she's incredibly reckless due to her valuing showmanship over her own safety, partially due to her being a vampire and her general confidence in her abilities.

shes considerate of others but can be pushy if she thinks it'd make for a good act.

🎀 she took her vampirism in stride and saw it as an opportunity despite her having to cut off majority of her contacts and cancel her circus tour. she also decided to revamp her acts and the overall aesthetic of her circus entirely to better fit this fact

🎀 she decided to continue with her show a few years later after the bite. she started off doing things on her own and "recruited" people by turning them into ghouls and using their lesser intelligence to her advantage, training them to do various acts and promising blood in return

she does feel guilt about this but sees it as a necessary step. she also figures she'll "make up for it" by entertaining the public

🎀 she loves to sing and does not shut up even in most serious situations. she'll burst out into song whenever she has the idea to. she loves making vampire puns that can be kinda cheesy at times (ex. "fangs for coming, its so nice to eat you" *laugh track* )

🎀 her childhood was kinda tough but not tragic. she was born into a poor family and was a street performer for most of her life. she also dropped out of school early dedicate her time to developing her skills. she didn't have many friends growing up because of this which

🎀 her various talents include: the ability to play the accordion and flute, tap-dancing, acrobatics and aerial silk. she's also very flexible.

aside from working on these skills she enjoys listening to music (swing, jazz, cabaret, etc), playing card games and reading

🎀 although she enjoys company, she's solitary by nature. she's a little awkward when it comes to talking to people and being genuine with them since she's so used to playing everything up + her lack of social interactions

🎀 i feel like she'd be good friends with most of the main crew. she respects integra but hates how serious she is. she'd probably accidentally freak out seras. she is obviously friends with walter because i love him... as for alucard i genuinely have no clue.

this is all if i do decide that she'd end up with hellsing though

and here's the concepts...

DEFINITELY is gonna have short curly hair (i plan on making it look different than what you see here though). was thinking ginger or black

the bat wings idea for her jacket was inspired by the vampire film "london after midnight" :o3 her mask was also intended to look like a bat but im not sure how well that comes across

and lastly here's a concept moodboard for my girl + the beginnings of her spotify playlist

playlist

[starfruit-baby]

why do people say North has "anger and impulse control issues"?? other than killing the man that was the last straw for her, the only occasion where she goes against orders (as far as ive seen, correct me if im wrong) is in the occasion that Markus didn't pay attention or care when she reminds him to lock the door to the maintenance room, and Markus' idea for a ruse is clearly not working, and even so she doesn't kill the guy dead, just knocks him out? she NEVER goes against anyone's will to do what she suggested and just does it on her own. she just gives you an idea of what you can do and may get upset if you dont do it, which also happens with literally every other companion in DBH

[galaxina-the-pyro]

Either gonna call this the "In His Eyes" AU to differentiate, but this is a Soulmate AU basically so I'mma tag it like that.

This story was greatly inspired by "Rewrite the Stars" by fangirlwriting on Fanfiction.com, I HIGHLY reccommend reading that. (Tumblr's acting weird, it won't let me link the entire title to the story, but whatever)

Story:

In this universe, everyone is born with grey eyes - or rather, eyes that appear grey to everyone other than your soulmate and vice versa. Isabella, a romantic even in her earlier years, is absolutely enamored with the idea of finding her one true love to the point of it turning into an obsession of hers. Her abrasive, reckless nature paired up with her pushiness that she mistakes for determination (which she HAS but...double-edged sword), while she HAS friends, she's considered an oddball amongst her peers, even with finding a soulmate being considered a rite of passage as it were in their society.

One Summer, while getting her tonsils removed, she meets a boy with bandages over his eyes named Phineas. He explains to her, though poorly, that his eyes were damaged from a sickness he caught a few years prior, and has to have annual "check-ups" (really, surgeries) in order to keep the illness from completely ruining his eyes (eating his entire gosh darn face). As a result, he is blind and is forced to wear medical blindfolds due to how damaged his eyes are.

Phineas and Isabella become really good friends, and over the years their bond strengthens. At the age of fourteen, Phineas is able to get prosthetic eyes that allow him to actually see stuff after all those years of being sick, but unfortunately, it renders him completely color blind, meaning he'll never be able to find his soulmate (though it's like...still a step up from being totally blind, so Phineas takes the bad with the good; in fact, he seems totally okay with it, focusing more on how he can actually SEE his loved ones for the first time in YEARS. And Isabella...oh gosh Isabella...he'd never been happier to see ANYONE before).

Overtime, Phineas and Isabella individually realize they've fallen in LOVE with each other. Sure, they'd both had crushes on each other, but Isabella's mom told her it was a phase she'd grow out of (though...she never said WHEN, and like...those feelings most CERTAINLY never died out; if anything her friends insisted that they got stronger), and Phineas didn't realize it WAS a crush until he got a little older (he just thought he REALLY liked her in comparison to most people; she'd been there for him through a lot, after all, it's totally normal to think about someone like that for like...90% of your waking day at least, right?). After a lot of prodding and reassurance, the two manage to, somehow, confess, and they start courting and everything is wonderful and great and Isabella has never felt so happy who needs a soulmate when you have Phineas he practically WAS her-

She meets her soulmate about a few weeks later. Which VERY much complicates things - not just because of her relationship with Phineas, but because her DATING someone who IS NOT her soulmate is VERY MUCH frowned upon. The whole ordeal causes Isabella to doubt the system and her goal itself, wondering what really counts as a soulmate - the color of someone's eyes, or something much deeper. Phineas, on the other hand, must choose to either let Isabella be with her soulmate or fight to be with her.

The story's filled with twists and turns, wacky shenanigans, a LOT of side ships because this is a SOULMATE AU GOSH DANGIT, it thrives on SHIPS, some tears for good measure, a whole lot of laughs, and all that good mushy stuff one needs in a romantic comedy of errors.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Let’s say England has a long-term girlfriend he knows isn’t the biggest fan of marriage bc her family had been really really pushy (before she got the heck out of dodge) about her marrying + reproducing ASAP. How might he react if she came to him and said she was kinda starting to like the general concept of marrying him — that is, the whole ‘together forever’ bit. Thanks!

I confess darling that I have been trying to finish this prompt for well over a year, and I offer my sincerest apologies that it’s taken me this long to finish it. Still, despite my tardiness, I hope you enjoy, and I thank you for your patience with me.

You had never intended to fall in love, not with the constant push of your relatives to fall in line like a perfect child.

First, marriage to someone they deemed acceptable, raising the perfect 2.5 children, followed by quietly settling into parenthood and complaisant contentment until the day you last drew breath.

Truth of the matter was, you had avoided all chances of romance for the first few years after you moved away from home, carefully slipping away from anyone who seemed remotely interested in you.

You knew your folks would have disproved such behaviour had they learnt the truth, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You had your own dreams to pursue, your own story to tell, your own life to live; you didn't need someone by your side to feel complete.

You were happy as you were, finding enjoyment in your work and figuring out your place in the world.

You didn’t need, or frankly want, anything more than that.

That was of course until you met him.

Falling in love with Arthur Kirkland had been a complete accident. He slipped past all of your defenses and took up residence in your heart as if he had always belonged there.

It started out slow enough; at first you simply knew him as a familiar face from the cafe in Waterstones, steaming cup of Darjeeling and a chocolate croissant sitting forgotten on the table in front of him, always too focused on his reading to pay any attention to the outside world. After one particularly crowded Sunday afternoon, he began to transition into your favorite dining companion, the two of you often taking turns paying for each other’s food. Slowly but surely, you began forgetting about your books, too wrapped up in conversation, and before you knew it-

You had come to love every part of him- the gentleman that you begrudgingly introduced to your parents, the rebellious and passionate activist, the cocky and playful little shit who had long ago memorised all the best ways to disarm you, and the ancient soul who cared so deeply, who still stretched himself thin most days in effort to protect each of his loved ones.

You fell in love with his voice, whispering sonnets and sonatas and sweet nothings in your ear while his arms cradled you from behind.

You fell in love with his eyes, still losing your footing sometimes when the light caught them just right, dreaming momentarily of summer forests and grassy glades and the misty dews of spring.

You fell in love with his smiles, from the satisfied grin at stirring up Peter’s ire to the breathless wonder each time you kissed or complimented him, to the bright, beautiful, blinding smile he wore when he was incandescently happy, his entire countenance iridescent from his joy.

You loved him completely- for his devotion, for his sweet gestures, for his damned impishness, for his wit, his sass, and the soft spoken affection.

You loved him: for his patience, for his recklessness, for his resilience, for his possessive pride that was somehow more charming than alarming.

He was unique, an enigma that, even after having lived together for years and dating even longer, kept you on your toes, his energy and random spouts of spontaneity proving to you that, even if you spent one hundred lifetimes with him, he would always remain a puzzle you would never fully solve.

And by God did you want to.

Arthur had stolen your heart away from you before you had even noticed he was close enough to take it, offering his own in its stead.

You had remained reluctant, confided in him your fears about settling down, how much you dreaded becoming trapped in a monotonous rut of tedium. He was quick to reassure you, showing through words and actions far more impassioned and teasing than he had ever shown prior, that an eternity with him could never be boring.

Even on quiet days, like today, with a steady drizzle painting the world in greys, Arthur humming quietly while adding another patch to his denim vest, and no other disturbance apart from the cat’s chittering at the robins playing in a puddle by the iron fence- Even now, you weren’t so much bored as you were pensive.

You had been thinking about a future with him a lot in the past few days, some irrelevant ad on your mobile about wedding venues catching your attention and slithering into the back of your mind.

What kind of wedding would he like? Would Arthur prefer something small and intimate, or would his hubris crave a larger venue, giving him yet another chance to prove to the world that he belonged at your side, no one else?  You couldn’t help but wonder if he would wear his uniform or a suit, if he would leave the rats' nest he called a hairstyle untouched, or if he would perhaps slick it back in that way that somehow made the normal rakishness disappear, a confident, refined cavalier standing in his place.

You knew of course that none of this mattered unless you actually talked to him first; as far as you were aware, he was content with the current arrangement, and he respected your views of marriage.

He had known, for a long time, just where the grim outlook stemmed from, and he never breached the subject again.

But now-

You had thought it was enough to hold his love, his faith, his vulnerabilities. But life was so fleeting, and now those few things were no longer enough.

You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, wanted the cheesy partners’ towel and flip flop sets. You wanted the physical reminder that you held his heart, the comforting reminder that he completely possessed your own. You wanted to be by his side forever, holding his hand through the good and the ill, facing new worlds and challenges and the uncertain future together.

You knew the risks, of course.

Marriage to a Nation carried an even heavier burden than the simple oath of “till death do us part.”

No, marrying Arthur would mean weaving your entire lives together, binding you on a spiritual level far surpassing mortality; it would mean sacrificing your chance to ever grow old, to eternally give yourself away: heart, mind, body, and soul.

But this was Arthur, who sang showtunes in the shower, who spent hours making silly faces at the cat, who was ridiculously competitive about Halloween costumes, the man who sat down and memorised the entirety of The Tempest in one night just for the bragging rights.

He already owned your heart, constantly invaded your thoughts and daydreams, and God knew he had long, long ago claimed your body, making certain not a single millimeter of his new territory went unexplored.

Would it really be so bad to give him your soul, too?

Glancing back up, seeing his eyes narrowed in concentration, his fingers handling the needle with expert precision, lips slightly parted, reading glasses fallen halfway down his nose-

You knew your answer.

It was always going to be Arthur for you, only Arthur.

Forever, should he have you.

But now you faced the challenge of telling him that.

It should be simple enough; you really held no more secrets from him, and he no longer bothered trying to hide anything from you. You loved how open you were with one another, cherished the honesty that served as the very foundation to your relationship.

But the truth was that you were terrified.

It had been so long since either of you had spoken of marriage, since the topic was even a thought in your minds, and-

What if he didn't want you anymore?

What if he-

"I can see the steam coming outta your ears."

The unexpected presence of Arthur's voice startled you, eyes darting back over to the very man who was unwittingly tormenting you.

He had barely moved from his earlier position, though his glasses had been pushed up into his hair and he was studying you curiously, if not bemusedly.

"You good there?"

By default, you nearly responded with an affirmative, some playful, lighthearted thing that would have dismissed his concern immediately. You cut yourself off mid-start, then, while shifting to sit properly in the armchair, you decided to push forward. "Can we talk?"

You watched as his expression shifted, revealing his concern as he tied off his thread, setting aside the patchwork and gestured for you to join him on the sofa.

There were a few awkward moments where you took up your favourite positions, Arthur tossing an afghan across the pair of you despite your insistence that you didn't need one, the flicker of a grin as you begrudgingly thanked him, and then shifting around as you both got comfortable, but soon enough-

"Alright, now; talketh at-eth me."

It was impossible to fight the smile his choice of words triggered, a reference to an inside joke so old now that you could scarcely recall its origin. Seeming to deem it a success, his own soft, reassuring smile greeted you.

"Seriously though, luv-" His hand came to rest atop your own, his fingers gently tapping a familiar rhythm against your skin. "What's troubling you?"

You were half-tempted to offer something short of sincerity, something innocuous and mundane that you could both laugh over and forget again within a few hours. Yet, you knew that if you didn't tell him now, didn't ask him now, you would never find the courage again.

"I've been thinking-"

"Ah. A scary premise in its own right."

"Oh, shut up," you retorted to his tease, smacking his arm for his troubles. He rewarded you with a grin, all fondness and mischief. Opting to ignore him, you pressed on, eyes downcast to avoid whatever judgement he may offer.

"As I was trying to say earlier, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The teasing fell off, and the worry crept back in. "I've been thinking. About us."

"O-oh?"

Were you not so consumed by your own anxieties, you would have noticed his stutter, would have seen the sudden tension in his posture, the fear in his eyes. As it was, you were completely oblivious to all of it, and made yourself continue at his prompting.

"I- I think I'm ready."

He mimed the word "ready" to himself, parroting it with utter befuddlement. "For wha-"

"I mean, I know I wasn't for such a long time, and-" Suddenly, you were off, half unhinged. Now that you had admitted the truth aloud, it was all rushing out of you, everything you had come to love about him, everything that-

A finger pressing firmly against your lips stopped you mid-tangent, and when you glanced up to find piercing, blazing emerald focused on you as if you were the very center of the universe, whatever remained of your ramblings disappeared entirely.

"What are you trying to say?"

A simple question, so easy to answer, yet it carried with it the weight of Infinities, demanding nothing save the truth, in its most basic state.

You were lost in his gravity, half-drowning in whatever this new feeling was. It was addicting, another riddle to be solved.

"Marry me."

Time stood still, the words weighing heavily in the space between you, now seemingly insurmountable despite being no more than mere decimeters.

Arthur showed no reaction, revealed no indication that he had even heard your plea, your query, your command, your request, and yet it echoed over and over in your own mind, the tone, the weight, the untimeliness-

Every facet- from your inflection to chosen tempo- crescandoed as an accusation, a mocking symphony that he would reject you, that you would be left with only the haunting strains of your ill-conceived proposal.

And yet-

There was a hesitation in his eyes, the face of a man who wanted wholeheartedly to believe what he had heard, but had been burned far too often in the past to dare allow himself hope.

"You-" His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he studied you once more, only for the suspicion to disappear again almost immediately, disbelief swiftly taking its place. "You're serious?"

It was then that you finally read his nervousness, understood the strange emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You had lead him to a precipice, the vast Unknown before you both, and-

And he was just as fragile as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping to ground you both, and offered him a nod. “If you’ll have me, anyway.”

His eyes flickered between your own, darting back-and-forth so quickly in search of a lie, of any doubts, of any hint that you were less than certain- yet you knew he would find none of that.

“What about your family?”

The question took you by surprise; in the moment, you had completely forgotten anyone else even existed.

You weighed his question carefully. Marrying Arthur would give your family leave to gloat in self-satisfaction, and you knew with absolutely certainty that they would hold it over your head for the next three decades. But looking into the eyes of the man before you, remembering all that you had already seen and done together, you found that others' opinions no longer mattered, really hadn't mattered in a long, long time.

“I couldn’t care less about them. Arth-”

Whatever you were going to say was forgotten as he closed the remaining distance between you, moving so swiftly that you scarcely had a moment to steady yourself before he captured you in a searing kiss, one of his most passionate by far.

Somehow, despite the suddenness of it all, the initial force, the intensity- 

He was being incredibly gentle, and moving slowly enough to almost be more a torment than a treat. Almost.

You found yourself lost in a daze when he finally pulled away, just enough for each of you to catch your breaths, just far enough that he could study you with rapt attention. You could have drowned in his eyes, endless greens magnetizing in their intensity. His hands were still cradling your cheeks, still holding you firmly in place, a not completely foreign expression creasing his features.

You couldn't quite place it, even as your memories shifted desperately in search of its mate.

"'If I'd have you?'" His words, a rhetorical refrain of your own mere moments earlier, were scarcely a shared breath between you, murmured in timbre so low it summoned a shiver. There was the smallest twitch of his lip, his head tilting ever so slightly as more of that damned deviousness made its presence known. "I fully intend to have you regardless, luv. But the formality of it all certainly adds a particular je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?"

You'd be damned if he knew just how that made your heart flutter, if he knew just how much weight that reassurance had lifted from your shoulders.

Carefree, content, you offered a playful smile. "Till death do us part then?"

Arthur no longer bothered trying to restrain his smile, soft and sincere in a way that left you breathless. "I'll love you till even the stars go cold, my dear."

Thanks for reading~

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢. — 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Tags: @itsnottilly

Summary : after the troubling interrogation, Y/N sets back off, possibly created contact with an ex-friend, a bully, a douche bag. Learning the conflict and grudges, tension is brought to them.

Navigation — Mixtape

“Y/N, Y/N. Y/N!” A shout flickered the girl back to the futile, cold office, accompanied by the principal, chief, and the officer, who seemed slightly worried about the girl who seemed to have dozed off into the abundance of memories and thoughts overflowing her own emotions, a sense of guilt welling up on her, “Are you listening?”

Her eyes blinked, watching the concerned adults, who were looking back at her. She shakes her head, her brittle hair moving from side to side, trying her best to hold back tears, not wanting to know of the possibilities of Will not being safe. Remembering a bit of the event that carried on last night, she spoke forward, “I-I only remember leaving early, since I had to be home by six. Will was with the party, so I don’t know much from there.”

Callahan cleared his throat, taking the seat next to her, “Do you know what street he usually takes to go home?”

”Mirkwood,” Y/N fixes her jacket, watching her dad rolls his eyes, remembering the fuss the party made while they interrogated them about a few hours ago. She looks around, the diplomas displayed on the back, tears slightly welled up in her E/C eyes, feeling a pit in her stomach, “I-I’m sorry. Is there any way I could help?”

She snapped.

Heavy streams of tears dropped onto her pale cheeks, now one of her responsibilities of whom she had promised to take care of was gone. If she should’ve stayed a little longer, just an hour more, she could’ve prevented it. It’s all her fault, all her fault. No wonder she was a failure, maybe those dorks from years ago were right. It was all her fault her mom ever divorced Hopper. It’s everything, all her fault-

��Y/N,” A large hand rubbed her back up and down, making her try to feel better, the girl that had her hands buried into her face, looked up to see her dad, sitting beside her, “You just have to keep a brave face, and no investigating okay?”

Her heavy eyes drift towards the bearded man, watching her sternly beside her, she frantically nods. Later then, she provided a bit more information about Will and his family, now that she’s been with them for five years now. Ever since that broad decision was made, it would become one of the most treasured moments in her life, the strong bond brought them together.

Excused from the staff, she strolled back to the hallway, barging through her cluttered backpack to try to find a fresh pack of cigarettes, but none were to be found. She sighed loudly, to swing her backpack to its default position and pacing along the hallway. The realization kept hitting her, her eyes burned, while she quivered, biting her lip. That same feeling inside the principal’s office, the guilt. What was there to be guilty about anyways?

“Oh, won’t you look who it is!” A cocky tone appeared from afar, Y/N gave no shit to turn to the voice but instead continue watching the shiny floor, reflecting the lights above, “I guess Hopper is weeping for her mommy. Oh right, she doesn’t have one.”

Furious at the remark, her eyes darted across to find a brunette, with ‘perfect’ hair, leaning against the metal lockers. Steve fucking Harrington. This boy had it all against the girl, ever since those harsh words being repeated over and over, like a broken cassette, threw her into the lowest state. Y/N’s expressions turned bitter, her nose wrinkled, and pursed her lips, “Stop acting like you’re ten, Steve.”

”I see you’ve been listening,” He raises his eyebrows, snarlingly commenting, shifting his hands to his pockets in his khaki jeans.

“So?” Y/N spoke back, slowing her pace down to be able to talk to him although feeling like the need to ignore back again. Why was she going to bother her time with him?

Oh right.

Steve, her old friend. Accidental friends after he was helping his mom bringing in the groceries on a cool December day, back in her elementary school years. After the kind offering Y/N gave during a small ride around town, it evolved to an odd friendship, one to which Y/N had been too attached. Steve might have found it odd that a girl, a girl, like Y/N Hopper would be around him so much. Clingy, was the word he gave her, was it offensive?

Maybe.

But due to stereotypical construct, you would’ve guessed everyone calling them annoying names, couple names, like two romantics although they were only like, twelve. From “When are you going to marry her?” and the “Where’s your girlfriend?” Honestly, no one else was surprised by Y/N’s small reoccurring crush on him. Stuck like glue, Steve didn’t like this bubbly, excited Y/N anymore, she was pushy. Sick of the repetitive comments to him and meeting new friends, who were dickheads in the girl’s eyes, he wanted to push her away, she was annoying, bratty, and clingy. He listened to those kids, these kids that Steve considered ‘friends’ were total assholes, persuading him to become sort of like them. Only the beginning of the 6th grade. They were stupid, naive, reckless, are what other parents claimed to be, couldn’t they move on.

To this day, she still reckons why she ever told Steve, why was she so dependent on someone with who she’d only been friends for months? Why Steve? Why out of all the friends she supposedly had, why him? It seemed like an utter dependency she had for him, she even knows she must’ve scared him off for being well..... her. Y/N was young, it was one mistake to tell a secret to someone you somewhat knew would tell everyone, right?

”Can I tell you a secret Steve?” Y/N crossed her legs in front of him, playing with her fingers nervously. Awaiting for a bit of truth to be let out. As everyone has supposedly known, Y/N had a supposed mother and sister who were alive, and together. Everyone believed that the Hopper’s were the happy family, her sister was alive along with her mom that was still with them. Truth was, Sarah was dead, Diane divorced Jim when the girl was eleven years old. A broken family, from papers to fighting for custody, it was all crumbled to pieces, unlike close and tight-knit families.

Steve looked up from the ground to meet the girl’s eyes. He slowly shuffled closer to her, “Yeah okay tell me.”

Y/N breathed in and out, before leaning into his left ear, “I don’t have a sister nor a mommy.”

”What?” His chocolate eyes widened, scooting away from her, getting up rapidly to avoid contact, “That’s weird! Everybody has a mom! You’re a freak!”

Frazzled, Y/N sat still, watching him running away, feeling a bit hurt due to his reaction. She thought maybe she trusted him with her life although he didn’t feel the same, she thought that he could’ve been more supportive. What if he was right? Anyways, it was ok, it was his first reaction, it’s normal, right?

Nope, it wasn’t. After finding such intimate information about this girl he wanted to get rid of due to popularity, he set off to tell every single kid at school. Maybe this was for the best, he would get her out of the way to focus on his supposed friends. Creating such influence in the school, he somehow got ahold of everyone to turn their backs on Y/N. Oh, what entirety of hurtful words that they targeted poor Y/N with. Everyone excluded her, the freak, weirdo, dumb girl that didn’t have parents and a dead sister. Everybody no longer liked the lonely Y/N, just a bit of trust would be one to ruin a life. It consequently grew worse, it wasn’t even verbal teasing, it became physical. Steve being stupid and reckless had ruined her life, and for what? Just getting rid of her. Realize, how the effect of one's words to make a benefit can create a rumble over people, they were young and stupid..... can’t that be a proper excuse to move on?

Everyone knows Y/N. Y/N Hopper, the stubborn, tired and selfless girl who held grudges against everyone. They all knew she wasn’t going to move on anytime soon. Subtle changes to herself and her personality, she became quiet, reserved yet so outspoken about her opinions. Everyone seemed to have moved on, back into high school, more mature and old enough to hold responsibilities, but Y/N. A slow hatred burned inside her, even though it was years back, everyone liked Steve. That stayed the same for sure, he was more prissy and above it all, unlike Y/N. It may have seemed like........ they never knew each other. Strange, maybe it was better that they stayed apart.

Gallantly watching her feet stay still under her, she looked back at him cheekily smiling as if nothing had happened. Why did he forget everything? “Shouldn’t you be in class, since when has the Y/N Hopper been so rebellious?”

”I was called to the office,” Y/N mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, trying to drift off into the narrow hallway, “What about you?”

”Thought I could skip, Mrs. Wyatt doesn’t do shit.”

Without spatting anything back, the annoyance of the school bell rang for the third period, students piled out of the classrooms in the crowded hallway. Girls and boys trudged along the place, like birds migrating to their destinations automatically, it may seem like a normal fall day in town, but it would be a life changing experience for some. No one knew Will Byers, why would they care anyways?

Before Steve could look back at the girl, she disappeared into thin air, never to be seen for now, back to the boring classes, but with a small change of Will’s disappearance. One disappearance that could change the whole fate of small-town Hawkins, Indiana.

[instasiswetrust]

"Guys! Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" Dustin risks bowling over Mike, Lucas, and Will with the exuberance of his hug but there's no way he can keep quiet about this. Not after what he had done the night before. "I have a secret and I'm dying to tell somebody else."

They all seem confused for a moment before Lucas' eyes widen.

"You got Suzie pregnant?"

"What? No!" He makes a face, jokingly punching his friend on the shoulder. "Jesus, Lucas, why would you even think that?"

"If it's not that then what?" Mike sounded annoyed but then again, he kind of always sounded like that.

Dustin wasted no time in pulling out the leatherbound journal he had found the night before, leading his friends to an outcrop near the docks, shadowed by trees. He opened it to the first page, where Steve had scrawled his name in neat calligraphy.

"Is that Steve's diary? Dustin, what the hell?"

"It's from the summer of '85 guys! You know what that means?"

"Uh, that you shouldn't be reading your older brother's teenage thoughts?" Lucas fixed Dustin with a light glare, which he ignored.

"No, idiot. Summer of '85 was the last time Steve ever dated someone! You know, the same year he moved here? When mom took him in?"

"I'm not following. What does this have to do with your wedding?" Mike crossed his arms over his chest, Will peeking over Dustin's shoulder to scan the pages.

"Well, wouldn't it be nice if Steve got to be happy too? He's been taking care of me since my mom died. He's the only family I have and if Suzie and I leave the Villa, who will help him?"

Lucas and Mike don't seem convinced with Dustin's reasoning but at least they stop glaring accusingly at him. In the end, is Will who breaks the staring contest between the three of them.

"So what did you find?"

"Uh, okay so listen to this." Dustin flipped some pages from the journal stopping at a page and grinning.

I keep being surprised when Mama doesn't show up to the important events in my life but I guess I should be used to it now. Robin insists I forget her, Nancy asked if I was planning to go back, and that's when I told them about my plans. Both of them are sad to see me go, we're the Dynamos after all, but they were supportive and saw me off at the airport.

My flight did a stop in France. I met Tommy there when he confused me for one of the staff workers. He's kind of a dick but in a charming way, and he's got this adorable smattering of freckles covering his face. He told me about growing up in London and how his dad was a banker, how his mom had his whole life planned out for him as soon as he graduated from college.

We went out for a few drinks and friendly banter turned into drunk 21 questions. Tommy told me how he's always wanted to but he's never been with another guy before. And look, I'm never like this! But we were pretty drunk, and I was curious if those freckles went all the way down! So one thing led to another and we ...

"I'm not sure if I wanna keep listening to this," Lucas said, making a face.

Mike, on the other hand, took a seat next to Dustin trying to see what was written on the journal. "Well, I do."

"What's dot dot dot?" Will asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, that's just a euphemism for having sex," Dustin said waving a dismissive hand as he flipped through more pages. "Okay, okay, now listen to this."

After almost missing the ferry, I finally reached Scopello this afternoon. The turqouise waters and the approaching sunset must have been one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life. I think, that maybe I could stay here. Forever. Oh, but I'm not sure, it would mean rarely seeing Robin and Nancy, dropping all dreams of singing in the big stages, all those dreams...

I don't want to worry about this now. This place is too beautiful and I want to make the most of it.

There was a storm the other night. I've been staying on a rundown farm at the edges of town and during the storm heard a loud sound downstairs. There was a horse there, probably scared from the thunder but the ceiling collapsed and I couldn't get to it. I wasn't really thinking when I decided it would be a good idea to try and run back into town to get help. Luckily, this guy had been out driving (who rides out a Camaro in a thunderstorm??) and he helped me get to the horse and calm him down.

His name is William, Billy for short (the guy, not the horse), and I've never met a guy more infuriating than him. Or as hot, either. Good gods, he looks like he walked straight out of an art museum or something.

We’ve spent this whole month together, going out to swim at the beach (he tried teaching me to surf and I almost twisted my ankle on some rocks), then to a local bar (I actually got a new job singing there, who would've thought?), some picnics. It's been awfully romantic despite Billy’s brazenness and cocksure attitude.

And I think that I... I think that I might love him.

"But if they were so into each other, what happened?" Will pipes up again, a frown on his face as he tried to read over Dustin's shoulder with little results.

"I still think you shouldn't be doing this, dude. What if Steve finds out? He's going to be so mad at you!" Lucas interjects, picking another rock from the sand and making it skip over the surface of the water.

"He would kill me for sure," Dustin shrugs, offering a toothy grin. "But only if he finds out."

"Dustin, c'mon! What happened next?" At this point Will looks like he's about to rip the journal out of his friend's hands and read it himself.

"Jesus, you're pushy. Okay, so-"

Billy's engaged. Didn't even tell me, I had to find out for myself while I was making him breakfast and accidentally stumbled over some documents he had left laying around. My chest hurts, and I haven't stopped crying since he left this morning but I'm just so angry!

Fuck, I feel so dumb. This is all my fault. All because I was being a stupid reckless little slut.

Ugh. I sound like my mom. At least Robin and Nancy called to say they would arrive this week. I've truly missed them, can't wait to see them.

The girls came to see me during one of my shifts at the bar where I was singing. Robin couldn't stop laughing at Nancy's surprised face. She thinks I've changed a lot since I left but in a good way. I don't really believe her and I think she knows that. With them here, at least the ache from Billy's departure barely makes itself present.

Oh! Before I forget to write this again, today I saw Jonathan again. He was this nice photographer who slowed the ferry's departure so I wouldn't miss it. We talked a lot on our way and he's such a nice guy. He came to the bar today and we got talking again, he asked if I would be okay with modeling for him tomorrow. Nancy and Robin insisted that I tell him yes, as a chance to try and forget Billy by "getting some".

I told them it's an awful idea but I accepted Jonathan's offer either way. He's quiet but caring, and I really enjoy talking with him. We talked about his family back in America, his mom and his little brother. Honestly, if something were to happen tomorrow, I wouldn't be opposed to it...

"Wait." Will leans back, a confused expression on his face that slowly morphs into astonishment. "Dustin, does Steve ever say the last name of this Jonathan guy?"

"Uh," Dustin frowns, flipping through the pages. "Yeah, they are here somewhere. Let me look for them."

"Will, you don't think-" Mike starts, having caught onto his best friend's train of thought.

"Jonathan took a trip to Italy when I was fifteen." He says simply, biting on the pad of his thumb.

"Oh shit." All eyes turn to Dustin who's got his eyes fixated on the journal in his lap. "Byers. The guys last name is Byers."

"Holy shit Will, your brother hooked up with Dustin's brother." Lucas tries to tamper down his laughter but it's a futile endeavor, his lips curling up before he can control them. "I can't believe this."

"But wait," Mike turns to Dustin who's expression has turned troubled. His eyes narrow. "You still haven't explained what this has to do with your wedding. What did you do?"

Dustin stays quiet for a minute or two before he lifts his gaze to his friend's, a sheepish smile on his lips. "I uh, I invited all three of them to the wedding but made it look like Steve sent the invites. And they uh... they all said yes?"

This time Lucas doesn't even bother hiding his laugh, doubling over as he nearly cackles at the stupidness of this whole situation.

"Dude, you're so fucked when Steve finds out."

[the-darklings]

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me. 

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does. 

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being. 

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie. 

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse. 

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it. 

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants. 

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head. 

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.  

Jackie should have been one of such people. 

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”   

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens. 

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore. 

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right. 

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be. 

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone. 

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.  

So much for being buddies. 

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique. 

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything. 

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now. 

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly. 

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether. 

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.   

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying. 

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past. 

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her. 

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile. 

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname. 

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole. 

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first. 

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.  

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.” 

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either. 

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one. 

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny. 

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.” 

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them. 

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds. 

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth. 

A twisted truth. 

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”  

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence. 

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet. 

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises. 

.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig. 

[verfound]

Here in this diary! (I think I know but I wanna seeee)

...I was honestly gonna save these for the next two WIPWednesdays, but then someone said @lukanettejune had Villain!Luka as today's prompt (6/4), and it just seemed like it'd be fun to share this today?

Because I've been sitting on Villain!Butterfly!Luka for a while now without having a lot of time to work on it, and I'm pretty sure the only ones I've discussed it with are the OG LBSC crew. And y'all will never believe when I say our Fluffy Meet Cute Queen is the one who gave me the prompt. 😁

The prompt started with Marinette recording Guardian/Ladybug-specific things in her diary, in case anything ever happened to her (because superheroes typically don't have a long life expectancy lbr), to explain - or to lead the next Guardian. I can't remember if Luka specifically getting the diary/Marinette giving it to him was the original idea (it's LBSC it probably was), but it...ran away with me. And Shadowman was born.

The summary: Under normal circumstances, Luka would never read someone’s diary. But Marinette’s been missing since Ladybug’s death, and he’s desperate. Every page gives him new insight into the girl he was realizing he never really knew. Every page reveals just how much Paris had failed its beloved heroine – how much he had failed her. Now Luka Couffaine is out for revenge, and the only person who could stop him is gone.

So here's what I've got.

We open on the death of Ladybug. It's the final showdown with Hawkmoth, and Viperion is the only 'temporary' hero there because LB thought they'd need Second Chance (and he's the only one she really trusts anymore). Viperion and Chat Noir are standing over LB's body, and Hawkmoth is cackling behind them, Mayura crumpled at his feet. He tells them he might not have won, but they haven't either - "Your hero is dead! Your precious Ladybug is DEAD!"

And Viperion walks over and just clocks him. He takes Hawkmoth and Mayura's Miraculous, but when he turns around Chat and Ladybug are gone. This leads him to believe Chat has LB's body/her Miraculous - but he's...confused. Did this mean they won? He hears the sirens approaching and waits for the police. Before they take hi away, Gabriel asks him: "Have you actually won anything? Is Paris truly safe?"

Two weeks pass. It's a mixed bag: Hawkmoth is defeated, but Chair Noir hasn't been seen or heard of since the defeat, and Ladybug is dead. Paris is safe but in mourning. Luka is guilt-ridden over Ladybug's death, convinced he could have prevented it and his failure to fix it makes him an unworthy Snake. He renounces Sass, and he's been keeping the Snake, Butterfly, and Peacock in a safe place.

In this 'verse, Luka doesn't know or suspect that Marinette is Ladybug. Immediately after the battle, Luka called Marinette. He needed to talk to her, to see her - but she never answered. He tried to go over the next morning, but Sabine calls him and lets him know Marinette wasn't in her bed that morning. They didn't hear her leave, but she's not answering her phone and they can't find her - has he seen her? So for two weeks he has been at the bakery almost constantly, tirelessly helping Tom and Sabine search for Marinette. No one can find her. No one's heard from her. And he's starting to go a little nuts.

(Note that this takes place during summer - HM was defeated right before break. Dingo's back in Australia for the summer, which is important for Reasons. Luka's not in school, stopped going to work, and is using pretty much all his time to help look for Marinette.)

So it's been two weeks. No akumas because no Hawkmoth, a dead Bug, and a missing Marinette. Luka's at the bakery, shambling around Marinette's room. Tom and Sabine are downstairs, waiting on a call from Roger who may have found a lead. And Luka's just poking around, spiraling, when he notices...the box with Marinette's diary is open. It wasn't open before. And there, on top of her diary, are two letters: one addressed to him and one addressed to Chat Noir.

So he reads his. It's a goodbye/Just In Case letter. She explains how she was hoping he wouldn't find it/she wouldn't need it. She'd set a magical lock on the box, so that if something happened and she didn't come back...and she's sorry. She's so sorry, because she never wanted to drag Luka back into this, but she needed him. She tells him her diary will explain everything: she wrote everything down, and she always thought it was because she just loved to journal, but she realized it was because she never had any proper training. The next Ladybug/Guardian deserves better. If she doesn't make it, the next LB/Guardian has to be prepared. Better than she was.

And Luka can't move. Can't breathe, can't think. Because the letter had been addressed to him, and he wasn't going to read it, but he had hoped maybe there was a clue, except the clue was...Marinette is Ladybug.

Ladybug is dead.

...Marinette is dead.

And it's all his fault.

And he reads her diary, convinced he had to have misunderstood...but it's all there. Everything. Becoming Ladybug, her spiraling feelings for Adrien, Chat being so pushy with his affections, her troubles with Lila and the class, the expulsion, Alya constantly pushing/pressuring her with Adrien, becoming Guardian, feeling like she had to bear everything because Chat was so lackadaisical/reckless/self-sacrificing, her growing feelings for Luka...and Luka realizes it's true. She was Ladybug, and she was going through so much more than she ever let on. And he realizes that all of them - even him - only made it worse. And they're not going to find Marinette, because Ladybug is dead, and they never found Ladybug's body, and...he just goes numb.

He walks out of her room. Out of the bakery. He doesn't answer Tom or Sabine when they ask if he's ok. He just...walks. And he doesn't fully realize any of this/where he was going/doing until he wakes up the next morning in his bed with tears still drying on his face. And Juleka's there, and she's like "bro wtf?" because he's freaking her the hell out, and he just says: "...she's gone."

And for the first time ever, Luka looks at Juleka and is...angry. Furious. And he can't talk to her. He realizes he blames her. He blames himself. He blames everyone: her 'friends', her classmates, her family, Paris...if they had all tried harder, been better, then she wouldn't be...if they hadn't left her all alone...

And Luka just Shuts Down. Everyone's worried about him, but he won't talk about it. He's closing himself off to everyone - even Juleka and Anarka. Sabine calls Anarka, because Luka went from being at the bakery every day helping the search to nothing, but Anarka has no idea?

Luka keeps rereading the diary. He's stuck in this loop of "I should have known," "we should have helped her," "this is our fault..."

And another week or so passes. There's still no sign of Marinette, except now Luka knows why - knows that she's never coming back. And he finally goes back to the bakery to tell Tom and Sabine what he knows, because it's cruel to put them through this any longer. He has the diary, her letter, and the three Miraculous stones with him. And they're all sitting in the kitchen, and he's trying to talk and failing to find the words.

The news is playing in the background: Nadja is doing a special on the rise and fall of Paris's beloved heroine. She comments how Chat Noir hasn't been seen since the "battle that freed Paris from Hawkmoth's reign of terror" and speculates that it's because he's mourning his lover. And Luka just...snaps. Shouts "That lying bitch!" at the television. Sabine asks if he's ok, but he's not - Ladybug is gone. Marinette is gone. And nobody cares. Nobody realized they caused it. And they need to be held accountable - they need to pay.

Tom and Sabine knew about Silencer, of course, but they've never seen calm, sweet Luka so angry before - and it terrifies them. And Tom tries to tell Luka that it's ok - Marinette's not gone, not like Ladybug is. They're going to find her. They can't give up hope. And Luka realizes her own parents didn't even know. They didn't notice. They did nothing to see or stop how she was hurting. And as much as he loves them, he realizes they must pay, too - and he's the only one who can make them. He has her diary. He has the Butterfly. He can make them all realize how alone they left her. He can make them all feel as hopeless as they made her feel - as he feels now.

And he tells Tom he's wrong: Marinette is dead. Marinette was Ladybug, and she's dead, and she's never coming home, and it's all their fault - even his. But they don't believe him, and he leaves without showing them the diary. He just feels...defeated.

Back at the Liberty, he comes home to find Juleka and Rose watching the same report. And he retreats to somewhere deep in the Liberty, somewhere private, where he can don the Butterfly. He starts flipping through the diary, and he finds a passage where Marinette was venting about Nadja: her journalistic integrity ("No wonder Alya thinks its' ok when THAT'S Paris's example!"), the Prime Queen interview when she was more interested in pushing LadyNoir than discussing Hawkmoth, about how she's ALWAYS been like that, how many times she's called her last-minute to watch Manon to chase a story...and it's important to note that none of these things are inherently bad, or that Marinette is saying Nadja's awful for them. She's venting in her diary, like you do. But Luka's in such a dark place by this point that it only makes things worse.

He tears the page out and keeps reading and rereading it. Keeps thinking how Nadja must pay. HE summons Nooroo, and before Nooroo can speak Luka tells him everything that happened. Hawkmoth's gone, but so is LB. That Paris let their Guardian fall. Nooroo is devastated because that means Tikki's gone, too, and what about the Miracle Box? Luka assures him he'll take care of the Box, but Paris has to answer for what they did. Nooroo agrees to help, gives Luka a basic rundown of the Butterfly's powers, and Luka transforms - except Nooroo didn't explain everything, and Luka didn't have Marinette's training, so he doesn't realize Nooroo doesn't need negative emotions. He thinks you have to upset someone to create an akuma.

So he takes the diary page to the TVi studios and confronts Nadja on air. He introduces himself as Shadowman. (For a hot second he considers introducing himself as 'Shadowmoth' - which I would like to point out this story was started before that name was dropped so fuck you Gabriel - but it's too close to 'Hawkmoth', and Hawkmoth was the one who killed Marinette. He refuses to be associated with him/take his name.) He tells Nadja and the world that Ladybug was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. That Marinette is dead because Ladybug is dead. And that Paris caused it.

He accuses Nadja of sensationalizing Ladybug and the akumas/battles. He reads the diary page on air. Nadja doesn't believe him at first, but then he gives her the page and she recognizes Marinette's handwriting. Realizes he's right. She's overcome by guilt/grief, and Shadowman creates an akuma. It goes into the diary page, and Prime Queen is reborn as Telecaster.

And this was all live. All of Paris is watching the broadcast, and they know they aren't safe.

Cut to where Adrien's been hiding. He sees the whole thing, and he can't believe it - until he hears the people in the studio screaming. He realizes he has to do something, because Paris isn't safe anymore, and this time there's no Ladybug to fix his mistakes.

Back at TVi, Telecaster is attacking everyone. As Nadja she was determined to tell the news, even to the point of amping up stories for ratings - but that was kinda forced by her producer? So she's going after the bigwigs at the studio for forcing her to be so ratings-focused/sensationalistic. And she's just destroying the studio, which is...fine. Paris has other media outlets...right? It's just chaos.

Chat Noir finally shows his face and demands to know what Shadowman thinks he's doing/who he is. Part of Shadowman's disguise is literal darkness, so he lets the shadows recede and lets Chat actually see him. And Chat realizes it's Viperion/Luka - and he pleads with him to stop. That LB/Marinette wouldn't want this - that she loved this city and knowing he was attacking it would kill her.

And it's just...the wrong thing to say. Shadowman says the city was what killed her, and they have to answer for it. That Chat has to answer for it. But Chat doesn't understand - he was LB's partner? Her friend? He was at the final battle with her - how is her death his fault?

But Shadowman tells him it's not his time yet. He is coming for him - he will get his Miraculous back for the Box - but not yet. He will get LB's Miraculous back (note that he's operating under the belief that Chat has LB's body/Miraculous, so he honestly believes CHat will just use them to purify the akuma and fix the damage - except Chat doesn't and can't). But Paris must suffer first, just like Marinette suffered. He disappears before Chat can go after him - and then Telecaster is attacking and he has to focus on her.

And Chat does defeat Telecaster, but there's no LB. No one to purify the akuma or fix the damage. He doesn't actually have her Miraculous, so what now? (This leads to Chat having a growing collection of butterfly jars with akumas and no idea how to fix it. Paris needs LB - he needs LB.)

After leaving Chat to deal with Telecaster, Shadowman goes back to the bakery to retrieve the Miracle Box. Marinette's skylight was always open (he always assumed it was because it's the roof no one can enter through there - except now he realizes it was easy access for Ladybug). Tom and Sabine hear noise from her room and burst in with umbrellas/paddles/whatever but freeze when they see Shadowman standing there with the Box. They try and stop him: they saw the report, they know who he is, they realize who Marinette was, and believe it's now their duty to protect the Box, since Marinette can't. And Shadowman is livid, because "You couldn't even protect her. You never even noticed...your home is supposed to be safe. Your parents are supposed to keep you safe. When did you ever do that?"

He akumatizees Tom and Sabine before he leaves: the dual-akuma Safe Harbor. There's no diary page left with them because Marinette never actually spoke out against her parents in the diary: it's just Luka's frustration with them. He leaves them there and goes back to the Liberty to retieve Sass, Duusu, and the diary.

Back at TVi, Chat realizes that if LB was Marinette and LB was the Guardian then Marinette would have the Miracle Box. He takes his coffee mug with the akuma and books it back to the bakery, except her skylight door is now locked? The balcony was always open to him, but is now locked? So he has to go in through the side/home door as Adrien.

Tom greets him. Is being very jittery/Concerned Parent and acting Weird - and so is Sabine. They're both worrying over him, apologizing about Gabriel, asking if he's ok - and he can't get a word in edgewise. Finally yells at them to stop - he needs to see Marinette's room. He needs to get the Miracle Box. And they just...freeze. They don't react at first. He tells them he knows they saw the news - everyone did - so they have to know that Marinette was LB. And LB had the Miracle Box/all the Miraculous gems, and he has to get them back. But they try and laugh it off (again, it's all very stilted), and he finally just transforms. Says he was LB's partner, and with her gone it's on him to protect the Box now. Except when he looks back at them the butterfly mask is over their eyes and he realizes they're akumatized, too - and he just gave his identity away to Shadowman.

Safe Harbor is like a Stepford version of Tom and Sabine. They're turning the bakery into a fortress because they couldn't keep Marinette safe, so now they're making it the ultimate safe haven. And even though Shadowman realizes Adrien's identity, Safe Harbor doesn't fully? They just see it as Adrien fighting back/resisting their protection - so they deem him a threat and start attacking him. (Again, no diary page here: the akumatized object is a family photo of Tom, Sabine, and Marinette.)

After the fight, Chat goes to trap the akuma in the coffee cup with the other one - only to realize the cup is empty. He remembers akumas can phase through objects, and he has no feasible way of trapping the akumas. But...Cataclysm destroyed Uncanny Valley. Could it maybe destroy akumas, too? Before he can try it, the akuma is released and a white butterfly flutters away.

Across the street, Shadowan is lurking and watching him. He doesn't understand why Chat didn't use Ladybug's powers to purify the akuma. Why isn't Chat fixing any of this? Does he want to watch the city burn? He thinks Chat's just being stubborn. Well, he can be stubborn, too. He has to up his game next time. He releases the akuma because, deep down, Shadowman is still Luka. He still cares about the city and the people he's going after. Maybe a little sliver of conscience not letting him go all-out yet?

So Luka returns to the Liberty long enough to retrieve Sass, Duusu, and the diary before he realizes he has to leave. Adrien is Chat, and Adrien was the one who chose him as Viperion, so Chat knows who he is/where to find him, too. Juleka catches him before he leaves, and says, "...I was afraid it was you. On the TV. Luka, you have to stop this." "None of you stopped. I don't see why I should, either."

Luka goes into hiding. He remembers reading about Master Fu's old shop in the diary. Master Fu had left it to Marinette as a safe house, but as far as he knows Chat doesn't go there anymore (no reason to) and doesn't realize he knows about it. (Eventually, later on, Chat does go there and catches Luka - so Luka ends up hiding out at Dingo's home, bc the Kings are in Australia for the summer/it's empty.)

Aaaand that's all I have of the outline so far. 😂 The idea is Luka creates a hit list using the diary: Nadja, Tom and Sabine, Mayor Bourgeois, Alya, The Girl Squad (yes even Juleka and Rose), Lila, Chloé, Marinette's class in general, Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, Master Fu, Chat Noir/Adrien, and finally Luka himself. He confronts each person with a page torn from the diary, and he uses Marinette's own words to convince them of their guilt. With the exception of Tom and Sabine, the akuma is always in the diary page. Chatdrien is Luka's 'last' target, because as Ladybug's partner he blames him most - except the real 'last target' is actually Luka.

He plans his final akuma almost like a suicide mission, hoping that Chat will Cataclysm him/take him out when Shadowman kills him, so they're both defeated simultaneously. Except...

Things don't go as planned. Because Ladybug wasn't dead. The Guardians were able to heal her. And she was never supposed to see Luka this way.

[atopearth]

Brothers Conflict (Passion Pink) Part 2 - Asahina Kaname Route

Okay, I'm not the most interested in Kaname since he feels like such a pervert lmao, but we'll see I guess loll. LOL I hate it when Kaname makes everything become so sexual, but I really like his voice so I'm confused😭 It's so cute how Ema is becoming more snarky with her responses to Kaname because he's so over the top with what he says lol. I love how Ukyo is the one who scolds Tsubaki and Kaname for troubling Ema with their incessant flirting, like geez to them lol! I love how Ukyo told Kaname to like get away from her forever😂😂 Anyway, I think I'm already kinda warming up to Kaname, just because on the dates, he's not so "crazy" about her and acts normal lol, but still really loving and sweet. I liked how he held her hand when she got a bit cold after the dolphin show, he probably knew she would be uncomfortable if he hugged her, so he did that at least and I think that was quite considerate of him considering how he usually acts haha. Lmao when the right option was to say that she wants to be like Kaname (kind and attentive), it was kinda cute how he laughed and thought she was cute for saying that hahaha.

Aww I love the zoo one where Ema doesn't go check out Tsubaki and Azusa filming because it's a day out with Kaname and she wants to properly spend time with him because of that. Lmao when Ema got turned off on going on the rollercoaster after Kaname said it would be wonderful to hold her hand and kiss her when it gets to the highest part on the ride lolll. Well, he didn't explicitly say her but he might as well have😂 Aww, even though I thought Ema was really reckless to overdo it looking for Wataru in the rain, but I think alike Kaname, it was really nice to see that she cares so much for the brothers that she was so obstinate about finding him before caring about herself. I would have loved to see Kaname hug her~~ I agree with Kaname though, there's something about listening to the waves at night, seeing the sky and the ocean kinda merge together, and you start to think about how vast everything is and how small other things are. It really helps to calm you down, but I guess at the same time it can be unsettling though haha. Kaname is such a sweet talker to say that he would save her before she would even get scared or cry hahaha. I definitely love the more serious Kaname, there's something really mature and alluring about him when he's not joking around haha. LOL when he went over to the water and tripped over seaweed😂😂 It was so cute how he pulled her into the water too for laughing at him. OMG I DIDN'T EXPECT THAT!! I knew he was going to be corny and say that love is mightier than the pen and the sword but I honestly didn't think he would kiss her so suddenly!!! The CG is so beautiful btw. Something I wish Masaomi's route had was something like a kiss CG though, that would have been so nice, they were just so polite with each other all the time, it was kinda sad we never got to see anything more romantic, it was still cute though of course but yeah~ I'm really enjoying Kaname's route now.

Okay, I died when Ema fed Kaname her Bento when they went to the park, like omggg that's so cute. Honestly though for Ema, regardless of whether she likes Kaname or not, I think it's a bit hard to act normal with him after he kissed her like that on the family holiday lol. Omggg, Kaname was pretty pushy, but honestly him asking if he could kiss her again and stuff was pretty hot lolll! Especially when he licked or kissed her ear or something loll omg. He's moving wayy too fast for Ema's innocent mind haha. But at least even though he's pushy, he's never really forced her to do anything, and the drive to the night view was something she was okay with going to with Kaname. But she did trust him to not overdo it and he did push her past her boundaries a bit so yeah...it was hot but also I felt bad for Ema. Okay, Kaname apologised to her, that's good. I guess her avoiding him and Iori telling Kaname how down she seemed helped him realise he might have gone a bit too far lol. Omgg when drunk Subaru pushed Ema down though, like it was hot, but I felt so bad for her because she was scared, I think Azusa comforting her after he saw them though was what made my heart melt. He's so sweet, I love Azusa😭 Anyway, ever since I checked Kaname's VA and realised that it's Suwabe Junichi (VA for Archer from Fate/stay night), I was like, no wonder why I love his voice!! Hahaha, and yes, now I like Kaname even more loll. I'm so glad Ukyo was there to hit Kaname at the cultural festival, lmao at the things he says sometimes, like seriously, super inappropriate lol. But lmao at Kaname announcing to her classmate that he's Ema's boyfriend loll.

Honey in cafe au lait?? Is that a thing??🤔 Anyway, I usually hate it when the guy is jealous and possessive, but honestly when Kaname got jealous and mad, I couldn't help but feel a bit happy because it was kinda..cute? Hahaha. On the other hand, Azusa being a bit "mad" that Kaname took Ema away was cute too, I love him loll. It's kinda interesting how Ema always thinks Kaname is playing around with her and isn't serious at all, but then she does stuff like stay over in his room hahaha, anyway, it's cute how he always says good morning to her~ When Ema asked if they could sleep together (since she couldn't sleep), I knew Kaname would find it difficult to hold himself back, but dangg, the kisses🥰🥰🥲 Awww Kaname let her use his arm as a pillow, that's actually really cute. Anyway lmao I find it hilarious that Juli the squirrel is calling her pitiful for spending Christmas Eve playing games hahahah. It's kinda cute how hardcore Ema is when it comes to games though lol. Lmaoo at Yusuke and Tsubaki's new year's wishes, they're so silly😂 It was kinda interesting to see both Ema and Kaname bury the kitten, mainly because it was nice to hear that the idea of the dead's souls/hearts returning to the side of those who think about them is a nice way to view death? Honestly though, I really want to like Kaname but his "romantic scenes" have been irking me quite a bit, especially the last one sleepover CG(?), like I really like how hot he sounds and I alwaysss get enraptured by his voice but seriously, he needs to stop lol. Like, if Ema was more receptive to his advances, I think I wouldn't be as uncomfortable but she's always telling him no and to stop it, but he just continues and says afterwards that he held himself back already. Like excuse me dude, if you held yourself back, you wouldn't be practically forcing yourself on Ema and touching her without her permission especially when she says no. Like seriously, he's the adult here! Anyway, yeah I feel like the only time I liked him was around the kiss scene lol. On the other hand, I find it interesting that Ema still thinks Kaname is just playing around with her when he's kissed her and stuff. To be fair though, he's always teasing her and he's never seriously told her his feelings in a way that she would understand as not playing with her so I'd say it's more his fault, especially since she's younger and more naive, and she considers him her brother so...

Very Kaname-like to give Ema perfume for White Day and then tell her to only use it when she goes out with him haha. HAHAHA, I just realised I missed out on a funny zoo date where Kaname asks Ema what animal she thinks he would prefer compared to Juli, and she said it probably doesn't really matter to him because he likes human girls the most😂😂 I mean, it's nice that Ema finally realised her feelings when she saw Kaname with another girl and Tsubaki and Yusuke said he always does that and is never serious about any girl, but it was pretty random and sudden tbh lol. I feel like it could have been done better especially since most of Kaname and Ema's recent scenes have just been him "attacking" her lol. I'm glad that Tsubaki who is usually as playful as Kaname is, is now shouting at Kaname telling him to stop playing around with her if he isn't serious, because really, if she doesn't understand and think so, there's no point if he thinks he is serious. Oh wow, did Kaname just break his phone to prove that he's serious about her and won't talk to other people? Lol! Whaaat! Kaname quit being a monk and went to his mother's company?? Honestly though, I'm rather suspicious of this monk thing, like was he actually a host all along? Lol, I mean, we never actually got to see him do anything related to his work this whole entire route lol. Anyway, the kyodai/brother ending is really weird considering the flow of events and how Kaname kissed her and stuff for alllll those months, like that doesn't make sense!! Lol anyway doesn't matter. Btw, Kaname in the epilogue(?) is sooo hot in a suit, and omggg at Ukyo discovering their relationship in the worst way especially with how Kaname says stuff lol. Otherwise, the CG was niceeee 🥰

Overall, I loveee Suwabe Junichi's voice and I really think he made Kaname a better character than he actually was lmao. Honestly, I really enjoyed the beginning of this route and I really thought I'd love their relationship because of how forward Kaname is, but I think from the middle onwards, I lost a lot of interest because of how clunky the flow of events were, and the events themselves were rather disappointing I guess. Most of the events that happened after the kiss was mostly just Kaname "teasing" Ema and a lot of them were more uncomfortable than sexy even though his voice really made me love and hate it lolll. My heart was confused haha. Kaname does a lot of things that are a bit over for me especially since Ema isn't very receptive towards it and tells him to stop but he really doesn't and touches her quiteeee a bit, so yeah I didn't like it all that much, but at the same time I could never really understand Ema either? Lol. Like, she seemed so confused throughout the route about Kaname and I feel like she only liked him because I "chose" him through the dialogue options than because she really liked him lol. I think a lot of it was just awkward, especially her revelation that she likes him, like lady, you saw him with Hikaru before too lol, but anyway their "confession" of love to each other was also pretty underwhelming considering how frustrating their relationship was throughout the route lol. Otherwise, I loved Kaname's voice and if you ignore how much he touches Ema and says so many inappropriate crap, he's actually pretty sweet and loving. I definitely prefer Masaomi overall though haha.

[imthepunchlord]

Alya Best to Least

Marinette, Adrien, Nino, Kagami

Alya is a pretty spread out individual that makes her one of the uncommon characters who can actually match with up to three miraculouses, which sets up her potential as another miraculous prodigy like Marinette. Alya has full capability of being a teamplayer and follower, but she has her moments of leadership, as we see that Marinette and Nino will follow Alya, and between the two, she is usually the one who takes charge of girl squad meetings. She is a very straight forward, direct, and pushy individual at times (though she often means well in her pushiness). While known for her flamboyance, excitment, and being a reactive character, she does have her moments of calm that allow her to be a solid supportive friend when required (and when the writers allow it). And with her curiosity and drive, she is eager and ready to get involved in whatever catches her interest. Between her broad imagination, how reactive she can be, how involved she likes to be, and having capability of thinking and planning, there are three miraculouses that suit her best and can work off her strengths. 

Alya’s best are Bee, Turtle, and Peafowl. All allow her to be direct and have a support role in battle, and meet different aspects to her. Bee works off her energy and straightforwardness; Turtle plays off her wanting to be a supportive friend and to be on the front lines; Peafowl plays off her quick ideas and preferring to play by her own rules. 

Bee matches Alya with her straightforward characteristics, being active, and her goal to see her interests through to the end. This miraculous also leaves it open if she wants to be a follower or leader. And as Alya is not an aggressive character herself despite how direct she can be, this won't be a power that's recklessly used by Alya. And as Venom requires some subtlety and calculation in use, I have a lot of faith in Alya using it well. Seen in Darkblade, she can be crafty and sneaky, catching Chloe off guard as she’s recording her. In terms of symbolism, this miraculous matches her as a character as bees are very involved with each other, and expect things to run as they should. This matches Alya as a very involved character and can work off her pushiness as she expects things to go a certain way. 

Growth wise, this expands on her critical thinking and tactics. As Venom requires being smart and sneaky in use, this can elaborate on how Alya approaches a situation, while not discouraging her directness. 

With Pollen I see a similar outcome with Marinette, Pollen would be a good source of support and devotion, and can grow through her interactions with Alya who will want a kwami who feels more like her equal. She will not shy away from Pollen’s praise though, she would enjoy the validation that she’s a queen. 

With Turtle, it also matches Alya as a very direct and straightforward character, but works more off her as a supportive friend that’s here to be in the heat of things, but not being the direct confronter. As pushy and direct as Alya can be, she’s not an aggressive character. Marinette’s actually more likely to throw hands than Alya (and that’s when push comes to shove). As seen in Origins, Alya ultimately backed off from Chloe, taking Marinette with her as a show that she chose to sit with Marinette herself instead of it being through Chloe’s own decision. This largely shows she’s ready to be in the heat of things, but not be the confronter. For Turtle, this works as you want the user to be in the thick of it, but have that goal more set around watching over allies than facing the direct conflict themselves. This isn’t an aggressive miraculous about fighting, this is more about having your friends’ back and being a shield for them. Similarly to Adrien, this offers Alya protection as well as she does have tendencies of self endangerment. 

Growth wise, this can help her be smarter on her approach without discouraging her involvement. And as a miraculous that can count for self-protection, can ideally help her learn to be more aware of her own safety without being reckless with it, but not discouraging her from involving herself. 

With Wayzz, I see them getting along, if headbutting occasionally as Alya can be headstrong and is on the fiery side of things whereas Wayzz is more passive but grounded. Alya as a reactive character that is on the go, she can be too responsive at times, which can lead to Wayzz calling her out, reminding her to slow down and consider everything, not what's before her. 

With Peafowl, it matches with Alya’s tendency to play by her own rules and makes use of her imagination. She gets to make whatever golem she desires, and allows her to think and create what she believes would be best choice. As every golem is made from a section of her fan, this can allow flexibility and a learning curve if the first idea she latches onto didn’t work. This miraculous allows flexibility in where she wants to be in the field. It’s not a must for Peafowl to be in the field but if it wants to, it can. This miraculous does still keep in her being a support role as she and her golems can actively assist allies in fights. She can even take on a protective role while her golem takes on the aggressive, taking on a role that she herself isn’t inclined to do. 

Growth wise, this would expand on her quick-thinking and creativity, and add onto her observation skills and detail gathering as she needs to consider what would be a desirable golem to use. 

With Duusu, they would be a very energetic and chaotic pair. Duusu’s goofy energy and flare would add onto Alya’s, which could make Alya an even more expressive character than she already is. With very similar energy and being affectionate characters, I see them becoming very fast friends. In terms of advisement, I do see Duusu reminding Alya to consider everything and to truly look and not latch onto what’s on the surface. 

As Alya is solid with 3/5, she has no least fit, but these two are a not so ideal matches. She can technically be able to pull them off, but she would struggle more with Butterfly and Fox than the other three. 

Starting with Butterfly, Alya matches Butterfly that she wants to help people, she wants to lift them up and push them to face their challenges head on. She can also know what to say to reassure, support, and comfort people who are in need to hear what they need to hear. She’s also open to reaching out to new people, is fully capable of sending others out to assist another (Kung Food sending Adrien over as translator), and this miraculous can allow her to be a leader or to be a teammate, and Butterfly is flexible for where in the field she can be. On surface level, this miraculous is very appealing as a match. But the issue is Alya’s pushiness, tendencies of being oblivious and inconsiderate, and she can be dismissive of others. As much as Alya can be helpful emotionally, she does have tendencies of being too pushy and is oblivious of the anxiety she can cause. Biggest example is her trying to help Marinette which has left Marinette a very anxious mess as she pushed Marinette forward before she herself is ready to go forward. And to use this miraculous well, you need to have an idea as to when to back off and let go; something Alya would struggle with as she’s the sort that likes to see things to the end and can be dismissive of others. Biggest example is New York special, Marinette tells Alya she wants to move on from Adrien but Alya keeps trying to push the Adrienette agenda, ignoring Marinette’s words as getting these two together is her biggest goal. 

Growth wise this miraculous has potential, it works to Alya’s strength and want to help people and being emotionally invested, and can help her learn to be more aware of others feelings and conscious of what they’re telling her. That would come with learning to listen and opening up her mindset more and putting some distance between herself and others issues. But to learn these things will take time and chances are good that she can wind up overwhelming her champions around the start of using this miraculous. 

While I do see Alya and Nooroo as an amiable pair, I do think she has more energy than he would like. Very soft spoken, I don’t see him always catching Alya’s attention, not to say he never would though as she can be calming and listening when she wants to be. 

Now Fox. Like Butterfly, this has a lot of surface level appears and should be a good match. Alya has a lot of characteristics that make her a good fox: she is curious, she is willing to be sneaky and use underhanded tactics, she has an eye for detail, a broad imagination, and is a risk taker. This miraculous is a support role and also plays by its rules, which also fits her. The issues though stem that Alya is a very straight forward character, both in her actions and how she thinks, this leads to her illusions being very basic. To do a masterful illusion, it requires having all the facts, and taking a moment to consider what the best option is; Alya as a reactive character who latches onto the first thought she gets doesn’t set her up to do immediate skilled illusions that will be elaborate and complex. Another issue is that this is a limiting miraculous for Alya in the field. Fox is meant to be more background support, manipulate from the shadows. Alya doesn’t have that level of cunning or manipulation required for a good Fox at the start, nor is she the sort to step back and work from the shadows. She’s incredibly limited as Fox, like the s2 finale, when you watch Rena Rouge closely, she does little to nothing in that fight which made her inclusion pointless and costing as her being turned into Rena Rage had Carapace immediately give up. The last big issue is all with Lila and how they wrote Alya’s interactions with her. She’s not a very encouraging Fox to see knowing how easily led and manipulated she is. If she had Bee or Turtle assigned to her instead, this wouldn’t be as big of an issue as those aren’t about looking deeper into things. But she is the Fox, the supposed to be master trickster and manipulator, and she’s being easily lied to. It’s niether impressive or encouraging. 

Growth potential is there, but you’re not going to have an immediately good Fox on the team when Alya has it. She is limited with one illusion to use per transformation, but she can gradually learn to get better and more elaborate with her illusions. Especially if she allows creativity to flow and consider more options than the first idea that comes to mind. She can also learn subtlety and get better at working people around her. This can also work on her observation skills and looking more into things than trusting them at surface level. 

I see Trixx largely having a similar dynamic with Alya as he would with Adrien. At the core friendly and playful, but easily leading and manipulating her to what he will perceive as the best route for her. This will help her grow and question more and consider all details, feeding into her curious nature. This will largely start out one sided in terms of mental equality, but I do see Alya getting wise to Trixx game as she grows mentally. 

Between Ladybug and Cat, Alya should receive Ladybug. Like, neither of them are an entirely ideal fit, but between the two, Ladybug would be better for Alya. 

I can see Alya having some potential for the Ladybug as it requires quick thinking, having an eye for detail, and being quick to respond to situations; but it also requires taking in all factors and thinking outside the box. As Alya works off the first idea that comes to mind, Lucky Charm will be a struggle as its usually not so basic or clear what to use it for first. I do her able to figure it out, just not immediately. Despite this, it would allow Alya to be more involved than Fox would as the Ladybug does have to be in the field though not close to the heat, which is where Alya would like to be. 

Alya and Tikki though would be a good match over all, though I do see them headbutting occasionally. Tikki can help Alya learn to be more conscious of her friends and their feelings, pointing out when Alya’s pushing too much, and Alya in turn is more than capable of not letting Tikki have full sway over her and know her limits. Unlike Marinette, who naturally wants to please, Alya is not a pleaser and won’t take on more than she can chew. No risk of a developing Atlas complex with her having Tikki. 

Cat would have a lot of the appeals of Bee, plus Turtle’s natural set up to protect and watch out for allies. And of course, Alya wouldn’t be reckless with Cataclysm and be smart with it, using only when necessary. Big issue is that this could be more aggressive than what Alya would like. Cat has a role that has it be up close and personal with enemies, to be very engaging and involved. Alya will face that heat, but she’s not one to prefer really fighting it. She’d be able to get it down quickly but it wouldn’t be her preference. 

With Plagg, he can be a nice contrast to Alya, not just in fun interaction potential, but also in his personality as he is Alya’s opposite (lazy and not one to involve himself). Ideally when Alya’s getting too caught up in herself, Plagg can help bring her back down to the ground and help her slow down, but I can see potential possibilities of them having similar issues that Adrien and Plagg have in canon: Alya deciding that Plagg isn’t always worth listening to. I can see her listening to Plagg more than Adrien, but I can also see her dismissing him quite a bit as well. 

[seancekitsch]

You Need Hands: Part of the Prize Buck Series

Warnings: smut, talking about abusive relationships, talking about drug use, unsafe bondage practices bc i am not a sex guru i am a writer of two flawed people, codependancy, praising

Klaus is surprised, to say the least when you come into the apartment raging, fingernails chewed off and eyes red as if you'd been crying on your walk home from work. Work was your only place, save for home, where you seemed truly happy. He notices your shaking and the barely contained rage behind the clench of your jaw.

“Hey! Hey, is everything alright?” he puts a hand out to stop you from pacing, and you turn on him, eyes glassy and red.

“Do you know what she said about us?”

What the fuck? Who would have said that? You talk to his siblings. Your boss. And. Oh. Okay, you talk to Gwen, your roommate from your University days that you recently gotten in touch with again. Klaus doesn't like her. It’s hard to get on Klaus’ bad side, but she seemed… pushy. Not pushy. What's the word he’s trying to use? Controlling? Scheming? Yeah, those are the ones. Accuracy cuts deeper, you always tell him. He pets your arm, feeble in trying to calm you down but after a few ragged open-mouthed breaths, you’re ready.

“She called us Sid and Nancy,” you continue, “She said we live in a sex den above a bodega slowly killing each other, if not outright doing it. She thinks you’re gonna get me high again. She basically met up with me up to judge me and tell me everything I’m doing wrong. I didn't even get to tell her about that paella we made last week for your whole family.”

“Oh, she’s kidding right? I’d make a terrible Nancy.” That makes you pause in your tracks, confusion lighting up your features.

“No- Klaus she thinks you’re Sid.”

“I’m not Sid.” He reaffirms, pulling you in and wrapping his arms around your frame. Noticing how the candlelight catches on your hair, making you look like a biblical angel, one of those terrifying fiery things, hard to look at but you’re all his. He knows how you feel right now, better than anyone. He’s used to being the one discounted and lectured. His own siblings, as much as he loves them dearly, only just started trusting him in the span of the past two years. It felt like something divine, that despite how mean and secluded you were at first, how you trusted him so deeply so quickly. He’d known you for almost a year, and in that year dragged you to another century, gotten you involved in a cult, exposed you to his family, ghosts, challenging and difficult situations other people could have easily cracked under without disease plaguing their mind. Klaus is capable of great cruelty and recklessness, he knows it. He knows you shouldn't trust someone who has seen and done the frankly fucked up shit he has, but you do. And he trusts you fully in turn, if not more. Even when you refused to be open with him, pushed him away; the days when you would have rather stuck pins in your hand than speak to him because he was loud and you were too weak to handle it.

He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding when he feels your head dip and fall against his chest.

“Is she right?” your voice is far away, empty. Needing some empty comfort. “Are we killing each other? Do we suck?”

“Hey, c’mon, don't be upset,” he shushes you, “We’re good for each other. We have jobs! No relapses! Bet your ex could never say that.” He couldn't, your ex was part of the reason you were here, which Klaus wasn't exactly upset about because it meant he had you and no one else did, but you probably could have benefitted from years free from an active addiction that was more or less funded by the competitive nature of your work and home life.

“I’m not upset. I’m pissed.”

That solves it for Klaus. When you're pissed, you clam up. He doesn't want to emotionally lose you for the rest of the day, or worse, the whole weekend.

“We’re not killing each other,” he confirms, “Pretty sure you can't kill me anyway.”

You snort and swat at his ribs, but then your hand doesn't leave him after the hit, instead slinking from his side to his back, coming to rest on his shoulder blade. You're holding him, which means he hasn't lost you.

“Oh, wicked thing, I’ll show you how good I am for you.”

You sigh, and feeling the pricking of your nails on his back, he takes that as permission. His hand begins roaming your body, groping at your chest, squeezing at your ass as you grab onto him, holding him for stability as he keeps moving, his large hands making you moan.

“Klaus…” you trail off. What are you trying to say? What are you asking for? You don't know.

“How many days have you been clean?” He whispers against your skin.

“One hundred and ninety three.” You know it exactly.

“See? She’s wrong,” and he goes back to peppering your face with kisses as his hands work to pull your skirt out of the way. Its dirty the way he pulls your clothes out of the way to fondle at you, to rub against your cunt through your underwear, to pull that underwear aside and find you wet and waiting. His other arm wrapped around the small of your back, holding your rumpled skirt gathered in his hand.

“I’ll be real good for you,” he affirms, slipping a finger into you, and then another. You grip onto his shoulders now, enough to keep you standing when your legs want to crumble under his thrusting. He pushes in with ease, like you were made to take his fingers, your breath hitching and tiny whines falling from your lips. His forehead dips to press against yours, sweat beginning to form on his brow. Its dizzying, how deep his long fingers can be inside you, how full and whole you feel as he holds you against him, making you shake and moan as he props you up, letting you feel like a ragdoll at his mercy.

“Hey,” he nudges you with his nose, “Hey, Lover, look over there.”

He shifts his head to the left, and your head follows. You're face to face with the image of yourself in the cheap and grimy thrift shop mirror you had bought. You see how strong his lean muscles are, how they move against you, hold you close and safe.

“Look how fuckin’ good you look.” You nod, you have to agree, heavy bedroom eyes stare back at you, your lips parted almost pornographically. Is this how Klaus sees you all the time? He picks up the pace, eagerly moving his hips along with his hand, needing to feel some release and friction himself as he works you over, your voice raising an octave as he gets rougher, until your eyes close tightly; your body stiffens, shakes, and you can hear him praising you. You're doing so well, that's it, all for me, right on my hand, you're so sexy. Your voice comes out in a shudder. Trying to thank him as your muscles twitch and you look into his beautiful green eyes.

“No, no, no, shhhh,” he hushes you again, smoothing your hair down as he leads you to walk on wobbly legs over to the bed to sit, not bothering to fix your skirt. Your eyebrow quirks as he moves to remove his belt fully, not just unbuckle it to remove his pants.

But you wise up quickly, watching him grab your hands and start to wrap the belt around your wrists. You have bondage rope somewhere around here, but this is hot, and he told you to be quiet, so you don’t make a sound. He moves your hands at the wrist, checking for you to make sure the belt won't hurt you, then pushes you back onto the bed, staring at invisible patterns on the ceiling as you lift your hand for them, belted wrists landing at the other edge of the bed. You can feel him push your skirt up even more, then you feel his skin on yours, his bare thighs rubbing against the inside of yours, then the sensation of Klaus rubbing his cock against you. Fuck, you love his cock. You love him. He watches your expression, your gasps, your sighs from lips plumped by bruising, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs against you. You're a fucking goddess. He doesn't deserve you, despite trying to carnally prove that he does. Youre so fucking good, you’ve helped better each other. Fuck what anyone says. He just hopes you believe it too.

“So fuckin’ good, Lover. Oh, I’m gonna worship this cunt,” he sighs, more to himself than you.

“Don’t make me wait, Klaus,” you command, but then whine as he enters you. Everything feels like so much, so much.

“Sensitive, Fraulein?”

“I can handle it.”

“Of course you can,” he agrees, setting his pace

He hikes one of your legs up onto his hip, then hikes his leg up onto the bed, getting a better angle to fuck you, but also to lean in and kiss you, his mustache brushing your chin, lips attaching themselves to the underside of your jaw as he kisses you fully, pressing his love into your skin.

He covers your body with his own, protective, possessive, and devoted; he fucks you through another high, making you scream into his mouth as he doesn’t slow his pace, once again shushing you and singing your praises. I love you, you look so good like this, let me live the rest of my life like this between your thighs. You want to let him take, and take, and take. Such a thoughtful, loving, loyal person. He gives. You want him to give.

“Klaus,” you sound breathless, “Klaus, come inside me, please.”

You beg, wanting him completely. He lifts your other leg, before climbing completely on the bed with you, his sweaty chest dropping against yours, palming at your breast as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, needing to feel the closeness of you as he comes.

He comes quietly, with a staggered gasp and your lips kissing his hair. One of his hands finds yours bound above your head, and grasps them both in his. He kisses your neck as he stills, body relaxing as he comes down.

You stay like that for almost a half hour before the phone on the wall rings and snaps you out of your loving haze.

[stusbunker]

AGA: Spit It Out

A Supernatural Denny AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other Characters: John and Mary, Jody, Garth, Anna, Castiel, Sam, (mentioned) Benny, Jo, Jack

Word Count: 4222

Summary: Dean has the toughest conversation of his life. Cas asks questions. Sam is a little shit.

Warnings: Homophobic language, internalized biphobia, coming out

Series Masterlist

Shout out to the amazing @cracksinthewalls​ for all her help on this series.

       Dean hadn’t realized how terrified he was of facing his father until he broke down at Jo’s. It hadn’t felt like something he would ever have to do until then. Now, it felt as inevitable as a death sentence.

John had always been a huge force in Dean’s life, but since he had gotten hurt to the point of disability, he was less of a presence and more of an imprint. Letting down his folks was the ultimate sin, one Dean had fought his whole life to resist. He knew they loved him, but would it be enough for them to see beyond the idea of Dean they had in their heads. Could they love a pansy?

His mother would be easier to bring on board; he was her favorite whether she’d admit it or not. On the other hand, John was a Marine, he was a mechanic; he didn’t deal with feelings or things he thought were reckless, selfish choices. Dean had never been selfish a day in his life, but this was something that seemed worth it. Benny was worth it. Dean couldn’t give up on family, and he needed them in his corner if it was going to work at all.

First, Dean just needed to get the words out.

The wind whipped through the neighborhood he grew up in like a child unleashed upon the playground. Direction and speed split its focus until it stilled long enough to move on to the next distraction. Dean parked on the street, letting the familiar siding and newer front door center him as he approached, trying to ignore the uneasiness that was unfurling in his gut. Sam was having lunch with some guys from high school who were in town early for Thanksgiving, granting Dean this window of privacy.

Not that Dean told Sam anything. He had done enough talking at Jo’s, even Benny didn’t know everything that he’d been processing the last few days. He hadn’t wanted to make any promises. Dean walked into the house, calling out his greeting, never one to knock at home. John was parked in front of the television in the living room while Mary sent her welcome from somewhere in the basement. 

“Hey! Talk about timing, lunch is just about done,” John teased. “What brings you ‘round? Sammy’s out for the day.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Kinda why I came,” Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of jeans, still standing.

“Jayhawks are playing at two if you wanna stay,” John offered. Dean hummed in uncertainty. John dragged his feet from the ottoman to sit up and face Dean better. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t talk about over lunch. I’m gonna go see if Mom needs anything,” Dean nodded towards the basement steps and left John to his football.

Dean bowed his head as he reached the bottom of the steps, clearing the duct work to find Mary folding laundry at the long narrow table they used for everything from school projects to writing out Christmas cards. 

“I thought that was you,” Mary said pleasantly. “Did your dad tell you lunch was almost ready?”

She dropped the shirt she had finished atop an awkward pile and opened her arms for a hug. Dean scooped her up, probably a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t care and she didn’t mind. A simple gasp told him she noticed though.

“So--- what’s the occasion?” Mary asked, turning back to the basket.

“Nothing really, just wanted to catch up,” Dean downplayed, grabbing a pair of jeans to help. Neither of them pointed out that they’d see each other the next day for Sunday dinner. Mary welcomed the visit as much as Dean was dreading it.

“Your father had physical therapy yesterday. I don’t think they get paid enough,” Mary conspired with a heavy side eye.

Dean chuckled, “I’m guessing not his at least.”

“And supposedly I’m the stubborn one,” Mary muttered. “If you want to make some sandwiches, I’m almost done down here. I don’t want to spread the soup too thin.”

Dean nodded and handed her the sweater he had folded last. “Sounds good, anything in particular?”

“Just don’t let him trick you into letting him have the salami, his doctor says he needs to watch the fats,” Mary warned.

Dean perched against the edge of the steps, listening. He slapped the banister and headed back upstairs. “On it.”

The kitchen’s layout hadn’t changed in thirty years and Dean quickly set up an assembly line with poultry, condiments, lettuce and tomatoes. He tucked the cheese with the processed deli meat back in the drawer, hiding the temptation from John. But not before stealing a slice for his and Mary’s sandwiches. He set the table, like hundreds of times before. John’s spot was the head of the table, Mary to his left. Dean set his own plate on John’s right, a seat he fought Sam for more often than not.

Dean stirred the pot, which was much more a vat, of chicken noodle soup. John’s approach was announced by the steady clink of his cane on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Dean pulled out John’s chair before settling down to his heaping sandwich and extra large bowl of soup.

John lifted the top tier of his sandwich, judging the contents. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dean just chewed purposely and gave John innocent eyes.

“Figures,” John muttered before bellowing through the house. “Mary! Soup’s ready.”

They ate comfortably, fighting the cold outside with the warmth of the familiarity of a shared meal. The grease from the chicken made bubbles in the broth and Dean blew across the surface mixing them back in. Meanwhile Mary made small talk and John teased her about her part time job. 

“Well, I need to get out of the house, or we’d kill each other, you know that,” Mary flicked John’s ear as she cleared their bowls. 

“How’s that going?” Dean asked, eyes fixed on his mother’s face. Panic clogged his ears at the thought of never seeing her again.

“‘S fine. People are picky, but it isn’t bad for what it is. Better than being behind a desk or answering the phone,” Mary explained of her work at the local sporting goods store. “Friday will be nuts, lots of sales, but it’s not like we would have been doing anything anyway.”

“So, Bobby and Ellen’s on Thursday?” Dean verified.

“Yup, dinner’s at 1. He says you’re on pie duty?” John asked, surprised.

“That I am. Sam’s stuck with sides, so please remind him. I don’t want to show up and only have rolls and turkey,” Dean asked Mary.

“Can do. We’re bringing the---,” Mary started.

“Cranberry sauce,” Dean and John said in unison.

“And the wine!” Mary said in dismay at their laughter. “Jerks.”

John and Dean grinned as Mary rolled her eyes. 

“So, was that everything? It seemed like you had something to hash out with us,” John asked Dean, picking up the last of his sandwich.

“Yeah, mostly. I gotta check with Ellen first, but I might be bringing somebody along,” Dean rushed out. He tipped his bowl back, finishing the final dregs.

“A special someone?” Mary asked delicately, looking at John in hope.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean grunted, standing to grab another sandwich.

“Well, is it somebody we know?” Mary prodded, not trying to be too pushy, but obviously curious. “Dean, why are we just now hearing about this?”

Mary’s tone had shifted to apprehension, Dean felt their silent conversation behind his back as he slapped the ingredients together. He shrugged in response, unable to find a proper jumping off point.

He tried to remain casual, but the dred had clawed back up. Without enough wherewithal to speak, Dean sat back down and ate, drawing out his confession to the point of confusion. 

John chuckled at Mary’s suspicion. “He’s nervous. Let the boy get it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the phrase. “I’m thirty six, Dad,” he said through a mouthful.

“Is that right? Coulda fooled me.” John tisked his tongue. Mary ignored his teasing tone.

“Dean, what’s the matter? What’s this girl’s problem that’s making you act so--- cagey all the sudden?” Mary asked anxiously. John slipped Mary’s hand into his, silently soothing her as they waited for Dean’s answer.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean started, sitting back, and shooting for blase. “Turns out I actually like guys, too. So, uh, there’s no problem with a girl. I just wanted to bring, um, this guy I’ve been seeing, Benny, to Bobby and Ellen’s.”

Mary inhaled and clenched John’s hand. John stopped stroking Mary’s arm and twisted in his seat. Dean exhaled slowly, like a pin prick in a deflating balloon, he couldn’t take any of it back. Dean took a chance and looked out through his lashes, face tilted towards his plate. First to Mary’s blue worry and then a flicker to John’s almost black disbelief.

John swallowed and ducked low enough to force Dean’s eyes onto his. "You tellin' me you take it up the ass, is that what you're sayin?"

"Jesus. John!" Mary reproached. But neither man's glare faltered. The dark challenge in John's eyes caused Dean's lips to turn up in a silent snarl.

Dean finally broke the silence. "You really want me to answer that?" 

"I think I have a right to know exactly the kind of man my son is," John countered.

Mary stood abruptly. “He's your son! What's the matter with you?! You asking Sam his jerkin' habits now that he's single, while you're at it?!" She went to the sink, bowing over it as if it would cleanse the images the conversation had conjured.

“Oh, hell, that’s not the point,” John muttered.

Dean had been arrested in high school for drag racing. The whole ride home from the police station he was worried what his dad was gonna do to him once they got home, it was the same quiet rage that had terrified Dean as a child. But it was Mary’s disappointment when they walked in the door that tore into Dean to the point of scarring. He could live with his father’s anger, Sam had taught Dean how to slowly stand up to John over the years.

But Dean didn’t know if he could live in the shadow of Mary’s disappointment. He needed somebody to see him as himself, not just a screw up or a queer. 

Dean sighed. "I am your son. But if you can't handle this, Dad. I don't think you have any right to know me anymore." He looked from Mary to John as the last sentence left his mouth. Maybe he was asking too much after all.

Everyone in the room froze. But not even an ultimatum like that could stop John Winchester from digging himself deeper. "Christ, son, Jo really did a number on you, didn't she? Made you turn tail to the other team all together."

"Leave Jo out of this,” Dean spit out as he stood up. “This is about me and who I'm with now." He stalked the long way around the table, shoving chairs in as he went. He approached Mary alone, carefully, one terrified animal to another. "You'd love him, Mom. He cooks, runs his own business, even got an old Harley in the garage."

Mary couldn't hide her tears, but she tried to smile through them for Dean's sake. "Sounds like a catch, sweetie. But what matters is if you love him. You don't need our say so."

"Don't I?" Dean replied sadly before glancing over Mary’s shoulder to John. "You know Jo told me to give you the finger if you couldn’t see how happy I am. How important Benny is to me. And maybe she's right. But I wanted this to work. I wanted to keep the family together. That's why I'm here. The rest is up to you, Old Man."

Dean kissed his mother on the cheek, between murmured reassurances and left without another word to John. He teetered on the brink, somewhere between busting his knuckles against the cold glass of the impala’s window and losing his lunch on the frostbitten ground. Somehow, Dean made it into the solitude of the driver’s seat before he broke down and sobbed. The only saving grace he got was when his mother's voice roared from inside the house.

Dean dragged the salt and snot from his face with a heavy palm and started the engine. He couldn't stay there, but he didn't know where to go either. He just drove.

    Dean pulled into the parking lot at The Pearly Gates on autopilot. He’d spent the afternoon equally suppressing and dissecting his conversation with his parents as he kept it even between the lines of two lane country roads. Now, Dean was ready to be somebody else, to make drinks and flirt and just forget everything that had happened.

    The college football crowd was winding down, which allowed Dean some time to catch up with the day shift bartenders Garth and Jody. Back before Cas got blindsided with the responsibility of business ownership, Cas, Dean, Ash and Artie would claim a booth near the pool tables and blow their grocery money every weekend. When Sam moved back after law school he and Mick joined the crowd that were regularly praised for paying for Jody’s son’s braces.

    Garth had been the first dragged from the friend pool to fill the schedule when Cas’s brother dropped off the face of the earth. Though Garth volunteered, Dean knew it was just out of the goodness of his heart, not a need for extra cash. 

    “Here he is!” Garth announced Dean’s arrival. Luckily for Dean, Garth was pouring a beer otherwise he would have been wrapped in one of Garth’s spider monkey-like hugs. A few regulars in the corner raised their glasses to Dean in greeting as he passed by with his company smile. Jody whipped by him, fresh out of the stock room with her arms full of their dollar bags of chips they sold to keep from having to run a full kitchen.

    “Look who’s early,” Jody exclaimed before dropping the load onto the back counter. “You trying to cut into my time there, Winchester?”

    “You know if you ever want more hours, you just gotta ask,” Dean offered suggestively, strolling behind the bar.

    Jody sputtered dramatically, “And work nights? No, thank you.”

    “It was worth a shot,” Dean replied, shrugging at Garth who knew better.

    Jody sighed and cocked her head. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

    Dean ducked his head against the compliment as she patted his arm apologetically. 

    “Want me to split your tips before you go?” Dean asked, bending out of his jacket.

    “That’d be lovely,” Jody answered, sorting the chips by kind. “Garth get’s an extra twenty because Bess and Donna were ‘round.”

    “Look at you, Mr. Slick,” Dean teased as he grabbed the old milk bottle filled with mostly singles. Garth blushed.

    “You know what they say Dean-o, flattery is everything,” Garth explained. Dean, who routinely had the most tips out of any of the staff, including Bela, just nodded at the quirky dude. Dean doled out their shares and washed up before officially punching in. 

    Jody was gone as soon as Anna arrived, but Garth waited for Jack to show before leaving her and Dean on their own. It was seven o’clock before Cas arrived instead of his unreliable nephew.

    “Everything alright?” Dean asked knowingly as Cas hung his trench coat on a broken notch on the rail beside the server’s station.

    “Jack is under the weather,” Cas explained blandly. Dean eyed the windows, taking in the light flurries that danced in the streetlight. “I guess I’ll have to do tonight.”

    It was a surprisingly unremarkable shift, the weather kept traffic bearable even after Anna’s shift ended at midnight. Dean walked her out the back to her car, like he always did as the plow eased out of the parking lot. 

    “You gonna be alright with him for the rest of the night?” Anna whispered before they breached the cold. Her big brown eyes held more mischief than worry. 

    “Goodnight, Anna,” Dean drew out as he held the door sternly. 

    “Night, Dean,” Anna chuckled. Dean watched her tiptoe around the icy patches and make it to her old Tahoe. He made sure it started before heading back behind the bar, and three more hours with Castiel. 

    The speakers were set lower than usual to balance their minimal customers. On his shifts, Dean had always insisted on having control over the musical selection. So when he walked into a pop singer’s version of mopey folk he did a double take before bee lining for the stereo. 

    “Please, don’t,” Cas’s simply requested from somewhere to Dean’s right. “I kind of like this song, but more importantly one of the customer’s requested a change of station.”

    Dean eyed the patrons like suspects in a line up, uncertain who would blaspheme in such a way. No one seemed particularly guilty and he had to let it go. Between drinks, Dean washed glasses in the small sink behind the bar until Cas was finally able to start his nightly paperwork. The last couple paid their tab just after 1:30, leaving them holding their breaths in hope as they started to put up the chairs. 

    “Is it often this quiet?” Cas wondered aloud, “I don’t recall Saturday’s business to dwindle so.”

    Dean smiled to himself; leave it to Cas to look a gift horse of a slow night in the mouth. “No, man, this is not the usual. But, it worked out. And thanks for filling in for the kid, I know you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

    Cas quietly beamed at Dean’s gratitude before pausing at the not so subtle jab at the end. They went through the remaining end of day routine in silence. Dean turned off the faux neon signs in the windows to signal the early close as Cas handled the money. Dean would usually even out the till and split tips with Jack, leaving the deposit for Cas to handle the next day. Instead he was left with cleaning detail as the boss man did the accounting.

    Before long Dean was rolling the dirty mop bucket back to the office/store room/ kitchen/ employee area. Exhaustion had eaten at Dean’s internal walls, leaving him on the slippery edge between slap-happy and zombie. He hummed to keep his eyes open, waiting on Cas to finally call it a night and let Dean clock out.

    “We don’t talk anymore,” Cas said abruptly, without looking up from the cash machine. Dean’s head shot up, concern furrowing his features. “In fact, I’m prone to think you don’t like me at all, Dean.”

    “What do you mean, we’re talking right now,” Dean downplayed defensively. Cas glanced up over his desk, mild surprise evident. Cas always seemed such a mystery to Dean, from his social awkwardness to his blunt observations. Dean had come to envy Cas��s almost innocent lack of need to perform for others, to be anyone but himself. He had forgotten that Cas would read into his demeanor in the uncanniest of ways.

    “True, we are. But are we?” Cas typed the code into the safe and waited for the time delayed entry. “We used to hang out, watch football, play pool, or cards even.”

    “We’ve got bowling every week, man,” Dean wrung out the mophead and latched it onto the rack on the wall. He was trying to remember the last time he and Cas had fun, just the two of them and couldn’t recall a single occurrence over the past year.

    “I miss you. I miss my friend,” Cas replied sadly. “And I don’t know what I did to ruin it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

    Dean closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean started. He walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, assertive reassurance written all over his face. “Look, I’m tired. Working all week and then coming here is kicking my ass. So I don’t have a lot of free time or brain capacity to hang out like we used to. But I’m doing my best, man.”

    Cas looked like a confused puppy, eyes drooping and head tilted. “That isn’t it. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me?”

    Dean huffed and shook his head, hands raised in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I like you, okay? We’re still--- you know--- buddies.”

    “Buddies,” Cas said it like it was a war crime.

    “Yeah, man, friends. Do you need me to pull up a dictionary on my phone?!” Dean was getting anxious. He didn’t know what exactly had set Cas down this path of questioning, but he was certain he needed it to end. So much for a quiet night.

    After a few weighted stares, Cas squinted and turned them down a different path. “Did me employing you negatively affect our relationship? Should I not have asked that of you?” 

    “Wait, that would have stopped you?” Dean asked, surprised by Cas’s sudden, if extremely late, realization.

    “I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt our friendship, Dean. Has working here hindered you?” Cas asked apologetically.

    Dean’s mouth dropped open and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. Working here--- everyone is great, don’t get me wrong--- but man I need a break. I wanted to help out here or there, but I’ve got no time for a life if I stay on.”

    “I see,” Cas sat back, poorly masking his own discomfort with Dean’s confession. “Look, I know I’m not the best at what I do. But I find it very hard to trust new people. Employees, especially, tend to let me down. I guess--- I guess I’ve relied on you for too long, Dean. I’m sorry if I’ve taken advantage.”

    Dean chuckled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

    Missing the joke, Cas continued, “I am taking this conversation as your verbal resignation. I hope you will stay on for the customary two weeks time?”

    “You’re serious?” Dean asked, stunned.

    “You’re unhappy. I don’t want to cause you anymore grief,” Cas replied simply.

    “It wasn’t that bad, Cas.--- But, you gotta do something about Jack. Man up and light a fire under his ass, or just kick him to the curb until he’s ready to live up to the family business. You need to hire people who want to be here,” Dean offered. 

    Cas nodded dejectedly. “I know, I just have an awful gauge for people’s reliability from a simple interview. And past employers rarely ‘spill the tea’ as Bela would say.”

    Dean giggled, but stopped himself once he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes. “Hey, what if somebody does the interviews for you? I bet Jody would weed out the bad seeds before their asses ever hit the bar stool.”

    Cas was surprised by that option. “That could work. She is very intimidating.”

    “Right?!” Dean exclaimed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So, we’re really doing this? Two weeks and I’m out?”

    “Yes, Dean. You’ve done more than I should have asked of you.” Cas stood and extended his hand.

    Dean grabbed it and pulled Cas in for a hug, their bound hands stuck between them. “Thanks, man. But, I’m glad it worked out. It will work out. This is gonna be good.”

    “And we’ll---,” Cas asked as they broke apart.

    “We’ll still be friends. Hell, if I’m free maybe we can reclaim our old table every once in a while,” Dean offered, patting Cas’s shoulder. A genuine smile crept across Dean’s face for the first time all day.

    “I’d like that,” Cas admitted as the safe alerted his time was up.

    The next morning, Sam held the door for Dean who was smirking as they walked in. Exhausted and needing the comfort of his favorite diner to fill his empty stomach, Dean agreed to Sunday breakfast with a seemingly none-the-wiser Sam, certain he'd be missing their weekly dinner with his parents for possibly the first time.

"Not that one. Let's see if there's a spot in the back," Sam muttered as Dean tried sitting in the first open booth he saw. 

"What? Why?" Dean groaned, but straightened up and followed Sam passed the bustling counter.

Sam lifted his chin and motioned Dean to the second to last spot. Slightly annoyed, Dean threw himself onto the bench seat, only to have Sam slide beside him, caging him in. 

"Glad you boys could make it," the all too familiar drawl of their father's voice greeted them from across the table.

Dean looked at Sam and cursed beneath his breath. Sam had the nerve to look guilty, but his puppy dog eyes didn't hold an ounce of potency now.

"Wow, Dad, I had no idea you'd be here. Funny coincidence, hey, Sammy?" Dean snarked.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled.

"I made him drag you here, Dean. So if you wanna be pissed, be pissed at me," John began. "I ordered your usuals, to give us some privacy. It seems we need to talk."

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