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daechwitatamic · 2 years

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Chapter 5: Childish || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: What Was Hidden (Masterpost)

Rating: explicit, minors DNI pls

Genre: college!au, angst, eventual smut, strangers -> friends -> lovers -> idiots -> lovers

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader, MYG x OC

Summary: This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You’re assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg’s The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there’s a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one’s “true self” versus one’s “shown self”, darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

In which you and Taehyung address what happened at movie night.

Chapter Warnings: language, kissing, bad rap lyrics… listen i tried my best ok

Word Count: 3.8k

Note: This is a duplicate of Chapter 5. Apologies if you already interacted with the first version - it wasn't showing up in searched tags. The Ghost Post for Chapter 5 is here.

I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden The Ghost Sonata | Scene III August Strindberg

Chapter 5: Childish

Sunday, November 18th

In the morning, Kiko’s bed is empty, so you text her, “Good morning???”

Instead of answering you with words, she sends you a Soundcloud link titled, Sirens [DEMO] - MYG ft K!k0.

[9:02 AM] Kiko✌️: sry for bailing on the movie but we finished this

You scramble for your earpods, eagerly starting the track. The beat starts, fast and angry, and then Yoongi’s rapping starts.

All these months at sea have got me seeing shit I close my eyes and take an even bigger hit Your siren call has got my fucking guard up These last six months I’ve been so fucking hard up Snared by your beauty as you pass by Your siren song is just another goddamn lie I have heard you singing, each to each You’ve always been just outside my reach Part of me wants to let you drag me down Til human voices wake us and we fucking drown I’m powerless to fight it, I refuse to try Your siren song is just another goddamn lie

The chorus starts, and you hear Kiko for the first time. Her voice comes in sweet and steady, definitely her, haunting as it traverses the minor key.

“Holy shit,” you say out loud, pulling out your earpods and scrambling up the ladder to Bridget’s top bunk. She whines in complaint as you scoot in next to her, poking her arm.

“Wake up, you have to hear this,” you tell her. “Look at our baby go!”

[9:10 AM] You: omg omg omg that’s so good i literally woke b up to listen to it too

[9:11 AM] You: she hates me but she loves the track

[9:12 AM] You: your VOICE iasnfoiajefjef

[9:14 AM] Kiko✌️: thaaaanks 🥺🥺🥺

[9:16 AM] You: if he gets famous w that hes gonna get a cease and desist letter from Eliot’s people lmaooo

[9:19 AM] Kiko✌️: ????

[9:20 AM] You: ts eliot? the poem?

[9:22 AM] You: ‘i have heard them singing, each to each’

[9:23 AM] You: ‘til human voices wake us and we drown’

[9:24 AM] You: they’re from that longass ts eliot poem idr the name of it

[9:25 AM] You: hold on im looking it up

You send her the link to The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and click your screen off.

“You think he wrote that about her?” Bridget muses, eyes still closed.

“No way,” you say. “You’d have to have some serious audacity to ask a girl to feature vocals on a track you wrote about trying to resist her charms…”

“Maybe he has a lot of audacity,” she murmurs.

You kick your way under her blankets - your feet are freezing - and put your earpods back in, turning your screen back on to listen to it again.

Monday, November 19th

Monday brings sunshine, even if it is freezing cold. You’re leaving your final class, your laptop bag heavy on your shoulder, when a phone call comes in from Bianca.

“Hey, Y/N,” she says when you pick up. “I figured this would be easier than emailing back and forth five times. I’m trying to reschedule your session with Taehyung. Are you feeling better?”

“Oh,” you say, stomach dropping. Good, now that you and Taehyung aren’t speaking you can spend an extra hour alone with him! “Yeah, I’m all better. Thanks.”

“Great,” she says. “Can you do tomorrow morning? I know it’s kind of late notice,” she says apologetically.

“I’d have to be done by ten for class,” you tell her.

Bianca schedules you for nine the next morning, and tells you she’ll email you both to confirm.

You’re at dinner with Bridget that night when Taehyung texts you about it.

[7:55 PM] Taehyung: hi. Would you be okay with doing tutoring at the coffee shop tmrw instead of the library

[7:56 PM] Taehyung: i have class at 10 and its closer to the academic buildings

You wave your foot around in discomfort. You hate knowing you hurt his feelings. He’s obviously upset, or this would’ve been a facetime call.

[7:59 PM] You: yep. See you at 9.

He doesn’t answer.

Tuesday, November 20th

When you reach the cafe in the morning, Taehyung’s already in a booth, books open on the table. You pause at the edge of the table, and he looks up at you, but doesn’t say anything.

“Morning,” you said uneasily. “I’m gonna get in line and order my coffee, and then we can start?”

“Sure,” he says, and goes right back to highlighting the Strindberg text.

You frown, crossing your arms. “Is this how it’s going to be for the whole hour? Are you even going to speak to me?”

“If I need help with the work,” he allows, eyes still on the text.

“Taehyung,” you say, frustrated, “don’t be childish -.”

“I’m being childish?” he echoes, eyebrows raising indignantly. “You started the cold shoulder shit just because I dared hang out with a friend when we -.”

When we… aren’t anything in the first place. You know that’s the end of the sentence. You know that’s the truth. There was nothing between you two but potential, but that had spoiled now. You don’t wait for the end of the sentence. You turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait,” he says quickly, and reaches for your hand, holding your fingers tightly. “I’m sorry. Don’t leave.”

You stand there, his fingers still clutching yours, frozen. His hand is warm on yours, his eyes intense, and you feel like he could just tug you right down there next to him with very little effort.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “Let’s just… I’ll work on the paper. Let’s just… work.”

You don’t really have a choice. You’re contracted for an hour. Pursing your lips, you set your bag on the empty bench.

“I’m going to order my coffee,” you tell him quietly, and he nods, finally dropping your hand. When you return, you settle in and get your laptop running.

“Okay,” you say, eager to put the arguing behind you and get to work. “What step of the paper are you on? Isn’t it due this week?”

“Yeah, by Friday at midnight,” he tells you. “I’m just done taking my notes for the disillusionment theme and then I can start typing it up.”

“How can I help today?” you ask.

He frowns, sliding the Strindberg text between you. “I was looking at his last little bit here,” he says, pointing with his capped highlighter. “I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden - I was going to write about the word thought - like, he thought he knew what was there, he thought he was seeing something hidden that was beautiful and good. Like, he saw the darkness behind the facade, but then the sun shone on this spot and he thought that behind the darkness there was still something good… but he was wrong.”

“Tae,” you say, quietly.

He gives you a warning look. “Don’t,” he says. “Focus on the paper. Am I onto something worth putting in the paper?”

“Yeah,” you say, begrudgingly. “It’s good.”

He nods and writes something down in the notebook he has open next to the text. When he’s done, he opens his laptop and gets typing away. You drop your eyes, focus on your coffee.

He types for about fifteen minutes and you don’t talk as he works. When you hear the sound of clicking keys stop, you glance up to see if he needs to be reminded to focus, as he asked.

But instead of looking distracted - out the window, or at his phone - he’s looking at you. He’s pouting, lips protruding, and it’s so fucking cute that it makes you feel angry.

“What?” you snap, but you’re fighting a smile.

“I can’t stand that you’re mad at me,” he admits. “I should have told you I had a girl at the house, that it was a friend. I’m sorry. I know that we aren’t… y’know… but if I’d run into you with a guy like that I think I’d…” He trails off, half-formed thoughts tripping him up. “It would have felt bad. And I did not mean to make you feel bad.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “You can do whatever you want. You owe me nothing. I shouldn’t have gotten upset. I was trying to be chill about it and just… failing miserably.”

“You don’t send someone homemade soup and then show up with another girl,” he says, shaking his head. “I screwed up.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him gently. “It’s fine. I’d like it if we just… moved on.”

–

By the time your hour is up, Taehyung has finished typing most of the paper. You make him promise to finish it and send it to you to look over before your normal Wednesday morning session tomorrow.

You gather up your things and wait as Taehyung does the same. Once you’re both ready, you turn and walk towards the door; you both have class right after, and you’re in a bit of a hurry to make it on time.

The line of students trying to grab a coffee before the ten o’clock classes start is quite long, reaching almost to the door. And at the end of it stands Davis.

You drop your eyes quickly, as if seeing him would make him more likely to see you. You scrunch down into your sweater, hiking your bag higher on your shoulder, and pick up your pace.

Taehyung is suddenly beside you instead of behind you, his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly up against him as you walk side by side. He’s warm and solid against you, and you feel the tight fist that had been wrapping itself around your lungs release a little bit. It just feels instantly… safer. You keep your eyes down, but you feel Taehyung turn to look at Davis as you pass by. He reaches forward to open the door, and you step through together.

“Thanks,” you mutter, still watching the very fascinating pavement.

“You have to stop running from him,” he tells you seriously. “He’s garbage, and you’re…”

You’re what?

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t let him get to you like that,” he amends.

You scuff your sneaker along the path. “Which way are you going?” you ask him.

“Pastorino Building,” he tells you, pointing.

“Me too.”

When he holds out his hand for you, you take it.

[11:44 AM] Taehyung: you finally took me off of read, huh?

[11:52 AM] You: ???

[11:54 AM] Taehyung: insta

[11:56 AM] You: lol oh

[11:57 AM] You: yeah u earned it i guess

[12:00 PM] Taehyung: “i guess” o ok then 🙄

[12:11 PM] Nina💕: y is ur new man messing with Davis????

[12:14 PM] You: 100% honesty, i have nooooo idea what ur talking abt

[12:16 PM] Nina💕: walking around campus giving him dirty looks nd shit, real mature

[12:19 PM] You: omfg. i need everyone to grow the fuck up pls.

[12:20 PM] You: knowing davis and knowing taehyung, i’d guess they saw each other ONCE and if tae didn’t smile then davis went and cried like a fucking baby

It’s almost twelve hours later, after you’re in bed working on getting sleepy, that you realize that Nina had said “your new man” and you’d done nothing to refute this.

Fuck.

Wednesday, November 21st

You’re - stupidly - excited for your tutoring hour on Wednesday morning. You don’t know what is starting with you and Taehyung, but something is. But when you arrive at eleven on the dot, he’s not there. He’s still not there five minutes later, and you shoot him a quick text - “we on for tutoring?”

Two minutes later, he comes up behind you, practically panting, a paper travel mug in each hand.

“Sorry,” he says, “I was already running a minute or two late because the line was so long, and then I got here and I couldn’t open the door -.”

You crack up, reaching to take the cups from his hands and place them on the table.

“Did you bring me coffee?” you ask accusingly, a smile creeping across your face.

“I’m still trying to make up for Saturday,” he says with a laugh, pulling out a chair on the other side of the table.

“You have already, and then some,” you tell him seriously.

“I hope I ordered it how you like it,” he says sheepishly.

“I’m not picky,” you assure him. “So, what are we working on today?”

“All business, huh? Even when I bring you coffee?” he teases, eyes crinkling.

“I’m all business when I’m on the clock,” you agree. “Talk to me in fifty-three minutes and I can be more fun.”

“You’re fun anyway,” he says, eyeing you sideways as he takes out his laptop. “Anyway, I finished the paper last night. Can I send it to you now? Then I can start my Chekhov reading while you look it over?”

“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. “Chekhov, huh? Three Sisters?”

"Cherry Orchard," he corrects you.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” you tell him. “I’m excited to see what you think. I do like Three Sisters better, though, if I had to choose.”

“I don’t get to choose,” he says lightly. “I just sent you the paper, did you get it?”

“I’m surprised you even know how to use the school email,” you murmur without thinking, eyes on your screen, and you’re surprised when he laughs, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if you think it?” he challenges, raising one eyebrow. Something stirs in your stomach.

“Shut up and do your reading,” you say, laughing, doing your best to ignore the flutter of attraction.

When your hour is up, you walk together towards the cafeteria as you have on other Wednesday mornings. But instead of splitting up, Taehyung raises that eyebrow at you again, as if issuing a dare.

“Want to sit together?” he asks.

You grin. “Yeah,” you say. “But you might have to deal with my roommates when they figure out I ditched them.”

Thursday, November 22nd

Thursday is cold, but the sun shines brightly, so you decide to walk at your trail between your morning class and your afternoon class. It’s too cold to sit on your bench for long, but at least the walk will give you some exercise, and some good thinking time. Your mind is disgustingly full of Taehyung - the easy back and forth you have, how shockingly different he is from your expectations, the fucking cute way he pouts as he eats, the sexy way he rolls his tshirt sleeves, the way his smile will start so tentatively and then blast full-wattage out of nowhere. You walk quickly, the cold hitting you sharply, like a slap in the face, and you need it. It knocks some sense into you. You’re a fucking mess, and you feel a little out of control with it.

You head back to your room to take a quick shower before your 2:30 class, opting to skip lunch. You haven’t eaten since breakfast, and you know you won’t be able to eat until tutoring ends at 7. You wonder if you’d be able to talk Taehyung into doing tutoring from the cafeteria.

You somehow manage to make it on time for Becky at 5:00, barely, but you’re starving by the time Taehyung plops down in the seat across from you.

You tell him hello absently, already digging in your bag for your wallet, ready to ask him if he’d mind doing tutoring somewhere with food.

“Oh, goddamn,” you murmur, shifting your laptop out of the way and scraping around the bottom of your bag.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, peering at you.

“I can’t find my wallet,” you tell him, starting to take things out of the bag one by one. Then suddenly you freeze, your wide eyes meeting his across the table. “Oh shit,” you utter. “I think I dropped it at the trail.”

“The trail?” he echoes.

“The walking trails over at the nature preserve,” you clarify, still horrified. “I went walking there before class and I had my wallet with me then, and now that I’m thinking about it, I didn’t have it when I packed my bag for class.”

Taehyung looks at you, calculating. Then he nods and says, “Okay, so let’s go get it.”

“What?” you say, sure you misheard him. “Now? It’s dark. And freezing.”

He shrugs. “We’ll bundle up. It’ll be fun, like a little adventure.”

“Trespassing on closed trails in the dark - in snow temperatures - does not sound like an adventure,” you tell him.

“Come on,” he goads. “What else are you going to do? You’re in classes until it’s dark tomorrow, you won’t be able to go look.”

You frown at him. “How do you know my class schedule?”

“I pay attention,” he says, waving a hand at you, like this is insignificant. “So? We’ll use our phones and follow where you walked. It could still be there.”

You stop to consider it. You could just consider it a loss - freeze your credit card, replace your drivers license. Or you could wait and see if anyone turned it into the police or campus security. Surely, this isn’t so pressing that you need to go now.

But.

But, going for a nighttime walk with Taehyung - even if it is fucking cold out - does sound kind of exciting.

“What about tutoring?” you ask, resolve crumbling.

“We’ll talk about Ibsen the whole time,” he says, already starting to pack up his bag. “Come on, there’s a parking lot at the trailhead, I’ll drive us over.”

There are no other cars in the lot when you park - probably because the whole nature preserve closes at sundown, which was about three hours ago. Taehyung turns off the car and you both get out, turning the flashlights on your phones on. You guide him to the trail you took, and walk in silence for a few minutes, beams crisscrossing the trail as you go.

“I turned my paper in yesterday,” he tells you. You’re shivering a little, searching the edge of the path. “Two days early. Do I get extra points for being early?”

“No,” you tell him flatly. “But yours will be one of the first she grades. I’m excited to see her feedback.”

“She’ll probably think I cheated,” Taehyung laughs.

“No,” you disagree. “It definitely still sounded like you wrote it. Your voice came through.”

He looks at you across the path, only a silhouette from your phones illuminating patches on the ground. In the dark, you can’t make out his face at all, can’t read his eyes or his expression.

“You did a good job,” you reassure him again. “It was well written.”

“Thanks,” he says finally.

You walk in silence a little longer. You can’t see anything except the small circle on the ground from your phone, and it’s eerie. You’re glad Taehyung is with you, but you’re half tempted to step closer to him, to walk in his wake instead of on your own. You shiver again, your face aching from the cold, your fingers going numb.

This was probably a dumb idea.

You reach your bench and you hurry over, sure that if your wallet fell out of your pocket it would have been while you were seated. Sure enough, you find it under the bench, in a small tuft of dead grass. It occurs to you that Taehyung is here in your most sacred thinking spot, but you’d never brought Davis here even though you’d been dating for almost two whole school years as students here.

“Got it!” you cheer, turning to find Taehyung by the location of his phone’s light.

He comes up next to you, putting his hands on your upper arms. You’re still shivering slightly.

“You cold?” he murmurs, and you’ve never heard that tone of voice on him before. It’s low, almost guttural, and your body responds to it immediately, the blood rushing away from your head.

“Mhm,” you say, not trusting yourself to try and form words.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in, and you lean in, soaking in his warmth. This is fine - this is nice - but then he moves a hand to gently tip your chin up and leans in to kiss you. His lips are soft against yours, but his kiss isn’t. As soon as he can feel you kissing him back, he reaches both arms around you again, tugging you tight against him as your lips crash together.

You manage to sneak a hand out of his tight embrace and curl your fingers through the wavy hair at the nape of his neck; you tug just a little and his mouth opens for yours, a tiny groan escaping him as if against his will as his tongue touches yours for the first time.

Everything about the kiss is slow but purposeful, intense in its lack of frantic energy. He kisses you like he’s got his whole life to keep it up, like there’s no reason to rush when he can take it this slow and feel everything, notice everything, love everything that you do.

You bring one freezing hand up to touch his jaw, your thumb rubbing a gentle line along the bone, and he shivers under your touch. He moves to tangle one hand in your hair, and suddenly it’s an entirely different kiss, all the energy and aggression that he seemed to be holding back earlier now bursting forth.

You appreciate the variety.

You release his hand and clutch the front of his zippered winter coat, pulling him closer, though it doesn’t seem possible. You want him closer. You want him to kiss you for a hundred more hours.

He nips your bottom lip and you whimper without meaning to; he groans again in response to this, moving to kiss a line down your jaw and down to your neck. The air is instantly freezing in the wake of his hot mouth, and you shudder in his hands.

When he finally pulls away, leaning back to look at your flushed face, he asks, “How about now?”

You laugh, once, and whack him in the chest. “A little better,” you admit.

He presses his forehead to yours and inhales deeply. “I would like to do that again without the puffy winter coats on,” he tells you.

You laugh again, stepping back a little bit. “Okay,” you tell him. “I think that can be arranged.”

Thank you so much for being here! I appreciate every single like, reblog, dm, ask, or reply!

As always, a million thanks to @kookstempo for being an expert turkey-wrangler and also for beta-ing!

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #dailydaegu #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #college au #s2l #f2l #bts x reader #taehyung smut #(but not in this chapter for full disclosure)#fic: what was hidden

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arzuera · 1 year

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I posted 358 times in 2022

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Happy DP x DC WEEK!

195 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

Reality hits Jason when he realized he’s gonna be a king (of the gz) because he’s with Danny who is laughing in a corner.

It had begun with small things.

With the newly made connection that Jason made with Danny, he was able to see ghosts that couldn’t be seen before. It wasn’t like when Danny went invisible, these ghosts just didn’t have enough power to be seen by the mortal eye. The halfa had warned that there may be some changes with his liminality when they decided to take their relationship to the next stage. This new ability was unnerving but it wasn’t too bad.

Patrols would get easier because of random ghosts coming up to him and giving him hints about the rats scurrying around in Gotham’s underbelly. With that information, Red Hood had started making a name for himself, and crime in Crime alley was at an all-time low. They didn’t know how he found out about the many secretive things lurking in the dark but he had busted enough deals, drug rings, and prostitution rings that people were starting to rethink what they were doing with their lives. However, those instances didn’t just stay when Jason was in costume.

Ghosts began approaching him while he would walk about town or do mundane chores. Some ask for help, others stop by just to say hi. It didn’t happen too often at first but kept growing as time went on and the weirdest thing about it was… they all bowed to him.

Without fail.

During every ghostly interaction, Jason was either greeted with a curtsy or a bow before the conversation began. Older ghosts started referring to him as ‘my lord’ and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was used to Alfred calling him ‘master’ all of the time, Jason would have probably gone off on the undead people. He just didn’t understand where it was coming from. Jason wasn’t a lord. He wasn’t some sort of royalty. He was just an undead sap who was engaged to the Ghost King… wait.

No.

No way.

There was no way in hell (literally) that this was a thing.

“Hey, babe.”

Did that mean… did that mean he would become a royal? A king no less?!

“Baaaabe.”

The king title wasn’t a guarantee. Danny was the king. Can there be two kings? Does that make him a prince consort? What the fuck, was he a prince?

“You hunkalicious tank of a man, notice me.”

What did that mean for him? If he was a king of the Ghost Zone, did that mean he had to go to galas and such? It was bad enough when Bruce tried to rope him into those things but now he might be obligated too. There was no way that he would leave his fiancee hanging.

“Ancients, you are beautiful but why must you have such a thick skull? BAAABE!”

Wait, what responsibilities would he have? Jason didn’t know anything about politics in the Ghost Zone other than you can rule it by beating the previous king in trial by combat. What would he be in charge of? Sure, he helped ghosts when they asked but only when it was within his power. There was only so much that he could do.

“JASON SEXY ASS TODD! LOOK AT ME!”

Jason threw the person that had touched his shoulder across the room. A man with black hair and blue eyes sailed, a little too easily, over the kitchen counter and lightly smacked into the corner wall. The twenty-four-year-old man slid to the floor while looking at Jason with eyes full of surprise. There was a brief awkward pause before Danny smirked from his spot on the floor and said, “Does this count as spousal abus-”

“AM I A KING NOW?!” Jason blurted out before his fiancee could finish. He had to know or else the thoughts were going to plague his mind.

Danny blinked at him owlishly before a wicked grin made its home on his face. “Um… yes? Well, king is a part of the title. I’m the king but you’ll be my king consort or queen consort if you prefer. If you don’t want to use gender-specific terms we could go with royal consort. Why are you so surprised…” the halfa’s grin grew wolfish as Jason turned red from embarrassment. “Wait… are you just now realizing this?”

“YES!” Jason exclaimed as he threw his hands into the air. “It’s not like you told me?!” Danny absolutely loses it. The halfa clutches his sides from laughter as Jason’s expression just continues to become more flustered. “Stop it! This isn’t funny!”

“You’re right! It’s hilarious! You yeeted me into the kitchen wall!” Danny yelled right back, amusement dancing behind his icy blue eyes as his shoulders continued to shake from laughter. “Because that big brain of yours just NOW figured out that marrying a king makes you royalty! We’ve been together for three years!”

“I have read enough period novels to know how the right of succession and all of that works! I just didn’t expect to actually become one! I mean look at me!” Jason gestured to his entire body, black tank top, boxers, and all, to Danny. “Do I look like king material to you?!”

Danny gives his lover an appreciative once over and smirked. “You’re right, king’s consort probably won’t work. How about being the king’s treasure instead?”

The anti-hero’s mind stopped for a moment until his face was as bright as a tomato. “That’s it. We’re over. I’m not yours anymore, take the ring back.” Jason grumbled and made a show of taking the engagement ring off but not actually trying.

“But making you mine would be my second crowning achievement,” Danny whined, making his way over to Jason and draping himself across the strong man’s shoulders.

“Okay, we really are done now.”

The halfa chuckled and nuzzled into Jason’s neck, placing a kiss at the spot where the shoulder connected with a small hum. His hand moved to cover Jason’s ringed one. “I know you are a bit freaked out… and that it’s a lot. I won’t lie that it will probably be a bit overwhelming but… you don’t have to learn everything right away and you aren’t alone. You have me, Jazz, Sam, tucker, your siblings, Alfred, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, Bruce. All joking aside, I think you would make a wonderful king. You are just and fair and when someone goes too far, you aren’t afraid to put your foot down to protect those who need it. You won’t let someone use you or walk over you and I need someone by my side who will help rein me back in if I go too far. With all of those things considered… you are actually overqualified.”

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256 notes - Posted October 21, 2022

Hey i got the funniest, cutest mental image for Robin's Egg that I had to immediately share with you. Once Danny gets out of his core he is very, very protective of Damian for the first few days because Damian took such good care of him, he needs to return the favor. However when they are suddenly surrounded by people that Damian claims are friendly but Danny doesn't actually know, he turns his legs into a tail and basically coils himself around Damian. Danny is full on circling him and constantly looking between Bats and Birds to try to keep everyone in view so he's basically curled around Damian's neck and looped all over his body in a clearly Extremely Protective Way as Damian simply talks to his family like there is a stranger coiled around him and threatening to bite Dick when he got to close.

That is a hilarious image. I had to make this at work XD

306 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

Danny thought his most bizarre experience is being summoned by cultists as the Ghost King. Turns out his current predicament beats it by flying colors as he is currently bound as sacrifice for his own summoning circle.

He knew that his luck was bad but he didn’t think that it would be THIS bad. Dozens of cultists circled the raised ritual table and he was beginning to wonder if there would be an opportunity to free himself or not. Was it possible to die in his own summoning circle? Or would it just create some sort of endless paradox of life and death as he arose in his ghost form only to be sacrificed in his human one? This was something that had never been encountered before. There was no one to ask. Clockwork might know the outcome but unless it horrendously affected the time stream, odds are the ancient wasn’t going to interfere. So that left Danny with only one option. He had to get out of this himself.

But how was he going to do that without outing his alternate identity?

Just as he was pondering on using some of his ghostliness to freeze everyone in place, there was a loud explosion that shook the entire room. Several of the cultists scattered but the core ones remained in their spots so that the ritual wasn’t broken. The circle had begun to glow an ominous green as the ritual began to enter its beginning stages. Shouts and flashing lights followed as the newcomers stormed their way up the stairs toward the summoning. Danny sighed to himself in relief.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to do anything after all.

“Alright, you bloody show ponies. Step away from the circle and no one gets… Oh, bloody hell.” A familiar blonde man in a trench coat knocked anyone who tried to stop him out of his way. Only to stop when he saw the circle and the sacrifice who rested upon it. “Don’t you think this is a bit much? If you wanted to get my attention you have my fucking cellphone number for Christ's sake.”

Danny gave the man a wicked grin. His eyes lit up at the newest arrival. “But you know I have a flair for the dramatics, Constantine. Someone has to shake things up once in a while.” This was too good. The halfa flopped his head back against the table and wiggled in his restraints. “Please, save me! I am just a poor innocent young lad about to have his life cut short too soon to bring upon the end of the world.”

Constantine rolled his eyes at the theatrics. “Only one of those things is true and here I was calling these guys the show ponies. Hang on, your majesty. I’ll get you out in a minute.”

“Your majesty?” One of the cultists in the circle looked at the magician as he spoke. Only to be blasted off the circle by a fireball.

“Yep. I was told someone was trying to do something stupid and when I get here I find that they are trying to sacrifice someone stupid.” The magician sent several more of the cultists sprawling out of their positions with the lights of the summoning circle began to dim. “How did this even happen?!”

Danny hummed to himself as lights of magic flashed around him with the screams of cultists following soon after. “Well, it’s kind of a funny story actually. You see I was on a field trip to one of those ancient catacombs… you know… the ones where they have the bodies in the mass graves under the city?”

Another cultist was knocked out of place and the circle’s power diminished further. “Yeah, the Catacombs de Paris? Didn’t know that they did field trips to places like that.” Constantine walked up to Danny and waved his hand over the restraints. The ropes loosened and the teen sat up rubbing the spots where the skin was rubbed raw.

“Yeah, that place! And what did you expect from a school trip for Amity Park students? Our town is literally a portal to hell at this point. Why not see what other creepy places have to offer? We gotta broaden our horizons somehow.” Danny said and wiggled his toes. He ducked his head when a cultist went to grab him and Constantine sent another fireball sending them flying.

“Okay, and how does that lead you to become a sacrifice for your own circle?” Constantine asked once the last cultist was no longer within earshot. He grabbed the kid and started chanting a teleportation spell to get them to a nearby safe haven.

Danny allowed himself to rag doll in the adult's grip with a chuckle. “Oh! Well, apparently I give off a massive death aura when I come into contact with sites that contain a lot of death and tragedy. Some of the culty guys here were able to pick up on that and long story short… I’m posing pretty for you on a cool Gothic table.”

With a brilliant flash of light, the two were transported to the roof of a nearby hotel. Constantine released the boy, who fell to the ground with an ‘uff’, to pull out a cigarette and take a long drag from it. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if they had succeeded?”

“Honestly? No. In all of the Infinite Realm's history, there has never been a halfa as king. So there has never been an instance of mistaken identity like this before. However, thanks for the save. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of that without revealing who I was and it’s not like I could kill them.” Danny gave a small smile as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. That was a lie. He could kill them easily. But that was a line that he wouldn’t cross if he couldn’t help it.

Constantine remained quiet for a moment. Just allowing himself to finish his cigarette before speaking again. “So do you need me to bring you back to your class or…?”

“Oh no! No no! I don’t think the teachers even noticed I’m gone. So I’ll just pop back into my hotel room.” Twin rings of light washed over Danny as he spoke and he gave the magician a bright smile. “And don’t worry, now that I know this can happen, I’ll have a plan to escape for next time. C’ya later, Constantine!” Turning invisible, Phantom flew off using the GPS in his phone to take him back to his hotel.

Sam and Tuck were going to be so mad about this.

646 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Conner isn't a clone of Luther and Superman,but Danny phantom and Superman.

Phantom looked at the monitor in the med bay dumbstruck. Several other leaguers were in the same situation. How could this have happened? WHEN did it happen? Sure during the early years of crime fighting, Danny hadn’t been the best at keeping his blood in his body but he had grown by leaps and bounds since then. With GIW and his parents trying to figure out how to take him out, it had become instinctual to make sure that he didn’t leave much of a trace wherever he went. Yet, somehow it had been leaked.

And to Lex Luthor no less.

“I don’t understand. Phantom wasn’t even a part of the league when the Cadmus project was in operation. So how could this be?!” Flash stated as his eyes scanned the results over and over but they remained the same.

“I’m… I’m just as confused as you are.” Danny admitted still feeling overwhelmed by this new information. When Cadmus was in operation he had finally appointed as the King of the Infinite Realms at the age of 21. He didn’t join the Justice League until a little over a year later when some idiotic cultists had thought it was a good idea to try and merge the death realm with the living. Now, going into his second year with the League, Danny was finding out he had been cloned.

Again.

Batman grunted as he leaned back in his chair. “The results don’t lie. I’ve run them about ten times and it has all come up the same. The records on Cadmus had stated that Superman and Lex Luthor were the donors in creating Connor. However, Phantom’s DNA is a perfect match.”

The halfa looked to the teenager who was lying on a bed in the other room unconscious. While out on a mission, Superboy had taken several nasty hits and was severely injured. He had needed a blood transfusion and the poor kid had a horrible reaction when Manhunter tried to use an IV of Luthor’s blood which was supposed to have been a match. (Superman donated his blood as needed. It's not that he didn’t want to help but it was really hard for him to give blood with his body the way it was. Most needles just bent out of shape when they tried to pierce the skin.) It was touch and go but it appeared that Danny’s was a perfect match in more ways than one. Phantom pulled out his cell phone and started texting Jazz. She was not going to believe this.

“Phantom, what are you doing?” Batman asked when he saw him pull the device out.

“Texting my sister.”

Flash, finally, peeled his eyes away from the monitor. “Why?”

“Because, apparently, I have a long lost son who I didn’t even know about and she is going to flip that Superboy is her nephew,” Danny responded with a smirk. He wished he could have delivered the news in person. Oh! He also needed to get a hold of his other sister. Dani was going to be so excited to learn that she was no longer the only clone in the family.

Thoughts were swirling inside of his head. Conner currently lived at the base of the Young Justice team. Mainly because he didn’t have anywhere to go. Would the boy mind if he took him home with him? His castle in the Ghost Zone was massive and a lot of the rooms were unoccupied. Conner could pick as many of the rooms as he wanted for all he cared. So long as he was happy. Danny’s apartment was a lot smaller but he could probably upgrade so that Conner could have his own space. Money wasn’t really an issue anymore. It would probably do wonders for the teen’s mindset if he had a proper home to come back to instead of the reminder that the one person who was supposed to care about him didn’t.

“You are taking this awfully well,” Batman said as a statement but Danny could feel the questioning gaze of the bat when he put his phone away. “I would have thought you would be mad.”

“Oh, I’m livid all right.” Phantom replied and what he said was true. “I just found out today that I have a son because the boy was put into the hospital due to the severity of his injuries and he had existed for at least two years in this world without my knowledge. Two years that were filled with an unprecedented amount of physical, emotional, and mental trauma as he tries to figure himself out and separate his identity from the man who is supposed to be his other father and mentor. Only for that man to have treated him as an abomination for existing in the first place.” The room temperature dropped to the point that the breath of the other Leaguers showed. “To be honest, I had already low-key adopted him because of that fact but now that I know I’m related there are going to be some changes.”

Flash and Batman exchanged a look seeing the green eyes of the ghost king flare for a few moments before settling into a soft pulse. Both were thankful that Superman was off-world, at the moment. Clark would have probably said something that would have set the man off if he had been there for the startling revelation. Superman cared about Conner. He did but he was having a hard time overlooking the fact that he was cloned without his consent. So Conner’s life was basically denied by the one person he wanted to be acknowledged the most.

Superman would have to be told before he came back so that he would be prepared for when Phantom was going to come at him. Hopefully, enough time will have passed so that Phantom will have calmed down and had a chance to figure out what he wanted to say. Regardless, it wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. For now, Batman nodded to the halfa and turned back to the monitor. “Why don’t you go check on Conner? He should be waking up soon and this news might be what he needs to hear.”

“Maybe he won’t see himself as a villain anymore because he shared DNA with one.” Danny nodded and flew into the teen’s room trying to think of a good way to tell him. How was he going to react? What was he going to say? Would he accept Danny as a father? It didn’t have to be a father role right away, maybe even a cousin or brother. Whatever the boy felt most comfortable with. After all, it didn’t matter what Conner picked in the end because he was family.

And he would never be fighting through things alone again.

1,036 notes - Posted October 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

21 notes · View notes

4dtk · 3 years

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hello, i hope you’re doing well! can I request holding hands 13, hugs 34, kiss 7 & 31, and touching 38 with johnny? the plot could revolve them finally deciding that it’s time they’re ready to try for kids since they just moved into a new place! thank you <

got carried away. enjoy LMAO

hand-holding, 13: linking hands together during sex

hugs, 34: hugging while grabbing butt

kisses, 7 & 31: passionate kisses, gentle stroking of cheeks

touching, 38: stroking their leg

warnings/tags: dom!johnny, sub!reader, fem!reader, breeding/impregnation kink, daddy kink, brief cockwarming, cunnilingus/oral (f receiving), fingering, missionary, mating press, vaginal penetration

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI!!!

"how’d you like the place, mrs. suh?" you can’t help but let out a smile at the honorific, leaning into his side at the stunning place you’d manage to get. taking inspiration from pinterest, the array of options for you was blinding, but soon you settled on a style that you could both agree on along with the carefully crafted furnishings you’ve chosen.

"it’s so sexy," you whisper with a laugh, looking around at the pristine kitchen counters and overhead lighting. you’re saying it half as invitation, and you smile knowingly when johnny turns it around to compliment you.

"ya know what else is sexy?" rolling your eyes, you turn to face him to see a lazy smirk stretch across his face. johnny says nothing more and leans in gently, taking your lips with his in a sensual kiss that shows no matter how cheeky he is with you, the love that’s gotten him wrapped around your finger is undeniably unconditional. in a way, it was literal, too where the silver band wraps around your fourth finger as a reminder of your shared love.

your husband pulls away just for a second, "for how many times i’ve came in you, i was sure i would’ve knocked you up by now." johnny has the pleasure to witness the malfunction of your brain, unable to form any words at the casual sentence he drops about fucking impregnating you. he coos and lets out a giggle when you try to pull away from him in embarrassment.

"you-! you’re really not shy saying those kinds of things?!" playfully you push him away, ignoring the turn in your stomach when he had murmured with a low voice. his apology came in the form of kisses along your forehead right up to your lips where you melt once again into his chilling embrace, fingertips as cold as the arctic while his body emanated warmth. you never understood his body temperature, but you couldn’t care much when his touches leave traces of electricity along your skin.

johnny walks you back, feeling around for the kitchen counter that he accidentally bumps you against. with a muttered apology said in haste, your lover captures your lips with his even more hungrily, using the strength in him to prop you up onto the counter. reluctantly, he pulls away again.

"aren’t you an eager one?" his hand strokes the legs that accommodate him, spread to hold him as close to you while his forehead rests on yours.

"how can i not? you’re so tempting without even knowing it…"

you sigh affectionately, "is it also as tempting as kids running around in our new house?"

johnny jerks back in surprise. "you… you want to try, now?"

with a hesitant smile, you reply, "i mean, why not?" you’re afraid you’ve said the wrong thing when johnny’s surprised look doesn’t let up, but soon you’re met with his contagious laugh, looking at you like you were the only thing to exist in his world. his heart’s never felt so warm before looking at you as it does right now and he has to hold himself back from taking you then and there.

"now who’s the eager one?"

you fail to shove him away, a grin plastered on your face as your cheeks flare up completely now, "bitch, you were the one who made the lewd joke!"

"it was a fact," you roll your eyes for the second time that night, pulling him in anyway to smash your lips with his. you're needy, unable to keep your hands off of him even when your skin is stinging from the cold temperature of the marble counters. johnny groans softly into your mouth, pushing onto your hips more and more to feel any form of friction with you.

he picks you off the counters effortlessly with a tight arm wound around your middle and lazy pecks placed onto your neck.

"do you think we'll get a noise complaint tomorrow?"

pursing your lips and shrugging was your answer, impatient with the countless questions and quips johnny liked to do during your sessions. "okay, okay, i'll shut up." johnny knows you like the back of his hand. it's an obvious feat, certainly, since you decided to say yes to his private proposal on the top of an observatory. under the stars, where they had given their blessing.

johnny knows you like the back of his hand in that way, too. and you forgot how fucking skilful he could be when duty calls.

you find your brows furrowed and your hand clutching onto the sheets for dear life while johnny's tongue relentlessly flicks against your clit. he eats like it's his last meal, both hands holding your thighs open. the warmth of his tongue makes you shiver, already feeling your slick leaking in between your cheeks.

obscene noises bounce off the walls of the new place, sheets already messy from your constant thrashing although everything else — the cupboards, the bedside table, the vanity — looked untouched. at least now you know this innerspring mattress was a good choice.

"you- fuck, johnny!" your moans only fuel your lover more, who settles into a more comfortable position, suctioning your bud into his mouth. your body twitches so much that you can feel the tightening of his grasp on your thighs, stilling you into a thrilling sensation of oversensitivity even before he's got himself buried in you.

"argh- fuck, fuuuck, mhnh-!" johnny swears his eyes roll back at the way you groan out multiple please's, which merges with the whimpers for him to go faster and deeper just as he sticks a finger in. your cunt clasps around the digit easily, mouth now speechless from how deep he reaches into you. "oh my god, j-johnny!"

johnny slips in a second finger, and a second later, a third which you easily welcome with your sopping pussy. he pumps all three into you at an agonisingly slow pace, half focusing on the lewd noises coming from below him and half licking up the arousal that lingers around his lips.

the hooded lids of his eyes stare up at you like prey, lowering his tongue back onto your clit. the combination makes you unravel, little mewls escaping your lips that contribute to the heat of the room.

"johnny- please fuck- please- can you fuck me now? c-can't-"

he shuts you up by sucking harder, causing your thighs to close in around his head. your pleas is not lost to him, but you're more focused now on chasing your high selfishly with how fucking good he's working his tongue despite the slow speed of his fingers.

"impatient." lick. "little." lick. "bitch." lick. he's loving every second where he doesn't give into you. "plus, you're gonna have to do more than that, honey."

"i-i need your cock, please, johnny!"

tut tut. "wrong name, baby." you whimper when his fingers slowly slip out, teasing your gummy walls by rubbing at your hole. you hardly can form any words, but you try your best anyway.

"c-cock, daddy- want your cock so fucking bad-"

"again."

sinking further into the delirious feeling of pleasure, you're willing to let go of any dignity just to have him deep in you, shooting loads and loads of his seed where there's no room for you to not get pregnant. "ah- d-daddy, please- i need your cock to split me open!"

"n-need your cum." the fingers halt, johnny's eyes are filled with you splitting your legs wider and wider. your hole is begging for him, clenching around nothing as it leaks more and more.

he hardly can contain his excitement, pants shimmied down to reveal his tight boxers. it's straining against his already hardened length, and he sighs in relief when he finally pulls the last remaining fabric down showing his tip that's angrily red, aching to be in you just by a few pumps of his hand. "all for you, pretty girl."

the name elicits a bashful smile from you, "need a suck, daddy?"

johnny caresses your sensitive sex gently, "'s okay, just wanna be deep in you. ain't that right, babygirl?"

you can taste him on your lips as he kisses you softly, a hand reaching up to stroke your cheek with a ghost of a touch. his eyes soften just a little before he nudges it into you, playing with your cunt just a little that deliciously clasps around the intrusion. a long groan leaves his lips when he finally gets deep into you, bottoming out in no time. smoothly, he slips an arm around your waist, supporting your arching back that grinds to feel more of him.

"that's right, baby, just like that. moan for me." his thrusts start out slow and you want to cum just from those few movements, his shaft brushing up against your walls so obscenely. your moans are like music to him, lips occasionally lingering at his ears where your repeated calls of daddy, daddy makes his thighs shake and his hips stutter.

you're certain you're drooling by now, trapping the man with your legs. his hips move quicker now, muttering praises that has your pussy fluttering around him and arms curling more around his neck. the line blurs more and more and all that's residing in your head is how good he feels in you paired with the wet pap, pap, pap of his hips meeting your cunt. gradually, the knot deep in your tummy tights like a coil, aching for release.

"god! j-johnny... you're so fucking deeep... hah-" with a tongue lolled out, you can only mumble short sentences, sometimes choked out in a sad attempt to call out to your lover. "ah- i am, a-aren't i? can't wait to- fuck- pump you full of my cum. want you filled to the brim, you'd like that, yeah?"

like a broken record, there's a chorus of yes's that leave you, at the thought of seeing your pussy struggling to take the many loads of johnny's seed as you whine and thrash at the way he'd push it back into you. and that's exactly what he plans to do.

he grunts when you tighten around him, jerking and transitioning into shorter, quicker strokes, desperate for release until he finally bursts. head buried in your neck, hot breaths littering your skin. you're not far behind, toes curling at the immense pleasure you're experiencing that when it comes, you shiver at the way you come undone, relishing in the way johnny spurts the warm liquid into you.

you're left to rest for a minute, his cock still buried in you. he can't get enough of you, he can never get enough of you. that's why he finds himself fucking into you again, the amount of rest not doing much for your sensitive body. it overwhelms you so much that you can't help but let your wanton moans fill the room, riddled with not a single thought.

"you feel so good around me, baby." johnny takes your legs, lifting them up from the previous missionary position. his cock delves deeper the same time he presses them into your chest, eliciting a shameless cry from you, begging him to move. "just to be certain, hm? gotta be sure that you're full of my cum — so i'd have the pleasure of seeing your belly swell up with my baby, your boobs full with milk."

"plus, i'm gonna need to be sure that i'm gonna become a daddy." using an arm to hold your legs down, the free hand grasps onto yours that's holding onto the headboard. he misses the first time, but catches your fingers in time with his thrusts.

"daddy... hah- please, you're filling me up so g-- so good!"

johnny groans, impaling you with his dick with a speed faster by the thousands compared to the previous round. with your legs tucked snugly to your chest, you can do nothing but plead with your eyes for any sort of relief.

"cum- cumming! cumming! jo- johnnyyy..." with a scream of his name, you're gushing around his length, head making a terrible indent into the softness of your pillows. your mouth grows lax, drool leaking from all sides of your mouth before the other's thrusts falter bit by bit. you take his cock to the hilt, balls twitching from releasing into you.

"fuck, baby, take it- take all of it in your pussy." he shoots another load deep into your cunt and you feel sticky all of a sudden, coming down from the intense high of the dizzying state you were always put in whenever johnny was in you. with a kiss to your twined hands, johnny murmurs out i love you to your fingers, planting another kiss on the silver ring that you donned.

weakly, you reply. "love you too, so much." although, you're confused when the other doesn't pull out.

"it's a plug. so i don't have to worry about you not getting a positive on that pregnancy test." you giggle at that. giving into him even when your legs return to their natural state. tenderly, johnny manoeuvres you onto your side, his still hard length resting in you and his hands move to your ass, squeezing it that makes you squeal softly. "it's a win-win. i get a baby, and you won't have to clean the sheets."

"oh my god," your words are littered with laughter, exchanging small talk with the slowly darkening sky with the promise of a little one and a lifetime with johnny suh, the man who'd given you the stars and the moon if you'd asked.

640 notes · View notes

cellydawn · 3 years

Text

sans IS gaster (OR the sans theory masterpost pt. 2)

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

(drawn by me, color by @magenteel)

Previously, we discussed: Sans and his hand in the destruction of a world, his connection to Ice-E and Deltarune, and how he relates to Gaster. We’re going to continue the thread we left off on.

Section III - Gaster (Cont.)

Snails are mentioned too many times throughout Undertale for them to not be of any significance. As it turns out, they are pretty important in unraveling the mystery behind Gaster and Sans.

When you enter the area with Napstablook’s snail farm, you’ll notice that Sans’s theme is playing despite him not making an appearance.

In one of Papyrus’s phone calls, he mentions that Sans recently bought snail-shaped pasta and says “He’ll probably fill them with hotdogs and slime.” Toriel also owns a book called “72 User for Snails”. Track 72 in the Undertale OST is “Song That Might Play When You Fight Sans”. That’s multiple times that Sans is likened to snails.

Snails belong under the taxonomic class Gastropoda. Gasterpods.

These long pauses between words and phrases are not unlike how Gaster speaks.

Here is Gaster speaking with us in the opening sequence of Deltarune. And...

Now. Let’s move on.

(More under the cut.)

Mus_smile is the track that plays in room_gaster. This is my personal opinion, but the character that is the most strongly associated with smiles is Sans.

And Sans is certainly intelligent enough to be the prime suspect for being Gaster. The proper name for his namesake is Comic Sans Microsoft, or Comic Sans MS. MS can also be used as a suffix for the name of a person who has a degree in a Master of Science.

Sans also owns quantum physics books. The subject of Gaster’s scientific research is revealed in Entry #17: “photon readings negative”. Photons are described as a "quantum" of electromagnetic energy, and are of course within the realm of study under quantum physics.

Gaster, like Sans, is brilliant yet slow-working. Slower than Alphys, who is repeatedly noted to have nothing to show yet as the royal scientist in the eyes of the people and is shown to slack off constantly.

Gaster is implied to have perished, and I suppose he did, in a way, if these speculations do end up being correct. However, there’s something more to this statement. Ghosts are sort of in the realm of being not-alive, and Sans and Napstablook have a surprising level of comparability.

They both:

Get likened to “garbage”

Have connections to snails (Napstablook runs the snail farm)

Speak completely in lower case

Pretend to sleep and say “Z’s” out loud

Have black “sclera”

And the black sclera is also a topic of its own; it’s equated with the status of being brought back to life. Being “determined”. (See: Asriel and Undyne)

Undyne is especially suspect due to the strange right-eye-phenomenon she has in common with Sans, with spears shooting out of hers. Spears that are actually colored light blue, not unlike Sans’s eye.

To recap:

Sans and Gaster are heavily involved in Deltarune

They have been displaced from time and space

They have connections to snails

They are both doctors with knowledge in quantum physics

They both “fell” into the abyss

They both talk similarly

They are both slow

They are both characterized by their smile

They are both some degree of dead

Sans is Gaster or a significant piece of him. Sans has Gaster Blasters because they belong to him. If all prior conjecture proves true, he is and will be responsible for the destruction of a world or THE world within Deltarune. After all, the Latin definitions of “gaster” and “sans” are to destroy and to be without, respectively.

That brings us to the next subject: why is Sans Sans? More specifically, why is that his name? Why even change his name?

Below is the Japanese version of the fun event with Sans’s phone call. It features completely different dialogue from its English counterpart.

Am I Licca-chan? (Select No) Then from now on call me Sans. I need to check every once in a while. I won’t know when my name has changed.

“Licca-chan” is a well-known Barbie-esque dress-up doll in Japan, so popular to the point where it is even used as a synonym for other dolls from different companies. Perhaps it implies that Sans is adaptable due to Licca-chan’s nature as a doll and how she is in a constant state of change to reflect the times. It also seems to be a pun on “liquor” because Sans was talking about beer in the English version. I tried to scour the Japanese fandom for clues, but they also seemed stumped. If anyone has any ideas on what this could mean, please let me know!

Regardless, “Sans” doesn’t seem to be his actual name. Perhaps his true name was Gaster...?

Additionally, If the player changes the name of the fallen child via going into the code, this message appears in the stats menu. The vernacular is very Sans-like, with his frequent use of question tags at the end of his sentences (I counted 14 huh’s from Sans).

Finally, let’s talk about the number six. We know that it’s Gaster’s number--All of the explicitly Gaster-related fun events trigger for fun values in the sixties, Gaster’s stats are all comprised of 6′s, Gaster’s “typer-value” is 666--you get the idea.

The concept art Toby drew for the Alarm Clock’s character screen features what is presumably Sans and the number six.

“The Choice”--the track that plays during Sans’s judgements--is “Undertale” slowed down by 666%.

Section IV - Angels and Demons (The “Why”)

In modern day culture, 666 is closely associated with the devil. The Book of Revelation (13:17-18) asserts that 666 is “the number of a man” (this is important, and we’ll come back to it later) and is “the number of the Beast”. The Beast is mentioned as “coming out of the abyss”.

Sounds a lot like someone else we know, doesn’t it? And how fitting for Sans, the one who judges our sins and demands us “to burn in hell”.

But if we go further, the Beast of Revelation is described to have seven heads representing seven kings. The beast itself is an eighth king who is of the seven and "was and is not and shall ascend out of the bottomless pit, and go into perdition."

Chara is an eighth of the seven fallen children.

There’s something Chara, Sans, and Gaster all share, and it’s their association with demons.

Here is an excerpt from the Cutting Room Floor:

Among the four strings in version 1.0, the last one, designated by variable “demond”, stands out for two reasons.

The letter “d” is separate from the other letters denoting the demon variables--the rest, “x”, “y”, and “z” are in sequential alphabet order.

The speech pattern of the last string is different from the others. It has that signature question tag at the end of the sentence that a certain character is known for.

In version 1.001, the strings clearly reflect Chara’s speech pattern. This time, all the variables are in sequential order from “a” to “d”.

Pieces of dialogue at the near-end of a genocide route from Chara and Sans. Recall that Chara is using the same “Now” from earlier with Gaster and Sans.

Chara makes a reference to Banana Yoshimoto's book “Kitchen”. Take note of the page number.

Chara is also linked to the number nine. It’s the highest achievable stat in-game. It’s the stat of the locket and real knife. It’s how much damage Chara deals. It’s also the number six flipped upside down.

The connections are undeniable.

And yet, it goes further. Let’s take a look at how Christmas comes in to play.

In Deltarune, there are a few references to it, the most foremost probably being the importance of Noelle Holiday as a character. We also get Lancer’s laugh and the joke with “Krismas”.

Back to Undertale, there is significant Christmas iconography represented by “Gyfmas” and Gyftrot (bearing a strong resemblance to Photoshop Flowey, the DT Extractor, and Gaster Blasters).

What I’d like to focus on is Santa. Papyrus describes him as “a chubby, smiling man who loves to surprise people.” From the thank you note addressed to Santa we find in Sans’s room, we can assume that Sans is a Santa, at least to Papyrus. It’s pretty fitting, since Sans can be described as someone who “knows if [we’ve] been bad or good”. Maybe he can even tell if we’re sleeping or awake with how the Dark World appears to be linked with sleep and dreams (please read my theory on Sans being a Darkner for more on this).

So we can reasonably conclude that Sans presents himself as a friendly, child-oriented figure, in-line with the nature of Comic Sans, a font for children, and Ice-E, a mascot of a company marketed towards children.

…

Santa is an anagram of Satan.

…

To recap: Gaster’s association with the number 666 marks him as a “demon”. Chara and Sans are also called demons and similarly have connections to the number 6. This is more evidence that Gaster and Sans is or used to be the same people, and Chara has some form of correspondence with them.

I failed to mention before that there is actually a second Beast of Revelation “from the Earth” with "two horns like a lamb”. From the “earth” like Flowey, with horns like Asriel.

Asriel is most likely the “Angel” depicted in the prophecy within the scope of Undertale; he’s named similarly to Azrael, an angel of death, and one of his attacks is literally called “Angel of Death”. He also bears a striking resemblance to the Deltarune in his God of Hyperdeath form.

Surprise, surprise, he and Sans also share parallels.

Let’s start with their introductions. “Flowey the flower”. “Sans the skeleton”. It’s a similarly alliterative greeting and they’re both using fake names.

Mirrored dialogue yet again...

…and similar meta-commentary.

These three characters--Sans/Gaster, Chara, and Flowey/Asriel--they have all fallen. Gaster fell into his creation. Chara fell into the Underground. Asriel had “fallen down”. (Sans and Papyrus are also the only sibling pair other than Chara and Asriel. I won’t talk about Papyrus in this part though because this thing is shaping up to be too long already.)

What does this mean for Sans? I have a personal theory.

Above the entryway of the Judgement Hall, there is a reversed Deltarune. The triangles are inverted and the wings are more bat-like. In the room where only Sans appears, the same room that plays a version of “Undertale” slowed down 666%.

I think Sans is a candidate for the Angel prophesized to destroy the world in Deltarune. I think he is Sans Serif, a seraph. He fell into his experiment and became a “fallen” angel, a demon.

The Angel’s Heaven mentioned alongside, on the other hand... Heaven can also be used to refer to God. Dog is an anagram of God.

Sans has many, many connections with dogs, especially one Annoying Dog. More on this next time.

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

#undertale #deltarune #undertale theory #deltarune theory #sans #gaster #cellytheory

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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 3 years

Text

Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 3)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge.

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3.

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki needs to ask a favor to Vince Neil, in order to keep someone safe.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead @i-dont-like-rice @nikki-sexx @smokeandmirrorz

Bittersweet. That was the best way to describe Nikki’s emotional state as he got teleported in front of Vince’s house. They weren’t the biggest fans of each other. He was always so annoyed by his singer, whom he considered more of a diva prince than a front man.

Sometimes Vince Neil was a stupid spoiled fucker, in his opinion, yet he needed him. What made his blood boil the most was that he had to put his pride to the side, because this wasn’t about him but about Tommy, and there was no way in hell he would have disappointed him again, even if that meant having to deal with the blonde’s bullshit.

He decided to get in the blonde’s house but without showing himself at first. He wasn’t being avoidant ( absolutely not) but just he wanted more time to think, that’s all. The first thing he noticed was how different Vince’s mansion looked from Mick’s : outside there was a big pool, in which the clear water was shining thanks to the sunny day, meanwhile the inside was mostly white and gave the whole house a very elegant and snobby atmosphere; however it was very messy too, which was a huge disappointment.

It reminded him of the singer: face of an angel but inside he had his demons. Who didn’t to be honest? Unfortunately Nikki wasn’t so lucky to get an angel face to hide his dirty soul, he felt like everyone could tell how fucked up he was.

Lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice Vince passing right through him, talking on the phone in an exasperated tone.

“I know Doc, you repeated that hundreds of times! Yeah , I’ll call Mick and Tommy and we will do this fucking conference!”

There was a small pause. Doc was probably answering back, and Vince looked like he was about to smash the phone on the ground.

“What’s holding us? We fucking lost our bassist, our friend and brother. Jesus, I fucking get it that you want our money but show some fucking mercy, bastard! Fuck you!” He violently put the phone down, only to fall ungracefully on the couch.

The whole conversation made the bassist laugh out of anger. He knew Doc was all about money, especially because they made his life a living hell, but Vince appearing concerned about his death was honestly so fake.

What? Were you saying that Vince Neil was mourning him? The guy who kept fucking up the band over and over again was sad for him?

“Fucking Nikki, real dick move you pulled there!”

Nikki didn’t wait one second before sitting on the couch and making himself visible to the blonde.

“Oh Vinnie, that’s so rude to say.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vince screamed, trying to back away but just managing to fall off the couch.

The other man couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Nikki, is that you? What kind of joke is this?!”

“Yeah. Look it might sound nuts but I’m a ghost. I’m dead and couldn’t pass through because I have unfinished business to solve.”

If looks could kill, well Nikki would have died again judging by how Vince was staring at him. He saw his face turning into an angry snarl before he started to yell.

“What the fuck, Sixx?! You die, leave us all alone and then you even have the courage to stay a fucking ghost! You fucking selfish prick!”

The bassist felt his blood boiling, well not literally but he got the same feeling as if he still had blood pumping in his body. How did Vince dare to say such things? He was the selfish prick, he was the one never caring and always causing trouble. He was destroying the band!

“I’m a selfish prick?! I didn’t decide to fucking die! I put my heart and soul in the band and you kept destroying it. Now you want to accuse me? Fuck you!”

“You didn’t want to die? Oh well, what did you think would happen if you kept injecting that shit in your veins. We are fucking screwed now, without a bassist and ready to split up!”

Oh that was funny! Vince wanted to shame him, as Nikki was the only one drinking and fucking up with drugs. Oh sure Mick, Tommy and him could do anything but Nikki dares to shoot up, oh he’s a junkie! However he knew it was different, it wasn’t a simple way to party for him... He needed it to be alive. He had tons of pages written in his diaries that could be used as a proof.

“Oh because you’re such a saint, aren’t you Vinnie? I’m the bad one, I’m the one out of control. Well guess what? The only person I hurt was myself, meanwhile we can’t say the same thing for you!”

It was a low blow, a terrible one and Nikki knew that. Rage blinded him, but that didn’t mean he had to dredge up the past, especially on something as horrible as Razzle’s death.

Good job Sikki, great way to get your friend to do what you want.

Vince’s face turned red, his fists clenched and got up to Nikki’s nose. He looked like he was about to punch him, but he had to realize it wasn’t going to happen since the bassist was not tangible, so he kicked a small table.

“You’re the only one who you hurt? What about the band, the fans, all those people you lied to and made suffer. Most importantly, what about Tommy, Nikki? How is he? Because it doesn’t look like he wasn’t hurt when you left him all alone, when you preferred shooting up instead of caring for him.”

Tommy. If he knew Vince’s weak point, the singer knew his too. It fucking hurt so bad, now he was the one wishing to be able to slap him.

“You don’t know a fuck about me or Tommy. Shut the fuck up!”

“Oh, I know all the times I saw him scanning the room around hoping to find you, all the times he looked heartbroken when you disappeared in the bathroom during rehearsal. I saw him after you destroyed him, how he still loved you even if you threw him away like trash. His two worst nightmares came true: you left him and you died. So tell me again Nikki, how did you just hurt yourself?

He wasn’t about to cry, even if he felt like a thousand legs were kicking his chest, he wasn’t about to give that fucker the satisfaction to see him crying ( he probably couldn’t even do that). But after the pain came the realization : he was there for Tommy. He was angry to forget that this wasn’t about him but about the drummer, and he probably ruined everything.

Now the hard part came : swallowing his pride down and convincing Vince. Oh, he would probably torment the bassist as slowly as he could, but eventually he had to accept. Fuck, the two of them knew each other since high school!

“How’s Tommy?” His voice was so low, he doubted the singer heard him, but somehow he did.

“Oh, so now you want to know how he is?!” His voice was still loud and angry, but he must have seen the desperation on Nikki’s face, because he decided to answer anyway. “ He’s a mess. I just talked with him very briefly, he wanted to know if it was real. Then Doc fucking occupied this phone like it was his bitch, so I haven’t called him again, yet.”

This wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, it wasn’t fucking reassuring at all… Fuck, literally anything could have happened, Tommy could have hurt himself or left the country and this was all because of him. He just hoped his family was going to be close to him, he was loved, they would have never left him alone. That was supposed to be his job too, but he failed.

He failed his sweet Tommy.

“Sixx, what are you thinking about?”

It was the moment. Even if his heart wasn’t beating, he still felt the oppressive pressure of anxiety. He wanted to run but he had to do it.

Swallow your pride. You fucking owe it to Tommy.

“Vince, promise me that you’ll protect Tommy, no matter what.”

“What?” The blonde was visibly confused and how to blame him!

“You were right, I broke Tommy and he’s going to have such a hard time. He fucking loved me, even if I didn’t deserve it, and now I’m terrified he’s going to destroy himself. You can’t let that happen!”

“Nikki…”

“I fucking love him Vince. I still love him so much. He deserves a good life, I can’t ruin him even in death. He needs support.”

“Why me? It’s not like Tommy and I are best friends.”

“Because both you and him have known each other for a long time, and when the band will keep playing there’s going to be you, him and Mick left. He would never tell his stuff to Mick and he has something else to do, which means that you have to do it.”

A dry laugh escaped from Vince’s mouth.

“What if he doesn’t want to get helped?”

“You know how to get what you want. You’ll find a way, I’d do it but I’m a little dead… look I know you hate me but I’m only asking this. Like I said to Mick, this is my dead man’s wish.”

“Okay.” The voice was so low and Nikki barely had the time to react before Vince disappeared in the kitchen.

All his insecurities came back to eat him alive. What was even the point of being a ghost if he still had feelings? The truth was that he wasn’t sure on how much Vince could help, sure having someone close to Tommy was good, but he knew his boyfriend and fuck if he was a stubborn fucker.

His boyfriend.

It was a dagger through his chest, yet it still felt warm like the first time Tommy called him that. His face always lit up whenever he said it. The drummer always made loving him seem like the easiest thing in the world, as it was even possible to love someone like Nikki.

But Tommy did and what did he get in return? A junkie boyfriend and eternal heartache, because the love of his life was dead now.

Vince came back with a beer and softer expression on his face. Nikki didn’t move from the couch so he sat back to where he was.

“I will do it. I’ll keep an eye on Tommy.” His firm voice eased Nikki’s worries a bit.

Fuck, he never expected to see Vince Neil agreeing with him.

“Thanks dude, I know you hate me but Tommy didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t hate you.” His voice was shocked and the bassist had to suppress a laugh.

Yeah sure Vince Neil, not hating Nikki Sixx.

“Oh c’mon, don’t tell me you weren’t happy to hear I was gone.”

“Fuck no. Nikki we might have fought a lot and you were a fucking pain in the ass, but I’d never want your death. I cried, you were still my band mate and brother!”

He wasn’t sure why this whole conversation was hitting him so hard. It was probably because he didn’t know how to react to the simple act of someone caring for him beside Tommy. Especially when this someone was his singer.

But did they really hate each other as they thought they did? If the roles were reversed, would he be happy about his death?

“I felt the same. Ya know, when we thought you were dead in the car crash.”

Vince gave him a small sad smile.

“Maybe we can bury the hatchet. You don’t follow me for eternity and I won’t talk shit about you in interviews. Deal?”

“Deal.” Nikki smirked.

It’s time to go, Nikki.

The same sense of helplessness he felt before with Mick, came back. Because he could pretend everything was somehow normal, until the voice reminded him that this wasn’t his place. Even if in this case it was for the best for him to go, considering how awkward it felt for both of them to be so friendly with one another.

“Vince, I have to go now.”

The singer made an expression between sad and relieved, but maybe for the first time ever, it was genuine.

“Don’t be a stranger. Send us some bottles of Jack or some strippers from hell, okay?”

Nikki let out a chuckle. Since when he was laughing with Vince Neil?

“I’ll try my best. Vince, keep the promise.”

“He loves you. You should visit him, he deserves to say goodbye to you one last time.”

He knew that, he fucking knew that already! It didn’t matter how hard he was trying to avoid that, he was going to go to him anyway, not only because Tommy deserved it but because he was selfish.

He wanted to see him one last time too.

“I know. I’m going to go to his house next.”

Vince seemed happy and gave him a small smile. Nikki took a deep breath and got out of Neil's mansion, feeling every type of emotion.

God, now it was show time.

#nikki sixx #Tommy Lee #Vince Neil #Mick Mars #Motley Crue #motley crue fanfiction #80s rock band #80srock #fanfiction #My writing #tommy lee x nikki sixx

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Note

so, i have come with an idea that came from watching the deleted scenes from dazed and confused. slater has stated that “it’s about quality, not quantity”. and when i tell you my mind had a field day with that🥵🥵whew! the man totally fucks and knows how to make it amazing, i just know it! - ❤️

AHHH OMFG THAT LINE. It invokes so many thots within me. So many, holy shit. And here you are, blessing me with a chance to play out these thots of mine. I love you so so so so so so much, angel.

Let's take this a step further shall we? How about Slater... deflowering a virgin... Mhm. I'm going there. Same reader/you from the last Ron Slater ask, btw. This should be fun af.

LIFE EDIT: This is kind of an alternate take. Kind of a what if Ron x you blew off the party at the moon tower and went back to have a little fun at his place all fucking night instead... So. yeahhh.

Warnings:

Sexual content ; oral sex, male giving... If you're not 18+ this post ain't for you, keep it moving, kiddos. If you choose to stay after this warning, that's your choice.

TAGGING:

@chasingeverybreakingwave - bc Ron fucking Slater, bb. And I love you and I wanted you to see this, lmaooo. I may be one step closer to caving in and doing 'the thing'.

@twistnet - Bc I love you and our talks ahh.. inspired this.

OTHER STUFF:

[ FAQ - MULTIFANDOM TAG LIST ]

Ron Slater & first time;

Things were getting a little heated. The tension between you two couldn't get any thicker if you tried to make it so. His hands were literally all over you. You had two hickies already and there was absolutely no way you were hiding either of them later and you fucking loved it...

The discussion in Pickford's car turned to sex for whatever reason and Dawson, as per usual, was being a dick. When Ron popped off at Dawson about preferring quality over quantity, it had you conflicted because see... You were still a virgin. So you figured that given you knew for a fact that Ron wasn't, this alone would rule you out.

And the way it kind of invaded your brain and got to you, that had you a little nervous. Had you bitten off more than you could chew? What if things went further and you were really bad in bed? And then, another thought... a bigger one, might I add, that hit you with the force of a speeding car at a brick wall...

,, Wait a minute... I'm actually thinking about sex with him. No, I've made up my mind. I want him. If I'm gonna do this, it's gonna be with him. Nobody else." the thought took over. You were so caught up in the realization that yes, you absolutely wanted to give up your virginity to Ron Slater that you failed to miss when he nudged you and asked you if you agreed. But as soon as you realized, you decided you better just get the truth out there and do it now.

"I wouldn't know actually, kind of still a virgin." you answered, shrugging it off because in the grand scheme of things, it really didn't matter at all.

When Dawson nearly choked on his beer and Ron swallowed hard, fixing his eyes on you as he bit his lip and seemed to get lost in his own thoughts for a few seconds, you cleared your throat, speaking up to provide your own input, "But if I were picking a side here, yeah. I'd have to say I'd want quality over quantity. Nobody wants it to last all night when the guy doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, right?" you gave Dawson a pointed smirk as you said it, almost mocking him for his earlier statement about Ron and not being past the sniffing butts stage when it came to the ladies.

Dawson mimicked you before turning to face the front of the car again and once he had turned his back, you flipped him off.

Beside you, Ron was staring. You could feel his eyes as they fixed on you. Looking you up and down. Almost as if he were puzzled by what you'd admitted.

"A virgin, sweetheart?" Ron's breath was warm against your ear. A shiver passed through your body and you bit down on your lip as his hand settled on your bare thigh. Squeezing. Moving slowly up the insides and making you barely able to stop a whimper. You locked eyes with him and nodded, swallowing hard as you did so. Leaning in to whisper quietly, "It's not like it's a bad thing."

"Oh, it definitely ain't." Ron answered. His hand crept just a little higher. His breath caught in his throat and under the glow of a passing streetlamp shining through the back glass as the car passed beneath it, you could see the way his pupils were darkened. The way he licked his lips as he continued to fuck you with his eyes.

,, okay, since he's not weirded out..." your brain chimed in. And before you could stop yourself, you were whispering against the shell of his ear again, "But.. I'm looking to change that." as your hand drifted down, settling over the way he strained at his jeans already. He shifted around as covertly as possible, bucking himself against your hand. He panted against your ear in response, "You are, huh? Thinkin about anybody in particular, sweetheart? Because I know a guy..." he pulled away, tongue dragging slowly over his lips. Your breath caught in your throat because as he did this, his hand crept up the insides of your thighs even higher and settled palm down against soaked fabric. Squeezing your throbbing sex and almost making you moan as you rocked against his hand clumsily.

"You do, hm? What if I said you were the one I had in mind?" you ghosted your palm over the way his cock twitched, straining even tighter against his jeans.

He bit back a moan, just barely. Bucked himself upward against your moving hand. Managing to pant against the shell of your ear a frenzied warning. "When I get you alone, sweetheart... Fuck." as the movement of your palm over the bulge sped up clumsily.

"Stop the car, man!" Ron practically yelled it out at Pickford and Pickford slammed on the brakes next to a little yellow house. Very cookie cutter. Once the car was stopped, Ron was punching the back of Dawson's seat. "Lemme out, man. I, uh.. I forgot somethin in my room earlier. You wanna come in with me, princess?" he gazed back at you and you nodded. Your panties flooding all over again as the slick pooled and coated the insides of your thighs. Dawson got out to let Ron out and Ron leaned back into the car, scooping you out. Taking off at a laughing run towards the side of the house.

Putting your back against the side of the house as he stopped next to a window. His hands all over you and your legs circling his waist as his mouth dove against yours. Slowly. Deliberately. Kisses so deep that you almost forgot where you ended and he began, let alone remembering to breathe properly. Just when you were starting to get lightheaded, he broke the kiss, pulling away to stare at you.

The hunger in his eyes was something you'd never seen before. Ever. He bit his lip and nodded to the window. "I'm gonna have t' put you through my window, darlin. Don't wanna hear my ma bitchin..."

You nodded. Taking a shaky and deep breath. Your heart was racing. Your stomach was flipping and flopping lazily. You laughed softly, grabbing him by the chin and pulling his mouth back against yours. "Don't you want me, baby?"

"Fuck yeah." he chuckled into the kiss. After a few seconds, the two of you managed to tumble through his open bedroom window and the second you had, all bets were off. His hands were tugging your shirt up over your head and then they were all over you and you were trying to pull off his shirt as your back hit the mattress and he followed your body down. Propping on an elbow as he settled on his side beside you in the bed, staring down at you. In awe. Open adoration and desire.

"We're not makin it to the party tonight, darlin." and you whimpered at his words, taking a few deep breaths. "That's fine with me."

"I just really wanna take my time with you." he mumbled as he positioned himself between your legs, capturing both of your hands above your head in one of his own, his mouth crashing against yours, straying from it to ghost down your neck. Teeth scraping against skin. Tugging. Leaving little bites behind as he muttered huskily against it, "Fuck." and rocked himself right into you.

You raised one of your hands, shakily going for the button on his jeans and he rose up, slipping off the bed. Letting his jeans pool at his ankles. Giving his thick cock a pump or two as he stared down at you hungrily. Licking his lips real slow as he sank down. Working his way up your body, his hand disappearing between the two of you so he could work the buttons on your cut offs free. Tugging them down slowly, a smile playing at his lips when you came alive beneath him because the way he was touching you was all new and completely overwhelming to you. And he absolutely loved that thought.

He went for your bra next and by instinct, you threw your arms up. An attempt to cover yourself. He shook his head, reaching up to lower your arms. A throaty growl escaping his mouth as it dove against yours and his hands moved down to your hips. Hooking in the thin bands of your underwear. Working those down your lower body and marveling at how wet you were for him already. He raised your legs up to his shoulder and locked eyes with you.

"You're so fuckin pretty, angel. So fuckin pretty." his breath tickled your skin as his mouth worked up your leg. That thick tongue making you grip the blanket on his bed before he was even anywhere close to where you wanted him most. As soon as his eyes settled on your slickened thighs, he gazed up at you. Eyes filled with lust. When his tongue dragged over the inside of your thigh and you felt him stop.. sink his teeth into your skin to leave another mark behind, you reached down, fingers tangling in long dark hair. Trying to guide his mouth.

One of his hands settled on your hip and he rolled his tongue over your dripping center. Sucking in a breath and then exhaling. The way it felt cool against your skin had goosebumps forming over your body and he muttered lazily against your sex, "Fuck you're so wet. So fuckin wet. Kinda makes me wanna stay buried down here all night."

"Fuck." you moaned out, back arching away from the mattress as his tongue and fingers slipped into your tight hole, stretching you out. Getting you ready for everything he planned to do to you tonight.

As his tongue twisted and curled and kept the same pace as his fingers, you moaned. Struggled to breath on more than one occasion. Tried to remember that his mother was in the house and you had to at least try to be quiet.

But something told you that Ron Slater was about to make you staying quiet harder than you'd ever imagine...That tonight was going to be a very long and very fun night.

#Anonymous

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world-of-aus · 4 years

Text

Behind the Screen - (Part 7)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: 18+

Author’s Note: Is anyone else confused on there days, because i literally thought today was Monday and i thought i was on schedule only to realize it was actually wednesday! So sorry for the delay, i’m debating moving around the day updates for Behind the Screen to Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday & Family Matter’s will be Monday, Wednesday and i’m also aiming for Fridays, im thinking if i make this change it may help me feel caught up! With finishin up our year, and being a fulltime mom updates are a little hard, but im trying! As always tag-list are still open for both BTS & FM, so if you’d like to be added just send me a message or ask. Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying the work i put out!

Part 6 / SERIES MASTERLIST

“How bad is it?” Bucky groaned head resting in your battered hands.

“I’m pretty sure it’s broken, I don’t think I can set this,” you sighed gnawing on your bottom lip in worry as you assessed his injured nose, “Buck I really think we should get you to med bay, why didn’t you go there first before coming here, I'm not a medical professional.” You muttered applying more pressure to the soaked cotton hanging from his nostrils.

“take my nose between your fingers will you,” he grunted nasally.

Bucky was having trouble breathing, through his more than likely broken bloodied nose, the hot air from his mouth fanning over the palms of your hands where they rested on his cheek, “buck seriously this is broken, let me get you down to m-”

His fingers looped into the tops of your leggings, pulling you into the slot between his tense thighs, “stop with the med bay, I'm not going and you're not taking me,” he wheezed, “set it for me, you do it to Steve all the time,” he murmured.

You stared at the bloodied man before you in bewilderment, “Buck that was once and it was his shoulder, we’re talking about your nose here,” you voiced exasperatedly, “what if I break it more than you’ve already managed to do!”

“Sweetheart,” he grunted, the word going straight through you, “will you just straighten it up, I can’t fucking breathe.”

You knew you shouldn’t, but you also knew how stubborn Bucky could be when he was this badly messed up after a mission, and man was his brooding showing through, and where there was brooding his stubbornness was sure to be as well. There was just simply no arguing, you would be here longer than needed if you didn’t just do what he was asking.

“count of three?” you questioned.

He nodded his head, his fingers holding onto your waist as he pulled you in a little closer, “alright,” you took a breath, “one, two, th-” your thumbs pressed into the sides of his noise, fingers pushing on his nose, a crack sounding below your fingers as you pushed it back into place.

“Son of a bitch!” he growled, “what the fuck doll, I said three!” he grunted his fingers pressing harder into your skin sure to leave a mark. His head fell to your shoulder, his breathing labored, “Buck had I counted to three you probably would have moved away at the last second.”

“I wouldn’t have, should have just done it myself,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped past your lips, “m’sorry buck, but if you had gone to med bay like Steve had advised when you guys landed instead of catching me in the hallway maybe they would have been gentler with you,”

Bucky lifted his head up from your shoulder then, “maybe I wanted you to be the one to tend to me, have you not read those types of fics of mine?” he questioned a teasing tone to his voice.

Laughter fell from your lips, “I'm regretting ever letting you find out, I mean how long has it been now and you still tease me about it?”

A low chuckle fell from Bucky’s lips as his eyes looked over your face, you felt so exposed in that moment, “Wouldn’t say I'm teasing you in that way doll, but I am teasing you in another way,” he replied his voice dropping to a whisper.

You cocked your head, eyebrow raised, “Buck” you warn, “don’t you star-”

His hands are cupping your face then, thumb running over your lips silencing you. He’s staring at you in a way that has your heart stalling in your chest, your knees going weak. He’s leaning forward then, bringing you in closer, his breath ghosting over your parted lips.

His name falls from your lips in a silent whisper, his lips close the distance between the two of you. The kiss is slow, un-rushed like the two of you had time. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, coaxing you to let him in. Your fingers are curling, looking for something to bury themselves in, you push further into his open legs your hands sliding up his chest where they weave their way into his long locks. You’re pushed against his warm broad chest, lips magnetically drawn to his as your tongues continue to dance, delicate moans spilling from your lips into his.

The need for air becomes too much in the wake of your heated kiss as you draw your head back, a gasp falling from your lips as you suck in a lung full of air. Bucky nuzzles your neck then, placing delicate kisses along your awaiting skin. His hands have found their way to your hips, fingers gliding along the hem of your shirt slipping under to feel the soft skin that lays there. Your hands still weaved in his hair, are pulling his head back to you, your lips connecting with his again. The kiss is not like the first, this one is fiery, demanding, your senses having been clouded over with want, a need building up within.

He speaks your name into your lips, you heart fluttering wildly in your chest from the sound, never had your name sounded so wonderful falling from someone’s lips as they did his. Your leaning in again when three sharp knocks to your door have you both jumping apart from one another,

“y/n,” Steve's voice calls out, your head falls against the wall, a silent groan falling from your lips.

“is Bucky still with you, he’s needed for a debriefing,” his muffled voice adds through your closed door.

From where your leaning against the wall, your eyes look over to Bucky his face unreadable, and you wonder if Steve has managed to do it yet again. A gentle sigh leaves your lips as you push off from the wall, “Just finished Steve,” you lied not daring to look in Bucky’s direction, “I’ll send him right out to you,”

No words are spoken as you move around Bucky’s unmoving form from where he sits on your bathroom vanity. You can feel his eyes on you as you pick up the bloodied cotton and wrappers thrown around him. You want to say something, but your words are failing you, all that you can think to speak is “Steve’s waiting Buck, you should go before he comes looking for you again,” you murmured continuing to clean the already clean counter. The sigh that leaves Bucky’s lips has you looking up at him, your breath catches in your throat at the storm on Bucky’s face. Not wanting to stick around to be caught in it, you did the only thing you could think to do in that moment, you walked away to busy yourself and your racing thoughts.

Bucky wants to reach out to you the second he sees your face falter, he wants to stop you, make you stay, tell Steve to fuck off, but he knows you, he knows what you’re doing inside that head of yours. So he lets you go, let’s you walk away from him, even though he wants nothing more than to pull you back into his arms. Walking out your door to go to the debriefing with Steve was the last thing that he wanted to do.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you while Steve babbles away of the disarray of today’s mission, but he can’t get you out of his mind. Bucky’s mind is solely on you, on how you look, feel, everything about you, and he’ll be damned if he gets an earful from Steve on not being focused, which it does.

Bucky can’t get out of the meeting room quick enough, waiting for everyone else to leave the room before he does so as to not throw them off when they see him run off in the other direction. He’s quick to walk the halls, feet pounding down the slick tile like a man on a mission.

He stops in front of the door, his mind and heart racing wondering if he should just turn around, tuck tail, and go back to his room. He doesn’t want to though, he wants to put himself out there, he wants to put himself in arms reach for you, he wants to do these things with you, he wants you. He doesn’t allow himself to over think as he turns the doorknob, pushing your door open.

Bucky freezes door open midway as he spots you standing in the middle of the room a single white towel wrapped around your wet skinned form. Your eyes are wide, finger clutching the towel tightly, his name is falling from your lips but he doesn’t quiet register it in the haze of his mind. He’s moving forward then, the door swinging closed behind him, as his feet carry him to you.

“Bucky,” you whisper in question stumbling back slightly from the intensity of his gaze. He’s watching you, the rise and fall of your chest, you shouldn’t have this effect on him, but you do. He draws closer to you, his hand rising up to push your damp hair from your face, his fingers curling behind your head, keeping you there. The smell of your body wash lingers on your skin, the scent of coffee and coconut tickling his nose. He’s pushed against you now, his body turning yours as he backs you up into your bed. The back of your legs hit the bed first, your form stumbling, Bucky's hands are gripping the towel as it falls from your body, your back hitting your sheets.

Your cheeks are burning as you look up at him like a deer caught in head lights, your hands scrambling for your sheets to cover your naked form, but Bucky’s voice stops you.

“buck what are you-” he silences you with a finger to his lips. His stare alone causes a shiver to roll up your spine, his gaze predatory.

“buck” you try again.

There’s too many things going on through his mind, he needs to calm himself before he does something he might regret, “fuck” he whispers his eyes trailing your naked form, you’re so beautiful he thinks as he eyes rake over your curves.

“Buck,” you repeat, your eyes looking at him with concern, he can see your restraint in leaning up to check on him, the caution. He's swooping down then, his body fitting over yours, pushing you deeper into the mattress below you. He's caught you off guard, an audible gasping falling from your lips, his head is ducking down, tongue trailing your clavicle, drawing a low moan from you. He braces himself with his left hand, his thighs slotting with yours as his right hand finds its way to your face, thumb tracing along the plump of your lower lip.

“Bucky,” you sigh, his name falling from your lips in a breathy drawn out plea.

“You’re so beautiful sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, his nose running along the underside of your chin, leaving a trail of open wet mouthed kisses, till his lips are finding yours. He lets himself relish in the sounds he pulls from you, the way you feel under him, saving it for later when he’s away from you, something that he can think back to. When he pulls his lips from yours, he can feel the rise and fall of your chest, your plump lips parted slightly, your warm breath fanning across his face.

He really can’t bring himself to look away from you, he had always thought you were beautiful, but having him underneath you like he did now, it was almost to much, almost.

“You know,” he murmurs “when I first went through the tag on my own after I had left your room that first night, I didn’t know what to think, but the more I read through some of these stories the writers wrote, I began to imagine myself doing these things, and do you want to know who I imagined myself doing them with?” he questions. Your nodding then, your breath hitching as you feel his right hand descend down the curves of your body, “you” he whispers, words ghosting over your lips, “I’ve imagined you in every possible scenario that was drawn out for me,” he murmurs nipping at your chin.

Your writhing; back arching as you feel his hand drift to where you need him, “I’ve pictured you on your knees for me, on your back legs spread, arched, as your hands drift down this beautiful body, finger dipping into your warm heat,” the statement is accompanied with his fingers dipping into the slick of you warmth, your mouth falling open in a gasp. “I have pictured you every time, and you never disappoint,” he grunts index finger circling your entrance before he’s dipping in your back arches head thrown back at the pleasure that surges through you.

Your making those noises Bucky loves to hear spill from your lips, the sweetest sounds bubbling from your throat. He’s adding a second finger, curling them in a beckoning motion, grinning against your skin, when he feels how your body reacts. He pushes in deeper, fingers curling quicker, “fuck” you breath out, and Bucky's grinning again knowing he’s found that sweet spot within you.

He loves to see you like this, loves to see how your body reacts to his. His lips are making their way up your face to find your lips, only for you to be seeking out his as well, the action causing you to jostle his nose slightly a low hiss falling from his lips. “Buck your nose,” you gasp breathily, “you really should have gone to med bay.” Bucky can’t help but chuckle, “you really want me to go to the med bay?” he questions his fingers curling again, causing your head to fall back into the sheets.

“you know what would be better than med bay,” he murmurs kissing along your skin, “to see you come apart underneath me,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your skin, “you think you can do that for me angel, you think you could cum for me,” he questions huskily thumb swirling around your clit.

Your mouth falls open in a breathy moan, back arching as he builds you up, fingers thrusting faster, deeper, thumb swirling quicker, harder working you up to that immense pleasure only he can bring you. He feels the moment you fall over the edge, your pussy clenching around his fingers, a loud moan falling from your lips. He continues to thrust his fingers into you, only for you to reach down and take a hold of his hand halting his movements. He glances up at you through his lashes, a grin pulling at his lips as he pulls his finger from your wet slick.

You're watching through hooded eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. A shiver rolls through your body at the action, you don’t get the chance to utter the fuck that wants to escape your mouth with Bucky’s lips crashing onto yours. Bucky licks into your mouth, tongue tangling with yours, letting you taste yourself, a low moan falling from your lips.

“Bucky,” you moan tearing your spit slick lips from his, “please,” you plead.

And Bucky swears he’s never heard sweeter words than those that spill from your mouth, “what do you want sweetheart, tell me what you want,” he replies in a low whisper, his fingers trailing over your lips. He watches in awe as your tongue peeks out, licking the digit, your lips closing over it as you suck it into your mouth.

“Fuck look at you,” a moan falls from your lips, “the things I want to do to you,” he grunts, “I want to fuck you, fuck you so hard you won’t be able to leave this bed, be buried so deep inside of you that you’ll never forget what it feels like, would you like that, do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes please,” you moan, “please fuck me Bucky,” you beg.

Bucky growls low in his throat, his lips capturing yours in another heated kiss of teeth and tongue. You have no idea what you do to him, how riled up you get him. Your innocent to the reactions he has because of you, though he thinks you know with how hard he is in his tactical gear, his cock straining against the confines of his pants.

Needing to feel your skin against his he slides off of you, a whine leaving your lips as your fingers reach out for him. You watch him peel his shirt off tossing it to the side, his hands going for his jeans next, but your hands are stopping him, pushing his hands away as you work the button and zipper off. Your hands are hooking into the waistband of his jeans and boxers pulling them down swiftly, a low moan falls from your lips as his cock springs free from the right confines of his pants.

He’s kicking them off the rest of the way, his body covering yours once more. Your perfect he thinks, so fucking perfect, and you’re with him like this, in a way he never could have imagined having you. His hand is sliding down the side of your body where it hooks underneath your leg pulling till it’s wrapped around his waist his hips falling into place between your legs.

Bucky’s mind is hazy with pleasure, as he feels every inch of you against his, like you were for him. “Fuck sweetheart,” he murmurs with a roll of his hips, “you’re so fucking wet, did I get you this wet?” He questions his cock nudging your clit.

A moan falls from your lips, “use your words sweetheart, did I make you this wet?” He grunts thrusting his lips shallowly

“God yes,” you whine needing to feel more, “please Buck,”

“Please what, tell me what you want,” he whispers lips ghosting just over yours.

“Please fuck me, please I need to feel you,” you begged back arching, your chest pressing into his.

Bucky wastes no time as he lines himself up with your slick entrance, his hips thrusting forward, teeth gritting as your heat welcomes him. He stops when he’s fully sheathed, breath coming out labored, as you flutter around him, clenching. “Fuck sweetheart,” he grits, “feel so good around me,” he murmurs.

He pulls back to only the tip, before surging forward, the thrust jostling you beneath him, earning him a throaty groan of pleasure from you, “Fuck, yes,” you hiss, “please don’t stop,” you moan.

Bucky grins into your neck, nipping at your sweat slick skin, his thrusts are slow, hard, and deep, a buildup that has you writhing and whining just for him. Your fingers are winding through Buckys hair, tugging the harder his thrusts get. Your pulling his hair bringing his face to yours, your lips meeting his in a breathy kiss.

“Fuck right there, right fucking there,” you moan into his mouth when he changes the angle on you hitting that pleasurable spot within you.

Bucky’s left-hand catches under your right thigh, lifting till it sits high up on his hip, it changes the angle further, a broken gasp falls from your lips as it drives him in deeper, “fuck it feels so good,” you groan, you feel so good,” you sob clenching around him.

Bucky wants to reiterate your exact words but with the way your warm wet heat is clenching around his aching cock, he can only manage a low moan of your name. Your it for him he thinks, the way you take him, the pleasure you bring him and he knows he can bring you; he doesn’t think he could ever go tired of this.

“Shit,” he breathes his hips slowing slightly, he wants to drag you out a little longer, wants to rebuild that pleasure. He moves again fucking up into the wet heat of your cunt, drawing low moans from you, your breath hitching as your pleasure builds up. Bucky feels spurred on as he continues to fuck into you, bringing you back to that sweet edge, he can tell your close by the way your pussy clenches around him, and he knows the thing to send you right over.

His left hand is leaving your thigh to slide in between your bodies, delving in the warmth of your heat, index finger seeking out that sweet little bundle of nerves.

“Come on baby,” he murmurs finger picking up speed around your aching clit, “i know you want to cum for me, are you going to cum for me?” he questions finger swiping a little quicker. Its enough to send your over the edge, as your body tenses, thighs shaking, low moans of pleasure ripping from your mouth.

Fuck Bucky thinks, if that isn’t the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

His name is falling from your lips in a low chant, the pleasure is too much, you need him to cum, you want to feel him cum. And he does, he cums with his lips pressed to yours a low groan of pleasure falling from his lips and into yours as he loses the rhythm, his body thrumming with pleasure.

Your both laying there bodies lax, Bucky’s head nestled into your neck, your fingers absentmindedly running up and down his back drawing the occasional shiver from him. Its quiet, but its comfortable, you’re the first to speak up, “Bucky where did this come from you,” you murmured quietly.

He peeked his head up looking up at you, “you complaining,” he teased earning a laugh and a swat to the arm from you.

“No i’m not complaining but,” you paused mulling over your words, “it was just unexpected, I thought you might have been thrown off with Steve again,” your murmured looking away from him.

Bucky didn’t like that you did that, that you felt you needed to hide from him, “i told you I wanted to do these things with you, and I meant it,” he spoke taking your chin in his hand so your eyes would meet his again.

“so, is this part of the new agreement?” you questioned not really knowing what this new agreement had entailed since you and Bucky had never actually sat and talked about it.

“You could say that, there’s things I want to try and like I said, I only want to try them with you, if you don’t want to do this you can always tell me to just go and I won’t hold an of this against you,” though those were the words that had fallen from his lips, his mind was saying something entirely different. Bucky could only hope you would agree to this new agreement, because while he felt he couldn’t have you the way he really wanted if he could have you like this, well this would be enough.

Part 8

Behind The Screen Tag-List: @ladifreakingda @georgialeighc13 @racewife2004 @multy-fandom-lover @otvlanga @sailorstupidsblog @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @wantingtobekorra @gazzan-a @clarinette07 @amanda-the-fangirl @im-sure-its-fine @sagechanoafterdark @heyywestman @runaway-escape @ilovesupersoldiers @unlistedpond @rayofdawnworld @badassbaker @spookyanairwin @fandom-basurero @krabby-tentacles @sassy-pelican @lizlepuffs @jaywolf840 @xoasalxo

#behind the screen #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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feralphoenix · 4 years

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BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE NOT PREPARED TO TRY

if you’re following my blog or if you read my fanfiction, you may have seen me talking in tags or comments about how the radiance hollowknight was a pacifist. “feral, wtf?” you may have thought. “she’s the freaking final boss and tries really, really hard to kill you and all her attacks do 2 entire masks damage. where on earth do you get pacifism out of that???”

to you specifically i say, that’s an understandable reaction! the short version of how i got here was that i started thinking about the story implications of radi not inflicting contact damage and took a deep dive into game mechanics and lore. when i came up for air i had made myself Very Sad.

if this intrigues you and you would like to know more, come along with me, i am happy to point out the things i noticed and share the Big Sad around.

this essay is also available on dreamwidth for accessibility purposes, since my layout’s text may be too small for folks on pc with high-res screens.

CONTENT WARNING: This essay discusses pseudo-zombie plagues and associated body horror, colonialism and genocide, horrible things that happened in real life Australian history... you know, the usual topics that come up when I’m talking about Hollow Knight.

ADDITIONAL NOTICE: TPK fans of the “TPK meant well/was working for the greater good”/“TPK and Radi are equally bad”/“TPK is bad but Radi is worse” variety please give this one a pass, it ain’t for you.

finally if youre from a christian cultural upbringing (whether currently practicing, agnostic/secular, or atheist now), understand that some of what i’m discussing here may challenge you. if thinking thru the implications of this particular part of hollow knight worldbuilding/lore is distressing for you, PLEASE only approach this essay when youre in a safe mindset & open to listening, and ask the help of a therapist or anti-racism teacher/mentor to help you process your thoughts & feelings. just like keep in mind that youre listening to an ethnoreligiously marginalized person and please be respectful here or wherever else youre discussing this dang essay

BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE NOT PREPARED TO TRY: The Radiance Doesn’t Deal Contact Damage And That’s Kind Of Fucked Up And Sad

The vast majority of hostile creatures in Hollow Knight deal contact damage: This is to say, if the Wandering Knight (who I’ll probably spend most of this essay calling by their affectionate fan name Ghost) touches a hostile creature, this harms them.

There are exceptions to this rule. The most notable and most oft-memed example is the game’s literal actual true final boss, the Radiance. Not only will Ghost not be harmed by running into any part of her body, but during her stagger animation, where she drops to the boss arena floor on her front with her whole body splayed out, Ghost still isn’t harmed if she lands on top of them! What’s more, this holds true for her full-power form Absolute Radiance, the secret final boss of the Godmaster quest/endings.

A lot of people find this amusing, because it’s a little absurd that a game’s final boss is an exception to such a consistent element of gameplay! Hence all the “haha moth too soft and fluffy for contact damage” jokes. It is objective facts that Radi is very soft and very fluffy, so it’s very easy to understand why people don’t overthink this too much.

Thinking about things I like in gross detail is unfortunately my hobby. When it comes to Hollow Knight this usually leads to me making myself really sad. I’d like to share the fruits of my theorizing with the class, so other people can be sad with me.

Now, from a game design perspective I can think of a lot of reasons why Team Cherry chose for Radiance not to inflict contact damage. Her hitbox only covers the central part of her body. Her limbs are large, so because of the way she floats, if she did contact damage she would be protected from nail strikes from below and to either side. This would give a player who prefers nail combat a punishingly small margin through which they could inflict damage without also taking a hit, potentially forcing them to adapt to a new and unfamiliar play style at the very end of the game. That’s not fun for anybody and tends to make players feel very frustrated.

In addition to this, Radiance’s attacks are all bullet hell-style spells. All of them except the floor hazards inflict two masks of damage, meaning if you want to stay alive and identify points where it’s possible to heal, you need to learn the spell patterns and dodge a lot. Radi is a large boss. If running into her hurt you this would make the bullet hell elements of her fight extra punishing.

So, I think the purely game mechanics reason for Moth Too Soft And Fluffy is in interest of keeping her boss fight fair, and helping players feel like they have a chance of actually defeating her.

Part of why we all love Hollow Knight, though, is that there’s not much in the game that only exists for purely mechanical reasons. There’s always some form of story or lore integration.

So what on earth is the story reason behind why Radiance doesn’t deal contact damage?

OTHER ENEMIES THAT DON’T DEAL CONTACT DAMAGE

Radi isn’t the only enemy (here defined as fightable/killable creature) in Hollow Knight who doesn't inflict contact damage, so let’s take a look at her fellow exceptions to the rule to see what we can learn.

Broadly speaking there are two categories of Enemies That Don’t Deal Contact Damage. The first is enemies or bosses who used to be hostile, but have become friendly to the player. For instance, when characters like Ogrim and Hornet are not being fought in boss battles, touching them won’t cause damage to Ghost. These story characters who Ghost has more or less reconciled with can’t be damaged by the player out of combat either.

In terms of generic enemies who used to be hostile but have become friendly to the player, we have the mantises of the Fungal Wastes and the Siblings/Ghost’s Shade. We learn from the game’s lore that the mantises Did Not Like The Pale King and were hostile to Hallownest, but that they established a ceasefire conditional on their keeping the people of Deepnest (who were also hostile to Hallownest) from leaving through the area’s main entrance/exit in the Fungal Wastes - essentially the two native kingdoms were pitted against one another by the Pale King.

Now, just because there was a ceasefire, that doesn’t mean the mantises take kindly to Hallownest bugs brazenly trespassing into their dang house; they will get in your face and try to kill you unless you have permission to be there. But once you’ve defeated the Mantis Lords in combat and proven yourself worthy of the mantises’ respect, they’ll let you pass through their turf unmolested. They are no longer actively hostile and don't deal contact damage.

(You're still able to attack them, though - maybe because you’d be locked out of receiving the Hunter’s Mark if you complete the Respect quest/achievement before you’ve successfully killed enough mantises? - and if you attack them, or if your pet charm familiars attack them, any mantises you aggroed will fight back and deal contact damage again.)

The Siblings, as well as Ghost’s Shade, are initially indiscriminately hostile. Our window into Shade psychology is limited, but we know that the Shade died violently and the Siblings probably did too; they may be lashing out. They’re also Void creatures, and Ghost looks a lot like the Pale King, whom we can guess from context clues pissed the Void off significantly by using it as his personal play-doh to make tools and toys with and also using its house as his personal garbage dump for baby corpses.

However, once Ghost recalls their past and breaks the mask of the Kingsoul charm to reveal the Void Heart at its core, the Void recognizes them as a part of it, and Ghost becomes able to direct/lead the Void to some extent. As an extension of this, the Siblings and Ghost’s shade become docile and can now be killed by any weapon in one hit instead of just the Dream Nail (which is made of Radiance’s Light and is the Void’s natural weakness). They don’t deal contact damage anymore either.

That’s it for “enemies that inflict contact damage at one point, but stop inflicting it after becoming friendly or neutral to Ghost”.

The generic enemies which don't inflict contact damage include shrumelings, maggots, maskflies, and lightseeds/lifeseeds. These enemies are incapable of inflicting any damage on Ghost whatsoever, because by themselves they are completely helpless entities with no natural defenses.

Shrumelings are infant members of the mushroom clan who are usually protected by adult fungi like shrumal warriors and ogres. Lightseeds and lifeseeds are harmless single-celled organisms. Maskflies are similarly harmless. Maggots, we glean from the Hunter’s Journal and dialogue from False Knight/Failed Champion, are the bottom rung of Hallownest’s society because they are weak and helpless, and are forced into menial and slave labor by other Hallownest bugs because they cannot defend themselves. The maggots’ plight is the whole reason why False Knight/Failed Champion stole Hegemol's armor in the first place, as he wanted to protect his people.

All of these enemies flee when Ghost approaches them. (Some maskfly groups’ flight triggers are set to specific areas on a map and won’t flee if you can avoid stepping on/passing through those areas, but this is clearly due to a programming oversight because their whole Thing is running away.)

But, there’s something interesting to be observed in the case of lightseeds and maggots: They can fight back against and harm Ghost if they use tools. The little flock of lightseeds you chase around the Ancient Basin eventually get sick of Ghost’s shit and take over Broken Vessel/Lost Kin’s corpse, which they puppet around to try to murder you. By doing so they gain access to Broken Vessel/Lost Kin’s considerable combat prowess and become very dangerous, contact damage included in the bargain. (The lightseeds’ doing this seems to evoke the vessel’s spirit, since they reach for Ghost when defeated. That’s not a gesture the lightseeds have any reason to make. The Lost Kin fight, by which the spirit seems to gain some form of closure, becomes available here too.)

False Knight/Failed Champion’s fights work on the same general principle. Now that he has a weapon he can attack Ghost, and his armor deals contact damage. The maggot inside the armor does not inflict contact damage; essentially both his boss fights consist of your whacking the armor until he’s stunned and pops out of the armor for a moment so you can hit his vulnerable real body, which is the only part of him that yields Soul when you smack him. In fact, his boss fights will last forever if you let him recover from being stunned on his own.

Between these two groups, Radiance very obviously doesn’t fit in the first, as she’s the final boss and is very vigorously trying to kill Ghost with various magic spells. You can tell from her Dream Nail dialogue that she’s furious about what the Pale King did to her and her people, and is afraid for her life. She is willing to use everything at her disposal to try to destroy Ghost so she can survive, go free, and get revenge for the Pale King’s crimes. If she could do contact damage to Ghost she would.

So, the only logical conclusion to make is that Radi falls into the second group of enemies that don’t inflict contact damage. She is physically incapable of causing any harm to anyone with only her body. Her magic is deadly as all get out and the 2 masks damage explosion noise probably haunts the nightmares of anyone who’s struggled fighting her, but without it she is helpless.

WHY CAN’T RADIANCE DO CONTACT DAMAGE?

It might be pretty hard to reconcile the fact that a character with Audre Lorde energy as potent as Radi Hollowknight’s is has a whopping 0 ATK. The biggest clues we get in terms of story context for her inability to inflict physical harm of any kind can be found within the culture of the moth tribe, who were her people.

Thistlewind, the backer-designed moth ghost who can be found in the Resting Grounds, tells you that the majority of moths were pacifists, and that individuals like them and like Markoth who learned to wield a nail were in the minority. Thistlewind appears to have learned to fight as a means of self-defense while they explored the crater area, and describes Markoth as having done so in order to “[brave] the edges of this world, hoping to uncover a truth long forgotten”. It sounds to me like Markoth was trying to recover parts of moth culture that were lost when their tribe was assimilated into Hallownest, or maybe even searching for Radiance or trying to learn what happened to her. (Judging that his corpse is hidden behind one of the Pale King’s shade gates it seems this didn’t go well. Thanks TPK.)

As far as fighting moths go there’s Marmu too, but she seems to be a special case, possibly raised in Hallownest's culture instead of with her tribe. We don’t actually get any sort of canon explanation for how a baby moth wound up as a child soldier who died defending the Queen’s Gardens, but given the overall tone of Hollow Knight as a game and all the colonization/Australian history parallel subtext, some horrifying possibilities come to mind.

So, if Thistlewind, Markoth, and Marmu are Outliers Lepidoptera and should not be counted, how did the majority of moths spend their time? According to Seer, who knows more about the tribe’s history than most (and to Quirrel, who points you to her if you defeat Uumuu before picking up the Dream Nail), the moths’ main prerogative was cultivating and developing dream magic. From the way the Seer describes dreams as a living history as you collect Essence, dream magic seems to be a parallel to the Dreaming (or Dreamtime), a spiritual concept in Indigenous Australian religion related to both history and myth.

To translate this into simple terms, the moths were by and large pacifists whose culture celebrated art, history, and spirituality.

Team Cherry tends to adapt at least some aspects of real-life bug behavior and biology into their sad cartoon bugs, so moths-as-pacifists tracks: Real moths do not really have any way to fight. They defend themselves from predators via their mobility and their markings, which tend towards either camouflage that helps them hide or bright markings intended to scare predators off by indicating they’re poisonous (therefore not good to eat) or look like the face of something much bigger and more dangerous than they are.

There's not that much we can glean about the moths in pre-Hallownest society aside from Seer’s dialogue, because Hallownest destroyed their civilization so thoroughly: Except in the Dream Realm (which is filled with Essence spirographs and the wisteria charms that decorate Seer’s room), their architecture can only be found anymore in hidden parts of the Resting Grounds and at the very top of the Crystal Peak where Radi’s statue and a fuckton of lore tablets Ghost doesn’t know how to read are located.

But, we know that the crater pre-Hallownest was home to a ton of diverse bug nations - the mosskin, the mushroom tribe, the mantises, Deepnest, the Hive, the flukes - and every SINGLE one of those had some kind of warrior tradition, as well as their own unique cultures. In the midst of all that it was only the moths who were pacifists, so from there we can tentatively assume that they were on good enough terms with their neighbors for there not to be any fighting. The mosskin in particular also had and still have a Higher Being on their side, though in the modern day Unn seems to be rather conflict avoidant to say the least.

And we know from Hallownest’s past dealings with the mantises and Deepnest that even having Two (2) Higher Beings isn’t enough to keep rival civilizations off your nuts if they hate you, so it’s improbable that Radiance just did all the moths’ fighting for them.

The only hint that the moths ever had beef with anyone at all is one of Radiance’s Dream Nail lines, “ancient enemy” - this is popularly theorized to refer to the Void and might be corroborated by the Void’s willingness to follow Ghost into Radi’s boss fights and fight alongside them. As the Void seems to be some sort of Higher Being/god of darkness and nothingness, and the Dream Nail’s only offensive ability is to kill Void creatures, the Void and creatures of Light appear to be in a position of mutual vulnerability. Some of the Pale King’s writings in his workshop, which identify the Void as a power in direct opposition to his, support this too.

It’s unclear whether the Void civilization and Radiance ever directly came to blows or whether they were just giving each other the stink eye over being natural enemies - personally I think the latter is more likely because the two civilizations existed on opposite sides of the crater*, and again, the moths were pacifists; plus when Ghost brings the Void along to Radi’s boss fight she is quickly and gruesomely overwhelmed by it.

What I am saying here is that if pacifism was such an integral aspect of moth culture, and Radiance epitomized her people’s culture, and she is 100% incapable of inflicting physical harm, she was probably a pacifist too.

DEEP DOWN YOU KNOW YOU WEREN'T BUILT FOR FIGHTING

Hallownest flourished for a long, long time between the Pale King and White Lady first establishing it and the initial outbreak of the Infection.

There’s no conclusive information in-game as to why this is. We can only guess: Maybe Radiance was so badly hurt or weakened by the moths’ assimilation that it simply took her That Long to become capable of the mass dream broadcast to Literally Everyone In Hallownest that would eventually become the Infection when Hallownest’s people tried to suppress it. Or, maybe it just took a long time for her to come up with a way to fight back. It’s possible that it took her a while to find the resolve to actually fight back, too, with her principles of pacifism in conflict with the necessity of defending herself and taking her people back. Maybe there was a change in the moths’ situation in Hallownest somewhere down the line that compelled her to step in - all the moths are super extremely dead at the time Hollow Knight starts, after all. Even Seer is eventually revealed to be a revenant like Ze’mer the Grey Mourner, only lingering in the world to pass on the Dream Nail and tell Radiance’s story. Maybe it was a combination of all those factors. Barring Team Cherry dropping in to explain this bit of Sekret Deep Lore, we are never going to know.

All we DO know for sure is that when we mosey into Hollow’s brain (and/or Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny our way to the top of Hallownest’s Pantheon) and challenge the literal actual sun to a fight, Radi takes the challenge with extreme prejudice and comes in swinging.

Something interesting I noticed while comparing the Radiance boss fights with the Pure Vessel fight is that some of their attacks are vaguely similar. Where warrior-mage characters like Xero and Markoth have physical weapons that they summon and manipulate with magic, Radiance and Pure Vessel both create nails and daggers out of Essence and Soul respectively. Both characters’ magical weapon attacks are similar in nature too: Some are used to create hazards that must be dodged or avoided, and some are fired directly at Ghost in radial patterns.

This begs a very sad chicken-and-egg question. Did Radi and Hollow develop these battle techniques independently of each other, has Hollow in their prime form somehow absorbed similar techniques to Radi through osmosis since they’re currently chained together by the brain... or is Radi mimicking and innovating on these attacks she knows Hollow can do?

All her other attacks seem very obvious for a light-themed character, after all: Beam attacks and blobs of light. A flash of bright light is also how she shakes off the Void the first time it tries to grab her, too, making for a strong argument that that’s the original natural defense she possessed, and that’s what she based most of her attack magic off of.

Making sword’s and knive’s from Essence when most of her people didn’t even handle these sorts of tools even at the height of her power and influence, though... that seems less like something that would come naturally to her. i don’t really know i don’t have a definitive answer or theory for this one it just Seems Possible and it’s fucking me up guys

Even the Infection - which began life as Radiance’s attempt to communicate, let’s remember, before it progressed to “The End Of Eva Disease Will Continue Until Someone Actually Listens To Me” and then finally Radi screaming “FUCK U LET ME OUT, GET THAT NEW SUNNY D BOTTLE THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, HALLOWNEST EAT SHIT” during canon - does not appear to be fatal to living bugs until the tumorous growths grow so large they impede bodily functions, like real cancer. We can observe this phenomenon via a number of NPCs and enemies that are rediscovered as tumorous corpses after the whole Crossroads area becomes infected.

At least to me, all of this points to Radiance being a character to whom violence and causing harm doesn't come naturally, and who has resorted to these methods in desperation.

It actually reminds me a lot of False Knight/Failed Champion. It’s a very common theory among fans that when he stole Hegemol’s armor he killed Hegemol - this is a reasonable thing to believe, since Hegemol is the only one of the Five Great Knights of Hallownest who never appears at all in-game, not even as a corpse like Dryya and Isma. Like Radi, False Knight/Failed Champion is a character who rose up and turned to violence in order to protect his people, despite the maggots not being a belligerent species.

False Knight is one of the game’s first major bosses, sometimes the first boss that players encounter at all. And so Hollow Knight’s story bookends with two separate victims of a predatory system, one who lived within and was cannibalized by it, one outside of it who was deliberately targeted by the Pale King. Neither of them started out as a fighter, but both of them still adopted violence as a tool to protect themselves and their people. Radiance is as doomed as False Knight by the Pale King’s genocide, but just like False Knight, she has no intention of going quietly, and will rage against the dying of the light as only the literal actual sun can.

Cue Deedee Magno Hall voice clip. You all know the one.

*A footnote: There’s no conclusive evidence to tell us whether the Void civilization was contemporaneous with the other pre-Hallownest indigenous bug nations or whether it predated them. Mask Maker has a line suggesting that the Void civilization tried to expand throughout the crater in its heyday and that maybe this was linked to its collapse, but in general the Void lore is just too darn thin to draw firm conclusions - it’s like trying to speculate on the ancient stone age cultures of the Americas that came before pre-settler Indigenous countries when the only sources you can easily access are elementary school level US history textbooks. (To non-Americans: We mostly teach kids propaganda until they hit college-level courses and it sucks so much ass.) This is very realistic worldbuilding, but also please Team Cherry I want to know more about these ancient bugs who apparently got lost in the sauce

#hollow knight #hollow knight spoilers #hollow knight meta #the radiance #hk radiance #essay #long post under cut -#bad and naughty catholics go in the catholic wiggler

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wayward-mikaelson · 3 years

Text

Winter’s Doll--Chapter Four

Word Count: 3709

About: Fury arranges a fake mission for training to see how well Nadia and the team work together.

Characters: Nadia, Bucky, Clint, Fury, Tony, Wanda, Natasha, Steve, Rest of the team

Pairing: None

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Langauge, Train fighting,

A/N: Sorry this took longer.

*This work contains content made for the 18 and up crowd

**Please do not copy and paste my work anywhere. I work too hard on all my stuff. You may, of course, share the link.

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Over the next few weeks, Nadia slowly started to learn the ropes around the compound. No one could get out of Steve’s movies nights. No matter how much someone tried, Steve would somehow have the upper hand. Tony sometimes would stop the movie just to start a movie or order pizza and having it in another part of the compound. To be honest, Nadia would slip away and go back to her room and just have time to herself.

Bucky often found her there. The two of them would talk for a while before he would call it a night. Sometimes during the night, when Nadia would wake up to either get a midnight snack or glass of water, she would hear a door open and spy Bucky in work out gear. Natasha had told her that Bucky suffered from nightmares. Nadia felt sorry for him and wished there as something she could do to help him. Since Bucky has been a good friend and helped her with sparing stances and such in their free time.

The more time Nadia spent with Bucky, the more the awkwardness of being attracted to him faded away. Nadia obviously was still attracted to him and the ways his hands would linger on her waist or shoulders when he would corrects a stance, but it was just getting easier to channel it.

Another thing Nadia learned was that Sam Wilson is very, highly protective of his yogurt. Even if you mistake it for another yogurt on accident, Sam’s face will look like it came out of cartoon. All red and steamy. Nadia sort of found it hilarious since each encounter would either be between Bucky or Tony. A majority of the time it was Tony taking Sam’s yogurt.

Nadia didn’t forget about Tony. She ordered that glitter bomb and it was directly delivered to Tony by Pepper. Nadia wished she could have seen him open it, but seeing him yell around the compound about glitter while it stick to literally every part of his face, Nadia had to hold back her laugh.

By week four, Nadia was fitted for her tactical suit. For as tight as it looked, it was surprisingly flexible with her body movements. Steve then had her and the team do weapons training with their tactical suits on. Training with the suit on and adding weapons and gadgets made by Tony to it was it tricky. Nadia was a very close range fighter so hand guns were somewhat her thing. Knifes on the other hand, she was really good with a knife.

The gadgets that she trained with, she liked them a lot. Natasha recommended little shockers that she said could take out Bucky’s arm temporarily. When Nadia and Bucky trained again, she used exactly that on him and had him pinned down. Hands tied and gaged in seconds.

By week five, Fury called everyone to the conference room.

“I called you all here today, is that we are going to try something new,” Fury looked around the room at everyone. Clint even showed up and looked annoyed at ever. Fury must have given him no choice but to come in. Nadia felt bad for him, given Clint had a wife and kids.

“What’s that?” Steve asked tapping a pen to the table top.

“I put together a fake mission,” Fury slide a file to each of the team. “I coordinated with the FBI director to use their little town of Quantico and some of their top agents in training along with some of our own agents.”

Everyone looked at their files. Nadia saw that it was a simple retrieve hostages and information from computers. But she also knew that if Fury coordinated it, it was going to be hard as hell.

“When do we start?” Clint asked.

“As soon as you guys get your asses in gear and onto a chopper,” Fury leaned over the table. “So I suggest you get suited up pronto.”

Everyone got closed their files and walked out of the room. Fury caught Nadia’s arm. Fury’s grip was firm. “If you fail in any way shape or form, you and the team will not be going on any missions until it’s done right.”

“Oh, sir,” Nadia pulled her arm back and looked at Fury in his dark eye. “You don't have to worry about me playing nice with others. It’s your team that you have to worry about playing nice with me.” Nadia walked out of the conference room.

Once the team was in suits and geared up, they made their way to the Quinjet. Nadia strapped down as tightly as she could when Clint sat down next to her and pulled a few more inches on the straps.

“These straps are just a pain in the ass sometimes,” he said strapping into his seat.

“Thanks,” Nadia said. “How’s the family?” Nadia remembered Clint was one of the few that has a family.

“They’re good,” Clint’s eyes lit up as he started talking about his kids. The way he talked about them, Nadia knew that this man would do just about anything to make sure they were safe. He talked about how to the team his family exists but to the outside world, they don’t. They were like ghosts.

“Everyone all settled?” Natasha’s voice came from the front of the aircraft. “It’s going to be a long hour and a half flight.”

When everyone was settled and strapped in. Natasha cleared the way for take off and soon the team was up in the sky. Steve took charge and began to talk about the fake mission. You were all put in to small groups. Clint, Bucky and Nadia were one team. Steve, Natasha, and Sam were another. Tony by himself and it somewhat made sense to Nadia—Tony didn’t seem like the one to play nice with others. Wanda and Vision in another.

“Fury made your group, Nadia,” Steve looked at you guys. “You’re guys main mission is to secure the information from the hard drives. Engage if you have to and who ever has the flash drive,” Steve tossed a flash drive to Bucky. “If any of your group go down, you leave them. Get that flash drive back to the Quinjet.”

Nadia looked between Clint and Bucky. The three of them all wore the same look. Nadia was the kind of person who never left anyone behind. She felt that Clint and Bucky were the same. The three of them all agree to it, but Nadia knew of one loophole in that whole thing.

“Training weapons, made by Stark, will be provided.” Steve continued. “The guns will hold a paintball that will stun you enough to make you stay down. The retractable knives, they will have the same effect. Any weapons or gadget that isn’t lethal can be used as well. If you get hit in any of the kill zones, you’re out. Hand to hand combat is allowed but you cannot hurt them to the point they need hospitalization. We expect a broken bone or two but nothing else. So no one gets to throw anyone off the buildings or staircases.”

The flight was long and Nadia just stared at her hands as she prepared herself for this mission. Her heart beat a little fast for her comfort. Nadia tried to tell herself that she was okay and that this was just a fake mission. She’d been through nasty missions too. But for some reason she kept going back to that day where she completed her last mission and then a few short hours later her brother was killed. Nadia took a deep breath. She had to focus on the now and not the past.

The Quinjet finally landed.

When the team walked out, they saw the small little fake town around them. It looked so really and so big. But that was to help the agents in training at the academy with the reality of the job. Now, the Avengers were using it to help Nadia see how her team mates and friends worked well together.

“All the coms are on the same channels,” Natasha handed out small ear pieces. “Every thing you say will be heard and recorded.” Nadia took the small ear piece and shoved it onto her ear. She was familiar with coms like this. But it had been a few years since she had something other than earbuds in her ear.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Tony’s cocky tone was heard as they entered a small building. He was sitting in a chair eating a bag of blueberries.

“Some of us don’t have a metal suit that flies faster than our jet,” Nadia spit out. Everyone looked at her. “What,” Nadia shrugged her shoulders. “It’s true.” Clint nodded while Sam and Bucky cracked a smile.

“You two play nice,” Steve ordered both Nadia and Tony.

Steve rolled out a map of the town on a table. Everyone listened as Steve talked easy access to certain buildings and quick accesses. There were three rooms of hostages but that wasn’t Nadia’s mission. Her’s was getting in and out of a small but heavily guarded house.

“Let’s do this,” Clint unleashed his bow. The arrows he was given were fake ones. Once they hit a person they hooked onto the person and mimicked the pain of being hit by one.

Bucky pulled Nadia aside and handed her the flash drive. “You look more responsible to hang on to this.”

“And you’re not?” She teased. Clint noticed the tone change in Nadia’s voice.

“You’re smaller and faster,” Bucky said smiled while looking Nadia up and down. “Clint and I will cover your back. Also there’s a bigger chance that it’ll break with me handling it.”

Clint rose an eyebrow. “Is something going on between you two?”

Nadia and Bucky snapped their heads towards Clint. “What?” They both asked. Clint tilted his head. Was he the only one seeing this or was he finally going crazy? He pushed it off as going crazy cause it made more sense to Clint that he was going crazy. He was running on only a few hours of sleep and no caffeine.

Nadia strapped a few guns down into her holsters, grabbed a couple knives, and pocketed a few gadgets. Next, Nadia took her hair band and quickly braided her hair. She had thick hair and knew that it would both get in the way or caught on something.

The three of them began their way towards the house they needed to get in and out of. Nadia suggested they stay as low profile as possible. Any back alley ways and such to make sure they stay away from any of the fighting that would occur.

Well that plan didn’t last long.

The trio turned a corner and found themselves face to face with a small group of people dressed up in red suits. They tried to backtrack but another small group sandwiched them. With their backs to each other—Bucky had a gun ready, Clint had an arrow already secured on his bow bring, and Nadia had a knife in her hand while a free on was reaching for a smoke bomb in her back pocket.

“Nadie,” Bucky used Nadia’s nick name. “Remember what I said. Small and fast. We got this.”

“About that,” Nadia slowly said taking the pin off the smoke bomb. Nadia dropped the smoke bomb behind her and in three second the three of them were surround by grey smoke.

They made their way towards the open street while fighting whoever got in the way. Once in the open, a red suit tackled Nadia to the ground. With a simple head butt, the red suit rolled off her and prepared to charge her again. But a red glow pulled the red suit back and into the nearest window.

Nadia looked over to see Wanda standing there. “Thanks,” Nadia said and Wanda disappeared out of sight.

Bucky and Clint fought a few more red suits before they were free. Then the trio was back on track. While they jogged towards the house, without any mishaps, they listened to the others in their coms. It seemed like the all the fighting was near the others where the all the hostages were.

“Quick thinking back there,” Clint said. “I’ve been told you’re pretty good.”

“I wouldn’t say pretty good,” Nadia said sheathing the blades in her hands.

“She’s a badass,” Bucky grabbed Nadia’s shoulder gently. “She pretty much kicked all our asses during her initial training.”

Nadia felt her cheek flush pink. She wasn’t used to this kind of recognition. “Let’s focus on the mission,” she said giving the two men a look.

“Yes ma’am,” the both answered.

The trio somewhat made it to the house. They were a few houses down and saw that it looked less than heavily guarded but more of the guards were probably in side. Leaning back on the house, the three came up with a plan.

“Clint you can get them from high ground, Nadie and I will go right through the door,” Bucky said,

“Or we you and I can lure them outside and have Nadia slip inside,” Clint suggested.

“How about we just simply walk up and pretend to offer ourselves up?” Nadia reached into her pocket and pulled out some of those little shockers. “We get close enough and throw these on them. It’ll shock them enough to knock them out. Giving us enough time to get in and out.”

The men agreed to it and pocketed the little shockers and did just that.

They walked up straight up to the house with their hands raised. Over the coms they heard that one group of hostages were safe and secure. Two of the guards drew their guns on the trio.

“Woah,” Nadia said smiling. “We’ve come to give ourselves up.”

“What are you guys doing?” Steve’s voice can be heard in her ear. “This isn’t the time to play games.”

But the trio ignored him.

“Yeah,” Clint said to Nadia’s right. “We’re the smart ones and know when there’s a lost cause.”

“Tony,” Steve’s voice is heard again. “Fly over and check on them.”

“Kind of busy at the moment, Cap,” Tony answered back.

“When you’re done.”

The two guards stared at the trio and then exchanged looks. They spoke something in Spanish. Nadia could only make out a few things. Tie them up. Use as bait. Wipe the drive. Nadia lowered her hands and slowly reached into her pockets. In one easy movement she activated the shockers and tossed them directly on the two mens chests. They shook and fell to the ground.

“I do not want to be shocked by on of those,” Clint said lowering his hands. “Cause I’m sure that one shit his pants.”

“It hurts like a mother fucker,” Bucky chimed in. “She used one on me during training and it took my arm out for like two hours.”

They approached the doors and Bucky kicked the door down. He and Clint went in holding the guns the picked up off the ground. They gave the all clear and Nadia walked in. There were three men who looked up from their phones. They got up and drew their weapons. Bucky and Clint shot them down before anything can be done.

“Looks like the computer is upstairs,” Nadia notices cords running up the staircase.

“I got you,” Bucky said.

“I’ll down here,” Clint called after the two who were already going up the stairs.

Once at the top of the stairs, Bucky and Nadia took down the four men and one woman who tackled them. Once they were done, Bucky was uninjured while Nadia wiped blood from her nose. She had been head butted by the woman before she was able to shoot her point blank in the chest.

“You okay?” Bucky asked

“Yeah,” Nadia responded as she pulled herself up to the computers. “Shit.” She said when she saw that they started to delete files. She tried to stop it as best as she could but nothing she tired worked.

“What?” Bucky asked leaning next to her.

“Tony,” Nadia ignored Bucky. “Walk me though hacking and stoping these files from being deleted.”

“What’s in it for me?” Tony asked. The cockiness just rolling out of his mouth.

Nadia huffed. “You can call me Alexis for the rest of this mission.”

“I thought that was your dead brother’s name or something,” Tony countered.

“I lied okay, his real name was Nikola, sorry,” Nadia continued to try and retry her options that came to mind. “Now will you help me? I’m losing files here and it’ll be your fault that we fail.”

“Deal.”

In no time, Tony was on the second floor balcony. He walked in and out of his suit. “What do we have?” Nadia stepped aside and watched Tony type away at the computer. He held his hand out and Nadia handed him the flash drive.

“Um, guys,” Clints voice called from the first floor. “We got a military hummer headed out way.”

“You also have a group headed your way too.” Natasha said. “How much time do you need?”

“Just a few minutes,” Tony responded. “Hey, Manchurian Candidate, go help Legolas down there.” Bucky didn’t move as he stared down at Tony. “I got this, and I’ll make sure Alexis is perfectly safe.”

“Go, Bucky,” Nadia said ad Bucky reluctantly made his way down the stairs.

Nadia pulled a gun out and stood with her back to Tony. Nadia started to have some flash backs of the night her brother died in the that explosion. She knew she had to kick the memory out of her head but she kept seeing herself up in that room. Peeking through the window. Standing between the door and her brother with a loaded gun. Then when things had quieted down, the explosion happened.

“Aha!” Tony’s cheer snapped Nadia back. “Got it all back and onto the flash drive.” Tony got up and handed the drive back to Nadia. “I’ll give you a ride back to the jet so you can secure it.”

“What?” Nadia asked.

Then something crashed downstairs. Yelling and shooting started. Nadia went to race down stairs but Tony caught her arm. “Remember you need to secure this thing.”

“What about Bucky? Clint?”

“I got their back,” Tony walked Nadia to the Iron Man suit. “Get in.”

“What?” Nadia looked between Tony and the now open suit in front of her. “But I can’t control that thing.”

“It has auto pilot,” Tony pushed Nadia into the suit and suddenly felt claustrophobic. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Get her back to the jet and get back here.”

“Yes, boss,” the female computer voice started Nadia. Soon the suit was in the air. Nadia felt everything in her body shift about with ever twist and turn the suit made. Nadia hated every second of it. “Here we are Miss Alekiev,” the AI said.

“Thanks,” Nadia getting out of suit. Soon, the suit was out of sight.

“Nadia,” Natasha’s voice was behind her. Nadia turned to see her voice. “Give me the drive. I’ll secure it.”

Nadia tilted her head. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Steve and the rest of your group?” she asked.

“I told them I would meet you here,” Natasha took a step forward and held out her hand. Her posture made Nadia cautious of her intentions.

“No,” Nadia said drawing her gun. “I was told to secure it myself.”

“You can trust me,” Natasha smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile and that’s when Nadia noticed it. Natasha was hold one of the electric bows. It was powered in and Nadia could see hear the hum of electricity coming off it. “Now put the gun down.”

Nadia slightly lowered the gun and shot at Natasha’s leg. The red paint from the paintball splattered everywhere. Natasha cried out and hit the floor.

“Son of bitch that hurts,” she moaned.

Nadia thought quickly and opened one of the lock boxes and stuffed the flash drive in there. Before Nadia could shut it and lock it in place, Natasha smacked her with her bow. Nadia fell to the group with a groan.

“Guys,” Nadia groaned. “Nat’s been compromised.”

“On our way towards you,” Clint said.

Natasha bent down and with a painful grimace on her face, she picked up the lock box and stood up. Nadia felt for her blade and once it was in hand she jumped to her feet and threw it at Natasha. The blade, obviously retracted and hooked onto Natasha’s tact suit in the middle of her back. Without a sound, the lock box fell to the ground and so did Natasha. The pain very much visible on her face. Nadia took the lock box and put it back where she got it from and safely secured it.

“Sorry Nat,” Nadia knelt next to her friend. “You gave me no choice.”

“I would have done the same thing,” Natasha groaned.

The mission ended shortly after that. Natasha was ‘taken’ in for questioning while the rest of the team was ‘debriefed.’ That was going out for lunch courtesy of Tony. Everyone was congratulated with a nice round of whiskey.

When everyone was back at the jet and strapped in for the ride, Bucky came and st next to Nadia. “You did good today,” he strapped in and smiled at her. “You’ll have to tell me more about you training.”

“Another day,” Nadia rested her head back. Natasha hit her pretty hard. “I’m beat and need sleep and maybe a hot bath.”

Back at the compound, Nadia locked herself in her room and started herself a nice warm bath. Lowering herself into the warm water, Nadia closed her eyes and instead of seeing blackness and letting the lavender smell take over, she saw fire and debris. Eyes, snapping open, Nadia gasped for air. Why couldn’t she get her brother’s death out of her head? But Nadia knew exactly why. She knew there was something fishy about her brother’s death. Something the government didn’t want her to know.

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klaussicarus · 4 years

Text

Day Seventeen: Childhood

"God, cursed Matroshka dolls, never thought that'd be a thing." Maddy sighed as she looked at the Motroshka doll in her hand. It was well made, and even had reall hair on it, problem was that it was her hair, and it was a perfect replica of her. Jack and Vlad had replicas too. Vlad had thrown a fit when he had noticed the tiny acne on it, but they were generally wary of it. Vlad's weird maybe-uncle-mentor-evil-archnemisis Daniel had given it to them. Apparently Clockwork needed a messenger. And after the whole CAT's timeline, with seeing Vladimir wreck the human world, they could bet that it related to some sort of failed timeline.

"Well staring at it isn't going to do anything. We'll have to open them sooner or later, and who knows if it's a treat?" Jack sighs as Maddy shoots him a look. "I'm just saying, no use in waiting for something to happen."

Vlad sighs, "Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, Maddy, do you want to go first?" Maddy sighs and twists open the body. Inside there was a teal colored something, with little orange goggles. A painted on red smile glints up at her. "Well that's not very informativ-"

A crackling image projects from the center of the smaller doll. It's an older Maddy, dressed up in a teal hazmat suit and grinning, a gun set on her hip. "Oh ew, that's just bad fashion. Why would I wear that?"

Vlad nudges Jack. "I don't know, but maybe opening all three will let us know?" Jack gets the memo and pops his open. The doll looks larger than Maddy's, orange instead of teal though. The projection shows a wall of a man in an orange jumpsuit and graying temples, he was grinning, but his seemed less malicious than Maddy's. Both of them started flickering, closer to unlocking the scene. Vlad opens his. It's pale and has completely white hairs, frowning and suited. The first thing that pops out of Vlad's mouth is "Why am I white?" Jack chuckles. But his doll wasn't projecting.

Jack leans over his shoulder. "There's another little seam in your doll. Maybe for your ghost form V-man?" Vlad looks down. "Oh" Popping that open is a white clothed ghost with green skin and black hair spiked into horns. Almost immediately it pops up another image. This one of Vlad in ghost form, decidedly with more Daniel energy than they liked. But the scene still seemed glitchy. They were missing something.

"You are missing something" Giving the trio a collective heart attack, Daniel steps in front of them in Ghost form. His solid green eyes staring at them judgingly.

He opened his hands, there was two versions just like Vlad. But instead they seemed like younger versions of himself? The ghost one looked much more monochromatic and very little green. The young one had solid black hair instead of his normal salt and pepper gray hair and scruffy goatee. Immediately it linked, showing a Daniel around their age as a ghost. The scene starts up.

"Would you look at the state of the town! It's in ruins! And all because of pesky little Phantom." Not Vlad hisses at Not Daniel. He rakes his red eyes over the landscape. Not Maddy scowls at him, but nods, N.Jack doing the same thing. "I dont like you Plasmius, but, you've offered me and Mads the opportunity to finally catch this pest once and for all." N.Maddy jerkily agrees, "Yes, we've been meaning to finally strap the malfunctive ghost down and dissect his every cell for a while now, I guess teaming up with disgusting trash is necessary after all."

N.Daniel, or rather Phantom, takes a step back. "Hey, we're probably going to not do that. I prefer all my organs inside me, thank you very much." He trips and and there's a call off scene. Phantom's eyes widen. "Guys no! Stay back!"

Another trio makes it onscreen. Weirdly enough it looks like younger versions of the school counselor, Miss Jazz, and Vlad's parents, Mr. Tucker And Mrs. Sam. They run over to Phantom. N.Maddy looks surprised. Miss Jazz shouts at the adults. "Stop! Can't you see that Phantom has been trying to prevent the damages? You're only making it worse Mom!"

Real Maddy gasps, "I'm mom to our school counselor?" Everyone looks back at the scene.

"No! Can't you see? Can't you realize that you're too young to understand? I love you Jazz, I have to, you're my daughter after all. But you have forgotten that me and your mother know what's best!" N.Jack yells back

More looks are exchanged between the the real trio. Maddy and Jack were together and the school counselor was their kid? The situation onscreen was worsening.

Mr. Tucker and Ms. Sam seemed to be pulling Phantom away discreetly. Phantom was bleeding green ectoplasm too fast to be healthy. Dubbed Plasmius teleported to in front of them. Ms. Samantha screamed at him "Why are you doing this! He's a kid! You know what will happen if they get ahold of him as he is now! They can't know yet! They'll go after you next!"

Everyone gulped, it was terrifying to see the raw terror at the thought of Not Maddy and Jack getting Phantom, why were they so violent towards the ghosts? Why were they trying to murder and dissect Phantom? Why was Vlad evil?

Plasmius seems to barely pause, a glint of fear in his eyes too. "Well, I've seen the error of my ways Samantha. I can't be so close to a ghost hunter, even if I were to marry Maddy, she would find out sooner or later, and nothing would stop her from ripping me to shreds. You, Tucker, and Danny know how much his mother is passionate about this sort of thing. And every plot I've tried to kill Jack with for making me this way has failed spectacularly. After all he is just a bumbling fool of a moron, not worth my time."

Jack winces. He knows that it isn't his Vlad saying it, but it hurt all the same. He was always afraid of being the annoying third wheel, and it hurt to have anything come close to confirming that.

Plasmius continues. "And well, I'm dearly sorry for your budding romance, but what better way to tear the family that's been a thorn in my side for years apart than have those two rip apart their own son in front of an adoring public?"

Well that was another wrench. "Your weird uncle is our son!?" Maddy looked overwhelmed, and looking around so did everyone else. Daniel seemed strangely unsurprised but still shocked, like he had come to make connections beforehand but that were still not enough to cover close to even half of what they had seen on screen. Maybe he had. Maybe he hadn't.

Jack was out of his depth and looked ready to cry and scream at the same time, and Vlad watched with a look of hatred for the cowardly version of himself before confusedly remapping this reality to his in a dogged attempt to figure out why Clockwork was showing them this.

Oddly enough, yesterday had a similar but vastly different event that had happened too. But Vlad's parents had just wanted to kill his alter ego off, no research based off of it, and Daniel had tagged along to generally cause problems for both sides, tripping Ellie in the same breath as flicking one of Ms. Samantha's attacks off course in a weird balance of making sure Vlad didn't die but also wasn't getting along too 'easy'.

The scene projecting in front of them died out after Phantom escaped and Plasmius turns sides, damaging a lot of hunting equipment and smashing a soup thermos before turning invisible and flying off.

And they all look up as another scene replaces it. The same room they were in, the boiler under the school. With their role replacements in the same positions, looking at them in surprise and wariness. Phantom, now as a human, nudges younger Mr. Foley at the same time Vlad nudges Jack beside them. The projection was no longer a screen, but a direct mirror. Maddy gasps, and her and teenager Ms. Manson says at the same time. "It's literally them, there's a bridge, Clockwork just opened a bridge."

They split from the same actions when Plasmius, also in human form, steps forward and holds his hand out to Daniel, "Well, I suppose you're the closest to another adult here." Daniel shifts into his normal self, dusting off his travel worn clothes, and spits onto his palm, slapping his hand to his. "And you'd be the closest to a man your world has to offer huh?"

Young Danny snorts, and the other trio starts laughing, before Jack catches the giggles and suddenly all of the teenagers are on the floor, laughing at the absolute absurdity of it all.

The two men sneer at each other, Plasmius pulls his hand away in disgust,

"What're you? An uncivilized mutt?"

"Oh, don't worry I'm house trained. More than I can see from you Cuckoo."

"I see the 'crazy' nickname theme has stayed the same" Plasmius sighs.

"I was referring to you being a cuc-"

"I prefer being called a dog than a little badger if you want my honest opinion!" Young Danny pipes up, ready to stop his older self from finishing his sentence.

Daniel smirks at Plasmius. Already there was animosity breeding.

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veterveter · 3 years

Text

YO MANU THIS FINALLY CAME THROUGH I'LL LIKE READ AND DO COMMENTARY AND EDIT THIS LATER BUT I WANTED TO POST IT WHILE I HAD IT!!!!

Bless, tumblr finally working for you.

Anyway, here's the post from @delirious-and-slightly-murderous

So seeing as Tumblr hates me, I'm trying this darling, hope it reaches you.

So just read rat king.

[You should all totally read rat king if you haven't yet, it's fun I promise :) But also read Manu's commentary on it!!]

Tuuli I hope you know I love you and completely adore you and I am in awe of you but right now I HATE YOU.

You broke me AGAIN. And I was just mending myself.

This was great and beautiful and fantastic and completely awful and the worst thing I've ever seen in my life.

I'm crying.

So now I'm going to make a habit of coming to scream at you on tumblr every time you post something.

You already know how I feel about your characterization and Andrés' POV and the angst. So there, it applies here too.

Here we go you awful and magnificent goddess.

“Martín,” Sergio clarified, moving up his glasses, the prescription of which was much too weak for his continuously worsening eyesight, “I think you should stop sleeping with him: Yes, Segio and his judgement. That couldn't not be there. But Andrés and Martín are sleeping together? I know this is going to hurt.

Martín was a constant in his life, something carried over from before. Martín? Martín wasn’t a problem; Martín was the only one thing that was good: at least here he appreciates him. Thank god.

Before, he would have found some entirely healthier way of loving his soulmate. Maybe they would have even had an old-world relationship, eventually. Andrés felt like he might have liked that, once. He knew Martín would have loved it: 😭 I want this for them and it hurts that it's simply not going to happen. I'm afraid of the MCD tag, Tuuliiiiiiiiiiii! Who did you kill, you murderous genius?

Andrés needed Martín, desperately. Too desperately to love him the way he should have: I'm going to die. He could at least try but nooooo, god forbid the day Andrés de Fonollosa makes things simple for anyone.

Andrés could see the way orgasms had loosened some of the tensions that so often gripped his body, and he hoped Sergio could too.😏

If Andrés had to choose only one, he would have certainly chosen— : repressed asshole. I hope that was going to end with the word Martín. Why are you even getting married? What's even the point. But I see Andrés will continue to be emotionally stunted even when the world is ending.

Martín and Sergio had gotten along well, before. Andrés could remember so many pleasant evenings, just the three of them and a bottle of wine. But ever since they had to move to this base, the tensions had been palpable. They were both desperately trying to keep them alive, but were constantly disagreeing on the how: I'm starting to like Sergio more than Andrés here, how is that possible? How? See what you do Tuuli?

He turned around at the doorway and left the room, because he had no doubts about it: they would listen to him: Andresito, you are being too egocentric, this is not going to end well, for anyone.

Andrés understood just enough to know he was proud.: I don't know how to feel about this Andrés. I can't.

Andrés always tried not to take the slights of this brave new world personally – it was cruel, but they all had to endure loss of unspeakable magnitude – but this? Having to choose between his Martín and his brother?: Oh no, Oh no, NO. This isn't fair. Why do I get the terrible feeling we already know who he's going to choose? Please DON'T do this.

Andrés knew with unwavering certainty that either one of them would be willing to do it, and that they would consider it a great big favour to Andrés, and not the horrifying curse it truly was. He was the one who would have to pay the ultimate price, and live, knowing how much it had cost: Everything always has to be about you, doesn't it Andrés. You fucking deserve it.

Andrés could appreciate such a malleable room, because it reminded him of Martín, who always became what Andrés needed him to be.😡😭💔

Martín had never cared about plants, before. Actually, he seemed to have held a certain disdain for them. He had always said they were stupid and lifeless. Now he was looking at these ones, their lifeline, and he was filled with reverence and sorrow. If Andrés could have given him one thing, he would have liked to return to him his complete disregard for flora, and all the things it had since then come to imply: This hurts, and not only for obvious reasons. But nature? Fuck right in the feels.

Martín was entirely too pretty to look like this. They hadn’t even been having sex, because suddenly Martín looked like his eternally calcium-deficient bones might now break from the strain. Pretty Martín yeah! And you are a genius. Now this is my official headcanon as to why Martín drinks milk, he has fragile bones, the poor baby.

The weird walking corpse at the table smiled, and it almost made him resemble Martín.: He's already halfway dead. The MCD tag is him isn't it? I hate you Tuuli.

Andrés had to remind himself that he was lucky to have this. He may have had so many better things, before, but now he had this, and that was good. They had it better than most, him and Martín, for they had each other. Andrés still had his brother, and now he would have his wife, too. He was lucky: Not for long, buddy. And you deserve it. Poor Sergio I normally hate him but gosh.

“No,” Andrés said without waiting for a single beat, because he couldn’t let Sergio think he considered it. Even though he almost— “No, I don’t. I want you two, both of you, to figure out a way. A different way.”: He loves them both and he accepts it? Why does the world have to be ending.

Andrés tried not to think too much about Martín from before, but sometimes he did anyway. That night, as he wrapped his arms around Martín’s pathetic, weak and shivering frame, he thought about his true soulmate, the one this body had once belonged to.: Now I understand Martín sacrificing himself is the only way. He's already dead. And because of Andrés no less. How tragic.

Andrés had never said it back.

That night, he didn’t say it back.: Now Martín is going to die and it'll be horrible isn't it? Tuuli I want to murder you.

I’m so sorry, Andrés,” Sergio said quietly, slowly reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder.

Andrés recoiled from it, sharply. “No,” he snapped, “No. We are all going to die. Say those words, Sergio. We are all going to die.” He had made his peace with death long ago. There were worse things, many things so much more horrifying—

“We are not all going to die,” Sergio said, “The generator—” His words were cut off by Andrés’s hand on his throat, squeezing.: You are the king of denial, bad decision, being stupid, emotionaly stunned and not appreciating your soulmate enough Andrés. You deserve all the pain.

“He doesn’t deserve that,” Andrés said, his voice breaking again as he thought of it, Martín’s body, his corpse, frozen and preserved like that for as long as they would live. Martín, out there, while Andrés was in here, unable to ever go and give him even a proper burial. He had always been able to give Martín so little, and in death he would fail him yet again: I really have no words for this. But Martín being forever preserved out there and Andrés knowing that and not being able to mourn him. That is genius and it hurts and it's the perfect ending for them.

Andrés had never told him. Not once. How could he be certain that Martín had known? How could he insist that Martín, the brightest of them all, had known, when Andrés had never told him? Martín operated in words – how could Andrés have forced him to read his love in a language he didn’t even speak?: Now you confront your feelings too late, like always you repressed asshole. You deserve all the pain.

God, he wished Martín hadn’t been so bright. That he had been an idiot, dim-witted and slow like the rest of them.

Then the two of them would have let all of humanity perish.: You already murdered me with 'stay a while' and now this. Tuuli I'm coming back as a vengeful ghost and haunting your perfect ass.

So yeah, I don't have words but that's what I could spit out.

And Tuuli, you know the thing I showed you about the spider? Well when I finished reading this I was crying and wailing. My professor came running because he thought it was another spider or something even worse like a serpent.

When he asked what was going on I was in such a state I could only say 'rat' like a dumbass.

RAT.

Like seriously? And when he asked again I said Rat king fic and pointed vaguely to my phone.

He thought I was talking about an actual rat.

So imagine this. We are there, at night (in Costa Rica nightfall is around 6:00pm all year round, so now it's 9:00pm and here in the tropical rainforest it gets Dark), camping in the middle of nowhere in the wild with a tropical storm falling over our heads and I start crying about Rats.

Congratulations Tuuli, you put me in such a state that I managed to send the whole of 9 biologists into a frenzy, frantically checking out the tents over an imaginary giant rat.

It was literally terror in the jungle.

I wanted the earth to shallow me. I didn't know how to explain that all that circus was because of a fucking fic.

I think now I no longer have satelital internet rights.

I hate you.

(P.S: But don't worry I still absolutely adore you, even if now I am the laughing stock of my fellows 🥰😘♥️)

Here have my friend the spider to show how I'm feeling.

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al-pomegranate-seeds · 3 years

Text

Ashes On Your Eyes

“When Virgil fails to pay rent for the third month in a row, he has nothing else to do except ask for help. That goes better than he expected, except now he has to deal with the fact that their feeling are doing all they can to come out to the surface.“

Pairings: Romantic LAMP, romantic Roman/Logan/Patton, endgame romantic DLAMP.

Genre: Urban Fantasy.

Tags: Fluff, getting together, Logan and Virigl are non-binary, Roman and Patton are both trans men, fae Logan Sanders, half-elf Roman Sanders, dragon Virgil Sanders, polyamory.

Characters: Roman Sanders(Castle), Logan Sanders(Croft), Patton Sanders(Morales), Virgil Sanders.

Eigth installment on my Unicia series, and direct sequel to Lilac Leaves.

AO3

Roman huffed as he looked at his shoes. For years, they have served him, but finally they succumbed to the hours dancing and running and whatever the hell he did at the theater that made the soles detach. He could only grumble at himself as he was reminded of how many times Logan had said he should apply some durability spells to it, but had he listened? He had, actually, it’s just that he immediately forgot about it like ten minutes later.

He set the shoes down as he saw Virgil walk towards him, looking vaguely sympathetic as well as amused.

“So, bad shoes?” Virgil asked, not making any effort to hide that little smirk that never failed to make Roman want to – do things. That he probably shouldn’t think about right now.

Roman huffed before saying, “Great shoes, actually, it’s just that they’ve been great for years and finally gave up.”

Virgil laughed lightly before sitting on Roman’s side and laying their head down on Roman’s shoulder. Roman was used to it, but surely enough, his heart did not miss the chance to start hammering in his chest. He was also used to that, it was nearing spring and their friendship had only grown, along with Roman’s feelings which didn’t seem to have any plan of going away any time soon, but he was okay with that, liking Virgil was a very nice feeling.

“Well, that’s what exercise will do to you.” Virgil said, and Roman snickered while moving so he could put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders and hold them against his chest. They only relaxed further, and if they noticed Roman’s rushing heartbeat, they didn’t say anything.

He heard Virgil’s stomach grumbling before he groaned, saying, “We should really eat something after.”

“We could go eat in my apartment.” Roman said, impulsively, and he could feel his face go red as Virgil looks at him. “I mean, you haven’t been to our new place yet, and it would be a pain to go to a diner with my fucked up shoe, and I’m sure Patton and Logan would like to see you – “

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked, worrying his lower lip between his teeth (Roman was almost overcome with the desire to grab their face and take up the job – shhhhhh fuck off), “I mean, you know I don’t like to intrude – “

“They literally love you, Virgil, I find it would be very hard for you to intrude.” Roman said, finally, and Virgil snorted.

“So you keep saying.” And after some moments of thinking, they finally said, “Yeah, alright, I miss Pat’s food anyway.”

“There you go.” He said, messing up their hair, making them weakly bat at his hands, and finally Larry called everyone for their activities.

Virgil got up, dusting himself off before turning to Roman and saying, “Come on, pretty boy, human mirror time.”

And thank the ghosts he turned and walked towards the group immediately after, because Roman found himself rooted to his spot for a few moments, face and heart both warm.

. . . . . . .

Roman opened the apartment door, and immediately yelled out, “Honeys, I’m home! And I brought Virgil!”

He knew he had set fire to the figurative gunpowder line. It wasn’t secret to any of the three (and frankly it probably wasn’t a secret to their close friends either) that they were all in love with Virgil. And could you blame them? Virgil was snarky, funny, strong willed, and absolutely adorable, with their face markings and their passionate rants about the last horror movie he watched.

(He was also absolutely beautiful and – well. The three of them had a lot of trouble with wanting to kiss Virgil every ten minutes.)

“Oh!” He heard Patton say, and finally he and Logan appeared on the top of the stairs of their two-floor apartment. Roman snickered to himself when he realized they were both flushed and disheveled, Patton’s hair half falling off its ponytail and Logan buttoning up his sleep shirt (which had clearly been on the process of being opened). “Virgil!”

He went quickly down the stairs before hugging Virgil tightly. They let out a low “oomph” before hugging Patton back. While they hugged it out, Logan walked towards Roman to give him a peck on the lips, and looking at him, all flushed and pretty – he had to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him breathless because – well. Virgil was there. And they didn’t have his consent. Maybe one day.

Patton finally let go of Virgil and went to kiss Roman on the lips, and though he was sure Virgil didn’t notice, Roman could feel his hands tugging his just the slightest bit, which often meant very fun things for later.

When he finally let of Roman, Patton, with a blinding smile, said “I’m so glad you’re here! Do you want to eat anything?”

“Yeah. We’re both starving.” Virgil said.

Patton’s eyes went wide and he rushed to the kitchen, saying, "Well, we can’t have that now, can we? You both better sit down!” and they all followed behind him, as he grabbed the burgers they had ordered to eat when Roman got home.

They all sat down at the round wooden table, which was decorated with various cutesy stickers and ink stains, and as Patton set the food down, Logan put his feet on top of Roman’s lap, which gave him opportunity for some mini cuddling. They finally started eating, Virgil and Roman attacking the burger as if they hadn’t eaten in days, while Logan and Patton carried the conversation. The four of them, together and talking like this, felt like it’s what should happen every night, except with Virgil joining in on the flirting and teasing.

“Hmm, you know, if this was your nightly routine, I’m pretty sure I would never leave your house.” Virgil said, and Roman watched Logan’s face go shiny in a blush, while Patton looked at him over the rim of his glass of soda.

He put the glass down before saying, “Well, we certainly wouldn’t complain!”

This seemed to stir something up in Virgil’s brain, because he looked down at the table, looking like he was thinking hard about something before letting out a deep breath. “Actually, I wanted to ask you guys something.”

They all sobered up and straightened themselves, while Virgil put their hands on their table before saying, “You know I hate to ask for things, but I’m not gonna be able to pay rent this month, and this will be the third month in a row so – “ They let out a shaky breath before continuing, “I thought about sharing a place with Thomas but he’s already living with Corbin and Sloane and their apartment is pretty small, and I really don’t want to bother you but – “

“You can come live here.” Roman blurted out, and everyone looked at him. He ignored his red face and instead looked at Virgil, who had a scared but hopeful expression on his own face. “I mean, that’s what you were going to ask, right? This apartment’s plenty big, we got two guest rooms, and I’m sure none of us have a problem with this.”

“Right!” Patton finally said. “Of course, honey! You can live here for however long you need to!”

Virgil looked at Logan, who quickly nodded, and sighed, visibly relieved. “Thank you, guys, really I swear I’ll only stay here until I get a better job – “

“Frankly, Virgil, you staying here would hardly be a problem, even if it were to be permanently.” Logan said, and Virgil went bright red, the markings under his eyes turning from black to a light purple that wasn’t quite lilac, but it sure as hell was shiny.

“That – Thanks. I’ll, um, I’ll bring my stuff over next week?” They all nodded, and went back to eating.

When Virgil hugged them goodbye and went home, it only took the time they needed to lock the door before Patton pulled Roman by the shirt and pushed him onto the sofa, quickly climbing into Roman’s lap and kissing the breath out of him.

As Roman felt Logan sitting down by his side and tangle his fingers into his hair, he let out a whimper that was swallowed by Patton’s mouth.

He was sure he wouldn’t come out of this with a lot energy.

. . . . . . .

It’s next week, and they have just moved all of Virgil’s boxes into his new room. Virgil is laying down on the bed, mentally exhausted, some dark arts band playing in the background. All of his records, all of his notebooks, all of his family trinkets, were stashed in big boxes, and while they technically knew it would be better to start unboxing them now(specially before any of the other three did something well-meaning and found something embarrassing), they couldn’t bring themself to get out of bed. Before they could decide on something, someone knocked on the door.

They grumbled out a “Come in”, and Roman’s face appeared. “Hey, we’re going to have dinner now, if you’d like to join us.”

Virgil took a deep breath, before saying, “Yep. I’ll be down soon.”

Roman smiled at him before finally going down the stairs. Virgil just let his head hit the mattress as he repeatedly thought the word “shit”.

Why couldn’t he just be a normal friend? Why did he have to go and fall in love with a guy who didn’t have one, but two partners? And then, of course he fell for the partners too, because that was just his luck.

If mom had been here, they would have laughed before messing up his hair and saying “You feel too much love, little spider. Something like this was bound to happen.”

Oh, how he missed them, the markings under their eyes always either white or bright pink. How he missed the village, and their parents, and the food that never failed to make him feel full and loved.

Virgil decided he should go eat before he started crying.

The next couple of weeks went quickly as Virgil’s mind refused to process the change, and the fact that he was now living with the three men he loved. And honestly, could you blame him for loving them? Surely not. They were all very lovable.

Virgil was in the kitchen with Patton. The two of them were waiting for the cupcakes to bake so they could decorate them, and in the meantime, Patton was rambling on about his plans for Roman’s birthday, talking about the party they were planning to throw on Logan’s parents’ apartment. Apparently, there was going to be peach and strawberry cake, because those were Roman’s favorite fruits, and lots of honey, so they could expect Logan to get drunk at some point.

The oven beeped and Virgil got up quickly so they could open it. Needless to say, but it smelled amazing, vanilla and chocolate were his favorite sweet flavors, and this was literally Patton’s job, so Virgil almost said they should forget the decorating and just eat everything.

But Patton was really excited to make the cupcakes pretty, so Virgil went to grab the tray, except Patton yelped before he could even touch it.

“Virgil! You’re not wearing mitts!” He says, looking like he was going to get up and stop Virgil if they didn’t stop themself.

“Huh? Oh!” They laughed, before saying, “No, it’s okay, Pat! I’m draconic.”

“Oh!” Patton’s eyes go wide, and after Virgil grabs the tray bare handed and sets it on the table, he grabs their hand and examines it. “Oh, you’re right; it’s not even red, is that where your markings come from?”

“Yeah. They’re birthmarks, my mom had theirs on their neck, and when neutral they were white, but they would turn every shade of pink. My scales do that, too, look. “And then they pulled at their shirt collar to show the scales that started at their chest, and were now a glittery, deep shade of violet, just like Virgil’s markings. “They’re usually black, but when I’m content or laughing they go this color.”

“Oh.” Patton let out, and when Virgil looked back at him, his face was slightly red, with a lovely smile that showcased emotions Virgil couldn’t quite name. “Do you want to talk more about this while we decorate?”

“Oh – sure! I can’t believe I haven’t talked about the village to you three –“ and they went on and on about it as the two of them filled the icing bags.

“My particular village was on like, the top of a hill, with lots of forests and rivers. The winter could get real cold, and, you know, scaly, so by that time we would usually just all go into a big break, everyone had premade food they had been cooking and preserving with magic for months.” They grabbed a bit of icing in their fingertip and licked it off before continuing, “The family structure was different too, it was like, you know that saying, takes a village to raise a child? That was basically it. We had our specific families, we call them hoards though, and they were a lot bigger and less defined, my family was my mom, their sister and a lot of people that they loved but weren’t blood related.”

“That’s awesome.” Patton said putting little gummies on top of one of the cupcakes, “I think families would be a lot more fun if the definition was looser.”

“Yeah, definitely.” They went back to decorating the cakes.

. . . . . . .

Virgil was laying down on the couch, his head on Logan’s lap. She was reading a book about potion theory, while he was half-awake and enjoying her hands on his hair. He could feel himself purring, and if he wasn’t so deeply content he would probably be embarrassed, but honestly, who cared about being embarrassed when there was a pretty, glittery fairy playing with your hair?

Logan hums, captivated by something in her book, and Virgil hums back in a question.

“Oh, I was simply just reading about the use of potions in helping trans people transition, and I realized that our household is entirely trans.”

Virgil giggled a bit. Now that Logan had said it, he realized it was a bit true. “Well, technically I’m not trans.”

“Oh?” Logan put down her book, putting her other hand on Virgil’s hair as well, so clearly you couldn’t fault him for melting and closing his eyes again. “Why is that?”

Virgil took a moment to come back to themself (which was harder than people would think, with Logan basically petting them like a cat), before saying, “Well, being trans is, your gender not matching what you were assigned at birth and - “ He was interrupted by a low, pleased grown when Logan lightly scratched his scalp, before, with a red face, saying, “I technically wasn’t assigned anything at birth, that’s not how my village did it, they just use gender neutral pronouns until kids find out what fits better.”

“Interesting.” Logan says, a subtle smirk on her lips. “So you don’t consider yourself trans?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m also definitely not cis, I mean, my experiences line up a lot more with trans people than cis people, you know? Oh, do that again.”

Logan’s smirk grows as she buries his fingers on Virgil’s hair with intent, and as their purring gets louder, she simply says, “You’re adorable.”

. . . . . . .

Virgil was sitting down on the couch, wasting time on his phone, when he heard a voice dramatically belting out something that he vaguely recognized was from a musical. He playfully groaned, setting his phone down just in time for Roman to grab him by the hand and pull him for a dance.

Virgil went with a yelp, and he was helpless to do anything besides let himself be led in a dance that didn’t seem to have a lot of rhythm, but Roman surely made up for it in enthusiasm, spinning Virgil around with ease as if he was made of cotton, and Virgil only managed to giggle and yelp before Roman finally gave him some reprieve and let him go. As he was breathing heavily, Roman continued to sing and dance on his own, before finally trailing off with a bow and an adorably expectant face.

Virgil couldn’t just look at that face and not go along with it, so they just started clapping before saying, “Good news?”

“Marvelous news! I have just been informed that the theater agreed to play one of my favorite musicals and I am ecstatic!” He said, arms up in the air. “Oh, this calls for a celebration! A dine out night with all my loves!”

Virgil winced internally. Of course, it made sense that he would want to go out with his partners before anything.

Roman took out his phone and started typing away happily, “Oh, we’re going to that fancy diner on the other side of town, I’ll text them and tell you the time so you can start getting ready – “

“Me? Why would I need to get ready?”

That apparently startles Roman, for some reason, because he stops typing and puts on this confused expression on his face, “Why – Didn’t I just say we’re going out?”

“Yeah, you said you’re taking your loves out on a dine out night.” Roman looks confused for a few seconds before his face goes entirely red.

“Oh! Right, I – I did say – I did say that – um.” He sputters, and Virgil has half a mind to laugh at him. “But, well, I do want you to come along, you know, um – “

“Hey, it’s alright, you can go out on your date, you don’t have to include me just to include me.” They say, hoping their smile hides the pain. It’s not – they have the right to go out on dates without including Virgil, it shouldn’t bother him so much. “Really.”

“That’s not – that’s not what this is at all!” Roman chews on his lip for a while, and before Virgil can start saying that they understand, he sighs heavily and says, “Fuck it, here goes nothing.”

He walks up to Virgil, stopping just in front of him to hold his hands, and says, “Virgil, I, I want to include you because – well – we love you.”

A beat passes, and Virgil finally says, “I know that, we’re friends, Patton tells me that all the time – “

“No, that’s not it. I mean – “He lets out a shaky breath, before continuing. “We love you, as in, we are all romantically attracted to you, and we want you to be a part of our relationship.”

Virgil’s ears are ringing. Surely they couldn’t have heard that right? But the longer he stays silent, the more panicked Roman’s expression gets, and finally he starts saying, “This isn’t – we were going to tell you all together, on purpose, it’s just – you’re so beautiful, inside and out, and we just – fell –“

“That’s convenient.” Virgil says, sounding a bit dazed. “Because I – I love you three too.”

They both stay silent for a few more moments, before Virgil starts giggling like a fool in love – which is exactly what he is. Roman follows him shortly, and soon they’re embracing and giggling together while Roman kisses all over Virgil’s face except for where they most want him to. Finally Roman stops his attack and just looks into Virgil’s eyes with an unfairly attractive and adoring smile that Virgil has to look up to, and honestly Virgil will melt if he doesn’t kiss Roman right this moment.

So he asks, “Can – can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.” And Roman lowers his head while Virgil gets on his tiptoes so they can finally, finally, let their lips touch, and oh geese.

Virgil mind explodes a little bit even at just their lips touching, and after Roman starts using tongue, they go weak at the knees and let out some frankly embarrassing sounds. Roman decides to have mercy on them, and walks back until his legs hit the couch, dragging Virgil to sit on his lap, before proceeding to turn Virgil’s thoughts to mush, licking and kissing and grabbing Virgil by the waist with one hand and his hair with the other and frankly, they can’t do a lot more than accept what he’s given(not that that’s a bad thing) and let out little weak whimpers.

At some point he has to breathe though, and Roman, the fiend, doesn’t look nearly as breathless as he feels, but that only bothers him vaguely and for a few moments before Roman says, “Can I kiss your neck?”

Virgil’s brain short circuits and before he can even decide he says a weak “Please”, and Roman dives in for his neck and suddenly, there are lips on his neck and he can’t think or say anything besides Roman and please, over and over and over again.

And then they hear the front door opening, and Patton’s voice, surprised but most definitely not displeased, says, “Well, isn’t this a pretty image.”

Virgil looks at the door, and Logan and Patton are standing there, Patton’s face red and Logan’s face shinier than he’s ever seen it, and Virgil is panting while they close the door and approach.

“So.” Logan starts. “I take it you two had a talk?”

“Yeah.” Roman says. “I told them about – we love them.”

“Well, that’s funny.” Patton says, placing his hand on Roman’s shoulder. “Because I seem to remember we agreed to tell them later. And all together.”

“Yeah, well, this wasn’t exactly planned.” Roman says, almost petulantly. “I just – I said something and had to fix it, so.”

Logan clears his throat before saying, “Well, Virgil, I can see you don’t oppose to having a relationship with Roman, but – “

“All of you. I love all of you.” Virgil interrupts.

Logan’s face goes impossibly softer, and he grabs Virgil’s face with both of his hands, and says, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“You – you should.” Virgil says, and he does.

Logan is different from Roman, softer and sweeter, almost like he’s afraid Virgil’s going to break, and Virgil lets themself get lost in the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his hands and how much they love him –

Logan eventually lets go of him, probably sensing Virgil needs to breath, but he doesn’t remove his hands from Virgil’s before leaving a long peck on their cheek.

Virgil puts his face on the crook of Roman’s neck to take some time to breath, which obviously makes Roman coo and play with his hair to calm him down. He also leaves a few kisses on top of Virgil’s head, which was not at all calming and comforting thank you very much.

When he’s finally breathing right again, he feels a hand on his shoulder, which makes him turn to Patton’s direction and oh, that smile should surely be illegal.

“Do I get anything, honey?” And Virgil is throwing himself at Patton, who simply pulls them to sit sideways on his own lap.

Patton kisses with more intensity than Logan, but he’s more controlled than Roman, almost as if he wants to be in charge of the kiss and make Virgil melt on his tongue and boy oh boy is Virgil okay with that.

He finally lets go, and Virgil tries to follow him with their mouth, but Patton simply grabs his face by the chin and looks into Virgil’s eyes like he’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“Your face is lilac. You’re so pretty.” He says, a little bit breathless, and Virgil has half a mind to start kissing all of them again.

#fluff #getting together #first kiss #first kisses #trans character #trans roman sanders #trans patton sanders #trans logan sanders #non-binary virgil sanders #genderfluid logan sanders #fae logan sanders #half-elf roman sanders #dragon virgil sanders #urban fantasy #polyamory #love confessions #neck kissing

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

Put a ring on it

I’m not sure what this is, everyone. Had it on my docs for a while, got bored during work and thought ‘what if I just post this?’, and here we are. Basically the Core Four being loving and caring (and spiteful).

Shout out to @animemangasoul who pumped me up about this and @the-quiet-carrotcake and @iphoenixrising for letting me cry to them the Titans loving Tim.

Can be read as either ship or friendship

------.------

When shit went down, Wally and Roy made sure they were nowhere near the planet. A nice little interplanetary fuckery called for anyone free, and both of them had magically clean schedules, so off they went, praying to every god they knew about (and, with how many holy disasters they had faced between them, there were a lot) to be back after the worst of the mess had blown over.

Even if it meant missing the undoubtedly hilarious face Batman would make when he found out. Not even the chance of witnessing that was worth staying and waiting with bated breath until someone pointed out that, in the end, it was both their faults.

-So let me get this straight.

-Difficult for me, but go on.

Wally rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at his little dude, wondering how Nightwing could do this with not one, not two, but three badly adjusted little brothers (and that without counting the girls, though, to be honest, they already had Babs). Truly, a hero of the ages. Arsenal just cackled from his place in front of the coffee table, where he was keeping them company and cleaning his equipment.

-I’m serious. I’ve never seen you this mad without a bad guy to blame for it.

-Well…

-As furious as you are at them, Bart, they are still the good guys.

-Debatable.

Wally threw another pillow, and Bart, arms crossed and all but vibrating on the couch, didn’t even bother on dodging. Just moved his particles quick enough that the thing went straight through him.

Arsenal raised an eyebrow at them- It’s scary when you do that. Like a freaking ghost.

-It’s scary that Tim’s whole family can be this level of neglectful, but you don’t see me bitching at them.

-Only because you know they’ll give you your ass back to you in a silver platter after they are done whooping it -interjected the older speedster, snack bag on his lap, a few more by the ground at his feet, sitting as close to Bart as the whole ‘don’t touch, I bite’ aura he had around him would allow.

-Kinky.

This time, Wally’s pillow was aimed at the archer. Roy just dodged without looking, still cross legged on the other side of the little table facing the couch.

-Real talk now, it’s not like they are jerks on purpose. We all know the Bats are on a whole new level of ‘always busy’, it’s to be expected they wouldn’t have time for social niceties.

Wally winced, scooting a little further away from Bart when he looked up to glare at Roy. That wasn’t a nice look. That was a ‘I can take you to someplace no one would hear you scream in less than ten seconds’ look.

-My seventeen year old best friend managed to finish high school after having to take a year off to go look for his missing mentor, going through several different mourning processes and dodging a frankly creepy cradle robber of a ninja terrorist, all while kicking ass and taking names, taking care of a huge as hell company, and keeping up the intel guy work for the rest of his shitty family. And he still graduated early. The least they could do after the fuckery he was put through by their collective stupidity would be go as moral support, but no. No, other things are more important than such a big milestone on his life. Fuckers.

Wound down after the rant, Bart dropped back on the couch, shrinking in place, oozing contempt from every pore.

Roy raised his eyes to share a look with Wally. Even if the bro code meant they were contractually obligated to defend their respective best friends, there was undeniable truth to Bart’s statement. Jason had gone on killing sprees for far less than Tim’s situation, and God knows Dick would have showed a big middle finger at his mentor and go off world with the Titans as a protest at the slightest fight. All in all, Red Robin was taking it like a champ.

-Jason’s busy with the Torinelli drug cartel thingie -tried Roy nonetheless, loyal as one could be.

Wally nodded- And Dick had already promised Damian to go on a camping-training trip that weekend...

-Great. So criminals that aren’t going anywhere and the ‘favorite’ demon child are more important than my best friend’s graduation, which isn’t even a long thing, just a couple hours and a few photos. Awesome. Do you happen to know Batman’s excuse? I mean, I’m sure is equally as shitty as his sons’ excuses, but, you know. Variety and stuff.

Wally sighed, because yeah, point. Were it Bart’s graduation, nothing short of the end of the world would have kept him from going, but, again, he only had one little dude to worry about. Dick’s house was full.

-You’ll be there -tried Roy, dropping his arrow back on the table and resting his crossed arms next to it, leaning forward to look straight at Bart-, you and the rest of the brats, right? Supes and Diana’s babies. You guys may not be related like that, but that’s not necessary for you to be family.

Like the Teen Titans were, went unsaid- the older heroes exchanged a glance, reminiscent of their days fighting side by side under Dick’s unwavering leadership. No matter where they were now, that’s where they both came from.

-Yeah -accepted Bart, but the frown hadn’t left his face-. It’s just. His parents are dead, his ‘foster’ bat-family are dicks. He has us, yeah, but… I wished he could have his family there, you know. Like, if I could adopt him, I would, just so he can have that.

Wally dropped the empty snack bag onto the ground and took a new one, tipping it in Bart’s direction as a peace offering- I mean, it’s still a month away, maybe one of them would clear his schedule and go? Probably not all of them, but anything’s better than nothing, right?

Bart harrumphed, hunching even lower in the couch, pout still present.

-If anything else fails -joked Roy, going back to cleaning his stuff-, I hear Kara’s single right now, and Tim’s an emancipated minor. Get them to marry each other, and then your Super friend is technically his brother- or something like that. Political families still counts.

Bart went still for a second, and if Wally were less invested in his snack and more on the thoughtful expression on his face, he might have known ahead of time that his next words were a bad, bad idea.

-And if she’s not on board, you could always ask someone else on your team. Team as family and all that shit, Tim would literally be marrying into the fam. Want some chips?

But Bart was already gone.

-Huh? -blinked Roy- Where'd he run to?

-...

-...You don't think he…

-What? No. No, of course not, they aren't so dumb...

For a horrible second, Roy and Wally crossed eyes again, both remembering the stupid shit they got up to when they were seventeen, and replayed the conversation. Their jokes, that anyone with half a brain would take as that, as silliness. Then came the thought that being stupid was almost a requirement for being a Titan.

With the kind of synchronicity one could only have after fighting side by side for years, they both jumped to their feet at the same time.

-I’ll hit Kori up, maybe she has some alien fuckery to deal with and we can tag along.

-Imma call Supes and let him know we’ll be off planet for a while. Shit, Dick’s gonna flip. He was the big B for a while, he knows stuff. Painful stuff.

-Dude, he at least doesn’t kill. Jay has guns, and it’s his favorite brother we’re talking about.

A shiver went through them when Batman’s reaction came to mind.

-If Kori’s not dealing with something, I’ll ask her to start shit up somewhere far, far away to give us an excuse to leave either way. She’s a goddess like that, she’ll help.

-Good thinking. I’ll start packing.

---.----

The secret meeting was held at one of Tim’s safe houses, because it had enough lead on the walls there was no risk of Superman overhearing them. Not that the owner of the place was aware of it; no one was, besides Cassie, Kon and Bart themselves. Keeping it hush hush was vital for the success of the mission.

-All on board then?

Kon’s smile could light up a town- Hell yeah dude. I’ll take care of getting Tim time off from work. Tam knows me and I’m fairly sure she doesn’t hate me as strongly as she does the bats. Fair warning though, she might ask to come with.

-She’s cool, so I’m in. We’re gonna need a witness anyway.

Cassie nodded, fierce smirk and challenge in her eyes- This is gonna piss so many people. Hey, do you think if we let Oracle in the know she’ll give us footage of the bats' faces when they find out?

Bart bit his lip- As crash as that would be, I don’t think it’s worth the risk.

Cassie deflated, but then shrugged it off- We’ll ask Tim, then. He’s as good as her with hacking, I’m sure he’ll figure something out.

-If he doesn’t kill us first, you mean.

-Don’t be a coward, Kon. I thought you were in.

-I’m not saying I’m backing down, just that we should put our business in order in case he snaps and murders us in cold blood. I know he has it in him, if pushed the right ways.

She nodded, because point. The almost feral look on her face wasn’t gone, though- Worth it. I'll be in charge of clothes. You reckon there's any chance I can get a dress on him?

-Sure, if you want him to actually break his no kill rule.

-Fine, but he's wearing white anyway. It goes well with his skin tone.

Bart extended his first for her to bump- Now you're talking. I'll be the extraction man and take him to the place.

Kon crossed his arms, looking conflicted for the first time- We can't go the classic way about it, because a fake name would mean he won't take seriously what we're trying to do, and if we use his real one in a formal document, it'll hit the news before the ink has a chance to dry. And then he'll kill us for sure.

-You're awfully worried about him drawing blood, Blue. What gives?

-He's scared shitless of Cassie and you're too adorable to hurt, but me? I'm the one he's gonna focus his rage on, and you know how he gets when at his limit.

Cassie snorts- He can't live without you, you dork. I think we are all safe. And anyways, the plan is to make him too drunk to walk on a straight line, he wouldn't be able to hurt us.

-You say that -interjected Bart, getting up from where he was crouching above their carefully spread, color coded sheets of plans; Tim would be so proud- but I've seen the dude drop kick someone with a broken leg once. He can fuck shit up no matter the situation.

-True… still, we are doing it, right?

-Oh yeah, for sure, I just wanted everyone aware that it might be our last big bang.

-Then we better make sure it's one hell of an explosion, am I right?

-Hell yeah.

-This is gonna be so crash!

----.----

The entire thing had gone something like this.

On friday, Tam made Tim turn around and head back home the second he showed his face at the office, claiming the bags under his eyes clashed terribly with her new Prada handbag and she’d rather had it than him around. In Foxspeak, it meant ‘go the fuck to sleep or so help me God’. Tim would have fought back just on principle, but Tam had him at a standstill, because the spleen thing could very easily reach Alfred’s ears if he crosses her, and no one (him) wants that. As if to make sure he would obey, she demanded they share the car that would take her to the airport (did she have some meeting out of Gotham? He couldn’t remember) and dropped him at his Perch on her way there.

He wasn’t actually planning on sleep, maybe work some of his cases from home, start patrol early, possibly tracking Jason down to offer his help for the drug cartel thing. Confused by the unexpected way his morning had gone so far, he was woefully underprepared for a flash of red and yellow to whisk him from his living room the second he put his carrier bag on the ground.

It was only years from using his team as glorified uber drives what kept him from nerve striking Bart on reflex. Knowing whatever he asked would be lost to the background sound of super fast travelling, he merely slumped over the thin shoulder he was thrown over and waited till they reached their destination.

Which… he wasn’t expecting Vegas.

The next few hours were a blur of his team explaining they had planned this gateaway as an early graduation party, hugs and a few grateful tears on his part, and booze. So much booze. He was trained by Batman, he had a bigger than average resistance to… well, everything, and still, he got so, so wasted.

Saturday’s hungover was cured with more booze. They hit casino after casino, danced over tables, payed a bar owner to close for the night and let them work their way through his entire supply, went to some neon party at someone’s exceedingly large hotel suite (the guy wasn’t getting his deposit back), his cellphone was thrown on a fountain after Cassie got sick of it going off again and again with Dick’s predetermined ringtone, drank some more, were kicked out of yet another casino...

At some point Tam appeared (a very drunk Tim had hugged her and spun her around so fast her stilettos went flying and almost blinded someone), and they all went back to the hotel, where Kon basically manhandled him into a white suit. More booze when Tim started asking questions, followed by a two hour long stay at some park were Cassie, Bart and Kon took turns holding his hand, and then each others’, with Tam saying something about bonds, and family, and sickness, and health in the background, Kon muttering something in kryptonian and making Tim repeat it, Cassie dropping to one knee and sprouting some Amazonian speech, Bart jumping on his back after his own speech (futuristic laws and all) was done, then more booze, partying and….

Well, everything was a blur, before and after that.

They woke up saturday morning with the worst headache, in a undignified puppy pile back at their suit, minus Tam who apparently had her own room. Kon’s TTK took care of the blinds and Tim blinked awake at the sound (Robin instincts), looked at his sleeping friends and then went back to sleep, head pillowed by Bart’s butt, with Cassie’s knee denting his ribs and Kon’s arm thrown over his neck, completely disregarding the three rings hanging from his shiny new necklace.

That was a problem for sober Tim to solve.

---.----

Monday morning, Tim went back to the office, Tam by his side, acting like everything was perfectly fine.

Dick called after lunch asking about his whereabouts that past weekend, claiming he was missed during patrol, but backed down when informed he was actually relaxing with his friends. Bruce didn’t ask, probably had tracked him down the second he couldn’t find him and let him be after realizing he was at Las Vegas.

Everyone that saw them walking down WE’s hallways would have swore a trail of classic music followed them, graceful and elegant.

In Tim’s mind, however, the background sound was the kill bill sirens and blaring red lights.

Tam felt like a queen, coming back after conquering treacherous lands.

Tim felt like Jason may have been onto something when he died.

----.----

When the Big Day (capital letters included) arrived, and Tim got into the stage to accept his diploma (Honor Student, of course), his eyes automatically went to the loud, rowdy teenagers, sitting as close to the front as possible, cheering and smiling.

He was far enough that it could’ve been a trick of the light, but he thought he could see all three of them going misty-eyed. His own eyes watered when he shook the headmaster's hand and posed with his diploma for the cameras (Wayne Heir Graduating would be trending on every magazine by dinnertime), his friends never stopping yelling his name.

When the time came to throw the little hats, he catched by the corner of his eye how Bart held both Cassie’s and Kon’s hands, keeping them from flying in their emotion. If one paid close attention, their feet actually were floating juuust above the ground. They were just so genuinely excited for him, it was… it was amazing.

After as little smalltalk as possible with his classmates, he sneaked away into some hidden spot, away from prying cameras, and waited. Sure enough, his best friends were there barely ten seconds later, and using that same speed, they swept him off his feet. Bart was the first, latching to his front, Kon a close second jumping on his back and hugging his head. Cassie, ever the showoff, threw her hands around the three of them and spun them around as if they weighted nothing to her. That was probably the case.

-You did it, you did it, you did it!!!! Oh my god, this is so crash!!!

-Not that we had any doubt, with that big brain of yours. Making a girl so proud.

-Speak for yourself. Personally, I feared the worst. This is Gotham, after all.

-But nothing happened! And you GRADUATED!

Tim let out a laugh, allowing himself to just feel joy. Letting them see him like that, as payment for being the most awesome friends (family) in existence, he returned the hug, squeezing back as strongly as his non meta arms could.

Then, a voice behind them that he absolutely didn't expect- Congratulations, Master Timothy.

Without letting any of them go, Cassie turned around, so they could all see Alfred Pennyworth, in his Sunday’s best, looking proud and warm, his eyes glazed over with nostalgia when they landed on his young charge. One of the young men he had the honor to watch grow into the amazing person he was today.

Even more surprising, he held a tablet on his arms, screen facing them, with a familiar figure there, white streak and leather but no firearms, probably cautious of possible civilians around.

-Hey, baby bird. Sorry ‘couldn’t be ther’ p’rsonally. Hope ya don’t mind me an’ Alfie crashing like this.

-A-Alfred? Jason? What… I thought you were in Russia!!

The man on the screen scratched the back of his head, visibly uncomfortable but determined.

-Am, actually. But it’s yer big day, babybird. Wouldn’t missit for the world.

Tim’s already watery eyes just overflowed.

-----.----

It took a month for shit to hit the fan. Tim was honestly impressed, because things rarely went his way, and getting more than a few hours to mentally prepare for Disaster? Unheard of. What a shocker.

When it did went down, it was in large part because he was milking the ‘no metas in Gotham’ rule that kept his team at bay and allowed him to go days without sleeping. Kon would say it was karmatic retribution for ignoring their orders to relax and take it easy. He would protest, but really, how to deny the truth; if not for his sleep deprivation, his secret would have gone a lot longer without being unveiled.

Between hacking into Lexcorp, running the dna samples he took during patrol half an hour ago on the database and finishing his report of the night, he was out of fucks to give. Damian bitching on his ear was the last drop.

-...And your mere presence here is an insult to Grayson's legacy. He founded it, Todd died for it, what did you even contribute to it?

A slow blink. Tim was aware his brain to mouth filter was as good as gone, but tired as he was, he just didn't care.

-Besides providing the brains on this whole fucking operation? Pants, I guess. Common sense. Ninja skills commended by your own grandfather, the king of ninjas. Virtue, too, since Dick is a verified hoe and Jason slept with your/

-C'mon Timmy -cut in Dick, Nightwing suit halfway down his chest, when Damian's face was turning an alarming shade of blue- aren't you a little old to be fighting a kid?

-Who are you calling kid?!

Typical, big bro to the rescue. Tim was too tired to be disappointed that once again Dick was siding with an eleven year old bully that kept harassing Tim. Never mind that he had been minding his business before Damian came to bark at him.

-Boys -chided Bruce and, huh, Tim had said that out loud. Whatever, not like it wasn't true. Fuck them.

-Fuck you -he told… Bruce? Dick? Definitely Damian, too- all.

-Tim! -gasped Dick. Still half naked. Standing right by Damian's side.

That kid was going to have a very uncomfortable sexual awakening any day now.

-SHUT UP, DRAKE! YOU ARE DISGUSTING!

Wow he really needed to stop talking out loud.

-Tim -And now Bruce was walking towards them, frown firmly in place- you are obviously too tired, if you can't control what comes out of your mouth. Go to sleep.

Tim hissed at him. Dick looked too shocked to answer but Bruce, somewhat used to that reaction of the sleep deprived teen, loomed even more.

-I'm an emancipated adult. I control your company. I live on my own. You're not the boss of me.

Now even Damian was looking at him open mouthed. Whatever. The computer pinged with his results, just as his phone did with his 'The hubbies and waifus' group chat.

-What's gotten into you, kiddo? -now Dick was worried, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Still half naked, that was an important detail.

Tim shrugged him away.

-Fucking demon spawn coming from nowhere to fuck with me just for the hell of it puts me in a bad mood, I'm weird like that -he deadpaned, replying to the group chat one handed- And the rest of this fucked up team siding with him just because he's a bad word away from a violent psychotic break doesn't help. Fuck off and let me do my shit, and I'll be out of your hair before you know it.

And then, with a sneer, ignoring both Bruce's and Dick's flabbergasted expressions, Damian said what would be Tim's down fall.

-Go to hell, Drake.

A ping made Tim look down at his phone and he replied without thinking, one hand tapping away at the screen- Wait, let me ask my wife.

A beat of silence. One sneer, one grunt, one surprised gasp.

Bruce made a half step towards him- Tim, what/?

A ping.

-She says no. Hang on, let me get you a second opinion, just to be safe.

-Timmy, what do you mean/?

Another one.

-Husband number one says no, too. Husband number two hasn't replied, probably asleep or traveling somewhere, but two already win by majority. It seems it's a ‘no’ on going to hell for me. Bummer, it would have been funny seeing your homeland, brat.

-...

-Aaaaand that’s my cue to interrupt -announced a new voice above them all. Kon, phone at hand, looked down with half amused, half guarded expression-. Someone hasn’t held their end of the deal and slept eight hours, huh, bud?

Tim, ignoring his family that hadn’t yet recovered from the bomb, shrugged- I slept eight hours. This past week. You never said they had to be consecutive hours.

The super just sighed and landed long enough to haul a too tired to resist bird in his arms- I can see you aren’t getting any sleep in Gotham. Let’s go back to the Tower, Cassie wants us to see The Princess Bride with her again.

-Don’t lie to me, you liar.

-Bart wan/

-Look at my face and tell me the truth.

-Okay, I want to see The Princess Bride again -he conceded, taking flight towards the closest exit, sleepy bird cocooned in his arms and TTK- Later, bats!

-...

Finally, Dick snapped back to reality, although the background noise in his head was one would expect in suspense movies right before the assassin jumped a unsuspecting protagonist- ...did he say ‘husbands’? As in, married?

-...

-AS IN MORE THAN ONE?

----.----

#Tim drake #kon el kent #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #tam fox #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #core four #crack wedding

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buffyversefanfiction · 3 years

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The Haunting of Buffy Summers

Warning: I do not own the rights to the television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, its spin-off series Angel, its dark horse comics continuation series, or any of the characters created by Joss Whedon and others in the Buffyverse. 15 years +, Mild to Strong Violence, Sexual References. F/F, F/M, M/M, Other +

PART ONE

It had been months since the passing of Buffy and Angel’s son Tristan and despite the relief over there being no sign of the shadow demon that was released at the time of Tristan’s death there was very little reason to celebrate for Buffy and co this Halloween as Buffy and Angel both mourned their child, Dawn grieved her nephew, Faith a friend, Willow an honoree nephew and Spike an strained ally. Yes, this Halloween nobody had celebration in mind, well almost nobody. “Xander, you absolutely cannot dress up my niece as a pumpkin!” Buffy told her best friend as she and Xander walked through a local cemetery within San Francisco. “With our luck with Halloween you’ll end up turning baby Joyce into an actual pumpkin.” Buffy had always called her niece baby Joyce instead of just Joyce, even though she was a young child now and no longer a baby she could never bring herself to just call her Joyce, perhaps because it was confirmation there was no other Joyce amongst the living anymore or perhaps it just brought up too much pain. Buffy thought about her mother everyday but more so since the death of her son, more than ever she wished for her mother to be there and somehow make everything okay not that she could even if she was still alive but still wishing was better than accepting the harsh reality of what her life had become. “Your niece wants to be a vampire of all things it is literally like she knows what we all get up to when we join her aunt Buffy for late night walks.” Xander admitted to her. “I for one don’t feel like having to stop my five-year-old from biting my neck because Halloween got too real again!” “Somehow I’d still prefer that over my niece potentially becoming somebody’s pumpkin pie despite how delicious pumpkin pie maybe.” Buffy replied to her best friend. “You should come over for Halloween might be nice spending it with family,” Xander suggested. “Especially after everything…” “Nah, maybe next year this year I really do not feel like getting caught up with Halloween.” Buffy responded, making it clear she wanted to be alone. “Do not get me wrong if some wacky stuff starts happening text me but otherwise it is me, my couch and some good old-fashioned movie watching.” Before Xander could reply to Buffy’s rejection of his invitation to spend Halloween with him, Dawn and baby Joyce Buffy stopped walking, becoming frozen within the spot she stood in, forcing Xander to stop walking, clearly concerned for the slayer as the slayer turned to her side to notice her son Tristan’s grave, her eyes going straight towards his tombstone. “I cannot believe I almost walked past it!” Buffy told Xander, the hurt of seeing her son’s grave clearly all over her face. “Burying dust is kind of weird when you think of it, I mean he was technically already supernaturally cremated…but it sure is nice to be able to see him every night…just wish I did not have to wait for his death before I could be this close to him.” “Maybe you should start skipping this cemetery?” Xander suggested as he put his arm around Buffy and side hugged her tightly. “Willow and I could patrol this cemetery, so you do not have to be here all the time.” “Thanks for the offer Xander but I cannot leave him again, I have already left him too many times before.” Buffy replied as tears began forming in her eyes. “Even if he does not know it, I do not ever want him to think I’m gone.”

The very next morning, the morning of all hallows eve certainly proved to live up to it’s spooky legacy for Buffy as she awoke from her bed, climbed out of it, stood up and walked over to her nearby dresser where she sat down in front of the mirror, picked up and brush and began combing her luxurious long blonde hair. “Happy Halloween,” Buffy mumbled to herself as she continued brushing her hair before she suddenly heard the roaring noise of the television coming from the living room of the apartment she shared with Willow. Buffy stood up from her dresser chair, charged towards her bedroom door, opening it with force before running straight into the living room where the deafening noise of the television continued to grow louder as she desperately search for the television remote within the corners and sides of the nearby couch. The noise was not only heard by the slayer as she quickly discovered when Willow rushed out of her room chanting loudly in a long dead language before waving her hand and suddenly the noise was gone. “Hey Buffy love you and everything but the next time you try deafening me in the morning I may have to turn you back into a rat.” Willow joked with her, only to be left shocked by a stunned Buffy who stared blankly towards the television. “Buffy, I was only joking about the rat thing.” Willow glanced over to the television to see what Buffy was staring at only for her to be left shocked to see the television was switched off. “Do not tell me we are haunted again,” Willow complained to Buffy. “Here is hoping it is something you killed this time and not me!” “I think it was Tristan,” Buffy admitted to her redheaded best friend. “I was at his grave last night he is clearly trying to contact me.” “Buffy, you are at his grave every night I doubt he’s decided to make contact for the first time on Halloween.” Willow told her as she began walking towards Buffy. “I’d love it for him to be able to say goodbye to you but you and I both know it’s probably some pissed off spirit or something else.” “Yeah I know,” Buffy sighed as she sat down on the couch. “It is just the shadow demon is out there somewhere whose to say Tristan is not?” “We have been through this before sweetie, Tristan’s at peace and maybe that’s the best place for him to be.” Willow replied as she sat down on the couch, sitting next to Buffy. “I do not think he’s anywhere bad I think he’s finally at peace and I think that is something he wanted for a really long time.” “Your right it is probably just some new Halloween horror that I am going to have to kill or whatever it is that we call getting rid of a ghost...” Buffy responded, trying and failing to sound any less sad than she was. “Or we could call ghostbusters and I can go back to bed?” “There’s a powerful psychic that I tend to go to from time to time when I feel the need to hear something from the other side her name is Madame Majestic and she is really good I’ll go see her and see if it is spirit related before we hit the books for alternatives.” Willow revealed to her best friend, eager to take some responsibility off the struggling slayer. “Here’s me thinking all those mystic megs and Madame magics were all phonies.” Buffy admitted before standing up from the couch. “Drop me her address and I’ll go see what Madame Majestic has to say about haunted televisions.” “I could go for you…you know…in case you get hurt when you realize it is not Tristan.” Willow suggested as she stood up to face her friend. “This seems like more like a case for a witch than a slayer maybe you should just go back to bed and let me handle this.” “I’m fine with going Willow to be honest I would rather stay busy and I think I want to handle this one alone for now…you know until witch assistance is needed.” Buffy told her, reassuring the witch that she would be fine going solo. “Okay…I could go with you though? Maybe even get Xander to tag along like the old days just us three?” Willow offered, worried to leave the slayer alone, knowing how much Buffy had been struggling following the death of her son. “I kind of just want to be alone!” Buffy admitted, feeling guilty for pushing away her friend but needing the time to herself.

Buffy walked down one of the many back alleyways within San Francisco in search of Madame Majestic’s headquarters eager to find out what caused the television annoyance earlier that day, convinced it was the spirit of her late son despite her friend Willow telling her otherwise but not wanting to get her hopes up at the same time in case Willow was right. Buffy stopped at a door painted a bright baby blue before noticing the writing “Come on in, I’m waiting” written on the window next to the door. “Well here goes nothing!” She mumbled to herself as she started knocking on the door only to be met by no answer. She waited at the door longer than she would wait at most doors that people did not answer because she believed her best friend would never steer her wrong and after several minutes the bright blue door suddenly opened by itself, alarming Buffy at first by a tell tale sign off what may await her when she walked into Madame Majestic’s. Although that worry never stopped Buffy as she knew deep down whatever was haunting her this Halloween would find her again one way or another and therefore, she was ready to find it first. “You must be Buffy Summers you have many fans on the other side and even more enemies.” Madame Majestic greeted Buffy, as Buffy walked into a darkly lit room to find Madame Majestic dressed up like a stereotypical gypsy styled psychic, sitting at a table with a clear crystal ball. “You got to be kidding me! This is right out a horror movie well a B horror movie although every horror movie is a B when your life is an A horror.” Buffy complained to the psychic as she walked over to the table and sat down on a seat opposite her. “I am very aware of your chosen destiny Miss Summers just as much as you are aware of a spirit haunting you,” The psychic replied to the slayer. “You are confused by the spirits identity and even more so confused that they have chosen Halloween of all times to contact you but you should not be frustrated with this spirit as Halloween hauntings are very common. It is after all when the veil between the living and the dead is at its weakest.” “I think I’ve heard that before never thought much of it till now. Is this spirit…. evil?” Buffy wondered, unable to ask if it were her son, fearing Madame Majestic would say no. “The lines between evil and good are blurred with many especially with your son but no he is not trying to harm you in fact he needs your help.” Madame Majestic revealed to the slayer who was shocked to learn she really was being haunted by Tristan. “Of course, I’ll help him!” Buffy declared to her. “I will do anything to help him…how can I help him?” Buffy was unsure whether or not she believed this psychic’s words not because she did not trust Willow’s recommendation but because she did not want to get her hopes up like she had so many times before when it came to Tristan but she knew she had to do whatever the psychic told her to do in order to potentially speak with her son once more and help him in any way she could.

After a short but seemingly long to her kind of day, Buffy Summers was now laid on her fully made bed within her bedroom in her San Francisco apartment, her eyes closed while she was deep in thought. She had been giving some herbs that was put in a tea that she had drank before going to her room after Willow ensured her what she was taking was not some hippie thing that’d make her go on some bad drug fueled trip. She just lay there with her eyes tightly shut, thinking of the son she lost, not daring to open her eyes or move in anyway, knowing that if she did before it was time then the psychic’s potion would not work. She laid there for what felt like forever until she almost found herself falling asleep when suddenly she was now stood next to the bed looking dazed and confused as she looked down at her own body, stunned that there was now two of her as she realized she was having some kind of magical out of body existence. “You know it is a whole lot spookier on this plane when you have a body to look at in the living realm.” Tristan declared, as Buffy turned around to see her son stood in front of her with a smile on his face. “Tristan…” Buffy replied softly, as she began to smile at the sight of her son, a sight she believed she may never have seen again. “It is nice to see you to mum!” Tristan said to her, shocking Buffy by calling her mum for the first genuine time. “But I am afraid to say this is not going to be a happy family reunion!”

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mittensmorgul · 4 years

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Your theory is great! Do you think this pattern of Cas getting shot through the heart will play a part in the midseason finale? Btw, this whole Cas get "shot through the heart" is making me think of Bon Jovi's You Give You a Bad Name...

oh gosh, thanks! It’s still just a wild theory, but the further we get into the season, the more likely it’s looking. The one thing that threw me was Eileen being back in a real sense, and not as a ghost... I mean, I am stupidly happy they undid that particular death, but in some ways I think it’s made Sam feel worse (I don’t think he sees this as a win, more of a reminder of how many other people he’s failed-- Namely Rowena who wrote that spell and he killed with his own hand, Mary who the spell was supposedly written FOR that he couldn’t save, and Kevin, who again Sam felt like he killed with his own hands (hello Gadreel) and has now failed AGAIN for like the ninth time or something...). And that was supposedly a one-time-use spell. Every time I see Sam’s face in 15.06, he looks like he’s about to cry. When Eileen hugs him at the end, he looks like he wants to be happy so badly, but can’t be with all that other death on his hands that he can’t fix, you know?

(yes, I acknowledge some people see this as a pure win and think he looks completely happy, but I truly do not see it... just as most of those folks insist they do not see what I believe is blatantly obvious romance between Sam and Rowena, so I guess we all have our blind spots... to me, the repeated insistence that Sam and Rowena had a platonic or “mentor” relationship is as frustrating as people insisting that Dean and Cas are platonic bros. Like... sorry to make the comparison, but I I am honestly baffled that anyone can see it that way. and I’ve TRIED to see it that way, and the only way I CAN see it that way is to leap to the conclusion that Sam has spent the last two and a half years pining away for Eileen, and I just... don’t see that... at all...)

So I think the narrative has made more parallels between Eileen and Mary now than anything else (literally dressing her almost the same, even), and I’m having a really REALLY hard time seeing those as romantic... But maybe that’s just me.

I just keep thinking of all the original Darkness meta we started writing after 10.23 aired. And the one thing we kept coming back to was this:

1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

Genesis 1:1,2

Chuck went back to the beginning again, right? I think the water imagery is less about Sam and Dean defying the story yet, and more about Chuck flipping his own script... I really need to sit down and write the thing about how 15.06 felt so much like fanfic, and why I think that is. Because this wasn’t an episode where Chuck wasn’t writing... he just wrote what a lot of people wanted to see for once. Or LET it happen, knowing how suspicious Sam and Dean were after 15.05... heck this is for another post :’D

But yeah, Cas getting shot again in 15.06, in an escalating way (vs Sam accidentally shooting him once with salt which wouldn’t have even really harmed a human-- owie but not long-term harmful). Now he’s been intentionally shot TWICE in the chest with an actual gun that caused him enough damage that he hesitated before realizing he could heal himself from it and took the second shot without flinching. I think this bodes REALLY poorly for something that will happen in the midseason finale.

I think this is why Dean will need to PRAY to Cas rather than like... call him on the phone. The other possibility there is that he won’t die (I think I’m leaning about 80/20 toward him actually dying though), and Dean will realize Cas won’t return his phone messages, and resorts to praying hoping that’s a message Cas’s can’t ignore... we’ll see, though! But I am fully prepared for Cas to die in the midseason finale, regardless. Rule of Three and all that. Plus, if that happens, we know they can’t kill him/separate him out from the story at the end... the midseason finale is always a minor triumph for the Bad Guy, subverted by the end of the season.

(when we all believed Eileen was returning in 15.08, I assumed it would be her dying, and us learning she’d been alive all this time, but I don’t think they will kill her again... but they might... but now we have all this stuff with Cas, and I’m pretty sure it will be him. And I would LOVE it if he got to the Empty only to find Rowena there all exasperated with Jack and the two of them have to parent him into understanding he’s loved and forgiven, and not responsible for any of this terrible stuff that’s happened to him. :’D Literally that would serve both Cas and Rowena’s current Major Problems-- Rowena’s ongoing belief that Love Is Weakness, and Cas and his Lovers Quarrel and feeling like his only true connection to the Winchesters was watching over Jack until he could fulfill his purpose to bring about that vision of “paradise” Cas had seen way back in 12.19, and not because Cas is loved for himself... and Zerbe’s written a lot about that already that I completely agree with, so if you wanna read it, it’s near the top of my 12.19 tag...)

As for the song tie-in, omg that’s just awful, right? LOVERS QUARREL. You give love a bad name. yep yep this is all terrible right? And Bon Jovi rocks on occasion. :’D

#spn 15.06 #spn s15 speculation #spn 12.19 #i just really REALLY need to know what's happening in the empty already #madamoftime

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